#even when crafting her own attacks and stuff she tends to make them a bit more intricate than she rly needs to

[arolesbianism]

Comicfrin au update! The tracker now uses playing cards as her weapon. Because I want her to. <3.

[mrslittletall]

saw your whump post, honestly the "I'm fine" screams Hornet to me, so it'd be cool to see that! - dooblebugs

Title: The Idol Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: Hornet & Little Ghost Word Count: 2.825 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30941981

Summary: After the Hollow Knight is freed from the temple, Hornet does her best to take care of the ones that are still left in Hallownest. Everything should be fine... until it isn't.

(Author's note:  @dooblebugs

I thought about using canon verse with “Almost everyone lives AU” or your Mer AU. But ultimately, canon verse won, because I still miss some context for the Mer AU. I hope you enjoy.)

Hornet opened her eyes and jumped on her feet right away. Her day would always start with hunting and gathering food, preferably before Hollow woke up and tried to move, and it was a whole other problem trying to haul a bug their size back into bed, especially when they rigorously ignored their wounds.

While Hornet trusted Quirrel and Cloth enough to leave Hollow in their care for a while, she always felt better if she could look over them personally. However, the longer she hesitated with leaving, the longer she would need to come back, so Hornet left the house in Dirtmouth they had inhabited for Hollow's recovery and went towards the crossroads.

The little pitter-patter of tiny feet next to her prompted Hornet to look down. Ghost had decided to accompany her again. They always would. She could tell them a hundred times to stay behind, they would never listen. For a vessel meant to be void of mind, Ghost was one of the bugs with the strongest will that Hornet ever had seen.

“You will still come with me, even if I say no, right, little Ghost?”, Hornet said, shouldering her needle. Ghost didn't nod or sign at her, they simply stared, with their unblinking, never changing expression. It was enough for Hornet to know that they wouldn't leave.

“Alright, but don't get into my way.”, Hornet said. At this, Ghost swung their nail and jumped in front of Hornet in a pose that depicted a challenge, then their nail went down on the ground in a strike, the swing of it breaking through the calmness of the morning.

“I know! I know! You've beaten me twice, but... I have gone easy on you.”, Hornet half hissed. It was a blatant lie and she knew it. The first time she had simply underestimated them (or she simply had become tired of fighting) and the second time... she had given it her all and they still had remained victorious. In a sense, Ghost was the new king of Hallownest, but they didn't seem to put any mind on the title. They didn't even seem to be wanting to be celebrated for being the saviour of Hallownest. They simply joined Hornet every morning for hunting and went off on their own afterwards, always coming back to play with their friends in Dirtmouth.

As the both of them jumped down the well, Hornet couldn't help but think about that there wasn't much to rule anymore. This kingdom was in shambles. It had been two weeks and the dried off infection still crusted the crossroads, too little bugs alive to care much about cleaning the place up. It was becoming more and more difficult to get food, because so many of the infected had simply been reanimated husks, without any meat left in them.

They surely would have to wander to Greenpath again, hopefully finding a few vengeflies and mosscreeps to bring home.

Hornet was used being alone. She had been alone for a very long time. She had managed. She never was lonely... well, maybe a little lonely and now there was a bunch of strangers up in Dirtmouth who relied on her. Hornet never wanted for anyone to rely on her. She had seen what happened when bugs relied on someone and... there wasn't a solution.

She looked down on Ghost again, they had their nail on the ready and stared vigilantly in front of them. They must have crossed this crossroads a dozen times on their journey, still expecting to be attacked by the infected every given minute. Hornet could understand that it was hard for them to let go of old habits.

She was the same. She never let go of her needle as well. Even with the infection never being able to come back, she had to remain vigilant. She would protect her siblings, no matter what. She wouldn't, no she couldn't, let anyone down.

“We are nearing Greenpath.”, she said, only to cut through the silence between them. She knew it wasn't Ghost's fault that they didn't have a voice, but after years of not being able to talk to anyone, Hornet barely could stand the silence, when there was someone she could talk to. “Remember, when we hunt the mosscreeps, take their leaves as well, for the herbivores.”

While Hornet was able to eat plant matter as well, it never had been satisfying to her. She was the daughter of a spider and a wyrm, both predators, and therefore she usually would hunt for food. She was unsure about what kind of diet Ghost and Hollow needed, but they seemed to be content with the prey she brought back, so she wouldn't change anything about it.

“And remember, we can't hunt too much. The population needs a chance to recover.”, she said as well. The infection had done a number on the whole of Hallownest... it wasn't a surprise that there was such a food shortage. In fact, Hornet had cut her own food intake in favour of her siblings and anyone who couldn't hunt or still needed to recover. That bug, Tiso, came to mind. Had a far too big stomach for having been utterly destroyed by the colloseum of fools. Why Ghost had dragged him back to Dirthmouth, she would never understand.

Ghost showed that they understood with a little nod of their head and the both of them entered Greenpath. It was a MUCH nicer place without the infection, but they still had to pay attention, the fool eater plants were easy to overlook (not that Hornet had ever overlooked them, but Ghost tended to forget...) and there were some predators still around, though they were no match for her needle. The problem was to avoid them to not hunt too much. Like she had said to Ghost, they needed to give the population time to recover, if they wouldn't want all to starve beforehand.

“We get only enough for everyone back in Dirtmouth.”, Hornet said again. “Then we leave again. Let's search for some mosscreeps first.”

The both of them jumped and slashed their way through the vegetation of Greenpath. While Hornet preferred to use her needle, Ghost had found a lot of new ways to move around since the first time they fought and they dashed (literally leaving their shell behind and somehow phasing through time and space) and jumped with wings that reminded Hornet of her father... and she got a bad feeling in her guts every time she saw them.

After a bit of time, they had managed to hunt two vengeflies to bring back, Hornet keeping them cocooned up for transportation and were now searching through the vegetation for some mosscreeps. Finally, Hornet found one and struck it down with her needle, preparing a cocoon for it again, when Ghost picked something up from the grass.

“Ghost, what do you have there?”, Hornet asked. The item was too small to be prey and they tended to hoard stuff they found. It probably was just something that was completely worthless nowadays, only generating Geo when given to this historian in the City of Tears. She still wanted to know.

Ghost came over and laid the thing they had picked up in her outstretched hand. When she looked down on it, she froze.

It was a King's Idol, the item that the citizens of Hallownest had crafted to worship her reclusive father. Each of them looked different, but they all shared the general shape and depicted his most salient feature: The horns that resembled a crown.

Staring down at it, something in Hornet broke. It might have been the stress she felt since Ghost had arrived. Or the fact that Hollow recovered from years of abuse from both the gods of Hallownest. Or that she was running on an empty stomach most of the time. But once she saw that thing, all her frustration crashed down on her at once.

You!”, she hissed. “It was all your fault! You knew that the plan wouldn't work! You knew that they would suffer and you still have let it happen! The teacher, the watcher, my mother, all sacrificed for nothing! And then, in the moment you were needed the most, you vanished, you damn coward! We needed you! I needed you! I hate you. I hate you and I can't even say it to your face anymore!”

Hornet threw the king's idol on the ground with so much force that it skipped on the ground and then fell on her knees, slowly getting aware of the tears on her face and the presence of little ice cold hands patting her arm.

“I am fine.”, she said, wiping the tears away. Just a moment of weakness, nothing else. Even though she could feel the judgemental stare of Ghost, she was fine. She had to be. “Seriously, I am fine.”, she continued once more. “Let's continue hunting.”

As Hornet was putting her composure back together, she didn't notice how Ghost continued to stare at her, picking up the idol from the ground, and only starting to move again once she called out for them.

The hunt had been more or less successful. At least they had found enough prey that nobody should go terribly hungry (at least when Hornet halved her own portion again). As usual, hunting had taken the better part of the day. Hornet would have liked to go hunt at some different locations, but the Old Stag from the stag ways wasn't around lately, apparently he was taking care of some personal business. With him not being around, it was just too far to walk to the Fungal Wastes or Deepnest, at least not when she wanted to come back the same day.

Currently Hornet took in her meal in Hollow's room with Ghost present as well. She was busy thinking about if there was another route that would make sure she could hunt elsewhere but Greenpath for once, when she felt a nudge. When she looked down, she saw how Ghost offered them a half of their mosscreep, holding the prey up in their little hands, seemingly eagerly awaiting for her to take it.

“I can't take this, Ghost.”, Hornet said. “You need all the food you can get, you are still growing.”

Ghost cocked their head and for once their eternal deadpan expression was on point. Hornet knew how ridiculous her argument was. Ghost had been born before her. They hadn't grown in years. Their body had been unable to grow because they didn't had access to void. “You know what I mean.”, she defended herself. There was the possibility that Ghost would start to grow as long as they stayed in Hallownest.

Ghost offered their meal a little while longer and then gave up with a little frustrated stomp of their foot. It was then when Hornet felt another nudge... this time it was Hollow, who had simply watched the scene unfold in front of them, offering their part of their meal.

“Oh no, not you too, Hollow.”, Hornet sighed. “You need the food much more than me, you are still recovering. I won't accept anything from you.”

The both vessels shared a look and once again Hornet asked herself if they could talk to each with some kind of void telepathy, before both of them looked at the ground in defeat.

“I am fine.”, Hornet repeated herself, she knew that. “Really, I am fine...”

Hornet awoke the next morning... not because her stomach cramped and she had trouble sleeping because of it, but because someone nudged her. She cracked one eye open and murmured: “It's barely morning...” She just craved to go back to sleep, to forget about the day in front of her for a few minutes longer, but the nudging got more and more intense, until she shouted: “Fine! I am getting up! Stop bothering me!”

It was Ghost in front of her and immediately Hornet stopped being annoyed. What if something had happened? “Is something the matter with Hollow? Or is a threat approaching the village?”, she asked, already fumbling for her needle, once again forgetting that Ghost was more than capable of defending the village themselves. They just looked too much like a little, defenseless child, even though Hornet had experienced otherwise.

Gladly, Ghost shook their head, though this put Hornet right back into annoyance. “Then why have you woken me up?”, she said, falling back down in her pillows, ignoring the urge to close her eyes and looking at Ghost again, making sure to give them a judgemental stare.

Ghost did grip something under their cloak (wings? Hornet never knew what this thing around the vessels was) and after a bit of struggling, they produced a jar... a jar filled with honey. The smell actually made Hornet's mouth water. Honey was one of the few things she liked to eat that wasn't meat, mostly because she had trained in the Hive in her youth.

Though, as lucky as she felt about having more food, she couldn't help but scold Ghost. “Ghost, did you get this on your own? The Hive is dangerous, even without the infection! What if the Hive Knight would have found you?”

Ghost shook their head and then outstretched their hand, showing Hornet a shiny little charm. A charm she remembered. The charm of the Hive. “Wait, you have been there and challenged him already?” Hornet wanted to be surprised, but Ghost couldn't really surprise her anymore. When they could surprise her somehow, then it was that they were full of surprises.

“Anyway... I guess I have to thank you, though I don't approve that you sneak out at night into the Hive.”, Hornet murmured. “At least we have more food for the group now..”

Ghost rigorously shook their head and pressed the jar in her hands. “For me?”, Hornet asked and Ghost nodded.

“But... Ghost, I appreciate it, but I don't need.. the others need the food much more than...”

Another shook of their head and a stomp of their foot along with crossed arms and a slight turn around. Hornet suddenly felt very small, she had never seen them that upset.

“Alright, alright...”, she said. “Maybe I have eaten insufficient lately...”

Ghost nodded again and gave the jar of honey another press, so that she had to hold it firmly in her hands.

“Alright alright...”, Hornet finally gave in. “I will take your offer, Ghost.”

As she opened the jar, her hunger became more and more apparent and soon she dug in and had finished the whole jar in what felt like no time and finally, for once, she didn't feel overly hungry. Satisfied even.

She then saw Ghost holding up something. A little rock with a few letters written on it. Lately Cornifer had given them writing lessons, though it still was a work in progress.

“Fine?”

That was the word they had painted on the rock (where did they even have the colours from?).

“I am fine.”, Hornet said. “This time for real. I am sorry, Ghost, I shouldn't have lied to you. I just feel so... responsible for everyone. I can't show weakness in front of anyone.”

Ghost shook their head again and then got something out. Hornet recognized it as the King's Idol they had found in Greenpath. They tossed it at the ground, just as she had done and then hit it with their nail, leaving a notable crack in it.

“You as well don't have the best memories of him, right?”, Hornet said. Both of them had been left behind, though in a different kind of way. Ghost had been discarded and Hornet had been left with responsibility far too huge for her age.

Ghost nodded again and gave the King's Idol another smack, so that it landed in front of her. Hornet took it into her hands and stared at it. She did miss him, that she had to admit to herself, but she also knew that her anger and her disappointment were real and there was no reason to hide it in front of Ghost.

She squeezed the Idol until it cracked into two pieces and just watched as they fell down. “Thank you, Ghost.”, she said. “But make sure to not tell Hollow about this.”

The way Hollow idealized their father... it would break their heart seeing his image being defiled like that.

Another quick nod and then Ghost actually got another one out, their face clearly saying: “Wanna break another?”

A grin crept over Hornet's face. She would never get her mother back or escape her responsibilities, but at least she could vent out her frustrations, even though it took her sibling for her to realize.

“Oh you bet I want.” (Author's note: Little Ghost is kinda fun to write. I think they are a character mostly showing what they feel through body language and it was fun to come up with how they would act. I also like to think that they can stare very judgemental, even though their expression never changes, a stare of them can make anyone falter. Hornet's relationship to PK is... complicated. He hasn't actually been a bad father to her, but as the infection came back and depression took over, he left her alone more and more and she got angry about it... especially when he decided to just vanish. She felt utterly betrayed by it and it is a huge source of her frustration and anger. I put in some little references to the game in there, try to find them if you please.)

[an-apocalypse-of-magpies]

Asterix and the Legacy of the Original Authors

So I finally saw Asterix and the Secret of the Magic Potion (2018). Significantly, this is the first Asterix story I’ve experienced since the retirement of Albert Uderzo, the original co-creator of the characters and creative lead follower the death of Rene Goscinny.

And it was brilliant.

The plot, simply summarised, is that Getafix (Panoramix in the original French), venerable and wise village druid, slips and falls out of a tree for the first time in his long career. He begins to worry that he’s getting too old for this (indeed, Getafix’s age has always been ambiguous, but he’s easily the oldest recurring character after the appropiately named Geriatrix/Agecanonix, who’s certainly over 80), and that he needs to find a successor, not least of which because only he knows the formula for his legendary magic potion that gives the Gauls the super strength needed to hold off the Roman invasion (the film makes a running joke that druids never write things down). While on the search, an old rival of Getafix’s, Sulfurix (dubbed Demonix in the Canadian English dub, in case it wasn’t clear that he’s evil) is desperately trying to steal the formula, seeking to liberate the Gaulish lands from the Romans and not merely one village. Along with Asterix, Obelix and tagalong kid Pectin(/e), the heroes must find a successor, but is there a Gaulish druid worthy of this most sacred knowledge?

The animation is excellent, as it was in the previous animated outing Asterix and the Mansions of the Gods (2014), really capturing the look and feel of the comic albums. I feel like too much cartoon media these days is afraid to really exploit squash-and-stretch for expressive and dynamic purposes, and with Asterix’s trademark slapstick being Roman soldiers clobbered so hard their torsos sail off into the air before their feet have entirely realised what happened, it was necessary for this. The film is bright and crisp, and the light effects suitably dramatic (and with many a magical zip and zap, it’s crucial to have good lighting).

The story has many of the familiar beats. Alexandre Astier is clearly playing it a little bit safe, but considering he’s writing his own Asterix story, it’s safer to stick with that than to try and push it too far and risk alienating the audience. A crisis emerges, Asterix and Obelix and miscellaneous tagalongs leave the village, shenanigans happen, Asterix and Obelix have a falling out and become separated temporarily, there’s an ominous moment when the magic potion runs out, Romans attack the village, everyone gets back in time to save the day, Romans get punched a bit, big feast under the stars. What I liked, though, is how this story tried to do something interesting with the side characters. While Getafix is a very important character for the story, he rarely gets involved in the actual plot, so it’s nice to see more of him and in particular his character flaws - namely his stubbornness and attempts to do everything himself, even to the detriment of those around him. Even being confined to a primitive wheelchair for a lot of the film due to an injured ankle doesn’t stop him from taking a part, and it’s nice to see more of him than merely ‘wise wizardly old man, keeps calm and lectures people’. Unhygenix the fishmonger (Ordralfabetix) gets an amusing background arc where he believes that he could be Getafix’s successor and tries dabbling with druidcraft in the background, with amusing results. For once, his role isn’t just ‘gets in a fight with Fulliautomatix the blacksmith (Cetautomatix)’, and we get to see that he’s an interesting combination of surprisingly intelligent and thick as two short rocks. Fulliautomatix himself gets to have some humorous musing at his alchemical antics, and at one point the requisite Unhygenix/Fulliautomatix fight is successfully quelled, with Fulliautomatix admitting that he has a short temper and that this was unnecessary aggression on his part. Vitalstatistix (Abraracourcix) leads the village men (apart from the perennially unpopular bard Cacofonix (Assurancetourix)) to accompany Getafix halfway through, leaving the womenfolk to defend the village with a backup supply of potion. Happily, this means we also get to see more of the village women - headed up by Impedimenta (Bonnemine), Mrs Geriatrix (Geriatrix’s unnamed but incredibly young wife) and Bacteria (Ielosubmarine) - than just ‘being someone’s wife’ - Impedimenta plays a vital role in corralling the women for war and appears to be keeper of the potion reserves, while the others get more speaking roles and are able to participate in fights. It’s not much, but in a world of Gaulish men, the women tend to fall by the wayside unless they get to be a sex symbol or someone’s harridan wife. Cacofonix himself gets to play at being a chief, where his cowardly nature makes for an amusing contrast Impedimenta’s more no-nonsense practicality. We also get to see some of the Gaulish children for once! They make fun of their elders and play around with stolen Roman warrior stuff. When the going gets tough, though, the first thing the village defence team do is make sure the kids get somewhere safe, and Cacofonix gets a slightly tender moment where he tries to assure them that he’s going to be okay ... with a long winded speech rather than just getting on with it.

The real star of the film (well, alongside Asterix, Obelix and Getafix) is Pectin. Pectin is a scrappy little girl from the village who’s into inventing and engineering, and her establishing scene is ignoring the other kids playfighting so that she can finishing what seems to bee some kind of automatic watering machine. She’s smart, creative, appropriately afraid of the dangers that crop up but wants to do right by Getafix, whose wisdom she deeply admires. It’s fairly clear even from the outset what her role will be. Eventually, in the darkest moments, Getafix teaches Pectin the secret recipe - including Getafix’s secret ingredient - in order to save the village. She assures Getafix later that she will try to forget the recipe, so that she won’t accidentally reveal it to the wrong sort, but just as the credits roll, Getafix muses what we’re all thinking - that this girl might be worthy to be his successor. Pectin’s important because of the series’ ... shaky history with feminism. The film sets out that only men can become druids, and women are even forbidden from the woods where they meet. When taking Getafix to the meet, Pectin has to wear a hood and hike her dress up to look more like a boy appropriately. To allow Pectin to become a druid would defy ... well, some lofty ideal that only men can become druids. Like so many old sexist tropes, the reason has become ‘... well, they just don’t’. So it’s good that this is addressing that, as well as forcing more female characters into the limelight. The most prominent female character in all of Asterix is Impedimenta, followed maybe by the heartthrob and Obelix’s crush Panacea. I’ve elaborated above the problems there. In Asterix classic, women are to be desired or to be overbearing wives to henpecked husbands. It’s likely that Goscinny and Uderzo meant no malice by this writing; they were two French men writing a humour comic, and played on the popular tropes accordingly. But they (or rather, Uderzo) did attempt to tackle feminism in this comic before. It was ... well, it was a bit clunky.

Asterix and the Secret Weapon (1991) was a rather dated and fearmonger-y take on feminism, having a feminist activist outsider called Bravura comes to the village, encourages the women to rise up against their husbands (the men, out of chivalry and hen-peckedness, do not resist), seizing control of the village. Asterix, being both a bachelor and bit of a firebrand at perceived injustice, confronts Bravura, whereupon she flirts with him to try and seduce him into marrying her, whereupon he (shock horror) strikes her out of reflex. But Gaulish men do not hit women! Asterix is banished to the nearby forest for his insolence, eventually joined by the other men, fed up with the overbearing women. When the Romans (knowing that Gaulish men will not attack a women) send a detachment of female soldiers to the village, the women have turned it into a primitive shopping centre, where the female soldiers can shop and get their hair and make up done and forget all about attacking the village. Yeah. Feminists are salacious witches who would enthrall men and subjugate them, women love nothing more than shopping and beauty, it’s ... it’s bad. Secrot of the Magic Potion at least attempts to fix this by questioning male dominance in a role without being so weird about it, and having the women be just as much proud, organised village defenders as the men, arguably more so, given they lacked the weapons or numbers they normally had with the men around. (I know that the most recent album, Asterix and the Chieftain’s Daughter (2019), kinda deals with this too, but I haven’t yet read that one)

Putting aside the feminist rant, the key theme of this film seems to be the passing of the torch, clinging to past glory, and stepping up to take responsibility. Getafix isn’t getting any younger, and as much as might hurt his pride, he needs to train someone to take his place. The other elder druids, it transpires, are foolish, complacent and irresponsible, getting too used to just messing around and partying. They’re getting senile too, shamefully admitting to keeping crib sheets to remember which apprentice druids are any good. Druids not writing things down seems to be a metaphor for old masters, well versed in their craft, who know it all so well that they don’t need notes ... and then struggle to teach others, so they keep doing it all themselves. Sulfurix is bitter that, despite his magic fire being useful, Getafix is held up as the better druid. Way back when, they were finallists in a druidcraft competition, and being able to conjure flame from nothing is certainly a useful talent that won out over Getafix’s useless but dramatic and very complex magic. Getafix is implied never to have held a grudge over this, especially given that he would eventually develop the magic potion that makes his people so formidable. Sulfurix, meanwhile, found his ‘useful’ parlour trick get weaker and less reliable over time, and he seems to have very few tricks under his belt by the present, so fixated was he on this one thing. His Villain Rant at Getafix at the end is pure projection - he’s become irrelevant, because his one thing became all he was known for. Finally, with Cacofonix being acting Chief, the women defending the village, and Cholerix (Teleferix) the apprentice druid and later Pectin striving to create the magic potion and fill Getafix’s footsteps, there is a theme of people, even wildly unprepared people, stepping up to take responsibility because it’s what needs to be done, be it for the sake of a legacy or simply because this operation won’t run itself. Such a theme rings loud in, I remind you, the first original Asterix story on film since the death or retirement of both of the original creators. They’re on their own now, with a great and beloved legacy to continue, and I think they’ve done a wonderful job. The film was not perfect by any means - the English dub lip-flaps weren’t that well aligned (my DVD didn’t have French language options), the story’s quite formulaic if you’re a fan of the series, and Sulfurix is ... not subtle as the villain - but if you like Asterix, you’ll like this. And if you don’t care for Asterix, it’s still enjoyable.

[cyndalyssa]

Name: Rosella Macawber

Age: She’s about five years younger than Morgana; heavily depends on how you think supernatural beings age

Gender: Female

Species: Monster/Fae Duck

Occupation: Waitress (and occasional gardener/landscaper) at Shadow Chateau, Superheroine in Training

Super powers: Earth Magic (Geokinesis, Animation of Stone, Petrification, basically any spell that involves dirt, stone, minerals, etc.)

Weaknesses:

Silver 

Cast/Wrought Iron (typically manifesting as allergies, though they also weaken her magic), 

Water (erodes at her strength until she can barely move, she also can’t swim and sinks like a rock; however, she can drink it just fine, she’d just rather not take a dip in it)

Appearance: 

Tiny twig of a woman with a terrible case of baby face. 

Brown feathers, prehensile green hair done in a single braid (typically behaves like tentacles when unbraided) with a hot pink daisy at the base, rose pink eyes (which can turn red when she’s in attack mode). 

Teeth are selectively sharp and claws are retractable (usually borne when she’s angry).  

Typically wears a green sleeveless tunic, brown capelet with a hot pink rose pin, string belt holding a tan magic pouch to her left hip, brown leggings and darker brown flat shoes.

Personality: Optimistic, excitable, curious, and friendly; quite independent, but also lonely to the point of stir craziness; tends to be stubborn, prideful, and a little fiery, especially when she feels her identity as a person is threatened.

Relationships:

Morgana Macawber (cousin, big sister figure)

Tuffy (her cat made out of rocks; BFF)

Mattias Macawber (father, lukewarm relationship)

Undine Macawber (eldest quadruplet sister, hostile relationship)

Ashmay and Zephra Macawber (other two older quadruplet sisters, lukewarm relationship)

Darkwing Duck (ally, mutual annoyance but begrudging respect)

Launchpad McQuack (friend, usually the one to educate her on Normal stuff)

Gosalyn Mallard (odd friendship where they’re kinda kindred spirits but with opposite tastes; occasionally Rosie babysits her and it’s wild)

Liquidator (enemy, will absolutely NOPE out of Dodge upon seeing him)

Quackerjack (enemy, there’s a stupid mutual grudge between them)

Bushroot (some kind of weird complicated friendship despite being on different sides)

Biography:

Once upon a time, Mattias Macawber went traveling for a few years, only to return to Transylvania with four eggs that he quietly admitted were his, and that the woman he produced them with was dead. He spoke little more of the matter, despite everyone’s curiosity, and just sought to raise the children like any other monster.

Rosella was the last of the girls to hatch, and at first, she seemed like a regular monster, looking like she’d be a witch with animated hair. However, as she grew older, it became clear that she just couldn’t fit in. No interest in their macabre society, no desire to be scary or gross, and no magic ability save for manipulating dirt and pebbles. It grew worse when upon stumbling into Normal territory, she discovered their colorful flora (a far cry from the deadly and scary plants monsters grow), among other things, and immediately took a liking to it. She was already bullied by the other monsters for being weak; having adopted a cute and colorful persona, she was now tormented for being the odd duck of not just the esteemed Macawber Family, but all of monster society.

By the time she was an adult, she was shoved to the outskirts of monster society, and often even excluded from her own family—her only friend was a cat (named Tuffy) she made out of rocks and endowed some of her life force into. Not many visitors came her way, and when they did, it’s usually just to grab something from her magic stone/crystal/sand collection and run before she can offer them tea. So, her life was full of loneliness, filling time with gardening, making artisan crafts, and practicing her earth magic—it was enough to make her a bit stir crazy. Still, as much as she yearned for acceptance, she held a stubborn pride in who she is.

Things started to change when her cousin Morgana sought her help in landscaping around her restaurant, the Shadow Chateau. It was initially meant to be a temporary affair, and they’d part ways after the work was done.  But, things took a turn when the fairy bounty hunter/hitwoman Goldenrod captured the Macawbers at the restaurant--save Rosie, who was ditched by the other members of the family and left to figure out which magic door at the castle led to the manor in St. Canard. She helped Darkwing Duck and co. rescue them, and then angrily chewed out her kin for leaving her behind and overall treating her like dirt. 

Realizing that Rosella was unhappy with her life, Morgana felt pity for her, and offered her a job and a change of scenery. Despite said job being a waitress for the restaurant—involving being dressed to match an aesthetic she cares little for—Rosie ecstatically accepted (albeit with the condition that they transport her garden to a new plot of land, so that no vandals destroy her hard work when she’s gone), seeing it as an opportunity for a fresh start in this strange land of St. Canard.

This fresh start would involve the insanity of superheroes and supervillains, supernatural forces following her and Morg to the city, aliens, spies, mutants, and more… but hey, her life’s more interesting, and she’s starting to make friends.

Open to RP: If anyone cares.

Random facts:

Her mother is a faerie, and only two know (her father and a local doctor (who was confirming the girls’ relation to him, given that he just randomly showed up with eggs; Mattias paid him to keep quiet about their other half)). 

However, everyone else does sense something off about Rosie (and her sisters, but she sticks out), enough to theorize that she’s actually a faerie changeling (well, they’re kinda close?). Some of Rosie’s peers had even taken to calling her “fairy princess”, which infuriates her.

She has a scarily extensive knowledge of geology—after all, if you had the power to command the earth, wouldn’t you want to better understand your element? She has a rock collection to boot. 

She’s an avid homesteader, given that she’s been taking care of herself for years with various home skills like gardening, cooking, textile work, etc. As interesting as St. Canard is, living in the city gets her a little on edge, and she hopes to someday live independently in the country like she did before (that said, she doesn’t want to go back to a friendless life and would love visits). 

Whatever you do, do not threaten her garden. She will throw boulders at or sic golems on you at best. At worst... let’s not think about it. 

Though she has a distaste for the spooky, gross, and freaky things that are mainstream in monster culture, she ain’t gonna complain about the food--she actually enjoys it, her faves being the bug dishes. Otherwise, with Normal food, she has a ravenous sweet tooth, dislikes salty foods, and everything else ranges from okay to pretty good. 

Character created by and belongs to @cyndalyssa​

Bio Template nicked from @duckverseoc​

[themoomoorn]

Random Thot #46,853

I had a health exam for my upcoming new job and put my two weeks in for my current one, so I’m rewarding my neurodivergent ass-brain with this.  Sit tight and enjoy.

46,853: I’m half-convinced that Edelgard is like the Soul Series’ Alexandra sisters and daughter when it comes to her combat ability - or rather, lack thereof.  Unlike Claude, Dimitri, and Byleth, who all explicitly received combat training as children, Edelgard likely did not.  The tools given to her are what likely allow for her to fight at all - heck, they may even do a bit of the fighting for her.  How else can a noodle-armed womanlet like her wear all that armor and heft that axe?  

(Also, how the eff does this dress make clanking armor sounds when she walks in the game despite this dress having like no armor whatsoever)

To begin with, we have in-game factoids of her stat caps being the second highest in the game (390 when combined, with Cyril only beating her by 5 points due to his Aptitude skill), and she even has a magic cap that’s not only on-par with other magically-inclined units (72), but it’s actually better than some of them (Dorothea and Linhardt, who are both dedicated mage types, have caps of 61 and 66, respectively, while Manuela, who tends to get placed in Faith Magic-aligned classes despite being a hybrid unit, has a piddling cap 48).  She even has a quirky but feasible spell list for both magic types (Fire/Bolganone/Luna Lambda/Hades Omega for Reason, and Heal/Nosferatu/Recover/Seraphim for Faith, which is one of her banes, mind you).  I imagine this is the work of the experiments that gave her her version of the Crest of Flames - after all, the 2020 DREAM interview noted that the Hresvelg children were given a more “refined” version of the experiments the Ordelias had.  The refinement isn’t just reflected in-game with caps and magic too; Edelgard is also more robust in terms of health, whereas Lysithea is prone to bouts of weakness and illness.  In-game, she has poor Luck and Strength, and the single lowest HP cap of all the playable units at 48.  And while this one is admittedly conjecture, Edelgard doesn’t hint that her lifespan was drastically cut, as she gets to live a long life in all of her endings.  Even in her Crest-heavy ending with Hanneman or her healthcare-related ending with Manuela don’t mention that she had one or both of her Crests taken out.  Lysithea, on the other hand, is extensively motivated by the fact that she doesn’t have many years left, and it’s only in two endings (Lorenz, Balthus) where she’s able to live fairly long without removing her Crests; The rest either have her dying young or being able to live long only after her Crests are taken out.

Now what of her combat abilities?  Let’s turn to the source of where this silly thot came from.

For the uninitiated, Sophitia Alexandra, a fighter who’s been in the Soul Franchise since its very first game, did not grow up as a dedicated combatant like the other fighters - she was an ordinary baker living in Athens during the late 16th Century when Greece was part of the Ottoman Empire.  When she was bathing in a lake one day, she received a message from Hephaestus himself in that she has a divine destiny to destroy the cursed blade Soul Edge, and he gifts her with a divinely crafted short sword and shield in order to fulfill her mission.  While she does gain training in Athenian combat styles, a lot of her power and capabilities are tied to her weapon set, which are named the Omega Sword and Elk Shield.  Her younger sister Cassandra would follow suit in SoulCalibur II, actually going out of her way to steal the same holy armaments Sophitia used in Soul Edge and SoulCalibur I before getting her own specially empowered set.

(Sophitia Alexandra)

And Pyrrha, Sophitia’s daughter in SoulCalibur V, takes it to new heights.  Per a data book, the timid, mistreated Pyrrha has absolutely no combat experience, not even in self-defense.  While Sophitia and Cassandra were able to train themselves into formidable soldiers outside of their divine weapons’ influences, this is not true for Pyrrha.  If it were not for the sword and shield Pyrrha wielded (which is the same exact set Sophitia wielded before her passing), her clumsy attacks and timid guard stances would amount to ineffectual, useless flailing.  

(Info about Pyrrha’s fighting style from the SCV data book)

Back to the Egg.  Now it’s made abundantly clear that while Dimitri’s Jean Valjean-levels of raw strength heavily stem from his Crest, he’s also from the land where, in lieu of milk and honey, there’s extreme sports jock training in heavy armor in the dead of night with boulders for weights and weapon mastery.  Dimitri loves to train, and it’s a big aspect of his character.  The tritagonist of his route is also one of his combat trainers, and he’s done that job for three generations’ worth of Faerghus royalty, with his ending hinting that he keeps doing it for one more.  I imagine that even without the Crest of Blaiddyd, Dimitri would still be extremely strong and formidable, he’d just have to actually exert himself a little when saving some poor soul from a runaway cart.

(Just in case the savior imagery wasn’t clear enough with Dimitri, he even did lift a cart the way eventual saint Jean Valjean did in the book/musical)

Claude is far more in favor of covert combat, and his own Crest is more defensive than offensive, but he’s no slouch either, having had a renowned war general serve as his combat instructor since childhood.  He’s from a kingdom that, much like Faerghus, values the way of the warrior and prides itself on the strength of its people.  His hidden talent, tying to wyvern mastery, is in friggin axes, and he’s also shown to be adept enough with a sword at various points.  Plus there’s the fact that he was abused and mistreated by his Almyran family, complete with his father plopping him on a horse and making the horse ride off with him backwards with no safety net as a form of punishment - Claude tells Hilda that there was a “trick” in how he survived that.  As any horse jockey can attest to, you need raw muscle in every part of your body in order to really ride one, and I imagine that’s doubly true for your local albino wyvern that’s decked out in Ottoman visual puns.  Plus learning how to be crafty and protecting oneself more covertly undoubtedly contributed to his combat abilities too.

(I mean you’d have to be shredded if you can pull off the Parthian shot on a fucking flying dragon.  61 Strength cap my ass.)

Byleth, as we know, grew up as a mercenary to the point of detriment.  There’s no need to go into extensive detail as to how Jeralt sacrificed almost everything else in exchange for contributing to Byleth’s combat abilities without being abusive and cruel, but even if you took away Byleth’s self-insert aspects, they’d likely bear a passing resemblance to Rei Ayanami in terms of behavior and attitude - An intended vessel/Avatar for a divine being from one end; Conditioned for little more than combat from another end.  Kind of a gloomy picture before she starts to express herself better and actually bond with other people meaningfully.  

(At least she’s cute as a button.  Kinda like Rei.)

But where does that leave Edelgard?  It’s a big question mark.  There’s no mention of her growing up with any kind of combat training, unlike the other three.  Heck, if tea time, Crimson Flower, and Heroes quotes are anything to go by, Edelgard grew up living a carefree lifestyle prior to the Insurrection.  She got to stuff her face with sweets and play with teddy bears and both dote and be doted on by her siblings.  Being child number 9 in her current generation, combat training and political studies likely weren’t major priorities for her, and since it’s speculated that Ionius favored her mother, she was likely lavished and spoiled by him.  After all, he expresses grief for her specifically when she inherits the throne from him, not the rest of her siblings.    

(Even the official merchandise notes how childish Edelgard is)

(This is all after she literally kickstarts her war, by the way).

While there’s varying degrees of elaborate flair that the Lords all wield their weapons with, Edelgard’s regular strikes with an axe feel far less rigid and more informal, and she’ll spin around her axe like it’s some kind of prop.  Her default battle stance isn’t even remotely protective and quite impractical; Dimitri’s stance with a lance is both of these things, while Claude’s arrow-twirling is a real-life exercise that’s done to keep the wrist flexible.  While she does refine her axe skills come Part II, she’ll still do things like throw her massive shield ten feet in the air for a critical hit.

(Seriously what even is this why is your hand out like that)

There’s even some proof of this: In her study request for axes and heavy armor, Edelgard will even acknowledge that the only reason she can likely keep up and wear heavy armor at all is because of her Crests.  And unlike Dimitri and Claude, who can get lesson plans for their respective Hidden Talents once they’re mastered (Horse riding for Dimitri, axes for Claude), Edelgard doesn’t get a lesson plan for Reason Magic, which is her Hidden Talent, so she likely didn’t get any kind of formal education surrounding magic either.  

(She has a similar quote in Heroes that’s even more explicit about this.)

The closest hint we get in Edelgard maybe having a hint of training as a child is in her Supports with Ferdinand, and even then, there’s no clear cut hint noting that his failures in beating her were combat-based.  She’s able to one-hit KO him in their B Support, but it’s locked to Part II and at this point she’s been both riding on the power highs of her Crests along with actually taking combat seriously.  She even says that their difference in skill level isn’t that great.

(Should’ve used Swift Strikes, Ferdie)

What’s more, in addition to all of those enhancements, she not only spends a lot of Part I in a custom set of armor that only archaic technology from the Agarthans can make, but they also made her a custom Relic that’s tailor-made to her specifications.  The other Relics as well as the Sacred Weapons, being over a thousand years old, still require their wielders to train in order to wield them properly, and in the case of the Relics, their potential cannot be fully tapped into unless the wielder’s Crest matches the Relic they’re wielding.  There’s also that particular safety issue, per what happens with Sylvain’s brother Miklan.  But this is not the case with Aymr, which is brand new, has a mismatched Crest that doesn’t negatively affect Edelgard, and requires the Agarthan tech-compatible Agarthium to fix, not the Umbral Steel that’s used to fix both the Heroes’ Relics and other Crest Stone weapons like the Vajra-Mushti.  The Aymr’s specific Combat Art even emulates the oft-broken Galeforce skill from Awakening and Fates.  It feels like that Aymr in particular is the Edelgard what Hephaestus’ swords and shields are to the Alexandra family.  

Now I don’t really think that an Edelgard who’d be stripped of her Crest of Flames, the Amyr, or her special Flame Emperor armor, would be as hapless as Pyrrha would be without her mother’s sword and shield.  I imagine she likely started to do some kind of formal combat training once the experiments were done with, not just to kickstart her dreams of imperial conquest, but also to protect herself anyway after everything that happened; She’s also the only Hresvelg heiress of her generation left.  There’s also her natural Minor Crest of Seiros to consider.  But if you stripped all that away from her, then her ability to fight probably would come off as useless flailing to the other three more experienced combatants.  

All those cakes and that lack of muscle would at least catch up to her, anyway.

[loopy777]

RE: WIPs game: do I even want to know what Dicebenders is is it another scam how many times are the Gaang gonna get arrested for scamming

No, this time it's me scamming people. XD The dice in question are the RPG Dungeons & Dragons kind.

For a while I was doing a screencap webcomic in the style of "DM of the Rings" and "Darths & Droids" with another creative fan named Captain Boomerang. I was the scriptwriter and selected the screenshots for each panel, and Capt-BA would assemble the comics and improve my scripts (a process that did frustrate me a little, as I felt locked out of the revision process, but I did like the results. I just felt like I wasn't holding up my end of the partnership a bit). I wrote a story bible explaining the characters and storytelling rules, planned out the adaptation of the entire AtLA premiere, and had less detailed plans for the rest of the series, but we only got 6 comics in before Capt-BA went on a trip and never returned to the internet. I did manage to re-establish contact with her long enough to get permission to continue the comic, but the problem is that I have no image-editing skills whatsoever.

If I could find comic-making software that I know would do what I want and be easy to use, I wouldn't mind dropping some money on it, but everything I've looked at is trying to do lots of things I don't need. I only want a way to import existing pictures into comic grids, and then easily add dialogue bubbles. That's it. But the stuff I've found is more about image-editing than comic assembly, and it takes me an hour to put together a dialogue bubble that looks good. So I have 3 scripts that were never produced, which along with the planning docs are what's in that WIP folder, and I don't ever see myself going beyond that.

Besides, someone else already managed to complete something like this, and while I'm not a fan, I don't need to be. At this point, Dicebenders is dead. I'm glad I tried it, and it's a shame it didn't work out, but I'm happy with the other projects I've done instead.

I am squatting on an empty Tumblr for it, though.

Anyway, to share something new, here's the first section of the Story Bible I wrote to make sure Capt-BA and I were on the same page in terms of characterization. The rest of the bible details the plotlines for full series.

AVATAR: THE LAST DICEBENDER

BIBLE

Premise- A small group of players attempt to run a fantasy martial arts RPG that winds up essentially becoming the Avatar saga, or something very close. The main point of the series is comedy, based mostly on ridiculous links between Avatar and RPG's. Sometimes the humor will be in the vast difference between what happens in the comic, and what happens in the cartoon with the same screenshots. Other times, the funny will come from the unexpected ways they converge.

SPIRITUAL PREDECESSORS

DM of the Rings- The original, and my personal favorite. It's a good showcase of how to run a single quest together, while using narrative jumps to skip to the good bits.

Darths & Droids- A similar project, this stands out from its predecessor in two main ways. The players and GM are more friendly with each other, and are more or less having fun with each other. There is also a running, coherent storyline in both the game and in the lives of the players.

Benders & Brawlers- This is actually an existing attempt to do Darths & Droids with Avatar. This is helpful as an example of what we DON'T want to do, retell the Avatar story in a completely straightforward manner, with RPG players behind the characters.

CHARACTERS

None of the characters will be given real names. The players shall always be referred to by their character names, although this can be done in a teasing, ironic manner. When the characters are speaking, their dialogue bubble must always be attached to an image of the character.

The Gamemaster- The GM is a female in her early teens. She is a geek, and a bit of a social outcast for it. Nevertheless, she's trying to make that work for her, although she's not quite mature enough to make it happen yet. She has just discovered RPG's, and in her enthusiasm has gone all out in starting her own campaign. The only problem is that she doesn't know how to recruit players, so she ropes her best friend and little brother into playing with her. This is the GM's first campaign, so she'll a little in over her head. She knows the mechanics of play, and what she's supposed to be doing as GM, but doesn't have the fine skill in crafting an engaging RPG experience. Still, she wants to do her best, is willing to learn, and has a positive attitude about the whole thing. The GM has a strong crush on the Sokka player, but the only way she can express it is by having all the female NPC's flirt with the Sokka character.

Katara- Female in early teens, and the GM's best friend. Katara's player was friends with the GM from when they were both in grammar school, so while they have grown up into wildly different personality types, they are fully loyal to each other. Katara is popular, and outgoing, and doesn't care or know about geek stuff at all. She's only playing the game because the GM begged her to. At first, Katara is clueless about RPG's, and frequently questions or ridicules the mechanics of the game. She never quite gets into the idea of role-playing, but quickly takes to the idea of meta-gaming. She'll have her character act like a righteous do-gooder, because completing missions and fighting bad guys earns XP. She hoards items that will boost her stats. She'll advocate abandoning a mission/plot if it doesn't pay out enough rewards. Katara's player also can tend towards trying to Mary Sue her character, but this is inconsistent and usually shot down by everyone else.

Aang- Male in junior high, and the GM's little brother. He plays simply because his sister has cajoled him into it, and there are hints that he's getting some kind of reward or payment for it. He abuses his position by forcing the GM to give him what he wants in the game, even if it breaks the rules- access to the restricted Airbender class, the ability to bend all four elements, overloaded stats, an Avatar State that protects him from dying, a magic super flying cow ride, etc. However, it's important to note that Aang's player isn't a jerk. He's just immature, and like all kids, just always goes for what he wants via the easiest path, and doesn't realize that he may be causing trouble or hurting feelings. He's enthusiastic about trying out this RPG thing, but he has trouble coming up with any action beyond attacking or retreating. He's also hyper aware that the GM and Katara are girls. He is too old for cootie concerns, but thinks that girls are fundamentally different creatures with their own incomprehensible concerns. Having a big sister, he doesn't find this a big deal, just part of life. Aang's player is too young to be a geek. He likes cartoons and sports and fantasy and school-dramas. He also tends to follow whatever his sister likes.

Sokka- Male in late teens. This guy is your quintessential RPG player. He has is own top-quality dice, he's played campaigns and systems of all kinds, and knows the tropes of the hobby cold. He's a huge geek for all things geeky, but roleplay is easily his favorite. He's a social outcast, but he's made friends among his fellow geeks, and thinks life is just fine. Sokka's player joins when he meets the GM at the comic/games shop they both frequent. The GM was buying some sourcebooks and material to support the fantasy martial arts game she's running, and Sokka noticed, asked about it, liked what he heard, and got permission to join the game. What Sokka doesn't realize, because he is a geek and neither has experience with it or realizes it's even possible, is that the GM is sweet on him. This manifests in the character Sokka's canon luck with the ladies, only kicked up a notch. *Every single* female NPC flirts with him, whether it's appropriate or not. Sometimes player Sokka notices and tries to roleplay it, and sometimes he's just plain confused. Sokka has a few quirks. His best set of dice are his Lucky Red Dice, which always roll high when he needs it, but have been tested and proven to be fair dice. He also mandates that every character he plays use a boomerang; he was turned into a geek by the first video game he ever played, a Legend of Zelda title, and his favorite weapon from those games are the boomerang. Each of his characters has a unique, named boomerang.

Zuko- The GM's favorite NPC. She created him to be a compelling, dramatic character, with a complicated back story, moral struggles, badass loner personality, angst about his existence, a darkly noble quality, and a cool scar. The GM intended Katara to get to know Zuko, for her to try to woo him away from the side of evil, and perhaps to even have a romance with him. The PC's, however, couldn't care less about him. To them, he's just another mini-boss, and the fact that most of his character development is happening "off screen" means they don't realize that he's recruitable. A frequent gag is Zuko delivering a stirring monologue while no one pays attention.

Iroh- Background NPC. The GM tries to use him to give (ignored) hints to the players.

Toph- (tentative) A male munchkin gamer who picked a long list of weaknesses in order to get superbending. Toph's player is a friend of Sokka's player, brought in after an "incident" with his old group, and causes some initial resentment in the group when tries to show the n00bs how its done. Cowing Toph's player is a major victory for the GM.

Momo- NPC, but maybe make him a talking sidekick who gives the players hints when the GM is really exasperated?

Azula- the GM's best favorite villain. Azula is the GM unleashed, letting her take out frustrations on the players in both combat and harsh taunting. Eventually the GM comes to like the character so much, she retcons mental health issues into the character's backstory, and has her pet NPC, Zuko, spare her.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Dr. Mystery

Another gift for @siro-cyll​ cuz I have unhealthy obsession with their work and just gotta write fanfiction for it. I also may or may not have an unhealthy desire for more Ford and Mabel bonding content. (By the way, to all of you who liked my last gift, Tiger Stripes, and especially to @siro-cyll​, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for all of your love and support! I’ve been close to tears so much lately due to your kindness. Just... thank you so much.) Oh! And, S.C., there’s a special little message for you told by your favorite six-fingered fluffy owl; everyone needs a little encouragement and I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you. - N.S.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since the Pines family had returned to Gravity Falls for the summer, Soos and Stan shared the role of Mr. Mystery. It was primarily Soos' responsibility so that Stan could sit in his boxers for as long as he wanted, but every so often - to give the old man something to do or so Soos could work on a project or a repair - it was like the good ole days with the original My. Mystery scamming tourists and a humble handyman making the shack stand strong.

Unfortunately, Soos caught a bad case of the summer flu, and so to try to keep two old men and two young teenagers from getting sick, he quarantined himself in his room and Stan had to fill in the My. Mystery role. It felt good to be back in his old ways for a bit, amazing gullible tourists with made-up attractions; he had been doing this for thirty years, he could do it for a week, right?

Wrong. When it was almost ten o'clock and the first tour was scheduled to happen at eleven, and Stan still wasn't up yet, Mabel decided to wake him up in the best way possible: by attacking him with hugs. She tip-toed in her socks and oversized t-shirt her dad gave her to her grunkle's bedroom and carefully opened the door to prepare her attack, but a nasty cough destroyed her devilish plan and she hurried to Stan's bed.

"Grunkle Stan? Are you okay?" Mabel asked. Stan tried to tell her that he was fine, but she felt his sweaty forehead and gasped, "You've got a fever! Hold on!"

Meanwhile, Ford was sipping his third cup of coffee in the kitchen and reading the newspaper since Stan wasn't awake yet to hog it. He saw Mabel running across the hallway and up the stairs out of the corner of his eye and chose to ignore it; his niece often got excited about little things. His concern only came when she ran past the kitchen again, this time fully dressed in a red skirt and a handmade white sweater with a red cross, a white headband over her hair.

"Mabel, sweetie, what's the matter?" Ford called; Mabel wearing her nurse's sweater was never a good sign. Unless she was playing doctor with Waddles.

She popped back into view, this time with medicine, a washcloth, and a first-aid kit in her arms. "Grunkle Stan is sick." She answered and went off to help.

Ford decided that Mabel needed a capable adult's supervision and he followed her to Stan's bedroom, only to find her responsibility giving Stan a thermometer to hold in his mouth and cooling him down with a damp washcloth; Mabel even put on her stethoscope and listened to her uncle's breathing and heartbeat to see how forced it was. Ford crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the doorframe, and smiled proudly at his little pumpkin.

"You sound really congested." Mabel commented calmly. "Does anything hurt? How's your head and your tummy?"

"Stomach's fine for now, but my head's poundin'." Stan groaned quietly.

Mabel took the medicine bottle she had brought from the nightstand and read the directions carefully. "Okay, I think you should take this every six hours, only a cap full. Once it starts to relieve pressure and congestion your head should stop hurting."

"Good job, my dear." Ford complimented, recognizing the bottle of syrup and giving her his approval to give it to Stan.

Mabel's cheeks turned rosy and she filled the cap with the appropriate amount of medicine. Then an idea came to mind and she put the medicine back on the nightstand. "Oh! Hold on! I'll be right back." And she hurried past Grunkle Ford and out of the room.

Ford smiled sympathetically at his brother. "So you caught Soos' flu, huh?"

"I'd fire him if I could." Stan growled and ducked his head under the covers.

Ford chuckled at how little Stan had changed from when they were kids; as tough as he was, whenever he was ill he tended to curl up like a bunny and sleep off his virus.

Mabel came back with a glass of water and gently rubbed Stan's shoulder to coax him out from behind the blankets. "You can take your medicine now. You should take it with water so it doesn't taste as yucky."

How can anyone resist smiling at Mabel's kindness? Stan's lips curled upward as he propped himself up on his right elbow and accepted the cap of medicine, took it, and then gratefully had Mabel's glass of water, but he did so after she took the thermometer out of his mouth. "Thanks, pumpkin."

Mabel just smiled at her hero. "You've got a fever of 101.5. Definitely the flu. You should rest and I'll be back at lunchtime with some soup." She packed up her things and left her uncle to rest.

Ford was about to follow her out of the room, but Stan stopped him. "Hey, do me a favor, Sixer, and keep the shack open, okay?"

Ford stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You know, run the tours. Make sure Wendy does her job. Squeeze every cent you can outta the tourists. The usual business stuff."

Ford put his polydactyl hands up in both surrender and defense. "N-No, Stanley, I can't do that. I'm a lot of things, but a businessman is not one of them."

"I ain't askin' you to own the Mystery Shack - which in a way you kinda already do - I'm just asking you to hold down the fort until Soos or I are back in the game." Stan groaned and closed his eyes, laying on his back, and he waved his hand in the air casually. "C'mon, you're an anomaly expert, right? Just tell 'em about some freaky safe weird thing and do it with some dramatic flare."

"But…"

"Grunkle Ford," Mabel whispered as she returned and held his hand. "C'mon, we gotta let him rest. You don't wanna get sick, do you?"

Ford let her walk him out of Stan's bedroom and she closed the door behind him, the scientist's stage-fright giving him tunnel vision. Just as the sweater-twins were at the bottom of the stairs, Dipper came down in his orange t-shirt and gray shorts, pinching at his stiff eyes.

"Dipper," Mabel called to get his attention. "About time, sleepy-head! Anyway, Grunkle Stan is sick, so we need to work extra super-duper hard to keep the shack open!"

Dipper, coming to his senses, said, "Great, do I need to be Mystery Jr. again?"

"Nope! You're gonna help manage the tours so Grunkle Ford can lead them!"

"You got it." Dipper pulled out a pencil and a notepad from his shorts and got to work. "I'll help Wendy with the ticket sales and I'll pull from Soos' spare attractions to fill up the shack today."

Ford shook his head to clear it. "Dipper, my boy, if you have done this of all before, perhaps you should…"

"Nah, ah, ah." Mabel said gently, shaking a finger. "Grunkle Stan asked you to run the shack, not Dippin'-Dots. Besides, it'll be good for you to try something new! Now go hurry and get dressed!" And she and her twin went into the kitchen to plan the day.

Ford sighed and went into his room; he supposed he could last one day, right?

In the back of his closest, hidden by the many colorful sweaters Mabel had made for him (she claimed that he was her favorite model), Ford had a spare suit to replace the one Stan had stolen from him after disappearing on the other side of the portal. He shed his red sweater and changed into the formal attire, unsure of what to do for a tie. Guessing Mabel knew where one of Stan's ties were, he put on his white button-up, gray vest, and slipped on his black coat while he looked for her.

Mabel emerged from the living room and stared at her uncle with shining eyes, then let out a very "fangirly" scream. "Grunkle Ford! You look amazing! Wow! You might just steal Stan's title as the silver fox in the family!" Mabel giggled at her joke while Ford's entire face turned beet-red. "Here, I made these for you." She held out a maroon fez and matching neck-tie, but the fez, rather than a crescent, had a golden six-fingered hand, and the tie had a golden six-fingered hand pin. "The best way to be Mr. Mystery is to be you."

Ford smiled affectionately and was starting to feel a little better about this whole thing. He got on one knee and accepted the gifts. "Thank you, Mabel. I think these will suit me just fine."

"No pun intended?" Mabel asked, making Ford laugh as he tied on his neck tie and let his pin show proudly. She helped by putting the fez on the top of his fluffy hair, running her little fingers through his charcoal-fluff. She pressed her lips and hands together and squealed again. "Eck! I gotta get my camera!"

"Mabel, no…" But she was gone.

Ford sighed and stood. He turned to look at the mirror and examine his appearance. He did look… nice? Maybe. Possibly. Mabel seemed to think so and she had exquisite taste. Ford decided to ignore the fact that her opinion was biased since they were family and he also decided that his little shooting star might be right.

"Grunkle Ford!" Mabel's voice ringed like cheerful bells, and when he looked her way he was blinded by a flash of light. Mabel got a polaroid of her fluffy, floofy, flustered old nerd whom she admired dearly. She grinned at the picture and claimed, "I never miss a scrapbook-ortunity! I'm gonna go add this to our family scrapbook! Dipper's ready for you in the gift shop!" And she skipped away to work on her arts-n'-crafts.

Ford took in a deep breath and reminded himself that it was only for one day as he walked towards the shop. Dipper had planned out a good schedule for the tours, bringing back nostalgic attractions as well as some new ones. First, the rock-that-looks-like-a-face had been brought inside to start off the tour; then a collection of rare and exotic (probably fake) pictures, like of bigfoot or of horses riding horses (Ford wasn't sure if that picture was PG); then the "ugliest creatures known to man" gag; then shells of a dinosaur egg (which Ford was pretty sure was legitimate and from Stan Jr.); and then finally the sack of mystery.

When Ford left to greet the arriving tourists at eleven o'clock, Wendy asked Dipper as she flipped through her magazine, "You have a backup-plan, right?"

"Oh, totally." Dipper said and replaced his pinetree-hat with an eyepatch.

Ford took in a deep breath and then gave his little audience a toothy grin (he was lucky that it was flu season and there weren't a lot of tourists today). He just had to be like the original Mr. Mystery. He could do that, right?

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to my humble Mystery Shack! I, Mr. Mystery, will gladly give you a tour so you may gaze at many abnormal wonders that plague my home." Ford gestured to the rock. "Behold! Rock That Looks Like a Face rock: the rock that looks like a face!" And he grinned nervously; his anxiety was starting to increase subtlety.

"Does it look like a rock?" An old lady asked, adjusting her glasses.

"Um… n-no." Ford's confidence was starting to fade. "It's a rock that looks like a face."

"Is it a face?" A chubby boy with a lollipop asked.

"N-No, it only looks like a face."

"But where did it come from?"

"Was it once a face?"

"Is that what we look like when we're dead?"

The questions kept on coming; this normally wouldn't have bothered Ford so much, he lived to seek out answers, but these were questions he could not answer nor could he investigate to find the answers; he was expected to know what to say on the spot; Stan could do that, but Ford could not. He swallowed as his skin paled.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

The group turned to find a boy in a suit with an eyepatch and his hair combed back. They gasped and admired the adorable Mystery Jr., having heard of him from last summer, and the tourists hurried to him, leaving Ford free to breathe heavily and try to relax.

"Thank you, thank you all for coming!" Dipper started to lead the group to the next room. "You'll quickly notice the numerous attractions we keep here, but some weirdness we could only capture through pictures! Be amazed, at our Hall of Photos!"

Ford slipped away as cameras flashed and gullible tourists were entertained. He wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief and he realized what happened; he got stage-fright, inconvenienced by the slightest change, choked, and his own nephew had to swoop in and save him. Ford was incredibly flustered and embarrassed and decided to get some water from the kitchen.

He found Mabel there, wearing an apron over her nurse's sweater, and she stood on a step-stool in front of the stove, mixing a big pot. She smiled sympathetically when she heard her uncle come in. "Hey, how did it go?"

"Horribly, my dear." Ford groaned and filled himself a glass of water from the sink. "I just couldn't do it. I know Stan asked me to do it, but I think it would be best if Dipper continued to handle the tourists. I would be happy to assist in some other way, but I'm no Mr. Mystery. I'm nothing like Stanley."

Mabel paused her work, tapping the wooden spoon on the side of the pot to shake off some broth, and she turned to look at him. "Grunkle Ford, that's not true. You're very much like Grunkle Stan; you're both sweet and handsome and strong and very brave."

Ford turned red and hid the bottom-half of his face in his cup. "Th-Thank you, Mabel." He stuttered.

"And it's okay that's you're not like him. More than okay." Mabel insisted as she moved to where chopped vegetables laid and she scooped some up into her hands. "We never wanted you to be. At least I never wanted you to be. You're supposed to be Dr. Mystery, not Mr. Mystery. Look, being weird and being different is awesome cuz it gives you a chance to be yourself. You have to give the tours your way. Get open, get honest with yourself, invent your own way of doing things, no matter what others think. Leave people confused by how awesome you are; that's what it's supposed to mean to be Mr. Mystery."

Ford's eyes were round and shining like stars as he stared at his niece, who plopped the veggies into the soup and stirred them in. "M-Mabel Pines, that… that was very wise and mature of you. When did you learn all of that?"

"Somewhere between fighting an unholy triangle and getting my braces taken off." Mabel joked, grinning to display her braces-less teeth. "Oh! Maybe my braces held back my wisdom and whatnot! We should sue my dentist for everything he's got!"

Ford laughed, feeling much better than he has felt all day.

Mabel tasted her homemade chicken soup and said, "Lunch is almost ready. Want some? I made plenty to share."

Ford smiled and nodded. "Thank you, my dear. I will be back in a moment to join you for lunch." And he left for his room again.

Mabel was right; Ford had been trying to hold a false image of himself, an image he didn't have because his twin had it, and really he just needed to be himself. Ford tossed the fez on his couch and saw the white lab coat on his desk-chair. He smiled and exchanged that for his suit-jacket. He smiled, much more comfortable in his trenchcoat-like attire with his gray vest and white button-up, and he adjusted the pin Mabel had given him; he would always treasure that tiny six-fingered hand. Ford went back into the kitchen just as his niece was leaving with a tray holding a bowl of soup and a glass of orange juice and she grinned and nodded in approval.

After a pleasant lunch with Mabel, another tour was scheduled. Dipper offered to take this one, but Ford claimed he had it under control and he knew just what to do this time.

"Now, many of you may have had a friend owe you money or have won poker and someone couldn't pay you right away," Dr. Mystery said eerily, his back to the audience. "But have you ever had The Mothman owe you money?!" And he spun around, his fluffy hair a little extra floofy due to the sudden movement, and he gestured to an inky drawing of the odd creature.

The tourists gasped and clapped and took pictures. "What happened?" A little girl asked with a lisp, reminding the doctor of someone very dear to him, and he cleared his throat.

"I'm glad you asked that, my dear. It all began thirty-two years ago in a strange place long-forgotten…" And he began his storytelling, entrancing his audience and enjoying their captivated attention.

The rest of the day the fluffy, nerdy owl did an amazing job entertaining the tourists with his stories and evidence to back it up, and he even brought in some of his "mad scientist" experiments and had some kids help him mix colorful liquids in beakers so they made bright, harmless, explosions. The tourists were also delighted by their tourguide's extra fingers; never before had Ford been surrounded by so many people who were delighted and happy to see his birth defect, asking questions he could confidently answer and showing how well he could do shadow puppets. Dr. Mystery was a huge hit, and when Mabel watched him smiling and laughing at the last tour of the day she was reminded of that Bob Dry the Science Guy, those videos her science class sometimes put on and it would make the whole class freak out.

As the tourists walked away with boxes full of merchandise from the shop, babbling about what a great time they had, Dr. Mystery waved them away, wiggling his six fingers, and he called, "Remember, we put the 'fun' in 'no refunds'!"

Mabel snuck up behind him and hugged him. Ford jumped, but turned to hug her back. "That was great, Grunkle Ford! I'm really proud of you!"

"Thank you so much, Mabel." Ford got on one knee to be eye-level with her. "You really inspired me to be the best me I can be, and I have no one to thank but you. You truly have a gift."

Mabel's cheeks were rosy again; she hugged Ford around his neck and he hugged her in return, rubbing her back and combing her beautiful long brown hair. She snuck a kiss on his cheek before skipping away to check on Stan. Ford's eyes were misty as his fingertips gently grazed the spot on his face where Mabel had kissed him; He then grinned and left the gift shop, confident that Dr. Mystery would be available tomorrow.

[seungcheolsbodyharness]

warnings: theft, breaking and entering, religious undertones, demons, bodily manipulation, kidnapping

wc: 4.5 k

when you look throughout history, you can easily see how greed - for power, for money, for control - has lead to countless downfalls. the romans, the ottomans, napoleon, thousands of names attached to the idea that eventually, taking too much and hoarding it for yourself will eventually bring about an end.

especially when you take that which you were never meant to have. 

they say those who don’t learn from history are bound to repeat it.

you like to consider yourself a fairly average person. you have a good job, you have good friends, an apartment that’s a little smaller than you’d like but is all yours, and every now and then you like to do something new. something fun. 

even if your friends tell you that what you consider fun is what they consider boring, but it doesn’t matter much to you. you enjoy yourself, even if you’re still staying inside your comfort zone. you try to reason that eating somewhere new and taking cooking classes are fun, laughing goodnaturedly when they roll their eyes. 

“you should try something really new.” they’ll tell you. “something you’ve never done before.” 

you were surprised when a coworker had asked you to go speed-dating with her. not unpleasantly, of course, but surprised nonetheless. it was just the sort of thing your friends would push you to do, and you’ve never considered yourself to be shy, so you agree. 

which is how you find yourself sitting in a crowded restaurant, sitting in a long line at a long table, and across from a similarly long line of men. men you don’t know, have never met before, and will only speak to for maybe five minutes before your time together ends and they move on to the next person. 

all the men you’ve met so far have been nice enough - save for a few who most certainly were not - but definitely not the type of guys you’d be interested in dating. which is fine, you’re here to have fun and meet people more than find a new boyfriend. 

that’s how you feel, at least, until the buzzer sounds and the last man of the night slides into the chair across from you. he’s tall and slim, black hair short, his face youthful in a way that makes you wonder if he’s even old enough to be in this bar, and when he smiles at you he reminds you a little bit of that one emoji. 

“hi!” he says, “my name is hansol.” he scratches at a spot behind his ear, nodding attentively when you tell him your name. “have you had any fun with this? this isn’t really my kind of thing, but my boss thought it’d be good for me to branch out, so...here i am.” he ends with a laugh and you can’t help but laugh with him, it’s so infectious. 

“yeah,” you agree, “a coworker asked me to come with her and then she ended up getting crazy sick, but i was already here so i figured why not, yknow?”  hansol nods and takes a sip of his beer and you take the chance to ask if he’s even old enough for that, smile teasing.

he laughs. “i’m thousands of years old, thank you very much.” you laugh loudly at that, nearly doubling over onto the table. 

“oh, oh man i’m sorry,” you say, breathless. “honestly, i’m really here because my friends think i’m boring.”

“no,” hansol has the decency to sound shocked. “i mean, we’ve only just met but you don’t seem boring at all. and what kind of friends are they to say that anyway?”

“it’s fine, i know they don’t really mean it.” you wave your hand, almost to wave away the idea that your friends would say something like that in an attempt to be malicious. “but they’re kind of right. i pride myself on doing new things, but even the new things are always kind of safe. i’ve just...always done the safe thing, i guess.”

“well, if you want.” hansol hands you the small, laminated menu the waitress had set down before anyone had arrived. “you should take this.”

you snort at the suggestion, turning the menu over in your hand. “and what will that do, exactly?”

“taking things you’re not supposed to is exciting, isn’t it?” he offers, shoving his own menu into his coat pocket. “i have a...collection of things i definitely shouldn’t have.” he whispers, smile wide. 

you raise an eyebrow at him. “what are you, a klepto?” 

he chuckles. “i prefer to think of myself as...a collector of priceless items.”

you roll your eyes. “priceless as in you haven’t paid for them.”

“yes, exactly.” he smirks, shrugging his shoulders. “maybe you should come out with me one day. see how exciting it can be.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “are you inviting me on a date to watch you steal?”

he shrugs again. “only if you’d like. i could teach you to dine and dash, too, but i’m not as big on that as my one friend. and man, can he eat. i prefer the tangible stuff.”

you tell yourself it’s a terrible idea. scream it internally, really. 

it doesn’t keep you from giving him your number after the final buzzer sounds, and telling him to call.

there’s a bit of a glint in his eyes when he tells you he will. 

the call comes a few weeks later, when hansol asks you to meet him at a coffee shop across the street from a shopping mall. 

“hey there.” he greets you, smile lopsided and nearly a smirk as he waves to you from a table near the back. “i wasn’t sure you were gonna show up.”

you shrug and join him, taking a sip from the latte you’d ordered. “so….what’s on your not-shopping list today?”

he laughs. “nothing too big. i would hate for you to get too nervous and make a mistake, you know.”

you raise an eyebrow. “see, hansol, i’m just here to watch. that's what we agreed upon. i'm not planning on doing any...shopping.”

hansol hums and his eyes roll back, thoughtful. “i guess i did say that, huh? fine. but once this is over you'll wish you'd made a grab too.” he finishes his coffee and stands. “shall we?” 

you shrug and look at him with what you hope is nonchalance, but truthfully your heart begins to pick up speed as you follow him through the shop and out the door, coffee cup clutched almost too tightly in your hands. 

you hope it's not too obvious when they start to shake, but hansol must notice because he smiles at you softly and takes one of your hands in his. he squeezes gently as you walk across the parking lot and into the food court, thumb running over the back of your hand as he walks up to the directory. 

“what, you didn't already have a place in min?” you ask, but he ignores you in favor of continuing to scan over the map before pulling you in the direction of a crowded department store. 

“so.” he asks, “you like diamonds?”

you stop moving immediately and stare at him in shock. he doesn't look back until he feels the resistance via the hand he still held. 

“what?” he looks bored and slightly irritated. “not everyone likes diamonds. maybe you're more into amethyst, pearls, rubies even. that's why i'm asking.” 

“i don't want anything. especially nothing gaudy and….” you lean towards him and whisper, “conspicuous.” 

he rolls his eyes and smiles. “another time then. come on.” he tugs you forward and towards a line of scarves, gloves, purses. 

a woman approaches, no doubt to ask if you're in need of any help, but hansol fixes her with a glare that sends her scurrying off in another direction. you think you see his eyes go black, but you chalk it up to the nerves eating away at your stomach. 

“hansol.” you whisper, “i don’t think i want to do this anymore.”

he looks at you from the corner of his eye, brows raised. “too much excitement for you already? maybe we should start somewhere else.” he scans the store quickly and nods. “yeah, nothing i really want here anyway. come on.” he leads you in the direction from which you came, back out into the hallway of the mall itself. 

“you hungry? some food will probably settle your stomach.” 

you narrow your eyes at him and pout. “i never said anything about my stomach.”

hansol rolls his eyes. “your hands are shaking, and you’re obviously nervous, and nerves tend to be bad for the stomach. let’s go eat something.” 

you sigh and let him lead you back towards the food court. you settle on pizza, and sit together in one of the tables surrounded by a wall of plastic plants. “can i ask you something?”

hansol nods, mouth full of food, and gestures for you to go ahead.

“why do you like to steal?” it’s something that’s been on your mind since you met him, nagging at the back corners of your brain as you tried and tried to come up with a reason for him to be so interested in having things he shouldn’t have. “i’ve been trying to understand but i just...can’t.”

hansol swallows and takes a sip from his drink, leaning back in his chair. “i just like it. it’s fun.”

“it’s fun.” you try to put as much bored disbelief into your tone as possible. “i find that hard to believe. i’m nearly having an anxiety attack just thinking about it.” 

he giggles. “that’s because you’ve never done it. if you’d just let me help you, you’ll see how fun it is. how good it feels. it’s like the best damn high you’ve ever had.”

“i...i’ve never been high.” you tell him, slice of pizza raised to your mouth. 

he smiles. “then i think this is exactly what you need.” 

you swallow, the food in your mouth feeling like nothing more than a hard lump in your throat. “i - i don’t know…”

“something small, easy, i promise.” he takes your hands in his and looks directly into your eyes and you feel your nerves melt away. “i won’t let anything happen to you. you see, i never get caught. and i don’t intend to start now.”

slowly, dumbly, you nod. it seems easier to just listen to him, you think. you finish your food and you find that he was right, it really did make your stomach feel better. “okay.” you tell him. “i think i’m ready.” his smile is wide and bright as you continue, “but it has to be small. very, very small.”

he nods. “of course. i have the perfect thing in mind.” 

hansol takes you across the mall to the craft store. “there’s plenty of teeny, tiny things in here that no one will notice have gone missing.” he says quietly, leading you down an aisle of yarns. “at least until they do inventory.”

you frown up at him, not pleased by his joke, and continue down the aisle without him, eyes scanning for something small, but also loose - something out of a bin, nothing packaged, but also nothing that was out in view of everything else. you had enough common sense to realize that without hansol’s advice. 

then you spot it. 

at the end of the aisle, there’s a bin full of small foam animals - really small, smaller than even the palm of your hand. easily shoved into a coat pocket or purse. you let the sleeve of your sweater fall down over your hand and hover your sleeve-covered hand over the toys, gripping just enough to grab one as your hand finishes its skim over the top. you bring your hand back to your side, the tiny toy nestled safely in your clenched fist, then slipped quickly into your purse. you scratch the barcode sticker from the tummy of the toy and stick it to the back of a display. 

you slowly make your way back to hansol, who’s looking at a row of paint brushes that cost more than you’d have thought reasonable, but that didn’t matter. 

“hansol, i - i don’t want to do this. let’s just leave.” you fiddle with your hands and don’t meet his eyes, so you hear him sigh, and can almost feel his eyes rolling. 

“alright, let’s go.” you look up at him through your eyelashes, and he gives you a small smile. “don’t worry about it. it’s cool.” 

you feel your heart pounding in your chest as you approach the exit, hands trembling where they hide in your sleeves, but you keep your face stoic and even as you step through the security measures just before the doors. 

nothing happens. 

you walk back to your car with hansol, and you lean against the hood, watching him pace. he’s clearly a little disappointed, probably having hoped to get more done this afternoon. “i’m sorry, hansol.” 

he opens his mouth to tell you once again that it’s fine, but you hold up a hand to stop him. 

“what i mean is i’m sorry this is all i could get.” you reach into your purse and pull out the toy, a tiny foam whale nestled in your palm. a smile spreads wide across your face, and your heart is beating no longer with fear but excitement. 

hansol looks down at the toy in your hand and smirks. “you played me pretty good, huh?”

your smile grows and your hands shake as you speak. “yeah, yeah i did, huh? oh, oh man it was like - like my heart, yknow, it was beating so hard, and i couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen, but then i just did it, yknow, and i peeled the sticker off and - and i stuck it somewhere, but - but you know how sometimes -”

hansol rubs his hands up and down your arms, telling you to breathe, and you take in a heaving breath, cheeks almost sore from smiling, heart still pounding. “so, how do you feel?”

you laugh, sound bubbling out of you as you shrug your shoulders. “you know what, i don’t really know! i just feel - i dunno, tingly? excited? like i’m ready to run a marathon? oh man, i just feel - a lot, i guess.” you giggle some more and hansol laughs back, hands moving down to hold yours. 

“i’m glad you had so much fun.” there’s a softness in his eyes that you want to write off as being fond, but you don’t want to make any assumptions. “you wanna go get dinner? i’ll pay, everything above board, i promise.”

you hum, rocking back and forth and your heels. “um, yeah, hansol, i think i’d like that.” 

he squeezes your hands and smiles, begins rattling off restaurants he wants to take you to.

hansol takes you on more dates, mostly dinner, but occasionally he’ll mention wanting to bring you along on another one of his...outings. you shrug - the adrenaline kick had been nice, but not addicting, and you haven’t been able to bring yourself to steal anything since that first time. 

the two of you are strolling through the park, bundled in sweaters and scarves to ward off the winter air.

“i want you to come with me tonight. it’s not a big deal, no big job or anything, but it’d make me feel good to have you there.” his thumb rubs over your hand, swings it back and forth between you two. 

you hum, mulling it over in your mind. “what kind of….job, is it exactly?”

he hums back, “well, ‘job’ makes it sound like i have someone else telling me what to do, and it’s not like that. it’s more like i just see something i want, and i figure out how to take it.”

“okay, so what is it you want to take?” 

hansol smiles, eyes shining. “just some jewelry. some art, maybe.”

you peer up at him, eyes narrowed. “art?”

“yeah, you know - paintings, sculptures, maybe you’ve heard of them?” he’s smirking and you wish it didn’t make him look more handsome so that you could be more irritated at him. you make up for it by smacking at his arm. 

“of course i know what art is, you asshole.” you sigh. “fine, i guess i can come along.”

his smirk softens. “looking forward to it. i’ll pick you up tonight, late, so try to take a nap.” he leans down and kisses your forehead and you laugh. 

“yeah, sounds like a plan, i guess.”

you want to say no to him. you really, really do. but you don’t, and late that night there’s a gentle knock on your door. you’ve dressed yourself in all black, worn your most comfortable shoes. you open the door and hansol’s beautiful smile greets you, but there’s something...off about him tonight. you can’t put your finger on it though, and follow him out to his car. 

the two of you drive along in silence, one of hansol’s hands interlocked with yours. 

“tell me again.” you say softly. “why do you do what you do?”

hansol doesn’t really reply, just hums. he takes his hand from yours, and puts it on the steering wheel so he can put his other hand out of the window. 

“i just do it because i want it. yknow? i see something i want, so i take it. i want something, so i have to have it.” his voice is soft. dark. 

you nod, wrapping your arms around yourself to ward off the wind from the open window. “where are we going?”

“you’ll see.” 

you frown. “it’s not like i’m going to blab about it to anyone.”

in the dark, you could swear that you can see the glint of hansol’s teeth. he glances over at you, and you see eyes that aren’t human. goosebumps rise up your arms and you shut your eyes tight, pressing the backs of your palms into them to rid yourself of the vision. you open them again, and hansol’s eyes are back on the road. 

maybe, you think to yourself, you really should have taken that nap.

the drive comes to an end maybe half an hour later - hansol pulls into the driveway of a large house, all dark windows and doors, cars parked neatly in front of the house. other than being a bit larger than normal, it really seemed like any other house. 

hansol parks and gets out of the car, waiting for you to follow suit. 

“this isn’t what i was expecting,” you whisper, leaning against the hood while hansol scrolls through his phone. 

“what were you expecting?” he responds, not taking his eyes off the screen. “that i bring you to a museum? oh no. not this job.”

your skin crawls. “you said we were here for….jewels? art?”

he hums. “i’m here....” he trails off, begins walking up the driveway towards the door. “i’m here for a trumpet.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “a trumpet?”

he looks back at you, but you can’t see his eyes in the dark. “it’s…part of a collection, you could say.” 

you shrug your shoulders and follow him onto the porch. you’re expecting him to do, well, something to the door, but he just....twists the handle and the door slides open without a sound. 

he looks back at you over his shoulder, eyes shining as the moon comes out from behind the clouds. a breeze rushes past, ruffling your hair and making no noise. hansol motions for you to follow him, and you do. 

the house is silent as he leads you through the halls, the house much larger than it appeared even from the outside. despite the dark, he seemed to know exactly where he was going as he began to climb the stairs up to the second floor. you slow your steps, hesitant, but suddenly there’s a tugging from just below your navel and you catch up to hansol quickly. 

“stay close.” he whispers. “it’s in this next room.”

you reach the top of the stairs and right in front of you there is an entrance to a room, barely lit with moonlight through a large window. 

“go in.” hansol directs you. “you’ll know it when you see it.”

“wait.” you whisper harshly. “why do i have to go in and get it?”

“just do it.” hansol’s voice is loud and dark and you whip your head around, heart pounding as you look to see if he’s alerted anyone. you wait, and wait, but nothing and no one comes. 

“no one can hear me but you.” hansol says, “now go and get the trumpet.” 

you don’t have time to dwell on his words before the tugging behind your navel comes again, dragging you forward into the room step by awkward step, feet moving with a mind of their own. your heart pounds harder than you can ever remember, eyes frantically scanning the walls in the dim light. you catch a gleam of something from the corner of your eye, turning slowly to see the light from the moon bouncing off of something unlike any instrument you’ve ever seen before. 

and yet, somewhere inside you, you know that this is exactly what hansol is looking for. shaking, without even thinking, your hands move up and grasp the trumpet, removing it from the shelf as slowly as you can so you don’t disturb anything else on display. 

the second you hold the trumpet against your chest, the room floods with light. your eyes flash up to hansol, standing just outside the doorway, back away from you. you can see that not just the room but the stairway, likely the entire house, is now alight. your only thought is that you’ve been discovered, but hansol doesn’t seem to be too perturbed which only frightens you more. you hurry to him, shoving the stupid trumpet into his arms, and he smiles at you. 

his eyes are black and his mouth is full of knife-sharp teeth. 

“thanks, babe.” he says. except his mouth never opens to form words. you think back to what he told you before you entered the display room. 

“no one can hear me but you.” 

“what are you?” you whisper, unable to move. you can’t be sure if it’s from fear or something...else. 

“i don’t know if you really want that answer.” his voice fills your head, making his way back down the stairs. your body follows. you can hear the pounding of steps and voices yelling from behind and above you, but hansol just continues moving forward until the two of you are back in his car. 

“now, now.” he says as he starts the car. “there’s no reason to cry.”

you hadn’t realized that you were. shaking, your hands put on your seatbelt as he pulls down the driveway. “what are you?” 

he doesn’t answer, just continues driving down the road, back towards town. you start to cry, sobs wracking your chest.  your hands shake, and you scream, and you want nothing more than to throw yourself from the car and get away from him. but aside from the shaking, you cannot make any part of your body move towards freedom. 

“don’t bother.” hansol says. his voice is harsher, a warped version of what you’d heard in knowing him. “i’m not letting you go anywhere anytime soon. you see, there are...places i can’t get into because of what i am. you, on the other hand - human, pure. you can go anywhere. the angels wards would never be alerted by you. not until we’re already gone.” 

“what the fuck do you mean, angels?” your voice comes out shaky and torn, throat raw from screaming. 

he looks over at you and smiles, mouth still full of knives. “you asked me what i am, didn’t you?” he laughs and your hair stands up on end. “i’m most certainly not an angel.” 

“i want to go home.” you whisper, feeling terrified and broken. “please let me go home, i won’t tell anyone what happened. i swear.” 

he laughs again. “of course you aren’t going to tell anyone.” he leans over and presses his lips to yours. “not if you want to stay alive.”

you scream. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to stop screaming out your fear and anguish. 

he doesn’t take you home. instead the two of you keep driving, until you can no longer keep your eyes open. 

when you awake, you find yourself in a bed in a room, surrounded by piles and piles of...stuff, ranging from unworn clothes to books to art, sculptures and paintings alike. 

as weird as your surroundings are, all you can focus on is the pain in your throat - the screaming and sobbing had done a number on you. it was the only thing that reminded you this was not a dream. 

you slowly pull yourself from the bed, towards what you hope is a bathroom. you open the door and step inside, turning on the sink and watching the water run red. you sigh, unable to feel anything but hopelessness. you turn the sink off and shut the door behind you, walking back into the bedroom and towards the other door, moving slowly around the things that littered the floor. 

you open the door and find more piles in the hallway. you walk forward, down the hall, listening to what sounds like a tv playing and following the sound. 

you find hansol, seated on some sort of throne, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. 

“how nice of you to join me, pet.” he smirks. his teeth are normal, now. his eyes are not. 

“i need water.” you force out. “real water.” 

he says nothing, but hands you a glass filled with what appears to be water. you sniff it, find it normal enough, and drink. your throat feels instantly better, almost miraculously so. 

“where am i? why is there so much...shit?”

hansol barks out a laugh. “my things are not shit, pet.” 

“i’m not your -”

“you’re in my home. my home in the human plane, anyway. you wouldn’t be much use to me if i took you to hell. your soul would be tarnished and the angels would see you right away.”

“i’m not your pet.” you mumble. 

“fine.” he shrugs. “assistant, then. point is, you’re not going anywhere until i find the last trumpet.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “what do you even need these ugly ass trumpets for?”

he turns to you, smiling wide, all-black eyes crinkling. “tell me. what do you know about the end of days?”

your blood runs cold. 

you wish you’d never gone to that speed date. 

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 10

[I did another thing! This one is a lot shorter than the last several have been and a little more filler-y BUT we’re getting close to canon stuff (that I’m trying to figure out how I want to write and format still). SO here we gooooo!]

Vegeta

Any miniscule time he was forced to spend alone with Frieza aggravated the prince. Whether to bear the brunt of some reprimand, to listen to him discuss business to an audience of intergalactic dignitaries at a stupid feast he was dragged to and forced to endure like some pet, or to nod along with him prattling on about himself and insulting Vegeta or his race in a single breath, he preferred it when running an empire distracted Frieza from his existence. This rare occasion of the tyrant requesting his company on a special mission had the same effects: the usual rage of being helpless to end the emperor's life, the discomfort of watching his every step and word, the humiliation of bearing his belittling commentary and pretending to be his proud, obedient attack dog. It was maddening, and the only solace in the trip was that he left Dodoria and Zarbon both been behind to attend to other business.

Nappa, Raditz, and Nabooru had also been ordered to deal with another assignment while Vegeta accompanied Frieza. Disconcerting due to the fact that, in circumstances such as this, his cohorts would be ordered to remain on base until his return, placed on a schedule that included training and any other grunt work the commanders could find for them. However, he supposed Frieza wanted to keep his top teams busy conquering planets for him. Vegeta hadn't missed the increase in work they had been assigned, and even their latest three day reprieve had been cut short. He tried to convince himself it all meant nothing, that, even if Frieza noticed how the four of them trained more often than usual in their free time, his ego would keep him from getting too suspicious. But Vegeta couldn't deny the increase in his own paranoia with each passing day. Each day he stepped closer to exacting revenge and killing the bastard, and he constantly found himself dwelling on every possible scenario that could skew or outright obliterate his plot.

"It's almost a relief to have different company for once," Frieza mused, a wine glass held between his middle and index fingers. He nodded to the bottle, a silent insistence Vegeta top him off. The Saiyan swallowed his grimace and did as he was bade. Zarbon's or Dodoria’s usual task. He noted the shift of his crimson eyes to the still near full glass in his gloved hand, and took the hint to take another measured sip. "Zarbon and Dodoria tend to bore me after a while. And their bickering...if they weren't so loyal and useful, I may have offed them by now out of sheer annoyance."

Vegeta chuckled, practiced amusement and rehearsed reactions. "I can only imagine," he responded. Another glance spurred him to add, "I suffer the same with Raditz and Nappa. Though it's less their bickering than some inane, disgusting topic of conversation I don't care to hear in detail."

"Yes, I suppose that is an unfortunate vice of the lower classes, their obsessions with sating their lust." Frieza swirled the wine in his glass, black lips downturned in disgust. "A product of lower brain function, I suppose. They have little more than lewd absurdity to keep their minds occupied. Something the two of us fortunately don't suffer from."

The prince bowed his head, performing each gesture that appeased Frieza with loathing. He didn't care for his useless compliments. He found it hard to focus on them when all he could imagine was ripping those horns from his head and burying them in his eye sockets. Or shoving the wine glass into his mouth and forcing him to chew it up and swallow the shards to laugh as he watched him spit blood onto the pristine floor.  "Thank you, my lord. Your compliments are the highest honor."

"And they do not come lightly, Vegeta. You are an enigma of your kind. Had your race not perished, you would have made a fine ruler. Far better than your father." Vegeta ignored the twinge of rage his words plucked in favor of focusing on drinking the dry wine. "Yes, my tutelage has done wonders for you. Perhaps if my father had done the same with yours as I have done for you, perhaps he, too, could have evolved from a mere monkey playing court and dressed in regalia to a full-fledged ruler."

To keep his grip loose on the stem of his glass and not shatter it proved challenging in the face of his father's mockery. No matter his mixed feelings of the deceased Saiyan king, he did not take insults of his memory well. Especially from the likes of Frieza. He bit his tongue and once more drank to silence the blazing barrage of insults he wanted to sling in retort. 

"You are too kind, my lord." The words burned like acid on his tongue. "I agree that my growth under your watchful eye has favored me greatly. I thank you."

"Of course. I saw promise in you the moment I set eyes on you. However, there is always room to grow and learn, wouldn't you say?"

His tone, the smirk on his lips, ramped Vegeta's paranoia to near overload. Had Frieza found out about his plotting? Led him and his team straight into a trap of some sort?

He was given little time to consider as Frieza spoke up again. "Earlier you only mentioned your Saiyan comrades. It reminded me that you and I have never fully discussed the fourth I added to your team. How has she fared?"

"Nabooru is a competent warrior, well-versed in her craft and battle strategy. She fits in well, and, outside of being mouthy and questioning my authority once in a while, she's proven her worth." He glanced to the wide window before them, to the passing stars and junk, the endless void of space. "She learns quickly and strives to improve where she can. She was hesitant to carry out orders, but has grown out of it for the most part."

Frieza laughed. "Such a glowing report from the commander who pitched a fit over my decision." Vegeta's lips tightened to a thin line and his brows lowered ever further, only encouraging the emperor's delight. "I can't say I'm surprised she has a belligerent streak. Her former king said the same of her when I asked in one of our visits. Your temper must be improving if her first strike didn't convince you to kill her. I have seen you kill for less, after all, Vegeta."

Vegeta clicked his tongue. "She's simply lucky she figured out not to take her insubordination too far with me. Otherwise, I would have. Her power level and skill be damned."

"A lesson well-learned, it seems. I recall it took you some time to learn the same, but I suppose you had the excuse of being a mere child."

Vegeta merely nodded, the memories of the physical abuses doled out by Frieza's or one of his cohorts' hands when he rebelled and the scars left behind all too fresh despite their age. The mental mutilation of the mind games the tyrant played with him. Each had served their purpose because he vowed and showed respect to the bastard with little beckoning. It made him sick, clawed at his pride and convinced him death would be a more pleasant fate. But he wanted revenge more than anything, so survive he must. No matter the cost. It would be worth it someday.

"Sir, we are approaching our target," the captain announced. "T-minus five minutes."

"Excellent. Remember, there will be no need to land here." 

Vegeta glanced to Frieza when his scouter pinged. He pressed the button on the side. "Ah, what good timing, Nabooru. You have landed on Planet Noya and met with the other team there?"

Frieza cut the transmission and sighed dramatically. "Unfortunate, really." He finished off his wine and set the glass aside. "Shikoo and his team were quite the commodity. But one too many rumors about stoking rebellions and insubordination makes it difficult to keep such bad seeds among the loyal."

He waited for her reply, the smirk on his lips growing ever wider. "Yes, yes, I am aware of the success in purging the planet. The instructions to rendezvous with the soldiers sent to Noya were...purposefully vague. The task for you and the Saiyans is to kill that team. Don't worry your pretty head over why, dear. It's unbecoming of a soldier.. Their punishment has been a long time coming."

Vegeta's throat closed up and his mouth dried out. "The proper decision, it sounds like, sire," he managed, finishing his own glass and abandoning it. "Not to overstep my own boundaries, but I assumed we were purging this planet we're going to."

"We are. In a sense." He hoisted himself into his hover chair and propped his elbow on the edge, cheek resting in his palm. His crimson gaze rested on Vegeta, unblinking. "The denizens are...formidable enough, especially en masse, and intel suggests they wish to rebel against me. I have decided the time and potential casualties aren't worth the effort for what little the planet has to offer in the long run, so destroying it entirely will be a far better use for dealing with them. One and done, as they say."

A rare instance in which Vegeta agreed with Frieza’s methodology. He wished he would pass down such an order more often than he did, frankly. Putting down rebellions wasted time when they typically ended up murdering them all anyway. Any extra precautions and instructions usually forced them to hold back or went up in smoke not long after they landed. While he understood that some planets had more value than others, blowing up the planets and washing their hands of the business would allow them to take on more jobs. Send a team to gather whatever resources from the planet beforehand and then he and his team or one like his could destroy the place and move on. Not to mention he liked the thrill, the power behind destroying an entire world on his own.

A blue green planet slowly drifted into view, decent sized with a large landmass facing the ship in its current position in its rotation. Frieza waved for him to follow him to the center of the ship. "Come along. Vegeta. We will approach close enough that your ki will protect you from the lack of oxygen. I will allow you to do the honors." 

Vegeta took the blare of the signal for the opening of the uppermost hatch as his cue to surround himself in a protective barrier of energy. While he could not survive the void of space this way, it offered protection from suffocation for at least a few minutes. More than enough to obliterate the planet and retreat into the safety of the ship once more. He followed Frieza up and through the hatch, hovering over it and facing the planet.

Though only allowed the chance to destroy entire planets on a few occasions, he made a point to remember what it felt like. The exact amount of energy he needed to build in his palms, how to adjust for the size and density of the planet. Back of one hand pressed to his palm, he shifted his arms back behind his head. Violet energy surged around his hands, his body, the draw and thrill of powering up familiar and welcome. Up and up he allowed his energy to rise until he deemed it the perfect amount to accomplish the task at hand. He shoved his hands outward once more and the stored cache of energy fired from his palms and through space, surging through the planet's atmosphere and striking the surface within seconds. The blast drilled through the landmass toward the core, wide cracks and fiery splotches already spreading from the point of contact.

With another beckoning from Frieza, Vegeta lingered a moment longer to watch the spectacle of magma shooting upward and his blast rending the planet in twain before following him back into the ship. The hatch closed and they returned to the navigation deck.

"Not bad, prince," Frieza drawled, scarlet gaze locked on the demolition out the window. "A bit messy, but unfortunately we don't have time to witness the entire fireworks show." A nod to the captain. "To our next destination."

The captain bowed and turned back to the controls. Before they swiveled around fully, Vegeta caught a glimpse of the planet's final moments: a series of explosions peppering the surface as its stability caved. Within moments, it would be nothing but space dust floating among the stars. A mere memory until it faded from it. Would any of its race survive? Would they hear the news of their home's destruction immediately, or only find empty blackness when they return? Would they, too, be plucked from whatever refuge allowed their survival to serve the Cold Empire? Told that a meteor destroyed their planet and they really had little other choice left as the empire still technically owned them?

His jaw tightened. He couldn't dwell on such things. None of it mattered. It never did. I never would.

[witchyangela]

Twilight tag game!

pick 5-10 characters and write your take on the canon version of them vs. fanon version of them. fanon doesn’t have to be what is generally accepted in the fandom, it can be your own idea of what you think a character is like. then tag the same number of people as characters you pick, if you can.

Ay thanks so much for the tag @leahclearwaterdefensesquad and @teamjacobthot !!! Gonna use this opportunity to talk about my BOIS, cos ngl running @incorrectwolfpack has given me many ideas !!!! (I also wanna do characters I haven’t seen many of these about!! So I’m leaving out som of my faves!!)

Paul

Paul doesn’t really have a huge amount of personality in canon that isn’t just ~angry~ which ... hmmm has some implications.. plus like annoying to Jake and loyal to Sam? Like okay let’s give this boi some flavour!

Anyway the way the fandom stuff I’ve seen and I interpret Paul is as a Snarky irrerevent lad! Like he’s a lil mean sometimes but it’s always like fun mean, and he would never hurt anyone! Plus he has a *super secret* soft side that literally everyone knows about, plus he still defo steal Jakes chips because ngl that was funny. He’s also super close to his friends, especially Jared and Sam, and he loves them with his whole heart.

Jared

Really he’s much the same as Paul in canon except with even less personality! Like I looked at the guide and his only personality was “good vision” ... I ...

Anyway my Fanon Jared is just the most of a himbo a mans can be! Like he’s the epitome of pure of heart dumb of ass. He loves his gf and his friends and he loves doin dumb risky stuff cos of his wolf powers! He is super close with Emily also ( ac this is kinda canon) and he loves to bake with her! He’s just alround nice and fun, and his kindness and dumbassery is really well balanced out by his BFF Paul’s sarcasm and way more common sense.

Embry

Again! Canon Embry is kinda a typical boy, like cars and that and his dad is a mystery and like... that’s it? This is one of Jakes best friends Smeyer, a personality pls!!

Anyway my fanon Embry is a bit of an emo, a bit anxious, but he’s trying! He has a lot of work though especially dealing with not telling his mom about being a wolf, and I think that it makes him a little more serious sometimes, still he can forget about that when he’s with his friends!! I’m also very married to the idea of him mama Mia-ing his potential dad jsut cos of the power of that! Also he’s a car boi like Jake and he’s learning to surf... with mixed results.

Quil

This is getting to be a pattern, but yeah again! No real canon personality... like he likes cars less than jake and embry and he was worried about them when they phased but..?

Anyway I see Quil as probs the most book smart of their lil trio, like he’s one of those people who gets straight As without really studying? He’s also probably the most confident, he has a super close supportive family and he tends to be loud and outgoing.( an aside to this, wtf didn’t Smeyer let any of the wolves have two parents?) He is always ready to tell people what he thinks, and and is his high school has a debate team? He is on it.

Emily

Canon Emily could honestly be in the running for most tragic woman, which is wild cos smeyer loves to make her women suffer... she’s an angelic survivor of male violence (ugh i can barely type this) and she lives only to cook for her boys. She suffers under the racist, sexist writing and is basically a cardboard cutout.

Anyway the first step of my Fanon Emily is that Sam can’t have been the thing that gave her the scars. It is such an awful story point and goes completely against the idea of the wolves as protectors. To better fit the themes it works if she was attacked by a predatory vampire or even just a regular bear. Then was rescued by the wolves. It fits better and shows how they actually help the people in their communtity. As for her personality, I see her as someone who is deeply sensible and self assured, the kind of person who would make a fantastic teacher, and who is deeply passionate about the traditional crafts she teaches. She loves working with her hands and tends to stress bake, which is why her house is always full of too many baked goods. Oh and she’s still best friends with Leah.

Anyway hope y’all enjoyed my rambling 😂 I’m tagging @twilightisgaynow @big-idiot-wolf-boys @embrycallsmuffin @missbellaswan @jasperwhitcock and anyone else who fancies a go!!!

[wygolvillage]

been thinking about how i would make a remake/reimagining of simons quest. long post ahead. might be a little stupid since im no game designer or writer or anything lol

random gameplay stuff

it would be metroidvania style, but not all in the castle. imagine it like ooe but the map is interconnected.

i would keep the day/night cycle but it would be less obnoxious of course... probably there would be a little clock on the HUD showing what time it is and how close you are to nightfall. villagers would go inside during the night, but you can still enter churches. churches are your most reliable healing method since save rooms would be pretty sparse in the rest of the world map, and saving at the churches also allows you to skip straight to morning or nightfall if you so desire. being stuck in the middle of the woods during night can be disastrous if the player is ill-prepared since monsters grow stronger then.

there would still be puzzles to figure out and complete, and it would still be a bit cryptic (not to the degree of the original of course), but there is a supporting character i would put in who you can ask for hints at any time, and hers are a lot more straightforward (more on her later). important items are gained through quests rather than bought with hearts, but drop rates would be VERY forgiving since it’s required. like, a villager promises to give you the red crystal if you can get him some fish meat from a merman, which would have about a 40% drop rate... i kind of wanted to preserve the sense of fighting monsters to forage for materials the original has without making the game a total grindfest :P

additionally, materials dropped from monsters can be used to craft food items after simon teams up with the aforementioned supporting character. like i said before, save rooms wouldn’t be super common so it would be implemented as a way to heal yourself when you’re away from town.

the bosses would be decently difficult to compensate with there being very few of them- a true challenge, but they can be beaten with both playable characters if the player is skilled enough

the plot would be expanded upon as well so lemme give a little summary

it begins in simons house where he wakes up having trouble breathing. he’s been struggling with some physical illness ever since battling dracula years prior, especially a nasty bite on his arm he sustained during the fight, and that arm has been turning a pretty nasty shade of grey, like its wasting away. he goes outside to a graveyard near a local church to try and get some fresh air, but it is largely unhelpful. suddenly, he spots an old woman standing at one of the graves. he looks over at him and says mysteriously “ah... must be a horrible night for a curse.” simon is like “what do you mean?!” the old woman tells him to “resurrect him and destroy what remains, or nothing will remain of you”. she then disappears into thin air, implying she’s a ghost or something equally spooky. simon is like “destroy what remains... dracula’s remains?!”

the game starts properly in the graveyard and surrounding forest as simon heads in a fairly straight path towards the town of jova, where he meets a woman a few years younger than him named agnes. agnes’ parents were killed by dracula’s forces when he was resurrected back then, and she admires simon greatly for defeating the dark lord (shes also implied to be a descendant of grant danasty!). she decides to accompany him on his quest after hearing about his curse. he asks the head priest of the town if he knows about dracula’s remains, and the priest tells him that he heard of some of dracula’s followers placing some of dracula’s body parts in their strongholds to worship, and points him to the direction of the first stronghold and hands him a stake. he also warns them that bringing all of his remains together can resurrect the dark lord and it holds a remarkable corrupting power.

simon and agnes then become a character swapping duo (just like portrait of ruin hehehe). agnes is low on defense but can deal plenty of damage at a close range, and her signature weapon is the golden knife. she’s fast as well, whereas simon is more of a slow, defensive character who is best at keeping distance between himself and the enemy. agnes is smart, but impulsive and stubborn, and doesn’t like being told that she’s wrong. simon is a stoic but kind individual who tends to keep to himself. their personalities occasionally cause conflict between them during the adventure, but they eventually grow to become really good friends.

eventually they reach berkeley mansion, the first of the strongholds, and its aesthetic is very much “dark evil church”. there are the usual skeletons and bats and stuff, but some of the dracula followers are regular enemies as well. the first boss is a human who has dedicated his life to following dracula (specifically to contrast against the priest dude who gave simon the stake and directions) who uses magic attacks and stuff. beating him earns simon dracula’s rib, which functions suprisingly well as a shield (which becomes important later).

the adventure continues on like this, going from town to mansion to town, with simons curse becoming more and more hindering to him (from a story perspective not a gameplay one. simon wont become worse to play as because that would be lame as hell). they go to the other mansions, with the bosses being carmilla (guarding the nail of vlad, in a mansion thats very much a vampires lair), olrox (guarding the eyeball, in a massive dining hall themed mansion) death (guarding vlads ring in a Spooky Clockwork Skeleton Mansion with slogras and gaibons and all the usual death stuff), and in the final mansion... there is no boss. just as simon is about to grab the heart, agnes stops him.

Agnes: You told me you were going to destroy the remains, weren’t you?

Simon: Of... Of course, Agnes. Why do you ask?

Agnes: Why haven’t you?

Simon: ...

Agnes: We have almost all of them. You remember what the priest said, right? That bringing them together can resurrect Dracula.

Simon: Well... I haven’t exactly been truthful, Agnes. The old woman who sent me on this quest didn’t tell me just to destroy his remains...

Agnes: So you’ve been intending to resurrect the Dark Lord this whole time? For your own selfish gain?

Simon: This curse will kill me if I don’t.

Agnes: ...So it’s true, then. You’re willing to risk the lives of thousands just to save your own skin. Lives like my parents’... Lives like mine.

Simon: I...

Agnes: There’s no need to explain yourself, oh great hero, Simon Belmont. (Scoffs) If you care more for yourself than anyone else, strike me down now!

surprise! simon has to fight against his best friend! tbh i would be pissed at him too lmao. and it’s a tough fight, as agnes can deal a ton of damage and is hard to dodge. killing her like any other boss will give you the bad ending, where simon realizes she was right and lets himself succumb to the curse out of guilt for her death. the way to the good ending is to use dracula’s rib as a shield (i told you it would be important!) or dodge/survive her attacks until she tires out (the shield is the best method though), and realizes simon doesn’t want to hurt her. they have a touching emotional moment and simon assures her that he beat dracula before and can do it again, but he will need her help. agnes nods, and they head to the ruins of dracula’s old castle, which is totally empty. there’s no music, while the rest of the game has been filled with catchy tunes, here there’s only ambient noise.

they reach the throne room and place drac’s remains on a pedestal, where they begin to glow with dark energy. blood is dripping down the walls and stuff, and the count is returning to the mortal plane as thunder booms in the background. simon begins to doubt himself. if he loses now, the world will be plunged into darkness, and it will all be his fault. but... agnes has his back, despite everything. they fight dracula together, and though it’s tough with simon’s weakened body, they eventually prevail, as simon drives the stake into his heart, the curse finally lifted.

the game ends with agnes and simon returning to jova. agnes admits that she’s still upset with simon for lying to her, but she would be even more upset if he died slowly because of her. simon sighs, stating that there was no easy solution to the situation they were in, and asks for forgiveness for breaking her trust and risking so much for his own desires. agnes says maybe one day she will forgive him completely, and she still considers him a friend, but she needs some time to herself. simon nods, and they go their separate ways.

SO YEAH idk if this is even good but i hope u at least enjoyed reading it. maybe ill make designs for this version of simon, and for agnes too ofc :D

...yeah, not exactly the happiest ending, but i always found it kind of weird that simon was so willing to resurrect the count to save himself from the curse, so that’s the main conflict i decided to add to the story. its not the sort of conflict that can be easily resolved. theres no easy answer... agnes was right about simon risking other peoples lives being wrong, but she was also wrong to insist that he just give up and let the curse kill him instead. its Complicated idk... Castlevania II: Simon’s Trolley Problem

edit: actually i decided there would be two "true endings" after using the shield in the agnes fight. the one i described, and a second one where they decide against resurrecting dracula and simon lives out the short rest of his days with agnes until he dies of the curse. both endings are considered equally canon and valid

[ozbian]

Critters, it has been awhile since Travis' last TM ... so here's a bullet point summary of recent events

I know that a LOT of good good stuff happened last episode, but I don't want us to forget to ask about the older episodes!

(List is mostly cribbed from Critical Recap, tries to focus on major events and stuff most relevant to Fjord and Nott)

...

(Travis' last TM - post Ep 84, with Laura)

Ep 85 - The Threads Converge

Battle with the Inevitable End, following the assassination attempt on Caduceous in the previous episode

Pumat raises the possibility of dispel magic working on Yasha

Nott talks about how she feels wrong interacting with her family while disguised as Veth, and she doesn't feel like she's making a genuine connection

Confrontation with Gentleman about Jester's parentage. He denies it pretty coldly, Jester is upset, Cad smells something fishy

Fjord & the others comfort Jester

Caduceus manipulates the Gentleman by talking about his past and asking him to check on the Savalier Wood and his family

Nott and Beau tell each other about their crushes on Caleb and Jester Beau respectively

Jester confirms the Gentleman is her biological father and they have a sad and important conversation

Caleb disguises himself as Jester and collects her mail, they get Astrid's address

Jester scries on Yasha, they're in Rexxentrum

M9 port to Rexxentrum which is under Krynn attack

Caleb is back in Rexxentrum! He is not okay!

Caduceus is in the middle of a fuck-off massive city! He is also not okay, but less not okay than Caleb.

The M9 make their way through the krynn attack until they arrive at the temple.

Ep 86 - The Cathedral

Fight with the cultists and the Cardinal, Nott kills the Cardinal

Laughing Hand and Yasha arrive, Inevitable End also arrives, Yasha nearly kills Beau

Nott is mindwhammied

Yasha is freed!!!

Obann retreats taking Nott

Pumat Swole offers to stay behind to hold off the cultists while they chase Obann and the M9 reluctantly agree

Guilty short rest

Fjord says he'll take Yasha up on some of her grief and regret and hits her for 19 damage to regain 9 hp

The M9 eventually figure out how to get into the secret chambers

They find Nott awaiting their arrival, Caduceus dispels magic and frees her, Obann's attempted ambush fails and he disappears from sight until Fjord casts Faery Fire, Fjord gets mindwhammied and walked into one of the sacrifice pillars. Caduceus frees his mind but doesn't have enough movement left to get him out of the pillar, Fjord steps free next turn

Yasha gets the hdywtdt on Obann and rips off his wings

The M9 see Obann transformed into Punished form by his evil god ... there are tentacles and teeth and eyes

Ep 87 - Punishment and Politics

Caleb gets swallowed but he cool-ape mans out of it

Caduceus gets swallowed (again) and since everyone's shrouded in darkness no one knows

Beau goes down

Jester is down. No healers...

Fjord nearly takes Obann down

Kadogeist gets the hdywtdt!

Caduceus mass deals and offers to hug the Kadogheist...

Pumat is relatively okay but Nott gives him a potion

Fjord touches the Laughing Hand's body and it poofs into ash, he covers by saying "Let the winds take you to your place of rest" and Caduceus compliments him

M9 are held not under arrest and Caleb is not okay, Fjord checks in

Yasha is updated on happenings incl Fjord's voice change

Meeting with Dwendal (& Allura), Beau implies to Dwendal that she used M9 to get in with the Dynasty & specifically comments on traveling with goblins and half-orcs (and caduceus!) (clearly using the King's prejudice to manipulate him)

Dwendal threatens the M9 with treason against the empire notwithstanding half of them don't even go here?

Parlay with the Dynasty is possible!?

Trent is an asshole and the M9 form up protectively around Caleb when he approaches them

Ep 88 - Unwanted Reunions

Kameruth Cottage!

Fjord gives Yasha the book that Caleb gave to him : )

Caduceus inadvertently inspires the M9 to plot Trent's murder to keep Caleb safe

M9 also plot for world peace

Fjord and Clay talk about honesty and camouflage, and Clay gives him the Wild Mother symbol he crafted at the Force

Yasha dreams of the Storm Father

Meeting with Martinet Ludinus, Jester is charming af, Ludinus politely holds Yasha's potential prosecution over the M9

Meeting with Trent and Eodwulf, Caleb is not okay but he holds his own anyway, Nott fishes for info

Shopping for diamonds and bone instruments

Fjord wants a tournament

(Sam's last TM - post Ep 88, with Liam)

Ep 89 - Lingering Wounds

Downtime

Nott and Fjord continue to walk through the capital city of the Empire undisguised, Fjord proudly wearing his WM symbol

Yasha reads her book from Fjord

Jester messages people

Caleb takes Fjord and Nott by the academy and talks about his past

Beau does a deep lore dive into Empire history

Jester offers to help Fjord with his work out like Beau does, Fjord gives himself a hernia

Jester and Beau have an important conversation, Beau gives Jester Molly's tarot cards

Caleb goes off on his own and talks to Astrid

Fight Club!

Beau beats up a fit older guy

Fjord and Darrow fight with weapons, fjord using his new blade

Darrow remarks that Fjord's been getting into weird stuff, Darrow goes pretty hard and seems to feels a bit bad about it later, Caduceus doesn't cancel a crit, Fjord goes down, Darrow brings him back to consciousness and is too nice about winning, Fjord snaps at the healer who comes out to tend to him and goes to get a drink

Yasha intentionally gets beat into unconsciousness and tries to play it off, Caduceus and Jester are Concerned

Episode 90 - Bathhouses and Bastions

M9 plot and plan their day,

Fjord asks Beau about her workout routine and carb loading

Clay remarks that Trent was telling the truth very carefully

Fjord has a spa day, M9 are supportive, Jester offers up her hair growth solution to assist with his beard endeavours

To the library!

Jester looks into Molly's tarot deck, lore drop!

Clay tries to find out how he should comport himself at a Traveller Convention, there's not much there but he found out it's happening on the longest day of the year

Beau and Caleb go digging for info on uncovered beacon

Nott helps Caleb break through his research, he comments that Nott's husband is a lucky man, Nott checks in, she offers support with Astrid and Caleb doesn't tell her about his visit, long hug : )

Fjord meets up with the party after the spa and asks for feedback from the M9 who are complementary: -

Yasha: your skin looks quite beautiful

Clay: you're glowing

Jester: it looks like you've got a little stubble coming in there

Shopping, Yasha & Jester get their commissions

Traveller doesn't appear and Jester is worried

Group Spa Day!

Party meet up with Darrow, Jester invites him to the Bathhouse and Nott encourages this (is she trying to matchmake with Darrow and Fjord or did she think he was hot and want some eye candy or both or neither??

M9 bamph outta the Bathhouse to Xhorhas in bathrobes

Fjord insists on changing into his normal clothes while everyone else walks on as is - Caleb pranks Fjord using illusion

Meeting with Essek, he is in so deep with the M9, they plot

Dynasty has found a traitor, the Taskhand, Fjord disguises himself as Vence to try and get some info, dude was clearly under some kind of mind control

Meeting with BQ, Caleb is very eloquent, Clay is very honest, Nott is very intently staring at Yasha when the M9 talk about their unnamed formerly mindcontrolled friend, Yasha is very brave

Essek is in very deep with the M9

Essek is invited to dinner but declines : (

[banashee]

Found Family

 Funnily enough, life with 5 kids around instead of fully grown Avengers kind of adjusts itself over time. They get into a rhythm, learn how to approach things and what to avoid. It is very much a work in progress, but still a lot better than anyone would have thought before. And as it turns out very quickly, Thor would let them get away with murder while Phil, more often than not, is the designated holder of the single shared braincell.  

 Believe it or not, they do have a system. Mostly - there are hiccups still.

 At least that is how it starts out. The more time goes on, the more the kids escape almost-disasters in their own household, the more concerned even Thor grows.

 Usually, he loves the chaos and is always up for a fun time. But especially when one of the kids is in danger of getting hurt, he worries - human kids are a lot more breakable than asgardian children, and he is constantly reminded of it.

 “I wonder what would happen if I put this into the microwave.” Steve wonders out loud one day, which, sadly enough, is not at all unusual for his 10-year old self in the 21st century.

 Tony, who is solving a sudoku with Bruce on the kitchen table snorts and absentmindedly says,

 “Sure, try it.”

 But when a few seconds later, the sounds of clattering metal and the beeping of the microwave fill the room, he jumps up in a panic and yells,

 “Wait, no! I was joking!”

 which startles a series of movements from several different directions, with Tony and Bruce both making a mad leap for the plug to pull it out and Thor sprinting in from the other room, grabbing Steve to pull him away and shield him and the other children from a blast that, thankfully, doesn’t happen.

 A sigh of relief comes from all of them. Only Steve, who hangs in the middle of the air held up by Thor, seems to be entirely unconcerned, although very much apologetic.

 Half an hour later, Clint enters the kitchen with Natasha hanging off of his back. Both of them are to be covered in tiny pieces of paper, glue and glitter - no surprise there, since Nat loves crafting and she loves spending time with him. Clint, for his part, is happy enough to keep her company and help her build whatever it is she has set her mind on that day.

 This, and climbing up the walls in the gym are amongst their favourite past times spent together. The only reason that he hasn’t taught her archery yet is simply the fact that they don’t have a bow small and light enough for her.

 Secretly, everyone else agrees that this is probably a good thing, because these two as kids are just as inseparable as they are as adults, and who knows what would happen if Nat had a bow and arrow in her hands - she may be a tiny 6-year old, but it never serves well to underestimate her.

 Right now though, she looks happy and peaceful, snuggled up on Clint’s shoulder while he is looking for snacks.

 “Hey, I could heat up some Bagel Bites…” he starts out but stops in his tracks when a loud, unison choir of “NO!” interrupts him when he is about to touch the microwave.

 “Jeez, guys. What’s the matter?”

 “The microwave may or may not explode - Stuff happened. We didn’t plug it back in yet…”

 “Aw, no…”

 “Sorry!” Steve pipes up, shooting him a bright, innocent smile. He really is lucky he’s cute.

 With a giggle, Natasha jumps off of the older boy’s back and scurries over to the table. She climbs onto a chair next to Steve and looks at him expectantly.

 “What happened?”

 As chaotic as most days are, they have slowly but surely grown together as a family. The fear and distrust from the kids has almost disappeared. Not completely - they’ve seen too much for that - but it’s about as good as it’s going to get for them, they figure. It surprises all of them, especially seeing the children slowly grow closer to the adults as well.

 They have reached the point where some of them are okay with being touched by either Phil or Thor as well as the other kids. That wasn’t always the case.

 Some kids have tried to avoid any kind of physical contact - especially Clint, and he’d made it clear that people would lose fingers if they’d try it. No one doubts that for a second - they would be stupid to.

 He’ll let the other, younger kids pull on and climb all over him or let them use him as a pillow to snuggle with, no problem. But any adult who tried to come near him would be met with resistance if they were lucky, or with sharp objects if they were not.

 Phil, Thor and Pepper never tried, making it clear that they wouldn’t do anything to hurt either of them, unintentionally or not. It works - the fact that he is willing to sit right next to either of them speaks volumes.

 Natasha, for her part, is young enough to crave love and affection from a caregiver, but is already damaged enough to fear it. It’s painful to think of, and even though they’d known her file, and Phil especially knows her history, seeing the effects firsthand in the little girl just about breaks his heart.

 For days and even weeks, Natasha would lurk in corners and doorways, as if hoping that no one would notice her while simultaneously wishing for someone to hug her, just this once.

 Phil suspects that this might be one of the reasons she’d immediately stuck like glue to Clint. The fact that the two of them have always had a close bond is probably one of those reasons, since the kids display very similar relationships to each other as they are as adults. But Clint is the oldest of all the kids while also being young enough to not be threatening like adults are.

 Phil carefully tries not to think too much about that, as well as the fact that Clint is providing something for the younger kids that he knows he rarely if ever had in his own life.

 Bruce is heartbreakingly similar to these two: distrusting, afraid of getting hurt. He is slowly warming up though, and despite everything, he’s seeking out hugs from Thor on a regular basis now.

 As huge and imposing as the god of thunder looks, he is much more gentle than that, and kids in general tend to love him. His age regressed teammates are no exception.

 Tony, as mouthy and suspicious as he can be, at least knows from experience that not all adults suck. Sure, plenty of them do, like his Dad, but there are also people who are loving and kind, like his Mom, Edwin and Ana Jarvis or Auntie Peggy.

 He is slowly warming up, if the way he is leaning against not only the other kids but also either Phil or Thor when they’re watching movies is something to go by.

 Steve, luckily, is a ray of sunshine. He knows differently, despite all appearances, because his own father, from what they know, did not treat Sarah Rogers kindly.  But he’s not as distrustful in general, and overall easy to get along with. That boy is trouble, sure, but never with malicious intent. He, too, trusts the adults relatively easily.

 Dinner that night is a joyful event. They laugh and argue, just like any other family would, and it feels natural by now.

 It’s days like this when Phil thinks that things aren’t nearly as bad as they could be. Sure, most of the Avengers are still kids, and there is no way to get a hold of Dr. Strange or anyone else who could be actually helpful in reversing this mess. But the kids are happy - they laugh and move freely, more or less trusting him and Thor to keep them safe.

 It’s more than he would have wished for at first.

 Early the next morning, however, Phil is about to rip his hair out again. It’s not even the kids fault - who would have guessed that it is a jar of ground coffee that is the culprit. It looks just like the other container, only it has a red lid.

 Clint doesn’t think anything of it when he pours it into the coffee filter that morning, preparing half a pot for himself and Tony - just because they’re 12 and 14, doesn’t mean they’d walk through life with no caffeine. It’s a bit unsettling, really, but it’s nothing they didn’t expect with those two.

 The problem?

 Their regular coffee is in the jar with the green lid. This jar, however, is empty - no big deal, Clint thinks, there is a whole other jar of coffee grounds right there. Only, said jar with the red lid? It contains a devil's mixture that truly deserves its name, what with the threefold amount of caffeine in it.

 Long story short, it is a near-miracle that neither of the two boys has a heart attack, although Phil might just be close to having one.

 Usually, no one touches that specific brand of coffee, unless serious business arises, or if your name is either Tony, Bruce or Clint on any given day - if they’re adults, that is.

 Phil himself is no stranger to living off of nothing but coffee and willpower either, but even he would have to pass if this stuff was his everyday beverage. Nope. No way.

 Later that day, Tony and Clint are trying to run off some energy and literally climb the walls in the gym. Phil is on one of the benches, filing paperwork while keeping an eye on the two over caffeinated boys.

 It probably says something, about their state, that Thor is very much concerned about them, rambling with worry for several minutes straight and then interrupting himself with,

 “Odin's beard, I’m starting to sound like Phil.”

 “Hey! That is not a bad thing I’ll have you know!” the man in question calls back from the stove - part of him hopes that a hearty breakfast might help, at least a little bit.

 The coffee jar with the red lid miraculously disappears out of the kitchen that day - Phil locks it into a cupboard in his office, just to be sure. He’ll happily hand it back when all residents of the tower are legal adults again and know what the hell they’re getting themselves into. Until then, he’ll keep it just where it is. There is no need for another incident.

 For now, Tony and Clint run circles in the gym, Natahsa has joined them just for fun and Steve is hanging out with Bruce on the side - they don’t talk much, since both of them are busy reading books, but it is a comfortable silence. The two of them get along well, and at least with books, they can’t hurt themselves.

 Thor arrives later, bringing a tupperware container with him.

 After spending so much time here on midgard, he picked up a habit or two. Stress-baking being one of them - he passes cookies to everyone, sitting down on the bench in between Phil and the quietest two of the kids. Bruce looks up when the container of cookies appears in front of him, and he happily takes two, handing one over to Steve.

 Then, he scoots closer to Thor, leaning against his arm as he finds a new, comfortable reading position.

      *+~

22 - Shielding

[ngame989]

“Glow” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 5

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Editing: @toxicpsychox, @seddm, @dinodinodude​, an invaluable IRL friend

Summary: A new sort of feeling arises in Star and Marco's relationship, leaving them uncertain how to handle it. But with the advice of their loved ones and their unbounded emotional honesty with each other, they might just discover for themselves how to bask in its glow.

Comic Page

This one’s a bit different, y’all. It deals with sexual themes and has two separate versions, the full story on AO3 being non-explicit/tasteful M and the edited Tumblr version being a heavy T. This is the only fic for TGG that I plan on crossing the T/PG13 threshold with, but my goal for this series was to catalog the journey of Star and Marco after the show ended and I stand by my decision to include this as a part of it. Please read the content warning and enjoy whatever version you are most comfortable with, if either.

Also, as a fun aside, you may recall the first scene of this from the teaser I posted here months ago, so the snippet of Starco fanfiction I wrote in the presence of Daron Nefcy is now officially part of the work!

Masterpost

See below for the text and an important content warning, hope you enjoy!

IMPORTANT CONTENT WARNING AND AUTHOR’S NOTE: This chapter deals with sexual themes and my telling of a >16 year old Star and Marco’s first time. The text below is a modified version of the complete fic, posted exclusively on AO3 (linked below). I want The Greatest Gift as a whole to be accessible to a PG13 audience, and as such the Tumblr and FFnet versions have been altered to fit that, but I would HIGHLY advise you read the full version on AO3 for the intended narrative experience. It contains a non-vulgar and tasteful but still direct depiction of sexual intimacy that I feel is non-expendable to the emotional narrative, but I fully understand if any readers are not comfortable with it and hope you enjoy the version below.

FULL VERSION (AO3)

***

Star Butterfly was sure of only a few things in life: cake is the best kind of breakfast, wood deserves to be destroyed at every opportunity, she loved Marco, Marco loved her - just some basic truths she could always rely on. Certainty was a lofty bar, but if she died right now and went straight to heaven, she was almost certain she’d recreate magic with her bare hands just to portal back to Earthni as quickly as possible. Star wasn’t sure why, really; it was nowhere near her first kiss, still far from her first kiss with Marco, and it wasn’t even their first time getting a bit… heated. Of course she always enjoyed it, but why did everything feel amplified tenfold?

Her train of thought was delightfully derailed when Marco broke their nth kiss of the evening – she’d lost count of how many quite a while ago. She pushed herself back up on her elbows and knees and gazed lovingly at her boyfriend beneath her on the bed, his soothing chocolate eyes and visibly flushed cheeks standing out against the baby blue of his pajamas and bed sheets. So cute, her mind purred. His hands lingered on her cheeks for a few more seconds before they reached up to try and corral a few stray blonde hairs that draped down near his face. His brow furrowed as he struggled to tame her mane; it could have killed the mood after the first few failed attempts, but tonight Star found herself with a slowly spreading dopey smile on her face watching Marco struggle to neaten her up. “Hey,” she giggled after a long few moments, leaning down to kiss him on the nose.

Another large strand of hair draped onto him; his visage took on a determined look as he puffed some air to move it. “Hi”, he responded, satisfied with his efforts and finally returning her grin. They stayed like this, just basking in their goofy intimacy in the starlight twinkling through the window. Those feelings were still slowly smoldering inside, but they instantly ignited when Marco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down on top of him, resuming their kissing with renewed ardency. Her eyes shut as she tried to just tune out the world and experience nothing but Marco. The lingering scent of shampoo or soap, some variant of cinnamon, was something she’d no doubt smelled countless times before, but in the moment it was intoxicating. Instinct took over, and Star’s instincts in this field all tended to lead to one particular place. One hand, then another, slipped their way under his pajama shirt, tracing the area where another Marco in another time might be buff beyond belief, but the last year had still done him quite a bit of good in that department. A tingling sensation, one that she wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with, pricked her skin all over when one of Marco’s hands moved upward to tangle itself in her hair and bring them ever closer, trying to feel as much of his presence as she could. Light began to seep in through her eyelids, which was odd considering the sun had gone down and all the lights were off. She opened her eyes, still maintaining the kiss, and moved a hand up to the back of Marco’s head to inspect the situation while idly twirling a lock of his hair.

Upon seeing a two brilliantly glowing moons on his cheeks, she started suddenly enough that her forehead collided with Marco’s. “Ow, Star, ow, what the-”

“Marco… your cheeks…”

His eyes opened after he finished rubbing the pain in his forehead out, finally noticing the brilliant light. “That hasn’t happened since right after Cleaving. Weeeeird. Wait, why aren’t yours glowing?”

“They aren’t?” Star’s nose scrunched up in thought; rationally, she knew that there wasn’t necessarily any reason to expect it, but usually everything between them happened in sync. “You’re right, it’s weeeeird.”

Marco propped himself on his elbows and shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. Could be something dumb, that happens a lot with magic. Maybe it’s just because I drank too much soda earlier,” he jested.

“I finished off all the Mountain Mew days ago, and mine didn’t light up then,” Star retorted, but her eyes went wide before she’d even finished saying it. Oh no, Star, you really screwed up now...

“Explains why you were so jittery,” he sniggered, shifting to lie down once more. He was halfway down on the bed before he sprang back up, pivoting directly towards Star and staring at her incredulously. “Wait, all of it? Even the limited edition Caja Clash?” She merely responded with a guilty lopsided smile, eyes downcast. “Staaaaaar... That was Quest Buy-exclusive, and that was like a year’s supply…” he groaned and slumped back into the pillows.

“It’s just so delicious, Marco! Ugh, it was dumb, I’m sorry, I always tell myself ‘just one more’ but then-”

“Star,” he said firmly to cut off her imminent rambling. After a long moment, during which Star finally managed to still herself, he warily smiled. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, I’m sure we can find more somewhere. Maybe Tom has connections or something. Besides, I still have at least a few hidden in case something like this happened, so we can just-”

“Well, about that…”

“Decoy backup stash,” Marco stated flatly. “Good thing Janna hates the stuff, though, or else there’d be no hope for any of it.” Star snickered, relieved that she hadn’t screwed everything up. He shuffled under the covers and gave her an expectant look, at which she crawled in beside him. Deep down she bemoaned the fact that something just always seemed to get in the way lately, but she cherished all these moments nonetheless. They shared one last quick kiss before she turned around and wiggled herself into his arms for their usual night-time cuddles.

“G’night, Star, love you.”

“Love you too,” she sighed out, but something still didn’t add up. It had to be the soda, right? It still nagged at her a little bit, but it was more comfortable believing that the unexpected tonight was all some dumb delicious soda’s fault. Maybe it wasn’t certain, but it was easy, and giving in to that idea calmed her until sleep finally took hold.

***

Forward, forward. Thrust forward. Steady on your feet. Star pressed the attack with a flurry of slashes, keeping her momentum driven towards her opponent relentlessly. He took it in stride, deflecting each blow and hopping backwards in lockstep with her, spinning and ducking and dodging, seemingly immune to being thrown off balance. A forceful parry turned her most powerful strike against her, sending her reeling backwards.

You can do this. Her eyes darted around momentarily in an attempt to regain her bearings. Steel from Marco’s blade sparkled in the fading Earthni sunlight, distracting from the far more ornate guard covering his hands entirely from this angle - dark blue with a heart and crescent moon on opposite sides of the weapon - it was only fitting he’d decided to nickname it “Cleaver” when she gave him the custom-crafted falchion for his birthday months ago. He was wearing an outfit similar to his riding gear, a ripped jacket on top of his grey t-shirt to protect from the chill of the evening weather. Star couldn’t help but notice that it was hugging him a bit more closely than when they’d started these sparring sessions in recent months, probably from a combination of his growing height and the light muscle definition making itself visible through the fabric. The calm of their recent lives was wonderful, but this was a welcome dose of action and adventure, and she wasn’t exactly opposed to getting to seeing Marco in the heat of battle more often.

Focus. Their eyes finally met, his smoldering with enough confidence to outmatch the fire in her own. Star and Marco stared at each other for a few moments, breathing heavily. Finally, Marco slowly advanced, measuring his strikes carefully to be counterable but still successful, shoving her backwards without ever completely finishing the job.

He’s good, but you’re Star Butterfly. She huffed each time metal clanged on metal, trying her best to mirror Marco’s cool responses to oncoming attacks but getting more and more frustrated and unsteady with each blow. Finally her patience snapped as she dashed towards him with a strangled scream. His eyes narrowed as he powerfully swung in retaliation and Star’s realized a split-second too late what he was aiming to do. The silver blade struck home near the hilt of her own right when she adjusted her grip for her own strike, knocking it to the ground.

Oh crud.

The two registered what was happening at about the same time, a spark of panic evident in Marco’s expression as Star started to topple to the ground. He tossed his weapon aside gracelessly and dove forward instinctively, wrapping an arm around her before they both hit the grass, rolling until she was lying haphazardly on top of him.

“Soooooo… draw?” Star suggested playfully after she’d regained her breath.

Marco chuckled, stretching out his limbs on the ground rather than wasting any energy trying to get up. “Fine. It was a close one.”

She rolled over and debated pushing herself up on her hands to face him, but instead opted to flop down into his chest since her arms felt like pudding. His heart pumped forcefully enough to make the vibration felt on her cheek. “Yeah, but I haven’t won yet. Still getting used to fighting without any magic.”

“You’ll get there, Star.”

“I know. I do have the best teacher, after all,” she crooned, waggling her finger lazily in the air before booping him on the nose and scooting upwards to nuzzle into his neck. Another few minutes of rest went by until Star shivered, feeling an especially potent blast of cold air on her skin. “OK, Marco, cuddles are great and all but it’s kinda cold and I’m kinda sweaty.” She stood and helped him up, taking the swords back inside. “Dibs on first shower!” Star shouted when Marco was distracted, bolting upstairs before he could try and stop her. She stepped under the spray, letting the initial burst of cold water hit her to rinse off before settling in under a soothing warm deluge. The only thing that kept her from letting it massage her aching muscles for minutes or hours was the fact that she knew Marco needed a turn just as badly as she did, so she cut it short - by Star standards, anyway - and got dressed before giving Marco the all-clear.

Right as he finished, Angie called upstairs to inform everyone that dinner was ready, and Star followed her downstairs, famished from the afternoon’s high-octane physical activity. Marco joined while his parents were collecting the bowls in the kitchen, his hair still damp and glistening. Star giggled and poked at pieces matted to his face, brushing them aside. Without realizing it, her left hand lingered on his face, thumb idly rubbing circles on his cheek, while her right dropped to his chest and fiddled with the neck of his fresh t-shirt. She had no trouble admitting he was every kind of adorable - he was her boyfriend, after all, and she’d even thought he was cute long before she’d even figured out her feelings for him - but moments like this, where she got to just sit back and drink in every little detail that made her Marco Marco, crystallized it at the forefront of her mind until she could scarcely focus on anything else. His own hands caught and held hers as they just basked in the familiar tranquility of togetherness alone.

...until, that is, Rafael and Angie barged in from the kitchen with the stew he’d made for them tonight, smirking at the sight in front of them. “You two remind me a lot of us at your age, you know,” Angie cooed, setting the side dishes on the table. Earthni had tragically inherited some of Earth’s farming conditions, leading to a desperate shortage of corn in the winter. The frozen stuff was good, but it could just never be the same. The thought distracted Star enough to break the trance she had still been in before, and she finally separated from Marco and turned her full attention to the meal in front of her. “Well, except for all the breaking up and getting back together.”

Marco choked on the first bite he’d taken. “Wait, you two broke up a lot? Whaaa-”

“Long story, hijo,” Rafael cut him off, waving his hand dismissively. “Anyway, I am so glad to see the two of you fighting all the time! It’s wonderful to watch.”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhh-” Star and Marco stammered out in unison.

“What your father means to say, dear, is that the two of us spied on your little swordfighting session earlier. We even got some pictures! Who would’ve thought our Marco would be like an action movie hero someday?”

“Oh boy,” Marco flatly responded, burying his head in his hands. The rest of the dinner continued on in a silence that felt a bit tense as Angie and Rafael kept giving each other funny looks, as if trying to converse without words, but Star was far too hungry to pay attention to the details while she scarfed down two whole bowls of the old Mewnian stew that Rafael had taken a liking to cooking (albeit with his own flair, which made it far better by Star’s estimation).

Once they were all done, Angie glanced up at her husband inquisitively one final time, and he nodded. She seemed to take that as a cue for something, raising her eyebrows and staring at each of the teens in turn with motherly concern, clasping her hands together on the table. “Star, Marco… we noticed you two have been doing a lot of sparring lately. First, we want to say that we have absolutely no problem with you... sparring. You’re both very mature and responsible people for your age and I trust you can handle yourselves responsibly. But if and when you both decide to get more serious with sparring, make sure you’re properly protected, OK? That’s all we ask.”

“Sure thing, I still have closets full of armor at Eclipsa’s.” Star phrased it almost as a question, not sure what to make of the statement and why they seemed to cautious to talk about it and why she kept pausing on the word “sparring” and why they were still looking at her expectantly oh sweet Mewni you’re such an idiot, Star. She violently coughed, trying desperately not to hack up the meat and vegetables she’d inhaled, upon the realization of the implied meaning of the statement, but Marco seemed unfazed by it as he tried to ease her through the fit. Once they’d all settled down and he made sure Star was feeling OK after her seemingly inexplicable fit, Marco followed Rafael into the kitchen with the first batch of dishes.

Star stood up to follow them in, but Angie held up a hand to block her. “Star, honey… you did get what I was saying, righ-”

“Uh-huh, yep. Totally understood,” she blurted out, desperate not to dig that topic back up. She loved Marco’s parents, but that didn’t make this any easier. Angie’s eyes softened as she patted Star’s arm sympathetically. “Well, I’m not quite sure Marco did. Mind giving us a few minutes with him?”

“Yeah, sure.” She was more than OK with getting out of there as quickly as possible, shuffling upstairs before plopping on their bed and getting out the necessary tools and snack stash for tonight’s planned movie marathon of the new Mackie Hand. Why anyone thought a realistically animated remake of a live action movie was a good idea was beyond her, but it looked so stunningly awful that it was sure to deliver a few good laughs.

But her mind couldn’t put aside the after-dinner conversation for long, even with the warmth brought by the promise of bad movie night laughter, snacks, and cuddles awaiting her, and she unconsciously squirmed with a weird mix of embarrassment and worry despite no one being near. Would he feel the same way she did about this? They were no strangers to physical intimacy, even before they’d sealed the deal with their feelings, and it had certainly been flourishing in recent months. Star was far from shy about expressing physical attraction or affection, but recent events were her first experiences diving below the surface with anyone else. She wanted more of it, more of him. But there was a huge difference between just letting what felt right happen, and talking or even consciously thinking about it, and the latter most definitely wasn’t one of her strong suits.

“Star?” Marco’s voice cracked sheepishly as he peeked into the room. “You still, um, up for the movie?”

“Totally, totally, totally,” she pumped her voice full of enthusiasm to try and forcefully cut through the awkwardness preemptively. “TV’s set up, blanket is cozy, and Sizzlin’ Hot Cornritos are ready for snacking!”

He hopped into bed next to her, high-fiving her. “Tonight’s gonna be perfect.”

It didn’t take long for Star to drift over into his arms, cozying up as was tradition for Thursdates (or most other times, really), but something felt off. Still warm and affectionate, yet not going any further than that as she’d come to expect. Every smile or kiss was still met with one in turn, but his facial features strained slightly, holding back as though she was made of glass. She tried to pawn off her focus onto the movie, but it unfortunately turned out to be bad in the boring-slash-cringey way more than anything, a fact Marco lamented quite vocally at every opportunity, never failing to make Star roll her eyes. He was still her normal Marco in that way, at least.

Once the credits rolled, Star took the mental hype she’d been slowly building for herself during the entire course of the film to conquer her fears and speak up. “Hey Marco? About earlier…”

“Zzzzzzz...”

She suppressed a growl in her throat. It still miffed her that even just trying to talk about going further got stalled out, but she resigned herself to her inability to do anything about it now. In truth, she too was pretty worn out from the long day of training, so after turning off the TV and shoving everything away, she snuggled back under the blanket beside Marco and welcomed a comfy yet frustrated night of rest.

***

Heart, moon. Heart, moon. Heart, moon. The two remaining marshmallows danced in the leftover milk of the cereal bowl after Marco gobbled down a few diamonds and spades. Marco had already wondered whether buying Captain Blanche’s Cleave Crunch was such a great idea when he’d bought it - though some part of him was certainly flattered - but the regret he was feeling over it came from an unexpected place, just a reminder of his current restlessness. He’d felt like an absolute idiot after his mother had to explain what she meant at dinner a few days ago a second time, and he felt even worse that he’d completely avoided the issue with Star after. Maybe he was dense at times, but in hindsight it was obvious Star took the hint the first time, and neither had spoken up about it since. Finally he slurped down the remainder of his midnight snack and wandered back into the corridors of the temple, tired from the long day of dealing with Meteora alone while Star had girls’ night at Janna’s. How was he going to bring it up with Star? Every part of him wanted to talk to her, wanted to tell her how he felt, wanted… wanted more, with her. Too tired to stay awake, too lost in thought to sleep, his wallowing continued as he turned a corner- Bam!

Marco stumbled back after the unexpected collision, picking up the cereal bowl and groaning at the driblets of milk he couldn’t slurp that were now on his hoodie.

“Oh, dear! So sorry, Marco.” Eclipsa, clad in her usual pink pajamas helped steady him on his feet and took the bowl, sending it with Archibald to the kitchen.

“It’s fine, this needed washed anyway. Meteora spit all over it as I was trying to go to put her to sleep. She wasn’t sick or anything, she waited for me to turn my back and crawled out of her crib just to drool on it,” he griped, rubbing his temple.

She put her hand in front of her mouth to laugh, leading Marco out of the entryway and into the much more open dining room. “That’s my little girl. I do hope she wasn’t too much trouble. Deep down I think she’s coming around to you, slowly. Maybe Mariposa is rubbing off on her.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, rubbing his downcast eyes.

“Is everything alright, dear?”

“Can’t sleep… just got a lot on my mind.”

“Would you like to talk about it? I personally find it’s quite helpful to not go to bed with a stray concern, if at all possible.”

He finally glanced up from his shoes, meeting her sympathetic expression only momentarily before studying some nearby floor tiles. “It… might be kind of awkward.” She merely raised an eyebrow inquisitively. A sigh escaped his lips, knowing he probably didn’t have much of a choice - even if she didn’t press, he wouldn’t forgive himself for keeping this bottled inside even an hour longer. “It’s- well, it’s just- um, you see, the thing is… it’s Star awkward.”

“Ah,” she smirked knowingly. She located two of the finer armchairs from the periphery of the room and placed them opposite each other, beckoning Marco to join her. “I can handle awkward, dear. Do tell.”

“You’re sure?”

“I was a teenager in love myself, once upon a time,” she joked, causing the corner of his mouth to reflexively turn up. “It’s not always easy, and- well, let’s just say my mother wasn’t someone I could have easily gone to for my particular troubles. If being a listening ear can help lessen that burden for you, it would be my honor.”

A warmth spread through his chest at the words, ever grateful for the support. Even to this day, he felt a small pang of guilt that at some point he’d been incredibly distrustful of the woman, though he knew she didn’t hold that against him. In the time leading up to the Blood Moon Curse debacle, she’d been a nurturing shoulder to cry on, so he wasn’t sure why he was being so hesitant - perhaps it was just a thought spiral getting to him. “Things with Star are great, it’s not about that, it’s just- it’s been getting… serious, lately.” He stopped fidgeting with his hands and spared her a glance, noting that her body language was still passive and inviting him to continue. “Um… physically serious, I guess. Kind of. Not- not that, yet.”

“It’s not my place to judge, dear. You’re trying to figure things out for yourself, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”

He nodded once quickly, mostly to reassure himself and spur himself onward. “It’s just… new to me. All of it.”

“So Star is the first girl you’ve gotten ‘serious’ with, then?”

The blush that had been steadily growing on his cheeks was burning now, but he soldiered on. “Well, yeah, she is, but it’s more than that. There was this one day at school a few years ago that everyone hated where they talked about puberty- um, basically human Mewberty, without any of the weird bug stuff,” he clarified upon seeing her confusion. “And they said that when it happens, you’ll start to have, uh, sexual feelings, but I never really did. It’s not like I didn’t know what those kind of feelings were or anything. But every crush I had, even with Star, wasn’t about that at all. Holding hands or kissing was nice, but I- I never really felt like I wanted anything more, if that makes sense. That was just normal Marco.”

Once more, his eyes darted upwards to meet hers, looking for some direction. Eclipsa had her hands folded on her lap, nodding along with his words. She took a moment, then clasped her hands together. “Mmmh. So what’s different?”

“The past month or two, it’s all caught up to me, I guess. Everything we do, even regular everyday stuff, just feels so much more intense, and I’ve never felt this way before, and then my mom gave me and Star a talk about it and it-it-it’s just so much all at once a-and I don’t want to screw anything up or hurt her-”

Eclipsa sprung out of the chair, closing the distance and pulling Marco into a warm embrace. “Oh, sweetie.” Marco’s attempts to stifle the incoming sob only made it worse, gasping for breath as the tears that had welled up in his eyes cascaded freely. “Shhh, it’s alright. It’s alright. I’m here, dear.” It was as though a dam had burst, letting loose all the tension and self-doubt he’d been pushing out of mind into the comforting shoulder. Even now, after so many wonderful months with the girl he loved more than anything, he still found a way to bury feelings until they bit him on the behind. Good one, Diaz, he sardonically remarked to himself. Once the waterworks dried up, Eclipsa stood back, pulling them both into a standing position. She wiped the last salty tear off his face with a somber yet calming grin. “You’re a kind, compassionate, and adoring young man, and you mean the entire world to Star. I’m afraid I can’t promise there will never be any hurdles, but I’m confident that you two can solve anything. Love is one of the most magical things in the entire universe; the fact that you're here is living proof, after all.”

“Thanks, Eclipsa. This is- it really means a lot. Thanks. And, um, speaking of love and magic… a few weeks ago, my cheekmarks - only mine - glowed one night while Star and I were, um… ‘getting serious’.” He rubbed the back of his neck as she softly chuckled. Somehow this was part of the conversation living up to the promise of awkwardness the most. “It wasn’t, um, the first time I started feeling like this, but it was definitely the first time it was strong enough to just hit me in the face. Literally,” he unintentionally jested.

Her smile widened immensely, bordering on teasing him. “When I was younger, Glossaryck fancied me more than most of his prior students, which led to the rather unfortunate situation of him striking up casual chats to gossip about queens. Plenty of information I had no desire whatsoever to know, and certainly a fair share of stories no living being needs to hear again, but I did learn that cheekmarks react more readily when emotions are both powerful and novel, so it doesn’t surprise me that yours would glow during such a moment. And as for Star’s…” He mentally flinched as she paused, preparing to answer the question even the darkest corner of his mind hadn’t dared ask.

“Everyone’s own relation to magic was a little bit unique, and you two are already a special case nowadays. Just be honest with her, dear. It’s the best way to sort it out, and all knowledge is good knowledge, you know. Even as a former magical queen, I truthfully can’t give you all the answers and figure out why Star’s hearts might not have reacted.” She hugged him one last time, and he was too dumbfounded to reciprocate before she started walking out of the room. As his mind began to process everything she said, her voice rang out once more from right at the entryway. “I am still a wise old woman with a bit of experience in this area myself, though,” she drawled with a wink and a finger tapping her cheek. “And if I knew anything about you two, I’d bet all the chocolate I own that it’s because Star has those same feelings, but they’re nowhere near new.”

***

“Hello? Anyone home?” Weird. Star strolled up and down the hallways and staircases of the Monster Temple, looking for any signs of life. As far as she knew Eclipsa and Globgor were only supposed to be gone yesterday while she was at Janna’s, and Marco hadn’t indicated he’d left yet even though his babysitting duties were presumably over. Kitchen? Nope. Dining room? Nuh-uh. Foyer? Even Archibald didn’t seem to be around. What the heck was going on?

She finally made her way through the winding route to her room, finding it empty as well and falling spreadeagle onto the bed, smacking the octopus on her dress directly into the silky sheets. Girls’ night had been a blast, but it left her restless. Hanging out with Janna and Ponyhead always threatened to deliver stressful experiences, but surprisingly it wasn’t even about that - she’d have welcomed the usual frustrating shenanigans to divert her mind from things. Unfortunately for her, however, the planets had aligned and put girls’ night at a peak among Pony and Seahorse’s rollercoaster of chronic breakups and public spectacles made out of getting back together, and Pony couldn’t wait to tell the world about every moment of their relationship. While Star was pretty sure no living being deserved to be subjected to the details therein, the forwardness in every part of their relationship still reminded her of the subject she’d been avoiding in her own, and had just left her impatient to get back to figuring out how to broach that topic with Marco.

The thud from her hitting the bed had gotten Marco’s attention from his room in a fresh grey t-shirt and dark jeans, hair ever-so-slightly damp. He took off his headphones and put down his laptop, opening the door. “Star? Is that you?”

“Eep!” Marco’s voice kicked her out of her reverie, causing her to launch off the bed and spring upwards, bouncing once on the mattress and falling back onto it facefirst. “M’ok!” she cried, muffled, into the mattress. He strode over to her bed, helping her up and sitting down next to her, giggling at the antics. Last night’s talk with Eclipsa had clarified a lot for him, but Star’s presence still uniquely made him feel at ease. “Not funny,” she pouted, but she broke composure soon enough as the laughter was too infectious to resist.

“How was the sleepover?” Marco asked as he let himself fall backwards onto the pillow. “Sounded like you were busy when you texted me earlier.”

Star shrugged and turned to face him. “Ponyhead is back with Seahorse.”

His eyes widened in terror. “Did she-” she nodded, causing him to shudder. “Oh no. Her last set of stories about that relationship gave me nightmares for a week. Never thought I could actually feel that bad for a soulless seahorse that’s probably a robot.”

She sighed, partly in agreement and partly at the continual reminders of their own situation needling her brain, and lay across his lap. “Despite everything, I think they somehow make each other happy, so good for them I guess? Anyway, we spent most of this afternoon cleaning up eyeball juice from Janna’s house- don’t ask,” she cut in before he could voice his concerns, “and I stopped a few times on the way here to get cleaned up, eat, and all that junk.” The last few words came out hurried as Star tried to shove the full story out of her mind. “Anyway, where is everyone? This whole place was empty when I got here.”

Marco sat up, his eyebrows furrowing in perplexion. “Wait, Eclipsa isn’t here? We picked fresh corn and had dinner, like, an hour ago, right after you texted me. Globgor’s elotes are amazing, by the way. Year-round corn and Mew-Mex cuisine is the best thing on Earthni.”

“Aww, if I’d have known would have just waited to eat. You wanted them all for yourself, didn’t you, mister?” She lightly punched him in the arm with a teasing smile, to which he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Still, I don’t remember her saying they were leaving or anything. Maybe I should call her-”

“Wait, Marco, look,” she pointed to his door, which had swung partially shut on its own, revealing a note posted to it. She stood up and walked over, reading it aloud after he sat back up to focus fully on her. “Dear Star and Marco, Meteora started teething and ate holes through most of her toys and even took a chunk out of her cradle. Globgor suggested taking her to the forest to chew on some stiff bark and get it out of her system. We’re staying with Moon and River tonight, it’s been far too long since we’ve had a good talk. As always, make yourselves at home. Ta-ta!” She walked back over to the bed. “Guess we have the place to ourselves. Aww, look, Marco! She drew a little cereal bowl here. She knows us so well.”

“Yeah. She does.” Marco choked down the lump that was steadily rising in his throat as he got a good look at the note himself. Eclipsa had left them alone, there was an incredibly exaggerated flair on her signature that underlined the word “talk”, and last night hadn’t even been the first cereal-adjacent conversation he’d had with Eclipsa about Star. The hint wouldn’t have been more obvious if the paper balled up into a fist and decked him on the spot. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. You got this, Marco. Legs curled up into himself, brown hair knotted up in his fingers, and breaths became audible. “Star?” he croaked out. “I- I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Yeah, um, I’ve been thinking too.” She bit her lip in concentration.

Marco fully turned on the bed to face her and she mirrored him. “About what my mom said?” he asked hesitantly. Star nodded tightly, focusing entirely on the rich brown pools shining into her own. She wanted to clear the air, no matter how awkward it might be, and the calming energy radiating from his own pushed her through. “Ugh, I feel so stupid for not bringing it up earlier-”

She clutched one of his hands sympathetically; now was not the time for him to get into one of these moods. “Marco, it’s not your fault! I didn’t either, and besides, it was only a few days ag-”

“No, it wasn’t.” His eyes closed, trying to achieve some sort of zen as the words shuffled themselves around in his mind, but the twitching of his free hand gave away his nervousness. “It- it wasn’t just a few days ago. That night, with my cheekmarks… it was the first time I’d felt something really strong, for you, thaaaat way…”

“Sexually.” Star completed the sentence calmly, clearing her mind and giving him space to talk. Marco nodded, but a split second later his eyes widened in realization of how she might be taking it.

“No- well, yes, b-but… what I mean is, ugh, I- it’s a me thing. Not you,” he stammered. “These types of feelings… it’s all new to me. Whenever I liked someone, I always just thought they were cool or pretty or adorable. Or all three,” he smirked, squeezing her hand. The last thing he wanted was for Star to think he had anything less than the utmost affection for her. “But I guess the more physical stuff just never clicked for me. I- I never really felt that way about anyone before, a-and I really enjoy it but it just freaked me out and I-I didn’t want it to be in the way-”

She planted her lips on his, initially meant to just be a peck, but lingered momentarily before pulling away. It always seemed to be this song and dance between them, putting their concern for the other over their own, but she was determined not to let him sink into that mire again. “Marco… it’s OK to feel that way about me, I want you to. I feel the same about you.”

Both his hands tentatively took hold of hers. “Do you want to… go further?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I- it’s all still new to me, I haven’t done anything like this before, but I really do, Star.”

“Same. Let’s just go with the flow and see what happens. No pressure.”

“No pressure,” he repeated softly, heart doing backflips in his chest. Star tugged him forward, pecking him gently as their night began.

***

“Is this weird?” she said many minutes later, pausing to appreciate their current situation before they crossed the final threshold together.

“Maybe a little,” he responded, leaning forward and kissing her sweetly. “But I love it.”

The strings of tension in her body all thrummed with warmth as the remaining jitters started to melt away. “I love you, Marco.” It was a refrain uttered casually between them these days - though they certainly meant it each time - but now it felt as though her entire body poured every emotion she had into that one expression.

“Love you too, Star,” he responded much the same before they closed the gap together, lips performing an intimate dance moving as one. The rest of their bodies followed suit and collided confidently, the mix of wild lust and bashful hesitance giving way to something new. A soft light became visible through their closed eyelids, and they separated, eyes widening at the sight. Two hearts and two moons emitting a pink glow in unison. They brightly grinned at each other, tracing the outlines of the marks on each others’ cheeks with their fingers, fully embracing the essential truth of their unbridled devotion to one another in mind, body, and soul, ready to follow their passion to its finality.

***

“So… that was something,” he uttered.

“Sure was,” she fondly smiled at her love, the sunken eyebrows and heavy lids framing his gaze emanating an aura laden with tender love. “This is nice. So what now?”

A rumbling in his stomach answered the question for him “...I’m kind of hungry already.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’ll make nachos and you find a movie?”

“You know me too well, Mr. Diaz,” she sighed, holding him tighter. “But, um, we should probably get cleaned up.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “It’s kind of cold. And sweaty. Maybe we should stay in my room tonight.”

“Guess naked cuddles aren’t always all they’re cracked up to be. A shower sounds really good right now,” she tittered, committing one last snapshot to memory before standing up on the floor and stretching her tired limbs. A hand intertwined itself with hers, stopping her from walking away.

“Mind if I join you? J-Just to shower…” he floundered, but she understood. Neither were up for continuing, but they still didn’t want this newfound intimacy to end.

Nothing more was said as the pair went hand-in-hand, wholly alone together. The bedroom light was the sole beacon lighting up the Monster Temple’s mountain, a pinprick glow joining the shining stars in the Earthni heavens above.

[createdbybadhands]

My story

So, here goes. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing but, for some reason, this morning when I woke up I felt the need to anonymously share what my story is. I don’t tend to talk about the experience I have had or how it’s led me to what I’m currently doing, because I don’t know how people will react. 

So maybe I should drop the whole I’m mentally ill bomb. 

I’m mentally ill.

There it’s dropped. 

This post will feature details of peri-natal mental health.

So on December 14th 2018 I found out that I was pregnant. My then fiance, now husband, was recovering from a back operation and that moment of showing him the pee stick, with joyful tears streaming down my face, he awkwardly pulled himself from the chair and slowly made his way to me so that we could share a hug in the moment. 

Sadly my pregnancy was awful, the above is probably the happiest moment that would resemble a hallmark gift card we had. Before you get pregnant, you imagine it will be this amazing, I feel so special, experience. The pressure to be constantly giddy was extreme. Obviously, I knew about the not so nice parts, morning sickness, the need pee...constantly and suddenly hating what was my favourite foods and drinks. 

Also, the coffee withdrawal was real. 

But I didn’t know that you could be depressed and so anxious that you can’t leave the house alone. 

It crept up on me, week by week the feelings got heavier, the anxiety took over. I stopped driving because I was so scared that I would crash, or how and where do I park? (the works car park was insane at this time). As March came up, my husband realised that I wasn’t myself. I couldn’t go to uni anymore (I was doing a masters in design), especially if I knew friends was working from home. I used to get the train to Bristol to go to uni, but it became this metal beast that induced heart palpitations and just the thought of boarding it. My husband encouraged me to seek help. Thankfully, my appointment was with the best GP I have ever met, he was kind, understanding and listened without judgement. He explained that hormones really can mess you up and signed me off work. 

All this seemed temporary, but, blimey, it most certainly wasn’t. As time went by I got iller, I went onto anti-depressants and went to counselling, but I wasn’t making progress.  My midwife, an amazing woman who went above and beyond for me, she referred me onto mental health services, which eventually meant I was taking on by the perinatal mental health team. And I was so fortunate to have this support. I was also going to classes for expectant mums who may be struggling in some way, they were also so amazing, I can’t tell you how amazing they really were. I was suddenly surrounded by people who understood that little bit more. My friends, they tried, and some were brilliant, but others stuck their foot in it, accidentally, but still... awkward. I couldn’t handle the comparisons from what I was going through to what they thought I was going through. Being told I was just stressed because I took too much on, some how blaming me for the failings of the hormones in my body. Like I chose to be ill. 

As time went on I differed my final year at uni, I wasn’t able to do the work. I tried to go back to work, but couldn’t. I also had a wedding to plan (just to clarify, not a shotgun wedding we booked the date way before I found out I was pregnant) but my husband had to take on a lot of the wedding planning, bless him, he took on a lot.

So fast forwarding a bit, this time was a lot of crying, sitting and eating, it wasn’t a pretty sight. I tried to prep for baby coming, but every time we went to buy something I had a panic attack, even just looking at clothes, because it had to be perfect, I had to be perfect but didn’t know how to be. 

I should quickly clarify, a lot of my thoughts weren’t about not wanting a baby, it was about me not being good enough for her and she’d be better off if I wasn’t here. 

So a little more fast forwarding, despite having such amazing support, my mental health deteriorated further and at 35 weeks pregnant I voluntarily went into a Mother and Baby Unit (MBU). 

For those who don’t know, MBU’s are mental health wards for mothers who are suffering from perinatal mental health illness. At the time, I was talked into going, because I didn’t want to be away from my husband. The closest MBU is still an hours drive away in a different town. 

I didn’t think I would be there long, maybe a couple of weeks. I was very wrong. I found out that the average stay is 6 weeks (I was actually there for 3 months), this meant I would have my baby there, which I hated the idea of. 

Again, the people who worked with me were so brilliant and so caring. They saved my life. I am fortunate to have met them all (even the one person who worked there that wound me up, and had very poor tv choice ha). It’s strange looking back at the MBU. I have a fondness for the staff, but a hatred for having to be there. It’s odd. You felt constantly watched, because you was. I had my own room but they would come look through a little window to make sure your ok, every hour, even through the night. It’s bizarre how used to it you become. You also had baby monitors in your room, in case you needed help with the baby, but it also felt weird to know I could be heard (I could switch it off when with visitors or on the phone, they weren’t that nosey). 

Last night I had the weirdest feeling, I was in bed in the dark, alone and suddenly I felt like I was there again, like they were going to look through the window and I should hide that I was awake because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes when you saw the torch shine through so they could look at you I would hide my phone or what ever I was doing, not because I was doing anything wrong but because I didn’t want to talk about why I was still awake, even with sleeping tablets. 

Oh my this post has got long, fair play if you’re still reading. 

So what this long rambling is saying is that, my motherhood journey so far hasn’t been your usual run of the mill. After leaving hospital I received my diagnosis, one of them was post-natal psychosis. They never explained this diagnosis to me, I didn’t know about it until this letter was sent, so I have no idea what part of me was that, presumably the belief that my daughter hated me and I shouldn’t be here. I was also diagnosed with severe reoccurring depression and anxiety, fun right? 

Now this get to the creative stuff, so before all of the above happened I was studying a masters in design, my practice was a little uncertain. I very much worked with 3D printing, electronics and coding. I just hadn’t nailed the direction I wanted to go in. I also lacked some finalisation in my work. During my last year I was doing a really fun project with automation and character, making ways to interact with your surroundings (such as a light switch) by remote and a character, e.g. an astronaut, would complete it. 

The idea was to turn any room into a smart room in a temporary, cost effective way. 

Things have changed since then, a side to me no one knew existed was awakened. When I was in the MBU I was taught how to crochet, now everyone was surprised I took this on. I never had any inclination to do this before, but I loved it. I made a Yoda, who doesn’t love a Yoda. Everyone said I picked it up really quickly and how good I was doing. I didn’t actually enjoy the other craft activities much because I had a sense of perfection that I couldn’t escape, but because crochet was new I could let go of this perfectionism. 

I have carried on with this thought process into other crafts, I went to (pre lockdown) some workshops for mums with mental health trouble and learnt some more crafts. The biggest shocker was sewing, just ask my mum I have always HATED sewing, now I love it. I have learnt how to do embroidery and making my daughter a quilt. It’s freeing. And now I feel like a better designer because I allow myself to fail, which has always been my problem and held me back. I always wanted to acheive the best straight off the bat, it’s nice to let go of that. 

This blog is going to be me being brutally honest, I’ve been through a lot and want a platform to be honest. I know no one is really going to read it but hey ho. It’s also going to be my creative journey. 

Also, no one talks about MBUs and mental health during pregnancy. The only thing I had seen about it was an awful episode of the good doctor where a mother took medication for her mental health to then have a sickly child, of which the blame is placed on her for taking the meds. That’s not the whole episode, there is some other interjections in there but that’s what I saw, whilst being pregnant taking medication, a tad unhelpful.  

Don’t worry this post is coming to an end, mainly as my baby has woken from her nap, so for today toodles. 

[pepplemint]

Fanfic Recc:s

I had this since a long time back actually, I think. I figured I might as well post it and give ya’ll something lol.

  —————————-——————-———GEN——————————-——————-———-

Room with a View by isabeau25 (10,089 words): Lance manages to carve out a space for himself in a hidden part of the castle. The rest of the team find their way there eventually. ———- This was one of those fics I didn’t really expect to get as into as I did. Is really sweet and focus on the original team as a family. You know how you sometimes see art where everyone in a giant cuddlepile and it’s just too sweet and everyone is so comfortable with each other? This have got the same feeling, plus some Langst

————————————————-  Accepting Amelioration by XILVerify (4887 words): Shiro trusts his team with his life, but after what he and his daemon experienced at the hands of the Galra… well, trusting them with his soul is the one thing he just can’t bring himself to do. Or so he thinks. Daemon AU. Post season 1 speculation.  ———- Shiro and Hunk is a pair that have gotten very little bonding time in canon, so seeing them together here put in a situation where they are trapped in a distressing urgent situation is both interesting and engaging. I don’t know much about His Dark Materials or daemons to be honest but it’s explained well enough within the fic and I enjoy these representations very much. WARNING: Mentioned previous-to-fic assault

————————————————- The Purity of Sin by IcyPanther (105,002 words): Lance's first diplomatic mission had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Instead of allies on planet Macka, he and Keith found only enemies who want to sacrifice them to their Goddess. The two Paladins are going to have to work together to survive the harsh desert, severe injury, relentless pursuit, with the added problem that in addition to losing copious amounts of blood, Lance is losing his senses one... by one... by one... ———- I’m sure most people have heard of this fic already but god damn it is INTENSE. You will feel stuff. I am terrible at keeping attention and tend to stay away a bit from longer fics but I couldn’t stop reading. WARNING: Explicit violence, religious rituals, character death

————————————————- Bury the Sun by maychorian (26,734 words): Sam Holt has been a captive of the Galra for more than a year. He has lost all hope of escape or rescue. But when a new prisoner arrives in his underground cell, a boy who seems to carry the sun in his smile, everything begins to change. ———-    An unexpected pair as Pidge’s dad kinda takes Lance too under his wings. This is really sweet at the same time as you can never forget the terrible situation they are really in. WARNING: Violence and mentions of torture

————————————————- I'll Be Your Journal by BreakTheDawn (5756 words): “Lance,” Hunk had pleaded. “I can’t believe you just did that to me,” Lance covered his face as his breaths started to become heavy and uneven. Looking back, Hunk doesn’t know how he knew, but he did. He knew at that point that if he didn’t fix that. Didn’t fix Lance. Then he would lose him. Hunk could not let that happen

....

Or, that one time that Hunk crossed the line. ———-  I just love Hunk and I love seeing his perspective. Also Hunk and Lance friendship... There’s too little of it in the world honestly.

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The Cost of Winning by IcyPanther (9596 words): "The Blue and Green Paladins serve no purpose to the Empire," the Galran commander smirked at his bound captives. "And as such you have no use except as arena fodder." He chuckled. "Give us a good show before you die." / Lance is determined to protect Pidge and save her from the arena. She will not die here. Over his dead body. Hopefully it's not quite that literal of a promise. ———- I’m starting to see a pattern here uuuh anyway I love this fic, I love Pidge and Lance working together. WARNING: Violence, Character Death

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A Little Unsteady (Hold Onto Me) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (13,385 words): Takashi Shirogane is nine years old when he holds his brother for the first time. “I’m here,” he’d whispered to his fussing baby brother, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”  And Keith stopped crying. He didn’t laugh; he looked up at Shiro with big, skeptical eyes. A challenge. Like this tiny person was saying ‘oh yeah, prove it’. And Shiro, newly nine years old, promised that he’d prove it.Shiro and Keith's childhood in moments. ———- There’s a lot of Keith’s background story here that I fell really strongly for (though not canon compliant, I just like it.). If you’ve ever had that kind of relationship where you are like an older sibling figure, you can really feel this in your bones. WARNING: Child Abuse

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Leave Them Stunned and Stuttering by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) (10,527 words): Five Times Shiro couldn't be knocked off balance, one time he was, and one time he trusted the team to see. Or, when sibling bonding goes wrong. ———- A little bit Everyone/Shiro. It’s fun to see the team all bond over trying to mess with Shiro.

———————————————— Fatalistic Daydream by Engineer104 (27,873 words):  Being a low-ranking Galra soldier stationed in a virtual backwater isn’t stopping Pidge from finding out what happened to her family. But the secrets she’s keeping from her friend Keith on top of the unwanted attention of an Altean prisoner-of-war are definitely...slowing her down. ———- Interesting AU where the Galra and Alteans are actively at war. Technically this is tagged as Pidge/Lance but there isn’t anything actually romantic so I feel it fits the gen category.

——————-——————-——-—--—--SHANCE———————————-——————-—-

Racing on the Thunder by Jennypen (5435 words): Freshman Shiro is pretty hung up on Senior Lance at the Garrison, but no-one else shares his opinion. At least, not until a hostage situation changes everything. ———-   I love this!! Baby Cadet Shiro (who are not so baby-looking) pining after the older Cadet Lance, and Lance is a BAMF.

————————————————- Closer to Your World by CastleSL (29,576 words): Students will be carefully selected and tested for the opportunity to fly out to Kerberos for scientific research. Only one student may be selected. Application and Testing will commence during the third trimester, June 21XX. There was more on the page, statistics and requirements and more details, but it was legit. The flyer was printed on standard Garrison announcement paper, the document signed by the Dean and board of directors. The chance to go to Kerberos. Hunk took a moment to think, then clapped his hand on Lance’s back, smiling. “Well, I’m rooting for ya, buddy.” He said, and Lance beamed like that was all he needed in the world. ———-   It’s been a while since I read this fic but it’s nice with a lil longer Shance fic - it’s also really well written. A sequel is also being written right now that is also good. WARNING: Mentioned character death

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Full Moons and the Mornings After by Impetus (6496 words): Shiro is an unlucky werewolf who can’t control himself during the full moon. Lance really needs to stop letting stray wolves into his apartment. ———-   This is like my favourite werewolf fic ever hahahaha. I love when werewolves are portrayed as big dumb dogs. It’s really cute and they’re both big pining messes.

————————————————-  Jaded by Impetus (8728 words): Shiro is the leader of Voltron. He is the strength and the calm in the face of the thundering storm of the Galra. Lance is someone Shiro doesn't quite understand. Shiro is someone Lance wants to understand with all of his heart. ———-   WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- The Luxury of Lacking Confidence by oldmythologies (13,695 words): They knew how it worked; Lance was always the damsel in distress and Shiro was the big strong hero who came to save him. When Shiro’s lion is hit by a vicious attack, he is knocked off course and careens into an ice planet. Lance finally elects himself the hero and has to save Shiro from his own injuries and the Galra ships searching the planet. Shiro, feverish and low on blood, is forced to confront his demons; Lance has to learn how to fight them off. ———-    WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- Tris for Guys by quiddative  (2907 words): It was all Keith’s fault—him and his stupid biceps showing up at intramural basketball two nights ago without his trademark cropped jacket (which was almost as outdated as his mullet) and making everyone swoon. And what was worse, even Shiro, their hotter-than-hell yet sweeter-than-sugar RA and current object of Lance’s helpless affections, seemed impressed. He actually went up to Keith after his team had pummeled everyone else into the ground, clapped him on the back, and uttered the words that Lance had been daydreaming about for approximately fifteen thousand years: “Great job, buddy!” So, as soon as he got back to his room that night, he logged into his student account and signed up for the first available complimentary personal training session the college’s gym offered. ———- The story of how Lance thirsts so hard he even makes the ultimate sacrifice and goes to the gym. Lance’s “voice” here is great.

————————————————-  Slowly, Surely by needchocolatenow (2997 words): Shiro is tasked with an assignment to deliver important cargo to Altea. Lance is his second. -- Or, the fic in which Shiro and Lance take a road trip through space in an unfortunately named shuttle. ———- Just a really cute story where humans have moved into space and Shiro pines and is as awkward as a kid with his first crush.

————————————————-  ordinary people are everywhere by lein (5625 words): The note, situated in the bottom right corner, reads simply: ‘Will you be my Valentine? Yes or yes.’ Surrounded by little hearts and unaddressed, it seems a little out of place nestled next to the carefully crafted drawings of both pigeon lance and the deviantart stamp Pidge sent to Keith that made him cry for upwards of an hour before he had wordlessly crawled atop the table to recreate it as closely as he could. Shiro grins as he picks up a black dry erase marker and circles a yes. ———- This fic is so underrated! It’s super cute and I fell in love already at the summary, but the fic in itself is really well written and nice.

————————————————- Lance's Guide on How to Embarrass Yourself in Front of Your Insurance Adjuster by Eilera (2035 words): “This is for my mama, Hunk. She was so worried about this whole thing. They just finished renovating. I’m not gonna let her down. If my name isn’t Lance fucking Hernandez Martine-holy fuck he’s gorgeous.” “Oh no. No. Lance do-“ Lance didn’t even hear him because there was a fucking gorgeous god walking up the path to the front door.

(In which Lance is helping his mama with an insurance claim and he was not prepared for the smoking hot insurance adjuster.)

———- Lance is Lance and this was funny and cute.

————————————————-  Left Side Or Right? by liddie (2698 words): When Lance accidentally locks himself out of his dorm room he finds himself on Shiro's doorstep hoping that this falls under Shiro's offer of  "Let me know if you need help with anything."

Luckily for him, it does. ———- Piiiining I love it...... I really do

————————————————-  Lactose IntolerLance by humblenoodle (1807 words): Shiro's aware, at least, that his current course of action is humiliatingly stupid, and he should really stop while he's still ahead.

But it’s not like he could just casually waltz up there and ask for Lance’s number, maybe even a date. That’s not how this worked. ———- 

This was really funny and cute, pining Shiro at his most awkward.

————————————————- Define Dancing by starbear (5495 words): “Dancing?” Shiro made a small, scoffing little laugh. “You’re kidding, right? “What? No,” Lance said, “Why?” “I can’t dance.” “Lies.” “No, I’m serious,” Shiro said, “Two left feet. I’m terrible.” “That I absolutely do not believe. I bet you’ve just never really tried.” Lance stood, abruptly, an unsettlingly determined look on his face. “C’mon, let’s do it.” “Do...what?” “Dance, duh,” Lance said. “Let’s go.”

Shiro learns how to dance, and falls in love along the way. ———-  I tend to like fics that are snippets through time, but this one stand out :)

————————————————- Ten Days by WashiPuppy (??? words): Most people never got to learn exactly what their mind is worth, how resistant it is. Lance knew now, and the answer was ten days. It only took ten days for something in him to break that he wasn't sure he could get back.

Shiro had survived a year and come out as someone still able to smile, to be kind and gentle with those around him. Scarred, but not shattered.

Lance wore no new scars. But he still hadn't made it ten days.

———- So you like slow burn? Well what about the characters doesn’t even interact for three thirds of the fic lmao. Honestly though this fic is really good and well written! The focus isn’t on romance at all and I even forgot about it a couple of times, but none the less it’s 100% worth the read.

————————————————-  Black to Blue by PuppetMaster55 (153,825 words): Lance, the undisputed (no longer, since he finally got the team to stop questioning his position like a month ago) leader of Voltron finds himself in the absolute strangest scenario: being the Blue Paladin.

Lance, still finding his place on team Voltron, wakes up to the weirdest world: one where he's the Black Paladin.

OR, I take a universe where Lance was always the Black Paladin and have him swap bodies with canon Lance, throwing both sets of teams for a trip.

———- I mean I assume most people have already read this fic but just in case someone missed it? Read it. This is the Lance as Black Paladin au you always wanted.

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Breaking Wind by AshesTheTerrible (10,044 words): Shiro is settling into his new body and finally trusting himself to rekindle things with Lance. Intimacy proves to be a lot of stumbling after such a long time without. And nobody is safe from awkward bodily functions during sex, not even Shiro. ———- Like the mature dumbass I am I love this fic about farting. It’s really well written and have such a good, soft relationship though it’s worth it ok.  WARNING: Explicit

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ticket to ride by mettaverse (2085 words): The officer raises his hand. “You were going thirty miles over the speed limit for a date?” Lance opens his mouth and the officer lowers his sunglasses just to glare at him. “Sixty in a thirty lane. You know how fast that is?” “Um. Fast? Pretty fast?” “Dangerously fast.” He pulls a pad of paper out of his pocket. “I'm gonna have to give you a ticket.” ———-  Short AU-fic that I just find really cute

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How to Dig Your Own Grave by flyingisland (8804 words): The complete anthology, written from first-hand experiences and mortifying, soul-crushing interactions between Lance McClain and one very attractive neighbor. ———- This fic is kinda wonderful. Lance mess up so bad over and over and it’s hilarious. It’s all fine though in the end ;)  WARNING: Explicit, Sex Work (Pornography)

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easier to lose by quiddative (???? words): Shiro is at the peak of his NHL career. Unfortunately, being famous has its downsides, particularly when it comes to dating. And that’s on top of the fact that he’s still in the closet.

However, a chance meeting with college student Lance, who seems to be the only person in the entire city who doesn’t know who he is, gives him hope that maybe he won’t die alone after all. Just as long as he can keep his identity a secret. ———- This fic isn’t actually finished when I add it here, but I expect it to be soon. I kinda love sport-AU’s not gonna lie. This one hit me right in the weak spot.

———————-——————-—-—--—--KLANCE————————-——————-————-

Five Minutes by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot (4176 words): When Keith is unwillingly tricked into a speed dating session by Shiro, he finds himself meeting several unusual characters. The most unusual of all, however, is the loud one in the letterman jacket. He's obnoxious and has no regard for the other people around him and he keeps making his way closer and closer to Keith within the ring rotations. Can Keith pull himself together to get through this meeting? Or will he find himself interested by the end of their five minutes? ———-   I like Keith being stubbornly set on being bitter and hating things he’s dragged into lol. Even when he kinda really doesn’t.

————————————————- gladly break my heart (for you) by godsensei (1747 words): “You want me to... touch you?” Lance asks, a mildly dubious look on his face. Keith feels his face go hot. “Yes! You touch everyone else. I just-- we’re boyfriends, right?” he asks, feeling stupid, but so hopeful. Lance searches his face for a moment, before his eyes soften, a sweet smile blooming on his lips. ———-   This is just fluff and touch starved Keith and I’m all for it. ————————————————- i want your heaven and your oceans too by mothpoem (11,610 words): “Not—not that you’d be my rebound! I mean, you’d be helping me take my mind off of this guy, but to be a rebound, I’d have to have dated him first, I think, and he doesn’t even know I like him, so. You wouldn’t be a rebound. At worst, we become badass partners-in-crime with a grudging respect for each other, at best, we’re soulmates for life and this is fate trying to help us find happiness. So. Um.” Lance swallows and looks up at the Blade of Marmora soldier through his lashes. “What say you?” They look down at their hands for a moment, fingers twisting together in deep thought. Then they’re pulling their gloves off, revealing pale, half-bruised knuckles of the human variation, and their mask is dissolving, giving way to big blue-purple eyes and an achingly familiar jet-black cowlick. “Who,” says Keith Kogane, in that low-pitched rumble that makes Lance’s stomach roil in the good way—holy fuck—“is this guy you’re trying to get over?” ———-   I drew a scene from this fic so I guess in a way I’ve already recc:d it, but I’m gonna do it again. I love awkward misunderstandings and Lance’s rambling in this fic is both kinda hilariously in character and well written. WARNING: Canon-typical violence ————————————————- Keith's Type by AmbitiousSkychild (24,050 words): “How would anyone notice what anyone else’s type is in the middle of all this?!” Matt demanded, laughing. “What’s Keith’s type?” Lance blurted out like an idiot. “It’s… obvious,” Pidge said. “He gets all flustered over shitty puns and most physical comedy. And have you seen the way he stares at Hunk when he’s going on about the mechanics of something? Like how the lions work? I’ve literally seen him blushing when Hunk goes into explanation mode.” “So, you think he has a crush on Hunk?” Lance squawked. “No. You bonehead,” Pidge laughed. “I’m saying any dad-joke-telling, klutzoid with good grades has probably got a pretty good shot at Keith.” Or: It figures that after years of getting it hilariously wrong face-to-face, Lance finally gets good at talking to Keith through a screen, which is, like, one of his biggest accomplishments. Then, Pidge makes the comment that Keith has a type, while heavily implying that it's Matt. But, listen, with everything going on with Voltron, the coalition, the Blade of Marmora, and Coran, Lance isn't going to get distracted worrying about it. Ask anyone, he's always been great with measuring levels of importance.... ———-   I kinda have a weakness for the emotional jealousy, the one that isn’t angry and hot but insecure and hits where it hurts. And yeah. Matt and Keith have (kind of?) a past together and Lance is alone-ish after Keith left the team. ————————————————- King and Reaper by PastelClark (35,512 words): Allura had told them once that Voltron was their destiny. If anything, Keith thinks, Lance had proven that while finding the lions might have been on the dime of some greater plan, compliance to their supposed fate was not strictly required in any remote sense of the word. In fact, by Lance's standard of doing things it was all rather bullshit. (Or: The story of the destruction of Earth and its aftermath, feat. questionable science in regards to weapons of mass destruction, gratuitous Star Wars references, theoretical chess games with the emperor of most of the known universe, explosions, the greatest bromance of all time, the worst romance of all time, far too many guns, concussions, extreme misuse of the French language, awkward flirting, and Lance in an overly-dramatic trench coat.) ———-   BAMF rebel leader Lance and mental images that kinda kick you in the inspiration, honestly. Everyone is older and different. Voltron kinda failed.

————————————————- Keith the Amnesiac by jilliancares (8878 words): In which an accident leaves Keith temporarily without his Voltron-filled memories and he may or may not spill a few of his better kept secrets to Lance. ———-   This story is great if nothing else because it feels so realistic in how it handled Keith’s amnesia. This is very much just what it’s like to have those small differences in how you perceive the world vs how you normally do.

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Let's be (dis)honest by noero (1581 words): Lance is backed against his bathroom wall, one hand gripping his sink and the other nervously combing through his hair. Keith is in front of him — down on his knees — calling Lance’s bluff.  ———-   Nothing really to say about this other than I liked the competitiveness between Keith and Lance and it was fun. WARNING: EXPLICIT

——-—--—--——————-——————-OTHERS——————-——————-——————-

Sun In Our Eyes by MatchaMochi (9349 words): “Think you can beat me hotshot?” He doesn’t falter, just nods and holds up his sniper. His hands don’t shake, his lips don’t tremble, (his heart though, that wild erratic thing stuttering in his chest, makes the blood rush to his ears, makes him think: Oh god.) ///

In which Kinkade pines and Lance has too many feelings. ———- 

So this is THE Kinkance fic, but just in case someone didn’t read it yet - I’m gonna add it here. (RYAN/LANCE)

———————————————— i'm willing to wait for it, i'm willing to wait for you by ThePackWantstheD (10,338 words): Lance McClain is hard to hate. He’s easy to love. Or: James Griffin falls fast and hard for a charismatic cargo pilot, dates him for six months, and then waits for him for five years.

———-

This ship isn’t something I ever considered until this fic, but heck it got me on board. I like everyone’s reactions and James’ belief. (JAMES/LANCE)

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no need to say goodbye by smolsarcasticraspberry  (13,557 words): The juniberry tree blossoms every seven years, and when it does, a gateway opens up to another world - a world that Shiro first explores as a child. There, he meets Allura. They do not speak the same language, but children do not need words to play. Every seven years, when the gateway opens again, Shiro steps through to visit the girl he knows on the other side. But the gateway only stays open as long as the juniberry flowers bloom... 

———- This is one of those stories that are simply wonderful, even if you’ve never seen the original show because it build up such a cool new world in the relatively few words. It also deals with Shiro in the aftermath of war and pining. (SHALLURA)

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Drip Like Honey by avoidingavoidance (7171 words): In which Romelle recommends a hot Tumblr boy to Allura, but when she checks him and his stream out, she finds that he seems awfully familiar.

———- Obviously this is right up my alley. Da-mn. Allura is top as heck. WARNING: Explicit (SHALLURA)

———————————————— Frostbite by Rueitae (6109 words):  Pidge is a renowned super villain. Lance is a hero in training. During their latest encounter, Lance pushes his powers to their limit and Pidge has some soul searching to do.

———-  I doooo love superhero AU’s and this is both super sweet, funny, well written and paints a clear picture of the universe which we are thrown into. I like it a lot. (PLANCE)