#fic idea as well lol

[numbuh424]

Day 6 & 7 of @dnrarepairweek | Prompts: PROXIMITY & JUDGEMENT

We interrupt this showdown to bring you an intervention ft. Near and Light who have a serious discussion about where their colleagues' priorities lie.

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 4/?

Hopefully the dialog isn't confusing.

______________________________

"Still dizzy?" 

"Not really," Jazz answered with a comfortable smile, though stole a quick glance over to the gate. The first since Blaster had arrived for the morning routine. The other mer wasn't awake yet last he saw, but he was shifting more. The medication had obviously long worn off by now, but Jazz still hoped they weren't in too much pain. 

But Blaster noticed and it prompted him to pause his checks to ask, "did he wake up last night?" 

"Kinda? He could have been talking in his sleep though." 

"Hm, there's a good chance he'll be up soon, then." 

Jazz's expression of his usual cheerfulness shifted, just slightly and if it had been anyone other than Blaster, they would have missed it. He flipped the clipboard over in his lap and rested his elbows against his crossed legs. 

"You're nervous," Blaster pointed out gently and gave Jazz an encouraging smile. "Is this about their injuries, or is this about making a friend?" 

The mer's face soured and he looked away. "I thought I wasn't supposed to ask." 

"That was about the gate, and I'm sorry about that." It was just the two of them on the pier, but Blaster still practised a surveying sweep of the area with what looked like stretching. Then with a lower voice, he continued, "The Vet Chief wanted to fully isolate them from you, to keep them in a transfer-crate, at least until the injuries had a low risk of reopening. I argued that it would put them under a lot of undue stress, and you because you knew the Mer was here. Which is part of why it took so long for–" 

"–and it's fine to say this now?" Jazz snapped and turned back to him with a small scowl. 

"Jazz, how many staff members were in your area yesterday? When we talked about the gate?" 

He paused, trying to recall. Blaster was with him and the group that went into the bay had five… seven? 

"There was thirteen, Jazz," he supplied, knowing that any answer coming would be incorrect. It was a lot of people, and with Blaster already known for making waves on the regular, the sudden addition had eyes and ears on him. That, and because he had fought so hard against the 'great idea' brought up in the first meeting after emergency treatment had ended. "You didn't even clock the vet on standby at the pier entrance." 

Jazz huffed and laid out flat, resting his chin on his crossed arms. Okay, so he wasn’t paying attention to who was around. "Then what is it about the gate? I get the bit about climbing the walls, but…" 

"That one is on me, I was – am – being overly cautious. Not of you, but of others misunderstanding your excitement or anxiety as aggression. And I know how persistent you can be when something catches your interest. But that's not the point, what is, is that if the team reports you showing signs of aggression, they'll… remove him." 

Now looking worried, Jazz glanced from Blaster to the gate. "But what if he shows aggression?" 

"We're expecting that, at least at first." Blaster wanted to reassure him, but there were still too many unknown variables. "Unknown place with an unfamiliar face, and likely limited communication. There is bound to be backlash." 

Jazz looked down with an expression of growing despair, before dropping his face against his arms. His words muffled, "so whether he stays or not depends on me being able to talk with him." 

Blaster reached out and placed his hand on the orca's shoulder. "Listen, buddy, this might be hard to hear. But let me explain, okay? … So far it looks like there are no issues and the current plan is to have him released once he recovers." As he feels Jazz tense, Blaster frowns in understanding and begins to rub his shoulder to comfort him. "There is only one reason that the aquarium wouldn't go through with it, and honestly, I don't want that to happen. It's all sorts of fucked up and would only make things worse– but I don't want you to distance yourself from him. I want you to try and befriend him." 

"… why," Jazz asked weakly, cursing him for telling him the truth – for reminding him of the truth – for breaking his small piece of hope of not being alone anymore. If he was going to be taken away, if he was just going to lose him no matter what, then it would hurt less if he just ignored him. 

All sorts of answers bounce around in Blaster's mind. From wishful thinking – because I want you to go with him. To long term goals – anything we could learn could help Mers everywhere. But he settled on as close to the truth as he could. "Because I'm trying to make sure that no matter what happens, it's the best result for both of you. But I can't do that if the two of you can't at least work together. So, I'm asking you to try." 

"Right," because he doesn't need to be kept here to survive… he just needs time to heal. Where I – "–right. Okay, I'll try… but where do I even start?" Jazz took a deep breath to compose himself before he lifted his head. 

"Well, why don't we see if sleepy-head is waking up? Maybe he'd like breakfast." Blaster offered, first with a reassuring smile, but then twisted it into something more mischievous. "And maybe you could find out if he's got a beautiful name, too." 

It took a second to realize what Blaster was getting at, and for the first time in his life Jazz felt bashful. "W-what are you talking about?" He hid it terribly. 

"He's beautiful~" he whispered dramatically, and Blaster learned that mers could in fact blush. 

— 

When Blaster left to get food for the wild mer, Jazz calmly made his way over to the view port. Only to be taken by surprise, he was looking directly at Jazz. Though, glaring, might be more accurate with how his face was pulled tight with focus and the sheer intensity of his stare. 

But otherwise, they were completely calm. Jazz wasn't sure if that was a good sign or bad. Yet, it didn't stop his nervous excitement from returning. He waved with one of his best smiles – one without teeth – and greeted him with a friendly, "hello!" 

What he got in return was a slightly more intense furrowing of their brow – irritation or confusion? 

"Oh! Sorry, habit." Jazz switched to mer. {Hi!} 

The tension didn't leave his face, but there was slight movement and, again, Jazz didn't know how to interpret that. But he did answer, {||၊|။||||•။၊|။|။|၊|။||၊၊၊|?} 

"Uh…" Yep, didn't understand any of that. 

Then the door opened on the edge behind them and Jazz for a moment thought that it would startle the wild mer. But they didn't even flinch. And while their eyes remained on him, Jazz was fairly sure now that they had been using their sonar to track the human's movement. 

"Are they still asleep?" Blaster asked, puzzled. 

"Nope, very much awake." He shifted lower to try and get more than the man's boots in his sight. 

"Ah…" He sounded uneasy and began to make small careful steps around the edge closer to Jazz while he spoke as calmly as possible. "Well, I'm going to keep talking, just so you don't think I'm trying to sneak up on you." 

When he reached the point where he was straight across from the wild mer, they lifted their head to turn their glare on the human. Blaster to his credit did not flinch, but he did freeze. "Whoa– that's – wow, t-that's quite the look." 

A series of slow clicks came from them, but their lips did not move. Jazz didn't think it was echo-speak, as it reminded him of his own searching clicks when he was trying to get a better picture. "Oh! I think he's trying to see what you have." 

The wild mer glanced to Jazz, becoming silent once more before looking back up at Blaster. 

"Fair enough, alright new buddy, I'm going to be real slow about it okay?" Back to narrating his actions calmly as he knelt down. Showing the long pole with a thin, blunt hook, "just an arm I don't mind losing if you decide that you don't like the breakfast I brought," and poured out the fish from the bucket. 

Still the wild mer glared, unblinking and watching every little movement. 

"Okay… I'm not sure what to make of this, so far everything has been nothing like previous encounters." 

"Ya, didn't you say he'd be freaking out?" 

"You got anything to calm or reassure our new buddy here that I ain't going to hurt him?" Blaster was doing his absolute best at trying to remain calm, but even his hands were starting to tremble under the pressure the wild mer was giving him. He wasn't even moving, just watching, but it felt like the human was being stalked. 

Honestly, Blaster was probably one bad move from being lunged at. Though, if that was the case, he had maybe one chance to get away. The hammock would throw him off on the first strike, the supports could probably take two or four hard thrashings before it snapped under the mer's strength. Injuries be damned, this mer was in peak physical condition. 

Jazz gave a small chirp to try and gain the other's attention, and failed, but continued with trying to talk. {It's okay, you're safe.} 

He was given a very tiny dip of his finial facing the gate – a tell that he had heard him? 

{You're safe,} Jazz repeated. 

The mer didn't look away, but he did at least respond. {•၊၊|•|၊|။။၊|။•|||။||||။၊|။•၊၊||၊|။||||။•၊|။•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•} Though, far too fast for Jazz attempt to understand. 

"I'm hoping you two are talking about your favourite fish." Blaster joked to cover his nervousness. 

Jazz sighed and admitted the truth, "I haven't a clue to what they're talking about…" 

"Just let me know if I should run, kay?" He shifted slowly on his knees, trying to find a comfortable spot without making himself too vulnerable. 

But Jazz hadn't given up yet. {Hungry?} He tried instead. 

More chirps and clicking that didn't translate. 

{Hungry? Yes? No?} 

The heavy huff that came from them caused Blaster to flinch, but the mer finally focused on Jazz. There was clear irritation in their face now on top of glaring. And the damns broke, he started ranting at him loudly. 

"Hey, don't yell at me, I'm trying okay!?" Jazz glared back, not backing down. Though wasn't all that intimidating with him just having a little porthole to look through. 

"Jazz, buddy, please don't aggravate him." He, after all, was the one in the room with the wild mer. 

"He fuckn' started it!" 

Silence came quickly as the wild mer plunked his face into the soft floaty that had been his pillow. Blaster would have found it utterly hilarious if not fearing for his life currently. With another heavy and long huff, the wild mer looked back at Jazz, still glaring, but slightly less than before. {•|||။||||။၊|။•၊၊||၊|။? Yes? No?} 

Jazz blinked at him for a moment, depending on the question, no could be a yes. {No…?} He answered tentatively instead. 

{It's safe? Yes? No?} And he pointed his nose towards Blaster briefly, but clearly wasn't happy about it. 

{Yes!} Jazz nodded vigorously and smiled for extra encouragement. Out of all the staff, Blaster was safe, Jazz held some trust in the human after all. {[Blaster] safe.} 

"What about me?" 

"He asked if you're safe and I told him you were. Relax a bit or something to show him." 

Easier said than done. Blaster cursed, but did his best to ease the tension from his shoulders and smile a little. Even, daring to slowly lift a hand to wave. 

The mer did not seem convinced, but his glare lessened some more and looked over the human with more curiosity than before. 

{Hungry? Yes? No?} Jazz tried again. 

There was a long pause, but they sighed and answered. {… yes.} 

"Progress!" He cheered and then stuck his hand through the little window. "Blaster, hand me one of the fish. He's hungry, but I have a feeling that he'll trust you more if he sees me eat what you have." 

"Okay." He made sure that it was clear as possible what his intentions were. Taking a fish under the gills, Blaster looped the blunt hook in and out the mouth. Then, very slowly, began to feed the length of the pole towards Jazz's waiting hand. Once Jazz felt the tail touch his palm, he grabbed it and waited until Blaster twisted enough for the fish to slip free. Then the pole was just as slowly drawn back. 

The whole time the wild mer watching the exchange intensely. 

Jazz pulled the fish over to his side, chirped for the other's attention before he swallowed it whole. Smiling once more as he said, {safe.} 

Blaster had to admit, he was surprised when the mer shifted slightly in the hammock, and then cautiously held out his right hand. The glare never left, but this one felt like a threat, that if he messed this chance up, there would not be another. 

Though this was the first time Jazz had been able to see any of his injuries. The colourful tape-bandages almost covered every inch of his skin from his hand up to his bicep. It reminded him that just yesterday he had been mortally wounded. Which was probably a key reason the wild mer seemed so calm, they had only started to recover and every action was either painful or exhausting. Likely both.

Jazz watched closely as Blaster went through all the careful steps as he had with Jazz and held the fish out. The only difference, was that the human's grip was loose, just in case the wild mer decided to try and yank him into the water with it. But they didn't, doing exactly as they saw before, allowing Blaster to release the fish and retreat. The whole process was so slow that the wild mer's arm started to shake from being held out. 

But both Jazz and Blaster let out a breath of relief as there had been no backlash. 

He eyed the fish in his grip with a mild sneer before he swallowed it and then held out his shaky hand for another. It was clear that the pain was getting to him, but nothing in his expression showed weakness. 

The feeding got easier and quicker as Blaster relaxed a bit, not fearing that a normal pace would come off as threatening to the wild mer. 

When the shaking got bad enough, the mer rested his arm back in the hammock, but kept his eyes on the remaining fish. As if to convey he wasn't finished, just needed a break. Blaster was more than happy to comply and gave him a few praises, even if they didn't understand. 

"Hey," Jazz called gently, chirping for the other's attention. He waited until they looked his way, then pointed at himself. "Jazz," and then to the human, "Blaster," and back to himself once more, "Jazz," before pointing to the other mer with a questioning tilt of his head. He hoped it was clear what he was asking for. 

When the silence stretched on for a bit, the human also joined in. "Blaster," to himself and to his mer, "Jazz." 

There was a brief moment that Jazz could see that they were working over something, opening their mouth a few times before the sound of a sharp zip came out. "… 'tzz?" 

Jazz snorted, before breaking into a few chuckles. "Ya, missing the Ja, but you'll get there. I'm Jazz." He placed a hand over his heart. 

The gesture was reflected, {•၊||၊။} 

It was his turn to try and work out the sound in his head. Jazz tried the word out soundlessly on his tongue once. It was like a popping roll? {•၊||၊၊၊၊၊?} 

{•၊||၊။} they repeated, firmly correcting him. 

"Nice to meet ya, {•၊||၊၊၊၊၊}!" While the mer scowled at him for not even trying to fix his pronunciation, Jazz just smiled brightly.  

"So... what is his name?" Blaster asked for a translation, very interested in the development between them.  

Jazz laughed, "I have no idea." 

______________________________

Don't ask about my attempt to make sound-wave-like-text, it's gibberish, lol, and going forward only •၊||၊။ (Prowl) & •၊||၊၊၊၊၊ (Prowler) will be used until Jazz has a English (common?) name to attach an understanding to.

Keferon, I just wanted to say that every comment or tag you leave on the fic is like serotonin being injected into my veins. Every silly little image is like rolling down a grassy hill in the warm sun while I laugh with manic joy. When you add art, it's like an adrenaline shot to the heart that makes me want to run across the globe just to frantically wave hello with both hands, give you a hug and run back to get started on the next part.

And the next part will be Prowl joining Jazz in the main pool and Jazz learning just how fast he is, even while injured. >:)c

-GLC

𓆝 Previous 𓆟 Next

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Me looking in my inbox and seeing that there's two peas in a po

Odjndgdjdkfhdkm PLEASE. Blaster is so nervous EVERYONE IS SO NERVOUS Ooohhhnooo he's gonna freak out and kill everything he can reach oh no we all know how all those wild stupid creatures are oh no watch out While Prowl is trying to blow their pancakes with mind

And I juswannasay I love it so much ehehejgknfbfkdn THE SOUND WAVE SPEACH? I LOVE THE LOOK OF IT EHEHEH

Always a big fan of creative ways of showing imaginary languages. This thing?? ||ll•|Il It looks hella stylish >:O

Aaannnndd I got excited and made some art hehe

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico doesn’t seek to uncover a new scientific field, originally. It is just that he does not understand it.

"Make better choices! Dumbass!"

"Whatever you say, Apollo Junior."

"Oh, shut up!"

This — Apollo Junior business.

There are similarities, sure. Here and there. Blond, blue-eyed, tall and strong. Many are. And of course the proclivity for drama and histrionics.

But the similarities end there, as far as Nico is concerned.

"You good?" Will calls, and Nico startles. "You're staring into space." He focuses his eyes and realizes Will is watching him out his peripherals, smiling when Nico meets his eyes.

“Do you have a photo of your mother?”

Will looks up again, eyebrows raised, glow finally fading from his hands and eyes. He holds a strip of bandage over a camper’s bicep, wrapping the roll around. “I have several," he says slowly. "Why?”

Nico squints at him.

“C’mere.”

Will hands the roll off to his patient, walking over. He stands hesitantly in front of Nico’s chair, shoulders pushed up, teeth worrying his lower lip.

Nico reaches out and tugs it free.

“You don’t look that much like your dad,” he murmurs, tilting Will’s head to the side. “You’ve got the — general blueprint, sure, but he’s all…angles.” He runs a finger over Will’s soft jaw. “You’re rounded.”

It's true. Will has more to his cheeks than his father does, baby fat he hasn't quite yet dropped. His skin is spattered with freckles on freckles, peeking through the burn scars, and his eyebrows and eyelashes are fully blond. His curls, even are nothing like so many campers claim — yes they are sunshiney, yes they are golden. The color matches the very shimmer of the sun.

But Will's curls are a mess. Constantly.

He can no more tame the mass on his head more than Chiron can control this camp. He can run a brush through, sure — not that he does — but every cowlick is at odds, and every curl chooses a different pattern. Like all the frazzle that lives in his head shoots out of his skull at random, like the exclamation points in a comic.

It's cute.

It's very un-Apollo.

"Um," manages Will, voice crackling like firewood. "Um, Nico?"

When Nico looks at him again he is glowing. Not with healing, this time, but — red. Sun-cow red, dwarf-star red.

Flustered.

Nico blinks in surprise.

"You're, um. Um! I gotta — work."

Will twitches a little in his hold, pulling back but stopping, and Nico gets the hint and releases him. He pulls back rapidly, then, haggard breath brushing across the fine hairs on Nico's fingers.

"I'm gonna," he says, or mumbles, picking at his cut up fingertips. "Uh, see you."

He runs, practically, to the back of the infirmary, disappearing behind a supply shelf. The girl he was treating throws her one working arm up in exasperation, scowling at the horrible bandage-wrapping she has attempted on herself.

"You," she says, glaring at Nico, "are always distracting him. I might as well bleed out if you're around!"

She stalks off, tossing the ruined bandage at his head. Nico slides off the nurse's station counter, nudging it with his foot. A sound escapes his throat, unbidden: a low, contemplating hum, wrapping around his tapping fingers.

He looks back towards the supply shelves and wonders.

———

He stretches it further three days later, when the weather spells are lifted to feed the strawberries.

Will delivers on the photographs.

There are, as he promised, several of them. Several dozen, really, tucked carefully in a weathered leather album, between dozens more of his siblings with them and not. He sits next to Nico on his bed, knees tucked against his chest, flipping between tracing the curve of his family's smile against the edge of his thumbnail and watching Nico from the corner of his eye.

"She's young," Nico observes, tapping at an older photo of Naomi. She is twenty-something, in the photo, early; she holds a squirming, chunky toddler Will in her lap and laughs so hard she's blurry with it.

The shape of their faces is identical down to the atoms.

"Yes," Will agrees. "She was young when she had me. Nineteen."

Nico raises his eyebrows. His own mother was young, he knows, but not for the time; Sally Jackson was young but at least old enough to drink. Will notices the look on his face and smiles a little wry, a little bitter.

"I know. I've had lots to say about it myself."

Nico nods, turning the page. This one is mostly Will's older, gone siblings -- he knows by the heaviness of Will's breathing before he can even puzzle out what the older polaroids tell him.

It is interesting, the way Will imitates. The way Lee Fletcher stands, the way Michael Yew rolls his eyes. The gentle hold of an older girl Nico doesn't recognize, poking a giggling, eight-year-old Will in the stomach. The exaggerated cheek kiss of a woman with hair down to her knees.

Will stares, now, at the photographs, images he captured, images he has memorized again and again over the years -- the blue of his eyes is almost gray in the shadows of the rainclouds, in the darkened fairy lights of the quiet cabin seven. There is a distance to them, a sadness Nico so rarely gets to see. It is pretty, on him. Makes him look heavy, makes him look full. So often he is cheery and empty, or whatever his campers, his patients need; it is relieving to see him soft and wanting for a moment, to see the love rising and bubbling in his face, to see it crashing like waves in the gentle shake of his large hands. In the rainy softness he looks like moonlight, reflective.

"They'd be proud of you, you know."

Will smiles slightly. There is no light in his eyes, for once, and Nico cannot resist running his thumb under them. Will shivers.

"You think so?"

"How could they not be?" He tilts Will's head, slightly, until those grayed blue eyes lock squarely on his, wide and hopeful. "I am."

He says it slowly, carefully, spending time on the separation between the vowels. Like he hoped there comes the heat, seeping right through to his roughened palms. He removes them quickly, unwilling to miss it, and to his sudden wave of satisfaction there it is: the redness in his cheeks, glowing like June strawberries. His looks away quickly, biting the corner of his cheek.

"I'm -- uh."

He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. It pops back into his eyes immediately, so Nico tugs it gently back, tucking it behind the bobby pin by his temple. He watches his lips part as he inhales more than he hears the sharpness of it.

"...Thank you, Nico."

Nico watches the quiet set to his face, the small, pleased smile. Tiny. He watches the color that clings to his cheeks even as he flips through the rest of the photos, even as he is absorbed in distant memories. He watches. He watches Will watch him, out of the corners of his eyes, through the curls of his hair. Nico exhales, low and contemplating.

"Of course."

———

Will is a deeply affectionate person.

It is in the mornings when he grabs Austin's grouchy, scowling face, pressing deafening and exaggerating smooches all over until he cracks and laughs. It is in the gentle hand on Kayla's shoulder on the range, waving wildly at the missed target until she nods, eyes bright again, face narrowed in determination along her next shot. It is in the gentle hip-check of a frantic, barking Clarisse out of the way, murmuring assurances as he patches a slash through Chris's bicep. It is in the sunshine-bright smiles pointed at everyone he sees, at the thanks, darlin'! at busy passing nymphs and tricking Chiron into giving up his paperwork. It is in both hands occupied by giggling, awestruck children and his shoulders the new hot seat, it is in the shrieking laugh bubbling out of Lou Ellen's mouth as he twirls her to music playing only in his head, it is in his holler of gravity's increasing on me!! as he crushes Cecil to the ground. It is in the arm he slings over Nico's shoulders, constantly, the parting mwah pressed to his temple, the brush of his guitar-callused fingertips across cheekbones, knuckles, shoulders and crooked elbows.

It is everywhere. It is constant. It is, almost, forgettable.

It is confounding.

Nico tests it, again. He waits for the dusk of campfire, on an evening cold enough even Will is in tight blue jeans, and he says, in front of everybody:

“You look good.”

The tips of his own ears are red, hidden by his hair, and his voice is low enough to have several onlookers wolf whistle.

But the flames don’t burst into being across Will’s nose.

Instead he grins, wide and grandiose, cocks his hip high, and says, in the worst exaggeration of his soft, subtle accent Nico has ever heard:

“Aw, don’t I?”

And Nico thinks:

Hm.

He watches, and every day is groundhog day; every day Will is grinning teeth and kiss-pursed lips and hearty palms and gentle, careful fingers. Every morning he greets Nico with his lips pressed to his fingers and blown into the air, and he is shameless, and when there is teasing he responds with knuckles dug into ribs and wide-mouthed grins and come here, brat, you're next. Every other sentence ends in darlin' or dearest or if he's talking to Nico than a million others he pulls from a hat, Zombie Boy and Death Breath and sweetcheeks and princess. He doesn't even think about them. Nico will blink at every new one and say, no, and he will laugh, low and snorting, and double down. And Drew will roll her eyes and mutter about Southern charm or rather his lack of it and can you maybe be a kicked puppy somewhere away from me, please and he will roll his eyes. And he will walk Nico to his door every night and say, bright as daylight, night, Neeks, love you! and bound away across the common, shrieking as the harpies descend on his chronically late ass.

And Nico thinks:

Hm.

But there will be moments. In corners, or in twilight: when it is someone else's turn to sing, when someone else strokes the little ones' hair as they blink themselves awake to drowsy flames, when the campfire smoke is sweet and soft and wraps around the two of them, on the blanket Will has laid out. And Will will yawn, head drooping, halfway asleep, too out of it to notice Nico's creeping hand. And Nico will touch, barely, the edge of his pinky to the bent knuckle of Will's, tucked away between them, shrouded in shadow.

And under the dancing light of flickering embers, Will's face will burn.

And Nico thinks:

Ah.

———

Nico decides to consult an expert.

"Morning," mumbles Annabeth, bumping into him as she stumbles her way to breakfast.

Nico follows quickly, sitting down next to her and staring until she sets down her book. When she does not, he puts a very careful finger on the spine, tugging down until she blinks.

"Oh, Nico! Hey. Good morning."

Nico hides a small smile. "Morning," he greets back. "I have a Question."

"Capital Q question," Annabeth observes, taking a bite of her cereal. She glances over at her half-closed book. Nico cautiously slides it away, and she glances back. "Shoot."

"How do I test a theory?"

"Uh, hypothesis, usually," she answers. "Unless your theory is: Percy is deathly afraid of centipedes, in which case I will go ahead and confirm that theory for you."

"No, that's not the theory." Nico blinks. "Thank you, though."

"Mhm. Reparations, etc etc."

"Right. Uh, my theory is secret."

Annabeth stares at him. Nico stares back. Annabeth does not blink. Nico squirms.

"A gay theory," she surmises.

"Shut up," Nico confirms, red-faced.

Annabeth grins. "Make a list of true/false statements you can prove or disprove. Test them. After testing, form a conclusion." She waves her spoon emphatically. A drop of milk lands on Nico's eyelid, and she smiles sheepishly. "Boom. Questions gained. Will Solace's Affections: conquered."

"Shut up," he says, again. But then adds, belatedly: "Thank you."

He flees to the exit horn of her cackling, before anyone can overhear them.

———

next

[livthelazywriter]

Did Not Prepare For This

Bradley gets throw into the PNW winter all because the Navy is using an air force base for training purposes. It’s snowing and single digits. He was not prepared for this. Or meeting a cute weathered veteran of the bipolar weather. You.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem!Reader

Warnings: poorly proof read, fluff

~masterlist~

Of all the U.S. Air Force bases, it had to be two states away from sunny California, where the weather is known to be stupidly bipolar.

Washington freaking state.

It’s at least three degrees but definitely feels like negative digits because of the slight wind chill. On top of that, it’s snowing.

He was not prepared for it to be this cold. Yes, he got a navy issued winter jacket and yes he has a hat on. Also, yes, he’s in his flight suit. That should totally be warm enough, right?

Wrong.

Not for this man. Not for the man used to sunny and warm winters. Not for the man used to ninety degree weather and dying in the cockpit of his fighter jet from the blaring California sun.

He trudges through the slushy parking lot of the grocery store back to his car the navy issued for him for the short time in this horribly cold state. Thank goodness for his boots.

When he finally makes it to the car, he is shivering with the small plastic bag of essentials he somehow forgot to pack. Seeing the state of his car, although being inside for only ten to twenty minutes, he groans, seeing the good layer of snow that has already built up.

Bradley lets out a few quiet curses as he yanks his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car. Tucking his hand into the sleeve of his jacket, he wipes the snow from the handle to open the door. With a grumble, he tosses the bag to the passenger seat as he gets in to start up the dinky car he for some reason can't even fit in comfortably. Badley shoves the key in the ignition and turns the key.

As he begins to wipe off the snow, a female catches his eye. He pauses mid-wipe on his windshield as he watches her walk by. She's bundled up in a big puffy jacket that reaches her knees, a beanie, and a pair of gloves.

Cute.

Suddenly he feels very stupid with how he is cleaning off his car. Nonetheless, he watches her as the snow continues to recover the spot he cleared off. She puts her bag in her car, starts it, and then proceeds to exit with a car brush.

He's staring. The snow falls on her jacket and hat as she sweeps the snow off her windshield. When she does a quick glance over, Badley clears his throat and goes back to using his sleeves to clear the snow on his car. By now the dark blue and grey camo of his navy jacket is soaked and all he can do is cringe.

"You need some help?" You finally ask with an amused smile as you hold your car brush up in his direction.

"Please." He grumbles as he stands up from his bent-over position over the hood of his car. Bradley shakes off his sleeve to get rid of the built-up snow.

Your footsteps crunch with the new fallen snow on the ground of the parking lot. Once at the passenger side of his car, you begin wiping off his windshield. You flick the snow off onto the ground with a flick of your wrist. Feeling generous, you clean off the hood then move to his doo, windowsand and eventually clean the rest off for him.

"There we go. All cleaned off." You turn to him with a smile.

"Thanks." Bradley sighs, shaking off his sleeve. He glances at the brush in her hand and then up to her face as she pushes the glasses on her nose. The crystal clear lenses are collecting snowflakes.

"I think it's obvious I'm not from here." Bradley chuckled softly with a shake of his head. The woman in front of him chuckled in return; it was warm compared to the cold winter.

"Just a little bit." She replies with a smile while wetting her dry lips.

"They sell these in the store if you need one." She holds her brush up and gestures to the store.

"Might have to, yeah." Bradley nods. An awkward silence falls between the two, yet neither seems to move their cares to leave.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three-

"So where are you from then?"

"California."

The woman bites her bottom lip between her teeth and cringes. Bradley raises a brow at her reaction.

'What?"

She shifts her weight on both feet with a small shrug as a playful smiles gaces her lips. "Nothing just, Washington residents have unsaid beef with people from California."

Bradley lets out a sound that's a mix of a scoff and a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, well, it's not like I got a say in the matter."

"Military?" The woman in front of him asks, arching her right brow.

"Navy pilot." Bradley nods firmly in confirmation.

"That explains it." She nods as she crosses her arms over her chest. Her puffy jacket makes a scratchy noise as it rubs against itself as her arms fold.

Bradley tilts his. head with furrowed brows in slight offense. "Explains what?"

She just grins and lets her head fall to the side while jutting her hip out. "It explains why you are standing in the middle of the parking lot looking miserable while trying to clean your windshield off with your jacket sleeve."

Bradley lets out a huff of laughter and shakes his head. "Yeah, well, I'm not snow trained like you. Grew up with nothing but sunshine and warm weather."

She does nothing but smile and shrug her right shoulder up to her ear. A silence falls between them. Cardoors closing and shopping carts being pushed through slushy snow fill the void of not talking.

"You always go arouind saving us poor and unprepared Californians, or am I getting special treatment over here?"

“I guess you’ll never know.” The woman smiles softly with a faint purse of her lips. Bradley laughs under his breath and stuffs his arms in his jacket. His head shakes before leaning it to the side.

“You got a name?”

“Maybe. Might have to kill you after.”

Bradley snorts softly and takes steps to be closer. His right hand slides out of his pocket then out to her direction.

“Alright mystery woman, I’m Bradley.”

She takes his hand and gives him a firm shake with her snow dusted, gloved, hand.

“Y/n”

Bradley nods softly. He tests the name in his tongue with a mumble.

“You gotta number too?” He adds with a small grin as he lets go if her hand.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He takes another step forward while sticking his hand back in his pocket. He licks his dry bottom lip.

“Because I would kick myself if I let you slip away without getting it so I could get to know you.”

Bradley does a small side nod as he rolls his shoulders.

“Might regret it for the rest of my life actually.” He adds with a slight playful and gilt tripping tone. This cause Y/n to laugh with a snort into the back of her hand.

“Alright alright.” She pulls her phone from her pocket. She holds her phone out to Bradley.

"Put your phone number in smooth talker."

Bradley grins and takes her phone. His bare, calloused hand brushes against her gloved one. A jolt goes through them both. Goose bumps rise on her arms; no, it's not from the cold Washington weather. Bradley promptly puts in his info then sends himself a ‘hi’ so her number pops up on his phone. She takes her phone back and slips it into her pocket.

“How long are you here for?” She asks with a small clearing of her throat.

“Couples weeks.” Bradley responds. Y/n’s heart clenches as she glance down at the ground with a nod.

“I do want to make the most of it though.” He adds quickly. “If you’ll let me.”

Her head snaps up as her eyes widen. A smile stretches her lips.

“I would love that.”

The two of them let out an excited breath as they shift their feet. She takes a step back.

“I have to head home before it gets too cold and the roads freeze. Stay warm.” She says with smile and walking backwards to her car.

“I will definitely try my best. Wish the California sun came with me.” Bradley replies with chuckle. Y/n gets back to her car. As she goes to get in, she slips on the ledge. Bradley jolts and takes a step.

“You good?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” She waves him off with now even brighter red cheeks and a laugh. She is buzzing. Before getting to the seat, she gives him a small wave.

Bradley turns around and lets out a long shaky sigh while smiling.

Maybe it was a good thing he was not completely prepared for the weather.

[fairyroses]

Jayvik AU inspired by this tweet where Jayce is the only one credited for inventing hextech because his "silent" partner Viktor is actually an astral projection that only he can see and talk to (and maybe, if they try hard enough, even touch...? 👀)

[katsu2ji]

satoru is a sappy drunk — smau

a/n: as someone who doesn't drink and instead watches over her best friends who get super clingy and cute when drunk, i imagine satoru to be like said friends

satoru is typically not one for alcohol; it impairs his abilities, and he most definitely does not like feeling out of control

the idea of a hangover also just sounds extremely unappealing to him, so why bother?

so when he's drunk—a rare sight, as we have established—you know that he's comfortable around the people he's drinking with

there is also the fact that he is a lightweight.

a HUGE, sappy-when-drunk, clingy-towards-anything-with-a-pulse, lightweight.

he comes home red, giggly, and shit faced drunk, clinging to you as though you're gonna disappear if he lets go (after you and suguru pry him off his best friend, of course)

he regrets his choices deeply the next morning.

katsu2ji © 2025. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[ebitenpura]

based off of spoiler screenshots I thought Caldarus would move into your house and was being gently nurtured in the farmer's bed after using the last of his energy to save them but the reality was not that. OTL

[maraskywalkers]

okay so I was on a bit of a "soap survives mw3" soapghost kick & then got on a nikprice kick so now I've been thinking a lot about a "soap lives but is taken by makarov" winter soldier esque au where nik learns soap is alive & in makarov's clutches & ultimately helps rescue him but he doesn't immediately tell Price & the 141 so there's some drama & tension about it

okay so like he doesn't say anything because at first it's only rumors right like very vague underground conspiracy theory type stuff so he's not gonna say anything because he doesn't want to get their hopes up or drag them into some dangerous obsession that could ultimately be fruitless

bc I also headcanon that price goes to nik after killing shepard and the two of them end up spending the night together like you know they have a very intense passionate night where price is actually the most vulnerable he'll allow himself to be & it's emotional & intense & heartbreaking & beautiful okay you know all those things

and anyway it's relevant bc nik has seen where price is at right like what makarov has done to his captain what losing soap has done to him & also the 141 bc price expressed his concerns for them with gaz trying to hold them together while ghost is slowly slipping further away from them

so ok he doesn't say anything but keeps his ears open to anything & ofc starts getting more & more pieces so eventually he actually investigates & then he contacts laswell like this could actually be something but we need actual proof & she's on board even tho the whole thing sounds impossible & they do get their proof that soap is alive & makarov has him

but soap is not soap anymore

he's been tortured & brainwashed a la winter soldier style, he doesn't know who he is or have any memories of the 141, he's just been turned into a weapon for makarov to use however he wants

so nik & laswell decide not tell price, maybe it's more laswell than nik (she's worried this might actually break them & they're barely holding it together as is?) but they ultimately agree & make a deal to find a way to bring soap back & bring soap home before they do

and I'm not totally sure what I want but I like the idea of them getting him back & he winds up staying with nik for a while in like a safehouse or some hidden location while they help him and want to reach out to price & the 141 like as soon as they him secured at the safehouse but they aren't able to right away like maybe the 141 got a lead on makarov so they're on the other side of the world & had to go dark or something like there's a disruption in their ability to communicate

but makarov can still finds out that soap has been not only discovered but rescued before nik or laswell can get the 141 bc like it's not something they can drop in a phone call they're trying to tell them in person & everything you know?

but anyway I kinda like them finding out thru makarov bc he thinks that it's them like he knows they're all a team or whatever & he knows who has soap so he makes some sort of comment about him and price is like wtf are you talking about & bc makarov is a sadistic bastard he laughs all like oh you don't know & idk it's a whole thing

but so then! ofc they get a hold of laswell & nik & it all comes out & it's terrible bc the 141 is hurt & angry but like price is esp hurt by nik not telling him bc he was there after & what they talked about & how price had opened himself to nik about losing soap & nik is like I wanted to tell you but I had to be sure I could bring him back to you first & also like "I didn't know then, I didn't know that night, I swear to you" and it's all emotional & tense but they end up making up (and eventually making love again ofc)

and oh actually I think I had the idea of it being soap eventually like calling price & gaz & ghost out on being mad but probably moreso ghost I think actually bc price works thru it with nik & laswell on a more personal level bc they have history there the three of them & gaz does too but it's different & ofc he is upset but I think he'd be able to understand a bit more whereas ghost who is already not great at feelings is like still reeling from soap being alive & being kept from him by a friend/ally (past trust issues popping up again) that he hasn't even begun to process soap being tortured & brainwashed yet so soap has to bring him around

like a soap who's been slowly coming back to himself with help but maybe he's not totally there but enough that he gets it you know he appreciates what nik & laswell have done for him & are still doing & he's able to offer perspective like "it was awful Lt I think if you'd seen me it've killed ya" (ghost would have some comment about like already being dead or how losing soap almost killed him, you know something dramatic & devastating & borderline romantic all at once) and eventually they mend all the rifts & everything

and I focused on nikprice here but it is equally in my head as a soapghost story like soap is never fully gone so the heartbreak of remembering but not remembering & recovering & dealing with the fallout of having been makarov's & all of the guilt & shame he'd feel (uncalled for obvs but he'd still grapple with it) and like knowing simon before he fully remembers him and just being heartbreaking

and ghost too like I have a line in my head when price is confronting nik that's along the lines of "we almost lost simon" bc ghost was not handling his grief well and like i can't decide if they were pre relationship or established relationship but I'm a sucker for the ghost hadn't ever said I love you out loud to soap yet thing so it's especially like gut punch

but ultimately a happy ending ofc for all of them!! like bucky barnes soap gets his mind, his memories, himself back and he heals & so does ghost & the rest of the 141 & soapghost probably get married bc I love that and nikprice actually acknowledge they're in love & committed to each other

so yeah if you read all of that wow thank you sorry if it wasn't totally coherent I've played mw1 & mw2 but haven't finished mw3 so sorry if things are inaccurate or just like weird & silly

I have no current plans to actually write this fic bc I don't have the confidence to do it justice or the motivation to try right now but like who knows??

but! if you're a fic writer & you wanna take it & run with it please do!!!! just let me know so I can read it!! same for fan artists!

[cayennecrush]

THE FIC IS DONE!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉 YAAAY!

its about half-plot half-porn, lots of silly flirting, a fun night-time chase through Canyon Crossing, and ofc hot nasty fucking lol. its called Risk & Reward 🖤

read it on ao3 here!

[hollowstarchaser]

James and Sirius are roommates and best friends (obviously) and one day when Sirius is away for a week for his job James and Remus meet on a dating app and they start low-key dating... Sirius comes back and now both Sirius and Remus have a big problem because Sirius likes James's boyfriend a bit too much and Remus is starting to fall for Sirius too... They try to resist and avoid each other as much as possible.

During his "work thing" Sirius in reality was meeting with Regulus (who James doesn't know directly but he doesn't like him much from the story Sirius told him of Sirius trying to get close to him again when he was 18 and Regulus completely shutting the door on his face with... Uh, colourful insults lol ) and they decided to actually try to be close again because Regulus moved back to London where they live

This goes on for a few weeks, Sirius is now feeling so guilty for hiding all of this from James that he is avoiding him a little and James is upset by this because he noticed that there's something wrong but he doesn't understand what... one day he follows Sirius to understand where he's going every Sunday morning but he loses him amongst the crowd and then bumps into a man on the street making him completely spill his two cups of coffee on himself... and bloody hell... he likes Remus but, this is the most beautiful man he ever saw in his life, he has to keep talking to him... he's so rude, but it also looks like they're... bantering? this goes on for a few minutes before an ethereal looking girl gets out of the coffee shop and asks "Reg" if he's okay and if he now wants the extra two coffees she made(is this woman psychic??? Well, yeah... ), James gets left on the street and that's when he gets a call from his boyfriend who reminds him he's being an idiot and makes him feel guilty as hell, he goes back home.

James's problem is not over though, because that will not be the last time he randomly meets this man during his week...

[skyward-floored]

Downfall IAU, next part to Sunlight. Legend stresses, everyone worries, and Twilight’s finally safe... but is he okay?

(Blood/injury warning, and the very slight beginnings of a panic attack)

————————————————————

Legend had had the thought before, but lately he was really starting to wonder if one day his head would just pop from the weight of everything that was going on in his life.

He was wanted by the government, Twilight was hurt, their parents were gone, the odds were stacked endlessly high against them, and whenever Legend tried to help, things only seemed somehow to get worse. Not to mention how apparently there was another dimension where things seemed to be better and he had four extra brothers, two of which had ended up here somehow.

...But now really wasn’t the time to be thinking about it.

Twilight mumbled something indecipherable beside him from Sky’s arms, and Legend bit his lip. Twilight just needed to be taken down into the base, and then he’d be fine. Hyrule could heal him just fine. Getting Twilight there was going to be the most difficult part, but they’d manage.

Sky lifted Twilight onto his back with a grunt, Legend going first down the ladder in case he slipped to catch him. Wind went last, helping Sky in any way he could, and their trip down was near silent except for Twilight’s rasping breath. Legend felt near dizzy with emotion by the time they reached the bottom, and he almost missed a rung when Twilight groaned.

I swear Twilight if you don’t make it out of this alive—

“Hyrule!” Legend shouted before his feet even hit the floor, and Hyrule’s head shot up from where he was still playing uno in the corner. “Hyrule get over here!”

“Twilight!” Four gasped as Sky eased him off his back, and Hyrule scrambled to his feet, rushing over to where Legend was helping Sky carry Twilight towards the room with the beds.

“Can you help him?” Sky asked worriedly, and Hyrule nodded as he walked beside him, already lighting up his hands.

“It’ll help if his shirt is out of the way,” Hyrule replied shortly, setting a hand on Twilight’s head where the dried blood was thickest. Sky hurried through the door, setting Twilight on the closest bed, and he let out a groan that sent a jolt through Legend’s chest. He firmly ignored it and began unbuttoning the shirt Twilight had on, and saw Wind hovering anxiously nearby as Four ran up, eyes huge.

Aryll tried to follow them through the door, but Ravio took her arm and said something Legend couldn’t hear over the roaring in his ears.

“Is he okay?!” Four gasped as he looked at Twilight, and Legend very much ignored the red staining his hands.

“He will be. Hyrule’s good at this,” Wind said in a voice he was obviously trying to make reassuring as Legend began ripping Twilight’s shirt where there weren’t buttons. Twilight stirred a little at the motion and looked at them all, then tried to clumsily grab at Legend’s arm. Four took his hand before Legend could do anything.

“I’m-m fine,” Twilight slurred, his eyes unfocused, and Legend glared at him.

“You’re not, shut up,” he hissed, finishing with his shirt with a sharp rip. “There, done.”

Sky propped Twilight up a bit so they could remove his shirt, Twilight hissing in pain as they pulled it off. But Legend had made sure to rip it neatly, and they didn’t have to move him too much. The moment it was out of the way Hyrule moved forward, and he pressed his hands to Twilight’s bloody shoulder, the action prompting a strangled yell from him.

Twilight tried to launch himself out of the bed, and Legend moved to help Sky and Wind hold him down, their faces shining with blue as Hyrule used his powers. Twilight writhed a little, clumsily pawing at the arms holding him down, and somehow despite his exhaustion he felt as strong as ever to Legend.

“Twilight, hold still,” Sky urged, and Twilight squeezed his eyes shut, obviously making an effort, but still shaking.

The shouting had attracted more attention as well, and Sun hurried into the room with a sharp intake of breath, shooing Aryll away again when she tried to run in, and setting a hand on Twilight. Hyrule kept working, eyes closed and face creased, and Legend watched him and Twilight with his heart in his throat.

He didn’t have a very good grasp on everything Hyrule was capable of, but he looked like he was focusing rather hard. Was that bad? It must have been bad.

Was Twilight even more hurt than he looked?

Hyrule shifted his hands and Twilight started squirming around again, face pained. Sun noticed, and she began to hum, soft glimmers of light drifting through the air at the action. Twilight’s bleary gaze flicked to her, and his struggles slowly relaxed as he listened.

His breath was still coming fast, and he occasionally let out a sharp twitch of pain, but the humming seemed to help with the worst of it. Legend even felt marginally calmer with the sound of his aunt’s music as well.

But only a bit.

It felt like a long time before the glow from Hyrule’s hands finally faded, and he let out a sharp exhale. His hands jerked as he withdrew them, palms stained red, and Legend immediately swung his gaze from him back at Twilight.

He wasn’t moving.

“Did that do it? Is he okay?” Legend asked sharply, and Hyrule flinched.

“H-He’s stable. But he n-needs, a sling, probably, a-and his shoulder, bandages,” Hyrule forced out, voice oddly clipped despite the stammering. “Further examination should— should be, done. Dismissed?”

Legend and Sky both looked at him then, Legend’s whirling thoughts screeching to a halt as Sky’s expression turned to one of dismay. Hyrule was shaking like he’d just run a marathon, but his pose was rigid, eyes fixed forward, back straight, hands tight at his sides.

He looked... blank.

Sun quickly moved when she noticed Hyrule’s state, and she put her hand on his arm, holding him up when he swayed.

“Yes, dismissed. Rest, Link,” she reassured softly, and Hyrule dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, unconscious.

Sun caught him in her arms, and the room went quiet.

“What... was that?” Four asked after a minute, and Sky looked at Hyrule, face saddened.

“Old habits die hard,” he murmured, and Legend suddenly felt very, very sick.

Before he could process it though, Twilight grunted, catching everyone’s attention and distracting Legend from the sudden urge to vomit. Twilight still looked utterly exhausted, but when he opened his eyes there was a clearness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“Oh. Hey,” he mumbled, blinking up at everyone staring at him, and Legend felt a sharp stab of relief hit him.

“Hey yourself. How are you feeling?” Sky replied with a small smile, and Twilight slowly blinked, then closed his eyes again.

“Better. Not... great. But better,” he said, voice still hoarse.

“Well why don’t you get some rest,” Sky said gently, moving his hand to rest on Twilight’s head, and Twilight weakly hummed, leaning into the touch. “We can talk later.”

Twilight was asleep in seconds, and Sky drew back, exhaling as he shifted his wing a little. He set it around Sun and Hyrule, and Legend’s gaze snapped back to the healer, silent and pale.

He was vaguely aware of the other people in the room, Wind looking around at everyone, Twilight still bloody where he lay asleep in the bed, Four quietly holding his hand. Sun held Hyrule as she and Sky gave each other a look, but Legend couldn’t tear his gaze away from Hyrule, unconscious and exhausted with his hands coated in blood, and felt the urge to be sick again.

He thought he was back there because of you—

“Come on. Let’s let them rest,” Sky said finally, breathing out and giving Legend’s shoulder a quick squeeze. Legend nearly threw him off. “That’s what they both need right now. We can reevaluate once Twilight can tell us more of what happened.”

“But... will he be okay?” Wind spoke up, eyes darting between Twilight and Sky.

“He will. Right now sleep is what he needs more than anything. Come on,” Sky said encouragingly, and Wind reluctantly pulled back.

“I’m staying,” Legend managed to choke out when Sky nudged him, and his uncle nodded, giving him a gentle look.

Sky began steering the others back out of the room while Sun settled Hyrule on a bed, and Legend watched distantly as she quickly wiped the blood from his hands and set a blanket over him. He was feeling oddly detached from what had just happened, even with the emotion frothing around inside of him like a storming ocean.

Legend had spent most of the day before now in a tired daze, wrung out from the entirety of yesterday and having barely slept overnight. He thought he didn’t have anything left, but the whirlwind of relief and terror that Twilight’s return had brought along with Hyrule’s reaction was bringing it all up again and he just felt... sick.

Suddenly his aunt was pushing him down to sit in a chair, and Legend blinked as she handed him a wet cloth to wipe his own hands off with.

“Come on Legend, you’re all right,” she said gently, and Legend realized he was shaking. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Twi first,” he managed to get out, and Sun’s eyebrows crinkled.

“Me and Sky already got him cleaned up. You’re the only one left,” she said, and Legend blinked, looking at Twilight and realizing she was right. His brother had had the blood cleaned from him and his injuries wrapped, a blanket placed over him, same as Hyrule.

When had that happened?

When Legend didn’t move, Sun sat beside him and began gently wiping his hands herself, the feel of the damp cloth oddly startling. Legend looked down at Twilight’s blood still on his hands, parts of his shirt damp with it from when he’d hugged his brother, and felt rather lightheaded all of a sudden.

“Easy Legend,” Sun said, her hand suddenly catching his shoulder. “Deep breaths. You’re okay.”

Legend swallowed and tried to do as she said, shakily breathing in, then letting it out. He flicked his gaze away from the red on his hands, and focused instead on the golden color of Sun’s hair, swaying a little as she wiped off his hands.

He was... really not a fan of blood.

But he managed to even his breath by the time Sun finished, even though his cheeks burned a little at the realization she’d had to clean him up like a child. He easily could have done it himself, though... looking at the red and thinking about everything else it meant would probably only make him feel more lightheaded.

Embarrassing as it was, he... appreciated the gesture.

Sun set the washcloth aside, and Legend finally looked down at his hands, clean of any blood, calloused and speckled with scars.

“I set Hyrule off,” he whispered.

Sun breathed out, nodding. “You were only part of it, but... yes. It was hardly on purpose though, and I know you’ll apologize when he wakes up.”

“He thought he was back at that clinic we saved him from,” Legend croaked, “he thought we were them.”

“This isn’t the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last,” Sun replied gently, something heavier in her voice. “...I hate it as much as you, Legend. But Hyrule was there for a long time, it’s not all going to be erased in a few weeks. All we can do is help him as best we can. We all have our scars.”

Legend didn’t reply, glancing down at the old burns on his wrist, and Sun sighed. She ran a worried hand over his head before standing up, and said she was going to go touch base with Sky. She seemed to have realized he wasn’t in the mood to talk, another thing Legend was grateful for, and he nodded at her as she left, carefully closing the door behind her.

Legend was alone.

He breathed out, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he glanced at Hyrule again. The healer was almost as pale as Twilight was where he’d curled into his blanket, and Legend’s fingernails dig into his palms. He’d make it up to Hyrule. He didn’t know how, but he would.

For now though, he had someone else to worry about.

Legend swallowed and stood up, his feet wobbling a little under him, but he managed to walk over to his brother’s bedside, sitting on the edge of it as Twilight slept on. Twilight was much less pale, closer to his normal skin tone, and though there were too many bandages for Legend’s taste, he looked a lot better. Just exhausted.

An idea flitted across his mind then, and Legend stilled, surprised he’d had the thought. He glanced around the room, hesitating, but before he could have second thoughts, he breathed in, and let the power he almost never used sweep over him. His body compressed, twisting around, ears elongating, frame shrinking down and leaving the world a lot bigger than before.

Legend, now a small, pink rabbit, wiggled an ear as he adjusted to his body. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d turned into a rabbit, it had been... a while.

Sometime before Dad had died.

Legend almost turned back, but then he remembered why he’d done it in the first place. Twilight liked animals. A lot. And since Legend couldn’t really do anything else for him at the moment... it had seemed like a good idea.

Legend swallowed, and placed a paw on his brother, feeling his heart beat steadily. Twilight shifted just a little in his sleep at the touch, and Legend sighed, wiping a paw across his nose. He carefully climbed up beside Twilight, curling himself into a ball, and nestled up to his side, frowning as he felt him.

Twilight was cold. Twilight was never cold.

Legend nuzzled closer, and made sure the blanket was tucked to Twilight’s chin, and let himself be comforted by the steady movement of his brother’s chest going up and down, focusing on the sound of both his breath and Hyrule’s nearby.

Twilight was okay. They were both okay.

Legend closed his eyes against all the other thoughts in his mind, focusing only on that one.

They’re okay.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 97

Part 1 Part 96

Perkins and Barb are already there when Eddie wakes up. Perkins hushed laugh grates at his brain, shredding it like cheese until he has no choice but to open his eyes. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie murmurs, rubbing dust bunnies from his eyes.

They’re sitting huddled together at the side of Steve’s bed, Wayne at their side in his own chair. 

“Mornin’, boy,” he says, sipping at his shitty cup of free hospital coffee as he looks down his nose at Eddie’s prone form. “You done hogging your friend's sick bed?” He puts a weird inflection on the word ‘friend’ that has Eddie’s cheeks blooming.

“Shut up, old man,” he hisses. 

The bed’s a tight enough fit that he can feel Steve’s warmth radiating all up his back and up his ribs where his arm’s partially wrapped around Eddie. He tries to shuffle free, movements slow and furtive so as not to interrupt his sleep. 

It doesn’t work. Steve’s arm tightens, the metal splint on finger painfully into Eddie’s ribs as he mutters, “where you going Eddie?” but he slurs it altogether and trails off so it comes out more like, “wherego, Ed.” 

Eddie smiles, helpless and aching with it as he settles back onto the hospital's shitty cardboard mattress.

“You’ve got visitors, angel.”

Steve’s hand leaving his waist feels like a loss. His elbow digs into Eddie’s back as he props himself up enough to be able to see past Eddie’s wild hair to who’s sitting beside his bed. 

“What the fuck?” 

Wayne huffs. “Mornin, kid, reaching past Eddie to ruffle Steve’s hair. “How ya feelin’?”

“I’m fine,” Steve lies, voice turning distant and small as he asks,  “Carol?”

Unable to stand not seeing Steve’s face for a second longer, Eddie shuffles within tight quarters to lever himself up, back plastered to what passes as the bed’s headboard. Steve’s still propped up on his elbows, arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up.

Eddie reaches over, pulling with all his strength until Steve’s settled upright beside him. Steve doesn’t turn his way, but he reaches over and takes Eddie’s hand like it’s instinct, and that’s even better.

Steve’s eyes are big as he looks over at his best friend. “What–” he starts, word cracking dryly in his throat.  “What are you doing here?”

Eddie reaches over to grab the pitcher of water on Steve’s bedside table, glowering when Barb beats him to it. She pours it into one of the hospital's flimsy paper cups, holding it out to Steve like an offering.

He takes it, gulps it down, doesn’t look away from Perkinsl’ washed-out face. 

She’s not wearing any make-up, and her hair’s gone all greasy and flat. Most damning, she’s wearing one of Steve’s Hawkins swim team hoodies that Eddie knows for a fact was folded up in his own dresser at home. It swallows her, hanging past her hips until she’s shapeless.

She looks worn down and tired. Still, she rolls her eyes as Barb settles back down beside her. “What, you think I was gonna miss the show?” she asks. Her lips are quirked up playfully, eyes glossy.  “It was like King Steve all over again” 

Eddie looks away from her to watch that land on Steve. Steve who has always somehow been more and less than those around him make him out to be. Steve who’s always been more than a simple high school king. He furrows his brows the way he does when he knows there was a joke but the punchline hasn’t landed for him. 

“Wha–”

“You know because you were out of your mind and lost control?”

Eddie whips his head around, ready to strangle and snarl, rend flesh from bone. Barb sighs, dropping her face in her hand. Perkinss just sitting there, biting her lip on a laugh as she keeps her gaze trained on Steve. Like she hadn’t just said the most insensitive fucking thing Eddie’d ever heard come out of her mouth. 

Eddie feels Steve’s whole body tremble where their pressed hip to overlapping hip in the small bed. The rage boils inside Eddie until he’s shaking with it.

Behind him, Steve Harrington laughs. Eddie turns. Steve’s shoulders are shaking as he bites his own lip against his own helpless laughter, eyes shining as he looks over at his morbid, fucking up best friend. 

“Personally, I think this is an upgrade,” Steve says because even in this, these two are fucking freaks about everything.

“Beer pong to dropping bodies?” Perkins asks.

Eddie can’t help the way he gasps, clutching at his chest like he’s a suburban Mom that just caught sight of some ruffian in the grocery store. Perkins shifts her eyes over to Eddie, and somehow looking at his beat up face is what gets her crying.

It’s less that she stands up and more than she tries to stand, lunges forward, knees hitting the metal edge of the bed with a thwack as she crawls over the safety railing and falls partially on top of both their mangled bodies. 

Eddie tries to squirm out and away, but she’s got her face buried in Steve’s shoulder, arms wrapped around both of their necks. “I’m sorry I got lover boy's face beat in!” she warbles.

Steve snorts, snotty and wet. “That was you?”

They’re both messy, crying and laughing, refusing to let Eddie off this fucking bed and away from whatever the hell has infected it. He raises his head in desolation to meet Barb’s resigned gaze. 

She shrugs at him, chin cradled in the palm of her hand as she watches the two idiots in the bed lose their shit over something that should’ve never been funny. 

Eddie squints at her. She looks so ready to accept fate, like of course Perkins would be like this, and of course she’ll stay anyway. Somehow, after such a short time, they’re already a package deal.

Well, she could do worse. They both could 

“Carol, you–” Eddie starts before stalling, staring with wide eyes at Barb’s amused face. He clears his throat, starts over even though it’s too late. Names hold power, and now Carol’s gonna have ownership of his soul. Or however it goes. “Perkins, you’re a fucking freak.”

Carol sniffles and snorts, like a pig in a bog before lifting her head from Steve’s neck. Her face is covered in snot and saltwater, eyes puffy and ruined, but she’s smiling when she flings her arms around Eddie, rubbing her face into his own shirts despite his protests.

“Takes one to know one, darling,” she says, hugging him tight. 

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary @practicallybegging

Part 98

[wikiangela]

seven sentence sunday

thank you to everyone who's been tagging me, I've been slacking on posting here and keeping up with my notifs lmao but I appreciate y'all <3

sooo... did someone say post-bucktommy-break-up saltommy? 👀 (btw they're just friends here, no romantic feelings, just an unhealthy way to deal with shit for both of them lmao)

___

“You okay?” He asks quietly, his grip firm, genuine concern in his face. Tommy must look like hell. 

“No.” Tommy admits, managing a crooked smile. “Not at all.” He turns fully towards Sal, his arm falling out of his grasp. Tommy takes a step forward, into Sal’s space. “Why do you think I’m here at this hour?” 

“Tommy.” Sal says, a hint of warning in his voice when Tommy takes another step into Sal’s personal space. “You know how it goes. It won’t make you feel any better.”

“I don’t care. Just- just shut up and kiss me.” Tommy gets so close their lips almost touch, his hands landing on Sal’s hips. “Please, Sal. If you- if you really don’t want to, don’t want me, just say a word and I’ll leave.” Tommy promises, though he doesn’t think he could handle a rejection well right now, when he’s already at his lowest. “But I need- I need you. Please.” He knows he sounds desperate, that’s because he really fucking is. He needs to feel something that’s not pain and heartache and sadness and so much self-hatred he could drown in it. For just a moment, he needs to feel good, at least physically. And it’s a guarantee with Sal.

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @louisferrignojr @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @doctorkinney @bucktommyscones @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @girlwonder-writes @dadbodbuck @loullaby @aringofsalt @actuallyitsellie @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @hyperfocusthusly @talktonytome @teenmaximoff @cornerofspace @tommybuckleys @kinard-buckley @perfectlysunny02

[graveltrapping]

Have the most random off shot AU for my Girl Max/Maxiel fic that has somehow transformed into a Queen of the Netherlands Max Emelia Verstappen???

Still young carting champion, wins everything she can, but instead of becoming an F1 driver at 17 she becomes the Queen of a whole country after Jos abdicates because of governmental pressure because of his bad rep or something similar. She trades in greasy race tracks, crash helmets and go-carts for military titles and the Crown Jewels. Is forced to oversee governmental issues and public relations as an emotionally stunted teenage girl instead of race death defying cars across the world. She hates it but has never in her life done something half send.

The Netherlands love her of course, how could you not, and she is a legitimate figurehead of state that the people have literally seen grow up into a powerhouse of a woman.

She never goes to Red Bull, Daniel never leaves, he’s gets his championships and they meet in passing maybe at the Belgian GP a couple times cause she’s still car obsessed, before Zandvoort is reintroduced in 2021 and CEMENTED in that calendar. It’s not leaving the roster till she’s dead.

They meet properly and they are mutually obsessed. They do a couple Hot Laps but Max drives, breaking many speed limits and stressing the whole country out, before Daniel wins the race and kisses her hand when she present the trophy. Flirting with the literal Queen of Holland on live national television. Max flirts back. The internet losses their mind.

33 Max Verstapen still somehow makes its way into existence.

[bowserbowser29]

The Guardian Angel

[emero0]

In relation to my “how dare project sekai have shows within a game that i wish were real” post i have decided to do the same thing lmaoo

And by that i mean ive had this cinematic universe in my head for a fic i need to write and part if it involves leo/need writing songs for the musical movie (think like how mary poppins has songs in it—old disney movies to reference something more popular)

Which has led me to wanting to write a song for the movie in my fic—

This is what my multifaceted brain gets me—multi media projects woooo