#giving you wondering rogue witch realness

[adore-blk]

I'm going to a medieval fair in 2 days, I'm so excited.

This is the base of my fit so far. I got some crafting to do!

I will try remember to take final product pics.

[aphroditesmoon]

Hi! I’m not sure if u do smut or not but I was wondering if u could do a Legolas smut with fem!human!reader, like a enemies to lovers kind of thing. Maybe hate sex? <3

too close

legolas greenleaf x reader

summary: legolas has his doubts about who you really are, but is that really why he can never meet your eyes with anything else but anger in himself.

warning: afab reader, nswf, smut 18+, etl, legolas being a jerk, probably bad description of mirkwood

a/n: soo sorry i took ages, I've been taking new meds, also i havent written smut for a while so im a bit dusty, hope u like it<3

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Summer is barely a real season under the protective courts of Mirkwood, you could barely feel the heat or see the sun through giantic starfall tree and at night, the chill through the strong winds gives a hint of winter in its air.

You loved it. Training at night feels easier when your not already sweating through your tits ten minutes in warm ups. And the quiet around you, save the crickets and owls hooting, gave you the solace you seeked for each existing day you lived through.

But despite finding everything well with want you asked for, the universe seems relentless with making sure you'll always be keeping your guard up and your annoyance up higher, with the ever consistent appearance of Prince Legolas Greenleaf.

He stands by the corner near an entrance to the castle, watchful of you while thinking he's quiet. His lack of trust in you makes him believe that you somehow lack in the specialties of elf abilities, like for example, your keen hearing.

"I could hear you for a mile away, prince." You also caught onto his snort, before his footsteps sounds louder. "How did you lnow it was me then?" He asks, less snobby than usual.

He must be drunk, you tell yourself.

"You have that pompous, all knowing kind of stride, it has its own beat when you walk." You expected him to roll his eyes like he usually do, belittling you like a child being reprimanded. But suprisingly he laughs. "That sounds a lot like you're projecting, after all, only pompous, all knowing arseholes are the ones who isolate themselves and train alone."

Ah, there it is. He's sobered up then.

"And what humble, kind enough of an elf, would waste his time stalking other people just to throw insults like a 7 year old?" You snapped.

If he had found your irritants amusing before, now his smile fades altogether,  and he looks the same as when he's about to pull an arrow on an orc.

"The kind of an elf who's trying to protect his kingdom and father." You laughed honestly yet mockingly before dropping your sword altogether to look at him. "You think your doing the king a favor? His majesty has his own mind, he trusts me, so I'd suggest you drop your savior facade and trust him." He shook his head and looks away for a second, as if deep in thought. "My father doesn't trust anyone, let alone random rogue elves who comes out of nowhere."

You raised you brow at his bravery in speech. 'This random rogue elf is the reason your father is alive, if I had even a glimpse of malice in me, I wouldn't have done nothing but serve him well for the last 10 months." You say matter of factly.

And before he could argue again, you wave your hand at him annoyed, and turn your back at the prince. "I practise better when im alone, and now you've ruined my peace, if you don't have anything new or smart to say-"

"You are a witch." He speaks. You actually freezed for a moment, forehead frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"He repeated his impossible words. 

"Im a witch...because i saved your father's lives?" You ask him, slowly. He looks more frustrated then ever, as if you're the one patronizing him.

"No, you are a witch, because you have bewitched him." You could laugh if you didn't want to punch him. "And how have I bewitched him?" You almost yell. "I don't fucking know!" He yells first.

"My father has never trusted anyone, except for me, yet i see he'd put his life in your hands if he has to. And you know that, you know what you are doing. How you win his praise and trust when you fight, and when you put yourself over him, over the other shooters, martyring yourself."

Your mouth was wide open, your brows furowing, but no words escape you as he continues, inching closer with every word, untik you're both a step away from eachother.

"And you know exactly what you do to me." He was hovering over you, with a glare so intense you've never seen from the mirkwood prince. "I've done nothi-" He cuts you off when you've just gained enough control to speak. "You've bewitched me."

His breath was steady even in such anger, fanning your face gently as he inhales and exhales.  "I don't trust you, and i shouldn't care too much of another fighter in our army, another stranger i shan't waste my time on. Yet one glimpse of you, and you're stuck in my head, like a memory i can't seem to forget."

he was silent after the last confession ends, and you have the stubborn urge to answer to him. "That sounds like a you problem, not mine." He gives a short bitter laugh, looking up to the sky for a second, as if praying to the stars for guidance. "What have you done to me, cruel enchantress."

The rage seemed to lessen in the glare he still holds at you, but something more hungry lays in his gaze. "I've done nothing. Im no witch." You answer, so over all of this cat and mouse game. "And if I was, I wouldn't waste my time on someone so frustrating like you, and your stupid perfect nose, going around acting like you're-" He cuts you off, closing the small space between the two of you with his lips.

It was persistent, the way his mouth pushed over yours, like a strong wave crashing over sands, forcing it to feel the same surge it's being held againts.

When your hands finally found its strength, you place them againts his chest, pushing him off, he startles and moves a step, eyes locking with yours.

His hands that were once on each sides of your face, falls down to his side, fingers flexing as if too empty now. "I hate you." He says. His eyes saying the opposite. Your mind repeats over and over of what he had done and you tell yourself that it can't get any worse or better than this, so you took a move yourself forward, standing on the ground he was on a second ago.

"Then why don't you show me how much."

You don't hesitate to pull his face towards yours, recreating the similar scene as before. His hands move to wrap around your waist, while yours tangle themselves in his untied long white hair.

You gasp when his tongue licks over your bottom lip, giving him what he wanted, your tongues clashes as you two continue kissing eachother like you're out of air. You don't flinch when he backs you up until your back meets the flat of a wall.  His right hand starts to fliddle with the laces tying your leather top on. You help him take it off before your own fingers helps him take his breeches of while he moves his lips to your neck.

"I like you better with your hair down." You manage to gasp out while he's sucking on your neck. "And I like you better with your mouth shut."  Legolas replies before his hands easily turns you around your face meets with the wall.

You barely hold on to the wall when his grip on your hips tighten, your own training tights pulled down before you felt him againts your back.  You squirm and let yourself grind againts his hardness when one of his hands move to your front to squeeze your breasts, flicking your nipple, gently moving lower then from your chest to yoir stomach, grazing your scar filled abs until it gets lower to where you want him the most.

He's still squeezing your left hip while rubbing his hard cock againts your ass.

Finally as he sinks into you without notice,  receiving  a loud whimper from you, his hand over your hips move to grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back againts his chest. His right wandering fingers were still againts your front, rubbing circles on your thighs.

You're too speechless, feeling yourself filled up to the brim by him. He doesn't move at first, head laying low by your neck, hot breathing againts your cheek. You almost cry when he slowly pulls out, until he pushes himself in again, harder tham the first thrust.

He doesn't stop them, pushing into your hole repeatedly, his hands moving up from your thighs to your clit, rubbing over it with a pace that wanted to make you scream.

Legolas finally regains enough strength to start biting and sucking on your neck, marking you, while he doesn't stop pounding into your wet cunt.

The fullness of his cock and pressure of his fingers makes your cunt tighten againts him, he lets out a growl you've never heard if the elf prince before he bites down your sweet spot harshly, making you scream out his name. "Fucking hell." He groans out, fucking out all his pent up anger and tension over you.

.Your hands feels slippery againts the wall, gripping againts nothing while he takes you like a ragdoll, manhandling you take his cock over and over, watching you turn into a crying and moaning mess.

"Legolas, please- uh." You mewl out to him He hears you, pleased he is as he lets out a grin againts your neck. "Please what, my love?" He asks huskily.  Love, thats a new one.

"Need to come-" You beg out to him.  And Legolas, for all his false pretense of hostility before, could never say no to you.

He pushes your face againts the wall again,  both of his palms now back to each side of your hip, tightening againts them as he plunges himself harder inside of you as you scream out his name, shameless of who could've heard them. Your nipples grazes againts the hard bumpy walls, oversensitive to everything now,  you clench againts him so tightly that you could hear him curse out in elvish as he holds on to your bruised sides.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes as he continues fucking you while you explode all over him, your orgasm leaking out of your cunt, all over his leg. "Argh- im going to-" He doesn't finish his words as he finally cums after you, his hot cum leaking into your hole and then lower lines on your arse.

His head leans on your back, his breathing rapid and sweat glistens you both.

Legolas pulls you back by your breast, letting you rest on hus chest while the two of you try to regain some air. His fingers grazing the valley of your tits, head stuck on the side of your forehead. Once you've calmed down from your high, you tilt your head towards him, relishing his warm arms around you.

He leans forward, letting your forehead meets. You let out a small smile.  "Now what?" Your voice gentler then expected. "Now-" He answers, voice hard. "-I'll take you to my chambers, and I'm fucking you again."

[toastling]

Ever wonder what would've happened if The Owl house aired in 2013?

That's right.

We would have had an OWLSTUCK.

They would've been rendered accordingly and there would've been a short-lived comic spoken of fondly by both fanbases.

Anyway here are some kids and their classpects.

Luz Noceda - Page of Light. Duh. Most obvious one on this list. You *could* make a very strong argument for Page of Hope too, but aside from her name literally BEING Light, I think it fits a bit more. Too bad you can't multi-aspect. Though let's be real, if anybody COULD, it would be Luz Noceda, so who knows, maybe that's her special Snest (in-world Sburb variant) given gift.

Amity Blight - Witch of Breath. Breath is a lot to do with one's self in the sense of self-actualization and understanding. She needed a lil help getting there but I feel Amity fits this quite well!

Willow Park - Mage of Life. In Homestuck, Life as an aspect is most closely tied to healing, but it can also be quite literal, as we do see Life aspected characters resurrect dead friends. I think if any aspect would allow one to wield life in the most literal sense via battle plants, it'd be, well, Life!

Gus Porter - Seer of Mind. This is a class and aspect wombo combo that fits him to a goddamn T. He's far sharper about others thoughts and natures than people think, including himself. Learning to trust in his intuition is his arc. He has a pretty good grasp of others, even if he does tend to try to focus more on the good bits than the bad, even when the latter may be pertinent.

King Clawthorne - Prince of Blood. Literal royalty in name and nature, with the Blood of the Titan running through his veins whether he realizes it or not. A Prince is an active destructive class with incredible offensive capability, one that destroys its aspect or through it, in this case, Blood. As a Titan, that potential is there for King. But we know the little guy wouldn't use it unless he had to. Right?

Hunter - Heir of Time. Of all the characters, no one fits the aspect of Time better than Hunter given his relations and just how many of him have existed throughout the ages. And as for Heir, I mean, could it be any more obvious?

Vee - Sylph of Space. Conceptually, Space means a lot of things in Homestuck, and is seen by the fandom as one of the "fundamental" aspects. A common theory is no game has a potential to win without both a Space and Time player. But one thing Space represents is Form and Boundary. It is the amorphous stage the play of reality is set upon. What better for a shapeshifter? Sylphs are essentially a Healer class.

Masha - Rogue of Doom. A Thief steals for their own benefit, and a Rogue for the benefit of others. Masha Stole Doom from the entirety of her Reality Check Summer Camp crew, *especially* Vee, giving her her very first friend, potential crush, and a new home and lease on life.

The Collector - Lord of Void. He is Everything and Nothing and can create or uncreate both at will. The Lord embodies their aspect to the absolute. They are a Master class, all-powerful and uncontested in their domain. He is a leftover from a previous game of Snest, one played between just two people, the other, of course, being...

Papa Titan - Muse of Life. We've never seen an adult play any variant of Sburb. But to deal with the Collector and his games, I think he may have had no choice. A Muse, too, is a Master Class, but far more passive. The Titan is how all life in the Demon Realm exists. The Titan *is* the Isles. How much more Life-aligned can you be? And as effectively just a corpse at this point, obviously, he's pretty passive.

Emperor Belos - Knight of Rage. A perfect mastery of his aspect to both directly harm and to manipulate, a truly terrifying foe. Again, adults aren't normally players, but, you better believe he's the reason this whole damn apocalypse happened in the first place.

Boom wrote that up in like 20 minutes, welcome to my special hell.

If by chance somebody actually *likes* this and wants more for some godforsaken reason, I'll give the kids a strife specibus too.

[maedelin]

Negative Romys (bc I know there must be chill ones out there) @ Roguneto in Xmen 97: “NOOOOOO HOW COULD THE WRITERS DO THIS AND DESTROY ROGUE X REMY?! POOR GAMBIT!!!”

Me: *side-eying all of the Marvel material that clearly shows that Romy content severely outnumbering Roguneto content by a landslide and the same Roguneto content winding up being ruined anyway by later writers just because they can* “Ah, yes…poor Gambit…”

All jokes aside, I wonder if the Romys’ concern is that if Roguneto is positively received = somehow becoming canon in the comics later? Because I know Marvel (and DC) has a history of taking a few things that the movies/shows/ side comics have done that were well received by fans or were anticipated to be well received ahead of time by fans and sometimes the companies themselves and incorporating them into the comics later

(ex. X-23 from X-Men Evolution to actual comics, Tony Stark’s personality eventually just becoming Robert Downey Jr as a comic book character, Samuel Jackson!Nick Fury from Ultimate Marvel to MCU to secret son of original Nick Fury and goes by the same name, Magneto’s Helmet protecting him from telepathy in Xmen First Class Movie to comics, Comic!Rogue’s real first name being a combination of her movie self’s name and that actress’s first name, Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver not being related to Magneto after all bc their movie selves weren’t, Gwen Stacy’s fun alternative existence as Spider-Gwen/Woman , Miles Morales’s (yay!) existence, Tom Hiddleston’s portrayal of Loki influencing the comic version of him to become a sad little meow meow, Age of Apocalypse’s version of Changling/Morph being brought into X-Men 97, etc)

, but if one truly counts all of the slight/significant changes Marvel Comics have made to the main timeline because of other material, it’s REALLY not a lot.

There’s no need for anyone who ships Romy (which I also ship in addition to Roguneto bc yay multishipping!) to feel threatened by potential romantic alternatives.

And just in case the romantic ships might be altered after all (not likely): if the Multiverse is a thing, maybe we consider it’s not the end of the world if the relationships in the X-Men animated universe is not 100% going to follow how they played out in the comics.

ALSO also, when all else fails, they can just develop their writing/art skills and make fix-it aus 😆

The chaotic neutral part of me actually kinda still hopes that enough people with get on board with Roguneto though so that the comics will see the enthusiasm for them and bring them back in the main universe and shake things up again or in one of the official alternate universes and give them the love and respect the pairing deserves 🤪

I really appreciate your comments. I suppose there could be concerns from the Romy contingent regarding this. Sadly, I think at this point corporate IP is too dedicated to keeping the status quo maintained as it is for the longest time.

I agree with you, I see her relationship with Magneto as brief trysts in the mainstream universe, and an occasional AU marriage reveal. I think that Rogue and Gambit will remain a couple in the mainstream universe despite this current twist in the '97 series. There's too much time and money spent into the material, merchandise, and story that's been built for Romy in reality across various media, and in the perception of people's memories which sometimes have a rosy nostalgic glow. It takes a lot to re-educate an audience and I don't see corporations having that time and patience.

Jean and Scott will always remain together. Meggan and Brian are a duo for all time. Sue and Reed Richards are going to stay married.

No matter what, the story will always return to that. In this reboot, I think it's to give Magneto an extra angle and further reason to stay at the mansion if you leave in doubt his and Rogue's activities on and off camera.

I think my biggest complaint is how there's a circling of the wagons around Rogue when anyone (but particularly Magneto) is interested in her. It frustrates me because I believe characters should experience a lot of different relationships. It builds for a more well rounded person in reality, and a better character in the story. But with Rogue, why isn't she allowed to have other romantic encounters? Why must there be a strange arguments about age, about experience? These are traumatized beautiful people with fancy abilities in a soap opera. With capes. (And occasional opera gloves)

In short, I believe that instead of one ship, a character deserves an armada. I agree, alternate universe pairings would be fun too!

I too enjoy drama and can't wait to see how the show plays out this romance.

[salarta]

Do you have any fun facts about Lorna?

I mean, fun fact here is dependent on what the focus is meant to be. On the meta side of things:

Second woman to join the X-Men

Started out more feminist than Jean, before later writers and editors screwed her over

One of the first, if not THE first, case of mutants combining powers to do something great (flinging Krakoa into space, after powered up by Storm, Cyclops, and Havok)

Has a history of being the first to do or introduce something interesting, then people at Marvel giving those things to other characters because they seem to think she doesn't deserve them (latest case being X-Men 97 letting Rogue take over all the Genosha genocide storyline while Lorna was completely left out of it)

Has existed since 1968

Didn't get her origin story told until 44 years later, vs Havok getting his told back in the 70s

Didn't get to lead a team as its intended leader until 46 years later (All-New X-Factor) despite having taken on replacement leader roles for decades prior

Despite past stories saying Lorna has the potential to be her father's equal, already was his equal, or surpassed him at various points, and in violation of its own rules, the Krakoa "era" Omega classification said Magneto was an Omega mutant but insisted Lorna wasn't

That's a handful of that kind. But if you want fun facts on the more playful side of things:

Lorna COULD use her powers to use the internet, use pseudo-psychic powers (e.g. telepathy, influencing memory), affecting visual spectrums, put out fires and more. Lots of modern research and applications for her powers that go beyond flinging metal around.

We've never seen Lorna's adoptive parents, the Danes, and the only direct thing we know about them is that they adopted her after her mom and stepfather died. Though you do have to wonder why Lorna would feel the need to hide her green hair prior to learning she's a mutant, and why she never put two and two together that it must mean she's a mutant.

There was a short what if strip at one point that basically suggested that if Lorna had been on the space ship that had been the impetus for Jean connecting with the Phoenix Force, she could have guided the ship from the inside and the whole Dark Phoenix saga could've been avoided.

Lorna very briefly had a red and gold uniform that got nixed because of real world attitudes that it was "too showy" for her. Think the uproar over Sue Storm having that Fantastic Four costume with the 4 boob window, but even tamer.

Fantastic Force in the late 00s presented an AU far future descendant of Lorna named Psionics, which was the first occasion of seeing a character based on her genetics.

There's a lot of in the gaps headcanon stuff out there for various periods and depictions. Like, one I've thrown out is that perhaps the godawful panels of Lorna afraid of Sabretooth and wishing Havok would save her could be explained as Malice already possessing her and being an asshole by pretending to be Lorna while acting that way. Or that perhaps some of her actions like getting with Havok happened because Xavier used his powers to put them together out of fear that she would otherwise become like Magneto.

If you're new to Lorna, you should know the coffee thing is entirely new. It started with Duggan writing her on X-Men after she won the X-Men vote, and while it's a fun quirk, sadly some writers started to misuse it by making that her whole character instead of exploring meaningful things with her.

Dauterman's said before how Lorna's energy hair in Dark Seduction partially inspired Scarlet Witch's hair for the Hellfire Gala.

To my knowledge, Lorna was the first character to utter the now famous words "Magneto Was Right" within a flashback to the Genoshan genocide.

There's some debate as to whether or not Lorna was the first character to have a secondary mutation, which tends to be attributed to other characters. This is based on when Zaladane stole her powers, and she ended up with entirely different ones. For my money's worth, I don't think of those powers as actually Lorna's. I headcanon that they were powers forced on Lorna by Zaladane to hurt and humiliate her.

Lorna's currently the youngest living child of Magneto.

I can't think of anything else at the moment. I might add to this if I think of more, and I encourage other fans to toss things in too.

[trojanteapot]

INFINITY TRAIN CLASSPECTS 

In this post I will be merging my two "hyperfixations" / "special interests" by assigning Homestuck Mythological Roles (a.k.a. Classpects) to some of the Infinity Train characters.

What the fuck is a Classpect?

Classpects are like Zodiac signs or Hogwarts Houses except excruciatingly convoluted, because it’s from Homestuck. I will attempt to simplify them as much as possible. 

Basically every character receives a title in this format:

[Class Role] of [Aspect]

which, in Homestuck canon, gives the character sweet reality warping powers!

Some examples include the Witch of Space being able to shrink entire planets, or the Heir of Breath whipping up tornadoes out of nowhere! One of the coolest examples in canon was the Rogue of Void can steal non-existence from an object and make it real!

But the titles are also assigned based on a character's personality, goals, how they interact with others, and their overall character arc. And because they are Zodiac-adjacent, it also means that classpects can be applied to any sort of character in any media in existence.

Why are you doing classpects for Infinity Train you cringey Hussie simp?

First off, I don’t care for Andrew Hussie beyond the fact that they authored Homestuck, and one can certainly argue it wasn’t entirely on their own. This is an irrelevant tangent.

Secondly, both the video game Sburb in Homestuck, and the Train in Infinity Train are essentially character arc generators. 

This means it’s extremely straightforward to assign classpects onto these Train peeps because their character arcs have been spelled out for us, in the same way that Sburb spells out the character arcs for the Homestuck characters when they play the game.

SUMMARY OF CLASSES

A Class determines how a character is, or acts, or behaves, they are analogous to D&D classes. This system is based on the one developed by @optimisticduelist2 and @homestuckexamination

Role Active Passive Description*

Create Maid Sylph Create or Mend for self / others

Destroy Prince Bard Destroy or Subdue for self / others

Change Witch Heir Change or Manipulate for self / others

Know Mage Seer Understand or Learn for self / others

Give Page Knight Give or Serve to self / others

Take Thief Rogue Take or Steal for self / others

*Note: Just because a character is in a passive or active class does NOT mean they must ALWAYS use their aspect in a selfish or selfless manner!

SUMMARY OF ASPECTS

Aspects are analogous to classical elements (Water, Earth, Fire, Air, etc). They come in pairs that counterbalance each other like Yin and Yang. I also try to summarize their core concept in as little words as possible. (Note if you are using the dark theme some of the font colours might not show up properly. Just highlight it if that's the case.)

Space - Creativity Time - Inevitability

Light - Knowledge Void - Mystery

Life - Abundance Doom - Futility

Hope - Faith Rage - Chaos

Mind - Motives/Decisions Heart - Identity/Emotions

Breath - Freedom Blood - Bonds

***Key point: Thinking about the character’s Character Arc is the best way to classpect them!!!***

If their character arc revolves (mainly) around themselves, they are an ACTIVE class.

If their character arc revolves (mainly) around other people, they are a PASSIVE class.

CHARACTERS AND THEIR CLASSPECTS

Tulip Olsen – Mage of Light

“One who knows Light for themselves.” 

Tulip gained the most knowledge of the Train other than Amelia out of the main characters, and her understanding of the Train (the world around her) as well as her own issues allowed her to free herself from the Train. Her knowledge inadvertently led to a better Train system through her teaching her knowledge to One-One (mages are great teachers).

You may be wondering, if her knowledge also benefited others, why is Tulip a mage and not a seer? That’s because Tulip took the initiative to seek the knowledge of her own volition (i.e. actively), and is more open to accepting and assimilating new knowledge. 

Seers on the other hand, receive a ton of knowledge passively, but it takes them time to parse the amount of information, and seers tend to struggle to understand the meaning behind the information they receive (Rose, the Seer of Light in Homestuck suffered the brunt of this early on, and Terezi, the Seer of Mind, had this struggle in the middle to the end of the webcomic. Also see the entry for Simon).

Amelia Hughes – Maid of Doom

“One who creates Doom for themselves.”

I don’t think I need to explain the ‘creating doom for herself’ part of Amelia’s whole schtick, since doom is tied to futility and suffering. However, looking more deeply into it, you can say that she has created so much suffering on the Train that to make amends (hehe mends), she needs to go and fix the mistakes she made, thus also mending her own Doom and mending through Doom. 

By taking Hazel in, not only is she mending the doom that she had brought onto Hazel by creating her in the first place, but she also averted Hazel’s doom by saving her from Grace and Simon. [non-canonical tangent: in my fanfic, she helps Simon realize what his issues were, thus averting his doom as well].

In addition, Doom is tied to technology and systems, and Amelia is an engineer, and if you buy my idea that the Train itself can be seen as an Agent of Doom, or even the embodiment of Doom, then her creating Train Cars to reenact her past life (also an act of futility) also falls very much in line with Maid of Doom. Also she is basically MADE of doom as the False Conductor.

Lake – Thief of Breath

“One who takes Breath for themselves.”

Lake wanted freedom from their existence as a reflection, and then they wanted to be free from the Train like a passenger can eventually be. Lake wasn’t afraid to get their hands dirty in order to obtain that freedom as well, something thieves are prone to do. We see them try to trick Tulip in the Chrome Car in order to escape from the mirror dimension, and they also full-out killed a cop they were handcuffed to so they could be free.

Jesse Cosay – Knight of Blood

“One who serves Blood to others.”

Blood is tied to bonds in terms of the bonds we create between people, i.e. family and friends. Jesse’s key issue was that he was giving too much of himself to his toxic friends and his swim team that he hurt his little brother in the process, and he needed to learn to give in a healthier way. 

He also in a sense has to ‘set boundaries’ with others too, and not get too influenced by peer pressure. Finally, the most important use of his aspect was he was able to free Lake by offering (giving) his friendship (blood) to them.

Grace Monroe – Witch of Heart

“One who changes Heart for themselves”

Grace is basically the queen of putting on masks in order to get what she wants from others. She acts in a friendly and understanding teacher/guardian manner to the younger Apex kids, but in a cool girl big sis kind of way to Jesse in order to convince him to join the Apex. So not only does she exhibit the changing of identity, but also to change how others feel about her, both to her own benefit. She is really the most “herself” only with Simon.

Grace’s entire character arc is centered around her having a ‘change of heart’ too, re-evaluating and changing her whole identity once she found out she was wrong about numbers and denizens. She will then change the hearts of the Apex kids as well, changing the purpose and identity of the Apex.

Simon Laurent – Seer of Mind

“One who knows Mind for others.”

You're probably rolling on the ground with laughter right now. Believe me I was too when I thought of this. But let me explain.

Because Simon’s arc ended in his tragic death, then we need to see what he did wrong in order to figure out his classpect. Simon’s troubles started when he rejected new information about the Train, when he refused knowledge. In addition, he was so sure of his own correctness that he couldn’t properly understand Grace’s motivations and couldn’t predict her decisions. He forcibly peered into Grace’s private thoughts for himself, and then came to the entirely wrong conclusions. 

He was, in essence, completely unaware of the minds of others, and thus blinded himself to the truth. Thus, he is the Seer of Mind. 

We can therefore imagine that if his character arc had run its course not to tragedy but towards self-actualization, he would have become somebody to understand other’s minds, and to know his own mind for the benefit of others (cough my fanfics coughcoughcough). This will not be easy for him, because as mentioned before, Seers receive information very naturally but struggle with understanding it and synthesizing it into a coherent whole.

It is also possible he was exercising some of his knowledge of mind in a positive way by being the Apex’s second in command, as he was the strategist to Grace’s commander.

Ryan Akagi – Heir of Space

“One who changes Space for others.”

Ryan is a creative spirit, with his eyes to the stars. He’s always making plans to spread his art to the whole world. He is driven but in a way where it seems like creativity is driving him, and he is just along for the ride. 

Yes, music is normally associated with time, but Ryan isn’t cynical, dwelling on the past and worrying about the future. He is a guy that’s in the present moment. Plus, his gigs include lots of theatrics and visuals… when he is able/allowed to accomplish that of course. So this aligns his musicality more towards Space than Time.

He inspired Min-Gi to follow his artistic pursuits. He also finds creative solutions to Train cars that his companions didn’t see (especially the Art Gallery Car, where as soon as he found the solution he literally changed space). He definitely fits the ‘driving inspirational force’ that Heirs are for others.

Min-Gi Park – Page of Hope

“One who serves Hope to themselves.”

Min-Gi didn’t have faith in himself and his musical abilities. He dreams of being a musician but he did not ‘believe in himself’ enough to follow that dream. In the end, he had to have faith in his abilities, to allow himself to hope for the future that he wants. Pages also have very slow progression rates, and Min-Gi certainly fits that; not understanding his true calling until his best friend/crush accidentally dragged him into several repeated life or death situations in another dimension. 

[Non-canonical note: Min-Gi having the Hope aspect could be why I headcanoned him and his family as religious for my fanfics (Hope is very much tied to spirituality and religion, and the hope symbol is a pair of angelic wings for crying out loud). And also apparently that was a lucky thing I did because Korean-Canadian immigrants in the sixties were all just missionary families sponsored by the Presbyterian Church!]

REFERENCES 

Homestuck Character Classes (Most Official Fanon): https://homestuckexamination.tumblr.com/post/175472060924/homestuck-examination-classpect-analysis https://mspaintadventures.fandom.com/wiki/Class

Homestuck Cosmic Aspects (Canonical): http://hs.hiveswap.com/ezodiac/aboutaspects.php

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Random Things Dr. Cimmerian Said Asleep

Dr. Cimmerian is, first, typically a ray of sunshine. Second, he has a bad habit of dozing off while reviewing reports. And drooling on a few here and there. He does say some weird shit while asleep, I blame the copious amounts of coffee everybody consumes. Once more, without context!

"Peaches? With long pork? Pushing the boundaries of fine cannibal dining I see, Ferdinand. I'd suggest some shiraz or a nice zinfandel."

"Yoshi! Put down that D-Class right this instant! He's a very boring serial killer. The nice Chaos Insurgency guy next to him would taste better, not that we condone a humanitarian diet here."

"Dyo, honestly... the crinoline is outdated with good reason, namely it's too damned impractical. Stick to corsetry."

"Eighty kilos of gunpowder, twenty kilos of iron nails, a further twenty kilos of roofing tar? In her skirts? I've heard people say 'If I'm going to die, you're coming with me!' before, but... that's hard-core. No wonder they stopped burning witches after that. Woman was a massive legend, but not a witch. A REAL witch wouldn't need all that to make burning her a bad idea."

"Clef... your ex... Woman has an entire magazine warehouse of issues. And you put your junk in the crazy. Never. Sleep. With. The. Crazy."

"Dad? Why is the beer growing mushrooms?"

"AAAAAHHH! WHO THE UNHOLY HELLS GAVE 096 A FUCKING CLOWN SUIT!"

"Put down the cake knife and walk away, Dr. Bright. You knew when you asked Mabel for German chocolate what you're in for. Besides, you could just hit her with her own terrible cake. Not that O5 would condone that, of course."

"Uh... Ben? Is it me, or are the daisies staring us down?"

"We actually nailed jello to a tree once. Clef bet Kondraki $200 he could figure out how it's done. Benny almost ate his sword over that one. Turns out you can do it, provided you simply nail the unopened box to the tree."

"Cain, can you locate in the notes where anyone asked Dr. Matthieu for his opinion?" A pause. "Nowhere? Huh. As I thought. Thank you."

"Whomever said you couldn't herd cats never was at my Aunt Martha's house. All she had to do to herd cats was just touch the food bag, and every cat in her house came running."

"WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO FEED THAT POOR IDIOT TO 682? He's going to get an upset stomach."

"Uh... Agent Dimitriov? I think you might have forgotten part of your uniform. Aren't your knees cold?"

"Are you sure we can't just yeet him out of the airlock when no one's looking? Yes, I know the spaceship is on Earth still, but it's far enough off the ground for terminal velocity to become a factor. Just push him out of the vent."

"You hit the Scarlet King in the junk, with a hammer? And survived? Okay, Abel... I take it back. You're not just a Semetic badass, you're THE Semetic Badass."

"How? How in the hells did you manage to shoot yourself in the back with no one else around you in a sealed room? The fuck you mean, 'The Invisible Man has a gun?' Admit it, you had someone shoot you to get out of Peanut-sitting again, didn't you?"

"Coffee. Extra large, heavy on the cream and sugar. No, larger than that. Larger." A pause. "What do you mean, you don't sell by the gallon?"

"Dr. Gears. This is the SCP Foundation. Sarcasm and pessimism are practically survival mechanisms here. Give the kid a pass."

"NOOOO! COME ON, WHAT THE BLUE FUCK DID OREGON DO TO DESERVE LENNY? YOU UTTER BASTARDS!" In the middle of a meeting with the Ethics Committee, eyebrows were raised, and coffee spilled.

"Run."

"I, too, would rather be under the sea, in an octopuses garden in the shade. You thinking what I'm thinking, my dive brother? Right. Let's leave these landlubbers and go hang with the fishes."

"Funny, 035. First, we can't KEEP you dressed, now you're out here looking like a weird ass male version of Rogue from the X-Men. Malicious compliance is acceptable, I suppose."

"You keep making poultry explode, Alto. Perhaps your charming assistant should give you cooking lessons?"

"WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE?!? AGAIN?"

"Screw the files! Don't let 999 burn! That little blob of joy is my only reason to live."

"That's it. Get me a team of ten really strong D-Class, a case of 100 mph tape, a tranquilizer gun fully loaded, the electric purple snow leopard furry suit in lost and found, and a camera. Let this be the last time anyone sees Bright butt in public."

"I'm not above blackmail and we both know it. Gimme. The. Pie."

"Simon? I think this might be above my skill level. Can you please get Dr. King to calm down?"

"I can't believe Agatha talked him into a mankini. Didn't need photo evidence though."

"WHO THE HELLS TAUGHT THE KETCHUP PUPPIES TO 'FETCH THE LEG'? Max? That's... honestly impressive. Pity about that guy from MC&D, though. He did have it coming, to be honest."

"You ran... the Bible... through the Clockworks? On "Very Fine". And, got basically over a thousand pages of 'Try not to be an asshole, mmmmkay?'. Experiment inconclusive. Run the 'Communist Manesfesto' through next, my accountant is curious."

"Why are you here? Basically, 343 likes a joke as much as the next person. Oh. You meant why are you in the Femur Breaker? Well, we gotta get 106 back in containment somehow. That's where you come in. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about this, you seem like a lovely fellow."

"They're just firing arrows at us. You have an SMG, shoot them back. Some MTF agent you are."

"He's dating THAT? I've seen less silicone in a RealDoll. And, better fashion sense, for that matter."

"Wait... hold the phone, Abel. You're older than Jesus, but never had a cannoli? Rabbit, my girl, this will not stand. Cannoli the man!" A brief pause. "I KNOW, RIGHT? Whomever invented the cannoli deserves a sainthood."

"Primitive and outdated concept on a crutch!" Preceded by a thump.

"New Bright List entry: 'Dr. Bright is no longer allowed to access the Cursed Clown Nose of Improbability under any circumstances. No, not even to prevent an XK Class Scenario.' Noted. This item #857, or 858? I lost track."

"WHAT kind of butter? Oh. I thought you said something altogether more horrifying."

"JULIAN, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUT! You forgot Quinn's birthday. Of COURSE you're in trouble for it. I got you covered though. They're still into lemons and tea, right? You're golden. Lemon blossom tea set, courtesy of the fine folks of Etsy. Pay me back on Friday."

[prismatic-starstuff]

Oh wonderful!! My woman* isn't super ready yet but I know a few things and I have a few ideas. For one, she'll be as feral as the game will allow me to be. This is a woman who SUCKS. Considering that, apparently, the elves are sometimes insultingly called "bat-face", I decided to lean into that and make her a bit bat-like. Not sure how much yet, that's...what I need to sketch out. But she'll have these unnaturally tilted very round beady eyes and very large ears. She'll be a bit tan and have a blond buzzcut because idk when I went "I think elves should look uncanny" I very vividly imagined a tanned wiry and lanky elven lady with pitch black eyes and very short hair. And I see no reason to change what my imagination instinctively thought of.

I'm thinking of playing as a mage, but also I'm pretty sure I want to be a mage in Veilguard and playing as a mage in both games feels a bit stale? So maybe I'll go for a rogue? But also being a mage in DAI feels like it could be juicy? So I have to think about that.

Personality-wise, I am undecided between two concepts and I'll go with whichever one the game will allow me to actually play out. In either case, she'll be absolutely rancid. If BG3 was fantasy Gnosticism, I'm sure DA can be fantasy Catholicism. If I just squint hard enough. I mean there are inquisitions, I can find a way to shove something catholic in there. Well it doesn't really matter, what matters is that there IS a religious system and that means there can be fanaticism. This character I'll be playing will either be the most fanatical person ever...or someone who just doesn't care but SEEMS like a fanatic, because it's the kind of person who will invite Jehovah's witnesses for a cup of tea and nod along as they monologue not because the person would agree but because they find it entertaining.

Honestly both of these routes are fine with me because both of them happen in real life but the actual fundamentalists and fanatics usually don't make it to the top because they care too much to ever get there. Like, most people who sit at the top of fundie spaces aren't actually in it for the love of the game, they're in it to win it. And it makes sense because you have to do a lot of things that go directly against your cause and your faith when you're at the top of such a space. So yeah.

I'm not sure what uuuh elf devotional tattoo, I forgot what they're called, I'll give her yet. I'm thinking either Mythal for the irony or Elgar'nan for it to actually fit. Can't decide if I want to go with the hilarious irony or not.

Also...the funny thing is...I don't think she'll be like...rancid in communication? Like...she won't be as friendly as my BG3 guy "Osob", but she won't be rude either, I think. It's like...she will be rancid, but it's the kind of rancid you see in a person only when they let their guard down and you realise "Wait hold up, this person I've been friends with for so long believes THIS???". But idk about that yet. Most of all I just want her to be a hungry rabid coyote staring at you from the dark.

So far I'm thinking of naming her Willa, derived from William Phipps who gave the go ahead for Salem witch trials, or Olivaria, derived from Oliver Cromwell, who didn't really have a hand in inquisitions but he was a fanatical piece of shit.

*yeah ok so about that. This is the part where I pull out a move the game itself can't handle so it has to exist only in my imagination. So yes, she will be a woman in Inquisition. But. I just think it'd be really funny if she realised that she isn't a she after the events of the game. Now you might be asking yourself why I'd bust out such a convoluted move. Honestly I don't know how to make this sound normal, but there are several factors at play here, the most important being that I need the inquisitor to fuck Solas (because I need to know what the deal is. I need to understand what's going on in this place.) (honestly not sure how I'll even manage that tho because I...I don't think anyone will want to romance this inquisitor. Who the hell would want this rat.) but I feel like it'd be funny to sorta game the straight-lock. Like "Oh, I have to be a female elf to romance him? Checkmate, my character just doesn't know that he's trans yet." And honestly the really petty person in me also doesn't want to be just another elven woman inquisitor with a bun. But also yeah I think it'd be really funny. Like all around. For everyone. Imagine you're the inquisitor and you think you're a cis woman and then the plot happens and right after everything is over you're like "...I think this journey may have unlocked something in me."

oooooooooh so i am late to this but i Absolutely love the concept; love a rancid individual, always super fun!!

my plan was also to have my lavellan be trans in veilguard and i am... legitimately sad about the fact that apparently that won't be possible according to a recent interview, but ah well; doesn't matter what bioware have to say about it, we write our own canon for our own characters!

i wish you and your inquisitor the best of luck in your solas-fucking adventures :3

[ask21771]

what your superhero crush says about you

Superman-you’re basic

Batman-you’re basic but you want to seem dark and edgy

Wonder Woman-you like strong principled women and/or are into s&m

Flash-you’re impatient

Green Lantern-you want someone who can literally give you almost anything

Aquaman-you have a fetish for fish smells

Martian Manhunter- you have a very dirty mind

Hawkman-you’re a history nerd

Harley Quinn-You’ve had to issue restraining orders  against all you’re past relationships (also you want a threesome with a lesbian couple)

Oracle-You’re into nerdy girls

Green Arrow-You’re basic but you didn’t want to look like a Batman bandwagon chaser (Also you remembered to watch the CW more readily then you’re loved ones birthdays)

Black Canary-you’re into screamers

Blue Beetle-You have a thing for lovable losers (Also you sent death threats To Geoff Johns, Greg Rucka, and Judd Winick multiple times)

Booster Gold-you either like him for his complexity or you’re as money hungry as he used to be

Nightwing-you want a male version of Nikki Minaj

Red Hood-You’re into bad boys with tragic pasts 

Red Robin-you hate how he’s still a teenager even though he’s been around for 31 years

Robin-Chris Hansen will be paying you a visit soon

Superboy-You were really glad that his wife and kid were retconned out of existence

Superboy-Prime-you have issues (srsly seek help)

Cyborg-you’re SUPER into vibrators

Beast Boy-You're a closted beastiality enthusiast  and you wish Raven would just die

Raven-you either are into strong assertive women, tragic women or a mixture of both (if it’s the version from the first animated series definitely both) you also wish Beast Boy would just die

Starfire-You HATE that her outfit got less and less revealing over time

Amanda Waller-You have ZERO self respect

Peace Maker-you’re either alt right have a John Cena fetish or both

Stargirl-You like the sweet innocent type  

Spiderman-You have zero self respect and zero regard for your life

Wolverine-You like Batman but with a bit of s&m throw in

She Hulk-you have several fetishes you don’t want anyone to know about

Hulk-you’ve got a real thing for angry sex

Jean Grey-you have issues with commitment

Rogue-if you could find a way to die in the sack with a smile on your face after a night of incredible sex you would

Spiderman (Miles Morales)-you want happened to the real Gwne to happen to Spider Gwen

Deadpool-You get yourself thrown into the behavioral health wing at hospitals just to get a hook up

Thor-you’re favorite place to get laid is Renaissance fairs

Scarlet Witch-you’re into the crazy dangerous type

Iron Man-now I ain’t saying you’re a gold digger

Mister Fantastic-You don’t care how your partner treats you

Daredevil-you believe love is blind

Fire-you want a threesome with her and Ice

Ice-you want a threesome with her and Fire

Catwoman-You want a relationship that’s like a roller coaster always going up and down

John Constantine-the phrase glutton for punishment was invented to describe people like you

Supergirl-you wanna fuck the homecoming queen

Power Girl-Do I really need to say what this says about you

Black Lightning-That one Young Justice episode awakened something in you

[meganmackieauthor]

I Can't Get the Vampire Rogue to Romance Me - Ch 3

Chapter 3

He was as gorgeous in real life (if this was real life) as he had been on the screen with short, white hair, an angular face, and a T-shaped body. There were plenty of scenes in the game that would show all of that off at dramatic movie-style angles.

Yet, if she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t his looks that attracted Evangeline to him. Of course, no one in her online friend group who also played the game believed her. The argument had always been that if he had been an ugly half-orc or something, he wouldn’t have been nearly as appealing to her. 

The truth was, she had hated him the first time she played the game. It wasn’t until he started talking about things that were real that her insides began to quiver. Things she recognized and understood about being used and attacked and forgotten. About being broken. 

Even now, as she gazed across the tavern room at him, leaning back in a chair with a goblet of wine in one hand, his other arm draped dramatically over the back of his seat, she saw the lie that his confident posture was. 

“Excuse me? Are we doing this deal or not?” the impatient voice said before her. “Jurli, you said she was a professional.”

“I assure you, boss…”

It didn’t matter what the henchman was going to say. This was just the opening tutorial mission. In fact, every class had one in the same tavern. As she turned about to sweep her gaze over the room, she could see each station at the various tables or in alcoves, like it was some kind of high school lunchroom. Rangers were at the bar, wizards in a corner amidst a small forest of their staves, druids were back-to-back with witches underneath the boughs of an actual living tree incorporated into the wall of the tavern, and so on. It was all very organized. 

Special Power: Meta Knowledge—activate.

And unnecessary. All of this was skippable in the game, but it wasn’t like she could just hit a command button to make it all go away. She was actually here. Actually, living it now. 

And, if you succeeded in this tutorial mission, you get a very good piece of starting gear, she thought. A +1 dagger, which getting an enchanted item this early in the game had made so many things so much easier. And all of its specialization slots were still open, so she could add more magic to it later when that became possible. 

“Alright, gentlemen and ladies,” Evangeline said, addressing the table as she pulled out the seat waiting there. “I don’t really want to spend a lot of time on this. You want the phoenix egg, and you are willing to pay well to get it. Along with everyone else in the room.”

“Are you sure we can trust her?” she said at the same time as the ‘boss’ character. 

“Like I said she’s a professional,” she also said along with the recruiter.

Both people blinked at her when they did it. 

She grinned mischievously. “Like I said boys and girls,” she said, leaning into the devil-may-care rogue character in the way she never would in real life. “I’ve heard and seen it all before. I’ll take your job.” 

Somewhere a chime sounded, but Evangeline seemed to be the only one who could hear it. 

“Excellent,” the boss said, leaning on the table with his hands folded. “This job will pay a thousand gold, half now and half upon delivery.”

Evangeline chuckled. She knew this part so well. “Right, and this is when I will say, ‘that’s not enough,’ and you will offer slightly more, then I’ll say no give me 2000, then you’ll say 150 and I’ll take it, so why don’t we just jump to the 150 reward and not waste both of our time. But if you give me a third of it now, and that special dagger I know you have, we’ll call it a deal.”

She sat there smugly, only to realize that everyone at the table stared at her in stony silence. They weren’t automatically going into the dialogue choices. 

Did I break them by skipping ahead? she wondered. She met each of their eyes and realized that there was nothing about them that felt … artificial. These were living breathing people, and all her false bravado bled away. 

Oh, crap. What did I do? she silently panicked. 

Then the boss laughed. 

Then the table laughed. 

And Evangeline’s shoulders dropped with relief. 

“You were right,” the boss said, slapping the recruiter saying words Evangeline definitely hadn’t heard before. “I like this one.” He reached into his belt and pulled out the dagger, a beautiful silver piece with a slight curve and a bronze-colored edge. The handle and pommel had swirly ruins that were supposed to be “elfish” in design. 

The table oohed and aahed at it, clearly more for the boss’s benefit than because they were truly amazed or anything. There had been a lot of these creatures at her job sucking up to the supervisor, but she did not want to think about that whole situation right then. 

Instead, she smiled with the group and leaned her elbow on the table like she knew this was what was going to happen. The boss slapped the knife on the table. “Then we have an accord, lady,” he said. 

She took up the dagger. I’m going to need to get a sheath, she realized, only to discover that on her belt was a sheath she wasn’t entirely sure was there a moment ago. Still, when she slid her new knife into it, it fit perfectly. “And the gold?” she said. 

The boss’s laughter dimmed to a chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes. He hadn’t liked being reminded. But every coin of that money would be useful in about five minutes. 

And sure enough, just as he set the bag to clink on the table, the room exploded. 

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[axl-ul]

The Flight of the Western Crane: Chapter Seven

(A reupload/repost of my fic/dark retellingof Journey tot he West because the whole AO3 site, where I originally posted this, got taken down for now)

(General info about this fic/wip/retelling is here)

****

The hot sun was burning his skin so much it started peeling off. Scars signed on his body as numerous cracks and opening wounds which would surely fester, sooner or later they’d attract bothersome insects, as well. Double eyelids unrolled back, vindictiveness setting everything on fire although the head didn’t stop spinning. Golden Wind Viper pulled out his long arms from beneath him and observed them, searching for any kind of injury and upon finding none he checked the rest of his crooked body. An unexpected strike to his unprotected chest made him hit the ground at full speed which spinned his aching head one more time while the air was knocked out from his lungs. Through his heavy lids Golden Wind Viper, the ruler of nothing but a bunch of scoundrels, felt the burning pressure around his eyes once the cold rounded piece of metal clang against his teeth. The iron-like taste filled the entirety of his mouth. Fortunately for him, only regular teeth were damaged. To save his sanity, he refused to wonder what his future would look like if his fangs were the ones to be broken.

“If I weren’t so weak don’t doubt that I wouldn’t get rid of you. That is your one and only luck.“ The metal staff rotated and the foot on his flat chest crushed everything beneath it,“But don’t let my need for assistance fill your hopes. You are running out of time and resources. And I am running out of patience. Don’t think of becoming an air-head. Am I clear?“

Golden Wind Viper could do little more than whine into the staff. The cloaked stranger with bright eyes spoke simply. His tone and demeanour could have been described as off-putting, at best.

“But I’m feeling merciful today,“ the stranger picked up the staff and stepped away. A skin hand stretched out in an offering, even welcoming manner. 

Golden Viper sized him up. He flickered the forked tongue,“Let me guess. You given’ me one last chance?“

“No. I’ll help you myself. Don’t give me that look. We have a deal. Although I’d love for it to end soon,“ the eerie man exclaimed as he was smacking his lips in between the ominous words,“it seems we still have a long way to go.“

The oddly upbeat behaviour infected the rogue snake. At the end, he took the offered hand. Wrinkles formed around the bridge of his nose from the forced face. Soon the grimace disintegrated, the real satisfaction received its chance to flood the snake. His army, or rather what was left of the group of mountain bandits, outlaws and scoundrels, stood right behind them, their gaunt spines twirling up until the scorching heavenly wheel wasn’t aware of the sleeping threat waking up from the long slumber.

“From now on, your men will track the monks down. I’ll be watching your every step even closer from now on so try to keep Tripitaka and his junior disciples unharmed. Sun Wukong shall be cut down solely by me. The Wolf Witch and the Princess of the Tiger Kingdom, let’s say I’m willing to let you at liberty. After all, your payment is about you becoming my right hand.“

“A pair of two beauties warming my bed sounds appealing, I admit that, sir,“ the viper's imagination flamed with the room of gold and red curtains, peonies masterfully embroidered into the fine silk. He then felt his right cheek tightening. He scratched his chin,“Although one could use covering her mouth while I’ll spank the other.“

Amber glimmer pierced him from under the hood. The stranger’s wrapped hand seemed to squeeze his for a brief moment all too much. Puff of hot air lifted the hood slightly which allowed Golden Wind Viper to spot a few freckles around the lips and small nose.

“Sir, before we venture forth I wanna know one thing.“

“Go on, viper demon.“

“Why are you doing this? I get that with your abilities,“ Gold Viper shifted in his place, the memory of a late night ambush, when the man in the cloak nearly got the better of him and majority of his men if he wanted to, played in the back of his head,“you certainly deserve the riches and fame.“

“I don’t want those.“

“What?!“

“Why would an eagle fly up to the highest peak if it can reach heaven?“

“You mean revenge, sir?“ The reptile’s shoulder lowered under the slim hand patting it.

“You’ll see one day. And you won’t believe your own eyes.“ An honest smile could be felt in those words. In what manner was it honest? Golden Wind Viper’s knees trembled once the wheels in his head started spinning. He’s gone too far to stop, any sort of return is now deemed impossible. A vision of gold plates full of coconuts and grapes shone alongside the jaded cups in the rhythm of heavenly music played by fifty beauties one is always willing to sin for.

The fiend chewed on the remaining piece of rabbit meat he managed to stick out from his teeth.“In a good or in a bad way, though?“

“That depends solely on you. But I’m sure you won’t be able to wrap your head around it. For now, I suggest we focus on our current goal.“

“That is to track out the Pilgrims.“

“You learn fast. Is there anything they could seek out help or to hide?“

Golden Wind Viper’s snout twisted. The last of pebbles rolled down the mountainside. A wild lightning of memories brightened the cave of his mind after he saw a stripe of gold vein weaving throughout the cold grey stones by his feet. “Yeah, boss,“ he directed his crooked smile at the odd man,“I know of one nice city out there.“

****

“So, Lady Wolf Witch, do I understand you right? You really aren’t an exception? That all people look like you there, in Fulin? All round eyes and strange hair? No offence, of course, Lady Wolf Witch.“ Wujing munched at the congee they were having for dinner. Not much was left after the ambush and kidnapping, not to mention the travellers’ hunger after hiding and sneaking through the tropical forest. Fortunately, Bajie found a small sack of rice he had once taken from Wujing. By accident, it must be added.

Exhaustion painted on their aching bodies which showed up in their relaxed poses. The whole group sat in a circle behind a massive rock with glittering yellow stripes, the tiny fire pit marking the centre of their attention. Even Mei who was getting more and more lively day by day stopped chatting, her eyelids were getting heavier with the time passing while she leaned against Márgerdra’s droopy shoulder. “I wouldn’t say everyone is fair-haired like me. There are people with red, brown or black hair, too.“

“Yet I bet my head you have the prettiest eyes around, Lady Márgerdra,“ Bajie joined in with his squeak. Initially, his remark was near sounding sincere, almost reaching the level of a nice compliment. Upon his gaze lowered to a significantly different body part the drool rushed down his chin in thick streams. A pool of his saliva appeared on his grubby vest.

Sharpened gaze fixated on Bajie who felt his heart was giving up. Firstly because of admiring the foreign beauty, now it was caused by her fiery attitude birthed behind her cold eyes. She raised her two fingers and pointed right at them, growling,“If so, they are right here.“

“Yes, yes. I know, my Lady,“ Pigsy rolled excuses on his tongue at an unbelievable speed,“right there, the centre of your cute face. But don’t worry, Her Highness is cuter.“

Shame fell upon the Master and his three disciples. Bajie earned a disapproving frown from his Master while Wukong and Wujing prepared their twigs to smash Bajie over his head at the same time.

Mei, although, woke up. She didn’t leave Márgerdra nor did she change her position. Her tired mind produced a simple but effective remark,“Thanks. If only you were cute, too, moron.“ After finishing and seeing the pig’s face brightening up in deep red colour, her satisfied face reverted away from the group and the girl went to sleep again. Márgerdra, as if there was an unspoken rule between the two, cocked her eyebrow and puckered her cherry lips, the only part of her makeup not ruined by the terrible weather and constant running.

“Lady Márgerdra, may I have a question for you?“

“Indeed, Venerable Tripitaka,“ the witch bowed her head coyly.

“I didn’t want to bring this up the first time we introduced each other so as not to be rude.“

Mei didn’t contain herself and pressed her soft hand over her giggling lips,“That’s alright, Tripitaka. Nobody can beat guards in my homeland with annoying questions.“ She cut herself off and sat up properly. She faltered and brought some words upon her tangled tongue,“By that I mean, you aren’t being annoying. Only the thought that you think of yourself that you are, Venerable Tripitaka.“

Sanzang’s warm smile rose up to his deep eyes, his full lips curling, the manner which puffed his cheeks up,“Don’t worry about your words. I understand.“ Kindness coming out of the young man made Mei blush and bury part of her pretty face in Márgerdra’s shoulder again. As the monk continued in uncovering his curiosity she slowly dozed off. “You are nearly as tall as I am, which isn’t so common here. Is it normal for your fellow citizens?“

“Many males are somewhat taller than you. However, the difference isn’t as drastic as you might think.“

“Males?“

“Excuse me, monkey?“

Wukong’s eyes shot up, his tail unwrapped from around his waist and its tip wiggled around. He noticed Bajie’s look. The junior disciple knew Wukong’s direction with his question and didn’t seem at all to share his brother’s eagerness to trick the witch. A spark behind the waterfall of Márgerdra’s lashes suggested the similar assumption. Unlike Bajie, she didn’t try to put up any sort of defence. All she did was let Wukong continue. This time, the Monkey King chose to postpone their yet another dance around the words. He needed a private place to get slightly more sophisticated. “Waves. I said waves. As in whether you have sea over there. Sea, beaches and such.“

“Yes, by the capital of Fulin there is a sea. Even further in the North outside the country’s borders. But in my original homeland you’d find snow and large plains, at best. Half of the year we get to live in a complete dark. During the other half, the sun doesn’t set below the horizon.“

“Plains with snow? Half of a year being a night only?“ Wukong scratched his chin and continued to chew on the strand of grass. “You’re from the Land of Darkness?“

“Land of Darkness? What is it, Brother?“ Wujing asked and without waiting for an answer, he himself grabbed the nearby bag with scriptures and buried his nose deep into the flood of pages and pages of scribbled notes. For they couldn’t afford to be discovered, their firepit offered little more than a dim light, yet for it was more than enough for the red-haired demon. Flattened fingertips slapped against his pate as he wasn’t able to find much information.

“Land of ice and snow far up the north, Brother.“

“They’re called tundras. But many of my ancestors ventured further south where the Three Tribes were established. Although, it should be noted,“ the witch’s hair stood up on her nape as she smelt out the rising number of questions in the air,“that I, personally, was born in southern regions. My family didn’t stick up with the rest of our tribesmen and we travelled from here and there on our own.“

“So you were nomads?“

“A little bit, Ol’ Sha. We had an old shed in the mountains. But our…our master had to travel from time to time and he took us, me and my sisters, with him.“

When Wukong thought he was finally being let inside the witch’s world, Sha Wujing’s arm shot up. “Lady Márgerdra, apologies for interrupting you. But here in my notes,“ he flickered through the pages of his old diary,“I see some nations have different assumptions about how the world looks like.“

“Well, this interests me, as well,“ Sanzang seated himself more comfortably and listened to the advisor’s experience from abroad, their debate whether the earth should be rounder or not bloomed in a friendly conversation as Márgerdra corrected Sanzang on the preciseness of using either the name Constantinople or Tsarigrad. The witch explained the principles of various tribes and nations viewing the world as a tree or that there are scholars who believe and speculate otherwise. Once she asked for an explanation from the monk himself, Sanzang didn’t hesitate to offer in knowledge and the two of them eagerly compared their own worlds.

Wukong, being the rascal he was, averted himself and pretended to groom the fur on his tail and feet instead. Once in the meantime, he glanced over his shoulder, though, to see how the conversation went. Listening closely, he, too, shared his Master’s eagerness to know more, only in a lesser merit. He caught his gaze lingering over the smiling blonde. She reminded him of wild fish swiftly diving deeper into the unknown waters, yet the witch did it gladly. Her eyes widened with sheer interest every once in a while when the monk was given the word.

As the monk and his younger disciples wished the women a good night and as Márgerdra excused herself for a moment, Wukong saw his chance. His light figure was sneaking right behind the witch. After waiting for her to be finished, he hung himself down from the maple tree he was sitting on,“Nice weather tonight, isn’t it?“

Márgerdra shrieked but quickly covered her mouth. Her terrified reaction was followed by anger,“Imbecile! My heart almost gave up.“

“Sorry for that. Had to find you sooner before you dozed off.“

“That doesn’t matter. Don’t you know it’s highly inappropriate to sneak up on a lady having a moment for herself? Especially at night?“

“Did you piss yourself?“

“Thankfully, no. Because that’s what I finished doing when you came.“

“Good,“ jumping down and clasping his hands, Wukong motioned for the blonde to follow him,“then we have a small talk ahead ourselves.“

“Again?“

“Aren’t you happy that I, such a handsome lad, am giving you a bit of my attention?“

“How tall are you again, gibbon?“ Márgerdra stuck up her chin, her arms placed on her hips, to tower over the Sage. The banter carried a significantly warmer and even rather jesting tone, contrasting their previous exchanges. Although, Wukong could never possibly forget his smug face.

“I’m a macaque. But good guess, blondie,“ he sat down on the fallen trunk covered with strange orange mushrooms and thick moss. The monkey could no longer resist the urge to stretch out. His form shivered as he relieved himself by cracking the whole spine and both arms.

On hearing his groan, the Wolf Witch made herself comfortable beside him, her voice raising in concern,“Are you alright?“

“What a stupid question. Of course, blondie,“ he snapped his head and cracked his knuckles, then finger after finger, everything doing on purpose to make the witch cringe more than ever.

However, he caught himself in his own trap. The witch gently touched his chin and directed Wukong to properly observe his face.“Sorry for that eye,“ she shot the Immortal a pitiful and regretful look,“I really thought you were a guard.“ Wukong’s left eye was no longer swollen but the purple around it persisted. She delicately traced its edges. Wukong wished for her to stop touching him. The sudden urge to bark at her filled his whole body, every strand of hair stood up, the face markings gave the demon an ominous look. But he knew Márgerdra would only laugh over his petulance.

“Could you stop touching my face?“

“You don’t want me to-“

“Not at all, witch,“ he quickly replied and hunched forward with one leg crossing the other, arms crossed on his chest as his index tapped furiously against his biceps. The pout drew itself across his face.

“Throwing tantrums again, dear Wukong?“

“All of a sudden you’re using my name. Is it so pretty?“

“Prettier than my eyes?“ She giggled to his ear, the teasing nature taking over. The Monkey King was prepared to growl but stopped himself. Turning to her, the monkey demon was welcomed by her smile. It was bright, sincere, accompanied by a playful wink. She was joking. 

Her clear intentions calmed him down. He paid back with a smirk of his own.

“Are you quoting him?“

Márgerdra pretended to be surprised,“Who?“

“Idiot. Bajie.“

“No idea what you’re talking about.“ The witch put elbows on her thighs and rested her head on the cupped hands. “Back on the serious note. Are you really fine? Like, your body aching, swollen joints or, I don’t know, sore muscles.“

“Not going to lie, blondie, I am a bit tired. But that’s alright. I’m used to tending by myself after all those years.“ He massaged his palm, thinking back to his younger days.

“Didn’t you have anyone? Parents, siblings?“

“You like to scream about various parts of my life whenever you feel like lashing out but this is a mystery to you?“

“I didn’t pay much attention out of spite, to be honest. Which is pretty much tasteless and disrespecting towards you.“ The Sage hung his jaw, no sound formed in his throat. His husky voice stuck on the tip of his tongue. The Lady Wolf Witch watched the stars above them, not paying a bit of attention to the demon sitting next to her. “Since your apology I’ve been thinking. I wasn’t in the right either. Many times, I admit. I should have told you more before all the kidnapping. I apologise to you, Great Sage Equal to Heaven.“

“Well, apology accepted, Lady Wolf Witch.“

“Apart from my words I offer a simple medical treatment, too.“

“What?!“

“‘Excuse me.’ Foremother, you’re going to need a few lessons on how to behave,“ she mumbled under her breath,“I said I’m going to give a small squeeze to your muscles.“

Wukong jumped in his seat,“No! Forget that. I’d rather live through another week of you calling me imbecile.“ Deep inside, Wukong cried out. All he wanted was to interrogate the witch for the last time, hopefully. But here he was, getting cornered and stumbling over his own words and plans.

“Fine, imbecile,“ Márgerdra rolled her eyes and added,“but I’m standing my ground. You’ve been fighting a lot and today wasn’t any easy on you. If you think I’m trying to get under your skin or be a sly bitch you’re dead wrong. I just…I just want our quarrel to be over and behind us. We promised ourselves a friendship. I want to show you I care about you and that I’m thankful.“ She leaned to him, her blue eyes locked with brown ones surrounded by tiny freckles. For a brief moment, she spotted a small twitch in his gaze. It wasn’t his usual shrug although he masked it as one by pulling away from her. “You’re afraid of being touched.“

“That’s it, blondie. You crossed the line this time. Me and being afraid is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in a long time. Are you laughing at me? Go to sleep.“

“I’m not, Wukong.“

They fell silent. Crickets played their songs and serenaded in the distance. Stars shone brightly and kept company to the Goddess of the Moon who watched all over the sleeping valley.

Wukong thought hard. He doesn’t want to back down but he had no wish to become someone’s scratching pet. He recalled their last time. An exchange for an exchange. This time, the friends are completely alone, the rest are sleeping tightly and safely tucked by the spell. The relationship’s improved since and he had nothing to lose but this one chance. The advisor was also right in his body needing a bit more care than what it’s received recently.

“You won,“ the monkey demon showed her back,“I’ll give your treatment a few minutes. I can tell you my origin, too. However, I got a condition. No. Two, actually.“

“Those are?“

“Only back and shoulders. Nothing more. And you’ll answer my question.“ The Wolf Witch sensed the inevitable was coming. But she went too far. Márgerdra sighed. 

She placed her hands on Wukong’s nape and pressed against the points she was taught by Mei. Wukong instantly reacted to her touch and shivered in response. “We have a deal.“

In spite of an expected monologue, the Monkey King fell silent. His mind raced as he formed the sentences before actually speaking up to his companion. Circles which pleasantly sank into his skin made his eyelids fall down. His forehead relaxed so much the fur covered the whole needle thin scar.

“I was born from a stone atop of a mountain. Yes, I claimed for the Earth and the Heavens to be my parents. But I’ve never had,“ he paused, searching for the right words to describe what fe truly meant, what he truly felt,“propre parents. No caring mother or a father. No one to nurse me. To put me to sleep.“ He exhaled slowly, not sure what he was trying to release. He wondered. Why does talking to her feel so natural, so easy? Her previous reasoning, the look she gave him. As if the intention wasn’t to use him or to make a laughing stock out of the old monkey. She wants to listen. But why?

The lack of the contact between his back and her hands bright the monkey back to reality. “Why did you stop?“

“Sorry. Your story reminded me of something.“ Although she cleared her throat, Márgerdra failed to fully cover the tremble as she spoke as she resumed the massage, now targeting his shoulder blades.

“Of what exactly?“

“Wukong, I don’t think I can tell you. Not yet.“

“You too?“

“What do you mean?“

“You don’t have parents either, right?“

She didn’t answer, however it was enough for the demon to understand. He felt like he should cheer the woman up. At least, that was what the others would do. Bai Long Ma, Daizi, Sha Seng, even Shifu knew how and when to comfort people. Only soulless Wukong made of stone knew nothing despite his wisdom. In the end, he could give it a try. “Hey, at least you aren’t as hairy as one parentless bastard.“

She slapped his back, sheer strength resonated within the movement. “Don’t say that, imbecile. Yes, I’m lucky to be beautiful and you have more hair than what’s nice. No, you aren’t a bastard. End of the discussion. Now go on. I want to hear the rest.“

Corner of his lip twirled up as his story unfolded further,“A group of monkeys found me and let me stay with them. We used to play a lot. Do various mischief. Bet each other to slide down the most dangerous hill. Or we ganged up to prank older monkeys in the group. Oh, damn,“ his hand clawed into the wood and his tail smashed the trunk so hard hundreds of cracks appeared around the two sitting people.

“Is it that good?“ Márgerdra smiled to herself. She knew she scratched the right spot. The woman was well-aware the graduating pressure against the root of the disciple’s tail sent shivers down his spine as a few vertebrae cracked.

After enjoying the pressure for a moment longer, Wukong finished,“One day, we were by a waterfall. I was told that whoever jumps behind it and comes back will become a king.“

“Knowing how self-confident you can be and what sort of title you possess, I assume you jumped.“

“Smart witch. I came back as the Monkey King then crossed seas and oceans to find the Way and the rest is history.“

“Nice one. To be honest with you, my life isn’t as interesting. Despite my sisters being my everything to me and our master taking good care of us, I wouldn’t call it as exciting as yours.“ Márgerdra went for the last strokes by going up once more and focused on Wukong's shoulders. The witch, not entirely pleased with the thought, had to admit she admired his physique to a certain extent. He had to work hard in the past and even today the demon doesn’t fall back on his practice.

“Even living the life of a demon?“

The question she feared so much finally arrived. Márgerdra caressed his nape but gave up and fell into another debate. “Ever so persistent,“ she whispered. Warm summer wind wrapped her hand which tenderly stroked her neck and collarbone, her lashes lowered in the rhythm of the rustling valley, the vest given to her clutched her chest the same way vines with flowers trapped the wandering moths. She stood up to walk in front of the simian. The pale moonlight coloured her yellow hair with a bright halo. Dirt, blood and sweat had shrouded the flowery scent, yet there was no need for that. The enigmatic aura turned Márgerdra into a living statue in the shadows of the tropical grove. “But I promised you a question I once refused. Yes. I am a demoness.“

The Monkey King, deeply satisfied with the result, smirked and brought his knee under his chin. “Let me guess further. May I?“

“Suit yourself.“

“Are you one of those annoying cat demons?“

“You threw the rock as far as you could have.“

“I’m a bit tired so pardon my brain for the blind shots,“ he lied down on the trunk, supporting himself on the right elbow. In the witch's eyes, the pose was all too careless even for such a cocky and bold person as was Wukong himself. “Then which one?“

“A wolf demon.“ A few strands of fair fur emerged around her glowing eyes. Márgerdra’s nose shaped into a blackened muzzle while her mouth remained human. Strangely, during that brisk moment when she revealed herself, Wukong spotted her demonic features were still rather delicate. 

Instead of an expected bark of laughter, the chill spreaded around. The demon king was its unmoving source. It cooled down the hot night in mere seconds though Márgerdra was certain Wukong’s skin was the polar opposite. “A wolf. You. A wolf,“ he murmured slowly. “An overgrown bestial pup with rabies.“ His hair bristled up when a canine howled in the distance.

“Besides having a problem with demons in general, is there something you’d like to tell me?“ she cocked an eyebrow.

“Not necessarily a problem. I’m just glad I figured out you’re a bitch.“

“Do you need some spice?“

“What?“ Wukong furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?“

“Your jokes are getting tasteless,“ the witch tossed hair head as she adjusted her long hair meanwhile the fur and snout turned human.

Wukong rolled to the edge of the wood and landed on all four. Standing up he straightened his finally relaxed back, relieved of any kind of pain and aching. “Which means I should go and get my beauty sleep. See you in the morning with better shots, blondie.“ Tall grass touched his thighs, crickets sang for the last time, fireflies accompanied his steps. Flowers filled the air with lovely sweetness and roots released the remaining humidity. Only the lion-like roar of a waterfall and with closed eyes it could have been a paradise.

“Wukong?“ Her suddenly shy voice made him turn back,“Can we keep this a secret, please? Mei doesn’t know.“

“Shifu, Bajie, Ol’ Sha, too?“

“Nobody. Please, pretend I’m a human at least until we part ways.“

“Why?“

Corners of her lips turned up but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day, my friend.“

Wukong’s guts nudged him not to trust the demoness. But he was too tired or too intrigued by Márgerdra not to quickly bow his head while keeping a deadpan face. In case the witch wanted to think he’d care about a demon.

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Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added): @vanessaroades-author @rubywrite @aohendo @rbbess110 @jgmartin @outpost51

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List of chapters:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Epilogue

[randomwriting-misc]

Endangered | Chapter Seven

Paul Lahote x OFC

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Summary: Vampires and wolves are not the only supernatural creatures to walk the earth, and they are certainly not the only ones in Forks, Washington when Charlotte Annabeth Swan, "Anna", moves in with her uncle after the unfortunate demise of her parents.

Some may misidentify her as a witch, but that’s fine, she would rather them think that anyway. But the Volturi know the truth, and they are closing in on her.

True to their word, every morning someone met me at my driveway to drive me to school, and every afternoon someone was waiting in the parking lot to take me home. Most of the time it was Paul, whose broodiness could be felt a mile away, but Jared took me on Wednesday following the first fight Paul and I ever had Tuesday afternoon on the way home, when he asked if we were going to talk about what happened.

“You can’t just throw away your life when someone else is in danger, Anna!” Paul shouted, first tight around the steering wheel.

“Wow,” I said scoffing, “Real rich coming from you. You literally risk your life every time you go out to keep people safe from rogue vampires.”

“I don’t have a choice in the matter,” he exclaimed.

“Well, neither do I!” I yelled, my voice level rising to meet his  

“Yes! You do!”

“I won’t let another member of my family die at the hands of others Paul, two is enough!”

That silenced him with a sigh, and once he pulled into my house, I jumped out of the car and rushed inside, ignoring him calling my name.  

When Jared showed up to pick me up the next morning, I had been crushed and walked through my day in a haze. The pulling at my chest to see him was too much to ignore.

Leaving school that same day, I walked out with my phone in my hands, debating with myself about calling him, when I saw someone leaning against my car. Even from across the parking lot, I could tell who it was.  

I quickened my step and ran into his arms.  

“I’m so sorry,” I said.  

“No, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, holding me tightly. All of the pain pulling at my chest fades away and is replaced by warmth and bliss. When he pulls back, he chuckles.

“There’s my blue-eyed girl,” He smiles, “When you’re mad it looks like there’s a storm brewing in those eyes.”

“Hm, a convenient warning sign for you.”  

He throws his head back in a laugh and, just like that, things are back to normal.

Friday comes around faster than I expect it to. Jared’s smiling face waiting for me when I walk outside that morning.

“Morning,” I greet him, tossing him my keys. He’s wearing a zip-up hoodie, my only request since this new arrangement started was that they please wear shirts. The stares I was getting from attractive shirtless guys driving my car were too much, the whispers obvious.

“Mornin’” he grins, “Ready to go?”

I nod, handing him a to-go cup of coffee as thanks for the ride. Bella had been taking her own truck this week, going to school early in hopes Edward would be there, and doing who knows what in the afternoon. I found it odd they had gone completely MIA the last few days but wondered if it had to do with the comedown of being tempted by human blood.  

“Ready for the big date tonight?” Jared asks, helping me into the passenger seat. At this point, the action was completely unnecessary, as I gave up natural healing on the third day and spelled away the injuries, but I knew if he didn’t Paul would get into it with him.  

“He told you about it?” Jared just gives me an exasperated look.  

“Please, it’s literally all Paul can think about. That and how he’s going to manage to keep you from getting hurt ever again.”  

“So dramatic,” I sigh.  

“I wouldn’t beat him up too much about it, Anna. I’ve literally never seen him so scared before,” Jared justifies.  

“I know, but I don’t want this to become I reason I’m treated like glass.”

“There’s been a lot of vamp activity lately, the Cullen’s you might consider harmless, but these others… They wouldn’t hesitate. He can’t help it.”

I sink back into my seat.  

“Well, I already told him and Charlie I won’t be gallivanting through the woods anytime soon.”

“Good. None of us ever want a repeat of that night.”

“You know, I didn’t realize when I bonded with Paul that meant I was getting a gaggle of overprotective friends to match.”

“Please, you love us,” he smirks.

He pulls into the school parking lot, parking in a space near the back.

“Are you picking me up too?” I ask, getting out.

“No, don’t worry, lover boy will be here,” Jared joked.  

I flip him off and say goodbye. They usually wait for the lot to clear before running back to the Res in wolf form.

Once again, Edward and the Cullens were no-shows. Bella was obviously worried, it was as if without Edward she would fall into herself and spiral. I didn’t know what I could do to help, so I just gave her space throughout the day.  

Paul was there was the day was over, just as promised. Hugging him, he picks me up and spins me, making me giggle. He’s dressed up a little more than usual. Rather than his usual random shorts and zip-up, he’s wearing a nice pair of flat-front shorts, a grey t-shirt, and a short-sleeve button-down over it with the buttons unbuttoned.  

“Hey beautiful,” he says, kissing my head. He hasn’t truly kissed me since Sunday, but physical affection has always been normal between us.  

“Hi handsome,” I reply, “Ready for our date?”

“Almost, I figured we could stop by your place, let you change, and then we have to stop by Emily’s to grab something. She wants to see you and I would like to avoid her wrath for the next few days.”  

“That sounds perfect. Do I get a hint at what we are doing?”  

He shakes his head and opens the door for me.  

“What’s the fun in that?” He quips.  

Charlie isn’t home when we pull in, and I’m thankful to save Paul the lecture. Kissing his cheek, I tell him to wait while I run in to change.  

“Oh! What should I wear?” I yell.

“Something comfortable!”

I nod and run in. I wanted to enjoy the last semi-warm days before the cold settles in for most of the year. I pull on light wash high-waisted jeans and a black cropped tank. I refresh my makeup and hair, checking myself over in the mirror. I throw on a cream-colored sweater and black sandals before making my way back outside, promptly heading towards La Push.

Walking into Emily’s house, I’m instantly pulled away from Paul as Emily dotes on me in the living room, checking over where I was hurt. She’s reciting a spiel I’ve heard multiple times over from Paul and even Sam in the last few days.

“Emily, it’s okay, see, not even a scar,” I say showing her the unmarked skin on my side. She pulls me into a tight hug, smothering me.

“It was terrifying Anna, when Sam called, they didn’t even know if you were alive.”  

“I know, I’m sorry," I say, not wanting to be dismissive.

“It’s not your fault sweet girl, just please be safe,” she said pulling away. I watch as Paul sneaks into the kitchen and Emily smiles at me.  

“And have fun today,” she says, “You two deserve it.”

I blush and look down, “I will, anything you can tell me?”

“Just that he’s nervous, and obsessed over every detail. It’s very cute, I never expected Paul to be like this. I’m forever grateful you two found each other.”

Paul interrupts us announcing that everything is ready to go. I say goodbye to Emily with a promise to spend time with her over the weekend.

“Are we headed to our final destination?”

“We are,” he concedes.

It’s a short drive to the familiar beach on La Push. Exiting the car, I interlace his fingers with mine as he grabs a cooler out of the back of my car.  

“I didn’t even see you put that there,” I point out.

He winks, ‘That’s the whole point baby.”

We walk through the sand, my shoes in one hand and the other in his, and we walk along the shoreline.  

“Is there a particular place we are going?” I ask, still aching to know.

“Just shush and be surprised,’ he scolds.

“It’s against my nature.” I frown.

“I’ve noticed,” he says kissing the back of my hand.

I’m clued into where we are headed when we make our way to a familiar and secluded area of the beach. We get closer and I gasp. There, on the rocky shore where Paul and I locked eyes for the first time is a beautiful picnic set up, complete with thick blankets and pillows facing the oceans. Lit candles are flickering around the picnic area, and some are set on a low table at the end of the blanket. I feel a tug of nervousness coming from Paul, and I look up at him, tears in my eyes.

“Do you like-?” He starts, but I cut him off by kissing him earnestly. The arm not holding onto the cooler wraps around me and my hand finds the side of his face.

“Like it? Paul, I love it, this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” I breathe out, breaking away the kiss slightly.

“Well, I had a little help,” he admits, guiding me to sit down. Opening the cooler, he reveals all the food he brought, setting it on the low table in front of us. One by one he sets out all of my favorite things, sushi, fruit salad, sliced watermelon, sweet tea, my favorite type of chips, and Emily’s croissant sandwiches, with her famous chocolate chip cookies for dessert.  

“Paul, this is amazing. You remembered all of these things?” I look up at him, amazed.

“Of course, I did, just like I remember how much you love being by the ocean, and how I remember what I felt when I saw you here for the first time. It seemed like a good place for our first official date.”

I lean against him, my back to his chest, as he wraps his arms around me.  

“Tell me about it,” I whisper, and feel him take a deep breath.  

“I was honestly terrified. I thought if I ever imprinted, I would feel like another thing had been taken away from me. I already dislike being forced into this life, how could I force someone else? But when I saw you, it didn’t matter what I did or didn’t like. It’s like my center of gravity shifted from the earth to you. I just wanted to be next to you, make you happy. And of course, you had gotten yourself hurt, so I was panicked, already worried I would hurt you in some way.

When you told me you felt it too? It was a huge weight off my shoulders, not having to explain this all to you really was something I was dreading. And then you wanted to be around me? It felt right. I’ve felt like a burden a lot of my life, but I’ve never felt like that with you.”

It’s silence for a moment as the weight of his words settles in.  

“You know, even if you hadn’t changed, we still would have been soul bonded. It doesn’t change on my end if a person is human or not. Do you hate that?” I say, scared of the answer.

“No, even without the imprint, you would be it for me, Anna,” he pauses, “Tell about it from your perspective?”

“Well, things were hard beforehand. Moving here was rough, and discovering that the Cullen’s were vampires, the one creature my mom wanted me to stay away from so desperately? It was like I was constantly in survival mode. Gravity is a good way of describing it because suddenly, I needed to be near you,” I pause, handing him two soda cans, he opens one and hands it back to me, knowing I can’t do it myself most of the time and it makes me smile.

“For a while now, my soul felt broken, and while I’ll still always miss my parents, it feels like I can be a person again. It was like I was a puzzle piece, trying too hard to fit into others, and then you along and fit perfectly. I can feel your emotions, which makes me feel grounded, which is why I have never bought into this narrative of you being so angry.”

“I use to be. I was an angry kid. My parent’s divorce was pretty nasty, and then when my mom had cancer... I just felt angry at the world. And then, because of that anger, I became a part of the pack. Suddenly, my life wasn’t my own anymore.”

“It’s a tough situation, no one can blame you for those feelings.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t handle it in a healthy way. Now, just being near you calms me down, gives me clarity on my reactions and actions.”

He kisses my head and holds out a strawberry for me to eat. I lean forward and take it from his hand with my mouth, earning a chuckle from him.  

We eat and talk (and kiss) until the sun starts to set on the horizon. I take in all the colors in the sky and take deep breaths. Paul’s laying his head in my lap as I run my hands through his hair with one hand, the other is using some magic to make shapes in the sand.  

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how interesting your powers are,” Paul says. I smile and let the sand fall to the ground, shy that he noticed.

“This is really beautiful,” I say looking out to the water.

“Not as beautiful as you.”  

“Cute,” I quickly kiss him, “but not true.”

“I think it’s very true,” he stands up, holding out his hand to me, helping me up when I take it in mine.

“You’re biased,” I mention, but he just shrugs, lifting me up and spinning me around. His amber eyes shine, and his tan skin looks like copper in the sun. I know he is handsome, but every once in a while, it hits me again and takes my breath away.  

“You're going to spoil me Lahote, I would watch out.”

“I think you might deserve it,” he kisses me on my nose, setting me down.  

We walk to the water and I roll up the cuffs of my jeans to let the waves wash over our feet, watching the sunset, hand in hand. It is perfect, and Paul Lahote is the center of my universe at this moment.  

Just as the last of the sun is almost below the horizon, we slowly pack up our things. I fold up the last blanket, holding it close to me as my phone rings. I answer it as I see its Charlie, at the same time, Paul’s phone goes off.  

“Hello?”

“Anna? Oh, thank god. Is Bella with you?” Charlie’s voice is frantic at the end of the line.

“No, I’m in La Push on a date right now. I haven’t seen Bella since I left school,” I say, confused.

“God, I’m sorry, can you please come home? I can’t find Bella.”

“Yeah, I can. What do you mean you can’t find-”  

“The rest of the police are here, I gotta go. I’ll see you soon Anna?” Charlie interrupts.  

“Yeah, I’m on my way.”

Hanging up, I look at Paul who’s getting off the phone as well.

“Paul, I’m sorry, I- I have to go home,” I stutter.

“I know, that was Sam. He’s going out to help look for Bella. I’ll drive you home.”

I nod and grab his hand, walking back to my car as fast as possible.  

---------------------------------------

Pulling up to my house, everything was illuminated by police lights and flashlights. I run out of the car and up to Charlie.

“What’s going on?” I cry.

“Anna?” Charlie sighs in relief “Oh my god, Anna.” He engulfs me in a hug.  

“Uncle Charlie, what’s happening? Where’s Bella?”

“She’s missing. No one has seen her since she left school, and she’s not answering her phone. Our neighbors saw her entering the woods.”

My hand covers my mouth in a gasp, and I look at Paul. He kisses me on the temple and whispers to me.  

“We are out looking for her now, I’ll go help.”

Nodding, I kiss him quickly.  

“Thank you,” I whisper, he just nods back. I turn back to Charlie, hoping to distract him from Paul’s disappearance. Harry Clearwater catches my eye and dips his head in acknowledgment, calling Charlie’s name.

Billy Black is also here, and standing next to him is Jacob. He must have seen me with Paul because I can’t tell if he is looking at me in disgust or betrayal.  

“What can I do?” I ask Charlie.

“Just stay in my line of sight, please? I can’t have you in the woods to right now. We have people searching the trails near the house right now, and we will start a grid search soon,” Charlie is handling this better than I would have thought, compartmentalizing into Sherrif mode at the moment, “Have you heard from Edward?”

I shake my head, “No, I haven’t seen him since Bella’s birthday party.”

With an exasperated sigh, he goes back to the map on his car.

I walk up to Harry, one of the tribe’s elders who had welcomed me in with open arms.  

“Do you think they’ll find her?” I ask lowly.  

“I do, Sam and Jared have been out since Charlie called me.”  

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.  

“Has there been any... other activity?”

“Not this past week. Sam doesn’t think that's something to worry about right now.”

“Thank god.”  

“We’ll find her sweetheart, don’t worry,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I thank him and stand next to Charlie, feeling useless.  

Jacob doesn’t attempt to talk to me, and I suspect that’s due to his dad shooting daggers at him. I am tempted to read his mind but always felt like it was a violation of someone’s privacy. I avoided using it on people I was close to, and out of respect for Jake, I don’t.

The minutes tick by, search parties come up empty, and Charlie continues to call the Cullen’s for answers, up until Billy speaks up.  

“The Cullen's left town Charlie,” he says.  

“ What? ” I shout. They left? After all that talk about protecting Bella, how much Edward loves Bella. I’m furious as it dawns on me. Did Bella go with them? Leave Charlie again?

“Where’d they go?” He asks.  

I don’t hear the answer, lost in my own thoughts on how to pick up the pieces that Bella would leave broken.

“Charlie,” Jacob's voice cuts through my mind. Sam is carrying Bella out of the forest, listless in his arms.  

“Oh god,” I say, running towards him behind Charlie.  

“She’s alright!” he announces, and Charlie takes her from his arms. Bella curls into her father's arms like a child, barely awake, and tears silently fall down my face. The broken pieces are not Charlie, they are Bella. The Cullen’s abandoned her, and we will be here to try to put her back together.  

Sam calls my name, breaking my stare.

“Thank you,” I croak out. He wraps me in a hug. Sam is like the older brother I never had, while Jared was annoying and playful, Sam was caring, always looking out for me now that I was a part of his family.

“Don’t thank me, I was just helping out,” He wipes the tears from my face, “I’m going to go find Paul, do you him to come over?”

I nod weakly, “Yes, please.”  

He sends me inside, but not before I see Jacob, staring at Sam with intensity, Sam just stares back, not backing down.  

Bella is on the couch, still seemingly unconscious, while Charlie gets up to get water. I quickly recite a spell and check her over, but there’s no physical damage to repair, just looming darkness on her soul, something magic can’t fix.  

I sigh and walk over to Charlie, who’s leaning on the counter, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

“She’s okay,” I say.  

“She’s okay,” he repeats, like the more we say it, the more truthful it will be. There isn’t much else to say really, not until Bella wakes, and I can assess the damage down.  

I sit with Bella as Charlie disperses the people in the yard, thanking them and saying goodbye. My eyes are heavy as I watch over her, still trying to understand what exactly happened when Bella starts screaming.

“Bella!” I fall next to her, and Charlie rushes through the door. I shake her when she screams again.  

“Bella!” Charlie yells, shaking her shoulders.

Bella’s eyes burst open, and she hyperventilates as she looks around. Tears falling out of her eyes.  

“He’s gone.”  

Read Chapter Eight Here 

A/N: Tag list open! 

[ceaderblocks]

Like Real People Do

A collab with @mine-sara-sp ! She drew the amazing art for this fic ♡ 

Iskall was in the middle of working on Sahara with Mumbo when he realized a very important, completely out-of-the-blue fact.

Iskall had been hanging around Mumbo for years before realizing they had never done a redstone grind together. Sure, they had gone End Busting and raided the Nether together, but they had never once strip mined for redstone.

“What a waste!” Iskall said out loud, slamming a shulker box down on the ground with much more force then required.

“What’s a waste?” Mumbo startled, looking at Iskall after his sudden outburst.

“You are!” Iskall gestured to Mumbo with both arms. The redstoner looked offended, and then a little hurt.

“Well, I think my skills are valuable and contribute greatly-“

“No, no, no no no,” Iskall cut him off. “You’re a magnet to redstone. You always seem to mine a bazillion shulker boxes-“

“It’s easy to find!”

“-and it’s a waste I haven’t gone mining with you. If we go together, you’ll do your weird redstone-attraction thing, and I’ll be set for the season! Plus, I need more for Sahara anyways.”

“... Do we need to go right now?”

“Yes,” Iskall said cheerfully, placing his hands on his hips. “I accidentally broke the last repeater I had when I slammed that shulker box down.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mumbo and Iskall found themselves underground in a long, hollow strip mine.

“Alright,” Iskall rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get mining! I’ll take the left side, you take the right.”

“What?” Mumbo asked, scrunching his nose in confusion. “Why?”

Iskall stared at Mumbo for a moment.

“So we can spread out and quicken out chances of finding redstone?” Iskall said, suddenly uncertain of his plan.

“Oh, well there’s a vein three blocks down and to the right,” Mumbo said, pointing in the general area he had just stated.

“Dude, what.”

“Can’t you feel it?” Mumbo asked.

“No! Oh my god, Mumbo,” Iskall squished his friend’s face between his hands. “How much redstone have you inhaled to get this superpower?”

“Well- I mean- well, you know,” Mumbo stuttered, gesturing wildly.

“Can you do this for other blocks?” Iskall asked, Mumbo’s face still in his hands.

Mumbo shook his head. “Just redstone.”

“That’s insane!” Iskall said with a laugh, dropping his hands. “You might want to get Xisuma to check that out, it doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh,” Mumbo said, his face falling. It was news to him that other hermits couldn’t detect redstone. Iskall said it was wrong, but Mumbo, from his first memory, could always sense redstone.

“It’s alright dude,” Iskall said, and threw an arm around Mumbo’s shoulder. “I don’t think it's an immediate health concern. Plus, we still have redstone to get!”

Iskall patted Mumbo’s chest with his free hand, spun away from him and pulled out his pickaxe in one smooth motion.

“Let’s get mining!”

Mumbo agreed nervously and directed Iskall where the nearest vein of redstone was.

That night, covered in redstone, Mumbo sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his red shulker box. It hummed with power, and Mumbo could see the faint outline of the redstone dust wrapped in a bag. He wondered why no one else could see it too.

——

Grian stood in front of Mumbo’s witch farm, humming to himself. He needed some goldstone (and gunpowder), and decided to borrow some while Mumbo was AFK. The problem was Mumbo was AFK inside the witch farm, which threw a very large wrench in Grian’s plan.

“I can sneak around while he’s AFK! It’ll be fiiine.” Grian said to himself. “It’s not like he’s awake.”

With his pep-talk out of the way, Grian opened the door to the farm. He immediately gave a small scream as he came face-to-face with Mumbo, staring directly at him.

“Oh!” Grian gave a nervous laugh. “Hey Mumbo! I was just coming to borrow some glowstone!”

Mumbo didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t react at all. Grian frowned.

“Uh, hello? Mumbo?” The builder waved his hand in front of Mumbo’s face. The redstoner stared on, unblinking.

“Oh! You’re AFK? Who AFK’s with their eyes open?” Grian asked. Leaning forwards, he frowned.

“Don’t your eyes get dry?” Grian asked. “You really are AFK. I can basically see the loading screen in your brain.”

Grian scoffed, and stood back. Then he frowned, and leaned forwards. Now that he was looking, there was something in Mumbo’s eyes. It didn’t seem like a reflection, either. As Grian looked closer, he could see three circles ellipsing themselves, moving constantly to create a sphere shape.

“Huh, it kinda looks like a screensaver,” Grian said, tilting his head and leaning in closer to admire Mumbo’s eyes.

“Kinda like NPC rebooting...” Grian muttered. He was much too close, their noses almost touching when Mumbo suddenly blinked, the sphere shrinking and being replaced with a pupil. Grian shrieked and jumped back, but Mumbo didn’t respond for a moment, robotically blinking again before giving his head a small shake, emotion returning to his face.

“Grian!” He said. “What’re you doing- hey, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

“Oh! I, uh,” Grian waved his hands around, trying to come up with an excuse why he had been nose-to-nose with Mumbo. “I was, uh, stealing glowstone?”

“Oh, you just had to ask.” Mumbo said, unfazed.

“Wait, do you not…” Grian paused. Mumbo had a terrible poker face, and would tease Grian mercilessly about this interaction. But he wasn’t. It was almost like he wasn’t aware it had happened, which was impossible.

NPC sometimes takes a few moments to reboot and never remembers the first 5 seconds of waking up. A rogue thought in Grian’s head provided.

But NPC was a machine, and Mumbo was not, and Grian was a little thrown off by the whole thing.

“Gri?” Mumbo asked, looking concerned.

“You know what? I just remembered I had some at home. Bye!” Grian said hurriedly, snatching rockets from his inventory and flying off.

“What in the world was that?” Grian asked himself, a large frown on his face and worry in his mind. “People don’t need to reboot.”

——

The more Grian thought about his interaction, the more concerned he became. He knew how robots acted, and Mumbo was not a robot. Uncapping his marker, Grian set to work writing everything down on his large whiteboard.

Robotic Traits. He wrote, underlining the title.

Robotic Movements

Rebooting when AFK or offline

Monotone or simple emotions

Overly polite

Grian paused, and added a smaller bullet point under the last.

(except when trying to kill me or take over the server)

He started on his next list, switching to a red marker and drawing an arrow from each robotic point to an explanation of why Mumbo Jumbo couldn’t possibly be a robot.

Mumbo Jumbo

Robotic Motions -> He’s just lanky and exhausted most of the time

Rebooting when AFK or offline -> dissociation(?)

Monotone or simple emotions -> mumbo is deadpan

Overly Polite -> ???

(except when trying to kill me or take over the server)

Grian sighed. His answers weren’t very convincing to anyone, let alone his own paranoia. He had been killed and kidnapped by both NPC Grian and Robot Grian in the past, and he couldn’t get Mumbo’s AFK loading icon out of his head. What if Mumbo wasn’t really a robot, but had been replaced by his own copy? What if this mechanical copy of his friend was trying to overtake the server? What had it done with the real Mumbo?

How long had the real Mumbo been gone for?

“Dude,” Iskall said, breaking Grian out of his spiraling thoughts. “What is… this?”

“It’s, uh,” Grian paused, trying to think of an explanation. “Well, I think Mumbo has been kidnapped and replaced by an evil machine counterpart.”

“...What?” Iskall said, letting out a nervous chuckle upon seeing how serious Grian was.

“No! Seriously!” Grian grabbed Iskall’s shoulders. “Listen, I’ve been replaced by robots many times in my past-”

“ You Have!?”

“-And I know what they act like! Seriously, Mumbo is always jerky and uncoordinated, just like Robot Grian. He’s suspiciously polite, almost like manners have been programmed into him! Plus I saw him wake up from AFK just a few hours ago, Iskall, it wasn’t natural. He rebooted.”

Iskall stared at him for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“Well,” He finally settled on saying, gently removing Grian’s hands from his shoulders. “That certainly is a theory.”

“You don’t believe me?” Grian cried, wrapping his arms around his torso, clearly distressed.

“Woah, woah,” Iskall said, “It’s not that I don’t believe you! It would explain Mumbo’s weird redstone mining.”

“His what?”

“He can, like, see it through blocks. It was so strange. He could also feel it when it was deeper,” Iskall said, deep in thought. “It was very useful when we were mining it, but it was very odd.”

“Oh my god,” Grian muttered, and sat down on a nearby shulker box. “He’s a machine. Mumbo’s been replaced.”

“Oh Grian,” Iskall placed a comforting hand on Grian’s back. “Let’s not jump ahead, okay? Why don’t we get more information first?”

Grian brought his head from his hands and nodded in silent agreement. He just prayed that Mumbo wasn’t suffering like he had.

----

Embarrassingly enough, it took Mumbo almost a week to notice Grian’s silence and avoidance of him. No more Sahara meetings were called, and Grian often said the bare minimum to him. Uncomfortable, Mumbo brought it up to Iskall once while they worked on Sahara together.

“Hey Iskall?”

“Hmm?” his friend responded, chest deep in a shulker box.

“Is… Is Grian mad at me?”

Iskall’s head hit the top of the box, and he let out a short curse. “Why would you think that?”

“I feel like he’s been avoiding me. Since he swung by my witch farm last week, actually.” Mumbo said, frowning. If he said something that made Grian angry or uncomfortable, he wanted to apologize for it.

“Nah,” Iskall said with a lackluster shrug. If Mumbo had been paying attention he would’ve seen the sweat on Iskall’s brow. “I think he’s just busy.”

“Oh,” Mumbo said.

“Speaking of busy,” Iskall stood. “I’ve got to go grab more redstone. I’m out. See you in a bit!”

“Okay,”  Mumbo said, his friend flying off with a wave.

Biting his lip, Mumbo noticed Iskall left his Redstone shulker box. They had just gone redstone mining a week ago, had Iskall run out that quickly? Mumbo opened the shulker box (not that he needed to) but he hoped the red outline he could see around it would be wrong for once.

He inhaled sharply.

It was full.

Sighing, Mumbo closed it. He decided that instead of overthinking why his friends were suddenly ignoring him and lying to him, he’d work on redstone instead.

Redstone, at least, was easily fixable.

-----

Cleo stood in front of Sahara, her face scrunched in an unpleasant emotion. Something in the shopping district stunk, and she followed her nose to find out what. It had led her to the redstone part of Sahara, overwhelming her senses.

It wasn’t a stench that could be smelt by normal hermits. She knew it well, it was her own. It was the stench of magic overworking itself to keep something alive.

Whatever this magic was keeping alive, it was working very, very hard.

“Hello?” She called out. “Wow, you guys need an air freshener in this place- oh! Mumbo!”

“Hello, Cleo!” Mumbo said cheerfully.

Cleo smiled, watching the redstone-covered hermit approach. Then she frowned.

“Mumbo, you smell dead.” Cleo said. “Well, not dead. You smell... un-alive.”

“I- wow. I don’t know what to say.” Mumbo said with an awkward laugh.

Cleo leaned closer, taking an intense sniff. Mumbo leaned backwards, a little uncomfortable.

“Yeah. It’s you.” Cleo confirmed. “What’re you working on?”

“Oh, uh... redstone?” Mumbo said, gesturing to himself, very confused with the whole scenario. His usually neat suit was covered in redstone, the red dust already settled in his hair.

“Are Grian and Iskall here?” Cleo asked. Mumbo made a face at that.

“Uh, no, actually. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“How long is a while?” Cleo asked, pushing past Mumbo and walking into the redstone circuitry.

“Oh, uh, maybe two weeks?” Mumbo said, frowning and fiddling with a ring on his finger.

“Huh,” Cleo said. “It’s because you need a shower.”

“Excuse me?” Mumbo said.

“Seriously, you smell like redstone and overheating code.”

“I showered this morning, thank you!” Mumbo said, a little angry.

“Then why,” Cleo turned and poked Mumbo in the chest, a small amount of redstone poofing off his suit. “Do you smell like an overheating machine?”

“I don’t-“ Mumbo stopped talking when Cleo took another long sniff.

“Mumbo, are you human?” She asked suddenly.

“What-“ Mumbo was furious. “Yes! Of course I am! God Cleo, what is wrong with you?”

Mumbo grabbed rockets from his inventory with much more aggression then they probably deserved. He lit one and flew off before Cleo could get another word in, and the Zombie watched him go, unbothered by his words.

“I guess I should see X,” Cleo muttered to herself, the scent lightening as Mumbo flew away.

——

NPC Grian usually kept to himself. He had a small plot of land that he had built outside the Hermit’s main map, not to be undiscovered, but to be peaceful. Hermits swinging by to say hello was not uncommon, and Grian came by every week or so to catch him up with whatever chaos had happened.

NPC was not surprised to hear a knock at his front door on a stormy, Thursday night. Grian often stayed when it stormed. He was a little surprised to see a soaked Mumbo standing at his door instead.

“Hello, Mumbo Jumbo.”

“Hey NPC.” Mumbo said, shivering slightly in the rain. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” NPC said, stepping to the side and letting the redstoner in. As Mumbo passed, a line of stats popped into NPC’s view, as it did for all hermits.

Name: Mumbo Jumbo

Species: Machine

Level: 54

Health: 20/20

Staus: Online

Role: Player

“Thanks. Sorry for invading, I needed somewhere without any Hermits.” Mumbo apologized.

“I understand,” NPC said, handing Mumbo a blanket and a towel. Mumbo smiled appreciatively, taking the towel and scrunching his hair dry. The dark, normally neat locks fell around his face, highlighting how pale Mumbo actually was.

“Sometimes humans get a little overwhelming,” NPC smiled, and Mumbo paused, a confused look coming over his face. NPC waited for his response.

“Uh, yeah.” Mumbo finally settled on saying, removing his suit jacket. “I guess we can.”

We? NPC mentally filed away the way Mumbo had used that language.

“Would you like some tea?” NPC offered instead, guiding Mumbo to the couch.

“Oh, yes please.” Mumbo said, all but collapsing into the cushions. The large fireplace in front of him was flickering, the fire strong but not overpowering.

NPC didn’t say anything while he made two cups of camomile tea, letting the clinking of cups and the whisper of the fire fill the air. Mumbo seemed much more relaxed by the time NPC came in, wrapped in blankets and eyes half-lidded.

“Your tea,” NPC said, offering the mug. Mumbo reached to grab it. “Careful not to spill it, you’ll fry yourself.”

Mumbo paused, retracting his hands. “Fry?”

“Your circuits,” NPC said, as if it was common knowledge, and he shoved the mug into Mumbo’s hands.

“I don’t have circuits?” Mumbo said, thoroughly confused. “You sound like Cleo. She said I smelt like an overheating machine.”

NPC hummed at that, realizing a few things at once.

One:  Mumbo has been confronted by Zombie Cleo about his origin, and most likely ran away from that conversation if the knock at my door meant anything.

Two:  Mumbo’s friends are starting to realize he might not be human.

Three: Mumbo does not realize that he is not human.

Four: Mumbo Jumbo must be malfunctioning if he is unaware that he is a machine.

A reset should fix that problem.

“Mumbo,” NPC said and sat next to him. If Mumbo thought he was human, NPC would have to treat him like that. “What made Zombie Cleo think that?”

Mumbo scoffed. “She said that I smelt ‘un-alive’ and like a ‘machine’. And redstone! That one was probably true though. It’s just like Grian the other day! He came over to get glowstone while I was AFK, and when I woke up he was a few feet away and super flushed. He said something about rebooting, and then flew off before grabbing glowstone!”

NPC took the mug from Mumbo’s hands as the redstoner got more animated when speaking.

“Oh! And then Iskall! We went redstone mining and he said he couldn’t see the redstone under the blocks, but he must be able too, because he always has lots of redstone too! He acted the whole trip like he didn’t know where it was, which, frankly, it just rude. Now Grian and Iskall have been ignoring me!”

Mumbo huffed and sat back. NPC handed him his mug again, and Mumbo took a very long sip.

“Thank you, NPC.” Mumbo finally said after a minute. “For listening. And also the tea.”

“Of course,” NPC said with a gentle smile. “Can I suggest a solution?”

“You have one?” Mumbo said, thoroughly confused.

“Of course. You just need a reset.”

“Not you too! Now you’re talking to me with weird machine terms that I know you don’t use those with Grian!”

NPC frowned. It was worse than he thought.

“That is because Grian is not a machine.”

Mumbo stared at him a moment, before placing his mug down and standing abruptly.

“Thank you, NPC. I have to go.” Mumbo headed towards the door when a strong grip caught his wrist. NPC tightened it as Mumbo struggled against it.

“Mumbo, when you get to respawn, don’t restart right away.”

“NPC, let me go!”

“Listen to me,” NPC said. “Don’t respawn right away. Just wait until you feel ready.”

“I don’t control respawn!” Mumbo said, his voice rising in fear. He desperately tried to break NPC’s grip, but his exterior was not made of metal as the builder’s was.

“Good luck, Mumbo Jumbo.” NPC said, and summoned a sword into his hand.

“NPC, no-!”

< MumboJumbo was slain by NPC_Grian >

——

Mumbo reached the void and was filled with panic. Immediately he went to hit the large, looming ‘Respawn’ button out of muscle memory. Right as his fingers brushed the lettering, he stopped.

He stayed still and waited as if he expected some invisible force to push his hand on the button, but nothing happened.

He always thought he had to respawn immediately, but here he was, hand hovering over the option as time ticked on.

The other hermits just woke up in their beds, he was sure of that. He moved his hand from the looming button, and took a deep breath.

Something else to add to the list of odd things about himself.

NPC said he could wait until he felt better, right? Besides, he had a lot to think about. Iskall and Grian were ignoring him anyways, and he didn’t really want to see Cleo or NPC. He could just wait a few minutes and collect his thoughts. Nothing bad could possibly happen, he was already dead.

He’d just stay here for a while. Just enough to collect his thoughts. Then he’d go back.

Just a few minutes.

Just a few...

----

Xisuma had never felt so much anxiety in his life. Having been an Admin for ten or so years, he was pretty adept at solving all problems. Evil counterpart destroying the server? Xisuma could deal with it. Bugs and code problems? He could do it in his sleep.

A server player being killed and not respawning for two days despite there being no bugs and his code being perfect? Xisuma was out of luck.

“God damn it!” He swore, covering his face in his hands and inhaling sharply. The line of code he had run had failed to bring Mumbo back, the redstoner still being stuck in respawn void.

Mumbo had been quite a character in Xisuma’s last few weeks. Iskall had come first, worried about Mumbo’s health when the man could apparently sense redstone through solid blocks. A few days later Grian had swung by, babbling feverishly that Mumbo had been replaced by a robot and was up to nothing good.

Xisuma had brushed both off with a gentle smile and a ‘I’ll look into it, thanks for letting me know’.

He wasn’t able to ignore when Cleo walked through his door three days ago, claiming Mumbo smelt un-alive. This very much caught Xisuma’s attention, and he sat her down to get her to explain everything.

Only an hour later the death message had come across his screen.

< MumboJumbo was slain by NPC_Grian >

Grian whispered to Xisuma: See! Even NPC realized Mumbo was replaced! Or worse, NPC is orchestrating the entire thing. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Xisuma left a concerned Cleo, teleporting immediately to Mumbo’s spawn point, waiting anxiously for the redstoner to reappear.

He waited.

And waited.

Xisuma sent a message to Mumbo.

Waited some more.

And then realized something was very wrong, teleported to his base and started working on Mumbo’s code.

“Okay, another try. Then a break.” Xisuma muttered to himself. He had been awake for far too long, but he needed to figure out what was wrong for Mumbo not to respawn. He couldn’t have the other Hermits panicking if something was wrong with respawn.

A gentle knock at his door brought Xisuma out of his thoughts. Standing and stretching, Xisuma walked over to the door, and opened it to find NPC Grian. He immediately took a step back. Grian’s messages creeping in the back of his mind.

“NPC Grian! It’s... good to see you.” Xisuma smiled, trying to look friendly, forgetting for the most part his helmet didn’t show his mouth. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed it has, Xisuma Void.” NPC said, as emotionless as always. “May I come in?”

“Oh! Actually it’s not really a good moment,” He muttered closing the door slightly.  “There’s just a huge mess, I’ve been-“

“Trying to bring Mumbo Jumbo back from respawn?” NPC interrupted.

“... Yes, actually.” Xisuma said, a little wary.

“There's no point in forcing him back.” NPC leaned in closer and patted Xisuma’s shoulder. “He’ll come back when he wants to.”

“Sorry,” Xisuma asked, confused. “But how do you know this?”

“Because he is like me.” NPC said. “If you need him back sooner, I can go get him.”

Xisuma decided to ignore the first part of NPC’s statement and the suspicions around him. He opened the door and let the robot come in. “Would you go get him? Everyone’s worried.”

“Of course. Set Mumbo Jumbo’s spawn point here-“ NPC put down two beds, and gestured to the bed on the right. “And I will set mine here. Then, kill me.”

Xisuma took a moment to fully digest the plan.

“And then what?”

“Well, then I will talk to Mumbo Jumbo and bring him back.”

“Oh,” Xisuma said, grateful for the apparently easy solution put before him. He was exhausted and decided that NPC was his best shot at this point even if there was the chance it might be a trap or something. If NPC tried to take over the server like Ex did he could deal with that later. He had already tried fixing every line of code of Mumbo’s, and he had nothing to lose.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and I already set my respawn.” NPC said.

Xisuma nodded, and brought up Mumbo’s code again. He changed the respawn to the nearby bed, and then closed the menu, drawing out a sword.

“Are you ready?” Xisuma asked.

NPC nodded.

< NPC_Grian was slain by Xisumavoid >

--

Being dead wasn't so bad.

Well, he wasn't really dead right now. Dead in the overworld, maybe, but not dead here, even if it wasn't clear where here was.

Was it respawn void? It didn't really matter.

Strangely, Mumbo felt better and better the more he stayed there, suspended into nothing with the looming respawn button hovering not too far away from him.

It was odd, resting here. Mumbo felt as if he had taken the longest sleep. Compared to how he usually slept, it felt like he had never once truly rested in his life up until that point.

Mumbo felt rejuvenated, his mind sharp like he could go and rebuild all the machines in Sahara from the ground up in a week.

Strange how NPC was right apparently.

Just about respawn. Mumbo reminded himself.

There must be some other explanation for all the weird things going on. Regardless of all the strange things that had happened, he wasn't a machine.

Mumbo would have noticed, it's not like he was born a week ago.

The redstoner felt ready to go back to the server, even if he would have had to talk with Grian and Iskall about why they were avoiding him. Also talk with Cleo… Maybe she was just having a weird zombie flu? It’s the only reason Mumbo could come up with for why she was smelling weird stuff.

It’s okay, it was just a weird couple of weeks! It happens.

Mumbo looked at the button ready to press it. He reached out and - wait.

Didn't he use to have fingers and hands?

He would have blinked but he realized he didn't have any eyes that needed blinking. He didn't have a mouth to speak, ears to hear anything, arms or legs.

He should have been terrified, but strangely enough something very, very deep in his mind felt almost comfortable with this sudden realization.

Which, arguably, was the really terrifying part.

He was reduced to… nothing? No, he was still something. He wasn't sure what. He felt immense but not really, like he'd always been wearing something too tight and only now he could finally stretch out.

His body…

His body didn't fit what he actually was.

What was he?

He was human! Right? Right?!

This void was just messing with his head. It must be--

"Are you ready to come back yet?” A familiar monotone voice spoke.

--

Xisuma watched the beds with bated breath. A few minutes passed and panic filled his chest, quickly becoming overwhelming.

“Shit,” Xisuma said, pulling up the Admin menu again. Fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard, Xisuma didn’t even know where to begin. Should he access NPC’s code first? Try and drag him back? But it hadn’t worked on Mumbo, and NPC was not a traditional player.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to enter any code, as NPC and Mumbo respawned on the bed. NPC sat up and gave Xisuma a emotionless thumbs up while Mumbo clutched his chest and rolled to his side, coughing.

“Mumbo!” Xisuma rushed to his side, rubbing his friends back.

“He’s alright,” NPC said. “It takes a moment to adjust back into a body. I go through it too after extended time in respawn. Being a machine forced into a flesh cage is very difficult sometimes.”

“I don’t…” Xisuma said, brain blanking after that information. “Okay, I’m going to ignore that. How do you spend so much time in respawn?”

“Machines are not affected the same way humans are.” NPC said.

“Shut up!” Mumbo wheezed, and pushed Xisuma away, stumbling from the bed. “I’m not a machine! Stop saying I am!”

“But you are.” NPC said, almost sounding confused.

“Okay,” Xisuma said, reaching towards Mumbo. “Regardless if you are, are you okay?”

“Regardless?” Mumbo squeaked, voice rising in anger. “Xisuma, you can’t be siding with them! Everyone has been treating me weird and now he says I'm a machine, and I’m not!”

“Mumbo-”

“No! There’s no proof! Everyone is just imagining things!”

NPC sighed, and brought up Mumbo’s code, displaying it for everyone to see.

Name: Mumbo Jumbo

Species: Machine

Level: 1

Health: 20/20

Staus: Online

Role: Player

“Okay, so, you get very different stats than me. ” Xisuma said. “But that doesn’t matter- It’s okay, Mumbo. Not everyone on the server is human. Hell, I’m barely human myself.”

“No,” Mumbo muttered to himself. “No! It’s not right!”

"Why can't it be that you're not hum-"

"Because I bleed!" Mumbo shouted. "I bleed and I cry and I get headaches and I get sick and all these stupid things that make me human!"

He tried to rub away some tears forming in his eyes as he continued shouting. "I can't just be a machine all of the sudden! It doesn't make any sense. I can’t be!"

There was silence, and for a moment no one knew what to say. The only sound was Mumbo's erratic breathing, muffled slightly by the hands covering his face.

Then NPC stepped over and patted Mumbo on the shoulder, which felt almost mocking.

"Silly! All those things only mean your body is human. Being a machine goes a little bit deeper."

Mumbo’s hands dropped, and the man looked exhausted.

“Mumbo,” Xisuma took a step closer, and Mumbo took a step back, hitting a wall. Uncertainty and confusion flitted across his face. “Please. Mumbo, not being human doesn’t lessen your worth. We still love you.”

There was a long silence, and finally Mumbo leaned against the wall, sliding to the ground and placing his head onto his knees. Xisuma sat beside him, hesitating for only a moment before pulling Mumbo into a side hug.

“I hate this.” Mumbo muttered.

“I know.” Xisuma said.

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know.”

“I am human. I have a human body, NPC said so. I’m human.” Mumbo said, sounding unconvincing to even himself.

“It will be okay, Mumbo.” Xisuma said, praying that it would.

Mumbo said nothing, hoping with all his heart that tomorrow, when he woke up, it would be nothing but a feverish dream. That he had worked on redstone a little too hard for a little too long and had fallen into some strange lucid dream. Mumbo felt Xisuma rub his arm lightly, the up and down movements calming.

“It’ll be okay.” He said again.

Mumbo had no choice but to trust him.

[willow-salix]

TAG MiniBang 2021

Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...

I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project,  @misssquidtracy​ . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing. 

Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy​ ) for organising this event.

So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it. 

Ting ting ting

“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves. 

“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?” 

“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure-”

“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”

“A sandwich?” 

“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”

“Sure-”

“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”

“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.

“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.

“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.

“What did the cheese do to you?”

“It’s guilty by association.”

“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly. 

A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.

“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.

“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”

“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”

“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.

“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely. 

“I am? And that would be…”

“John’s home.”

Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”

“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.

“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.

“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs. 

And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.

“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”

“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.

“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.

“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”

"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag. 

She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.

“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.

“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.

“Right, got it, my bad!”

She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk. 

“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.

“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

 “Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.

“Of course I will.” 

Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.

Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.

“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.

“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”

Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”

“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”

“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed. 

“Only when it’s true.”

“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.

“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”

Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”

“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”

“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.

“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”

“I meant no one I can do anything with.”

“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”

“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”

“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”

“Who?”

“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”

“John? No way.”

“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.

Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.

“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.

“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.

Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.

“A bit boring.”

“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.

“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.

“He is not boring.”

“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table. 

“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.

“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”

-x-

"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."

"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."

John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all. 

“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly. 

"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her. 

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign. 

"What did you do?" 

"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.

"Are you sure?" 

Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."

"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."

"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work. 

"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought. 

"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more. 

"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?" 

"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay. 

"Just sit around all day."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."

"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room. 

"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was  sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project. 

"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him. 

Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him. 

"What are you even doing?" 

"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall. 

"Why?" 

"Because she likes them."

"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."

Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop. 

"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best. 

Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name. 

"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."

"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay. 

-x-

"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite. 

"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance. 

"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer. 

"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite. 

"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."

John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest. 

"So, what are you doing?" 

"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting. 

"The same one?" 

"Yes."

Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"

"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions. 

"Why?" 

"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."

"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done. 

"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."

"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned. 

"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes. 

"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

"Because it's you."

"Hey! Rude."

"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile. 

"Why?"

"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."

"Says the console jockey." 

Console Jockey? He did not just say that!

"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon. 

“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.

“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong. 

Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him.  He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all. 

John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.

 He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there. 

His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John. 

Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.

He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to. 

“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”

Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job. 

“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand. 

“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.” 

Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all. 

Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.

But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy.  Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.

Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.

“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.

He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.

John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect. 

“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”

“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.

Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin. 

“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.

“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.

“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”

Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.

“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”

He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”

“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.

“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”

John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.

“Sorry!” 

“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.

“What happened, love?”

“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain. 

John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.

“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”

“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”

“Because I know you two?” 

“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.

“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”

“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”

“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”

“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”

“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. 

John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”

“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”

“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”

Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation. 

But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted. 

“I tried, he’s not interested.”

“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”

-x-

“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday. 

“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed. 

“Grandma finally released you?”

“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”

“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”

“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"

"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!" 

"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."

"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed. 

"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."

"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted. 

"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding. 

"Yep."

Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones. 

"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time. 

"Actually, we got you a present."

"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?" 

This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper. 

"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to  study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.

"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”

“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.

“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.

Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon. 

"A ship?" Gordon frowned. 

"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”

“So you put the ship in the bottle?”

“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”

“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”

-x-

“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”

“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.

Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.

“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.

“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”

“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”

Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.

“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.

“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see. 

“Against the list?” John clarified.

“I eyeballed it, OK?”

“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”

“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life. 

“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.

“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”

Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.

John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.

“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.

“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”

“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience. 

“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted. 

“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”

“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.

“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”

Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.

“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”

Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.

By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.

John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together. 

“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue. 

“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”

Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.

“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”

John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.

“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”

They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.

-x-

 “Gordon, that’s my finger.”

“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”

“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”

“Do you really need them?”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly. 

“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room. 

John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand. 

She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.

“Do I even want to know?” 

“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.

“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.

“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.

“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.” 

John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.

“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to  ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there. 

“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk. 

“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.

“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him. 

“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”

“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”

“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it. 

“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him. 

“Never,” Gordon agreed. 

-x- 

Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.

John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other. 

Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.

His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father,  but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all. 

John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.

It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.

Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body,  especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy. 

They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole. 

John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end. 

He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time. 

He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.

-x-

“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”

“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.

At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.

“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit  more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.

“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect. 

John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.

“That’s looking great.”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”

“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered. 

“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”

“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”

“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.

-x-

“Careful,” John warned.

“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”

They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.

“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.

“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.

John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.

“Thanks.” 

“Welcome.”

Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer. 

“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.

Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.

“String one.”

“Got it. Watch number four sail.”

“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”

“Sail three is flopping!”

“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”

“Maybe if I gather…”

“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”

“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”

“Hey! I can be delicate!”

“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”

“There, saved it.”

John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.

Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell. 

The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.

“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.

“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat. 

With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.

“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”

“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”

“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles. 

“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”

“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”

“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”

“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”

He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.

-x-

Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary,  feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.

The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.

He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.

He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with. 

Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.

Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John  and things had never been the same again. 

It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.

Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and  admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.

Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.

“Thanks, Bro.”

[vaguely-concerned]

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  

 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

-          remy                           rogue

                              🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 

baby u r my

 ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau 

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 

birds of a feather motherfucker  

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all) 

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

[takerfoxx]

The Owl House, Season 2, Episode 1, "Stranger Tides," First Impressions!

Yo ho, yo ho, it's a pirate's whaler's life for Luz!

Now, if you'll recall, a common problem I ran into while reviewing season 1 is that while I was definitely enjoying it, it was so episodic that I often found it difficult to find something new to say about each episode. There wasn't a whole lot carrying over from one episode to the next that I could really sink my teeth into and fill out a full review, with the plot not really kicking in until the final two episodes.

Fortunately, I did not have that problem here, and now that season 2 has started, I have PLENTY to say about its debut episode.

So, this is what you'd expect for the first episode of the new season, an episode basically intended to bring everyone up to speed on how the characters are dealing with the ramifications of the previous season and introduce a few new elements that will set the tone for the season to come.

And basically, things at the Owl House are...not really great. I mean, sure, everyone got away and it looks like Emperor Belos hasn't really made their recapture a priority (most likely deliberately), but thanks to Lilith deciding to share Eda's curse to neutralize it, they both have found themselves powerless. They're not completely without magic, but what they have left is so meager to be practically useless. All expect for Eda's detachable limbs. Those still work. For Luz, as she never had magic to begin with and had to work extra hard to get around that handicap and find ways to keep up with everyone else, that means she's suddenly the breadwinner of the family, the one with the most power despite living with two (previously) notoriously powerful witches, and thus has taken up bounty hunting (sort of ironic, if you ask me). For Lilith, that means coming to terms with losing literally everything important to her, from her power to her position as the Emperor's Coven's poster girl, having been replaced by a spoiled teen prodigy (and oh, ho, ho, we will get to him!) as well as her own feelings of guilt for having cursed Eda in the first place.

Actually, guilt is the main motivator in this episode. Luz feels guilty for having gotten Eda trapped and that Eda now has to prioritize what little money they have for Luz's sake, which motivates her to take on more and more dangerous bounties to try to make it up to her. And Lilith feels rotten for the curse and that the fix ended up sapping Eda's powers, so she's driven to find some way of making herself useful, which fills out this episode's A-plot and B-plot.

Meanwhile, Eda herself is...handling things like a champ, actually. Sure, she's not thrilled about losing her power, nor does she care for the sudden dip in respect from the locals as a result, but she's not wallowing in self-pity. No, she's working and innovating, finding ways to adapt and keep ahead of the game. And to rip off the Empire too, because fuck those guys.

So anyway! Let's start with our A-plot: Luz the bounty hunter. She's doing her best to keep her spirits up and keep food on the table, but bounty hunting is a tough job and because everyone knows that Eda is powerless, the bondsman has no problem ripping them off because he knows he can get away with it. Furthermore, with the portal gone, Luz's messages to her mom aren't getting through, which is weighing on her mind.

Okay, we already know that Luz's mom is probably going to get involved this season. I predict that at some point, Emperor Belos completes his repairs of the portal, and when he does, all those unsent message will suddenly spill out all at once, giving good ol' Mama a heart attack.

Sort've serves her right though, because, you know, G-RATED CONVERSION THERAPY!

But anyway, she overhears Eda talking about eschewing her booze in favor of getting Luz food she can actually eat, so she resolves to make it up to her by taking on the biggest bounty of them all, which so happens to be a magical creature called a Selkie-dama, which requires her to join a ship that's setting out to do that so she could get a cut.

A ship that just so happens to be under the command of Lilith's replacement, who also so happens to be the mysterious spy working for Emperor Belos that we met last season, whom we will get to!

Anyway, they fortunately rush through the bit of Luz proving herself to the crew, because who cares, King finds out agent's private room (in a reveal that calls back to a similar scene in Gravity Falls) and gets captured, and they find the Selkie-Dama, in which Luz shows us how far she's come by utterly wrecking shit.

Unfortunately, the bounty is stolen by a mysterious figure, and Luz isn't about to get ripped off again, so she goes after them, only to find that that SURPRISE, it's Eda, who figured she'd cut out the middleman and just steal the bounty directly, because you have to admit that that does make sense.

But anyway, none of that matters, because that's when HE finally is properly introduced.

Hear that? That's the sound of thousands of thirsty fangirls (and quite a few fanboys and fanenbys as well) shrieking.

Meet the Golden Guard. Yes, he's arrogant. Yes, he's sassy as fuck. Yes, he's voiced by Zeno Robinson. And according to his brief appearance in the OP...

HE'S A PALE-HAIRED PRETTY BOY, Y'ALL!!!

So. We now have this season's small antagonist.

And since Luz is the only resident of the Owl House with any real power (Hooty aside, but we'll get to that) and now with Amity as Luz's close friend (more on that later as well), that makes him Luz's new rival! Ooooh, I can smell the Enemies to Lovers fics already!

Yeah, it's gonna be a HUGE ship, but that's no prediction, everyone knew that anyway.

But while I doubt they're actually going to get together (though count on our bi-queen Luz getting smitten once she sees his face), I do smell a redemption arc for this guy. I mean, why would they make him so likeable otherwise?

Yes, he was a jerk, but he was a jerk in an endearingly entertaining sort of way.

But beyond that, I do note that he also has a tech-powered staff (seems to be the same one that held the palisman that Belos fed off of last season, but with an upgrade), and wields the same flesh-based magic as well. Now, his ears do show that he's not a human, but I still wonder if all that tech magic (which has to be manipulating the flesh of the Titan itself) is either a crutch for the magicless or a shortcut for those who want power fast.

Also, in addition to slotting in as Luz's rival, he also has taken Lilith's place as the face of the Emperor's Coven and also uses Eda's "BYYYEEEEE!!!" catchphrase, he's set up to be a foil to just about everybody!

Anyway, he's not here to take them out just yet, but instead forces them to kill the Selkie-dama. They don't, of course, and instead trick him into thinking that they did, but it does show that 1. Emperor Belos is content to leave them be for the moment, and 2. Emperor Belos is seeking the destruction of magical creatures. Huh.

Also, called it on Luz becoming Eda's teacher when it comes to glyphs.

But speaking of rivals and ships, the question over all of this is Amity, who's been MIA with a broken leg for a while. No doubt she's not going to be upset about Luz being stuck in the Boiling Isles, but if Luz does start crushing on Prettyboy Golden Guard, I can see her feel all sorts of upset about that. I still thinking that Lumity is endgame, but now she's got to work for it, and there is going to be angst.

Anyway, our B-plot has Lilith trying to make things up for Eda, by putting together a scrying potion to spy on the Emperor's castle. Nice, will probably be important later, but the real important part, in addition to her getting over her pride (not an easy thing) was the surprisingly touching friendship she's building with Hooty of all people! I didn't see this coming, but they honestly have some great comedic chemistry.

And honestly, I can see it. Lilith's first introduction to Hooty was him opening a can of whoopass on her and her men, and now he does it again to save her from the fire bees. Sure, he's weird and annoying, but he's strong and competent as hell, something that she would naturally respect. I honestly like what they have building, and the Lulu and Hooticifer nicknames were adorable.

And now, onto our brief glimpse of Belos, who still managed to steal the whole damned episode with just a few words. We see he's gone that long, white hair thing going for him, so not a rogue palisman. So, human or shortcut-exploiting conman. Regardless, just as he seems content to leave the Owl House be despite Luz having the key (which will definitely be important later), he also seems aware of the scrying, and has no problem letting it go on.

Okay, this season is shaping up to be a great one. And next episode is an Amity episode, in which her parents meet Luz, so let's fucking GOOOOOOOOOOO!!! on the Lumity teases and oh God NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! on the awkward cringe comedy that is sure to result!