#had to de escalate his shenanigans

[crazydaymycrazyway]

Inhyuk to the parent of an awakened child: I don't think we should jump into conclusions...I'm sure it was an accident and Jisuk is very sorry for what he did. Isn't that right, Jisuk?

Jisuk, eight years old: Accident? No, it was very much intentional

Jisuk: And I'd do it again, you piece of-

[watchtowerindistress]

the empath and the eldritch horror (4/5) - sparrow!ben x empath!reader

Summary: This was truly the end of the world. Both families chose to band together to get rid of the ball of lightning in the basement. Allison is showing her true colors, affecting Eight. And Ben is trying his hand at pep talks.

Word count: 6.8k (*cough* don't look at me)

Warning: language, angst, Eight's mental health (or powers?), violence, Eight's self-esteem, mention of smut, mention of drugs, Eight has a very specific tattoo

Author's note: This is the chapter I was most looking forward to 🎉🤗 Still between chapter one and two. If you know the gif, you'll know which episode this is set in. The last chapter will be then after the wedding shenanigans.

Full disclosure, when I first watched this season so many years ago, I felt like so many others, truly angry at Allison. It's why I didn't want to do a re-watch, but now I have a more balanced approach. Not to mention, yes, Eight is deeply affected by Viktor and Allison, but ... at the same time, she gets it in a way, so she's more neutral about it. I think the next chapter delves deeper into that.

This chapter is so long because I included the whole episode (almost) from start to finish. You're welcome. 😘

Please please please write a small comment or reblog this.

Series masterlist

The absolute impossible happened. Who knew that both Hargreeves families could get over their petty squabbles and band together to defeat a common foe? This time around they chose to acknowledge that the Kugelblitz signaled a more pressing matter in spite of the egos of some people itching to kill the others.

Ben followed after Fei by sauntering into the sitting room as soon as some of your siblings had arrived to start off the family meeting and to deal with the next cataclysmic event.

Ben frowned impatiently at Fei’s inquiry about Diego’s hand—it was probably half curiosity and half a morbid way of making friends by feigning interest. “We don’t have time for idle chitchat. Everyone, sit down.”

Diego decided to be his typical brotherly self. “Please would be nice.”

His partner in crime (as you lovingly called her in your head) called Lila chuckled at his antics.

Ben barely turned his head in his direction when he uttered with a serious, “No.” With a frown, he tilted his head, scrutinizing the guests with a subtle glimpse. “Where’s the Empath?”

Casting his suspicious gaze onto Ben, Diego narrowed his eyes at this fascination. Maybe this was the overprotective brother in him who didn’t like the idea of this version of Ben being mesmerized by you—for whatever nefarious motives. Since he didn’t want to imagine anything else going on there.

Stretching his arm against his thigh as he leaned forward, Diego demanded with an accusatory voice, “Why do you care?”

Ben waved a hand, smirking widely to get under his skin. “Maybe I’d rather appreciate the presence of the sensitive sibling rather than the knife guy bashing his head through the fucking wall.”

“You little-” Diego hissed.

This was the moment when you arrived at the Academy. “I heard someone requested my being here,” you sang, hoping to de-escalate any frictions with your arrival.

The tension in Ben’s shoulders dissolved. You reminded yourself to appear as easy-going as possible when you passed Ben. Trying to disregard the intense gaze he sent you over your shoulder. You picked the seat in the middle of the couch, between Diego and Five, just in case Diego and Ben decided to butt heads.

Mildly curious, Diego grumbled, “How can you even stand the guy?” while waving a hand in Ben’s general direction as a gesture of irritation.

This was just your idea of a good time. To be subjected to being the woman in the middle trying to mediate between two pig-headed guys.

You sat down with a sigh, sending Ben a teasing expression. “Sometimes he reminds me of you.”

Their reaction was instantaneous.

Ben’s face contorted into a grimace. “Don’t insult me.”

Simultaneously, Diego added, “Not funny.”

Fei and Lila’s chuckles eased the tension in the room. But this appeared short-lived.

“Are we done now with the little stand-up show? Can we get on with it?” This time, Ben branded you with his dark stare.

You exhaled heavily, choosing to grant Ben this small amount of silence and Luther the opportunity to say his part, due to him bringing everyone together. The absence of Klaus and Viktor was starting to concern you. It was the not knowing part which bothered you, especially since there was this specific tradition in this family to not tell anyone anything. So, the chances of being absorbed by the Kugelblitz or being kidnapped were equally high. Or they just didn’t care to show up.

As soon as your gaze wandered around the room, the darkness emanated from Allison like a cloud, prompting you to slowly turn your head. Wisps of dark smoke encircled her being more and more by every second.

When Allison’s gaze almost found you reluctantly, you mouthed, “You good?”

The coldness in her eyes froze you in place, when she muttered, “Never better.”

Luther distracted you from your anxious mind when he stood up to face the families. “So, uh…” He cleared his throat. “This is kinda nice, right? All of us here together. One big happy family.” Luther chuckled before he bent down towards Sloane who was sitting in a chair across from you. “I feel like I’m sweaty. Am I sweating?”

“No, you’re fine.” Sloane whispered back reassuringly.

“Look, I know there’s been bad blood between us,” Ben admitted with a carefree voice, like everything which transpired between the families was just water under the bridge already. “Whatever. Bygones, right?”

Faking a smile to speed up the process, Ben pointed at Diego as soon as he raised his hand. “Question?”

“Yeah, if I kill you, do we get our Ben back?” He said, prompting Fei to snicker in jest.

You sighed, leaning back against the back of the couch. Diego must have sensed the grim expressions on Ben’s face and yours when he added, “Hypothetically.”

“Guys,” you admonished your brother. You felt the itch in your fingers before you finally relented and nervously nibbled on of the snacks which was laid out on the table like a small peace offering or a more strategic distraction. Knowing you would need the food to get you through the rest of the meeting.

“Keep talking, and your hand won’t be the only thing bleeding,” Ben hissed through gritted teeth.

“Okay, if the testosterone twins are done,” Five interrupted before a fight could fully break out between the Twos, “I’d like to get back to a plan.”

The sudden appearance of Viktor was a welcome distraction. But that was before you detected the yellow tendrils of fear wafting around him. Viktor rushed in, demanding answers while alternating his gaze between Allison and Ben. “Where is he? What did you do to Harlan?”

Ben had the good instinct to sneakily take a seat between Five and you. You were grateful that you functioned as a buffer next to Diego. He picked up the tub of cheese balls from the table and placed it in his lap, watching (and relishing) in rapt fascination the drama unfolding. You felt an altercation between Allison and Viktor about to boil over, not knowing whether to step in or letting it play out. Judging by Allison’s pain, you felt concerned if it could be contained for long.

“They didn’t do anything. I did. I killed Harlan,” Allison stated without emotion in her voice.

You knew better though. Allison’s eyes told you how this deplorable action wasn’t as easy for her as she wanted to let on.

The longer you remained in their vicinity—especially when Viktor was added to the mix—an almost deafening sensation grew in your ears. You tried to keep your emotions in check, afraid of what would happen if you would let it erupt. Sometimes you hated being this vessel of empathy. Like you were just along for the ride or were some sort of empty glass while the emotions of others filled you with water, making it a part of you. Leaving you to yourself while you tried to stop it from overspilling.

Sensing the overflowing feelings of rage and vindication from Allison’s side and the pain and grief on both sides, you experienced their conflict at parts like some sort of tunnel vision.

“Because he didn’t deserve to live,” Alison avowed, expecting it to be a given.

Uncomfortable silence prevailed the longer Allison and Viktor remained in their stalemate.

You tried to get your breathing under control and focused on anything else than the clashing of ideologies. Needing to distract yourself, you tried to hone in on Ben’s mischief taking over.

“Twenty bucks on the little one,” Ben whispered to Five before munching on his snack.

“I’ll take that action,” Five agreed quietly.

“I know Harlan killed all of our mothers.” Allison’s statement pulled you back after only listening to their voices halfheartedly.

Your siblings erupted into shocked reactions at that turn of events. “What?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Viktor attempted to appease the rest of his family, despite Five and Diego’s vexation slowly taking over. “He—I knew him. And he was sweet and kind until I made him like us. Okay? So, I screwed him up. And if you need someone to blame, I’m right here-”

Yet, Allison didn’t care for any redemption of Viktor. She turned confrontational while she was burning for a fight. “What makes you think I don’t?”

Your eyes widened anxiously at Allison’s aura shifting into a mixture of a darker red and almost black.

“This wasn’t about saving the world. This was about hurting me. Payback for-” Viktor grunted lowly.

Gingerly, yet menacingly, Allison moved to her feet. “Go on. Say her name.”

With your eyes closed, you clenched your hands into fists. “Can we please stop?” You mumbled quietly. The provoking words of your siblings echoed shallowly while your breathing was turning heavy.

Ben shifted his head in your direction at the shift of your breathing pattern. The tunnel vision was still happening when you felt Ben’s hand covering the edge of your back, but thankfully without touching the sliver of skin. Just letting his hand linger in place. His warmth was perhaps one of the only things keeping you centered in the moment without going insane. Or at least without releasing an exaggerated amount of energy to protect yourself.

“To what? Help me grieve? God, this whole family is so quick to tell me to suck up my pain and so worried about fixing yours! Somebody had to pay because you never seem to. Destroy the world, kill Pogo, almost kill me, and for what? So we can all run around and clean up your mess? I’m sick of it.”

You could feel Diego’s concerned gaze dwell on you. “Take it easy, Allison,” Five interjected.

“This isn’t helping,” Diego added, knowing that Allison wasn’t exactly known for respecting the boundaries of others when she felt attacked as a person.

Ben shushing at both siblings, and anyone who were trying to get between Allison and her thirst for vengeance, reminded you he was still being an asshole. Even if he was being nice when no one was looking.

You sighed, rejecting his offered touch by leaning forward. Ben’s grumpiness was more than obvious. If you didn’t already sense it growing in him, then it was the small grumbling noise he made while leaning back.

As soon as Viktor tried to say his part, Allison yelled, “Shut your mouth!”

From across the room, you felt Viktor choking from Allison’s power upgrade. But this didn’t end there when Allison kept screaming, “Every time I build a new life for myself, you end the world and take it from me!”

Feeling angry for Viktor’s sake, Luther jumped into action. “All right, that’s it. Knock off the power shit, Allison. It’s not okay!”

The gratification grew around her when Allison delivered one last blow. “We should have left you in the basement.”

The unrest of your siblings broke out when she crossed the line. Diego jumped up from the couch with the others, commanding resolutely, “Whoa! Allison, all right!”

Viktor finally had enough when he slapped her in the face with the back of his hand. After being asked about her well-being, Allison assured them, “I’m fine. Let’s continue.”

You wished it was that simple.

With his footsteps departing, Viktor shook off his hand with rage.

“Sweet. You guys fight just like us,” Ben commented with a smug grin on his face.

There was sadness and disappointment in Diego’s voice when he elaborated, “Nah, man. We don’t fight like this.”

Once the air felt clearer with the absence of Viktor—or at least without a face for Allison to get mad at—you managed to breathe normally again. Your body still felt shaky when you stood up, needing a moment to come to your senses again.

Luther seemed to have read your intentions correctly, when he said, “Hey, Y/N, where-”

Blinking wearily, you murmured hoarsely, “I need a moment. I think everyone could use a bit of a break,” before walking around the couch.

Unfortunately, that meant crossing the path of Allison who eyed you with apprehension. As much as you wanted to avoid the confrontation. Allison’s arms were crossed when she faced you.

She smirked crookedly, tilting her head. “Have you decided to manipulate my emotions? Take my anger away?”

You felt too tired for any sort of conflict to arise again. As much as there was a lot unsaid between you two. Unlike her, you didn’t believe in manipulating other people.

Inhaling deeply, you gathered your strength. Truth be told, you had no intention of hurting her. With that in mind, you still couldn’t stop the pain from showing on your face. “I thought you knew I don’t force myself onto others,” you said almost in disappointment before leaving the sitting room and any of that lingering darkness behind. It felt way too obvious when the air you breathed seemed cleaner, less of a struggle.

You barely walked a few steps down the hallway when you heard slow footsteps follow behind.

“Where are you going?” The voice of Ben inquired expectantly behind you.

You sighed before you slowly turned around to face him. “I need some fresh air. Going up to the roof.” You smiled sarcastically. “Sorry I can’t enjoy the show.”

Ben looked over his shoulder to keep track of where the others were. The glittering in his eyes revealed his intentions before he even spoke. “You want to see my room?” Ben’s idea of flirting entailed him placing his hands in his pockets and letting the muscles in his arms flex.

As much as his concept of fun would serve as a nice distraction, you still couldn’t help the little awkward smile on your face. “You think the air’s better there?”

The earnestness in Ben’s eyes couldn’t fully diminish the mischief he had in mind when his eyes wandered up the stairs. “Well, it’s definitely secluded. No one’s going to bother you there.” His suggestion turned into something more teasing. “You could see how it looks in broad daylight.”

Leave it to Ben to try to cheer you up while the situation was so dire.

You chuckled. “Sure. No ulterior motives at all.”

Ben covered his chest in mock hurt. “Moi? What do you think of me? I’m just a nice guy who’s offering his private quarters as a small sanctuary for you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. Remembering how he could stir some trouble when it was fun for him before choosing to go in a completely different direction when it suited him. “Sure, nice guy.” You braced your hands against your waist. “Would you also give that offer to Diego?”

Ben’s face remained blank. “Right. Are we talking about the guy with the stupid hat or with his knife kink?” When you didn’t rise to the bait, he continued, “Don’t worry, I don’t care about their names. My hospitality does have its limits after all. Besides, you’re one of the few people I don’t mind being up there. You know, maybe I could help you take your mind off of things.” Ben offered, stroking your arm through your clothing.

It was with reluctance when you pulled away. “As much as a distraction would be appreciated, I need to be alone right now. Unless you still want that anxiety attack while being around me.”

Nonetheless, the reminder made him smirk. “Promises, promises.”

“Whatever you guys decide, I’m all for. Clearly you don’t need me for it.”

You still had your eyes closed when you heard the door on the rooftop slide shut. With your hands on your stomach, you were lying down on the cornice and enjoying some peace and quiet. The sensation of the familiar aura reached you, instantly letting you know who it was that joined you.

You breathed in deeply, thrumming your fingers against your abdomen. “I wasn’t aware that I gave off the impression that I wanted company?”

“I was being more than generous by waiting five minutes before coming out here,” Ben hissed, like it went without saying that he would show up.

You smiled serenely. “What a gentleman,” you whispered teasingly. Ben seemed to be in one of his moods. Judging by that, you surmised he met another of your siblings or one of his own who soured his attitude.

The auditory perception of a city burning from the assimilation of the Kugelblitz rang in the distance. The only thing out of place in this universe. With you lying on the cornice it felt like the good ol’ times … if you tried to ignore the abuse and trauma being inflicted on by Reginald.

Ben placed his arms next to your head and leaned his body against the waist-high parapet, exhaling loudly.

You cleared your throat, deciding to take his bait. “Something on your mind?”

Ben didn’t need more prompting when he just as quickly replied, “You know, your emo brother is really something else. I mean, being stubborn just to stick it to someone or because they didn’t get an apology? Talk about pathetic and spiteful.”

So, it was frustrated Ben who needed to vent.

You sent him a small smile, watching him upside-down. Or more like to the side. “Yes, because you could never be spiteful.”

Ben waved a hand in vehement agreement. Humor was shining in his eyes when he smiled. “Exactly. You really get me.”

He eyed the bricks in the low wall. “Sloane, Lila and Christopher are going to work together to contain it. Viktor, as well, if he finally gets off his butt.”

“That’s good.” You blinked at him, feeling like he was reluctant to tell something else. Which didn’t feel like Ben.

“I came here because I told the others they would need your help in beating this thing.”

Astonishment filled your belly with uncomfortable heat. The blood rushed to your head despite you slowly sitting up. Your feet dangled at the sides of the wall. “Why would you do that?” You said with a husky voice.

“You have all these abilities at your fingertips, you just won’t use them.”

You shrugged your shoulders, surprised by Ben’s insistence. At feeling enraged on your behalf. Especially since he only knew you less than a week. “I’m just an Empath. I can’t control stuff which … probably isn’t even human.”

“You’re not—you’re not just one thing. Do you even see what you’re capable of? I’ve seen it. I mean, converting energy? Projecting illusions? And you’re supposed to be Number Eight? What the hell?”

“The numbers don’t really mean anything. I mean, Viktor is like Number Seven.” Even you could hear that your arguments sounded feeble. After so many times of being told to be one thing by Reginald Hargreeves, it felt like second nature to tell Ben you weren’t what he said you were. It felt surreal to have someone other than Diego in your corner claiming you were more than you wanted to acknowledge.

Ben shook his head. “In another universe, you could’ve been a Sparrow. I mean, what just happened in there?” He pointed back to the Academy. “You could’ve influenced everyone in there and be done with this shit.”

“That’s not me. I do that to people who hurt us. Not my own family.”

“No, that’s not it. You know what I think? You’re just so scared to show your true potential. Show them what you can do. I’ve seen you. If you were able to blast me away by creating a shield of kinetic energy, you should be able to hold something else in place.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ben’s advocacy on your behalf, feeling overwhelmed by his mere presence. “Why are you so adamant in analyzing all of my powers? Is this your plan to recruit me? You already gained Luther. What else do you want?”

“I’m trying to help you. You could be so much more than just the girl who feels stuff around her,” Ben said with utter passion in his voice, making the veins in his neck protrude.

“Wow, I’m being psychoanalyzed by you because I’d rather not take care of a ball of lightning? So, tell me, what else am I supposed to be afraid of?” Yes, you were being defensive, but maybe a small part of you actually wanted to hear someone state objectively—more or less—that you could hold your own to someone like Allison or Viktor.

Well, Viktor was kind of a big deal. You favored the possible outcome of at least standing firm against him for about five minutes or without instantly dying.

“You’re terrified of losing them. How they would react to the magnitude of your true self. You think everyone is like Dad. But they’re not. Screw everyone else if they are.”

Wow, resilient Ben was something else. Especially if he defied—at least mentally—someone like his father. Knowing it would be a long time coming before he would actually turn away from him.

You remained silent, trying to process his analysis before you finally found your voice again. “Did you give Viktor the same pep talk when you tried to rouse his participation?”

Ben smirked at the memory. “You know I can be very inspiring.” He sighed heavily, offering his hand. As if it took a lot out of him to even provide the gesture. “Come on.”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. After some hesitation, you exhaled and reached forward until you felt the warmth of his hand. Trying to pretend you didn’t sense Ben’s respect for you once you touched his bare skin. He helped you down from the cornice.

You sighed, knowing that time was of the essence. “Let’s just do this.”

As soon as Ben and you headed down to the basement, you noticed how both families were already gathered.

Five turned around, with his arms crossed. “Nice of you to join us. Wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Diego wearily rolled his eyes. “Five’s just being Five. He didn’t have his coffee yet. We could use your magic touch, you know.”

Truth be told, Five always felt like a dark horse to you. And someone who behaved like an old man when he finally blinked back. Sometimes you just wished that you could actually get to know him. Not just the stories of legendary status about the outlier of the family who first defied Reginald. It felt like this was the only thing keeping you from truly becoming a part of this family. As much as you yearned to be. Running from one apocalypse to the next didn’t make you feel like Five even had the time to get to know the newest member of the family.

“You okay, kid?” Diego asked quietly, appraising your eyes for any mental harm shining through.

You nodded calmly to cease him from worrying too much. Something else caught your eye though. With wariness you scrutinized the Kugelblitz in the center of the basement. “So, that’s the thing, huh?”

Fei stepped forward. “If you mean the entity which is responsible for the collapse of micro black holes absorbing everything around it, then yes.”

“And absorbing billions of people so far. I don’t think we have a lot of time,” you said anxiously.

“No time like the present then.” Ben clapped his hands once, ready to get rid of the universal threat for good.

“Okay, how do we start?” Viktor inquired with a curious mindset.

Sloane did the honors of explaining. “Have you ever moved a nest of bees? You can’t just pick it up. You have to keep the nest calm while you build a box around it, and then you trap it.” Her eyes met yours. “Ben said you could contain it. Keep your shield over mine.”

You merely nodded in understanding.

“One of those black holes inside is vibrating at a different rate,” Fei continued.

“I can feel them.” Viktor nodded.

“Good. Whatever happens, don’t let them speed up or change, or everything will blow.”

“Don’t shake the bees. Got it,” Viktor replied to Fei.

He started it off by becoming paler and controlling the vibration frequency, with Lila mimicking his actions. As soon as Sloane used her gravitational powers to condense it, you pushed forth a telekinetic shield from within to keep the entity contained.

Grace’s voice spoke faintly from the stairs. “You didn’t tell me you were building a prison for God.”

“Mom?” Diego asked confusedly.

“The day of vengeance was in my heart and my year of redemption hath come,” she said ominously before pointing a flamethrower towards anyone standing in her way.

You kept one hand focused on the ball of lightning while stretching out your other arm, using an encircling shield to keep them safe. Inadvertently, the flames started to lick Grace’s skin. “Does anyone mind? Not good at multitasking here,” you said while keeping your eyes set on this universe destroyer.

Five had the good sense to blink her away before Diego would have to take care of his surrogate mother himself.

The moment when everything was calm again, Christopher disintegrated into smaller cube pieces, containing the Kugelblitz. You watched in suspense, feeling Ben move closer to you.

Sloane held Luther’s hand. “Next Kugelwave in three, two, one.”

Everyone held their breath. Counting the seconds after the destruction was supposed to take place. Almost like you expected something wrong to happen.

You were studying Christopher when the sentient box released a fart.

Exhaling a breath of relief, you looked at the others while chuckling.

You could swear you even heard him utter audible sounds which sounded close to, “Oh, was that me?”

The Sparrows certainly knew how to party and have a good time. Once the Kugelblitz had been dealt with, Sparrows and Umbrellas alike danced and drank together. Diego was a good sport by cutting off the top of champagne bottles with a katana before Ben poured the alcohol into the flutes of any willing participants.

You had the perfect view from the couch while Ben was getting sloshed and kept on filling Five’s champagne glass. It was actually hilarious to witness.

Diego was having fun dancing while balancing the longsword and jostling Ben from behind every time he tried drinking straight from the bottle.

You eyed the approaching company joining your lonesome self.

“Is someone having fun?” Fei asked with a smile.

You lifted your glass for show. “Already did. This is me relaxing and enjoying myself.”

“I saw that. You and Sloane seem close.”

You narrowed your eyes, remembering you dancing with Luther, Diego and Sloane at times. Your relationship to the Sparrows was slightly less tense than you were used to. But due to the power struggles within that family and maybe some hesitation in your own family, you still decided to keep your distance from Ben.

Despite the dark-eyed stares he was sending you from across the room. You remembered the few times when he leaned his body against your back while playfully filling up your glass when it was starting to empty. Ben’s body language was more than obvious that he wouldn’t mind a few dances with you. But you also knew he would never do that, especially with his family members watching.

“Well, of course, she’s a sweetheart. Not to mention, Luther’s lady love.”

Fei hummed. “So, you like solitude, huh?”

“Sometimes. Keeps me calm.”

“Well, Allison just left, so your mood should definitely increase by not feeling her presence.”

You shrugged. “As long as Viktor and Allison are not in the same vicinity, sure.”

“That was some good work you did in the basement. It really makes me wonder though … the fact that your family didn’t advocate your skills in the first place. I mean, why would my brother throw your hat in the ring? He seemed really certain … that you would deliver.”

Fei’s suspicious mind being disguised as interest didn’t put you at ease. “What do you mean? He just wanted this entity out of his basement. The sooner, the better. Now he has one less thing to worry about.”

“Just curious about his involvement, that’s all.” Fei braced her arm against the backrest of the sofa and leaned closer in a secretive manner. Giving off an impression which bordered on threatening and being your best friend. “Sounds very altruistic. The problem with that is, Ben isn’t the selfless kind, he always has something else in mind. I mean, he mentions your name and instead of sending one of your brothers, he’s getting you himself? Sounds interesting, don’t you think?”

Your eyes caught Ben who was already staring at you and Fei with a frown. You gazed speculatively at Fei again. “Is there still some internal power struggle I should know about?”

Fei threw her head back to cackle, like you had said the most entertaining thing ever. “Isn’t there always?”

You bit your lower lip and stood up. “Why the curiosity?”

Fei remained seated when she looked up at you. “Someone has to keep their guard up. I’d hate for you to turn into my enemy,” she said monotonously, so matter-of-factly.

“Ditto.” You checked your surroundings to watch out for the remaining guests. Noticing how Lila just followed after a departing Diego. Maybe it was time to slowly hit the road while things were somewhat amicable. “You know what? I think I’m going to hit the kitchen if that’s okay. I need to get some food into me.”

She waved a hand to indicate her consent. “You do that.”

~ Ben POV ~

The moment when you left the room, Ben was certain something had happened. The strange look you sent him before was the first clue that something was off. He grabbed Fei’s arm when she was about to cross the room. “What did you do, Fei?”

She smiled innocently. “Do? I didn’t do anything. Just had a little chat with your Empath.”

Fei calling you by that nickname left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Ben spoke through gritted teeth, “About what?”

She tilted her head to stare straight at him. “You, of course. You’re quite fascinated with her, aren’t you?”

Ben let out a scoff before smirking. “So, you can’t see it? What she’s capable of? Someone who can control the feelings of others? Unlike you, I see the big picture. Proves why you’re not Number One, huh?” He turned his head, knowing that the party was winding down. “You’re saying she left already?”

Fei crossed her arms and enunciated, “Your little Empath was just hungry.”

Absentmindedly, you appreciated the cold taste of Rocky Road in your mouth while sitting at the kitchen table.

“So, this is your idea of celebrating?”

Not realizing you were being watched since you were so distracted from your wayward thoughts, you looked up to see Ben leaning against the doorjamb. “This is me eating my fill.” You let your scoop-filled spoon hover in the air and smiled giddily. You glanced down, taking out another spoonful. “You know, since I’m having a taste of you.”

Ben tilted his head, huffing with small laughter. “Sounds hot.”

You rolled your eyes at that dirty mind of his and moaned, letting the frozen dessert melt in your mouth. “Not like that. You guys even have an ice cream brand and actually keep that stuff here.”

“Right.” With that, he stepped forward into the kitchen.

“I mean, it’s alright. Probably way too overpriced.” Your enthusiasm awakened and you turned your head to look at Ben. “Wait, does Christopher have a flavor?”

“Birthday cake.”

“Huh, not what I expected. Weirdly fits,” you muttered under your breath and shook your head to clear your head. “Anyway, just decided to have something to eat, otherwise I would just fall asleep. Fei said it was okay.”

Ben wandered to the cupboards, opening and shutting drawers. “There is still a bed, you know. Still hasn’t changed.”

You chuckled, pointing with your thumb behind you without looking. “Behind me.”

He pulled out a spoon and arrogantly waved it around. “Right, I knew that.”

You nodded, pursing your lips at his make-believe. “Sure you did.”

Ben got himself a taste after sitting on the bar stool diagonally across from you.

You slid the tub closer to the middle of the wooden table. “Besides, don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He didn’t seem to agree when he frowned in confusion. “Why is that?”

You laughed, like it should’ve been obvious. “Because of your sister? She probably has her crow spies everywhere. Especially after today.”

Ben chuckled to himself and widened his eyes sarcastically. “Wow, get over yourself, you’re not that special. Was just offering a bed. Purely platonic.”

“Don’t be such an asshole.”

“Told you, I’m nice guy Ben.”

His statement made you observe him silently and place your fist under your chin. “Sure you are.”

“I heard the two of you had a conversation. What did Fei want to talk about?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not getting in the middle of whatever it is the two of you are playing.”

“Can’t change the nature of people.” Ben licked the cold treat from his lips. “Still didn’t answer the question. What made you want to flee for the kitchen?”

Sarcasm made your eyes light up. “A healthy appetite.”

“If you say so.”

“Not going to divulge more, in case you want to further examine the details of my powers into your Eight dossier.” Sometimes you had to catch yourself from saying more. Since you had been seconds away from straight-out telling him that overexerting yourself just made you hungry in general. And if it was a good enough excuse to evade Ben’s sister, then so be it.

Narrowing his eyes in incredulity, Ben felt disgruntled for your sake. “Is that such a bad thing wanting you to expand your powers?”

“Not if it’s just your intent to gain some sort of upper hand.”

Ben’s eyes darkened seductively when he pointed his spoon at you. “You’re saying I still can’t persuade you just a little bit to join our little ragtag group of Sparrows?”

You leaned your body forward mischievously. “Are you saying I can’t appeal to you to join our band of misfits instead?”

Ben scoffed loudly, straightening up in his seat. “Hard pass.”

A self-assured expression lingered on your face when you spoke with a dry tone. “Right. Who knew our families could work together after all?”

“Oh please, only a few of them are bearable.”

With warmth in your cheeks, you felt yourself gush, “Look at you making friends. I’m so proud of you.”

Ben smirked mockingly. “You’re hilarious.”

Your mind went back to the party, remembering the unusual side of Ben just having fun. “Were you trying to get Five drunk?”

Ben chuckled. “Someone’s got to keep the old man in line.”

“Priorities, hmm?” You sighed, looking outside the window above the sink and noticing how dark it already was. “Anyway, I have to go. You know, not to overstay our welcome. Thanks for the dessert.” You closed the lid of the tub and jumped down from your seat.

He smiled sardonically. “I wish I could say ‘Anytime’, but, you know, still got a reputation to uphold.” Ben copied your stance, staring directly at you under the dim lighting.

Willing to play his little charade, you smiled softly. “Of course you do,” you retorted, wordlessly taking the spoons and placing them in the sink. You heard Ben stash the ice cream back into the freezer before he closed the refrigerator with a dull thud. You could feel your skin getting warmer the longer he was watching you intently.

You tilted your head in concentration and felt your eyes light up when Ben’s emotional state came in waves towards you. “Why the curiosity?” You turned around until you were gazing at Ben.

With a rough and quiet voice, he twirled his finger while muttering, “Turn back around.”

Pursing your lips with a humming sound, you followed his request and looked through the window which oversaw the courtyard. “You don’t expect me to tell you where the knives are, do you?”

Ben snorted at your imagination. “You think this is an elaborate ploy to stab you to death?”

“I don’t know, Brutus. Could be an interesting endgame.”

“Then tell me, what do you feel right now?”

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply to center yourself. “Your playfulness, your curiosity.” You opened your eyes again when something else reached you. “Oh wow, you can’t wait to touch me, huh?”

Exasperation was added to the mix when he stepped closer. Ben exhaled heavily before you could feel his presence behind you. His warm breath tickled the back of your neck and his fingers danced around the nape of your neck, gently brushing your hair to the side.

“Are those goosebumps?” Ben purred.

You chuckled, watching Ben’s reflection through the window. “To spare your ego, I think I’m gonna have to decline to answer.”

“What’s that?” He asked, stroking the ink on the back of your neck.

You licked your lips almost in anticipation. “It’s called a tattoo. I don’t know if you guys have that in this universe.”

Ben ignored your amusing nature when you threw him a sassy look over your shoulder. “What’s it stand for?”

“What makes you think it stands for anything?” You whispered, getting lost in this intimate atmosphere.

Frowning in concentration, Ben analyzed the tattoo. You already knew what he was looking at. The base of two pyramids overlapping and facing each other, with a respective line drawn horizontally beneath the apex of both triangle shapes. His fingers carefully traced the shapes before he spoke slowly, “For sure. Very intricate lines. You probably picked this because you thought it looked cool, right?”

“I made the draft. Klaus was the one who held the needle.”

“And Klaus is … who?”

“The guy you punched?” When Ben showed no further reaction, you continued, “When we arrived?”

“Right. For a second I confused him with knife boy. Since, you know, mentally, I punched your knife brother-”

You rolled your eyes and interjected, “Diego.”

Like you hadn’t said a thing, Ben continued, “Countless of times in my head.”

You sighed, remembering the pure form of testosterone being released every time they faced each other. “You two shouldn’t even be in the room together.”

Ben’s voice turned mockingly lighthearted. “Oh, you promise?” It shifted into something mildly curious. “Keep going.”

You teasingly asked, “What do you think it means?”

“Putting me in the spot again? Alright. If it’s coming from you, they’re probably … the alchemy symbols for the four elements?”

He already knew.

You huffed, lightly shoving him back with your shield of energy. “Fucking asshole.” You turned your body. Despite your furrowed brows, an astonished smile still lingered on your face. You had to respect him for the hustle he was playing while pretending otherwise. Or at least his subterfuge as a way to touch your skin.

Ben braced himself against the jostling chairs with his hands while one tentacle shot out to keep his balance. Slightly taken aback by your vehement reaction, he chuckled, letting pure joy shine in his eyes. “Wow, was this as hot for you as it was for me? I like this version of you.”

You chose to ignore his idea of flirting. “I can’t believe you were trying to screw with me.”

The tentacle retracted into his stomach again. “I wasn’t. Well, not totally. Doesn’t explain the reason behind it. Why the four elements?”

“I figured after Reginald forced this tattoo on us, I should choose for myself what I really want to do with my body. And I learned while Klaus and I were experimenting with his recreational stuff-”

You appreciated the small moment of real and unguarded whimsy in Ben’s eyes. Something candid than just the sarcastic kind.

“I learned that my powers would enhance when I was connected to some of those elements. Like some sort of physical conduit. Showed me that everything was connected around me. That my mind could settle when everything around me was calm.”

His body language shifted into something more calculating with his next words. “Maybe you should just influence your environment, so you can finally calm your mind.”

“That would be more like a temporary solution.”

“Perhaps you should just stick with me. This way I can show you a better perspective than what your family is offering you.” Ben placed his hands in his pockets. “It could help you sleep better at night.” Almost like he was reminding you of his proposal, he widened his arms. “Offer still stands, you know.”

You chuckled. “Maybe next time,” you said, merely delaying the inevitable. With a small sigh, you advanced towards him until there was barely any distance separating the two of you. With delicate motions, you touched his neck, letting warmth wander through your fingertips.

His skin started to glow dimly under your hand. Wordlessly, he covered your hand with his. A part of you wanted to believe that he wanted you to burrow yourself deeper into him.

Ben inhaled deeply. “I’ll hold you up to that.”

Tagging: @cherryinsalemverse @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @lelaamela @kit-k4t @callsignwidow

[vyrion]

hi my final for my psychology class was to write an analysis on a fictional character and identify a disorder and treatment options for them. i wrote about jay ferin from hit d&d podcast just roll with it. the paper got graded (i got an A, yippee) so here's the post!

a warning for spoilers up to episode 98 (primarily from 53), canon-typical topics, and. normal capitalization and punctuation .???

it's also available to read on google docs if that's any easier ^_^

Just Roll With It is a Dungeons & Dragons podcast, taking place in the world of Mana: a place largely made up of the sea and sporadic islands, where both pirates and Navy soldiers roam free. An unlikely trio of two humans and a triton—a race of undersea fish-like people who are able to live both under- and overseas—unite primarily out of convenience, working with each other to pursue their own individual goals. Chip, Jay Ferin, and Gillion Tidestrider form a pirate crew they call the Riptide Pirates, sailing the seas as they make allies and enemies alike. Their crew seeks to aid others, fighting for the freedom to sail the seas against a Navy organization known as R.A.F.T. amongst other shenanigans. They’re entangled in plot after plot, fighting for freedom, justice, or sometimes just plain old treasure. Across their adventures the trio find themselves learning more about the other two and their histories, along with how to trust each other.

The trio stumble across dozens of events—inciting a revolution on an island overtaken by R.A.F.T., making deals with a wish doctor to free a town of a curse, venturing into a Navy prison to free an old friend—all the while seeking their own answers. For Chip, he seeks to find Arlin, a man he considers his father, who he lost after the previous ship he’d been aboard sunk. For Gillion, he seeks to fulfill his destiny—as a prophesied hero to choose between land and sea, he’s searching for the right answer when it comes time for his choice. For Jay, she seeks answers about her sister, who died a year prior. The circumstances around her death are unclear—it’s thought that she died in combat, and Jay had previously been told that her sister had died in combat, but the more evidence she finds, the less clear it becomes. 

Jay Ferin is a 21-year-old human female. She hails from a prestigious Navy family, with many of her family members holding its top positions. She co-captains a crew of pirates alongside Chip and Gillion and is often regarded as the most reasonable of the three due to her tendency to not pull punches and aim for direct solutions, however she still has a tendency to be just as if not more chaotic. She’s strong, innovative, and incredibly observant, taking the role of the ship’s navigator and unofficial lookout. She refuses to back down from a challenge until it threatens her or her crew’s lives, but still knows when to try to de-escalate a situation. Conversely from that, she has a tendency to play along with the others’ antics, often playing a role in escalating their energy. Her proficiency lies with ranged weapons, first a bow and later a revolver she has modified to better suit her own needs as a result of her interest in tinkering and mechanics.  

She abandoned the path set by her family to become a Navy officer in order to seek more information about her sister’s death, and eventually betrayed her family to fully dedicate herself to her co-captains and crew. Despite this betrayal, she struggles heavily with defying what she views as authoritarian figures and breaking away from the path her family has laid out for her. When forced to confront her father and choose between her family and her crew, the only way she finds herself able to resist is when he’s knocked out of the room, giving her the necessary room to flee. It’s due to these reactions and circumstances that I believe Jay struggles with a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD.

The American Psychiatric Association (2000) describes PTSD as most notably caused by exposure to a traumatizing event, such as “actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence.” Jay most likely developed PTSD after her sister’s death a year prior to the beginning of the campaign, in addition to the abuse she endured as a child. She repeatedly mentions that her sister’s death is the reason she began adventuring in the first place, seeking answers. Jay considers her sister one of her primary role models to this day, wondering whether she would believe what she’s doing now is right or if she’d be proud.

In addition to her sister’s death, Jay was raised in an extremely strict environment, with severe consequences for stepping out of line or misbehaving. She mentions how her father had once shot one of her dolls due to a belief that she was not focused enough on her training. She isn’t allowed passions or interests that don’t assist her progression in the ranks until she takes a break from her education after her sister dies, instead working with her mother at their family’s tavern. Even then, she’s constantly asked for strategic advice and manpower, being one of few people in the town who have any experience with weaponry to deal with bandits and a nearby thieves gang and isn’t really able to disconnect from her family or anything outside of what she’s always known. Adventuring with Chip and Gillion provides her the reprieve to reassess what has happened, along with giving her the chance to develop on her own for the first time. 

Jay is extremely passionate about invention, often working late into the night to create gadgets of both mechanical and magical use. It’s a passion she was not allowed to pursue as a child in favor of strategy and combat training, and one that she only begins to delve into once she is much more comfortable with her surroundings away from her family. She takes extreme care for her work, spending days or weeks perfecting a single mechanic that she’ll use throughout their journey. Her skills and passions are recognizable enough that she was invited to join a crew working to get to space when the time was right, which she accepted with excitement. Given that her time with the crew is the first time she was truly able to step away from the same things that surrounded her for most of her life, it’s easy to assume that she was unable to pursue this interest until she was in recovery. Her growing interest in it the longer she’s able to take time to heal proves that during the initial stages of PTSD she didn’t take any chance to engage in these activities, something that she’s always dreamed of pursuing further.

While it’s evident that she still struggles with PTSD, this is evidence of an important step in her own recovery. She’s given the freedom to explore a passion that she both wasn’t allowed to and didn’t have the motivation to pursue during the initial onset and is now able to take active interest in it.

Jay is also a naturally observant person, taking notice of things far before anyone else in the crew is able to. She’s on high alert at all times to the point that she’s the first person to scout ahead and find any traps they may stumble across. This hypervigilance, a reactive symptom of PTSD, gives her a quick reaction time and allows her to defuse a threat quicker than it can act, but also means that she may find threats where there aren’t any or approach a situation with unnecessary caution. Her observance has saved them on more than one occasion, but it’s also caused its fair share of problems. She struggles more when she feels she’s being watched from a source she can’t quite pinpoint, and will often force the crew to work around threats—real or not—that she perceives.

Early into the crew’s journey, Jay is shown to frequently grapple with nightmares. These often relate in some form to her family, loss of control, and the Navy. One instance in particular she dreams of being found by a Navy fleet and tries to run away in a panic. When she believes she’s woken up, she takes out a keepsake of her sister’s and reassures herself that they hadn’t found her. This keepsake falls apart in her hands, turning into blood, and feels specters of her family watching and mocking her. When she actually wakes up, she reassures herself that her family doesn’t control her and that they haven’t found her. She stays up the rest of the night, unable to sleep any longer. These types of distressing dreams and difficulties with sleeping are intrusive and reactive symptoms of PTSD.

In a modern setting, the primary focus of treatment would likely be therapy, which allows Jay to reassess what she’d been through and come to terms with it. In some ways, she has already begun a form of self-treatment by removing herself from a hostile situation and giving herself a far better support system, along with slowly embracing parts of her that have less association with her family. Her mental status has improved significantly since the beginning of the campaign as she’s less frequently getting nightmares and is willing to talk about her sister, whereas she completely shut down conversations related to her before. Jay has been willing to deviate from her primary goal of finding out what happened to her sister but still keeps it in mind. She won’t be content until she finds these answers—treatment options as a result may include reconsidering what this goal means and what, if any, resolution it may bring her. If she has further plans for this information, then discussion can go from there, but if not it may be best to try to guide her towards coming to terms with what has happened and living for herself instead of in search of her sister. 

Jay’s portrayal of PTSD is something integrated as part of her character—its symptoms show naturally through her response to triggering events and times when she’s forced to face her family. Her condition may have been severe towards the beginning of the campaign, but over time, by reconciling with the reality of her family’s treatment of her and her theories as to what happened to her sister, along with finding a group of people who thoroughly support her, Jay has been able to begin to heal.

[plasticfangtastic]

Of The Same Poisonous Ilk. Ch. 1

A Homelander Fanfic

Author's note: this is a slow burn fic hope y'all like it, put all the tags that will be applicable to this story, already.

Sypnosis: As if God himself had decided to play a prank on him, Homelander is finally blessed with a true equal... Himself... yet not quite the same.

R18+ Violence, gore, smut, selfcest, butchlander, homewell, discussion of sexualization of minors, child abuse, femlander/ladylander, multiverse shenanigans, canon divergent but set between s2-s3 for age reasons, darkfic, 3some, bi-lander.

chapter one

A cloud of billowing dust tore through the halls, shaking the ground with the echoes of its roar, the lights flickered all across the cherry wood ceilings, Homelander stood still as his assistant covered her head after ducking behind him, spilling her coffee all over his red boots– before he could scold the bumbling idiot, he catches a glimpse of light behind the thick cloud of dust.

Inside the dust blanket was another figure crawling away from the towering stranger, chuckling madly yet stinking of fear as ‘It’ followed him, each step heavier than before cracking the floor.

The dust collapsed, Homelander finally caught a clear glimpse of the monster– covered in grime and grim, lifting its gaze, its wounded, eyes welling behind the furnace beneath, the man squirmed mostly unharmed, taking the opportunity to jump back on its heels panting as the foul smelling particles dry his tongue.

She was perfectly designed.

Watching an uncanny colored reflection staring back at him as if his presence gnawed at her flesh, in the way her brows twisted and her jaw twitched, he saw an angel…for the first time in his life he was truly speechless– and he was a master speaker.

This was cruel, a sick joke but he could never mistake the familiar light of his rage.

He stood perfectly still for a minute ogling at the strange and the carnage dressing her, then down at Ashley coffee cup as if the hypothetical spiking could be transmitted thru light fumes, Ashley shivered watching the wall collapse and crumble around that strange woman’s fist, So quick he hadn’t heard the burnt cloth draped around her back make a sound– the second figure crawled under her fist, she had missed the speedy fucker by a half a foot, she growled delivering a swift kick without patience, before the figure could muster a word its body launched straight past Homelander and Ashley, cracking his skull.

The woman freezes, her heart stops, catching herself and feeling the panic settling in, holding her breath until Homelander notes it's still breathing, jaggedly and slow but the man still hanging on.

Both figures looked at each other as relief painted itself on the stranger, a happiness that died shortly after as both figures dared looking at each other trully.

“Are we doing a pin-up?” Ashley asked meekly, her voice a whisper as she looks at the strange beauty– what the fu–

Homelander bares his fangs putting himself between the wounded stranger and the woman, lifting his hands with his most photogenic smile trying to de-escalate the situation, regardless of who this woman was– she wasn’t a lowly human, and regardless of her attire she wasn’t a crazed fangirl either. She was dangerous, and something about her made Homelander excited, he took tentative steps towards her feeling electricity in the air.

The stranger straightened herself, squeezing into her leathered glove, her stripped cape soiled and burnt, burning marks damaging the fabric on her legs– her socks more holes than anything practical.

Looking at her suit it was eerily familiar, the more he witnessed her this odd anxiety stabbed at him, the outfit seemed like a joke– thigh high socks, familiar red boots reaching her knees, the top semi-identical to his except for the exposed window to her beyond generous cleavage, the fabric unmistakably his, it material looked thick and needlessly bulletproof, the padding was perfect applied sculting her shape, her belt snuggly around her hips just a tad smaller than his own, and the leather of her gloves smelled the same, the metal eagles had a weight to them from the look of them… had the cape not been damaged it was likely to be the same length as his.

“Look at them for one more second and I’ll melt your eyes out, you cuck.”

Lifting his sight takes his breath away, two perfect red lights looking less than tenderly.

He grinned, returning the gesture.

“Try it, I don’t doubt I’m stronger than you.” She spoke with a soft american accent– What is it Johnny? James? Jim?”

“Who are you?” Homelander looks behind him counting the increasing seconds in between the decaying heartbeat– and who is that guy?”

“You. And that fucker is the reason I’m here!!” She pushes past him in a blink, smashing Homelander straight into the wall, the frame splinters around him, crashing him straight into the office behind, leaving the Supe out of breath– "I told you to take me home, Leaper!!!”

He clutches at his body, gasping, his mouth filled with a familiar yet alien ferrous taste, his mind buzzing as the stabbing ache in his stomach makes his mind go white.

By the time he lifts himself he stumbles into the hall, clinging on his body desperate to soothe the unexplained pain, the woman is holding the bleeding stranger with tears in her eyes.

“Take me home!!” She cries– I want to go home!!” Her voice is no different from a frightened child, sobbing uncontrollably as the man fails to respond– please… no more… I wanna go home” her voice cracks into a feline yowl as she begged– wake up!! Wake up!”

She cries cradling the stranger, her blonde locks falling messily into her mouth as she screams, her broken toy barely winces and gasps.

It had taken a lot of force to get the woman to separate from the stranger, even more than Homelander had ever used in his whole life to pin her down, the 89th floor was destroyed leaving half a dozen casualties and a two dozen injured from that confrontation, his hand constantly feeling the fresh scab on the side of his hair, his suit had burned and the torn, skin had finished healing leaving a dark pink and purple mark that had never once graced him before, it was as if a blind child had fingerpainted him.

The Deep and A-Train had taken the stranger dubbed ‘Leaper’ by the female, the man had been put in a chemically induced coma to help with the swelling in his brain but it would be up to god if he woke up.

Homelander had never fought anybody who returned his punches with the same force– hitting her was hitting a titanium wall he couldn’t bend and crack, as he licked his wounds, he felt a warmth brewing in his navel.

Two high ranking scientist stood in the same room with the woman, she had calmed down knowing that this Homelander was able to match her in a fight had forced her docility, inside this white dull room she played meek, not wanting to play more games with the older man– Homelander had been forced to manhandle her, forced her to comply and guard her as they hosed her down, he had kept invisible hands squeezing at her neck, her exhaustion too great to fight him any further.

The men far too giddy than Homelander and Ashley would’ve liked– but how could they not contain their excitement when this woman was living proof of the existence of parallel dimensions. 

She sat silent in this small room for hours, listening to the scientist drabble yet offering no response.

While examining her possession the first cosmic disturbance was found on her Iphone, as they seeked to charge it the security guard had noticed it had a USB-C port yet it appeared to be an authentic model– in her person they had found her dead phone, a handkerchief tucked in her boot embossed with the letters ‘J.S’ and a pair of dog tags that had been wrapped on her wrist, the name “ Col. Jon Mallory” was printed on the tags, with the words ‘Medal of Honor’ beneath.

“What’s your name?” Dr. Park asked– how old are you?” He had circled back to the first questions.

He pointed the camera at the blonde, she was a beautiful horror, her blonde hair swept behind her ear, short, limp and wet just barely past her chin in length, a vertical line stood out on her forehead just like his own, her eyes an intense shade of blue and her skin held a healthy tan— Homelander couldn’t stop staring at her and neither could she.

“Homelander… I’m 33 years old… I’m the Leader of The Seven” before Homelander could enter and accuse her of being a nutjob, Dr. Park hovered in his seat ensuring his recording equipment was still functional– I’m the Homelander of The United Republic of America… of Vought America whose headquarters are located in San Francisco, California not New York City.”

“Are you claiming to be an interdimensional traveler?” Dr. Park asked as he sat back once again.

“This is my fourth dimensional hop.” She looked down, squeezing at the thin fabric, trembling at how exposed she felt without her weighted blanket– I began this race after ‘Leaper’ one year ago… I crossed paths with him… the first time I met a version of me… Jonathan… a Vampire… that was fun” She scoffed knowing how ridiculous she sounded– I was just in a world devastated by a fucking alien invasion, where I met a version of me called Jon” Her wrist felt naked without those dog tags–

She took a deep breath looking down onto the bare table, listening to Homelander’s heartbeat.

“… but before that I encountered a human version of me named Johnny who was on some grand revenge quest Vought… against their Homelander… William'' She looked in his direction knowing that the two-way mirror was more decorative than practical– do you have a William? Wilhelmina? Victoria?”

“William” He replied quietly, earning a smile from the younger woman.

“I thought he would finally send me home… we jumped before they landed–” She rested into the metal table scratching her scalp violently– God dammit!! I… I couldn’t stop it–

She sobbed softly, her fist shaking in her lap.

“I just want to go home. I want to go home. Is Leaper going to survive!?” she cried.

“We will know more of his condition by tomorrow” Dr. Strauss replied looking at Dr. Park unsure of what to believe just then– so tell us about your America? Who founded it?” but he was ever so professional.

“Charles Lee.”

Now Homelander couldn’t control himself, jumping straight into the room, just tearing the wall with unbridled enthusiasm.

“And Washington?”

“What about his second in command?”

He grinned as if he was seven years old again.

“Did you have a Lincoln?”

“He was murdered by Booths, then the coward killed himself the day after… WW3 Jon already did this 21-question thing with me” She pouted, cleaning her tears, something about that Jon made her smile and Homelander had no idea why, he wanted to prod further in return– So did this America was divided between the English and The Spanish? Did you have Allies and Axis? Did you even have World War two?” she asked.

Trying to think of anything but the war, so she focused on that childish glee before her.

“Only the English and yes… to all of that” he gulped– why?”

“Was it France, Portugal and Korea?”

He found the image absolutely ridiculous, Homelander shook his head and pushed Dr. Strauss off his chair.

“No, it was Germany, Italy and Japan! God was it us, the brits and the soviets as the good guys?”

“What are these Soviets?” She cleared her sniffles, raising a curious brow at his direction.

“The Russians after they overthrow the monarchy become the Soviets?”

She tries to imagine the scene.

“The Bolshevik did not succeed, Tsar Nicholas the third ruled Russia until 1962… but the Russians were our allies, I gather there aren't any monarchies left in Russia.”

He shook his head.

“Interesting.” he seemed giddy and she seemed glad– if you are really me… let’s say I believe you…”

Ashley found it hard to believe he doubted her, she was a copy of him just with bigger tits and a smaller ass, her nose and cheekbones the same if anything her lips had more shape, even her intonations sounded familiar, she was already a truther.

“Can you prove it?” He muttered leaning closer, bearing fangs almost growling at the thought of fighting her one more time, wanting to feel the ache to make sure it wasn’t a strange dream– I guess your name would be Jean? Jenny?”

“Joan– after Joan of Arc… and you?”

“John.” it tasted bitter in his tongue but he indulged her, as she got closer he caught a whiff of sunflowers– so can you?”

“Did your version of Jonah also sat you on his lap and read you Huckleberry Finn?” Homelander moved back catching the blinding light of her eyes– do you also have a friend who kept you safe in the Bad Room?”

“Turn the camera off…” Dr. Park did not hesitate, taking to the wall clutching at the camera.

“You had Jonah too…” his voice cracks slightly, swallowing cotton.

“Was he your dad? I used to think he was my dad but when I got older he said I wasn’t his daughter… because I was a failure…” The woman looked exhausted, the fresh bruise in her neck aching– or is he still around?”

Her gaze rested on the table, her eyes heavy and her throat parched.

“Did you kill him?” Homelander looked away.

“I killed his daughter” Her voice was so cold– "If I was such a disappointment I might as well earn the title.” 

Homelander stood up offering his hand, and turned to the scientist.

“Ashley, have Isadora fix her costume immediately. You should come and stay at my… our Penthouse? not going to let her stay here– not that these walls could contain you anyways.”

She took the gloved hand enjoying the familiar comfort of this leather, following him trying to bury the anxiety that his demeanor brought her.

Even if it was in a different universe the layout of the building was the same, the building had been evacuated leaving them to wander peacefully, in the last three worlds she hadn’t been able to get close to home, this wasn’t her building but it might’ve as well been her own– the pictures adorning the walls were knock-off of her own, the bust and statues uncanny imitations, but her heart found some calm inside this twilight-zone set, the lights were the same and so were the flower arrangements.

She clung on the man who was the same height as herself, squeezing at the bulky padding, he guided her inside the home.

It was a copy of her own, the layout and decorations almost identical, where Washington stood she expected another man, the colors had been different and the bust faced the opposite direction but the couch and bed were hers, she had hovered gently towards the leather couch sinking into the cushions seeking for that familiar feeling, her exposed skin painfully sensitive, she wrapped herself on the fur throw soaking the hypoallergenic perfume, doing everything not to cry as she felt the fabric tease at her skin. Homelander watched her with scientific curiosity, her every move made him uneasy, the more he catched a glimpse of her eyes the more they looked like his own, would it not be for the obvious physical and chromosomal differences he could see her as more than an identical twin– she wrapped herself further into the blanket elated at the texture.

My sister, he thought.

If she was him… and he was her… they shared more than just blood… they shared all the bad, all the cruel, all the wondrous, all that shaped him– could she understand him? could he finally have somebody to talk to about all the things he’s kept locked up? The sight of her filled him with anxiety, as if Homelander wasn’t meant to look close at this woman.

He thought of the number that had been mentioned ‘33’ . She was younger, Joan was young enough to have something still in her life that had abandoned him, was this why she desired to go home so badly? Could her world still hold a Madelyn? She was a girl so there wasn’t any possibility that this one could share the same relationship he had with her, this was a Madelyn still unspoiled by the selfish pursuit, before she had to ruin everything that made it work, before she tossed him aside and forgot about him, there had to be a Madelyn that cared for her, was she more mother than confidant? Was she still in her office waiting for him to come in?

He made his way to the couch, tugging at the blanket, she peep bothered that her fantasy was interrupted.

“Tell me about yourself… I promise that our scientist will do anything in their power to keep this Leaper of yours alive, we’ll bring him back” he spoke softly not wanting to scare her, taking his glove off– so talk to me. about your life… maybe your William or Ryan, or The Seven… Do you have a Maeve? Stillwell” Madelyn came back into mind, the ghostly touch of her fingers caressing his hair, in this young version of him was the possibility of feeling her touch once more, so he would be a good perfect gentleman if that was the sacrifice he had to take for Madelyn, a Madelyn without accessory– maybe Noir. Or How this Leaper works, We don’t want him escaping and leaving you behind, do we?”

She pushed herself away from him, keeping an eye on her clone.

“He can only open one portal at a time and cannot close if any living being that crossed with him also crossed the door, so I have to cross it alongside him or he’s stuck there too– he didn’t know that’s how it worked with two people. I’m tired you know…”

That was a whole hour or two of explaining that she had no energy to give him, but he seemed okay with that.

“Wilhelmina Butcher… my Billie– she’s the biggest thorn on my side… I almost miss her, I bet the bitch and her group are celebrating that am gone.” her voice hides no melancholia– No matter where I go I always find a Butcher y'know… that human version of me– us. he felt in love with his William” she chuckled thinking of the last Butcher– Colonel Butcher on the other hand– fucking hardass but…” She bit her tongue, feeling her cheeks itch.

Homelander turned pale, clearly not hearing past the first part.

“He had an affair with that Supe version of William, and when he tried to end it– he killed his wife Margaret… looking at the pictures outside I gather that one is your Maeve…”

Homelander crawled back into her blanket, hiding her whimper leaving the older man far too curious as to what made her react in such a way, she was unstable, holding herself on thin threads, he wanted to know but knowing it was futile, and he wanted to vomit.

“Can I sleep in the bed? I haven’t had any sleep in two days… Jon and I… we were trying to stop the attack but before I could help him we found Leaper and he threw me into this world…” her lips smiled but her eyes welled up, her voice cracking from beneath the blanket– I promise we can talk tomorrow… is just too much right now, my ribs are hurting like a motherfucker.”

The way she dodged that story lacked grace but he simply watched her far too eager to learn as to what tomorrow would bring.

“Sure, my hands hurt from hitting your ribs” Looking at his knuckles he found a layer of green under his skin that had never been there before– I’ll have the staff bring you some–

Homelander's lip dropped slightly, catching himself staring as the young version of him discarded the hospital garb, in the lowlights of his dark home he hadn’t missed a detail– she was beautiful and quick.

Joan was tall, her form sculpted by masters, everything about her shape was flawless, not a single blemish or mole touched her tanned skin, her body had every curve a woman should had never meeting a hard edge, but he knew those toned arms packed a killer punch, she turned to see him raising an eyebrow not bothering to stifle an annoyed chuckle.

“You don’t sleep naked? You’ll be the first… altho Jon did make sure to sleep with his undies on”

He shook his head trying to hide the red blush coloring his cheeks, nudity was natural for him, his form was exquisite and supple so there was no reason to hide it other than modesty, yet seeing it reflected back at him made him embarrassed, had this been a male version of himself, had this been the Jon that Joan spoke of he had no doubt he’d felt nothing, but seeing this female body, with its peach shaped ass and her more than ample bosom, he was reminded that he was still a man.

She ignored him taking to the bed, checking the bruises on her torso, wincing louder than anybody would for a pain that was alien to the goddess.

She turned the light off and crawled into the bed knowing full well that other version of her was watching, unable to shake his sight from her.

He sat on his couch watching her sleep for an hour before being disturbed by a text message saying that her phone was fingerprint locked and would take a couple hours to crack it, something about the other universe system being different.

He found himself hovering above her, closing his phone ready to perform a silly experiment. 

He floated on the edge of his bed as the woman rested deeply, lifting her hand just lighty enough for her naked thumb to press on his phone screen.

His heart skipped a beat.

When his phone unlocked, something broke inside his mind as he looked at her and her red eyes.

[starchivist]

Baby Kenobi

i don’t know how to write serious summaries/synopses, so you get this: obi-wan gets ambushed with the daughter he didn’t know he fathered while she’s roaming the galaxy looking for mama in a sort of reverse finding nemo. shenanigans and accidental fix-its ensue.

warning for below the cut: none that i can think of, aside from an extremely confused narrator

Stitchup hates everything about this.

“Look, sir, we’re just travelers,” he insists to the trio of bounty hunters, simultaneously glad for and resenting that this mission required he be in civilian clothes and not his plastoid shell. Behind him, General Kenobi is calm and still, letting Stitchup be the focus of the standoff. After all, Stitchup might have a face that’s repeated by a few billion others, but that can be fixed with a bit of contouring — and the hunters are from a race of sentients that are wired more for overarching shapes than small details, meaning his voice is the thing most likely to give him away as a clone in this situation. Jedi High General Obi-Wan Kenobi, on the other hand — his face is far more singular, and his accent is very distinct, which means he has a much higher chance of being recognized if he speaks up.

The hunters buzz, clearly unconvinced. “Sure,” the lead hunter says, the translator at their throat crackling faintly. “Listen, bucko, you can’t seriously think we’re that stupid. General Kenobi’s ship crashed here, and I can’t think of any other reason for a clone trooper to be here. Can you?”

Motherfucker. He’s been suppressing his accent, dammit! “I’m not a trooper,” he tries, knowing his General is about to do something idiotic if he can’t de-escalate and get them out of here. “I’m just a traveling doctor,” he says levelly. “That’s all.”

The lead hunter buzzes again, derision dripping from their stance. They take a step closer—

“Papa,” a young voice says, and only sheer professionalism save Stitchup from jumping about a mile in the air. He turns to see a small humanoid girl trotting up to General Kenobi with Great Purpose, going right up to him and tugging on his sleeve. “Papa,” she says again, a soft, chirping rumble beneath her voice. “I can’t find the right tools — they’re all for droids ‘n engines.”

To Stitchup’s utter shock, General Kenobi doesn’t miss a single beat before playing along, bending down to meet the girl and chirping back.

“That’s alright, Anate,” he says gently, his Coruscanti accent somehow completely gone and replaced with something else. “We’ll just keep looking, yes?” Then he makes this — crooning, trilling sound, and the girl responds in kind with a warbling purr.

“Okay,” the girl says, reaching out her arms when General Kenobi stands in the universal request to be picked up. Again, General Kenobi plays along as flawlessly as if the two of them had rehearsed this beforehand, scooping her into his arms and settling her against his chest with a quiet “Hup!” She makes another purring noise, shuffling as best as she can to get more comfortable, then finally turns her attention to Stitchup and the bounty hunters. “Hi,” she says, peering at the hunters past thick, feathery white hair that covers half her face. “Are you policemen?”

The droning buzz of the hunters is, this time, very clearly uncomfortable. “Policemen,” the hunter on the left echoes carefully, stepping forward and crouching, their blaster holstered in the same movement. “Sorry, kid, my translator doesn’t recognize that. Wanna tell me what that means?”

[ggsworldstory]

Pilot

At the wall

A young boy wearing a red top hat that had a gold crown at its brim sits in his cell, with a look of hopelessness on his face.

“Ok, maybe not a good place to start with, you’re probably wondering how I got here.”

“First’s things first, my name is George, but my friends, er one friend calls me, GG. What does it stand for? … I don’t know, I can’t really contact the person who gave it to me.” “As for how I got here, if this little thing on my head isn’t any indication, I'm a member of the Toppat clan, for my whole life, in fact”

“Yep, you heard me, I was born to THE toppat clan…….’s submarine division, not many people care about it compared to the big guys, like airship, but at least we don’t have to worry as much about the government going after us.”

“As for how I like it personally? Eh. sure I couldn’t really go anywhere myself, and the view of the ocean got old, FAST.” “but I got 3 meals a day, a stylish hat and both my parents are alive, heh, not gonna lie, I definitely miss them.”

 “They always celebrated the small things: First steps, first words, first eye glow, first piece of metal melted.” “My family has a history of these weird elemental powers, My mom wields electricity while my dad wields fire, so naturally, I get both.”

 I got pretty excited when they promised to “bring out my full potential” but it just amounted to constantly being told, “burn through this” and “short circuit that” I couldn’t even do it right most of the time.” “It's especially discouraging when I hear about all the cool stuff my parents use their powers for,the massive flame blasts, the blackouts,can’t help but feel a little inadequate…”

 “Anyways, this all started earlier today, I was in my room, practicing mario 64 speedrun tricks, when I heard my parents come in.”As he walked in, dad uttered,

“So, how are you doing, son?” sounding slightly nervous.

”Ok, what’s the bad news?”

 “Wait, wha-?” 

“You say that everytime you’re about to tell me or mom bad news, and I should know, because I do it too.”

 mom then replied, attempting to de-escalate the situation “I wouldn’t say it’s bad news, quite the opposite, you’re finally going on your first solo-heist!”

 I felt my heart damn near jump clean outta my ribcage “Wait?! WHAT?! I can barely melt a crowbar or power a lightbulb, and now you expect me to do a heist all on my own?!” I panickedly spoke. Desperately trying to calm me down, mom said, “well that may be true, but we figured you could use some field experience before we head to the orbital statio-” “it’s the captain’s orders, we don’t have a choice” dad Interrupted “Sweety! not so blunt!” mom shouted

“Ugh captain Sharkbite, not fond of that guy at all,it gets annoying having my parents get orders barked at them more often than my feet touch the floor, very annoying, and when they’re not doing that, they’re always blabbering off about fish, boasting their razor sharp teeth, or being jealous of some guy with a train and a big gun.”

 Dad then tried to reassure me saying, “I know this is a tad sudden, but we do believe in you” he said before giving him a hug. “Ok, I feel better”

“Great!” Mom replied “be at the front of the submarine in 1 hour.” I simply gave a thumbs up as the two left.

From there, I'd say I reacted rationall…y by screaming hysterically. “I DON'T FEEL BETTER AT ALL! AAAAAHHHH!”

 Enter, Jessica, my best friend. She had long orange hair, a blue hat, cyan neckerchief, orange and blue eyes and orange shoes. She even has elemental powers as well (water and earth to be specific) not sure how exactly she got em though. As much as I love my parents, sometimes it seems like she does a better job at keeping me from doing stupid crap than they do. Even if we’re definitely prone to more than our fair share of shenanigans and mischief, she can be a bit in over her head at times, but she’s always so supportive of me, she even gave me my nickname, and this cool crown and.... What was I talking about again? Oh, right” 

“Something on your mind?” she asked “I then explained the whole situation, and like any good friend would, she offered me a helping hand” “what if I went with ya?” she suggested “then it wouldn’t be much of a solo heist” I questioned. She then relayed to me her plan in more detail. It sounded pretty good to me, so I agreed

One hour later

I walked up to the front of the submarine, where the captain greeted me, handed me an earpiece and described the goal to me, “yer task is simple, get in, get out with so much as a single coin, get to the nearest body of water and press the red button on yer earpiece and you’ll officially be part of the clan, be careful however, no toppat has actually set foot in this place, but it’s the last place for you to be able to steal from before we head to the orbital station, good luck lad.”

 They then pressed a button, causing part of the ceiling to lower and the entrance to the sub’s cannon to be revealed. I've seen plenty of others get launched out of it to their heists, I was definitely not excited to learn how it feels myself. I got in, taking deep breaths every step, as the door closed I could hear dad yell out “Give one of the guards a big smack for me!” Unbeknownst to the others, Jessica was waiting in the surprisingly spacious cannon, which she entered through the roof after the back door closed. It was comforting having her along with me for this. “3…2...1” I hear the captain announce, before slamming a button, “Launch!” They shouted, and we were off

Truth be told, I don’t remember much from the flight, I just recall a loud bang, screaming, and a nasty earache.

It’s almost like our division has no goddamn idea how to spend the little portion of the budget we’re given.

Anyway, I woke up to Jessica who said, “you ok?” I told her I was and she replied, “good,cause it looks like we’re here” 

Thinking about that sight still sends shivers down my spine, before me stood the largest casino I’d ever seen, the building was large, blindingly bright, lacked windows, was plastered with all kinds of card and luck based imagery, and at the center there were three golden letters, “MOC” with a small banner reading “Mansion of cards below it”

I gulped, took a deep breath and nervously muttered, “well, here we go” and tried to step inside, but jessica quickly stopped me, exclaiming “woah, woah, you don’t just waltz into a place you’re about to heist from!” before leading me to the less, glowing side of the building, examined it a bit, then let out an “A-ha! An unguarded vent! Amateurs.” She then used a large rock  to break the vent door, and we began to make our way through the tunnel.

As we were crawling, I talked a bit more about what I was going through, “Jess, ya ever wonder if there's more to life than just getting shot out of a cannon, taking crap, then leaving?” sounding concerned, she responded with, “I dunno, but what’s making you think so hard about it now? Usually you seem content making the most out of your life on the submarine. “'Well, yeah, but it’s just a lot of pressure thinking about the whole, ‘this is the rest of my life’ thing, especially when I'm no good at it.” I said back.

She took a moment to think, before telling me “I get you’re feeling boxed in, but who knows? Maybe a curveball’s coming your way that’ll let you pick a new path in this crazy life, and whatever it is, i’m sure you’ll find a way to enjoy it, like you always have!” I’ll admit, that definitely helped me feel better at the time.

After some time, we finally made it to the main vault and I was mesmerized. Not just by all the money, but also the feeling of doing something right for once, albeit with some help. I think Jess was trying to explain something about what to do next, but I was too distracted by the feeling of sheer awe I was in.

That, was when I made the biggest mistake of my life

I picked up a coin from the massive money mountain before me to get a closer look.

Then an alarm went off.

I was immediately taken out of that previous feeling of awe and in its place was sheer fear and panic, I turned to Jess. She was trying to tell me something and was waving her arms in a signaling motion. I think she wanted me to calm down but I couldn’t hear her over the booming siren and the constant stomping of the approaching security.

So I did the first thing that came to mind in my flight-or-flight instincts, I ran, I ran, ran and ran like hell.

As I was panickedly sprinting, I remember a strange sensation in my legs, as if some kind of energy was sparking out of them, making me run faster.

But I didn’t have time to focus on that, I only had one thing in mind: Getting the fuck out of dodge.

The guards began rushing towards me, I felt my eyes widen with fear, and as before my instincts were at the helm and I tried to swipe them away as they approached. I recall a similarly strange feeling, but it was more so as if something was burning and I could swear I saw my very hand engulfed in flames.

But as before,I didn’t have time to dwell on these anomalies, I could only keep running, faster and faster, as the barrage of bullets as well as other weaponry grew louder and louder.

I’m not sure how far I ran, but I got a good distance outside the casino. And by the end of it all, I was exhausted.

My arms and legs were in intense pain, I was coughing and wheezing, my head felt incredibly light, eventually I could barely stand, and eventually collapsed on the ground.

When I woke up, my earpiece was gone, so I couldn’t talk to the captain or anyone else, and I found myself here.

I’ve never been to the wall, but I've heard more than enough about the immense cold, depressing gray ‘aesthetics’ and the view of the massive drop to the sea from the windows. I guess word got around about my attempted robbery pretty quickly, or I was out for a long time. I also remember the many warnings about this place I got from other toppats, about it’s infamously high security

Either way, that’s basically my story. I fucked up, got stuck here in this notoriously inescapable hellhole, and now, I can’t help but wonder; is this the end?

At that moment, a mysteriously enthusiastic yet simultaneously threatening voice cried out to the seemingly hopeless Toppat, “Or is it just the beginning?”

GG looked around, confused, before noticing, a crack steadily growing on the cell’s ceiling  before it broke.

After the dust settled from his landing, the mysterious figure revealed himself, a tall man with yellow and purple eyes, sporting a dark purple and yellow jester hat, and a big, ominous smile.

After the mysterious figure made his landing, GG could only sit there for a few seconds before asking “Who the hell are you?”

“The name’s Lown, K.Lown! Entertainer, extraordinaire!” The jester exclaimed

“...ok, but why are you here exactly?”

“Is that a serious question? Any performer worth their salt knows where to find a frown to turn upside down!” K.Lown yelped as he began to play a goofy tune on a kazoo he pulled from his hat. 

GG simply stared at the jester as he questioned what the hell was even happening. Before eventually speaking, “Uhhh, thanks for, whatever this is…? But I don’t see why you’re going outta your way to do some party tricks for some guy stuck in the wall.”

“Ah, impatient aren't ya? I always save my big disappearance for last!”

“Wait, really? how are ya getting me outta here?” GG stated, sounding slightly annoyed

“Hmmm. I hadn’t quite thought that far, hmmm, how about this!?”

He yelled out as he grabbed GG’s arm and jumped out the window. At this moment however K.lown began to show his true acrobatic prowess as he leaped to the rock wall adjacent to the window before bouncing back to the side of the wall, repeatedly doing so, gaining height until he reached the roof of the complex. “How’s that for a big disappearance?”K.Lown proudly shouted, GG didn’t say anything, as he was in a large amount of shock, still trying to process what he just went through. 

Unfortunately for the two, the wall’s security quickly caught on two their escape attempt and soon enough, a large group of guards had them at gunpoint.

K.lown simply chuckled, Chucked GG high up in the sky, before roaring out, “Can I get a volunteer from the audience?!”

 As the gunfire rushed towards him, the clown somersaulted through the volley and right into the fray, pushing the crowd of armed guards,who were now left confused and at risk of shooting their own through the chaos.

All of a sudden, one of the guards noticed their assault rifle was missing from their hand. All of a sudden the group hears a whistle from behind them, they turn around to find…

K.lown holding one of their assault rifles, with a big, crazed, clownish smile. He laughed maniacally as he unloaded the hoard’s own ammunition against them, while quickly maneuvering to avoid the shots coming to him as well.

When all was said and done, K.lown jumped down from the roof and onto the front of the wall, which was a mostly empty field of snow, he then raised his hands into the air for GG to land perfectly on them, which he did... For a brief second before plopping face first onto the ground, at this point he was knocked out cold, so jester simply dragged him into the back of one of the wall’s trucks that was conveniently nearby and drove off.

Several hours later…

GG woke up in the dark back of the truck, greeted by a brief silence, before it was abruptly intruded By the clown’s booming, “Ta-da!”

“So we’re really out?” GG Skeptically inquired.

“Believe it”

“Truth be told, I don’t remember much after you… jumped out that window…”

“Eh, nevermind that, we’re outta that winter wasteland, now just sit tight and I’ll get ya where ya need to be.”

While he was thankful for being busted out of the wall, GG was still overall confused by everything that was happening and figured he might as well try to get some answers, “if you don’t mind me asking, are you sure  you know where you’re going, Lown, was it?

“Why of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Well I never saw or heard about you back home and I wanted to know how exactly you knew the Toppats.”

“Oh Toppats, schmoppats! Do you really wanna spend all your time in some sticky space resort, surrounded by lunatics?”

“Sure I’m not good at stealing and such, but it’s my home, my family, they’re probably worried sick right now…”

“Don’t you worry my heterochromatic friend, everything will be alright once we reach our destination, and whadya know, we’re here!”

As the truck stopped, GG excitedly walked to the back of the truck, K.lown then opened the doors to reveal…

The same casino that he had just come back from robbing and barely escaping

“Well, come on in!” K.lown said as he casually walked towards the building

“You coming or what?”

It was at this moment, GG began to question the motives of his new friend(?) He knew he needed to get out of this somehow, but he also knew that K.lown was quite the powerful individual, considering all the acrobatics he pulled off while getting him out of the wall (even if he wasn’t conscious through most of it). GG tried to back away in silence, but the clown soon interrupted with, “Don’t tell me ya got stage fright!”

“No, o-of course not, I just think… uhh, maybe it’ll be harder for the wall to find us if we split up..?” GG nervously retorted, as he turned around and began walking faster.

The jester let out a slight chuckle before responding, “Don’t try to make me laugh, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” he then springed towards GG. His shout however, put GG into full panic mode and he began to run for his life, unfortunately he kept on bumping into buildings, statues, as well as other of the city’s setpieces that kept him from going at top speed as the jester chased him down.

After some time, GG ran into a dark alleyway to hopefully hide and catch his breath, at that time he could only stand there and hope the demented entertainer wouldn’t find him. But he did notice, as he snuck up from behind, and punched right on the back of GG’s head, leaving him unconscious once again

“Talk about playing your cards wrong, you shity screw up.” K.lown smugly quipped, before dragging GG to the casino.

When he woke up, GG’s arms were stuck to shackles in the ceiling of a small, dark room, filled with strange devices and a glass door was in front of him. Soon enough, GG noticed a man approach the glass door, while he couldn’t quite see well in the darkness he knew it wasn’t K.lown, the man was wearing a dark blue top hat with a red stripe at the bottom, had some short, brown hair and black shoes, before long he spoke in a low stoic tone, “So, you’re finally awake, allow me to introduce myself. My name Is Dice. H. Roller I am the owner of the casino you and your partner have foolishly intruded upon.”

GG’s eyes widened realizing that Jessica could be here as well. “What did you do to her?!” He quickly bellowed, Dice was indifferent to his reaction however. Simply giving a, “hmph, such insolence.” before continuing his monologue, much to GG’s frustration.

I assume you’ve already met my second in command, you may be wondering why I sent him to get you out of the wall just to put you in another jail, are you not? Well it’s quite simple; I believe stealing from someone like me is a serious crime, and the wall’s idea of punishment is… inadequate.” he said as he reached for a remote control in his pocket and pushed one of it’s buttons. Suddenly the once nearly pitch black cell, glowed with the many instruments of torture surrounding GG “When those are done warming up, you’ll be experiencing the kind of pain that hell only wishes it could put one through, don’t fret, child. It was only a matter of time before those insatiable toppats would try to get their hands on my fortune, and thus, it was equally inevitable they'd lose some of their members trying to grasp such an unattainable treasure, at least they’re losing clear deadweight like you, you can keep that speck by the way, think of it as a reminder of how much of a failure you are.”

 GG then noticed that even after everything,he still had the single coin he originally took in his pocket. Dice chortled and walked away.

GG then noticed a countdown near the top of his cell, presumably for how long the torture device needed to warm up, he could only stay there, watching it slowly countdown to zero and reflect on how things got to this point “well, I fucked up,Couldn’t do a heist on my own, couldn’t stop myself from raising an alarm, couldn’t stay out of the wall, Couldn’t tell that clown wasn’t trustworthy when I had the chance and I couldn’t even do anything right with or without Jess’ help”

 As he continued to look around his cell, he noticed on his left, a window into the cell next to him, and he couldn’t believe his eyes when he realized, it was Jessica! She was was knocked out at the time, given how she had already gone through a round of torture while GG was gone. Without hesitation, GG immediately tried to get her attention, “Jess, Jess! Wake up, it’s me!”

Soon enough, she awoke, “huh…? GG? Oh no, oh fuck no, you’re here too?”

“Sadly, look, I’m so sorry, I left you behind back there, I can’t do anything right can I?”

“I-it’s ok, you panicked, but there’s no time to dwell on that. Especially with that ticking down”

The timer was only at one minute until the machinery had finished warming up

“So, do you have a plan?” GG promptly asked

“I think… even through all of that hell I might have a bit of power left in me”

Even though he was suspended in the air, GG could feel the ground faintly shaking beneath him, then a hole formed under him, it wasn’t particularly large but it looked like he could fit inside it.

“That tunnel should take you right outside of this city, after I take care of your shackles, I want you to go through, run for the hills, and never look back.”

“And you’ll follow after, right?

“...”

“Right…?”

“GG,you’re not a ‘screw up��� sure, you sometimes act without thinking, but you’ve always been there for me, you’ve always inspired me with how you always roll with the punches, treating all the struggles in your life as challenges to overcome and never giving up no matter what shit gets thrown at you. Promise me you’ll keep doing that.”

“I’ll try” GG said as he used his elbow to wipe tears from his eyes

“Good, even with all the shit that’ll happen to me here, it’ll be a bit more bearable knowing you’re still out there”

“Jess…” GG muttered before Jessica used a stream of water to slip his hands through the shackles, consequentially making him tumble through the tunnel before ending up at the Las pay-gas border “wait, wait!” He shouted, but Jessica had already closed the tunnel behind him to make sure no one else would go through it and find him.

Despite the feelings of gloom he was going through, GG took his friend’s words to heart, and was determined to not let her down. And he dashed off into the night, and into a new life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of Pilot~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next

[thelaithlyworm]

DMBJ Meta: Bai Haotian

So, since I’m in the middle of a Sound of Providence rewatch (I’m up to the murderous puppet theatre), I’m also having thinky thoughts about one of the supporting characters, Bai Haotian, also known as Xiao-Bai (Little Bai).

She’s present in the webnovel as well, incidentally, though she and Warehouse 11 are much less filled out. Anyway. (Some spoilers to follow.)

So Little Bai is a short drink of water, tiny, bright-eyed, who appears when Wu Xie enters W11. She’s extremely helpful, and also extremely mysterious, but after several mini-adventures it’s revealed that the giant flaming crush on him is entirely genuine and also, she’s a third-gen manager of the Warehouse (which is why she knows so much). In season 2, she’s recruited for the Thunder City arc as a diver; in the second half she’s involved in the W11 shenanigans that fill out the season. 

She’s adorable in her own right, but what interests me in the narrative sense is how much she is like Wu Xie when he was a Baby Adventurer, Very Staunch. Young, brilliant, family connections to weird shit but also very sheltered, doggedly loyal to the people she admires. She’s got a lot of talent but also needs some teaching and seasoning before she can compete in the big bad world. Does that sound like our Xiao-Xie? And it’s nice to having someone in that ingenue role since he’s thoroughly aged out of it by now, but also.

If we treat Xiao-Bai as an analogue for Young Wu Xie, in that story Old Wu Xie is a mash-up of two different roles - Xiaoge (his long-time crush) and San-shu (uncle, mentor, tricksy manipulative bastard). And I think that Wu Xie, at least, is aware of the parallels.

So when Wu Xie tells her, “You’re young: you don’t understand the difference between love and worship,” is he also talking to his younger self? Is he looking back fifteen years to the young sprat he was and kindly patting that boy on the head for being enormously silly but sweet? Does he think whatever his *waves hand helplessly* Thing with Xiaoge is, it’s stronger than that or does he also worry that after all this time he’s still... the wide-eyed infant to Xiaoge’s tired self. I mean, on the surface level she’s just found out he’s dying and he wants her not to grieve so much so he’s trying to de-escalate her feelings, and that’s a solid bit of story-telling right there. But Xiao-Bai, and Piaopiao for that matter, have a lot of parallels and resonant themes with what’s going on with the Iron Triangle, and I think this is one of them.

And! A large part of drama plot is Wu Xie’s drive to prove that San-shu (the first one, at least, the one before the Xisha Shipwreck Tomb) was a decent man. That whatever bloody deeds he had done, he was forced into it, that he meant well, that he was doing his best.

The point being, this is Wu Xie post-Sand Sea, where he spent most of a decade being tricksy, manipulative, pragmatic, bloody-handed, using his allies as harshly as his enemies. The actor Zhu Yilong made sure we remembered that every morning he spent extra time painting a bloody great scar on his neck. The text reminds us by bringing in Jiang Zisuan and his accusations which are... inaccurate regarding A-Ning’s death but not without weight, either. Wu Xie’s walked in the footsteps of Third Uncle: he’s done some shit. So it’s interesting to me, and sweet, and bittersweet to be honest, in this quest to prove San-shu was a good man, just how much work Old Wu Xie puts into keeping Xiao-Bai, this mirror of his younger self, safe.

Also she’s cute. Did I mention she’s cute? OMG I could just die.

Anyway, back to the show... Run from the clams, my good man! Run!!

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

Keep Going

Chapter 1 {Next Chapter >>}

Pairing: Jake x Danny

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. (spoilers) getting caught masturbating, mutual masturbation

{Author Commentary: This is my imagining of a budding interest between Jake & Danny. They are both over 18 in all nsfw scenes, but still young and horny and figuring their shit out. I want to thank Zara for inspiring me to write and encouraging me to actually post this. Let the silly, saucy shenanigans ensue~}

At first, it had seemed innocent; tolerating rather than intrigued. Danny and Sam had entered the garage as Jake was practicing a solo he'd been working on. Jake looked up as the chord progression was unceremoniously interrupted by the garage door creaking open "mom said I could have the space to practice till 6" "it is 6, dipshit" Sam retorted, strolling in. Danny had leaned on the doorframe, respecting the space. "Keep going though, finish that riff, it sounded cool." Jake smiled at him in earnest before returning to his shredding, flicking his hair dramatically with the final note. Sam rolled his eyes "Real cool. Now move, Danny's gonna fix my bike" he plopped down on the old faded couch that faced the cleared half of their garage. While the other half housed the car and various landscaping supplies, this half functioned as a makeshift spot for hanging out, working on projects, and, increasingly recently, band practice.

"I'm gonna tell you how to fix your bike, I'm not doing it for you, lazy ass" Danny laughed at Sam, walking over to shove his feet off the couch and take the spot next to him. 

—

Danny had volunteered to sub in for their regular drummer on a few occasions and began regularly attending their more casual jam sessions before being formally invited to the band. They'd collectively decided he was a better fit. He'd always been 'around', having been Sam's best friend since before middle school. But they'd started hanging out 'as a band' more the past few years, and he was now nearly as close friends with Jake and Josh as he was with their little brother.

—

Getting their first 'real' tour bus had been a big step for all of them and a big adjustment. Though they were all practically living together before the tour, the four of them confined to a bus was another story. Danny's talents for mediation and de-escalation had presented themselves early into their bandmate relationship. He was good at making them all laugh, even when Jake and Josh were literally at each other's throats. And, despite being quieter than the rest of them in conversation, he always made sure everyone else got their chance to be heard.

They were doing one of the many interviews for local radio shows during their tour stops. Jake had come to a pause in a long-winded answer when Josh classically started reaching for the mic, trying to insert his two cents. Danny playfully batted his hand down. "Keep going, it may be the last chance, once Josh gets the mic" they'd all laughed, Jake and Josh sharing a knowing look. Jake had shot Danny a grateful glance and a nod and a nod before resuming his answer.

—

They'd all seemingly found their cohabitation-flow living together in their close quarters of the tour bus. Stacked beds and a shared bathroom weren't too unfamiliar. Jake had been reading in his top bunk when a vague black mass in his peripheral caught his attention. He couldn't help but laugh, causing Danny to turn, from straightening his bed after a nap. "Have you seen the back of your head lately?" "The back of my- ?" Danny reached over his own shoulder, eyebrows raised in confusion. His hand rested on the matted fluff of hair, sticking up from the back of his head. Bedhead, from a seemingly eventful nap. Moments after the recognition dawned on his face he doubled over laughing, Jake joining him, his book abandoned on his pillow. "Damn. How am I even gonna start with this, I can't see it!" Danny had begun awkwardly attempting to pat down the back of his hair, making them both chuckle again. "Here- come here, turn around" Jake motioned to him, leaning out slightly over the edge of his bunk. Danny stepped over, turning so Jake could start nimbly picking through the knots causing the protrusion. A particularly tough one caused Danny's head to jerk back. "Shit, sorry" Jake stalled, but Danny just chuckled "Keep going. It's better than me ripping through it with a hairbrush." "Speaking of, it's probably time for one of those" Jake resumed, finishing off the rest of the identifiable tangles, combing the hair down experimentally with his fingers. "That, I can do. Thanks, man" Danny ran his hand over the spot as he stepped over to his storage drawer, looking for his hairbrush. "What had you squirming around that much anyway? I've never seen it that bad", Jake jested, reaching for his book again. In lieu of an answer, Danny just turned to him, having found his brush, and gave him a pointed smirk, his eyebrows quirking before walking off to the bathroom. ‘Oh.’ Jake understood immediately; finding a convenient time to get off on a constantly full bus was near impossible, and he'd been feeling the frustration himself lately. Still, the thought of Danny's resulting dirty dream brought a slight warmth to his face. Thankfully Danny was too busy in the bathroom mirror to see its resulting tinge on the peaks of his cheeks.

 —

After a particularly enthusiastic show in Boston, the boys had gathered to decompress and share a drink in the shared back-stage lounge. They rarely used individual dressing rooms, even when they were provided. It just wasn't their style, there was too much to talk about, before and after the show. But Jake couldn't talk right now. After initial sentiments were exchanged and beers were opened, he excused himself to the bathroom as the rest of them settled in. He found himself walking down an adjacent hallway till he saw a designated artist dressing room. It was modest, being a small local venue. But it fit the need, and before he even considered looking for a bathroom he was leaned against the edge of the vanity fumbling un-gracefully with his belt, button, and zipper. Jake's jacket had been tossed backstage between songs, and he was now even more grateful to have one less article of clothing to deal with. Finally pulling his strained cock from his briefs, he hissed between clenched teeth as he desperately began stroking himself, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter, his head dropping back in a strained sigh. It wasn't gonna be his best work, but after being on edge for weeks he wouldn't need it to be. “Fuck.” The energy that night had really been palpable, they'd all found themselves flushed and shiny only a few songs into the set. During Danny's drum solo Jake had first realized how all the adrenaline had gotten to him. Danny had been pounding away at a seemingly infinite rhythm as they all took a moment. Brushing sweat-slicked hair from his temples Jake had stared in wonder. Danny never needed that break, he was relentless on stage, commanding the attention of the whole room as the rhythm of his drums filled everyone's chest. Jake's hand was increasing its pace subconsciously till the sweet music in his mind was cut off by the dragging of the heavy door against the matted old carpet as it was opened.

Danny was standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed pointedly on Jake's now still hand. His mouth opened slightly, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he stood there, seemingly transfixed. His hand not being used to open the door had been wiping the sweat that accumulated on his chest during the show down toward the small trail of dark hairs that continued below his belt. The door had swung shut behind him but he remained by the doorway. The room was already small, almost more of a glorified storage closet. Danny's eyes flicked up to his briefly, in a moment that felt like it lasted hours. "...Keep going." It wasn’t a command, more like a plea. His voice was low but slightly hushed, breathless. He made no move to step towards Jake, which Jake was grateful for. He wasn't sure how to react in his current state. All the blood left in his brain was thrumming with frustration, denied pleasure, and now an extra shot of adrenaline at the shock of being caught in his current state. Still, Jake was too far gone to stay still any longer. His hand slowly resumed its interrupted stroke, heeding his friend's words. A groan grew deep in his chest as he reached his head, thumb trailing over the hypersensitive flesh. His eyes involuntarily fluttered closed but not before seeing Danny's hand dipping past his belt and into his own jeans. 

Jake had returned to his desperate pace, panting filling the small space, echoed out of sync by Danny who had seemingly accepted Jake's nonverbal agreement to ...whatever this was. Danny had undone his pants and was stroking himself, almost at the same pace as Jake. As the sound of a repressed whine left his friend, Jake's eyes threatened to flutter open, his brow furrowing further instead. He wasn't sure where he'd even look. 'What was riskier, looking at Danny's hand, currently working over himself?’ -not for the first time, admittedly- Jake wondered if he was proportional, Danny being what he and Josh jokingly called 'obnoxiously tall'- but the other option was looking Danny in the eyes. Remembering the odd feeling that had shot through him when they'd first made eye contact, Jake knew that definitely felt like more of a risk. Still, the feeling of Danny’s eyes on him was strangely empowering. Jake tossed his head back, clearing his face of any obscuring hair. His, no doubt flushed, chest rose and fell desperately as he felt his overdue orgasm start to arrive. “huhh- fuck.” he came in his hand, voice hitching in his throat. Biting down on his lower lip, he stroked himself through it, finally sighing in true relief. Feeling looser than he had in a while, he lazily opened his eyes, knowing Danny hadn’t come yet. He was significantly less composed than the last time Jake had looked at him. His teeth were sunk intensely into one of his knuckles, breathing heavily out of his nose in an attempt to stifle his sounds. Jake reached behind himself for the box of tissues on the vanity, cleaning off his hand without breaking his stare. He stood up, leaning off the counter, causing Danny’s eyes to flash to his, they were widened and infinitely dark, his irises almost completely black. His sharp cheeks and the strong bridge of his nose had been painted pink with a flush. his free hand had now dropped, gripping where his shoulder met his neck. His mouth opened slightly like he was about to warn Jake of something. But, before anything coherent could come out his eyes screwed shut, face tucking into his bent arm to muffle a final grunt. Jake's eyes followed the tensing of his slicked stomach muscles and strained vascular forearm just in time to watch his friend come undone, arching off the door frame ever so subtly. Danny was panting slightly when he looked up again. 

As his breathing slowed, he motioned to the tissue box in Jake's hand, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Can I get a few…” “huh? Oh, yeah” Jake mentally pulled himself from his daze of swirling thoughts to pull a few tissues from the box and hand them to him. “That was, …uhm…” Jake motioned vaguely with a limp arm, now even more tired, post-show arm. He was not sure where he was going with that sentence, it just felt like he had to say something. “...fun?” Danny offered, lightly. He was smiling down at Jake, who was now standing in front of him. “Yeah… uh, do we… have to-” “not if you don’t want to.”, Danny affirmed. Despite neither of them quite knowing which of the thoughts buzzing through the air Jake was referring to, it seemed to work. Jake nodded, visibly more relaxed as he did up his pants, waiting as Danny did the same. He paused at the door, 'would it make him feel bad if I asked to stagger our leaving?' Danny's thoughts seemed to be in the same realm as he spoke up, pulling his damp hair up into a ponytail. "I told them I wanted to bum a smoke from you, cause I'm out. I don't think they'd think anything of it if you just joined me for a smoke break." "Yeah, -that's perfect", Jake paused to stretch his arms, letting out a relieved groan "and I could really use one right now." Danny followed him down the hall, his smirk audible in his voice "Yeah, I bet."

{Woo! First chapter of my first posted GVF fic. Chapter 2 is in the works. Till then, please please let me know what you think!}

{Next Chapter >>}

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Can I ask what it would be like for Solsu having to take care of drunk romanced companions? Bonus points if they're told about their shenanigans afterword.

Cait:

(Angry drunk)

•It's best that you don't drink in polite company with her. She's already a feisty individual with a burning passion for inflicting pain, you make her drunk and it's only a matter of time before she incites some horrible fight.

•Sounds funny, but it's really not. Reign her back. Please.

Curie:

.......you aren't really gonna let her drink, right? I highly advise you don't....

Danse:

(Horny drunk 👀)

•Danse hardly ever partakes in more than a couple glasses with company and this is exactly why.

•At first it all starts off nice and smooth, just Danse beginning to gradually relax- which is "outstanding" considering his usual rigid disposition. However once that fine line of too many drinks have been crossed, all hell breaks loose.

•It'll start with comments on your appearance, simple incessant "you look beautiful"s spoken with dazed eyes...then it escalates to Danse pulling you into his lap where you're met with his obvious "intentions" prodding you in the ass, all while being held in a bear hug from a blushing, smiling Paladin who happens to look like a kicked puppy when you make him calm down with a drink of water. Don't worry, he might mope but he'll quit if you tell him to.

•Perks back up when you tell him it's time to go to bed...only to mope even more when he realizes that no, it isn't for sexy times. No worries, he'll be happy so long as you let him hold you..

•Is absolutely ashamed and horrified of his behavior when he wakes up and you tell him what went down. Probably will hide his face in his pillows and try to disappear. Swears he won’t drink again and make a fool of himself like that….will totally drink some more.

•Just be lucky he wasn’t feeling melancholic like a post BB Danse would.

Deacon:

(Stupid drunk..)

•Ever seen that one video of that guy busting through drywall like Kool-Aid Man? That's Deacon's level of maturity when properly intoxicated.

•No worries, Desdemona is going to bitch at him from the time he does something too stupid until he isn't even drunk anymore. Frankly, he deserves it too- he's destructive, reckless, and...well..hilarious, but that doesn't mean it's redeemable!

•He seems to perfectly remember all his antics, some he even reflects upon with a proud grin..until his hangover ends up making him wince in pain. Just...take care of him, there isn't any point in trying to scold him. Des has that covered anyways.

Gage:

(Emotional drunk)

•A drunk gage was both extremely rare because of his genuine hate for alcohol and also very shocking. Sure, one may assume that someone so rugged and tough like a raider- especially Gage- would have no issue handling his liquor....oh how wrong you could be...

•You weren't entirely sure what happened, much less where he got the idea, but somehow Gage got the absurd notion that you decided he wasn't good enough for you and you were going to just leave him behind. He'd keep it in for a while, slowly growing more quiet as he took practical gulps of his drink. That doesn't last.

•Eventually he starts to cry, silent tears pouring from his good eye. Whenever you actually notice, it's too late. Just pray no one else is around when this next part happens.

•All it takes is you coming to his side, placing a comforting hand on his back and he crumbles. He'll grab you and push his face into your chest and start sobbing, wailing incoherently as he begs you to not leave him.

•It might seem humorous, but it raised several questions.

•The morning after his outburst, you wake up extra early to present him with a half way decent breakfast in bed- extra grease on the food for good measure. Once he seems to be more coherent, you make sure to talk to him about his apparent fear of you not loving him...which brings him close to tears once again whenever you finally convince him that you do in fact love him and won't ever leave his side so long as he loves you back.

Hancock:

(Stealthy drunk)

•Unfortunately, the mayor of Goodneighbor doesn't really have any fun antics..well at least any that would point to him being intoxicated. Sorry.

Macready:

(Over indulging drunk)

•Mac is arguably the best one to get shit faced with, especially if you like drugs and food. Oh yeah, something about eating while intoxicated is irresistible to him. Think of it like munchies, but in Mac's case, five times as bad.

• After a couple drinks, Mac nonchalantly will reach into his pocket- gesturing for you to come close- before putting a cigarette in your mouth and lighting up- using your's to light his own. If you don't set a stopping point, the two of you will wake up down two packs, several empty containers of jet, and crumbs everywhere.

•When faced with the consequences of his gluttony, Mac will just sit there and whine as his stomach does cartwheels. That's punishment enough...

Maxson:

(Mr. Vomits-a-lot drunk)

•It takes a whole hell of a lot for Maxson to get shitfaced thanks to his rather strict habitual drinking. After all, it would be a strange day if you didn't see him knock a bottle of whisky out before finally turning in..which was kind of sad come to think of it..

•Nonetheless, he does occasionally push his limits when he's especially stressed and it's never pleasant when he does.

•It was sort of funny, in retrospect. One minute you and him were sitting on the flight deck together, casually talking whilst finishing off a bottle of shitty vodka (unknowing that he had already burned through countless bottles before meeting you) when suddenly Arthur started to look pale. It just kept getting worse until eventually he was frantically motioning for you to follow him as he ran to the railings, sticking his head over before throwing up whatever was on his stomach..sending it to a several hundred foot drop below.

•It's a good thing you held him, otherwise the brotherhood might've been short an elder and you short a partner.

•When confronted with his..let's say "overindulgence", he'll sort of look away and try to change the subject. It's probably best if you try to hide liquor for a while. 

Nick:

(Doesn't drink....)

Old Longfellow:

With his age and experience? He's the same as Hancock.

Piper:

(Daredevil drunk)

•Hope you're sober, because if you aren't- there's a good chance you'll be spending the night in Diamond City Jail.

•Piper is reckless on a good day, putting alcohol with that in mass quantities and she's wild. Just hope you have strong will, because she sure as shit isn't going to back down easy.

•It's kind of funny, but her go to is to do crazy shit. Jump off the roof? Hold her cup. Want to vandalize the great green wall? Fuck yeah. Nothing beats the time she wasn't careful and threw a lit cigarette down Ann Codman's cleavage during a heated argument with her.

•She has no regrets either, so don't expect her to be remorseful in the morning whenever you tell her what she did. If anything, she'll just laugh next time she sees Ann.

Preston:

(Over thinking drunk)

•If it wasn't lowkey annoying, you'd probably think Preston's drunken neuroticism was hilarious. Not to be gotten wrong, but even sober, your love could be extremely insistent..mix his anxious attitude with liquor and you end up with a terrible night.

•You knew better than to let him have more than a couple beers, seeing as his tolerance wasn't exactly the best, and yet here you were. Preston pensively sitting at the bar beside you, rich eyes narrowed and focused on the liquid in his glass- his hands resting against his head.

•"I know you're dying to ask...." "Okay babe, since you brought it up...do you think putting electrical wire around our people's settlements would be a bad idea? It might closely resemble a prison but it's for their own good. Wait- shit, what about the kids? Oh god..."

•He may just sheepishly rub the back of his head and apologize in the morning..but he'll be quick to revisit some of the key points and ideas with you if you so much as give him a chance.

X6-88:

(Ridiculous drunk)

•It was only one time..thankfully.

•You, and your whole group of friends had to convince him to try it out- but once he started, he couldn't stop.

•This asshole would throw down drinks faster than Hancock..which was terrible considering his painfully low tolerance to alcohol.

•One thing goes to another and next thing you know, "The Wanderer" is playing in the background, X is singing and dancing like an idiot, and everyone is gathered around- terrified at what they were seeing. It's sort of like seeing a deathclaw do ballet- so, totally understandable.

•He dares you to bring it up later, dares you.

[cupidcreates]

hiii cupid! question for you: if you had to give the chaos plus chat crew popular au jobs, who would go where? like character A in a coffee shop, B in a tattoo parlour, etc. their dynamic is one of my faves that you’ve created, hope your muse hits to write for them again one day 💜

Great Question! I haven't thought much about them recently but I might do something small for this group in future. They are very cute <3

For the jobs though:

Reader - Generic Office Job

I think I would like to keep the reader’s job pretty generic for the most part. Even if you’ve not worked an office job there’s a fuckton of shows that depict office jobs in various degrees of realism so you would at least of some reference to what they’re like.

Plus the office is a great place for shenanigans I think so if nothing else it’s a good place for some kind of plot point or funny happenstance.

Izuku - Barista

Deku’s got such a nice smile and a friendly demeanor he’d be perfect for a barista job. I could see him being knowledgeable about coffee but not a snob so he’ll draw in all sorts of customers.

I also think he’d be good a de-escalation, a necessary skill for a job that attracts so many confrontational personalities. Plus he’d be adorable in the little barista apron I think.

Todoroki - Library/Bookstore

Feel like Todoroki would prefer the quiet environment of a bookstore or library. It’s a job he can do with minimal issue most days and I think he’d covet something like that. He’s got such a hectic life it’d be nice for him to go somewhere to just chill for a few hours, so if he can do that AND make money it’s a win-win.

Not only this but I think Todoroki would enjoy people-watching. This is a reasonably safe environment so if he was caught staring at any point he could just play it off as wanting to help the customer. Todoroki gives me very “I love reading” vibes as well. Discount books!

Bakugou - Bartender

Like a Barista but cooler. I could definitely see Bakugou being a no-nonsense bartender who does his job and does it fucking well. No one would really mind his attitude because they know he’ll fix them up something that’ll get them wasted before they’re even halfway through it.

This also blends pretty well with the popular trope of making Bakugou a chef or cook of some sort. We got one episode of him cutting food and some throwaway lines about proper vegetable preparation and we all latched onto the idea that he’d be great in the kitchen lol. I like the image of a heavily tattooed, heavily scarred Bartender Bakugou.

Shinsou - Record Shop

One of them real old and dusty ones. The ones that you’re sure are one bad week away from going under but never seem to disappear. Nestled in a brick building between two large chains it’s a real blink and you’ll miss it situation.

Shinsou would love working there because of the low foot traffic and early closing hours lol. But I could also see him having a passion for old and outdated video/music mediums. A sort of fascination with tech that’s been left behind and a love for musical history.

Kirishima - Flower Shop

Nothing like a big ass himbo working at a cutesy flower shop. I think Kiri would look great surrounded by pastel decorations and bright flora. Could liken his smile to the sun that gives the plants life because we all know he’s the goodest of good boys.

Kirishima would love working at a flowershop too I think, it’s manly to be responsible for the life of another being! He also doesn’t mind the discounts he gets on flowers. They help his apartment smell nice and floral instead of stinking like sweat and workout equipment.

[vvienne]

SANGCHENG FIC RECS

flight of a one-winged dove by bloodletter

Talking at someone is only fun for so long. That's all being a sect leader is: talking and talking to people bound by courtesy to listen to you. It's so fucking dull. A relief, then, to face one’s equal, and no less an old friend who is inclined to interrupt you whenever you ramble. He likes it. It’s one of Jiang Cheng’s best qualities.

In the years after Guanyin Temple, Nie Huaisang attends to unfinished business.

whipped by reindeercolin

Jiang Cheng blinks. “Dammit, they do think you’re dating one of us! I hate it when Wei Wuxian is right.” “Excuse me?” Nie Huaisang gives him an incredulous look. “First of all, they think I’m dating you, and if anything, they’re getting more aggressive!”

(or, the one in which Jiang Cheng has too many relatives, not enough patience, goes through a brother-divorce and finds out he has a boyfriend - in that order, more or less.)

Ponder the Manner of Things by Pip (Moirail)

It's not that Jiang Cheng can't do a quadruple flip followed by a triple toeloop. It's that his mother seems to think that's still not good enough.

Jiang Cheng is grateful that Huaisang doesn’t have the same kind of family life that he does, all - messy with expectations and cravings for closeness and nothing but vague filial piety where love is meant to be.

a matter of time and organ donation by nev_longbottom

This is it. The call he’s been waiting for. His brother had ‘an accident’ or ‘died in his sleep’ or some other lie to cover up the murder.

“Please, Mingjue is missing. He got into one of his moods and he was gone when I came back from grocery shopping. He’s not answering his phone. I don’t know if he left or was kidnapped or if something else happened. Huaisang, please, if you’ve heard anything,” Meng Yao begs.

Nie Huaisang hunts his brother's killer.

no tip necessary by tattletold

With all the nervousness of a virgin in a whorehouse, Jiang Cheng closes the door behind himself and enters, sitting on the low seat across from the escort. The pretty young man keeps his face hidden behind the delicate fan, and Jiang Cheng thinks for a moment that he recognizes the design painted onto it now that he’s closer.

It’s only when he lowers the fan and opens his eyes, wide, does Jiang Cheng paralyze with realization.

They speak at the same time in equally horrified tones.

“Jiang Cheng?”

“Nie Huaisang?”

Your Place in the Family of Things by raisedbyhyenas

No matter what happens, no matter the circumstances, Wei Wuxian will always leave and Jiang Cheng will always get stuck trying to rebuild from whatever’s left.

*************

In which Jiang Cheng makes friends; gets a cat; begins to rebuild a relationship; and maybe, possibly, potentially, learns a little bit how to be happy.

sigh yourself to sleep by merthurlin

“Let me take care of you, A-Cheng.”

No one—no one has ever said that, not to Jiang Cheng. He wasn’t a very sickly child, true, but the few times he remembered being sick it was never—he had a-jie, and later on he had Wei Wuxian, for what it was worth, but he never—

halcyon days by serein

They're in a forest, it seems just the two of them.

"You have to be patient," Nie Huaisang says, "I once waited for three days to catch a sparrow."

"Three days?" Jiang Cheng replies, sceptical. He can't imagine Nie Huaisang having the attention span for that.

"It's not that hard," Nie Huaisang says, "if you know what they want, and find a way to get it for them."

[JC stumbles across an array and gets physically de-aged to be 16/17. NHS kindly offers his help to an old friend, but things... escalate.]

To Distraction by isozyme

It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.

-

Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.

Lights, Camera, Kiss by MissMagus

When Nie Huaisang gets paired with straight porn star Jiang Cheng for a five-part series, he’s sure it will be an utter disaster. Until the cameras start rolling and their chemistry alights like wildfire.

(Or, the five times Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng have sex for their job, and the first time they have sex outside of it.)

Only the Shallow by hamburglar

When Nie Huaisang gets bored and convinces Jiang Cheng to make out with him, he’s probably not expecting to still be dealing with the guy 16 years later.

OR the story where Jiang Cheng goes into: the Cloud Recesses, denial, some bushes, the private porn library at the Unclean Realm, and subspace.

Blind for Love by manamune

Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.

The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.

Descending by lightningwaltz

“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”

“To not be embarrassed during what?”

“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”

“Very good.”

“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.

dark water by Morgan (duckwhatduck)

There are words, somewhere, for this. Words that would put a shape to the thing that sits between them, would seal their understanding. There are words for sympathy, for friendship, for understanding, for that touch, for this feeling.

Jiang Cheng can feel them, somewhere, fluttering formless at the back of his throat, squirming under his ribcage, but he cannot grasp them. They swim beneath the surface, fish in muddy water - and like fish, they will dart away if he grabs for them incautiously, and leave him nothing but cold splashes and grit.

Or: Why talk about things when you could fuck about it instead?

never knew i was a dancer by isozyme

“What’s a stone butch and why aren’t they real?” Jiang Cheng asks, too buzzed to care too much about not being up on lesbian culture.

Huaisang pats Jiang Cheng on the no-man’s-land between her boobs and her shoulder. “You’re so useless, Jiang Cheng. A stone butch is a fictional hottie who doesn’t make you do any work at all, just wants to give head and fuck you stupid on her strap.”

“Fictional?” Jiang Cheng echoes, having - not a moment, per se, but sort of a problem where her thoughts are going too fast for her poor drunken brain to keep up with.

“Nobody actually wants to fuck a chick who’s too lazy to eat you out after,” Huaisang mumbles.

-

After leaving Wei Ying and Lan Zhan’s bachelorette party, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang decide to experiment with some outdated stereotypical lesbian sex roles.

lights out by rynleaf

“Nie-zongzhu makes the most sense,” Sect Leader Yao nods sagely, to murmurs of assent across the Jin Sect’s gold gilded banquet hall. Jin Ling, clad in opulent robes that look somewhat comical on a boy of sixteen, inclines his head as his scribe makes a notation, and the noise rises as sect leaders pat themselves and each other on the back for a decision well made.

Jiang Cheng groans and downs his cup of wine in one go.

-

In which the Sect Leaders elect a new Chief Cultivator.

shadow eternal by rynleaf

“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”

“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.

Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”

Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”

-

In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.

Four Days in Lanling by halotolerant

Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’

‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’

Lean for Love Forever by Pip (Moirail)

Having a crush on your roommate is really embarrassing, except that's apparently the opposite of a problem. Jiang Cheng can't deny that's pretty convenient.

Wei Ying holds it up, a series of straps and buckles and velcro and wow, really a lot of leather. It has absolutely no conceivable form beyond tangled.

Nie Huaisang opens the door at exactly the moment that Wei Ying holds the thing up to Jiang Cheng’s chest, as if he’s trying to imagine how exactly it would fit onto a person, and it falls into a tangled pile between them while they stare at Huaisang in mild mortification.

acquired momentum by mongrelmind

Had Madam Yu known that this is where her son would end up, she would have gouged his eyes out with her bracelet before he made the grave mistake of looking in the direction of Nie Huaisang.

-

in which Nie Huaisang has an art show, Jiang Cheng is begrudgingly topless*, and there are. Shenanigans.

*Nie Huaisang excluded.

[uncanny8ellen]

I'm fucking tired so Imma just put a piece of a wip here. Dunno if I'll ever finish. Mayhaps a sequel will show up if I survive. God I wish I could have more sleep. Or die.

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Character: Karl Heisenberg, Hunter(Oc)

TW: Violence, Blood, Mentions of murder, Graphic depictions of injury, Swearing, Chocking

Summary: After the 'execution' of runaway villagers by Miranda's order, the most dangerous Lord of the village returns to his domain. On his way, the fatigued, sleep deprived Lord of Iron finally explodes under stress, the peculiar approach to life from his newest ally finally getting under his skin.

Temperance

They walked in silence. The tension could be cut with knife, with how tightly it built up to the point of snapping. Karl, ever the hot-headed one, finally roared in rage.

"Spit it the fuck out already!"

Hunter stopped dead in his tracks. With his back facing the seething engineer, he looked back.

"What are you talking about."

His voice was deathly calm, more so than usual. It only fanned the flame in the other's eyes.

"I saw the way you look at me, asshole. If you got something to say, fucking say it to my face right now! I don't have patience to put up with your bitchy attitude!!"

Silence followed, minus the heavy panting from Heisenberg. He absolutely loathed that neutral look on his face. How he could keep a poker face despite the bullshit shenanigans erupting all over the village on daily basis. It only infuriated the mad engineer, because he couldn't wrap his head around the fact himself. He couldn't understand this bastard at all. The frustration brought anger. He needed answers now.

"I didn't approve of your method, but I understood the need for it, is all."

"Oh so you think you get to get all high and mighty huh?"

"I never said-"

"Shut the fuck up!!!"

To his credit, despite getting yelled at straight in the face in such terrifying tone, the gunner didn't even twitch. Karl's blazing eyes were near hateful, teeth bared, looking about ready to tear his throat out.

"Please calm down." he said, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Karl once again roared, but this time with mocking laughter.

"What, scared?"

Then, his eyes sharpened. Now with something dangerous dancing behind that gaze, the Lord slowly advanced.

"Afraid you'll meet the same fate as those retarded livestocks? Because you should be. You should be very much afraid of me."

Hunter's eyes slightly narrowed at the Lord's description of the villagers, but his tone stayed even.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh really?" The Lord sneered, his showman's voice now masking the thunderous anger.

"You're not? You just saw me making that moron's head go flying. You saw how I crushed them one by one, beating them to meaty pulps, like the little pests they are. I'm the kind of monster they warn about to their kids, lest the terrifying Lord Heisenberg drag their sorry asses to his dreadful factory."

"You're not a monster."

For a moment, the Lord's face mirrored the total blankness on the marksman's face. It would've seem hilarious, had it not been for the following fury which returned with vengeance.

"Are you fucking serious."

The fists in vice grip were shaking so much, and Hunter could see every metal objects in their vicinity slowly rising into the air.

"I could kill you, right here." he spat, venom dripping from his words.

"Mirander's order be damned. 'Not a monster'? Clearly, you are out of you depth, Hunter. You don't know what she made me into."

The gunner only looked in mute passivity.

"You don't know what I've done, what I'm capable of. Today was the very tip of an iceberg, one that is as colossal as that big bitch's ego."

Another beat of silence. Neither man looked away, unable to break this moment, the radiating animosity from one, and the seeping serenity from the other, colliding in the middle, threatening to overflow and sweep them away. Just one slip, and the dam between the two that has steadily been going up these past few weeks was going to burst.

It was finally shattered by hunter's quiet but firm, reply.

"You are not a monster."

Karl had to admit, despite the blinding red that quickly filled up his vision, he was impressed. Impressed that, even when decked across the face with a full swing, the fucker didn't even stumble. Though it definitely should have given him some sort of a whiplash, being struck with such inhuman strength. He could punch down trees with his bare hands, for fuck's sake. There was no way this guy was normal. That head shouldn't be attached to those shoulders.

'Oh well, better try harder', Karl thought carelessly, kicking him in the gut.

As soon as his back met the ground Karl was on top of him, pressing down on his throat with bruising grip.

"What about now? Is this 'monstery' enough for you?"

He grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed his head on the ground. And again.

"I was thinking maybe I could break you legs, but making you run for your life seems entertaining as well."

He leaned in and whispered into the huntsman's ear.

"Well? Which one would it be?"

He loosened the grip on the throat, expecting an answer. All he was met with was a quite,

"You are not a monster."

With an animalistic growl he lifted him by the neck, and hurled him across the field. Hunter crashed into one of the metal fences, the barbed wires slicing the flesh open. As he crumbled to the ground, the wires followed, sticking to his joints, tearing the fabric. He laid there like a ragdoll, and slowly sat up and watched as the metal Lord charged at him.

Once again the gloved hand seized the abused throat, pulling his face close to the snarling Heisenberg.

"You think you know so much?"

He tossed him to the ground, and grabbed one of the wrists that lay limply on the sides.

"I'll show you monster."

He yanked at the arm, enough to hear it pop, and at the same time, stomped down on the upper arm, feeling the bone give under his boot. With a sickening 'crack!', the now badly damaged arm dropped to the ground like a log. But hunter didn't so much as whimper. His jaw tensed a bit from such intense pain, but otherwise he kept quiet. All he did was look up at the unhinged-looking Lord.

"Changed your mind, darling?"

"You are nothing like her."

The engineer's eyes darkened.

"Of course not, I-"

"You are not a monster."

Before Karl could viciously lunge at him, he added, "So stop trying to be one."

That made the man pause. Heisenberg now loomed over him with an unreadable expression. Even with that spectacle shielding his eyes, Hunter could still hear the cogs clicking in that brilliant head of his.

"Why the fuck do you care."

"You didn't deserve what she did to you."

The mechanic roughly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up, slamming him against the metal fence once more.

"I don't need your goddamn pity-"

"I don't do pity."

Karl blinked. He didn't expect such sudden hostility from his opponent.

"You deserved none of what she did to you. That is a fact. She did unspeakable things to you, yes, but that doesn't make you a monster."

Before Karl could reply, Hunter beat him to it.

"Even after all those years, she couldn't take that away from you. You might not feel like it, but under all that trauma and torture, your humanity's still intact."

The grip never wavered, but the onslaught of violence finally seized, Heisenberg trying to process what he's just heard.

As silence stretched out, Hunter continued, voice subdued.

"Besides, my entire family heritage is tracking down monsters and eliminating them. We can spot them from anywhere. And....."

His eyes grew vacant. They looked far away, unseeing.

"I was born from one. No way I can't recognize my own kind."

The laughter that was about to form in Heisenberg's chest from the shooter's words fizzled out at the chilling way Hunter looked at him. Suddenly, he didn't know if this was the same person, no. Same creature that he had at his feet mere minutes ago. Those eyes...they looked foreign. So inhuman and wrong. They didn't seem alive, like glass eyes, but at the same time, they still had the same look of recognition only seen from beings that has high cognitive level of intelligence. Karl couldn't tear his eyes away, the abyssal black seemingly creeping ever closer, encircling him, trapping him into its depth. Something was watching him. He was watching it. It was death. It had to be. He could not breathe. He could not feel. He couldn't-

As if a switch was flipped, those eyes were back to normal. Karl let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The change was so quick, he couldn't trust his own mind to discern between reality and him just seeing things from sleep deprivation. Hunter closed his eyes.

What was that?

The sound of their breathing was deafening.

Karl distantly thought that maybe, he heard a storm approaching.

"Could you please let me go."

The Lord startled out of his stupor at the quiet request. He hesitantly let go of the clothing and backed off a bit. Hunter's mangled arm was entangled in a loose barbed wire, and he started to painstakingly peel himself away from the jagged, rusty fence.

"Here, let me..."

Karl used his power to tug away the wires and broken fences latching on to Hunter like metal teeth. Bad idea. They tore the skin further, and now he had a blood soaked Hunter in front of him, literally ripped in places. Again, the shooter didn't make a single sound. Karl bit his lip. Shit. He looked at the unnaturally bent arm which he brutally snapped without remorse. There was a...bone sticking out. His right arm was entirely drenched in red. Fuck.

Heisenberg's now uncertain gaze met the other's. Still so goddamn calm. Blood was covering half of his face, all of it trickling down from a nasty gash over his hairline. Bruising from the punch was already forming on the jaw, the black and purple stark on Hunter's neck. Karl briefly wondered if he did any lasting damage to the neck. God fucking damnit.

He went too far. The work, meetings, and that cunt calling him like a dog to do her bidding, when he should be working even more on that prototype he wanted to test out.

The way Hunter looked at him today. Something he couldn't understand. Somber, poignant, even. And...and..........so painfully understanding.

All of them wore down his barely existent patience.

At that moment, when their eyes met, he felt seen. As a person. Not a tool, not a servant, not Lord, not some fucking deity, and godforbid, not a monster.

When he smashed open those people and got covered in their blood, playing the role of a prized son, he felt hollow. He'd done the execution countless times. Setting an example was Miranda's bread and butter, and who better to assign the honor than his most favored creation? The women were mostly sent to Alcina, sure, but he was all about the show. And he hated every second playing into her bullshit cult crap. Repetition made it feel like a chore, rather than a repulsive act of unforgivable sin.

The elephant lady had her basement packed with maidens, and when Moreau felt like having a snack, rumors of missing fishermen spread like ripples, and the fishing was prohibited for a whole season.

Donna...didn't mean harm, most times. But her unstable psyche was still a threat. Combined with her hallucinogenic ability, it was only a matter of time before some villagers showed up insane, the unfortunate bunch who got a bit too close to the secluded beneviento mension.

And there was him. Lord Heisenberg. He knew he was the most feared. His volcanic temper didn't help in the matter, either. Not that he cared what those brainless idiots thought of him. The irony of the situation, was that he wasn't one for unnecessary killing. If anything, Miranda's regular 'cleansing' wiped out most of the population. Death was a norm under Black God's reign.

Still, he saw no point in the act. The graves were never scarce in this place. Fresh bodies literally just lying around. He could just take a walk through a forest, and once awhile, somewhat intact bodies of unlucky hikers were retrieved. They were just that abundant.

It wasn't that he had enough conscience to feel some sort of reluctance when it came to taking lives. After decades of practice, it was as easy as breathing. One swing, crash. Dead. Humans were fragile compared to him, all it took was a single hit.

It was nothing. It has been nothing.

So why, when he struck down that wailing boy, he felt something in him crack?

He couldn't fathom it. Wouldn't. He could keep it down, until there were none to think about. But Hunter made it so much worse with that look on his face.

So he snapped.

Which brought him to this mess.

'Great,' karl thought, grimacing at the amount of blood that kept flowing down. 'Damaging my own ally almost beyond repair. Great strategy. Surely he'll help me take down that bitch now, what a way to keep him on my side.'

"You don't have to look so regretful."

Karl's brow furrowed further. Damn him and his carefree approach to anything.

"You are literally bleeding out on my turf. Your arm-"

"Will heal. 'S fine."

Karl's frown deepened, now nearly forming valleys on the rugged landscape that was his face.

"I can see that ivory piece poking out. Look me in the eye and say it's 'fine'."

"That wasn't very nice of you, that's for sure."

The mechanic tried so hard not to get his hackles raised.

"You. Kept pushing. Your luck. Don't go complaining when you incessantly poked a damn grizzly and got a beating."

"I'm not one of the livestocks," Hunter countered right back, sarcasm evident in the very last word. "I'll speak my mind when I want. I don't serve nor worship you. You can't tell me what to say and what not to say."

"That could cost you your life, you know."

"And here I am, not dead. I'm not afraid of speaking the truth. The only time I purposefully hide things and lie," he squeezed his arm harder. He'll need to put it in a sling.

".....is when I intend to kill or harm the other. When we agreed to work together, I promised to be truthful. Don't expect anything less now."

Hunter started rummaging through his numerous pockets. With only one arm for use, it took a while until he found what he was looking for. He fished out a small metallic cylinder, fitting snugly into the palm of his hand.

He held it out to the puzzled Lord, who used his ferromagnetic power to make it fly straight into his grip. He raised his eyebrow, and looked at the battered man.

"You wanted info on BSAA. It's all there."

"I said that 2 days ago! You got it already?!" The metalbender spoke incredulously. He knew the guy was resourceful, and definitely know a lot more than he lets on, but this was just ridiculous.

"I have my ways. Now that my job for today is done, I'll get out of your hair."

Not even a step further, his way back home was blocked by the broad man.

"Where the hell do you think you are going."

"Back to my humble abode, my Lord."

"Oh so it's 'my Lord' again? I thought you do not serve me?"

"No. But I can play the part, Lord Heisenberg. You have a reputation to keep. Even if that title is worth some dirt on the street."

Heisenberg's face was immediately mere inches away from his.

"Watch it, du verdammter Mistkerl. (you goddamn bastard.)"

"Do you actually value what she gave you?"

"What?"

"Or is it the power? Does the 'Lord' title make you feel powerful?"

"Listen you-"

"No YOU listen."

That icy tone from before was back. Karl couldn't honestly believe this was the guy that didn't even wrinkle his nose after Moreau's violent upchucking.

"If I were to call you the 'Lord'," he creeped in even closer to the engineer's face, now their noses almost touching.

"It's not because some nutjob of a woman says you're one, or because you threaten to crucify me on the trees as a dart board."

That was a tempting image, but Karl pushed that thought aside for now.

"If I were to call you the Lord Karl Heisenberg, it must have been earned. For now I humor everyone, following their tradition."

Hunter's breath ghosted over his lips. Those dark eyes bottomless, seeing into the impossible and beyond.

"But they mean nothing to me. The only time I sincerely utter that title is when I'm speaking of you. Because so far, you're the only one who I'd dare say respect."

The metal Lord backed away slightly from shock. His frown melting away as confusion once again took its place.

"No one in this cesspool work as hard as you do. You work until you collapse. You resisted Miranda's mind game, managed to see through her lies. Bowed your head down to her feet, with teeth gritted. And now you smile when she calls you her son. You've been planning a revolution, built an entire army, for decades. Alone. That's damn fucking admirable."

The usually boisterous engineer was now utterly speechless. Granted, no one ever appreciated his effort to this level, the boot-licking from villagers obviously not counting.

But genuine compliment?

Respect for his hard work?

Karl didn't know what to do, except clearing his throat, very awkwardly, and uttering a somewhat feeble, 'thank you'.

The marksman nodded in reply, turning to look up at the sky. His bloody arm was still tightly held in his grasp, now only a few drops of red falling off.

"I've got to go."

"N-"

"You are a busy man. Surely you've got better things to do."

That's exactly what Karl would have said, if not for the excessive assault he commited on the man earlier.

"I can patch it up myself. I've survived worse."

Obviously Karl was having none of it. Just as he was about to just drag the idiot to the garage, Hunter spoke up again.

"Glad you got that out of your system. You looked like you needed it."

.......Did. Was that-

Right on cue, the church bell signaling the upcoming meeting echoed in the distance.

With a growl, Karl glared at the tall building, thinking of all the ways he'll blow it up with Miranda trapped in it.

When he looked back, he found himself staring at an empty space. The blood stained ground and crooked fence were the only indications that there was someone there at all.

The metal Lord groaned in bone-deep fatigue and frustration. How the fuck does he keep doing that.

He wondered if the fucker provoked him on purpose. So he can 'get it out of his system.' His gaze moved to a metal cylinder sitting in his hand.

His mouth made a thin line. He nearly killed the guy over nothing.

'You're not a monster'

That arm will take a looong time to heal. Must've hurt like a son of a bitch, too. And what does the guy do? Give him even more than what he requested. In 2 days. Says he respects him. Praises him for his life's work.

Man he felt like shit.

Guilt knived him from inside in steady streaks. The accusing edges dug into his heart, with the cry of that village boy still ringing in his ears.

'Not a monster'

Yeah. Right.

He once again leered at the accursed church. He had a meeting to attend.

The Iron Lord took off the shades, and quickly wiped at his bloodshot eyes. As he put the glasses back on, he pocketed the little metal container safely. He'll check up on Hunter later. If he can find him, that is.

With heavy sigh, Heisenberg sauntered away.

~~~

I wrote this in 3 hours. Can you tell how unrefined it is? No beta we die like Ethan Winter's withered hands.

[insanityclause]

Loki sees the return of the titular fan-favorite MCU character, and it's a reminder as to just how damn charming Tom Hiddleston can be. Hiddleston may be best known as Thor’s contemporaneous younger brother, but let's talk about how his full range as an actor was best displayed in the underappreciated 2016 miniseries, The Night Manager. The six-part John le Carre adaptation from writer David Farr and director Susanne Bier cast Hiddleston as Jonathan Pine, a veteran working as the late-night host of a luxury resort in Egypt who gets recruited into ab undercover operation by British Intelligence. The idea of Hiddleston playing an everyman felt like a novelty at the time, but over the series' six hours he delivered his most emotionally grounded and understated performance to date.

John le Carre adaptations are often complex, incorporating hyper-realistic political intrigue with frequent betrayals and double-crosses, and many of the best have entered their interconnected storylines through the perspective of a common man. Hiddleston excels at showing how overwhelmed Pine becomes with the dangerous world he falls into. Because of his job as a night manager, the character is expected to bring a certain charisma energy to all his interactions. Hiddleston brilliantly shows the cracks in that performative magnetism during his first encounter with the renowned arms dealer Richard Roper (Hugh Laurie), who stuns Pine by bringing his villainous gang to the Cairo hotel.

Pine is able to gain Roper’s trust, as his experience in the Iraq War prepared him for life or death scenarios. Pine’s expertise at de-escalating a dangerous situation is previewed within the second episode, in which he saves Roper’s young son Daniel (Noah Jupe) during a business dinner. His wartime history isn’t Pine’s only characteristic, but it’s an integral part of the role that he brings nuance to without overtly expository passages. In fact, it’s his first-hand experience seeing the devastation of chemical weapons in Iraq that gives Pine the motivation to first engage in the scheme to take down Roper. It's also what gives Hiddleston such a layered role. It’s interesting to see Pine incorporate his experience as a soldier within the crafted backstory he must present to Roper; he’s certainly no stranger to violence, but the persona he must adopt requires Pine to pretend to have a criminal background, something that’s far removed from his ordinary professionalism. If Loki’s performative quality leaned into theatricality, Hiddleston has to portray a much different type of deception here. Watching Pine’s illusion crack as Roper's suspicions grow provides the central tension of the series.

The Night Manager is also a more action-centric role than Hiddleston had done before; Loki often utilized minions and amusing shenanigans to avoid actual fights, but here Hiddleston shows an impressive physicality that is dynamic within the action sequences. It’s not a surprise thatThe Night Manager landed Hiddleston's name as a potential candidate to play James Bond, as his introductory scene within the hectic gunfire of the Egyptian Revolution bears a resemblance to Daniel Craig’s iconic crane fight in Casino Royale.

But It’s not just the relentless action that inspired Hiddelston’s proposed candidacy for 007. The Night Manager is also a sleek romance. Pine and Roper’s girlfriend Jed (Elizabeth Debicki) begin to fall for each other during his prolonged operation, and Pine must show his affection for her while making sure he doesn’t reveal any critical information that could endanger the mission. Hiddleston certainly proved that he can bring pathos to a tender romance in 2013's Only Lovers Left Alive, but here he’s able to blend intimacy within the web of le Carre’s interconnected narrative.

It’s also interesting to see Hiddleston play opposite Laurie, whose villainous turn as Roper is everything you would want from a spy series antagonist. Hiddleston is used to being the scene-stealer (Loki never fails to get the last word in), but he has to show some restraint here when Roper unleashes his brutality. Roper’s exhaustive cruelty is perhaps the only aspect of The Night Manager that risks breaking the line of believability, and in a subversion of his normal roles, Hiddleston is the one reigning things back in.

It's a wonderfully understated role that's only more fascinating next to the rest of Hiddleston's filmography. Although the MCU has certainly improved on its villains recently, Loki was really the only compelling antagonist of the first two phases. Not only was Loki the rare bad guy whose motivation and backstory were just as compelling as his archnemesis (and perhaps even more so), Hiddleston brought a signature personality to the role that was sorely lacking among the bland CGI manifestations. Ten years after the first Thor film, Loki has become one of the most fleshed-out characters in the entire franchise; when it was first indicated that supporting characters would begin receiving spinoffs, a Loki series was an automatic suggestion. Hiddleston has leveraged his Marvel celebrity well, choosing to spotlight more experimental genre films from maverick auteurs in his time between MCU installments, including Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak, Ben Wheatley’s High Rise, and Joanna Hogg’s Exhibition.

That’s a pretty diverse selection of genres and filmmakers, but for the most part, Hiddleston's performances have leaned into eccentricity and villainous charisma. A few of Hiddleston's attempts at shedding his inherent idiosyncrasies in favor of more streamlined leading roles have landed with a thud. The 2015 Hank Williams biopic I Saw The Light was met with a tepid response and immediately forgotten within the awards season cycle, and he was unfortunately saddled with an unbelievably bland role in the Monsterverse installment Kong: Skull Island that was overshadowed by more entertaining co-stars like John C. Reilly and Samuel L. Jackson.

The Night Manager demonstrated Hiddleston is more than capable of a well-rounded lead performance, both understated and bold in equal measure. Anyone who caught the le Carre adaptation already knew Hiddleston has what it takes to lead a series; not all Marvel side-characters can carry six hours of storytelling, but Hiddleston has already proven himself up to the task once. It’s unlikely that Loki will be the last time Hiddleston appears in the Marvel franchise, but I hope it launches him into something in the same vein as The Night Manager. (Here's to hoping his upcoming role in the Apple TV+ drama The Essex Serpent has the same depth.) Hiddleston is clearly a great actor who brings unique qualities to his parts, but The Night Manager is the only one that allowed him to show all of them at the same time.

[route22ny]

The split-screen reality of the Trump era became all too real for Stephen Richer recently, and in a very literal way. On May 15, the Arizona election official — a Republican — was looking at two computer screens. On one was former President Trump’s claim that a key election database had been deleted, an “unbelievable election crime.” On the other screen was that very database, quite intact.

“Wow,” Richer tweeted. “This is unhinged. I’m literally looking at our voter registration database on my other screen. Right now.”

A couple of days later, he made his dismay even more explicit.

“What can we do here?” he asked in an interview with CNN. “This is tantamount to saying that the pencil sitting on my desk in front of me doesn’t exist.”

When Richer unseated a Democratic incumbent to become Maricopa County’s recorder in November, he thought he had won the most boring job in politics: maintaining the county’s voter files. But he had not reckoned on Trump, #StopTheSteal, and the most massive, audacious and successful propaganda campaign in modern American history — a campaign that has adapted Russian-style disinformation to U.S. politics with alarming success.

Fortunately, Richer and his local Republican colleagues have refused to be victimized. Instead, they have shown how to fight back.

Information warfare takes many forms, but it has an overarching goal: to divide, demoralize and disorient a political foe by manipulating the social and media environments. As Yuri Bezmenov, a Soviet intelligence defector, explained in a chilling 1983 interview, “What it basically means is to change the perception of reality of every American to such an extent that despite the abundance of information, no one is able to come to sensible conclusions in the interests of defending themselves, their family, their community and their country.”

One potent weapon of mass distraction is the “fire hose of falsehood,” a torrent of lies that aims not so much to persuade as to confuse and disorient. After Russian intelligence services got caught poisoning a defector and his daughter in the U.K. in 2018, the Russian government responded with a blizzard of mutually contradictory lies: Britain did it, Ukraine did it, a jealous lover did it, it was a suicide attempt and so on.

Another standard technique: conspiracy bootstrapping. First you spread a rumor. Then you demand an investigation. Failure to investigate just confirms the conspiracy, but so does an investigation with a negative finding. It’s a trap: either ignoring or debunking the conspiracy theory propagates it.

Those techniques are not new. Intelligence services and propaganda experts understand them well, and master propagandists like Josef Goebbels and Vladimir Putin have used them to powerful effect. What no one imagined was that they could be deployed by an American president and his party — and not against a foreign antagonist, but against the American public.

Pundits often say that, whatever his authoritarian tendencies, Trump is too inept and inattentive to have done much lasting damage to democracy. They are wrong: In the realm of information warfare, Trump is a genius-level innovator. It was he who figured out how to adapt Russia-style disinformation to the U.S. political environment, no mean accomplishment.

His use of the fire hose of falsehood was masterly. In his 2016 campaign, according to PolitiFact, 70% of his checkable claims were false or mostly false, a flood of untruths whose like had never been seen in a presidential campaign. He began his presidency by lying about the weather at his inauguration and also lying about the size of the crowd. By the time his presidency was over, Washington Post fact-checkers had clocked him at more than 30,000 confirmed falsehoods, with nearly half coming in his final year.

Similarly, he was a master of conspiracy bootstrapping. He retailed conspiracy theories and falsehoods on the grounds that a lot of people were saying them, although of course he was the sayer-in-chief. Truth and common decency need not apply; when a prominent cable news host criticized him, Trump peddled an absurd (and deeply cruel) lie that the host was suspected of murder.

The black arts of disinformation had the intended effect, at least from Trump’s point of view. They exacerbated the country’s divisions, commandeered the country’s attention, dominated his opponents, disoriented the media and helped him establish a cult of personality among followers who trusted no one else.

Still, he saved the worst for last. His pièce de résistance was the propaganda attack on the 2020 election. Beginning months before the election, he launched a drumbeat of unfounded attacks on mail-in voting. Pundits were puzzled. Many Republicans vote by mail, and the pandemic was especially dangerous to older voters who lean toward Trump; why discourage them from voting safely and conveniently?

But Trump was aiming for the post-election. He saw he was in electoral trouble. With the anti-mail campaign, he was organizing, priming, and testing an unprecedented propaganda network, ready for use if he lost.

And then came #StopTheSteal itself, a disinformation campaign whose likes the country had never witnessed. It mobilized the White House, Republican politicians, social media, conservative cable news and talk radio, frivolous litigation, and every other available channel to broadcast the message that the election was rigged. The Big Lie, as it was aptly named, failed to keep Trump in office, but it succeeded at its secondary goal: turning the Republican Party itself into a propaganda organ.

In April, only a fourth of Republicans believed Joe Biden was legitimately elected, and GOP politicians who insisted on truth were persona non grata.

With that as background, we can see more clearly what is going on right now in Maricopa County, Arizona’s largest. In 2020, Biden carried Maricopa by more than 45,000 votes, and with it the state. The result was certified by the Republican governor, double-checked twice by the county’s election officials, and then confirmed by two independent audits.

But in classic bootstrapping fashion, Trump and state Republican leaders seized on conspiracy theories, such as that phony ballots had been smuggled in from Asia, to launch an unnecessary recount conducted by an unqualified company whose boss had promoted uncorroborated charges of election fraud. In textbook fashion, the controversial recount drove yet more public attention to the conspiracy theories, engendering yet more suspicion and spawning me-too demands for partisan “audits” across the country.

The Arizona shenanigans will not change the outcome of the 2020 election, but that is not the point. A great propaganda campaign is cyclonic and self-propelled: once unleashed, it takes on a life of its own, heedless of any underlying reality. By that yardstick, the Arizona recount is a great propaganda campaign.

Americans have never been exposed to Russian-style disinformation tactics, at least not coming from a major political party and deployed on a national scale. We are thus dangerously vulnerable to them. What can we do? There are no quick or simple answers; developing immunity requires everything from more sophisticated journalism and better-designed social media platforms to teaching media literacy, and much more.

But here is where to start: Do what Stephen Richer did. Insist loudly, unwaveringly and bravely on calling out lies, even at the cost of partisan solidarity.

Once it became clear that the #StopTheSteal campaign was escalating instead of dying out, Richer went public with a no-holds-barred denunciation of what Trump and his enablers were up to. “Just stop indulging this,” he told CNN. “Stop giving space for lies.”

At his side were all five of the Maricopa County supervisors — four of whom are Republicans. Calling the recount a sham, a con, and a “spectacle that is harming all of us,” they declared they “stand united together to defend the Constitution and the republic in our opposition to the Big Lie. We ask everyone to join us in standing for truth.” They also wrote a blistering 14-page letter shredding the alt-audit in detail.

Propaganda attacks succeed when critical points of resistance collapse; they stumble when trusted voices expose lies for what they are. Individuals and small groups may not be able to shut down a propaganda campaign or neutralize all its effects, but they can strip away its facade of legitimacy and act as an anchor against runaway fabulism. That was why the Soviet Union struggled so mightily to silence Andrei Sakharov and other dissident voices, and why those voices ultimately brought down the evil empire.

And it is why Rep. Liz Cheney made a difference when she chose truthfulness over her job in the Republican congressional leadership. The day she was booted, she read her colleagues John 8:32: “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” She could not end #StopTheSteal, but she could, and did, dent its credibility and embarrass Republicans whose equivocation and silence abetted the Big Lie.

In the same way, Richer and his colleagues in Arizona laid down a marker. They risked their political standing and even their personal safety (Richer has needed security protection) to expose their own party’s propaganda and shame those who spread it.

The deployment of Russian-style information warfare has allowed Trump and his authoritarian cult to usurp the Republican Party. And they are not finished. Now that they have succeeded with mass disinformation, it will be a fixture of American politics for years to come.

Countermeasures begin, though do not end, with personal integrity: standing up for facts and staying reality-based, whatever the short-term political costs. Think of it as epistemic patriotism, and pray for more of it, especially from Republicans.

***

The author, Jonathan Rauch, is a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, and the author of “The Constitution of Knowledge: A Defense of Truth.”

https://www.nydailynews.com/opinion/ny-oped-arizona-dreaming-20210522-uyd6ivuv75hd5gof2geyd5adtu-story.html

[twh-news]

[Most. Understated. Role. Pine???? Hey Collider, maybe we have watched a whole different show? This is clearly an opinion piece, so take it with a pinch of salt.]

Loki sees the return of the titular fan-favorite MCU character, and it's a reminder as to just how damn charming Tom Hiddleston can be. Hiddleston may be best known as Thor’s contemporaneous younger brother, but let's talk about how his full range as an actor was best displayed in the underappreciated 2016 miniseries, The Night Manager. The six-part John le Carre adaptation from writer David Farr and director Susanne Bier cast Hiddleston as Jonathan Pine, a veteran working as the late-night host of a luxury resort in Egypt who gets recruited into ab undercover operation by British Intelligence. The idea of Hiddleston playing an everyman felt like a novelty at the time, but over the series' six hours he delivered his most emotionally grounded and understated performance to date.

John le Carre adaptations are often complex, incorporating hyper-realistic political intrigue with frequent betrayals and double-crosses, and many of the best have entered their interconnected storylines through the perspective of a common man. Hiddleston excels at showing how overwhelmed Pine becomes with the dangerous world he falls into. Because of his job as a night manager, the character is expected to bring a certain charisma energy to all his interactions. Hiddleston brilliantly shows the cracks in that performative magnetism during his first encounter with the renowned arms dealer Richard Roper (Hugh Laurie), who stuns Pine by bringing his villainous gang to the Cairo hotel.

Pine is able to gain Roper’s trust, as his experience in the Iraq War prepared him for life or death scenarios. Pine’s expertise at de-escalating a dangerous situation is previewed within the second episode, in which he saves Roper’s young son Daniel (Noah Jupe) during a business dinner. His wartime history isn’t Pine’s only characteristic, but it’s an integral part of the role that he brings nuance to without overtly expository passages. In fact, it’s his first-hand experience seeing the devastation of chemical weapons in Iraq that gives Pine the motivation to first engage in the scheme to take down Roper. It's also what gives Hiddleston such a layered role. It’s interesting to see Pine incorporate his experience as a soldier within the crafted backstory he must present to Roper; he’s certainly no stranger to violence, but the persona he must adopt requires Pine to pretend to have a criminal background, something that’s far removed from his ordinary professionalism. If Loki’s performative quality leaned into theatricality, Hiddleston has to portray a much different type of deception here. Watching Pine’s illusion crack as Roper's suspicions grow provides the central tension of the series.

The Night Manager is also a more action-centric role than Hiddleston had done before; Loki often utilized minions and amusing shenanigans to avoid actual fights, but here Hiddleston shows an impressive physicality that is dynamic within the action sequences. It’s not a surprise thatThe Night Manager landed Hiddleston's name as a potential candidate to play James Bond, as his introductory scene within the hectic gunfire of the Egyptian Revolution bears a resemblance to Daniel Craig’s iconic crane fight in Casino Royale.

But It’s not just the relentless action that inspired Hiddelston’s proposed candidacy for 007. The Night Manager is also a sleek romance. Pine and Roper’s girlfriend Jed (Elizabeth Debicki) begin to fall for each other during his prolonged operation, and Pine must show his affection for her while making sure he doesn’t reveal any critical information that could endanger the mission. Hiddleston certainly proved that he can bring pathos to a tender romance in 2013's Only Lovers Left Alive, but here he’s able to blend intimacy within the web of le Carre’s interconnected narrative.

It’s also interesting to see Hiddleston play opposite Laurie, whose villainous turn as Roper is everything you would want from a spy series antagonist. Hiddleston is used to being the scene-stealer (Loki never fails to get the last word in), but he has to show some restraint here when Roper unleashes his brutality. Roper’s exhaustive cruelty is perhaps the only aspect of The Night Manager that risks breaking the line of believability, and in a subversion of his normal roles, Hiddleston is the one reigning things back in.

It's a wonderfully understated role that's only more fascinating next to the rest of Hiddleston's filmography. Although the MCU has certainly improved on its villains recently, Loki was really the only compelling antagonist of the first two phases. Not only was Loki the rare bad guy whose motivation and backstory were just as compelling as his archnemesis (and perhaps even more so), Hiddleston brought a signature personality to the role that was sorely lacking among the bland CGI manifestations. Ten years after the first Thor film, Loki has become one of the most fleshed-out characters in the entire franchise; when it was first indicated that supporting characters would begin receiving spinoffs, a Loki series was an automatic suggestion. Hiddleston has leveraged his Marvel celebrity well, choosing to spotlight more experimental genre films from maverick auteurs in his time between MCU installments, including Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak, Ben Wheatley’s High Rise, and Joanna Hogg’s Exhibition.

That’s a pretty diverse selection of genres and filmmakers, but for the most part, Hiddleston's performances have leaned into eccentricity and villainous charisma. A few of Hiddleston's attempts at shedding his inherent idiosyncrasies in favor of more streamlined leading roles have landed with a thud. The 2015 Hank Williams biopic I Saw The Light was met with a tepid response and immediately forgotten within the awards season cycle, and he was unfortunately saddled with an unbelievably bland role in the Monsterverse installment Kong: Skull Island that was overshadowed by more entertaining co-stars like John C. Reilly and Samuel L. Jackson.

The Night Manager demonstrated Hiddleston is more than capable of a well-rounded lead performance, both understated and bold in equal measure. Anyone who caught the le Carre adaptation already knew Hiddleston has what it takes to lead a series; not all Marvel side-characters can carry six hours of storytelling, but Hiddleston has already proven himself up to the task once. It’s unlikely that Loki will be the last time Hiddleston appears in the Marvel franchise, but I hope it launches him into something in the same vein as The Night Manager. (Here's to hoping his upcoming role in the Apple TV+ drama The Essex Serpent has the same depth.) Hiddleston is clearly a great actor who brings unique qualities to his parts, but The Night Manager is the only one that allowed him to show all of them at the same time.

[ai-higurashi]

AU Where Webby and Gadget go to the same school and Mrs. Beakley and Black Heron are their respective single moms. Webby and Gadget are friends while Beakley and Heron are old high school rivals.

Okay I want to apologise bc I've had this in my drafts since forever but in my defense I loved it and kept adding and deleting things

‌THEY ARE BOTH PROUD MAMAS OKAY.

Beakley is a bit more discreet while still really supportive, but Heron can and will fistfight you right there if you disagree that her kid is the best and she WILL be loud about it.

‌Webby and Gadget's friendship is basically Gadget coming up with crazy inventions and Webby, being the little adventurer she is, wasting no time to try the prototypes out, epic backstory included, and give her feedback and sometimes ideas and they spend countless hours without noticing.

‌Both Webby and Gadget get their interpersonal relationship skills from their respective mom. It goes as well as expected. They do get along because of it tho.

‌Neither Beakley nor Heron know about each other until way after their kids meet and become friends, until one day Webby asks if Gadget can stay over after class bc her mom is busy with work. Now, Beakley is still trying to place where on earth has she heard her surname before, but Gadget is a nice and responsible kid, so surely it won't hurt, right? Cue hours later when her mysterious mom comes to pick her up and it's her.

"What the fuck are you doing here??"

"This?? Is my house??? I live here?? What are YOU doing here???"

"OH, HI MOMMY :DD!!!"

‌They both try to act as if they get along great around their daughters because both Webby and Gadget are super sweet kids and they would be sad otherwise (Also, they both love to help, so worst case scenario, Beakley and Heron would be forced to go through a bunch of made-up shenanigans in an attempt to make them bond and they both would rather not), but also since their girls get along really well, they end up being put together at any school event and they are extremely passive aggressive with each other when that happens.

‌When I think about them being high school rivals, I get not only constant competition but also actively trying to kill each other in P.E, putting weird stuff on each other's backpacks, throwing pencil cases through the window and weeklies "Meet me at the park at 5 you little punk, I'll destroy you" "what, scared to do it right now?" that luckily weren't always brought to term because Bradford was really good at de-escalating. Somehow the teachers never caught wind of that and constantly paired them together to see if Ms. Beakley's more level-headed attitude and tendency to follow the rules would be what kept Ms. Hackwrench from destroying the whole goddamn class for once.

‌Used to call each other Heron and 22 as teenagers bc there's no way they were going to call the enemy by her name and it kinda stuck.

‌Heron gives a lot of questionable advice like "Remember dear, if someone bothers you, stab them on the foot to establish dominance. Have fun!!". Beakley is concerned.

‌When Gadget and Webby discover that their moms knew each other from their high school days, they instantly assume that they were best friends and are really happy bc that means more excursions and activities together. I mean, they even have nicknames for each other!! Neither Beakley nor Heron have the heart to tell them the truth

‌Let's face it, Gadget was probably taught to assemble and disassemble machines before she could walk, and she's usually tinkering with something at class to focus better. None of the teachers want to deal with her mother's anger so no one tells her off, because Gadget might be nice, but Heron takes no shit, specially since her kid is doing nothing wrong, and she WILL know if they upset her girl.

‌The first time Beakley and Heron actually get along is when they learn that some kid messed with Gadget and Webby at school. By the time Beakley finds the kid to give them a stern talk, Heron is already there like "LISTEN THERE YOU LITTLE SHIT-" and Bentina ends up having to drag her away bc as much as she loves Gadget and still can't believe someone this nice, thoughtful and cute is Heron's daughter, she's NOT going to raise her while Heron is in jail for second degree murder, thank you very much. Both end up bonding about being single moms. If someone asks, they'll both deny this last thing ever happened.

‌The first time Heron had Webby over for the afternoon it was because there was literally no other choice and Beakley was panicking.

Okay this is me we're talking about, so their high school rivalry started bc Heron's definetely the kind of kid that didn't know how to deal with her slight crush on the new girl so she sent her a "get out of my school" note and they've been at each other's throats since then.

Bonus shipping points if eventually Gadget and Webby put two and two together and realize that "I have a mom. You have a mom. That means if we pair them together we'll both get two moms!!!" "Omg you're right!!"

Bonus kid Gadget because I love her so much