#help i went on a proper ramble i just think its quite funny

[yerbamansa]

Ohhhh my god, so I wrote a novel-length fic over the last five months and I just…need to write down some Thoughts on that, because it hadn’t happened before and I have no idea if it will again, just seemed worthwhile to collect myself a bit. To be clear: I’m…really proud of myself?? Who knew I had it in me! And I think it’s a fun read! I learned a lot! More under a cut if you care to read my ramblings.

The gdoc containing my initial outline of ideas was created on October 29, 2022. I shared it with the group chat from whence the idea came, because I was planning to participate in a daily prompt challenge in November so I wasn’t going to have time for it yet. By late November, quite a bit of work was happening in the doc—a proper outline with a three-act structure I borrowed from various writing tips websites and then wandered off on my own with. I’ve never written something this structured and long before, so I searched for some structure tips.

I found a few different forms (a 9-block, 27-chapter structure; a three-act checklist) that I ended up using almost like a self-survey/brainstorm. A couple passes through that, plus trying to work it out as a character/timeline spreadsheet, gave the whole thing a much clearer shape. I knew I wanted to alternate between Ed’s and Stede’s POVs, but not limit it to theirs. Early on I decided that Oluwande would be a third POV character because (a) I love writing him and (b) the crew’s perspective is REALLY IMPORTANT. Then, because I used Lucius as an outsider, he became the fourth POV, introduced at the beginning of act 2.

[ID: A bar chart showing word count by POV character. Ed has over 34,000 words, Stede about 26,000 words, Oluwande 13,000 words, and Lucius a little under 10,000 words. End ID.]

But it’s not like I had it 100% perfectly mapped out at a chapter level, nor did I know exactly what details would…emerge. Like, I knew the shape of the details, but I kind of worked them out as I got to know this version of the characters better. The outlining process was kind of my draft: I went through it to get to the point that I could sit down and outline each chapter (or two ahead, in some cases) and then write it.

Very few things were written out of order, but the scene where they’re trapped in the storage closet was written well before I finished chapter 1. And I thought it would happen later than it did. I really thought I was gonna enemies-to-lovers these guys! 😂

There were a TON of details/potential plotlines I thought about including, but ultimately decided not to, either because it was totally out of my lane to do it justice (ex.: literally anything to do with Ed’s heritage and food—I read up some and whew, it’d have to be its own story, and not really mine to tell) and/or because it would’ve overcomplicated/distracted from the plot as it unfolded. There was a whole thing where Stede was meant to pull a Christopher Kimball thing and screw over the magazine by starting a rival publication and, you know what, there was more than enough drama to mine from just the Bon Appetit Test Kitchen debacle(s).

The idea came from a group chat, and the same group chat was instrumental in helping me flesh out a bunch of character details. That was fun. That’s also where my main beta reader came from. It’s funny, I’ve written on and off pretty much my whole life, but rarely had an editor like this. It was very collaborative and challenging in the best possible ways, I think; especially with something this long, it really helped to have someone who knew some of what was in my head but wasn’t nose-deep in it.

While it hasn’t been a runaway hit or anything, it’s had by far more eyeballs than anything else I’ve written in this fandom. Definitely a lot more comments than anything else, which is fun. Some folks I really admire have said kind things and if that didn’t make me all 😊 well. (It did, though.) It was because of those commenters that I got a sense of how it was coming off—that it was, and could be, fun and frothy and still touch on subjects that were difficult (labor rights etc.) without making light of them. At least, that’s what I hope I pulled off in the end.

There were so many random little side routes and ideas that came up while thinking about and writing this that I really had to make a series. For the one-shots. For fuck’s sake, I put too much into building out this little world and this version of each character not to.

And if one of those ends up being some kind of E-rated fic involving Mary and Evelyn, like, posing for Doug with fresh fruit still-life and it turning into A Whole Thing, so be it. (It didn’t make the story text, but Mary and Evelyn are married and Doug is Mary’s guy who lives in the guest house out back. Also they make cooking YouTube videos together as a trio. There will probably be one-shots about them because Evelyn was too much fun to write.)

[creepywing]

that is so funny mcyt has really followed you everywhere and anywhere huh. i need to step up my game, maybe start watching streams in public more (i could never ) like the only cool thing ive done is run through a field listening to lovejoy a couple times (would recommend esp. when singing loudly)

oh god if you wanna talk about mcyt following me everywhere lets talk about WILBUR SOOT cause ive known wilbur since SOOTHOUSE. i literally started watching soothouse by accident cause i was talking to a new friend and i sent a screenshot of a soothouse video and she replied like "omg you watch soothouse?" and i didnt but i would be awkward to say no so i was like "YES I DO!" and binged every soothouse video

then a while later i was a bit of a jacksucksatlife enjoyer and he gets an email from some guy called wilbur SOOT and im like. i .. know him.. and ITS THE GUY FROM SOOTHOUSE?? so. thats how i watched the arg as it was happening.

i also saw him on an rtgame video a bit later during smplive but i never watched any of his stuff till i decided to binge watch a load of his videos a bit later.

AND then one day i watched a dream manhunt which led to me discovering sbi were a thing (even though i knew techno and vaguely phil before that. tommy wasnt sbi yet) and BAM watched first wilbur stream.

so yea this man has been FOLLOWING me lmao sorry for the proper ramble

[the-unknown-storyteller]

The Sight Of Such Pretty Things

Summary: Wilbur is dead and Ghostbur fills the place he has left behind, mending the broken relationships he has thrown aside.

Wilbur is dead, but Ghostbur is alive in the sense that he gets to experience all the little things his former self may have taken for granted.

Talking with Philza about the colour green, stargazing with Tommy until deep into the night and collecting wild potatoes with Techno remind him that he is not that person anymore. That these moments are his and his alone.

Nevermind the fact that he can't talk freely, breaching sensitive topics left and right and touching people with hands that can only seem to remind and hurt with memories he himself cannot remember.

__

It all starts with Philza. With him and his green-striped bucket hat that ignites an irrational interest in Ghostbur's mind. It's such a nice green, is all he can think, as he walks laps around Philza's living room, mindlessly chattering and rambling on about his day. 

His restless hands throw a small piece of lapis that he found the other day from side to side, palming it in his right hand whenever he raises his hands in exaggerated sweeps and gestures to accompany his excited words about his newest project.

"-saw it just the other day and I really wanted to build it and Tubbo said he didn't mind it, so I just went right ahead and, Phil, I just gotta say, it's coming along great! Fundy is helping me balance it properly, so that it won't topple over and accidentally crush the main walkways and-" 

Ghostbur can hear his father hum every now and then to let him know that he is listening, as he mends the latest rip in one of his green shirts. Green like the stripes on his bucket hat. Both his feet and his words come to a stop, strangely fixated. It's so green.

"Hey, Phil, have you ever noticed how green your bucket hat actually is?" Ghostbur drifts over to his father to get a closer look at his hat, his crane building story forgotten. "Like, it's really green. One might think that, with all the fighting and running it has probably endured, it must have definitely lost its colourfulness. But look!" He raises his hands to frame the hat, as though it were something exceptionally precious. "Still as green as the day you got it, I'm sure!", he exclaims with a grin, his face mere centimetres away from Phil's.

"Uh, thanks, I guess." Philza laughs awkwardly, shuffling on his seat. "Never knew you were this enthusiastic about green clothes, mate."

"Oh, I'm not," Ghostbur chirps, playing with his piece of lapis, "I just really like yours, especially your hat!" He rubs his thumb over the stone one last time before putting it away, missing the way Phil's smile becomes strained. 

"It's funny that you say that. Someone I knew had the exact same sentiment towards green," Phil says softly, pulling the bucket hat from his head, rubbing at the worn fabric. "Especially towards my hat."

"Oh, how fun! Who was it?" Ghostbur loses concentration in his excitement and can distantly feel his body slowly float upwards, rotating until he stands upside down on the ceiling. Unbothered, he keeps talking. "Maybe you could introduce us sometime and we could talk about the colour green, about your green! I don't know what-"

"I… I don't think that will be possible, mate. It's been some time since I last… saw them," Phil apologizes, his voice catching at the end of the sentence.

Ghostbur sinks back down to the floor with a frown. He's done it again. "Are you okay, Phil? Here, have some blue. Calm yourself," he says, folding his hand around the blue he's just placed in his father's hands. He knows he's upset him. He keeps upsetting everyone because he keeps forgetting what is taboo to talk about and what isn't. Apparently, Philza's bucket hat is one of those things. What a shame, he really likes how green it is.

__

Tommy lets his almost broken axe fall to the ground, before flopping down himself. Sitting next to the small fire he lets out an annoyed groan.

"You know, you could have helped me chop down those trees instead of just standing there, watching and shit", he scoffs, picking at the splinters in his hands. All afternoon he had been chopping down tree after tree. Probably for his tower, which was looming behind Tommy in the far distance.

Ghostbur gives him a smile, quietly picking at the strings of his guitar, as he ignores his complaint. The soothing melody accompanies the constant crackling of their campfire and the sizzling of the fish above the flames. He starts humming for a bit, letting his gaze wander, and then he starts talking. 

"You know, I think you're quite lucky, Tommy. To be out here-", he starts, rotating the fish to keep it from burning. He resumes his strumming.

"Wha-?! What the fuck are you saying, Wil-"

"Where there is barely any light to taint the night sky", Ghostbur continues, undeterred by Tommy's protest. He repositions his left hand and the song becomes a bit more somber, bringing down the mood of the conversation with the descending chord progression. "I mean, the sky is just so beautiful out here, look," he breathes, tilting his head upwards. He notices his little brother frowning in his peripheral, but he follows his instructions and looks up as well.

"And what am I supposed to be seeing?"

"The stars, Tommy!" A grin spreads across his grayed out cheeks. The soft strumming stops for a moment, as Ghostbur makes a sweeping motion across the horizon. "The stars." A breath of admiration leaves his empty lungs.

"What about them?", Tommy asks, an annoyed tint to his voice. He sounds exhausted. Maybe he should have helped with the wood chopping, actually. Next time, maybe. Because right now, all he can think about is the twinkling and shining of the stars above him. How has he never noticed how many there are? How bright they are?

"Are you not seeing the same thing I'm seeing? Look at the stars, the milky way, they're all so incredibly clear out here in the wilderness." A shooting star flies across the sky, making Ghostbur gasp in child-like glee. "Quick! Make a wish, Tommy!"

"That's stupid, Ghostbur. I'm not a stupid child, believing in something stupid such as-"

"Ah, come on, Tommy. What's the worst that could happen? Just make a wish with me." Ghostbur claps his hands together more forcefully than was really necessary and closes his eyes. He peeks at the boy in ragged and torn clothes next to him, looking more tired and broken than a boy his age should, and mouths his silent wish for his little brother to please, please, come out of this alright. 

"Your turn!" He smiles, quietly rubbing at a piece of blue from his messenger bag when he's done.

"Ugh, fine," Tommy groans. He claps his hands together and closes his eyes with much less enthusiasm than the former did. His lips don't move along with his silent wish, but Ghostbur trusts his sincerity. Knows that the other can't be anything but sincere in almost everything he does. Whether he wants to or not. After a few moments he opens them back up. "There, done," he grumbles, "happy?"

A grin in approval and a nod, making Tommy roll his eyes. A shiver runs down his arms with the dropping temperatures of the night. Ghostbur stands up without a word, dumping three thick blankets on top of the younger when he returns. Satisfied when Tommy is adequately bundled up for the night, he sits back down at his place in front of the fire, picking up his guitar from the ground, and begins to strum yet another melody, more soothing than somber this time. He leans back against the tree log behind him, continuing to play long after the other has finally fallen asleep, only occasionally stopping to throw a log in the flames to keep the fire going. His eyes stay fixed at the stars that are so much brighter than they ever were in any of his faded memories.

__

The third time he gets fixated on something arguably insignificant, he is with Techno. They're out on a hunt for wild potatoes, since most of his old crops lay abandoned in their old ravine and the few that he managed to take with him long ago were not enough to start a proper farm. 

So here they were, quite a few thousand blocks away from Techno's base, where the ground isn't permanently frozen and manages to support the occasional berry bushes and even some wild carrots. When they come across some tall yellow-white flowers, Techno immediately puts down his bag next to them and gets out his shovel. He plows through the dirt, bringing up large chunks with every scoop he takes. They're littered with the beautiful golden glow of potatoes. 

Ghostbur floats up to the piglin, watching him check every potato he finds and throw the good ones in his bag. The dirt, damp with recently fallen rain, sticks to Techno's clothes, getting stuck in the fur of his red cape and leaving dirty smudges on his crown whenever he adjusts it. Ghostbur tilts his head, feeling a strangely familiar itch in his hands, urging him to go, go, touch it, touch it now, take it. He ignores it.

It's dirty.

"You know, I've always been curious, Techno." He picks up one of the bigger potatoes on the ground to keep his hand busy and turns it over in his hand, looking for any faults on its skin. He throws it up in the air a few times, judging its weight. "Why are you so… fascinated with them?" He throws the large potato, which the other catches easily. His eyes drift down to the red of his cape and the white of his fur collar, clumps of dirt and mud spread throughout. He tears his gaze away. "I remember you having a large farm in the ravine and I think I've never seen you eat anything other than a baked potato." 

"I do not only eat baked potatoes," Techno protests, picking up his bag and walking towards the next yellow-white flower cluster he sees in the close distance. The ghost follows with impossibly light steps.

"I only eat them most of the time," he admits, driving his shovel into the ground. He throws his falling cape back over his shoulder, ignoring the way it accidentally gets dragged through a muddy puddle next to him.

"Which is most of the time if we're being honest," Ghostbur remarks with a grin, his hands still itch with the thought of Techno's red cape getting dirty, he's always so careless with it, the white fur is getting ruined. He starts plucking the yellow-white flowers, delighted when he finds a slightly purple variant of it.

"Because they are clearly the superior food source," Techno shoots back, throwing the last potato in his bag. He notices that Ghostbur's is still completely empty except for a piece of lapis and the sack full of blue that he is so fond of carrying and handing out. With a sigh, he keeps moving. They change location a few more times, whenever the ground has no more potatoes to give, until both bags are finally filled to the brim.

Satisfied with the amount, Techno puts his shovel away and they start the trek back to his base. The sun is only two hours away from setting and they're quite a long way away from home, so Techno picks up his pace, pulling the ghost with him, away from the bees and their nest in the tree.

With nothing to preoccupy his hands Ghostbur takes out his piece of lapis, running his fingers over its rough ridges. His crown is smudged with mud.

"There is dirt on your crown," Ghostbur points out, looking up at Techno's head with a frown. "And your cape." He picks at some clumps of mud and pulls out a few small twigs.

"It's fine, I can just wash it, when we get back." And that's that. Except Ghostbur knows that Techno will just hang it up at the entrance, brushing off the worst of the by then dried mud the next time he has to go out and wear it. How does he know that. Now that he's pointed it out and begun cleaning it, the itch in his hands has grown to be unbearable. This feels familiar. He won't be able to clean the cape right away without any soap or water, he's always so careless with it, never properly taking care, and his crown is dirty with mud.

"Give it to me," Ghostbur suddenly demands, extending his hand towards Techno's crown. Why is this so important to me? "Give me your crown." The piglin raises an eyebrow at the demand, but hands over the golden crown with a shrug, curious as to what has the ghost riled up so suddenly.

Ghostbur snatches the crown from the other's hand and starts to clean it with the fabric of his sweater. The mud that has since dried slowly flakes off and reveals the shiny surface underneath. He almost obsessively rubs at the inlaid jewels, scratching away the dirt. He turns it over a few times when he is done and returns it to his owner with a slight huff. "Please take better care of it next time."

Techno chuckles at the ghost antics, but his brows are pulled together and he looks anything but amused. He doesn't hide his small frown fast enough.

Ghostbur mentally adds Techno's crown to the taboo list, as they continue walking home. At least the itching in his hands has stopped.

[badger-writes]

Star Wars OC Ship Week 2021 - for light and love

uhhhh Hello! 😄

This fic and all its chapters was written for Star Wars OC Ship Week's inaugural year 2021, an event spotlighting OCxEC romances & platonic friendships helmed by @findswoman! It's also the first time I've personally ever taken part in an event week so I hope I do a good job! 😅

Whether you're a High Republic fan or you just want to see the big lizard get smooches, hope you enjoy! Leave comments and kudos if you do! Looking forward to sharing all I've written over the course of the week w/ y'all!

1 - How They Met

It all started, as these things do, in a medical bay.

Kelto Lem, a Jedi healer, had been busying himself with organizing the implements and instruments of the first aid wing in the Halls of Healing. This was light work, and peaceful, which suited him fine. Rarely, if ever, were there emergencies in the Jedi Temple of such scope and scale as to totally overwhelm the medical ward, and to the best of his recollection they had never occurred in the early morning, when dew was still settled on the trees and grasses of Monument Park. This made it an optimal time for preparing the ward for most of the day’s eventualities well ahead of schedule; this making good sense to him, he settled into this habit as a padawan and had never quite given it up. In time, it became almost a meditative practice for him - refilling stores of fresh bandages, taking stock of available pharmaceuticals and herbal remedies, refilling the kolto canisters…

And so it was in the middle of this daily routine that he was interrupted by the door sliding open. He turned to look and nearly dropped the medical scanner he was holding - for two reasons.

 The first: his guest was built like a permacrete E-Web bunker. Broad and tall, with an implied physicality that not even Jedi robes concealed, the visitor - a Trandoshan - strode into the ward with an aura of stern command, stolid orange eyes locking upon Kelto almost immediately. His emerald scales shone with a slight luster as he walked, the claws of his toes clicking against the tile floor, until he came to the edge of the biobed in the center of the room less than a foot away from the resident healer. The sheer weight of his presence made Kelto feel small by comparison - he, a shorter pale-scaled Rodian with stripes of deep blue running along his jaw and neck, who wore a satchel of first aid essentials on his hip everywhere he went and tied back his spines in a long, narrow topknot ending in a spiky pom where they escaped the hold of the strip of linen which restrained them.

The second: he was covered in scorchmarks.

“Star’s End,” Kelto said, when he could finally get his (dry, dry) mouth to work correctly. “What in the world happened to you?”

The Trandoshan rumbled, mouth pulling to one side in chagrin. It was a deep, bassy sound, and it landed straight in the pit of Kelto’s stomach. 

“A… mishap with the duelling droid,” he grunted, in the sibilant speech of his species. “I was not focused. Lost sight of my present. It seized the opportunity, as you can see,” he added, gesturing to his scorched robes.

“You were training? This early? Chee,” Kelto said, shaking his head. “And I thought my morning habits were odd - jump up on the bench, here, I’ll patch you up.”

He turned away to fetch some burn relief supplies, piling them on a tray. When he turned back, the Trandoshan had sat upon the biobed - and his tunic was resting carefully folded on the bench beside him.

“Ahghg,” he said, and everything on his tray rattled as he short-circuited.

The Trandoshan gave him an odd look. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. I’m fine,” Kelto stammered. “Let me just, uhhh… set this down here.”

He let the tray’s repulsorlifts catch it in midair, so that it would hover at his side. Then he took a ball of fluff and daubed it in a squat open vial of kolto, letting the excess drip off and trying not to think too much about the barrel-chested masterpiece of physicality sitting just within arm’s reach to his right.

“So, how did this happen, Master …?”

“Knight, actually,” the patient replied. “Not master - not yet, anyway. And as I said, I was training.”

“Only a Knight? ...Well, I guess if you were a Master, you wouldn’t have ended up - err, you know what, forget I said that.”

With kolto-ball and medigauze dressings in hand, Kelto turned to his patient and gave him a quick once-over. There were injuries in areas roughly corresponding to the placement of scorch marks on the surface of his clothes, but fortunately, most of them didn’t seem too severe - the robes acting as a layer of insulation against the worst of it. Quite intentionally, he started on the outside limbs, an attempt to spare himself another hot flush provoked by looking straight on at his patient’s torso. Sskeer didn’t even flinch when he touched the wet medical fluff against an abrasion on the side of his arm.

“I train on one or two levels above the normal training setting,” the Trandoshan offered, by way of explanation. “Thus, my injuries.”

“Ah,” Kelto murmured, mostly to himself. “A masochist.”

Sskeer grunted reproachfully. “The training settings are designed to hold back. There will be no such reprieve in the field. Therefore, I train the body to anticipate the presence of harm - to become numb to its threat, and then, to surpass it.”

“So you’re fine with the pain?”

“Pain can be ignored. And my people have thick hides. I endure.” 

“Well, I’m no duelist, but in my estimation you could probably stand to bump back down a few levels,” Kelto observed, winding a bandage around his forearm. “At least until you can defeat one of those saber-happy droids.”

Sskeer hrrred. The sound landed in Kelto’s gut again. “Bold words from a nurse.”

“Bold enough to be a Knight, like you.” The Rodian retorted, flashing him a smirk - and turning away immediately when the sensation of being perceived became too much. (His cheeks were so warm - was it supposed to be so hot in here?) Falling silent, he took one of Sskeer’s wide, thick-fingered hands in his own, turning it to inspect the green welt on its back.

“I did not realize you had risen to Knighthood as well,” the Trandoshan offered as Kelto dressed his injury. “If I offended, it was not by intent.”

“It’s fine. I’d rather people forget, honestly. Most people, they see a Jedi and think, ‘wow! Laser swords! Magic powers!’ - but that’s… never really where I felt comfortable.”

“You feel your place is here.”

“It’s where my talents lie, I think. I’ve sort of been drawn to the healing halls ever since I left the creche. And… well, to be honest, I like being able to help people doing this. So… I guess it’s true what they say, about the Force having a path for us all, and all that.”

Sskeer hummed. “That is good.”

“Yeah, and I remember when I was little, Master Rancisis came by the ward and said a-- I’m sorry, am I rambling? I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’ll just shut up and tend you--”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I just dropped basically my whole backstory on you--”

“It’s fine,” Sskeer said - firmly, but patiently. “Really.”

And Kelto believed him.

It’s funny, he thought suddenly, how quickly you can get comfortable with someone else. A moment ago he could barely stand to meet Sskeer’s gaze - now, though, he could look him straight in the eye without feeling like wilting. Sskeer had surprisingly deep eyes, he noticed, for how small they were. Deep and dark. Like he could dip into his pupils and fall forever --

Oh gosh, there’s a huge green mark right on his temple. How did he miss that??

Kelto dunked a fresh puffball in the healing fluid and held it up to the Trandoshan’s brow, cradling it in his long, sucker-tipped fingers. This time, when it touched his skin, Sskeer flinched and barely suppressed a hiss. On instinct, Kelto shushed him - a habit picked up from soothing much younger patients, when he got his start tending the younglings’ skinned knees and broken bones.

“This one’s not so bad, I think,” he murmurs. “Just needs a little kolto to help keep it clean. Just put some ice on it every few hours for the swelling and it’ll go away soon.”

“And this?”

“Hm?”

Sskeer gestured again to a long line of angry green flesh across his trunk.

“OH Force,” the Rodian cried, slapping a hand against his forehead. “I completely missed that somehow, thank you so much, I’m so sorry. Gods, I’ll get right on that--”

The Trandoshan surprises him with a chuckle. “Rather absentminded for a healer, aren’t you?”

“D-don’t judge!” Kelto sputters. “I’ve been distracted.”

“By what, exactly?” Sskeer asked, with a smirk.

“... J-just lie all the way down, please?”

Sskeer leaned back onto the biobed, hands resting behind his back. Now the whole of his broad, stocky abdomen lies prone under the glowlights, throwing the long diagonal burn across his trunk into stark, unmistakable relief.

“Why is this one so much worse,” Kelto wonders aloud.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘worse’. As I said, I endure.”

“I’m sorry, this doesn’t look like a giant, stinging saber-welt to you?” Kelto peered closer at the mark, hesitantly plying the flesh of the Trandoshan’s belly under his fingers. “...Actually, wait. This is almost a first degree burn. What kind of training saber makes marks like these?”

Now it was Sskeer’s turn to fall quiet and avoid eye contact.

“...You… did something pretty dumb, didn’t you.”

“...When my performance against the droids began to suffer, I… disabled some of the limiters on the droids,” Sskeer growled, at length.

“Y-you did WHAT?”

“I thought it would motivate me to improve,” he shrugged.

“So when I called you a masochist earlier and you didn’t really deny it--”

This time, Sskeer almost snarled. “It’s no crime to seek out a proper challenge.”

“Oh, and if every adrenaline junkie Padawan jumped off the High Council Tower, you would too?”

“Will you just stop arguing and fix this?”

“I--” Kelto groaned. “Okay, whatever, big guy. Just - just hang on.”

He arranged his hands on either side of Sskeer’s wound - one above on his chest, one below on his stomach. Then he sucked in a deep breath through his snout and released it slowly, letting his eyes fall shut as he exhaled. 

He was panicking, he knew. Overcorrecting. There was no reason to take things this far when he was literally standing in a room filled with other, more practical solutions - and certainly not over something so silly as a shouting match with a Knight he barely knew. But by now, good sense and training had momentarily fled him. 

Here, in this moment, Kelto sank into the Force and let himself be guided by the simple instinct to help.

He took another slow breath in, and out, and began to concentrate.

And then…

Sskeer sensed it before he saw it. He craned his neck over his chest to see - and rose up on his elbows, watching intensely.

With preternatural speed, the hideous burn across his torso lightened, shrank - and then vanished. In its place only unblemished scales remained.

Like he’d never even been touched.

Kelto let out one final, explosive breath - and almost collapsed. Sskeer jolted to his feet and grabbed his arms, cradled his back in one arm, steadying him on his feet until he could recover.

“Nice catch,” Kelto panted, when he’d finally recovered.

Sskeer was looking at him differently, the Rodian noticed through the blur of lightheadedness. Looking with him with something like awe.

“That was… quite a feat,” the Trandoshan noted. “It seems you were correct to follow the path of the healers.” 

“Y-yes, well,” Kelto murmured sleepily, “we all have our own special talents.” 

His eyes trailed back to Sskeer’s chest, fingertips idly following their gaze down his trunk. They tickled, just slightly; Sskeer registered an unexpected, but not wholly unpleasant shiver down his spine.

“Think we’re all done now,” the Rodian mumbled. Then his big, sea-blue eyes blinked - slowly, then rapidly, like a Wookiee propeller-engine starting up - and he realized his hand was just shy of cupping one of Sskeer’s pecs.

“UM,” he said loudly, jumping away. “YEAH, so, all done. Clean bill of health. You should be completely fine within the next day or so, and then you can go get your butt handed to you by the training droids again, right? Yup, glad to help, have a nice day, May the Force Be With You and all that jizz, ahaha~”

The Rodian became a flurry of hyperactivity around the ward, re-stocking and re-checking shelves and cabinets for reasons Sskeer could not divine. To appear busy, he supposed - and discourage his continued presence.

It was, he decided, reather endearing. 

Sskeer let the flustered healer flail a moment more before saying, “I don’t think you ever shared your name.”

When he looked over his shoulder, Kelto’s face looked as bright as a Life Day orb - only much, much greener. “Huh?”

“Force healing is no small feat,” the Trandoshan observed, slipping his tunic and tabard back over his shoulders. “To have seen it performed is a privilege; for something as small as my own self-inflicted injury, and after my own stubbornness - an honor. 

“I’d prefer to thank you for it properly, and to apologize. But for that, I must ask your name.”

The Rodian stared. Then coughed, turning to lean back against the counter before him. “Uh, well… That’s … kind of you, but I - you know, we’re Jedi and all. W-we don’t really serve for gratitude’s sake.”

“For the sake of a fellow Jedi, then, and a friend?” 

“…Friend?”

A bemused head tilt. “Are we not?”

“W-well, that’s moving a bit quickly, isn’t it? I mean - we don’t even know each other’s names.”

Sskeer stared.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not dumb, I swear, I’m just -- panicking.”

The Trandoshan gave him a funny look. (It was kinda cute, Kelto noticed, when his nose scrunched up like that.) 

Just spit it out. Spit it out. Spit it out. You’re blowing it. Just spit it out spititout spititout---

“My name’s Kolto,” he said -- and groaned.

“Your name,” Sskeer echoed, “is...‘Kolto’?”

“Noooo, no, not ‘Kolto’ - Kelto! Kelto! My name is Kelto. Kelto Lem. I just - I’m just called ‘Kolto’. By - certain people.”

“Because… you work with kolto?” he ventured. “Or because it happens to sound similar?”

Kelto sulked, crossing his arms. “Because Torban Buck thinks he’s funny.” 

Understanding dawned. “Ah. Yes, he certainly does.”

“Mmmmgh. Well, now that I’ve botched my own introduction, I guess you know me. So you can leave me to my shame, now, I guess.” Kelto returned to the business of managing the ward - opening and closing cabinet doors slightly harder, this time.

A wide, three-fingered hand landed on his narrow shoulder, making him jump.

“Thank you, Kelto Lem,” Sskeer said. “Truly, you’re a credit to the Order.”

His voice was deep and warm. Kelto swore he could feel his breath tickling his ear.

“A-anytime,” he replied, spine locking ramrod straight.

He senses Sskeer’s presence pass by behind him, and imagines it’s what little Rodian swamp-fish feel like when big surface trawlers pass by, and catch them in their wake. “And perhaps when I continue my training,” Sskeer added, “I will remember to return here, for my wounds to be dressed.”

“Orrr you could crush those droids and never need to come back here again!” Kelto shakily returned.

“I’m sure I could, at that,” Sskeer chuckled. And the door slides shut behind him.

The moment Kelto was certain he was alone, he took a little paper cup and pours himself a drink of cool sinkwater. It takes gulping down two full cupfuls before he cools down, sinking heavily on his elbows against the counter.

“‘Kolto’,” he muttered, scoffing. “God damn it.”

[princeanxious]

Yes PLZ write for that accidentally alpha AU, i want to read about Virgil meeting the pack and him/Roman growing close over time and all that jazz (just whatever prinxiety snippet there)

I tried! This is technically a part two to the last snippet i did so!! I hope it’s okay!(its not beta’d so forgive me for any mistakes xD)

[[MORE]]

Winging it, as it turned out, had been much easier said than done.

From the get go, things had been rough between the pack and Virgil. Despite them all loving Patton as their new Alpha and accepting Virgil into the pack as he was the new Alpha’s son, he did not share his adoptive father’s bubbly, trusting personality.

Infact, Virge was actually quite the opposite, he was not very optimistic and trusting others was often hard to do. It resulted in a ton of distress and friction between pack members, especially because he often refused to be involved in their activities unless Patton forced him to.

It wasn’t like the pack wanted him, they were just doing it because he was the Alpha’s son, right? Well, though he tried hard to not be outwardly rude, he wanted nothing to do with it.

Overtime though, they tried more and more to interact with him, less obligations and simply small questions. ‘Can you help me with this?’ and ‘do you need help with that’ and ‘you wanna hang out?’ And he appreciated the effort.

Logan seemed the most distressed about Virgil’s self-isolation in his and Patton’s apartment, noting that it was heavily negatively affecting his mental health. Despite both trying though, they just couldn’t seem to say quite the right thing to get Virgil to understand or make a change. Things only seemed to get worse once Patton and Virgil moved into their new home with the pack on the outskirts of town.

Eventually, Roman had had enough. Roman and Virgil had the most friction between them, and after a while the werewolf became fed up with their constant tension when all he wanted was to be friends. With Logan and Patton’s permission, Roman decides he’d convince Virgil in his own way.

And that way was: using his strength(both in wolf form and human form) to carefully overpower Virgil in such a way that leaves him unable to escape from social obligations but still gives him enough coverage to hide away if he only asks. Aka: Pick Virgil up when he seems he’s about to hide away and set him in Roman’s lap(or, in wolf form, carefully pin him to the ground by laying over his legs) and let him rave and struggle all he wants until he’s either out of energy(happened more often than not at the beginning of this) or gives up(eventually starts happening more often as this behavior continues). Step two is to interact with Virgil, be it bickering or arguing, talking or singing. A lot of times, he lets Virgil work on his college work, and the only requirement is that he stay in the main area when he can seek contact and become more comfortable with the pack. He finds that under all the aggression and defensiveness in Virgil is So. Much. Anxiety. From pent up energy with nowhere to go, worries constantly swirling in his head, constantly having to check things to soothe his thoughts, and a very severe insecurity over not having any kind of control of his life.

Overtime, they bond. Virgil’s insults of ‘You overgrown furbag’ turn into ‘You giant puppy,’ and he very rarely has to be picked up anymore. Infact, they begin a little routine that Roman began when he found Virgil too wound up, that leads to them roughhousing and Roman holding back just enough to let Virgil exert as much extra energy as needed to destress. All it takes is a playful shove or a snarky ‘betcha can’t catch me’ and the two are tumbling. It takes years for Roman to admit he’s always been super careful and gentle with Virgil in doing this, making sure he never hits his head too hard or lands wrong. True playful werewolf roughhousing leaves bruises and bitemarks and scratches, but with humans being so fragile, it’s a different story. Their roughhousing isn’t about playful dominance between pack members, it’s a stress reliever and excess energy drainer for Virgil’s benefit. (Though, on more than one occasion their sessions have ended rather awkwardly when Roman ends up above Virgil, pinning him down with a successful smirk, or Virgil over Roman, straddling his hips and cheering in victory)

They are both so, so gay for one another.

It doesn’t take long for Patton’s teasing to make Virgil realize he’s actually v much crushing on Roman, which he never thought would be possible even though it makes sense. Roman, who refused to give up on Virgil. Roman, who figured out a way to help him open up and bond with the pack, who he now unashamedly calls his family. Roman, who helped him figure out healthy coping mechanisms after noticing he needed them. Roman, who had done everything to Accept Virgil after Virgil had been such an ass to him.

For a long time, Virgil thinks he isn’t worthy of Roman’s love because Roman had done so much for him and he’d practically done nothing for him in return. He doesn’t know how to handle it, and suddenly the person who’d had his brain trained to send out happy chemicals at simply even seeing their smiles were now sending him distressed and guilty signals.

Being the receptive man he is, Roman notices almost immediately. And, in using the same method as he had used to break Virgil from his shell(aka refusing to let him run from it), he gets Virgil to confess what's been eating him up so badly.

It takes a long while for Roman to really think of a proper response, though not because he’s surprised Virgil feels guilty, but because Virgil thinks he hadn’t been returning the sentiment(though, he wouldn’t have cared if Virgil had never given him any gift.).

Roman’s love language is Acts of Service, and Virgil had been doing plenty of that, just as much as Ro had been doing for Virgil, infact. Spending time with Roman, helping him figure out how to bind his books a certain way, occasionally doing one or two of Roman’s chores(of those he was capable of doing, at least) when Roman seemed to need it. The times where Virgil would sit and tell Roman funny and crazy stories about his old jobs when he didn’t feel well, and the time when Roman had gotten sick and Virgil had fretted over him till he was better, and the list went on.

Steadily, red creeps up Virgil’s neck the longer Roman poetically waxes a romantic ramble about Virgil, and by the time Roman can catch his breath, Virgil’s red as a tomato, flustered beyond so much more than Roman had ever seen from Virgil.

Suffice it to say, Roman gets to scatter kisses all over Virgil’s scrunched up face later that day, and if they were both blushing and laughing all the while, well, no one was going to stop them.

[nervously-spouting-poetry]

don’t breathe too deep (don’t think all day)

@watchwhathappensfromafar day 2 of au week! It’s a little late but I don’t care fhksfdlb Werewolf/vampire stories are my favorites, so I hope I’m doing this justice hadslkfkljas. Warning for swearing and mild body horror. Didn’t go off the shits for this one because I wanted to do something sorta fluffy with it.

Jack Kelly smelled wrong.

Or, he would’ve smelled wrong, had he had a proper smell to him, but he didn’t, which, as far as Davey was concerned, was worse than wrong.

See, Race smelled like his cigars that usually remained unlit, and Crutchie smelled like dirt more often than not. Romeo always smelled like the perfumes he was trying, Spot smelled of sweat, and yes, Jack smelled like paints, like paints and city smoke, but he didn’t have any scent that was distinctly his own, which was odd. As far as Davey knew, most humans smelled of something that he couldn’t quite explain. Something that was just... human. But Jack just didn’t. He didn’t smell like anything.

Which was weird.

To be fair, the fact that Davey noticed to begin with was also pretty weird.

He couldn’t help it. Being a werewolf in Lower Manhattan of all places was exhausting, and being a part of the newsies there only made it harder to keep it a secret. He’d caught himself growling at Racetrack once, though to be fair, the full moon had been the next night, and he’d reluctantly had to hawk headlines about infernal barking and dog attacks the next morning.

Keeping the secret was difficult-- but he had to do it. He didn’t get a choice in the matter. If word got out that one of the Jacobses was a were... he didn’t want to think about the consequences. They’d go after him, of course, but Les... Les wasn’t like him. None of his family members were, and as far as Davey was concerned, it was going to stay that way.

One werewolf was more than enough, as far as he was concerned.

With his bag slung over his shoulder and his cap slightly crooked on his head, Davey walked side by side with Jack, the scentless wonder himself, and tried his best to focus on the words Jack was saying. It wasn’t normally hard to focus, and he was fairly certain he was doing a good job at pretending to focus, nodding along in all the right places as Jack rambled on, but he was too busy thinking.

Too busy thinking until Jack cuffed him on the shoulder, that is, with a hand cold enough to make him yelp on contact.

“Ey, you’se been actin’ weird all day,” the other boy piped, earning a low, irritable little huff from Davey.

“I’m fine, Jack,” he intoned.

Another swat to the shoulder made him roll his eyes and shoot a glare in Jack’s direction.

“You’se not,” Jack insisted, “you’se been actin’ all funny ever since th’ sun went down. Scared ‘o gettin’ jumped?”

Why don’t you smell like anything?

Why am I worried about this?

What does it even matter?

Oh. That’s right. It doesn’t.

Davey made a noncommittal noise and shrugged as well as he was able. Yes, the sunset was making him antsy, but it wasn’t the darkness that was setting him off. After all, he could see just fine.

Apparently I can’t smell all that fine.

Turning his gaze to Jack with his eyes semi-narrowed, Davey offered a false smile. “Nah. I’ve got you as bait, haven’t I?”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “Why’s I th’ bait?” He asked, “you’se the one who can’t fight worth shit--”

“I’m faster.”

This time, Davey avoided the smack to his shoulder and gave a soft snort of a laugh. It wasn’t all that bad an end to a day that also, really wasn’t all that bad. The only real bummer was that he’d had to sell some paper about a freak series of attacks around Lower Manhattan, and it was really getting to some of the other boys. It was one of the few instances that Davey had really, really wished there hadn’t been a nice clear picture. An oozing, bitten wound on the side of someone’s neck really wasn’t something he’d wanted to see bright and early in the morning.

“Right, yeah,” Jack agreed, snapping him back into the present again, “’cos you’se faster and I tastes better, is that it?”

You probably don’t taste like anything.

Seeing as you don’t smell like anything.

Why was now the time he’d picked to notice Jack’s lack of scent?

Scrubbing a dirty hand across his face to mask a confused frown, Davey shrugged. “Wouldn’t know, Jack. Should I ask Katherine--”

Jack’s bag swung hard enough into Davey’s side to make the air leave his lungs in a startled, wheezing little gasp, though it quickly turned to a laugh when he caught sight of Jack’s almost offended expression.

“You know Kath an’ me ain’t--”

“Kath and I,” he corrected, automatically.

“Whatev’a. You knows we ain’t like that no more, yeah?”

He knew. He’d been the first to hear of the breakup, though, not from Jack. Instead, it had been from a pale-faced Katherine, who he didn’t see much of these days, just in passing glances. Whenever they met eyes, she was always quick to look away, though he didn’t know why.

“What,” Davey started, innocently eyeing him, “you don’t taste each other anymore?” He was already halfway ducking when he said it, and when Jack made to swing, Davey shot just far enough ahead of the other boy to cause his bag to swing into the nearest alley wall with an empty thump of fabric, just behind him.

“We nev’a did, ya ass!” Jack shouted after him, though there was no real malice in it. His voice had a laugh just beneath its surface, close enough to bubbling up through his words to make Davey’s lips twitch upward into a smile.

“How was I to know?” He shot back, turning to walk backward while grinning at Jack. “For all I know, you two are the ones going around biting people!”

He swore he saw Jack pale in that instant, though, it must’ve just been a trick of the light, the way his eyes had flickered with something close to fear before Davey blinked and it was all gone.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Dave,” Jack huffed, “watch yourself, or we’s gonna get ya next!”

With a playful shout, Jack leapt at him with his hands outstretched in false claws and his fangs--

His WHAT?

--his teeth, that was it-- bared in a snarl.

First my nose, now my eyes.

Swinging his hands up to stop Jack from crashing full into his front, Davey shook his head and gave the other boy a good shove in the chest. “Right, though I bet you’ll be doing the biting,” Davey said through a laugh.

“Ey, bett’a than that stupid-ass dog that the whole city’s been goin’ apeshit about. You’s gonna be lucky if ya’s bit by good ole reliable Jack Kelly!”

Davey swallowed. “Lucky?” He asked, trying to pull focus away from the way that Jack seemed almost eerily focused on him. “Why?”

“Oh, lot’sa reasons,” Jack explained. Striking a pose, the shorter boy shot Davey a look that could only be described as embarrassing. “Fer one, I’s handsome,” he began with a twitch of his brows.

Davey snorted. “Find a better reason.”

Jack brought a hand to his chest dramatically. “I’s crushed, David! You’se a real bastard, ya know that? I ain’t even given ya th’ best reason! That was jus’ a warm up!”

Turning on his heel, Davey shook his head, using it as an excuse to look skyward. No moon yet. None that he could see through the city smog, anyway, and it wasn’t supposed to be a full moon yet. Still... his skin was starting to itch, that animal inside him begging to be unleashed, and being in the alley with Jack was only making it plead with him in a louder, more convincing voice.

Davey shook it off. “Well, I don’t need to hear the rest--”

“I’s polite about it!”

He didn’t look up as Jack quickened his step to walk in time with him, bumping their shoulders together. “Really! I is! I’ll ask ya first an’ everythin’!”

A laugh escaped Davey at the almost offended tone snaking its way into Jack’s voice. “What, you just... come up and ask ‘hey, can I put my fangs in your neck?’” As he gave a laugh at the mental image, he heard Jack make a low, offended little noise beside him.

“Yeah-- well, not wit’ th’ fangs,” Jack corrected, “that’s a little too much, ain’t it?”

“Fangs?”

“Yeah. Feel like they’d make it ‘ard to talk.”

“Well...” Davey mused, stopping himself mid-step to look at Jack out of the corner of his eye. “Not like you’re talking all that well without them--”

“Ey!”

Again, Jack bared his teeth and lunged for Davey,and although Davey managed to catch his shoulders and stop Jack from slamming into him entirely, he felt his back connect with the alley wall.

Panting, sweat trickling down his forehead, Davey lolled his head back and gave a laugh. “What happened to asking first?” He prompted, though the joking edge to it had faltered, just for a moment, because there was something... different about Jack.

It was his eyes. Gleaming in the darkness in a way that Davey knew human eyes didn’t, and it was there in the way his lips twitched slightly and his jaw tensed, just enough to make him look like he was really considering it--

“I ain’t asked yet.” His hands didn’t move from Davey’s shoulders. It didn’t seem to matter that Davey was taller-- he’d slid far enough down the wall that they were practically at eye-level as Jack finally, finally shot him a grin. “Can I?”

He couldn’t explain his response. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to explain his response. It had been a joke at the time, though to Davey, it had seemed as though there had been an almost serious feeling hanging in the air above him. Locking eyes with Jack, Davey tipped his head back, exposing his neck completely. “Bite me, Kelly.” He breathed, though it quickly turned to a soft snicker.

It was the first time in a long time that Jack had ever gone silent in front of Davey. He wasn’t blushing, but in the darkness, it looked almost like he was trying to. His eyes were blown wide, trained, however, not on Davey but on his exposed throat. They looked almost hungry.

They’re not, Davey rationalized, because Jack isn’t actually going to bite anybody.

Adjusting how he was slumped against the wall for a split-second and looking into Jack’s eyes-- eyes that still weren’t focused on him-- Davey cocked his head. “Jack?”

That broke the spell. Jack’s hands fell from where they’d been on Davey’s shoulders, and when they were removed, it hit him just how hard Jack had been pressing against him. Hard enough that when Davey stumbled momentarily in an attempt to get back up to his full height, he felt a small twinge of discomfort across his shoulders.

Is it bruising?

Suddenly, it felt rather hard to breathe. With a hand that trembled and itched a tad, Davey loosened the collar of his shirt and watched without speaking as Jack stalked away from him.

He didn’t go far. He stopped a few feet ahead of Davey and brought his hands up to his face, and for a moment, Davey could’ve sworn that Jack was shaking.

Did... did I do something wrong?

Swallowing nervously, Davey inhaled and started after him, already trying to speak, but--

“How,” Jack began, calmy, “th’ FUCK did you know?”

The volume caught Davey off guard. His heart began to thrum heavily in his chest.

How did I...

An uncomfortable feeling settled across him as the figure of Jack heaved, still keeping his back turned to Davey in the darkness.

“H-How did I know what?” Davey stammered. It was all he could think to say. He had a feeling-- a squirming, writhing sort of feeling-- settling in his gut like a lead weight that told him he knew exactly what Jack was referring to.

But it couldn’t be right.

He stepped closer when Jack didn’t respond. “...Jackie?” He tried, the nickname earning him the noise of Jack taking a quivering, shaking breath.

“I’s tried so damn hard t’hide it,” Jack croaked, “I-- an’ you just comes into my life an’ you knows-- you-- you KNOWS! I ain’t told anyone-- I ain’t done nothin’ s’picious, I ain’t-- I goes out in th’ day like all the other boys, an’ I sells my papes an’ I don’t read too much into what’s on ‘em, I don’t-- I jokes about ‘em, fer fuck’s sake!”

Davey took another step closer to Jack, and hesitantly put his hand on the other newsie’s shoulder. “Jack. You-- slow down, what’re you so worked up about?” He asked, a desperate, pleading sort of lilt coming into his voice. “You-- you’re shaking like a leaf, you-- do you need to sit--”

And then Jack turned to face him. In the dim light of the alley, Davey could see something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Two somethings. A pair of sharp fangs curled out from behind Jack’s lips, and as Jack’s wide eyes met his own--

“I’m a vampire, Dave.”

The words came out in a rush, and once they were spoken, Davey’s ears started to ring, though not to a point where he couldn’t hear the noise of Jack choking on the air when he turned away.

“I-- I ain’t been th’ one bitin’ people, though, I’s not a-- I’s not some monster, and I don’t know-- I ain’t-- how--” Jack was starting to spiral. Davey could hear it in his voice. “--how did’ja just figure it out like that? That ain’t--”

He was cut off by Davey giving a sharp, disbelieving laugh. It was a small noise, really. More of a snort than anything, but by the time Jack turned around once more, fangs gleaming in the darkness, Davey had begun to shake with the force of his guffaws.

“Dave, this-- this ain’t a joke.” Jack sputtered, though when he opened his mouth to say more, Davey beat him to it.

“That’s why you don’t smell like anything,” he wheezed through a giggle, “and-- and that’s why you burn so easily in the sun, a-and--”

“Why I don’t smell?” Jack echoed. The look of confusion on his face was enough to send Davey over the edge.

He clutched at his stomach and stumbled back toward the alley’s brick wall, doubled over and cackling. “I-- I mean-- what’re the odds?” His voice was wobbling, though as he broke into another round of giggles, Jack made an exasperated noise.

“The odds of what? You’se really gonna lookit me an’ say vamps don’t exist? I’s got fangs, fer fuck’s sake, David!”

Davey shook his head. When he inhaled, it was shaky, and he threatened to break into a laugh with the air left in his lungs. “Jack,” he started, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, “it’s not that you’re bad at hiding it, it’s because I’m a lycanthrope.”

Jack’s confusion only seemed to grow. His brow furrowed, and although his words were a little slurred around the fangs, it was more than a little understandable. “Dave, I don’t gives a shit about yer religion, I wants to know why th’ fuck the way I smell was any clue!”

Davey lost it.

Gasping for air against laughter that bubbled up from his throat, he shook his head and put out a hand on the alley wall for balance. It wasn’t even that funny. As he wheezed and giggled almost hysterically to himself, he looked up at Jack with a wide, crooked grin. “It’s not a religion, Jackie. I’m a werewolf.”

There was a beat of silence before Jack’s eyes widened.

Davey managed to stifle his laughter as the other boy slowly, slowly began to slot the pieces together in his mind. He could practically hear the wheels in Jack’s head turning, probably squealing from years of misuse as they clicked and whirred until--

“Well, that would’a been nice to know.”

The laughter doubled in volume, now that two boys were in on it. It was nothing to laugh at-- vampirisim and lycanthropy weren’t exactly laughing matters-- but they didn’t care, because for the first time in a very, very long time, they’d let their secrets spill. It felt great.

Almost as great as when the pair scaled the fire escape to Jack’s rooftop penthouse, with the vampire in question still a little red in the face from his laughing. “So you’se-- you’se been sniffin’ me?”

“No! Just-- you notice things like that when you hang around people a lot. It’s why I figured out that you hung around Medda’s so much. Whole place smelled like you.”

As Davey hauled his way up onto the roof with help from a cold, strong grip, Jack frowned.

“Ey, I thought you said I didn’t smell.”

“Your clothes do,” Davey explained, “they smell like Medda’s.”

The night air was clear and crisp, now. It always seemed nicer up on the roof with the city far, far below them and the sky stretched out like a map above. It was one of the few times Davey could actually hear himself think. Having sensitive ears-- sensitive even for a were-- was tricky when you lived in Manhattan, where the city never seemed to quiet down, but...

Davey sighed, thoughtfully. “Never would’ve guessed the vampire thing,” he admitted, earning a shrug from Jack.

“Never would’a pinned ya as a wolf, though I guess that explains the sheddin’...”

The taller boy blushed. “I,” he stated, firmly, “do not--”

Jack jutted out his chin with a snicker. “Prove it, then.”

“How?”

That stumped him. Davey watched with an almost morbid fascination as Jack chewed on his lip with fangs he’d never noticed before.

They’re probably retractable.

Even now, his analytical mind was kicking into overdrive, putting together pieces from what he’d observed and realizing, with an odd sort of astonishment, that it had been fairly obvious. After all, he’d never seen Jack eat anything, and he was a little pale for a Manhattan newsie...

What does he even eat?

The answer was easily deduced, sure-- blood-- but where did he get it?

He didn’t bother asking Jack about it. Questions could come later, once the pair of them had figured out where they stood with the whole thing. It wasn’t as though Davey knew everything there was to know about being a werewolf. Keeping the conversation light seemed to be in his best interest, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Sitting on the roof in a spot usually occupied by Crutchie, Davey crossed his arms against the cold and waited for Jack to rebut him.

He didn’t need to wait long.

“Change,” Jack finally prompted with enough force and genuine command behind his voice that it caught Davey off guard.

His eyes widened a tad. “Here?”

“Why not? Nobody’s gonna see, an’ ‘sides, I wanna know if you’se really all as big an’ scary as wolves is s’posed to be.” There was no fear in Jack’s voice as he sat on the ledge of the roof, back toward the city and eyes expectantly on Davey, who shifted his weight under Jack’s gaze.

“I... I don’t know if that’s a good idea...” He tried, though it was met with a scoff.

“You seen my fangs, so I’d say it’s a good ole even trade. One fer one, hey?” Jack wheedled, leaning forward and baring his teeth as if to prove it.

Davey swallowed. “It’s not exactly the same. If you could turn into a bat, it’d be the same.”

“That’sa loada shit, Dave,”  Jack huffed, “I’s tried. Must be for them pureblood fuckers.” For a moment, Jack seemed to lose his train of thought, though he was quick to put his attention back on Davey. “But I wanna see! C’mon, only for a minute. It don’t hurt you, does it?”

Shrugging, Davey scuffed a foot against the roof. “A little. Just itches, mostly.”

“An’ ya don’t need a full moon?”

“That’s bullshit,” Davey admitted with a sigh.  

“Then get itchy, Jacobs!” Jack exclaimed.

Davey laughed, though it was a little strained sounding.

The roof would hold... and he’s not gonna let me off the hook for this one, is he?

A glance at Jack’s expression confirmed it. There was a childish light in his eyes, something eager and excited, like Les every Christmas when he’d wake up extra early and practically drag Davey down the stairs and into the living room. It was startlingly similar.

“...promise you won’t tell?” He finally asked.

Jack’s eyes gleamed. “Ey, ‘course I wouldn’t. You’se... you’se not th’ wolf attackin’ people though, right? You’se... you’se still you when ya change?”

Davey nodded. “I-- I’m still me,” he confirmed, already shakily getting to his feet, “th-though I usually do this alone. Could you... erm... could you turn--”

He didn’t need to finish the request. With a mock salute, Jack turned to face the city lights, leaving his back to Davey.

Right.

He actually wants me to do this.

There was something almost like excitement rising in Davey’s chest as he carefully shed his vest and cap, tucking them neatly away, though he couldn’t tell why. It wasn’t like he’d never shifted before.

“Don’t look--” He started to say.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack interrupted, “get itchy, whatev’a.”

A soft snort escaped Davey before he could stifle it.

Okay.

We’re doing this.

The animal under his skin twitched. It was disorienting, having it so close to the surface. He’d never forced a transformation before-- never had reason to-- but it couldn’t be all that hard, could it? He had to resist the urge to change most of the time, so... it would happen fast.

Right?

Okay.

He thought again, and with a nervous little breath, he let his eyes slide closed.

It all happened so much faster when he let it.

He barely had time to brace for the stinging sensation of fur prickling up across his body, and with a dull thump, he was brought to his knees under a new muscle weight his body wasn’t prepared for, and once he hit the ground--

He could feel his form changing-- claws pressing through where his fingers had been, his jaws elongating into a muzzle with a pain that was dull enough to go through silently-- and as his bones shifted and cracked into place, he struggled not to focus on the nauseating sensations of his internal organs shifting.

His breaths came quicker.

A canine tongue lolled past his sharp teeth.

His claws dug into the roof’s surface as he felt his vertebrae beginning to pop and click against each other in an elongated spine, and then with a searing, awful pain that made him give an animal little yelp--

A plumed tail thumped against the bricks.

Davey’s heart was beating a little too fast as he carefully, carefully stumbled a little ways away from Jack-- who was still standing with his back turned-- and tried to process how easily the shift had come. It hadn’t hurt like the last times-- not really-- it hadn’t--

“...Dave?”

His ears perked up at the familiar voice. His eyes-- wild and a little scared-- tracked to Jack’s shape.

Can I speak like this?

He’d never tried. He’d never had a reason to try. Inhaling, forcing himself to step closer with his claws skittering slightly on the roof, he looked down at Jack and gave a low rumble in the back of his throat. “...okay.” He breathed. It was raspy, sounding more like a bark than anything else, but it prompted Jack to spin around.

When his eyes met Jack’s, at first, he thought he saw fear there.

He couldn’t blame the other boy. He was huge. Huge and animal with teeth designed to bite and tear up prey before they could get a word in edgewise, and not to mention, his hulking shape was taking up a good amount of the rooftop. Thick fur covered him from head to toe, and although it had a bit of curl to it, it was murky looking, patchy around his shoulders and down his back.

His ears pinned back. His tail tucked between his legs.

“...Jackie?” He tried, inwardly cringing at the rough, grating tone escaping his lips.

Jack’s face lit up.

Before Davey could do so much as flinch, a pair of cold, careful hands were on the sides of his shaggy head. “Holy shit! An’ t’think all this time I thought you was a weakling,” Jack exclaimed, already grinning from ear to ear in a way that made his fangs pop out. “You’s fuckin’ huge! Jesus, is all wolves this big? Do you know?”

Already, he was creeping closer.

Davey slumped into a sitting position and tried to shrug. Moving slowly, as not to scare the other boy, Davey laid himself down in a mess of matted, brown fur and let his head rest atop his enormous, clumsy looking paws.

Jack looked like he was going to implode. Davey could practically hear the questions Jack wasn’t asking as the other boy looked him over, striding closer by the second. “I-- you’se-- wow, Dave, this-- this is somethin’,” Jack praised.

Davey’s tail wagged in response.

“And...” The vampire drawled with an almost smug smile. As he spoke, he let his hand press against Davey’s side and come downward in a gentle, petting motion. “You does shed.”

Davey didn’t remember much of the rest of the night. He remembered trying to speak and getting laughed at. He remembered the soft noises of the boys in the lodgehouse below them stirring in the night. He remembered the feeling of Jack’s cold hands tracing patterns against the fur on his side.

But what he remembered best was falling asleep, wrapped around the cold shape of Jack Kelly, and wondering if the other boy was warm.

[valdez-and-the-argo-crew]

God!Percy fic ch.4

Previous chapter: https://valdez-and-the-argo-crew.tumblr.com/post/190922626186/godpercy-fic-ch-3

Percy, once again, you might destroy Olympus! How do you feel?

I gotta be honest, now I understand why gods hate mortals.

Oh yeah and also it might be Jamie, not me, so...yay?

Chiron had gathered me, Jamie, Grover and Rachel in the Big House to discuss the new prophecy. Annabeth invited herself and was sitting on the arm of the couch next to me.

“The prophecy didn’t tell us anything about the quest, how are we supposed to know where we are going to go and what’s the whole point of the quest!” Annabeth began rambling. “I know prophecies are usually vague but still, this is just...” she shook her head.

“Hey Owl Head,” I said, nudging her arm. “This isn’t your quest, don’t get so worked up.”

Annabeth punched me in the shoulder, but still visibly relaxed. I looked over at Rachel, who was talking quietly to herself.

“Is that all we have on the prophecy? No instruction manual?” I asked. She shook her head.

“That’s it, unfortunately.” She sighed.

Chiron (now in his wheelchair) rolled up to us. “I’m afraid I know where your quest is taking you.” He looked at Grover, who looked confused and then seemed to come to some sort of realization.

“Nico’s accident...” Grover said. That got my attention quick.

“Wait what? Nico’s accident?” I said. I hadn’t heard anything on the son of Hades in a while, probably over a year.

“Who’s Nico?” Asked Jamie from the small chair beside the couch. I’d forgotten that not all of us were seasoned end-of-the-world heroes.

“Nico is the son of Hades, the god of the underworld.” Annabeth explained. “He’s a little bit of a loner so he’s not always here at camp.”

“But back to the whole ‘accident part’...” I said, turning to Grover. “Explain.”

“Well just recently, Hades had Nico go check up on the doors of death, which is what let’s monsters back into this world. But the thing is the doors are in Tartarus, so—“

“Hades let Nico go to Tartarus alone?” Annabeth interjected. “Is he crazy!”

“Some say,” Chiron said under his breath.

“Nico was able to handle himself, however as he didn’t see a few spirits slip by. Arai, I believe they were.” Grover said. “And now they’re rampant somewhere in America.”

Jamie was looking back and forth between all of us, visibly confused.

“So... Jamie and I need to return really bad spirits to the underworld? Doesn’t sound like the cause of Olympus to fall...” I shrugged.

“Don’t underestimate the Arai Percy. They’re really tricky things to deal with.” Annabeth said.

Rachel cleared her throat. “Who all is going on this quest? I mean other than those two,” she gestured at me and Jamie.

“Annabeth, obviously.” I said right away. She was the natural choice. She was smart and clever and the only person I’d want at my side while fighting spirits from Tartarus.

“Slow down. I may not be best for this. The Arai reveal ugly truths, and knowing Pride is my greatest fault, I feel like that could end disastrously.” Annabeth said. “Sorry.”

“It’s chill. What about you, G-Man?” I looked at Grover, who bleated and shook his head.

“No way, I told Juniper I wouldn’t die this summer.” He said. “Besides, I have to do Lord-of-the-Wild things.”

“Wow thanks.” I laughed. “Guess it’s just you and me Jamie.”

“I’m still confused...” Jamie mumbled.

Chiron chuckled. “I’ll fill you in. Percy it might be in your best interest to go prepare for the quest.”

The meeting adjourned and I headed back to my cabin, my head swimming with thoughts. I started to get a bit annoyed at the prophecy. Why me again. Like one time, sure, but two times is frustrating.

I sighed and flopped on my bunk. Stupid fate.

There was a knock on the door and before I could react, Annabeth let herself in.

“Wrong cabin. The smartass cabin is that way,” I smiled and pointed lazily in some random direction.

“Oh shut up fish face.” Annabeth said and sat down on the trunk beside my bed. I propped myself up so I could see her.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Can I not just have a moment alone with my best friend?” She laughed. I examined her face and could tell she was worried.

“Seriously. What’s wrong?” I asked her. She hesitated for a second and sighed.

“It just... we’re adults now Percy. I mean, I am. You’re...immortal.” She frowned a bit, because she still has issues with that face of life. “I don’t like how you’re the subject of a prophecy again. Like I’d understand if it was Jamie, but... “ she shook her head. “I don’t even know why I’m worried, it’s not like you can die or anything.”

“I get what you mean. Frankly I’m quite annoyed too. I already went through this 10 years ago.” I said. Annabeth smiled a bit at that.

It’s funny how we find comfort in our memories of that war. We lost so much, and got hurt in more than one way but we were just so...together that it didn’t matter.

We were silent for a moment.

“I’m tired Percy.” Annabeth said. “All I’ve done in the past 10 years is train. Whether here or with the Romans, all I do is drills over and over.” She looked at me. “And even though we see each other every summer...Its all different. You haven’t been you in so long.”

I didn’t know what to say to this. I didn’t think I was any different than I had been, but the fact that Annabeth thought I was made me think.

“I’m sorry to suddenly go all emotional on you like that.” Annabeth said. “I know it’s not like me but I’ve been holding all that in for a while.”

“It’s fine, Wise Girl.” I smiled. She laughed, which instantly lightened the mood. I laughed along with her for a minute.

“I think I know how to cheer you up.” I said.

“Oh yeah? How so.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“Well it’s Friday, is it not? And after dinner is—“

“—Is capture the flag!” She smiled wide. “Oh it is so on Jackson. And no cheating by being all godly or whatever.”

“Cheating? Do you really think that low of me, Chase?”

“I never know what to think of you. But just know that you don’t stand a chance.”

I threw a pillow at her. She gasped and threw one of my shoes from the floor. I rolled my eyes.

“Ow!” I whined.

“That’s what you get.” She smirked.

I crossed my arms and pouted.

“Oh grow up,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. “You probably still need to pack for your quest, so I’ll leave you to that. See you at dinner seaweed brain.”

And with that Percy was alone again.

Dinner came and went, and so did the game of Capture the flag. Annabeth won by catching Percy off guard and having some Demeter kid go grab the flag. Now Percy was doing his cabin chore (organizing the armor racks) with Jamie.

“You’ve been quiet, kid, are you okay?” Percy looked at the young boy.

“I’m fine,” Jamie smiled. “Its just...Chiron told me people get hurt on quests. I’m kinda scared.”

I finished racking helmets and sighed. “Yeah, people can get hurt. And it is very scary, especially because you’re only 6.” I looked down at him. He was struggling to put a chest plate back in its place. “But I promise nothing is going to hurt you on this quest, okay?”

He nodded and I helped him secure the heavy armor in its proper place. Looking around, I see that all that’s left to do is to put the shields away. Jamie trudged over and grabbed one, lifting it up and walking over to the shield rack.

“Jamie you can set that down, I got this.” I said. With a mere flick of my wrist, the shields all slid nicely into place. Jamie’s jaw dropped.

“How did you do that!”

“Let’s walk back to the cabin.” I said. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

As we walked I explained that I was a minor god. I told him the story of the titan war we fought, and when we reached our cabin, I told him how hardly anybody here knows. I figured that since he is my brother, and that we’re going on a quest tomorrow, he had the right to know.

The night flew by, and all too quickly it was time to set off on our quest. Jamie was noticeably nervous, as he was biting his nails and picking at a loose thread on his shirt. We both had backpacks with food, money (both mortal and Greek), hygiene stuff, and other quest necessities.

“You sure you’re ready?” I asked Jamie. He nodded silently.

“Don’t think you’re leaving without saying goodbye,” said Annabeth from behind. I turn around and see her and Grover have come to see us off.

“It’s lot like we’re gonna die, it’s just going to be a quick quest.” I said.

“Is it though?” Annabeth said.

“You’re uncharacteristically worrisome lately,” I said. “I miss the Annabeth that would face Hera and walk backwards into the underworld.” She rolled her eyes.

“Stay safe you two,” Grover said. “And in case you needed some direction, last I heard the Arai are in Nevada, but they’re traveling east.” He said. “They’re easy enough to track if you know what to look for in mortal headlines.”

“Thanks man.” I said and gave him a fist bump. I turned to Jamie. “Ready?”

“No. Lets go.” He said.

“Percy, one last thing...” Annabeth said. I turn around, only to be met with a kiss on the cheek. “Please stay yourself.”

I got to be honest, I had absolutely no clue what she meant by that.

Regardless, Jamie and I set out, going past the camp’s borders and officially starting our quest.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 244: Have You Read This Book

Previously on BnHA: Deku visited his mom on New Year’s Eve and was all “here’s a new letter from my ever-expanding fanclub of adorable preschoolers whom I saved from trauma” and Inko was all, “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU IZUKU I FEEL LIKE I DON’T HAVE TO PROTECT YOU ANYMORE” because she doesn’t watch the news at all or keep track of ominous plot developments I guess. The next morning, a.k.a. New Year’s Fucking Day, while other kids their age visited shrines or sat at home watching TV, Izuku, Shouto, and Katsuki were bussed off to go be child soldiers at Endeavor’s hero agency. Katsuki was all “HEY ENDEAVOR YOU’RE KIND OF A DICK,” and Endeavor was all “SHOUTO IS THIS VULGAR AND PUGNACIOUS YOUTH REALLY YOUR FRIEND” and Shouto was all “TOO LATE DAD, YOU SAID!!” and Endeavor hmmphed and booked it out of there and the kids all followed him and there was this old dude with a beard floating around screaming about END TIMES!! and Hawks was there and, what?? Seriously does anyone actually know what’s going on?

Today on BnHA: Endeavor chases down the old man (who may in fact be an actual prophet, though? Horikoshi what games are you playing) and sets him on fire and tackles him and it’s all very violent. Hawks then appears out of nowhere and breaks up BakuDeku’s tag team effort all “SAVE IT FOR THE MOVIE YOU TWO!” and is then all “hi Shouto” and “hi, you must be Midoriya, Tokoyami told me all about you, I wanted to work with you too, BUT -- [stares off angstily into the distance].” Then, because I forgot that Hawks never shuts up, he’s all, “Hey Endeavor have you ever heard of this book, ‘Paranormal Liberation Front’? Don’t let the really dumb-sounding title put you off, it’s actually a rousing tale full of hidden clues about all the bullshit I’m actually up to. I highlighted the relevant portions if you can’t be assed to read it, well anyways, Hail Hydra.” “Well that was a strange conversation,” Endeavor thinks to himself as he stares uncomprehendingly into the void. Sob someone please help them why are they so bad at this oh god.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so thanks to that little stunt Horikoshi pulled two weeks ago, our chances of finding out Bakugou’s hero name any time within the next dozen chapters are slimmer than ever. probably he’ll reveal it at the end of the arc instead. it’s like he doesn’t even care about the databook. whatever I’ll have plenty of time to sulk more about it after I get to readin’

anyway the title of the new chapter is “Recommendation”, so... actually that does sound fairly promising, though? am I just eternally doomed to get my hopes up? is this referring to Shouto pestering his dad to take on his two best friends as fellow interns? what’s going on here

anyway so we’re opening with this

I love that it’s the two supposed goody-two-shoes kids who are actually being vocal about blatantly disregarding Endeavor’s orders. Shouto is just not having it to begin with, whereas Deku at least is trying to rationalize his own reckless behavior. Katsuki meanwhile is too focused on doing this fancy kick move to switch his suitcase from his left hand to his right to bother talking right now. reminds me of him playing with the soccer ball as a youngling

also the fact that his case is number 17 and Deku’s is number 18. have I talked about this before? I think I have but it was with some other numbered thing. anyways love the symbolism of him trying to stay one step ahead of him and Deku always being right on his heels. or maybe I’m reading too much into it but anyways rivals, yay

damn Endeavor is really determined to get ahead of them though

uh oh Horikoshi how much action did you pack into this chapter. starting to run out of time to finish all your panels again huh. you had a whole extra week! how fucking insane is this arc going to be holy shit

anyways Endeavor way to leave your brand new interns behind minutes after meeting them for the first time smdh. this is exactly how it went down with Hawks and Tokoyami

okay so like, I know a flash fire is an actual thing, but for a second I started wondering if in this kind of context (with him speeding off), it might also be a reference to the DC hero. then I remembered that the name of Endeavor’s technique is different in Japanese and the pun probably doesn’t translate. ah well

anyways dude is fast. but I wouldn’t count the kids out yet, they’re all pretty fast too!

so now we’re back downtown with Old Man Doom And Gloom, and oddly enough it seems that this isn’t actually an out-of-the-ordinary occurrence?

fucking quirk society. you guys are just so desensitized to the most bizarre fucking things. but I guess we in the 21st century are hardly ones to talk ourselves sigh

anyway now he’s being a bit more extra than usual and they’re starting to worry

?? the fuck is that? that sure as hell isn’t Hawks or Endeavor lmao. IF IT’S SLIDIN’ GO I SWEAR TO GOD

or wait, is it still the old man talking? should I actually be paying attention to his ramblings, my bad

is that a fucking Spirit Bomb

(ETA: in truth this is the most badass attack name that has ever existed or will ever exist and I should give it its proper due actually.)

so now I guess he’s hurtling it at them??

...hold up one sec

“revelations from the universe, I have received. flee, flee good citizens. the Dark Lord’s lips curl into a wicked crescent” -- holy shit, this all tracks?? IS THIS DOOMSDAY CRACKPOT MOTHERFUCKER ACTUALLY RIGHT ON THE FUCKING MONEY HOLY SHIT. ARE YOU A WITCH GOOD SIR. DID YOU WRITE A BOOK OF HIGHLY ACCURATE AND DEVASTATINGLY WITTY PROPHECIES BY ANY CHANCE

“the end is nigh! the wicked stars are conspiring against us! we must stop them! the earth is on the verge of being engulfed by darkness! flee, my fellow citizens! I am the one who shall destroy this source of darkness! be revealed! servants of the dark lord, come forth!”

okay listen. if he’s aiming this fucking thing at Hawks, though, after a speech like that? fuck it, I’m a believer. I’m sorry old man, I wrote you off without a second thought and here you are being the only one who’s actually like “HELLO!!!? PEOPLE!!!? THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS!!?! THEY HAVE AN ARMY!!? AND NOUMUS!??! FUUUUUUUUCK”

and I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but those are some legit-ass universe revelations. fucking even talks about the “Dark Lord” specifically only describing his lips. because he doesn’t have anything else to describe nowadays, face-wise. shit that is spooky

anyway so that sure was unexpected. let’s see what shenanigans Master Roshi here is gonna get himself into next

did my boy just get fucking flashfired. jesus Endeavor show some fucking mercy

...

someone want to explain to this man the concept of a proportionate response? anyone? ...

fucking Todorokis I swear to god. if they weren’t all so good at being amazing superheroes, they could easily fall back on a career of being dramatic bitches for hire instead

anyways when did Endeavor change his clothes. this dude was wearing a turtleneck and slacks thirty seconds ago. did he literally just burn them off. how. what. fucking plot holes left and right

lol imagine if like on the next page the interns finally catch up and they’re like holding his fucking jacket and looking peeved

-- holy fucking shit, Endeavor

not cool, dude!! what the fuck. this isn’t a fucking Noumu for fuck’s sake THAT IS A HUMAN PERSON

(ETA: I guess he ended up being okay, but shit, for a moment it looked like we were going full blown Raiders of the Lost Ark over here. anyways the moral of this story is that Endeavor is terrifying, fuck.)

so now of course Nostradamus is trying to get the fuck out of there, because if he sticks around Endeavor apparently has no qualms about burning him alive. fuck me Endeavor, I’m still rooting for your redemption arc my dude, but tbh if Dabi happens to pop up out of nowhere here looking for some revenge I’m not gonna say no to it right now. quit burning people alive!!

so now 12/21/2012 is zooming down an alley and Endeavor is zooming after him and telling some extra with a sword to stay and lead the evacuation

oh??

Endeavor have you flown yourself right into a trap?

oh my god what the fuck is this

it’s like Dabi VS the Liberation Army all over again. fucking check all these motherfuckers who apparently want to get themselves deep fried. this one guy really thinks he’s going to clock the Number One with a piece of fucking PVC pipe

LMAOOOOO

LOOKS LIKE WE GOT OURSELVES A RUCKUS, BOYS! you better believe I have the Powerpuff Girls theme song playing in my head right now

-- !!!

HAWKS!! I WAS STARTING TO WONDER IF YOU REALLY WERE THERE TOO OR IF THE PANELS IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER WERE DELIBERATELY MISLEADING

LOOOOOOL

pour one out for these poor sobs who somehow got themselves caught up in an accidental pincer attack between the dynamic fucking duo and fucking Angry Bird here. where the fuck is Shouto btw. or is he the one that got stuck carrying Endeavor’s jacket

loool look at Hawks out here making friends

SURPRISE BITCH

oh my god though you guys look at this??

HELLO SURPRISE NEW FAVORITE SERIES OF PANELS, CAN I JUST TAKE A MOMENT TO LOVE ON YOU A BIT HERE, BECAUSE

1. Bakugou and Deku IN PERFECT SYNC, not even thinking about it. just effortless. that was an amazing tag team thing you guys had going on before SOMEONE stepped in and ruined it all omg. do you want me to talk to Hawks for you. I’ve been meaning to discuss some other things with him anyway so it’s not like it’d be going out of my way. can you believe this fucking pigeon blocked my number. WHERE IS JEANIST YOU BASTARD

anyways 2. “I thought Endeavor might have been in a tough spot” that’s a funny way of saying “I was lonely and missed my angry arson dad”! and fucking look at this ridiculous bantering between them. “did it look like I was in a tough spot?” I FUCKING CAN’T YOU GUYS PLEASE STOP

and 3. Shouto just watching. is he impressed by his dad? or just trying to figure out whether Hawks is his dad’s adopted son or boyfriend. I’m pretty sure it’s the former, Shouto, but I don’t blame you for being confused, Hawks just has that kind of energy with everyone

oh my god

somebody arrest this man. I can’t fucking deal with your cheeky fucking face Hawks

is Skeptic getting all of this?? are they sitting there with bowls of popcorn back at the League of Pliff HQ trying to figure out whether Endeavor and Hawks are dating

...and shit, I just realized the League officially knows now that the disaster trio is interning with the number one. so that’s fucking great. not that it would have been a secret for long, but still, things are officially starting to get real. in hindsight, after the Kamino arc we had a nice long stretch of chapters in which Deku, Kacchan, and Shouto were not in immediate danger from the main fucking villains, so that was nice while it lasted I guess. those days will soon be behind us

ahhhklkljkl

fucking shit Hawks could you be any more ominous. oh my god this arc really is going to kill me

so now we’re cutting away to somewhere. Pliff?

-- oh, nope, still in the same place, we just fast-forwarded to the part where the police came to haul all the bad guys away

and now the manga is being all clever and foreshadowing-y and would you look at this

BUT IS HE TALKING ABOUT ENDEAVOR, OR HAWKS omg. or hell, he could even be talking about Deku. or AFO even though he’s not actually there. point is, you know he’s not actually wrong. but what is he actually trying to tell us ahhhhhh Servant of the Stars please reveal your secrets

(ETA: in all seriousness you guys, I’m fully down for counting this as a prophecy. it’s already canon that future-seeing quirks are a thing, so. the only problem is that this is some Game of Thrones-level ambiguity as far as who he’s actually talking about. it seriously could be anyone. anyways at least we’ve got some shiny new theory material to play around with here so that’s nice.)

LMAO

HAWKS YOU BASTARD, JUST LIKE THAT I’VE FORGIVEN YOU FOR THE FUCKING JEANOCIDE

how does every single person Deku meets not greet him this way?? I sure as hell would. “well if it isn’t the kid who just. fuckin blew up his own hands on live television, multiple times. salutations”

anyways where’s Katsuki, the boy whose previous hero mentor you murdered in cold blood but he doesn’t actually know that yet. when are we gonna start in on that?

Hawks says he’s heard about Deku from Tokoyami. and he even says he would have liked to work with Deku too, wow. that’s high praise

ffffff here it comes, THAT GOOD HAWKS ANGST. WE WERE WAITING FOR THIS BUT IT’S STILL BRUTAL GAH

is this entire arc just going to consist of Hawks saying cryptic things with double meanings known only to him and then glancing sideways at the camera all broodingly omg

AH, THERE HE IS

Katsuki’s natural instinct to dislike 100% of newcomers on sight might work out to his advantage here. Hawks’s maxed-out Charisma stats VS Katsuki’s middling Perception stats which nonetheless have a tendency to land high whenever he performs an ability check! I might need to back off from this metaphor though before it becomes really obvious that I don’t actually play D&D

lol

omg Endeavor can’t a guy just drop in on his grumpy pal out of the blue to make sure he’s doing okay without having some sort of ulterior motive? why are you so sure that Hawks showing up means that plot must be happening. because you’re not wrong, is the thing. but he’s probably just being standoffish for show

holy shit and now Hawks is just pulling out the Liberation Army’s book just like that?? IS HE ALLOWED TO DO THAT

(ETA: “let’s see, what’s a subtle way I can try and clue Endeavor in on the fact that I’ve become an undercover agent in the Paranormal Villain League of Liberation Front Armies. ... ...shit I’m not good at this.”)

and since when was this book called “Paranormal Liberation Front”?? did they change the title to match the new name?

and what’s Hawks’s game here, though? is he going to play it as though he’s secretly investigating Pliff? you know, like he actually is doing? is this some kind of hiding in plain sight thing or what

guys. is Hawks just... actually really bad at being a secret agent. omg

so he’s all “DESTRO’S IDEALS ARE EVERYTHING WE COULD ASK FOR” and lol what. fucking look at Endeavor’s face though

this motherfucker could use a boost of his own wisdom stats, fff

(ETA: swear to god he’s two seconds away from a Katsuki-style “hah?!”)

oh my god

fucking fuck me. he better have highlighted a really obvious section of that book, because otherwise I’m not gonna hold out hope for this message getting across at all. at least we know what that “recommendation” title was referring to now I guess

(ETA: Endeavor: [reading the highlighted section backwards] “‘‘it’s fun to smoke marijuana’!? what in the --”)

loooool

the fate of the world now rests upon Endeavor’s abilities to See Underneath The Underneath and somehow decipher that when Hawks says, “ENDEAVOR I CHASED YOU DOWN IN ORDER TO GIVE YOU A COPY OF THIS BOOK THE VILLAINS WROTE, I THINK IT’S REALLY KEEN AND YOU SHOULD CHECK IT OUT”, what he’s really saying is, “ENDEAVOR I NEED YOU TO INVESTIGATE THIS SUSPICIOUS ‘LIBERATION FRONT’ THAT’S BEEN COINCIDENTALLY GATHERING A LOT OF ATTENTION SINCE THAT SHADY INCIDENT IN DEIKA CITY WHERE ‘TWENTY GUYS' BASICALLY DESTROYED AN ENTIRE TOWN. IF YOU’RE TOO DENSE TO PICK UP ON ANY OF THAT, I HIGHLIGHTED THE RELEVANT PORTION OF THE BOOK SO HOPEFULLY EVEN AN OBLIVIOUS DUMBBELL LIKE YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT.” jesus christ

at least Endeavor now has some nerdy interns who fucking love to read. hell, Deku has probably already read the book. please help this dumb jock to understand his bird son’s coded message, Deku-Wan Kenobi, you’re our only hope

and that’s the end of the chapter! except that I heard there was a new poster for Heroes Rising that was released as well! how come it wasn’t included here now I have to go hunt it down

son of a bitch is this really the best quality that’s available? damn

well all right. not really much going on here that’s a big revelation or anything, aside from the surprise inclusion of Hawks in the upper right hand corner. did we know he was going to be in this? and like, even if the anime does make it as far as his debut in season 4, will it have reached that point by the time the movie premieres in December? glad I caught up beforehand if they’re gonna start spoiling things like this

so that’s all she wrote for this week! databook is due out next week so that should be fun! we’re finally going to get Hawks’s real name from what I understand. so I can start yelling at him using his full name like a disappointed mom. I have a feeling that’s going to come in handy a lot during this arc. go to your room young man

(ETA: and just watch it be the Japanese equivalent of “Judas McMurder” or some shit. smh. y’all. we stan a shady bitch.)

[mmmmalo]

This appears to be the murder weapon. Looks like English was the trigger man, then ditched the weapon by the body for some reason. You've never seen the guy, but you heard he carries a big overpowered gold machine gun. Pretty garish in your view. The man has no subtlety whatsoever. You and he sure have different styles when it comes to running an organized crime outfit. You honestly think he might be some sort of huge manchild. And I honestly think you might be right.

Rambling.

There was something melancholy about the tone on that last line, like avatar!Hussie wasn’t so much admonishing Lord English but himself? Calling himself a manchild... in which case the mysterious presence of Lord English’s gun would be explained by (the dead horse winces) suicide, like Lord English was a phantom vehicle of the self-slaughter of the author. After all, the set up is that Caliborn is killing a fascimile of Calliope, the voice at the back of his brain: killing the author (whose narrative also haunts his skull) was already like killing his counterpart -- but since that counterpart is an alienated aspect of himself, killing Calliope nonetheless qualifies as suicide?

Precedent for this sort of thing would be when a young Jade, in the process of shooting herself, instead fires at Grandpa who is seated across from a blue doll. The murder unveils the psychological structure of the suicide attempt: Jade is striking at God, whose breath animates the unconsenting dead... and curiously enough, Jade would later mistake this event for Grandpa’s suicide? Hm

...Hussie’s (presumptive) “suicide” also involves a literal attempt to bestow life upon a (dead) blue girl? The rings he tries to give to Vriska replaces the cake between Grandpa and the doll... Vriska and Jade both reject the gesture, violently. There’s not much linking them beyond structural similarities, in this scene at least. Before LE hunts Hussie, there a scene of PM chasing Bec Noir, but without any notion of what their conflict means for Jade (who ultimately confronts them) I couldn’t say... unless (the dead horse whimpers pitifully) the collision of black/white versions of the same figure already represents self-negation? In which case PM’s justice upon Jack is the same as Terezi’s modus operandi, a death delivered upon the self? So Jade forestalling their collision in Collide seems consistent with her newfound commitment to staying awake... but I don’t what to make of PM’s triumph then, which knocks out both Jade and Jack without killing either... something to keep an eye on.

Anyway, I went back to the scene where Hussie is nursing Spades Slick back to health (shortly before LE’s arrival) to see if I could find anything relevant. The scene that follows (and which we can thus presume to be linked thematically) is Karkat arguing with himself. Here’s an interesting snippet of that:

What a curious exchange to interlace with LE getting ready to kill the ghost of his sister (ie kill the author/himself)! I think “type in red” can here be safely replaced with “bleed”, hence the reference to a martyr. They squabble over the proper attitude to take towards bleeding -- but “bite the bullet and talk in red” speaks to (the dead horse sheds a single tear) suicide. Translation would be “shoot myself and bleed”, which Karkat motions to as a mark of maturity -- which draws my attention back to the “manchild” comment looming over the discovery of Hussie’s corpse beside Lord English’s weapon. “Growing up” is linked (by Karkat) to a willingness to sacrifice oneself to greater good, and more generally to accepting (or even embracing?) death...

Which I guess was already implicit with all the immortal ghost teenagers, but its weird seeing it applied that way...

I START TO WONDER, DOES DEATH EVEN REALLY MEAN ANYTHING

DID LIFE MEAN ANYTHING, FOR THAT MATTER??

WAS THE POINT OF LIFE TO JUST GO AROUND COLLECTING A BUNCH OF PAINFUL AND AWKWARD EXPERIENCES TO SUPPLY MATERIAL FOR THE REVOLVING MEMORY-COLLAGE THAT SERVES AS THE BACKDROP TO A MUCH LONGER, EMPTIER STRETCH OF EXISTENCE?

Yeesh. It’s funny how Karkat’s conversations presents this structure in miniature: he keeps having the relive his own embarrassing conversation as the opposite participant. Not quite the same as viewing alt-lives I guess, but pretty close

Karkat has a pot of gold sitting in the background of this scene. I’ve hoped it would help explain his connection to Lord English (who has leprechauns in his employ, whose romance is Lucky Charms), but tbh its striking me as Wizard of Oz imagery at the moment. The early bits of the movie seemed fixated on Dorothy’s death drive (x), such that her musical ponderings about a transcendant beyond can come across as somewhat morbid: SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW // I THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE A POT OF GOLD // BUT INSTEAD...

Oh... since Caliborn describes the text as “RAINBOW FREEFALLS OF FRIVOLOuS BANTER”, English is literally the rainbow huh. That connects the death and language readings nicely... walls to some nebulous beyond. Should... should I read Dirk’s love of Rainbow Dash as a Lord English connection

[saiilorstars]

Stinging

One Shot//Companion to The Beginning of Everything

**Fandom: **Doctor Who

Pairing: Female OC x 10th Doctor

(OC Face claim: Marjorie de Sousa)

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

A/N: This literally happened because I got stung by a bee today at work and I would’ve really liked for there to be a Doctor around. I don’t even know if best actually affect Time Lords but we’re going to say they do in this world!

Summary: A serene trip turns ugly when a foul little creature makes its presence known.

"This is all lovely but don't you think we should allow Donna a chance to rest?" Renata's concern did nothing to persuade the Doctor to gather up their newest companion and return to the TARDIS.

"No, she's just fine," he reassured Renata and watched Donna walk up to a small bridge connecting the beautiful garden they were visiting.

"She hasn't slept in 2 days," Renata pointed out. "Correct me if I'm wrong but humans need to sleep everyday."

"Quite right, but you see when people first come aboard the TARDIS, they sort of run on the adrenaline for a few days. Even if I _did _tell Donna to take a nap, she wouldn't do it."

"But she really needs to sleep. It's not healthy. Her mind isn't as alert as she would be if she was getting a night's rest."

"Which is why I specifically chose this calm retreat for today," the Doctor gestured to the serene garden around them.

Renata could commend the Doctor for his subtle thinking. _He's done this so many times, _she reminded herself. He knew what he was doing when it came to the companions, _she _did not. "I'm sorry," she apologized a few minutes later.

The Doctor didn't seem very upset. He was smiling like he usually did. "I know how these first days go, Ren. I didn't want to bring Donna somewhere that could turn out to be dangerous. Actually, I think this is the perfect place to inspire Donna to take some rest. Wouldn't you agree?"

Renata only had to look around for two seconds before nodding her head. The garden was part of a luxurious retreat for people in need of serenity for whatever reason. There was no technology allowed for the visitors. Not even a television. The retreat was a nine-story building where the first five floors were dedicated to a treatment for the soul. The rest of the four floors were the guests' bedrooms. The only reason the Doctor's TARDIS had been accepted was because apparently, they owed him.

He had helped save the place at one point, Renata learned. She wasn't remotely surprised.

She honestly loved the garden. It was huge. It seemed almost endless. The grass was a mushy green that just begged for visitors to take off their shoes and let their feet feel the ground. Renata was tempted but that was just inappropriate (she firmly believed it). There were various areas that allowed visitors to have their own mini-gardens to tend to.

"Yeah, you're right. This place is lovely," Renata sighed with content. If only all their trips could be like this...

The Doctor would've died of boredom, she was sure. With a smile, she headed for the bridge that Donna had stopped by.

"Those fishes look like ghosts," Donna remarked when the Time Lady came to a stop beside her. Renata peered over the bridge to see white translucent fishes gliding through the water. Donna suddenly gasped, making Renata think something had happened in the one minute she'd gazed into the lake. "Do they have ghost fishes in space!?"

Renata's face fell flat at the question. She turned her head to the Doctor, making a gesture behind her. The Doctor had to laugh.

"Yeah, those questions happen too," he said, making Donna wonder if they were having some sort of freaky alien conversation in their heads. The Doctor did mention he had that ability and since he had it, Donna was sure that Renata had it as well.

"Donna," Renata turned to the ginger, "There are no such thing as 'ghost fishes'."

"Well," Donna folded her arms, huffing in embarrassment. "How was I supposed to know? I'm brand new at this!"

Renata playfully rolled her eyes. That was fair.

"So Donna, how do you like this place?" the Doctor moved to stand on Donna's other side, leaving her in the middle of the Time Lords.

"It's really nice," Donna nodded, forgetting all about her momentary mistake. "Although the whole 'no cellphones' thing could be revisited."

"The whole point of this place is for people to disconnect," the Doctor reminded her. "Sometime that's what everybody needs."

"Yeah, you ever disconnect from the world?"

Renata startled them with a snort. "What do you think happens when he starts rambling on to himself? Completely forgets anyone else is in the room."

Donna laughed. "Right!"

The Doctor shot Renata a mock-glare that the Time Lady didn't notice. She was busy watching the ghost fishes swim. "I like to talk a lot. Sue me."

"If I did sue you it wouldn't be for your mouth, it'd be for the ridiculous situations you get me into."

"Ah!" he groaned and looked away in exasperation.

"Don't start you two," Donna pointed two playing fingers at them. It was ridiculous how they could start bickering over the smallest of things...but it was also kind of funny sometimes.

"I didn't say anything -- AH!" Renata's hand slapped her right shoulder so hard that it made both Donna and the Doctor flinch. "What the hell was that!?"

"Did she just curse?" Donna blinked at the Time Lady, completely oblivious to Renata's clear distress over her shoulder. "I didn't know she did that!"

The Doctor had sprung into action and rushed to Renata's side. "What happened? Let me see!" Renata's hand was already moving off her shoulder when he pushed it away himself. "Oh..." There was a small orange bug sitting on her shoulder -- a part of its bottom stabbing her skin.

"Oh? What is that?" Renata gritted her teeth at the nasty creature.

"Uh, well...it's, um...sort of the equivalent of a bee..."

"A bee!? You mean those annoying buzzing yellow things Earth has!?"

"Uh, yes, that would be the one."

"This place has bees?" Donna started spinning around searching for more of the creatures in case they also wanted to sting.

"Doctor, this hurts! And why the hell is it orange!?" Renata wanted to pry the bee off her but the Doctor had shoved her hand away again.

"Y-y-you can't just yank it out, Ren!"

"It's stabbing me!" she snapped. "I think I can yank it out of I want to!"

"Well, yes, but, but--" he pointed a finger at her face, though he quickly pulled it away when she fixated a rather dark glare on him, "This isn't just a regular Earth bee. We need to get this out the right way or it might just release more poison into your system."

"Poison!?" Donna gasped in horror. "Is she going to be alright?"

"Ah, yes, completely harmless if we just take the bee out," the Doctor turned Renata around and started leading her off the bridge. "Not _yank _it out," he shot her a warning look for those hands of hers to stay on her sides. "Usually when a native bee here stings it'll just release a minor level of poison that just passes a few hours later."

"Yeah but it hurts," Renata complained and wanted so badly to rub her shoulder. "Like...it really hurts."

"I know, I know, I'll get it out. I promise," the Doctor quickened their pace to get to the TARDIS. "Donna, you can stay out here if you'd like."

"No way!" the ginger called behind them. She was literally right behind them. "I'm not getting stung by alien bees! I think I'll just visit a garden inside the TARDIS."

"Have it your way," the Doctor said distractedly. He wasn't paying attention to her because Renata was starting to whimper the more she continued to look at the bee still embedded in her skin. "You'll be fine," he took her hand and soothingly ran his fingers over the back of it.

"I should just let you know I'm kind of afraid of bugs. That could be it too," she confessed with a wrinkled nose. Her head turned in the opposite direction after catching the bee's wings still fluttering.

"I promise you that you'll be fine," the Doctor said just as they reached the TARDIS. He brought them inside and after taking them off the retreat, he took Renata for the medbay.

Donna had gone off to the garden she talked about but the Doctor might have caught her yawning.

"Just my luck, I get stung by a stupid bee!" Renata huffed when she was able to sit down on the medical bed. "And it hurts so much! Why does it hurt so much!?"

"This is a different type of bee than the ones you got used to on Earth," the Doctor came over with a few tools that Renata wasn't precisely fond of. "It's body is a bit denser than Earth bees."

"Just get it out, please," Renata's hand reached for her shoulder but the Doctor caught it before she could touch it. "Sorry..."

The Doctor smiled softly at her. "Don't worry about it. Just relax, okay? I got you." Renata felt herself flush with that look of his. Of course he had her. I'm completely under your charm, that's what you got, she silently thought.

"Okay, now this is a fairly simple procedure but it might pinch a little," the Doctor warned her as he neared her shoulder with a tool that resembled a tweezer.

"What-what are you going to do?" she eyed the tool wearily.

"Just going to take the bee out."

"Is it going to try and fly afterwards!?"

"Nah, just like Earth bees once I get this one it's just going to die without its stinger."

"Good," Renata pouted, an action she hardly did which was why the Doctor was so amused with her for a second. She stopped being that proper Time Lady to be a scared girl. It was quite a sight.

"Right, just, uh...I don't know, close your eyes if you'd like?" he watched her nod and nervously shut her eyes. "You'll be fine," he whispered encouragingly. He put one of his hands on the edge of her shoulder while his other hand went for the bloody bee. He felt her body flinch when the tweezer started pulling the bee out. It was actually a bit of a bigger bee, much to her luck, but he wouldn't tell her that. "You're doing good, Ren," he told her.

"It hurts..." her face scrunched harder.

"I know, just hang on for another minute." He purposely rubbed her shoulder with his free hand, hoping to soothe her until the bee was completely out. "There you are," he grinned, not that Renata saw it considering she still had her eyes shut. "It's all out! I even got the stinger in one go!"

But Renata still wouldn't open her eyes.

"Renée, you can open your eyes now. I've got the bee."

It was still a struggle to open her eyes completely so she just cracked one open. She yelped when she saw that he was still holding the bee in his tweezer. "Get it away from me!" she swatted her hands in front of him.

The Doctor chuckled. "Alright, alright." He turned away and took the bee with him.

Renata checked her shoulder and saw there was an ugly red blotch marking her skin now. There was a slight swelling in the middle, making it more prominent with its whiter shade. And then she saw the hole it left behind. Granted it was tiny but it was still a hole in her skin.

"Renée?" the Doctor saw the tears filling her eyes. "What's the matter?"

"Would it be too childish to say it still hurts?"

"Oh Renata, you're fine," the Doctor would've chuckled had she not been so scared. Instead, he took her into a soft hug.

"You must think I'm ridiculous, huh?" Renata sniffed. She hadn't really hugged him but she would never mind getting a hug from him. He still hugged like his first incarnation. "Time Lady gets taken down a by a stupid bee."

"I think we all have our fears," the Doctor said, completely calm. He rubbed her back and might have dropped a kiss to the top of her hair. She blushed and for that matter she kept the hug going for a bit longer until it faded. "Now how's about I clean it up and then we do some dinner?"

"Okay," she sniffed and pulled away.

He picked up an old fashion wet cloth and gently dabbed the affected skin. "It did swell a bit but nothing an ice pack can't take care of."

"Just my luck," she sighed.

"You're going to be fine," he promised her yet again. He traded the wet cloth for an ice pack that he then pressed against her skin. Renata flinched at the contact of the coldness but she allowed it to stay on her skin until it started soothing the bump. "There we go!" the Doctor brought one of Renata's hand to keep the ice pack in place. "Leave that on for about 15 minutes and we're back in business!"

Renata looked at him with a growing smile until it became a small laugh. "Thank you, Doctor. How much do I owe you?"

"One dinner," he laughed with her.

"Right, I'll get on that then," she moved to get off the bed but he gently held her arm to keep her sitting.

"No, no, I meant have one dinner with me," he clarified and though Renata knew he meant just one of their regular dinners they had each night, she still blushed. "But I'm helping you make it," he warned. "After all, you've got an injured shoulder."

"Please," she scoffed. "I'm being a big baby, that's what. Thanks for sticking through, though."

"Always," he gave her another hug and after a few moments he told her they would never go back to that retreat again.

She didn't like bees, so he would make sure to keep them far away from her.

[oops-prow-did-it-again]

Pokémon Retold: Hidden Grottos - Whispers in the Dark (1)

Pokémon Retold (series) on AO3

Consider tipping/supporting/commissioning me on Patreon? :3*

*Note that I haven’t updated the tiers yet - I no longer post fanfic work 2 weeks in advance on there, I only post original writing, art, and fanart there 2 weeks in advance! The Patreon is mostly still under construction, but commission info on there is accurate.

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Some conversations between Hil and N.

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Timeline: ~5 years after Black 2

Setting: Unova

Notes: So I had a few ideas that I wanted to write, but none of them really had a plot, it was more just “hey I want these characters to talk about X thing,” so that’s what “Whispers in the Dark” oneshots are gonna be. No real plot, just two characters rambling at each other. This particular one is fluffy again, though there are some mentions of blood/violence (recollections of the past on N’s part). And of course, it’s a little long since I just kinda let myself go and write as much as I wanted lol.

Characters: Hilbert (Hil), N, Noodle and Hil’s other pokémon, N’s Zoroark

Prerequisite Reading: Black, Black 2

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It was only about seven in the evening, and as such, N was finished with all tasks he had piled up for the day. He and Hil were back in Unova for the time being, and would be for quite a while, thanks to turbulent disagreements over some new laws that he and Hil had fought to get into place (regarding the breeding and keeping of shiny pokémon… that entire process had been headache-inducing, and N had gotten angry about it more than his fair share of times, so he didn’t particularly want to think about it anymore that day). All he really could think about was how depressing it was that pokémon rights activism—the kind that simply pushed for better living conditions for pokémon with humans, not to treat pokémon exactly like humans or whatever ideals Team Plasma had shoved down his throat for him to spew back out at the populace—had been so severely damaged by Team Plasma’s name. The public was suspicious of proposals aimed at bettering the lives of pokémon and could be vocally distrustful of their proponents, as if instinctively convinced there had to be more to it than simply wanting to help pokémon.  

He knew he wasn’t innocent in the cause, either; sure, he had never wanted to hurt anyone, and had been raised in a veil of lies to make him see the world in such a light, but he had been the one to raise the castle from the ground around the Pokémon League. There were still entire routes around it that were closed due to rockslides, and the area immediately surrounding the main Pokémon League building was off-limits due to fears over the instability of the ground, despite the country’s efforts to restore its integrity. It hurt to call it what it was, but that had been a terrorist attack on the Pokémon League. The physical and mental scars from his stay in Team Plasma as their ‘King’ were very just that: scars that would always be visible, even if they faded over time.

He jolted upright in the chair he was sinking into when he heard the front door click. Hil had left earlier that day to talk to Gym Leader Drayden, as well as other high-ranking officials in Opelucid City, as it was one of the most vocally displeased with the new laws. He had told N that he had just wanted to see if he could see what exactly the people there had an issue with, or if it was just flat-out paranoia causing the issues. When the door opened, Hil staggered in and then slammed it behind him, leaning back against it and groaning. “Opelucid’s still such a mess,” he whined. “Yeah, Gym Leader Drayden had actual concerns, but I still have no idea what the police chief woman, whatever her name was, was trying to tell me. I had to get her to write it down to see if Church or Nathan or somebody can decipher her language.”

“Mm,” N laughed softly, “it was that bad, was it?” Truthfully, he was elated that Hil was back, and he restrainedly got up out of the chair to go greet him. He really just wanted to dart over and hug him, but he had difficulty allowing himself not to be so mindful and composed of his own movements (even after so much time, proper ‘etiquette for a king’ was still instinctual to him, beaten into his head by the various Sages as he had gotten older. “A King does not run around like a child,” he remembered specifically being chided at one point. At another, after he had excitedly pumped his fist at finally grasping some concept that had been eluding him in a math workbook, “Stop that. People don’t respect someone that so childishly celebrates themselves.”).

At his approach, Hil casually leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him, leaning against his chest, almost. “Yes. I’m ready to be done thinking for the day.” The sight vaguely amused N—Hil was quite a few inches shorter than he was, the top of his head barely coming past his chin—and he stiffly moved his arms to lazily loop around Hil. Before he had a chance to say anything, Hil added resignedly, “Also, Cheren called me about something.”

Frowning, N tilted his head slightly. “About what?”

“Amber’s not doing great,” he sighed, clutching N a little closer. “Apparently, her job in Accumula sent somebody to go knock on her door because she’d missed like four days in a row without calling ahead and wasn’t responding to anything, not even voicemails. Nothing was wrong, really, just she was in her bed and wouldn’t get out of it except to answer the door, and so that person went and told Cheren and…” he trailed off and shook his head against N’s chest. “I don’t like her. At all. I haven’t forgiven her for all she did. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to her… I think I’m gonna head down to Nuvema tomorrow. Cheren said he left one of his Watchog with her, and he said that if anything goes wrong,” Hil laughed halfheartedly, “the whole town’ll know.”

“You will need to head there alone, won’t you?” N asked, though it came out sounding more like a statement. He felt a small pang of guilt for that—it wasn’t like Hil wasn’t allowed to go places without him, after all, and he certainly didn’t wish Hil any heartache over his mother—but he couldn’t help the almost childish desire to want to be by his side no matter what. Not to mention, he hated being stuck at the Pokémon League without him… Rarely did their duties require them to be separated, since the Consul position had been built around the idea of the two leaders operating as a team, but it seemed to N that just meant whenever for some reason they did have to separate, it was that much more difficult.

“Yeah,” Hil answered softly, loosening his grasp on N some and backing up a step. With a goofy smile that he was so good at, he shrugged. “It shouldn’t be too long, though… I’m just gonna try to talk to her and see what’s up and see if I can’t suggest something for her to do.” With that, he gingerly took N by the hand and led him over to the couch in the living room, letting him go only to flop down on the left end. His voice hardening some, Hil remarked, “I’m gonna see what I can do to help her, but if she’s just gonna act the victim and try to guilt me, I’ll leave her there. I’m not her bargaining chip anymore. So, either way, it’s not gonna take long.”

Awkwardly sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, N briefly looked for the remote, only to jump when Zoroark rushed up to him with it in her mouth. At his quizzical raise of an eyebrow, she snorted and dropped it in his hands. You were busy with paperwork and whatever else it is you do most of the day, she reminded him. What did you think I was doing all that time?

Watching TV, apparently, N teased. I don’t know how you watch that thing alone. I hardly understand any of it unless it’s a documentary or I’m watching with Hil. And I’ve tried!

With a shake of the head that was followed by an eye roll, she limped away from him and her attention was drawn to Noodle as Hil released the Serperior from his Poké Ball. Upon spotting Zoroark, Noodle trilled and shook out the leaves over his body, waving the very end of his tail at her tauntingly. She moved like she was going to chase him, and he zipped around the couch and out of sight, far faster than it seemed a ten-foot, legless creature should have been able to move.

Watching them go, Hil snarked, “Y’know, I’d release the others, but I feel like they’d crash the place.”

“Can always ask them not to,” N chuckled. “My other friends are around here somewhere…”

“Around here somewhere, he says,” Hil laughed. “My guess is… Archeops is in the ceiling fan in our room, considering Klinklang hasn’t fought him over it today, Carracosta is outside trying to catch the sun before it goes down, and Vanilluxe has probably abandoned her funny ice enclosure and decided the freezer was more appealing.”

“You say all of that like it’s a bad thing,” N coyly replied, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. Just in case he was incorrect in assuming Hil was joking, though, he not-so-smoothly added, “Also, Vanilluxe’s enclosure might be fine, but it’s only natural she’d want to explore some like the others…”

“I know, I know,” Hil snickered, “I’m just kidding. Though, I am glad you managed to convince her to learn to shut the door after her… That was fun when we had everything melt into the floor that one day… And also am glad that we found out Archeops was doing that before he completely ruined the fan motor by trying to catch it while it was on…” Shaking his head in amusement, Hil tossed the other six free (N had learned a long time ago that the ‘six pokémon at a time’ rule only applied when people were participating in League matches or, in battle, a person was disallowed from using more than six pokémon maximum), including his Musharna, Zebstrika, Liepard, Simipour, Watchog, and Druddigon. Sleepy, Prada, Lucky, Crest, Roadie, and Shay.

N had never given his pokémon nicknames, but through talking to Hil’s, he had found the pokémon didn’t mind, or in some cases, even enjoyed theirs. An interesting discussion with Lucky had revealed that although she hadn’t understood the name at first, she had heard Hil explain multiple times it was because he felt ‘lucky’ to have caught her at all. Over time, she had come to understand most humans didn’t see Purrloin or Liepard as lucky creatures, or even good pokémon at all, and she had come to appreciate the name so much more. Every time he says it, she had purred as she had rubbed against N’s legs, I’m reminded of how glad I am to be with a trainer that appreciates me, even if I am not a powerhouse compared to other pokémon… He’s seen the power of a legendary, and still appreciates me. I think that’s really something special. Following that conversation, N had talked to his pokémon and asked if they had any thoughts about nicknames or wanted any. The consensus from his partners was that while they wouldn’t have minded, they weren’t hurt by the lack of nicknaming. They even appreciated that N had respected them so much that he hadn’t wanted to saddle them with a name that might have meant nothing or even been annoying to them. That all had happened not too long after he and Hil had started staying together at the Pokémon League, and it was one of many eye-opening experiences since then. While he had previously believed nicknames were made by callous trainers that couldn’t have possibly known what their pokémon wanted, he then learned they could be something special, and represent something so much more than a mere label.

“N?” Hil called, in an almost sing-song voice. “You home?”

Jolting out of his thoughts, N blinked at him. “Yes?”

“You’re staring real hard at that remote,” Hil teased. Despite the smirk, his voice dropped to something more tender and he asked, “You okay?”

Setting the TV remote down within Hil’s reach, N nodded. “Oh, yes,” he answered quickly, “sorry…” Pausing, he then shook his head. “I was just thinking about how much I have learned since we started doing… this. Consuls.”

“Yeah?” Hil musingly asked, and although he picked up the remote, he didn’t press any of its buttons and had his eyes squarely trained on N. “What about it?”

“It just amazes me sometimes,” N reluctantly went on. “How much I thought I understood about pokémon and how I spent so much time in that castle learning about them and the world, and yet… I knew practically nothing at all,” he almost laughed, a pained chuckle. “Something as simple as nicknames seemed like such an evil and scary concept back then… I bought so easily into that, where if I had just simply spoken to someone and their pokémon about it sooner, I would have seen how silly that was… Of course, that isn’t the only thing I was led wrong about. It just… is amazing how so many little details I was given to train me against reality.”

Bringing his arms to cross over his chest, N almost hugged himself, even moving so he tucked his legs up on the couch at a slant, his knees pulled partially up to him. Of course, remembering the lies that came with his past was a slippery slope, and the next thought that crossed his mind made him want to cringe and shake. Ghetsis had, at one point, personally brought him a Snivy to his bedroom. The pokémon was wrapped in a white sheet splotched with dark green, and shut the door behind them, signaling to N nobody else would be joining them in that moment. N had immediately dropped the basketball he had been playing with and stiffened his back. Zoroark—a Zorua at the time—had wedged herself between his feet, instinctively cowering in that way she always did whenever Ghetsis was around. N didn’t remember how old he had been exactly, but he was sure he had been somewhere between eight or ten, and Ghetsis had limped over and leaned down, moving the sheet just enough to show N what was wrong with the Snivy in his grasp.

N had recoiled in horror and nearly tripped over Zorua as he backpedaled to his bed, the shock forcing him to take a seat, all of which had made Zorua yelp as she dove under his bed to get away from whatever was going on. Breathing heavily, N had gawked at Ghetsis with round eyes. The Snivy wrapped in the sheet was bleeding profusely and N could only just barely tell that it was alive at all, with the way its eyelids fluttered (though its eyes were rolled into the back of its head). Its tail was in tatters, missing huge chunks, and its lower body had deep, jagged slices cut into it, meaning it had no legs, either, and half of one arm was missing. It had taken a moment for N to finally choke out, “What—what happened to him?” It had never dawned on N until he retroactively looked over the memory that Ghetsis had remained perfectly quiet until N had asked that question. He had kept deliberately quiet because he intended to shock N.

“It was lost by a careless breeder, from one of her prized Serperior’s newest broods, and hit with a lawnmower,” Ghetsis had matter-of-factly explained, then unceremoniously dumped the pokémon in his lap, blood-soaked sheet and all. N was forced to catch it with his shaking hands to keep it from rolling off his lap and into the floor.

“A-and what do I do?” N had asked in a sheer panic. “It’s—it’s going to die, if we can’t get it help!”

“Oh, N,” Ghetsis had almost crooned. “There is no helping a pokémon that injured. You see, that careless breeder didn’t even notice she was missing one of her pokémon, because humans breed pokémon carelessly for profit and for battle. Why bother counting or keeping track when you can always produce more? Moreover, the person that hit this pokémon didn’t even notice, because it could not hear it over the sound of the engine of their lawnmower, and Snivy, as you can see, bleed green. It was the Shadow Triad who brought that poor thing to me. I brought it to you because I want you to see how careless people can be with living creatures, even as defenseless as a two-week-old Snivy.”

“What about the Pokémon Centers?” N had puffed through suddenly very dry lips. His throat had felt coarse and it had been difficult to swallow. Shivering at that point, he had withdrawn his legs and arms to the bed, much like he was currently doing on the couch there with Hil. He had cradled that dying Snivy close, unable to catch his breath, desperate for anything to do to save it or end its suffering, at the very least… The way its eyelid had kept fluttering had made him want to vomit.

“Pokémon Centers are made for healing pokémon after battle,” Ghetsis had nonchalantly informed him. Again, N hadn’t even realized how dissociative Ghetsis had sounded until so many years later… “Pokémon this severely injured are left to die or are euthanized. People see pokémon as easily replaceable. To them, investing time and energy into saving a pokémon this egregiously injured, which may be crippled for the rest of its life even if it did survive, just isn’t a priority, when you could just as easily breed another.”

“N? Hey, you’re scarin’ me a little…”

N blinked and shook his head vigorously, glancing back at Hil. “Hmm…?”

“I tried saying something back to you and you spaced out…” Hil frowned, concern etched all over his face. Brushing a dark, brown curl of hair out of his face, he gently asked, “Did you hear anything I said before I called you just then…?”

N swallowed hard and looked down at his trembling arms, crossed tightly over his chest. “No…”

“You know it isn’t your fault, all those things you didn’t understand or have been relearning…” Hil repeated himself calmly. He didn’t make a move to get any closer or to touch him, and N silently appreciated it. Although Hil loved physical affection whenever his mind spiraled somewhere less than pleasant, N found that he usually didn’t, at least, not when it came to remembering his time in the castle. Usually, once he calmed down some, he would quietly or wordlessly ask for a hug or something, but during, close physical contact had a way of merely stressing him out…

“I know it isn’t… But it still is… unpleasant to think about sometimes,” N mumbled.

“Then, maybe we shouldn’t think about it too much, eh?” Hil looked up thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, “Maybe it’d help to think about when you did start to learn some of that stuff better, huh? I know you still had all of them in your ear while you were traveling Unova and beating the gyms…” As he trailed off, N almost snickered at the way Hil had said ‘them.’ He said it with such animosity, and he seemed intent on never mentioning Ghetsis’ name nowadays if he could help it. Although he didn’t realize it consciously, N did find it cute, how Hil could sound so protective of him when badmouthing Team Plasma and everything they had done. Sure, N had seen firsthand how dangerous Hil could be when he needed to be, but for the most part… Hil was a kind-hearted, anxious, delightful mess, and his threats could come off as childish in idle conversation… Somehow, that just felt even more endearing. “…But when you were fighting the gyms and traveling, you had to have learned some new stuff that made you think… What do you think was the first time anything really seemed to challenge what all they taught you?”

“You should already know that answer,” N laughed, his posture loosening a little at the much more pleasant memory flooding him, instead of that horrific one. He gave Hil an expectant look, still amused when the other’s cheeks dusted red and he nervously smiled.

“Ah… I should?” Hil asked dumbly.

Rolling his eye—N had ultimately decided to get a glass eye to replace his missing one, and the doctors had done such a wonderful job, it was only whenever he did something like this that it was apparent his other eye was false—N mused, “Well… There was this time in a little town named Accumula where I was stocking up on supplies and preparing to go ‘free’ some pokémon from some trainers that had just been given them by a professor in Nuvema. My intention was to set them free and then head to Striaton to challenge one of the triplets. I believe then that I ran into two boys, one with a Snivy and the other with a Tepig, and a girl with an Oshawott.”

Picking up on the game, Hil’s face lit up and he tauntingly pressed, “Are you sure…? I dunno, might’ve been the girl with the Snivy,” he laughed.

N all but groaned. “Anyway,” he pointedly huffed, “that was the first real experience I remember where something… really conflicted with all I had been taught.”

As if on cue, there was the sound of clattering from the kitchen. Hil peaked over the back of the sofa. “They knocked over a chair,” he reported. “No damage, but…” He then tried to articulate in something of a trill, Noodle, careful!

Despite the questionable execution, Noodle hissed back after a brief pause, She did it! She’s using illusions! I didn’t see it there!

And you were using vines, Zoroark chimed in smugly with a chuff. If you use vines, I get to use illusions.

On what planet is that fair? Noodle moodily huffed.

Just… don’t break anything, Hil resignedly called after them in something mixed between a growl and a trill, before shaking his head and slumping back down on the sofa. He rubbed his throat. “Yeah, that still hurts a bit,” he chuckled. “Anyway… as you were saying?”

Seeing Hil try to talk to pokémon like that still was so thrilling for N. Despite years of practice, he could still struggle at times, but that didn’t matter at all. N had been told for so long that his ability was hated by humanity and even Ghetsis had hated it when he said anything about speaking to pokémon around him… It had been beaten into his head to never repeat what a pokémon had said to him, or to even acknowledge his ability unless absolutely necessary (and yet, Ghetsis loved to rub it in the faces of any who would listen that N was King because of his ability to understand pokémon…). Still, smiling like a fool after listening to Hil talk to the pokémon, N continued his story at a faster rate, his words naturally kicking up in speed in his excitement, “You had let Noodle out of his Poké Ball during Team Plasma’s speech, and when you did that, he said something… something about how he really liked you already. And even when I tried talking to him briefly before I approached you, from a distance, um… using my ability, I had told him that I was there to set them free. That I was sure all he, the Oshawott, and the Tepig knew was a room in a lab and the confinement of Poké Balls. And after that, he had said that he liked you, that he was going to see more at your side, and that he was done talking to me… unless I could best him in battle. And that was why I wanted to battle you to—”

“Hear my pokémon’s voice again?” Hil cut him off, grinning practically from ear to ear. “Y’know, I always did wonder why you wanted to battle me that day… For someone that hated pokémon battling and all that, you sure were ready to throw hands that day.”

“Even after beating him, he didn’t talk to me anymore,” N snorted. “Well, he did, but all he said was that he wanted me to go away.” He shook his head. “I had… never in my life, until that point, heard a pokémon claim to like a trainer and resist my company over it… At the time, I told myself that pokémon didn’t know any better, that it was little better than Stockholm syndrome, or that Poké Balls somehow brainwashed some pokémon into believing their captors were good unless the person actively abused them… Then, I kept traveling and kept running into pokémon that claimed to like or even love their trainers… Even if I didn’t change right then, looking back on it does feel good… I always knew there was something wrong, even if I couldn’t place it…”

“See?” Hil cheerfully insisted.

N nodded, then wryly added, “But I also kept running into that boy and his Snivy, or Servine… and oh, how he made me think.” Dramatically making a show of huffing in irritation, he then scanned Hil’s expression to ensure he was understanding his teasing. N thought he was replicating how Hil sometimes sarcastically joked, but he still couldn’t be totally sure, so he was relieved to see Hil cackling at him, flushing darker red as he spoke.

“Oh, thinking!” Hil played along. “The horror!”

“You laugh, but to me at that point? It was,” N chuckled. “Every single time I ran into you, more questions were raised about Ghetsis’ plans and all of that, and I just had to stuff them all down and believe I was correct, because I was the ‘Hero of Ideals.’”

“Now that you mention it,” Hil coyly mused, “I remember running into this green-haired dude all the time that loved to show up and drop bombshells, almost every time. But my favorite thing he ever said to me was, ‘Maybe if the world were simply different, we could have been friends.’”

N blinked. “What, really? That?”

“Well, for one,” Hil snorted, “the main reason I was half-obsessed with you, before I knew how wrapped around his thumb he had you, was because of you saying that. How you decided right away that we couldn’t be friends. I didn’t understand you and, uh, 14-year-old, hormone-riddled brain decided, ‘Oh, we can’t be friends, huh? I’ll show you!’ And now, well…” Hil slyly put his hands behind his head, lazily kicking his feet out to the floor. “Wouldn’t you know it, we are friends, aren’t we?”

Opening and shutting his mouth for a second, N then frowned and cocked his head. “Why yes, we are, aren’t we? I had barely even remembered saying that… You took that that seriously?”

“Maybe,” Hil abruptly pulled his hands from behind him and crossed them tightly. A smirk betrayed his amusement (not to mention the still-raging blush over his cheeks). Teasingly, he raised his chin back at N. “Why, you wishing I hadn’t?”

“What? No, not at all,” N uneasily responded as he had difficulty parsing Hil’s reaction, then scooted closer to him. The discomfort from earlier had waned and he wanted to be closer to the other now. Almost purring as he inched his way nearer, N tried to smoothly comment, “I have no idea why you took that remark so seriously… But I am glad you did…”

“I’m just teasing,” Hil softly whispered as he hooked his right arm around N’s left and gently pulled him a little closer, leaning his head down onto his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know why, either.”

“That just seems to be how you are,” N chuckled after he relaxed in Hil’s hold, eventually awkwardly leaning his head over onto Hil’s. “You… are so kind to a fault. I don’t know if anyone else would have been able to fill the role that you have… I’m glad that Reshiram recognized that…” Closing his eyes and sighing contentedly, he then had an evil idea pull his lips into a broad grin. “I certainly can’t imagine sitting here and doing this with Cheren.”

Sputtering, Hil finally incredulously gasped, “Where did that come from?”

“Remember how I was insistent on him being the ‘Hero’ for a while?” N teased, though a small pang of anxiety flared as he wondered if he had gone a little too far with his attempt at humor…

“Oh,” Hil laughed away N’s nerves. He wrapped an arm around N and rubbed his back reassuringly. “Mm, wouldn’t you like that, third wheeling it with him in Nuvema while that wild two-year-old of his tries to eat your hair.”

“What is it with Jessica and my hair?” N complained as he remembered their last few visits to Cheren and Bianca’s. Although their daughter wasn’t old enough to go without supervision that long yet, she could walk, and she had taken a keen interest in N during their visit. Which, despite everyone’s best attempts to keep her away from N, had resulted in her yanking on his lengthy hair more than a few times. Having never interacted with a young child in his entire life, N had already been anxious just by being around her, and that experience certainly hadn’t helped at all. Why did something so cute and small have to be so intimidating…? She seemed fearless, too, for one of the times she yanked on his hair, he hadn’t been expecting it at all and had hissed in surprise, and she had just laughed!

“It’s pretty,” Hil replied simply, stroking some of it for emphasis.

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” N almost purred again as he leaned against Hil’s hand. Having someone he trusted and knew didn’t want to manipulate him in any way showing him such affection just felt so nice…

Thumbing the TV remote at last, Hil flicked his thumb across the button at the top. “You wanna pick something while I figure out something for dinner?” he asked gingerly.

“Like what?” N asked distractedly, still focusing more on the soft strokes of Hil’s hand over his hair. It dawned on him that what Hil had said meant he intended to get up in a moment and he frowned at that thought, but more than that, he genuinely didn’t know what to find to watch… He didn’t really tend to watch much of anything without Hil there, so he didn’t know what he would have ‘found’ for them to watch.

“There’s a new comedy or something that came out the other day. Would you wanna watch that?” Hil suggested, as if sensing his uncertainty.

“That sounds nice,” N agreed blithely. He usually still enjoyed whatever Hil picked, so he was happy with letting him do that.

With a hum that served as all the answer N needed, Hil located whatever the movie was with a few touches to the buttons on the remote, and then left it hovering over the ‘play’ button. “I’ll go make something and make sure Noodle didn’t break the kitchen,” he yawned as he slowly unraveled his arm from around N, eliciting an involuntary whine from him. N immediately scrambled to sit upright and cleared his throat.

“I mean, alright,” he flatly covered up his whine, hoping Hil wouldn’t comment on it. Not that he understood why he felt embarrassed and didn’t want Hil to comment on it…

Hil hopped up and snickered, then rubbed the top of N’s head, messing up his hair some more. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. “I swear.” Loping off into the kitchen, he heard Hil then hiss at Noodle, Will you get off that? That rack is for pots and pans, which you definitely are not!

Giggling to himself, N heard Noodle sulkily growl back, Well, I was playing hide and seek… and now you just gave me away.

And you can play it somewhere that’s not in my kitchen, Hil retorted without skipping a beat.

Don’t mess with him and his kitchen, N thought amusedly to himself. Hil has a thing for his kitchen… (Which, admittedly, was a good thing—N had discovered when Hil had tried to teach him to cook that he not only was gifted with the ability to talk to pokémon, but also with that of somehow burning water, and Hil had subsequently decided that perhaps it was best if he cooked from then on.)

Noodle slithered back out into the living room and Zoroark suddenly materialized with a flash of purple from beside the reclining chair in the corner of the room, lunging at him. They played in the floor for a moment before Noodle complained that he was tired.

For as uncomfortable as it sometimes felt to stay at that house for too long, N had to admit, over time, it became easier and easier to stay there for longer stretches of time as long as Hil was there.

[eliza-writes-stuff]

Our Sweet Guardian Demon: Pilot Episode

Hey, guys! I have been working on this pilot for a few weeks now.

Now, for the fanfic, it will take me a few months. Our Sweet Guardian Demon will be released somewhere in the fall or early winter.

It’s strange that this idea came from “Imagine Your OT3″ XD

And as always, I hope ye enjoy!

Dogs barking, cats meowing, and parakeets tweeting their away. The pet store can be busy either way with people or animals in general. The phone vibrates in a man's pocket. His hand reaches for it and accepts the call. His other hand is scratching the dog's fur.

“Brian, do you need something?” The man in green apron asked. “I'm at work right now.”

“Yes, I know Brock, but can you stay over for the night?”

Brock hummed, “Why?”

“I know yer scared of this shit and don't want to get involved because my magick can hurt ye.” Brian ramble. There was some rustling in the background. “So, do ye, I don't focking know summon a demon with me?"

A demon? That is dangerous even for Brian's standard of black magick. Does he need to curse Evan again for coming over at his place without permission, but Brian isn't really angry at him. Did he got dared again on his group chat again? Brock thought he told him not to interact with them.

"Why do you need me?" Brock questioned. The dog barked next to him with curious puppy eyes. It laid down its head on Brock's lap.

"Yer the only one I can trust. Evan might touch me things without my goddamn permission and Nogla's a bit of a dumb-ass figure this shit out." Brian sighed. "I'm sorry ye don't want to do this and-"

"I'll join." Brock giggled at the stutters and 'whats' Brian said. "Just buy me lunch after this okay? Also, we better get out of this alive or I'll be stuck with you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Maybe."

Brian chuckled on the line, "I'll see you tonight Brocky."

When Brock's shift is over and he told Maxi watch over the shop tomorrow because he might be dead. Well, he left out the dead part. He says he has personal reasons. Maxi didn't pressure him and they were nice about it. They say that their sister and his two dogs, Oli and Nico  is coming over. Brock took an uber and tell the driver for the locations to the apartment.

The urban life is always bustling and chattering among the citizens. If he rolled down his window, there could be the smell of cooked processed fast food or baked chocolate chip cookies. At least the shops has a nice smell.

The uber driver came to an abrupt stop. There's the apartment building. Brock gave some money to the driver and gave him 5 stars since he didn't care about the rating. He got out of the car and hoisted up his backpack. This is it. His stomach sink, but his heart lighten up at the thought of Brian. He could protect him, right? Only one way to find out is to go in.

Brock pushed the glass door opened. The manager with pink hair is sitting down with his eyes seem to be always closed. The manager's expression light up and eyes slightly opened. When the glass door light out a creak. He gave a small wave to him and continue writing down. How can he see without his eyes opened? Never mind that. Brock has a date-hangout with Brian.

Both of them has to come out alive.

He stepped into the elevator and took a shaky breath. Maybe the ritual is a fluke. His trembling fingers pressed the buttons to go up on the fourth floor. The lobby was his view before it closes on him. Don’t chicken out now.

-

The candles are set up, the sigil is draw on the floor, and his other magic items are there. His hand wiped off the remaining sweat on his forehead. Thank god, Brian read the instructions. It has to work or it will be not worth it. He got out of the side room of his bedroom, which you should never have. Brian pulled out his phone and checks the text again.

~

Teh Terroriser: are u sure this would work?

Sarah: yes

Sarah: he’ll give you a special item that will reveal brock’s s/o

Sarah: but it’s for a price

Sarah: good luck :)

~

Brian knows he shouldn’t do this to reveal his friend’s secrets, but his friends tells him that Brock likes him back. No matter what they say, his brain denies, but his heart yearns. For years, he has considered practicing black magick as a hobby and finds it especially when it comes to pranking Nogla.

His hands gripped around his phone. Brian sighed and put his back in his pocket. A loud two time thud from his front door. It must be Brock. He ran from the bedroom to the front door and opened to see a small smile from a man.

“I thought you weren’t gonna join.” Brian said in disbelief.

Brock’s erupt into small, cute giggles, “Can’t let my friend die.” Brian lets him and hangs up his coat. “So, when we are summoning?”

“Either 2 or 3 in the morning.” He nervously laughed as Brock crossed his arms. “But in the meantime, wanna play Mario Kart 8?”

-

You had plenty of money in 1922.

A song from the jukebox softly plays throughout the tavern. Fairy lights almost covering the ceiling. A few folks chatting among themselves, either about rumors or sweet-talk. People had strange taste when it comes to alcohol. Vodka with orange juice? Now, you’re a true drunk toddler. At least there’s mineral water. A distinct smell came through the noses. Smoke. People aren’t allowed to smoke in the bar, so they had to take it outside. Strange.

You let other women make a fool of you.

Luke Patterson is the owner of Mystic Drinks. With his charming nature and sultry voice, it pleases the women and men. He’ll throw a smile, it swoons the ladies in the back. However, despite his seductive personality, you don’t want to leash the beast out of him. Well, he did in bed, but if someone ticked his long beard off. They’re either kick out or never be seen again. When Luke found the source of the smoking problem, he grabbed them by the collar. Kicking and yelling, people stared at the two. Finally, the door slams shut as the person got kicked. Luke’s eyes order to ignore it.

Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?

“That’s the third time you kicked out someone.” The man in glasses giggled.

Luke sighed and ruffled the man’s tied up bun. “Look I want to make a safe place for y’all and this is the thanks I get? People treat this like a dumpster fire Ohm.” Luke’s shoulders tensed, but calm when another bartender put his hands on it.

Get out of here and get me some money too?

“Don’t let that asshole get to you. He can take that nasty cigar and shove it up his ass.” The jiggly man retorted.

“Thanks Anthony.” 

Ohm enjoy his friends. Hearing Anthony laughed every time he makes a dumb, somewhat sexualised jokes. He knows Luke longer than Anthony. Some say they were friends with benefits, which it is true, but it’s over when Luke found a special someone, or two. They all became a couple, and they own a bar called Mystic Drinks. It’s a safe place for humans and creatures as well. Creatures, such as demons, wendigos, avains, lizard-folk, and dragons. Luke is a Lust demon, he and Anthony are Wrath demons, and Mini is an Envy demon.

“Hey, where’s Mini?”

“He got summoned.” Luke explained. “He said there’s this bitch who got jealous of this other bitch.” He let a breathy laugh, “Humans are so dumb.”

“Yep. I got summoned one time by this guy. He said ‘hey uh I want you to kill this asshole’ and I thought ‘you kill himself!” Anthony complained as he grabbed the mixer and shakes it. “Does it look like I’m your bitch?”

Ohm and Luke laughed at his story, “Sorry, but you and Mini are my bitches.” Luke put his arms around Anthony, but he shoved him off.

“Treat me first, you bottom bitch.” Then he pours the drinks in the blonde woman’s glass. Ohm laughed and takes a sip from his mineral water.

Humans meant nothing to demons. Just an object to toy around and maybe take souls from. At least a few souls because there’s an overpopulation going in the Nine Circles of Hell and they can’t handle more new souls coming to hell. What about humans who are satanist? They’re wannabes who thinks they know their emotions and what they’re going through. Some demons think it’s funny and plays along or can be their friend.

Why would Ohm be friends with a disgusting human? He gets a tug on his wrists, and he rolled down to see his sigil flashing.

“I have to go,” He sighed as he got up from his chair. “It was chatting with you guys.” Ohm walks away from the two and went outside. The guy who got kicked out because he was smoking. The man grumbled, but Ohm quickly snaps his fingers and the man is now in the trash can. He struggled while Ohm chuckles silently. He disappears from sight.

-

The red candles lit up and surrounds the circle. Inside of the circle is a sigil. The room faintly smells of raspberries. Brock and Brian sit crossed legged. The room doesn’t have any windows or one of those air vents. Not to mention it’s quite small. The phone glowed out the locked screen with the time of 3 in the morning.

“We got this set up, now what?” Brock asked. His eyes darting around the room.

“Now, we get to say the magic words.” Brian wiggled his fingers out, his friend giggle at the actions. He gives him a piece of paper. “This is what I’ll be saying and it’s not focking Latin. Thank god.”

“Wait, you’re doing this alone?”

“Well, yeah.” As much he wants Brock around, but he can’t join in because the demon might want something from him as well. He can’t risk it. “But ye get to drag me out in case shit backfires.”

“So basically I’m dragging your ass out of hell.”

“Yep.” He laughed. Then stares at the circle. It’s time. Brian took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“Lord Satan, by your grace, grant me, I pray thee the power to conceive in my mind and to execute that which I desire to do, the end which I would attain by thy help, O Mighty Satan, the one True God who livest and reignest forever and ever. I entreat thee to inspire Ohmwrecker to manifest before me that she may give me true and faithful answer, so that I may accomplish my desired end, provided that it is proper to his/her office. This I respectfully and humbly ask in Your Name, Lord Satan, may you deem me worthy, Father.” 

A few minutes and still is in the air. Brian took a shaky breath and opened his eyes. This has to work because all that black magick he learn has gone to waste in the dirt.

Within the circle, the sigil glows bright red. Little red candles fire up more and sways. Then spreads in the circle. Brock gasped while Brian is shocked in disbelief. It’s supposed to glow pink, not red. Did he mess up the sigil? Oh god, what kind of demon would it be?

Fire and smoke rose from the ground, causing the two to scoot back. Brian wrapped his arm around Brock. Smoke fades when a man wearing a white t-shirt. Red marks on his arms when he crossed. His eyes are covered by a blindfold with an omega symbol on it. The demon scowled on the cowering men. If you look at another angle, you could see a small bun near his neck.

“Jeez, you humans are so irresponsible. Don’t you know I can end you?” Despite his tense aura and vexation, his appearance alone is heating up the room. Literally, Brian cheeks rushed with flushed and it appears that Brock’s cheeks has become too. “Just tell me what is the problem?”

Be respectful and welcoming, “Ye see, I accidentally summoned ye-”

“Accidentally?” His voice booms and the room almost shakes. A small desk in the corner almost felled.

“I wasn’t supposed to summon ye! I was trying to summon another demon. I must’ve got the sigil wrong or said the name wrong.” Brian explained. His sweat soaked his forehead and armpits. Surprised, it didn’t stink.

The demon clenched his nose before pointing fingers at Brian, “At least I know you waste my precious time and pissed me off even more.” He gives a low chuckle. “I supposed you deserve to be perish.” He raised his hand as Brian stands up to floating above his toes. Before the demon could grab his collar, Brock stands between them. “Mortal human get away or you’ll end up like your pathetic friend.”

“I could do that, but aren’t we supposed to make a deal?” Brian could almost hear his friend’s heart beat getting louder. “How about we find something you greatly desire: money, food, or heck even animals. Just don’t kill Brian please.” Brock begged, his voice wavering. Before you know it, Brian dropped onto the ground. He scrambled up to his feet and quickly hold his hand.

“Anything?” The demon rubbed his imaginary beard. “Fine. In order to save your soul, you must find a certain group of people and when you do. Kill them.” a shiver ran through their spine. “No matter depending on your morals or alignment, you still have to kill them. Including you cutie.” he points at Brock.

“You can’t do that! Don’t involve Brock into this bullshit. This is between me and you, ye cu-”

“Brian.” Brock gave a soft smile, “Please, you created this mess and I’m always the one who has to clean it up. You did promise to buy me lunch.”

 “Enough with the sappy talk. I have to make sure the both of you won’t try and escape.” With the snap of his fingers, visible chains on Brian’s right wrist and Brock’s left wrist. It’s connected to the demon’s wrist. “It’s better that way.”

“Sorry, but can you please tell us your name?”

“I’m quite sure ‘Brian’ knows who I am, but I let it pass since you do have a good soul.” Before he could introduce himself, he kinda stop. He seems to be his thoughts while glancing at two, but shake his head. “I am known as Ohmwrecker, but my companions call me Ohm.”

[heamatic-a]

@kathexismania​

2019 is almost over!

(a well-deserved positivity for you!!) 

I know I already have told you numerous times over our Discord chat, but I could not resist, as I wrap the year 2019, I could not forget how coming across your blogs (heamatic, desxderium, akanenxmai) have literally changed my life. Before I nabbed Hanzo (and shortly after Kuai) around February and March of this year, I was going to quit roleplaying, writing and being on Tumblr in its entirety. That’s when all the MK11 hype was going around (I was one of them, despite not being a gamer myself) in March and when we began writing together. The moment I came across your blog, Jester, I thought I had hit the jackpot, and I realized that our writing meshes so well together, as well as our muses’ chemistry and dynamics. You have been nothing, but compassionate, kind, understanding and sympathetic and just overall an awesome person, friend and writing partner. I love everything we write together, no matter what muses and verses. 

I treasure Hanzo and Cassie so much, and they certainly have been one of the most unexpected ships that I will ship for eternity, and tbh, they have become one of my otps, because they have grown so much together (compared to their MKX characteristics and regarding the story mode), Hanzo and Becky (for all their emotional baggage and having to withstand themselves from bigger forces trying to hunt and kill them) and Becky being one of the most fleshed-out OCs I’ve ever seen, and you have such a clear and concise idea of her in so many interesting verses and I dig all of them quite honestly, and most recently, Hanzo and Akane, through their conveyed emotions, I absolutely love that they do not have to talk that much to understand each other, and they come across as soulmates, protecting each other’s assets and watching out for their physical and mental sanity. Also Kuai Liang and Cassie, although that is the most unusual ship I’ve ever written to this date, I treasure them because they’re inherently so good and respectful towards each other when they do become a couple. Through our various ships, you have been nothing, but receptive, open, and adaptive, but most importantly, you have listened to all of my ideas and gave me so much confidence, because I was (and still is) so insecure not only of my writing, but weary of how my ideas would come across, as well as my headcanons. 

And talking with you literally daily on Discord certainly helped with my mindset; I’ve grown more confident, and my writing has taken leaps of development. I began to write more headcanon posts and you have always encouraged me to write more, and supported the cause of me going off tangent in developing so many different verses and AUs. I will never forget your kindness with offering me graphics and literally having been serving as a catalyst in my blow’s rebranding and remaking. Without you, it wouldn’t have been possible to get my blog where I am, with such amazing chemistry, dynamics and connection not only OOC, but IC as well. 

I am going to ramble if you don’t stop me, so I will try to keep it short, but you are such a remarkable and exquisite writer. Your writing flow so effortlessly, and not only am I fucking blown away by your internalization/introspection, but your muses’ dialogues, no matter who you happen to grasp with such perfection. Your graphics and art are goals as you’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever seen on this hellsite. If the year 2019 has granted me one thing that’s invaluable and most treasurable, it’s certainly you. You will always be my dear friend and my incorrigible writing partner, and my fucking ride or die.

KATHYYY!

First I wanna apologize because you sent this a few days ago and it took me a while to respond but I wanted my response to be worthwhile.

Now listen – LISTEN – I’m just so glad you followed me when you did. When you followed me and I saw your incredible writing and portrayal, I remember thinking ‘what is this quality blog doing following a potato like me??!’ because you know, I’ve told you many times, just how in awe I am of your poetic writing and how well it flows, how beautiful it is. I’m always completely floored by every reply I receive from you: it’s like Christmas and my birthday all at once every time lol I adore everything we write together, especially since we have a variety of subjects we write: funny, angst, smut, sweet, violent, etc… you name it. There’s never a dull moment and it’s always so much fun! And you already know how I was on the verge of quitting as well, how you’ve managed to make writing so much fun for me again. ;u;

And look: our ships? I love them so freakin’ much! Needless to say I think that save for Akane and Hanzo (even if it’s very recent), none of them were expected yet they mesh so freakin well together? They all give me so many feels, between happiness and angst, it’s just amazing to me how they all fit so well and are all so wholesome in their own way? Despite the hardships they all go through, they’re all very respectful to one another and constantly support each other. And I love how they developed as we wrote them, how natural they feel despite their unusual dispositions. And believe me Kathy, you have no reason to feel insecure about your ideas: they’re always so well thought out and fun. And you know me, I’m chill as can be: I’m always willing to try new things!

And omg… thank you so so so much for your compliment about Becky. It means the world to me, because she’s so important to me and there are times when I lack some confidence in that department, but your enthusiasm toward her has certainly helped me better myself and by proxy, has helped her. I’ve been writing her for five years and I can confidently say that I’ve been having so much fun writing her with you no matter the verse. Like I told you before, I hadn’t lost muse entirely, and I would never, not after five years of writing her, but you’ve most definitely helped bring that spark back. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

I’m so glad you’ve grown more confident, especially with your incredible and excellent writing. Your headcanons are always top notch! I don’t know how you do it because I feel like I can never come up with proper headcanons no matter how much I try lol But you’re always impressing me whenever you post something new. They’re just SO GOOD. I’ve really enjoyed talking with you everyday, and tbh, you’ve helped me through the rougher times, especially the last couple of months. You’ve proven to me that there are still good people out there on this hellsite despite what I went through earlier this year. And for that I thank you. The chemistry we share both IC and OOC is a connection I cherish greatly.

Thank you for such compliments. It means a lot coming from you considering how beautiful your dialogues always are – as are all your inner descriptions of your character’s psyche. I’m constantly blown away by how you make everything come across so well, how it flows so effortlessly. How do you even come up with all these incredible descriptions and inner reflections? I’m so glad you like my graphics and art, because it’s all so much fun to work on, and it’s well deserved to you for being such a good friend to me. Thank you for being so amazing to me, for listening to me, for being such a good friend. I’m sure I’m rambling too, but while 2019 was a difficult year, it brought me some good things, and one of those good things is most certainly your presence in my life.

I’m looking forward to this ever lasting friendship. You’re my ride and die and I cherish the heckie out of you! Thank you again! AND REMEMBER THAT ILY!

[kassverse2eletricboogaloo]

The Battle For Subcon Ch 1

(This is my first AHIT Fanfiction! So far i'm having a lot of fun writing again. As it's been awhile. I hope I'm doing well with it! And look, I did that fanfiction idea! Oh! And that cover art is mine!)

Chapter 1: Vacation time!

Hat Kid swiveled in her little chair. Scanning the galaxy. It's barren expanse sneering back. When she was younger her dreams consisted of only the hope to see the stars. She didn't ever think of what would happen when she got there. But she never imagined it like this. It never seemed good enough. Hat Kid deeply longed for some change.

There was no fun among the stars. Sure, it was pretty. Many people would dream of seeing it for themselves (just like she had herself), but now this was a daily occurrence. Like waiting for ages to see a movie, loving it, and then not wanting to see it again. There was not going to be any surprises. You'd know what was about to happen. It was always going to be that way. Nothing ever changed in the movie. A set pathway, much like fate and time.

She didn't realize how much she needed that mafia to break open her window. She had really needed the thrill. It had been 6 whole months since that happened. 4 and a half since she was last on the planet when dealing with the Nyakuza. Which she still regarded as one of her most exciting adventures.

At this point she felt terrible for not returning. She didn't even bother to visit! Who did that!? Her bestest best friends where down there. She didn't even send a card! Space mail existed, though she didn't think the planet had a proper postal code. But even if! She usually went by the planet! How could one day really put her off schedule? Did the job or schedule mean that much?! Hat Kid sighed after her little rant. They may have tried to kill her at one point, but that's what friends do!

She wasn't without reason though. Hat Kid did have a job to do. As a professional space explorer, her job was to visit the outer rim and find new life. After mapping and exploring a few planets, she'd return with her data and relics and then head back to where she left off. . . Which always would go by the plant. Aug!

But this time was different! Hat Kid was on vacation! She could actually go and have fun again! And oh boy did she know where she'd go! Hat Kid pressed a few buttons on her control panel and set the coordinates.

"MAFIA TOWN HERE I COME!" The excited child shouted with glee.

This would be the best vacation yet! She was sure of it! Arepping the ship, Hat Kid pushed it into fill throtal. The engine humming as it blasted into hyper speed. The little alien smiled and jumped off her captians chair. Running to the telescope she used when she first went to Mafia Town. Adrenaline rushing at the thought of seeing everyone again.

Finally! After three whole hours of bouncing up and down, coming up with things to do, and thinking of what she'd say as an apology for her unceremonious departure , the ship halted. It was finally time! Hat Kid pounced at the telescope. So excited she hit her head by accident. HK stumbled and rubbed the spot where it hit her. Quite mad that she couldn't hold in her energy. The alien teleported down to the planet. Down to exactly where she first arrived on the planet. The streets of Mafia Town!

The kids nose picked up on the scent of warm garbage. Jeez, they never cleaned did they? Not only that, she caught dirt on her shirt! C'mon! She'd have to clean that later. Hat Kid acrually forgot how gross this place could be. The small child jogged into town. Desperate to get out of that alley way and to the slightly cleaner street.

She saw Mafia going about their days as usual. A few waving to her as she passed. One offering a game of patty cake. Though Hat Kid wasn't falling for that again! Another Mafia with funny sunglasses was freaking out after the sudden appearance of her space ship.

"Oi, what are YOU doing back here?" Stammered a voice from above. A hint of annoyance in its tone.

Hat Kid smiled. A girl in a read hood lept down from her perch. Standing in front of Hat Kid, the girl looked a bit upset. Super tired too, it seemed. Bags forming under her eyes.

"Did I miss much?" The little hatted child asked in concern. Her "friend", Mustache Girl, wasn't as happy as she hoped.

"Oh a fair bit! You missed everything!" The mustached menace cried "That blasted Mafia Boss disappeared! And the Mafia are growing in numbers! Yet somehow there even better at thwarting me!" Mustache Girl's temper and frustration flaring. Her voice speeding up into a ramble. It was Hat Kid's fault she didn't stop all the bad guys!

Somehow the Mafia where getting MORE coordinated. And less would dissappear when visiting other places on the planet! Mustache Girl couldn't help but wonder what they where doing. They weren't even doing anything differently! They hadn't been getting any smarter. Was she doing something wrong? This little hatted hourglass hoarder probably knew everything!

"It's not like you helped! You where probably in on it weren't you?! You barely help with anything!!" Mustache Girl shouted.

That was a tad hurtful for the first few minutes back, Hat Kid thought.

"Is Cooking Cat still around?" She pondered.

"Who?" Mustache Girl asked quizzically.

"I guess not." HK responded, not worried. "I'll see you later friend!" She beamed. Getting a grunt in response. With that, she teleported back to base.

Though confused, Hat Kid wasn't very scared. Weirder things could have happen. The Mafia Boss was still in a jar, and for all anyone knew he was only misplaced. So it's not like she had much to worry about. Even if he had somehow found a way to "fix the Mafia". She also wasn't worried for Cooking Cat. Who's cooking know how could probably end entire wars!

Hat Kid ran to the Machine Room next. Missing the rumbustious Conductor and the quixotic DJ! She was sure they'd miss her too. They always seemed to like having her around, even if The Conductor tried to stab her. Maybe they would allow her to star in movies again! Readying her trusty telescope, she was off once more. To DEAD BIRD STUDIOS!

(Sorry I didn't write longer! I'll get to the story's true plot soon enough! I'm quite insecure about my writing abilities. So if you see anything I did wrong and didn't pick up on, I strongly recommend you mention it. It'd be a great help! Anyway, have a good day!)

[hymn2000]

In A Semi-Conscious State - MCU AU mini fic for theallpowerfulone

@theallpowerfulone requested/said: I really want some angst because I'm ill and I need to focus on something. Like what if Loki gets so tired (flare up) that he just straight up collapses in front of Peter and Peter hasn't dealt with this fully before so he just freaks until Tony comes to sort everything out. Bonus if Tony switches between personalities (Omg Peter he just needs rest to come on darling up you get to bed). 

Part of my frostiron and spiderson series. Title taken from ‘Grey Day’ by Madness (incredible, me actually telling people for once).

Word count: 1669

Warnings/themes: illness, hurt/comfort, family stuff, sickfic

You can also find me on AO3

-

Loki blinked slowly at the rambling teenager in front of him. He’d been feeling a little fuzzy for a few days now, and today it was getting increasingly difficult to listen to what Peter was saying. 

“Peter, you need to slow down”

“Ok, ok, but I’m excited! So, after we’d finished taking down-”

Loki put a hand on a nearby cabinet to steady himself. As much as he loved his son, he couldn’t always keep up with him, especially when he was bordering on another bad M.E flare-up. He could hear Peter’s voice, but he couldn’t seem to decipher what he was saying properly. He knew he was excited, and pleased about something. He was doing his little-kiddie thing, bouncing on the balls of his feet and standing barely a foot in front of him, so he was in danger of accidentally being headbutted in the mouth. 

“Darling, please...” Loki said, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You’ve lost me. Why don’t you go and tell your father?”

“Huh? Why would I need to tell him? He was there!” Peter said.

“Sorry? Oh yes, of course” Loki sighed. “Sorry darling, you’ll have to fill me in another time”

Peter finally stopped, taking a little step back and taking a proper look at his father. 

“Daddy? Do you need to go to bed?”

“Mmm... I think I’m ok”

“Did you stay up late last night or something? Because dad says-”

Peter was off on another tangent. Harmless as it was, Loki found it tiring. He felt weird: sick. Foggy, and tired. He felt dizzy, so incredibly dizzy, and weak, with that horrible hollow feeling in his limbs and stomach. He tried to focus on Peter, but he couldn’t. All he could think about was this horrible, oh-so-familiar, but somehow worse than usual feeling. He could feel his hand sweating against the wood of the cabinet. The back of his neck felt cold. That horrible wobbly feeling hit his knees, exacerbated by his already trembling body, and that proved to be the tipping point. 

“Daddy?! Daddy!” Peter cried out as his father collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud. He knelt down beside him, looking him over frantically. “Daddy?!”

Loki slowly opened his eyes. Everything looked and sounded fuzzy. He had a new pain now, where he’d hit his head on the cabinet as he’d fallen. He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. He made no effort to move.

“Daddy?! Oh daddy, I don’t know what to do!” Peter burst into tears, trembling and trying hard not to panic. “I-I’ll go and get other daddy; he’ll know what to do”

-

Tony jumped a little when Peter came rushing into the kitchen, tears pouring down his face, trembling all over.

“Peter?! What’s up?”

“Daddy... There’s something wrong with daddy!” Peter sobbed.

Tony sighed heavily. “For God’s sake Peter, don’t be such a drama queen. He’s been on his way to flare-up town for days now: he just hasn’t admitted it yet. Stop crying. He just needs to rest”

Peter just kept crying. He could hardly speak. One minute he’d been recounting his morning, and the next minute, his dad had gone deathly pale and fallen to the floor. Loki needed help, and fast.

“Peter, calm down” Tony said. “I know you don’t like it when he’s poorly, but-”

“He needs help!” Peter cried out, grabbing Tony’s arm. “He fell!” 

“What?! Why didn’t you say so?!” Tony stood up quickly, his whole mood changing.

Peter was too busy sobbing to reply. Tony grabbed Peter by the shoulders.

“Where is he?”

-

Tony left Peter crying on the sidelines while he tended to his husband.

“Oh Loki, you stubborn bastard. Why didn’t you just give in?” Tony said sadly, helping him to sit up. “Have you hurt yourself?”

“...I don’t think so” Loki mumbled, rubbing his head. “I don’t really know what happened...”

“You reached your limit, that’s what happened” Tony said, kissing him gently on the forehead, where quite the bump was forming. “Come on darling; let’s get you up and into bed”

Loki didn’t move. He knew he’d pushed himself, and it hadn’t paid off. He felt awful, so fuzzy and distant that he wasn’t sure what was real and what was not. 

“Come on. In your own time, chick”

Loki let Tony help him up, although he was very wobbly on his feet, and he had to lean heavily on Tony.

“You’re ok; I’ve got you. Bedtime”

-

Tony shook his head at Loki as he sat him down on the bed.

“You’ll be the death of me, Lolly, you really will” he said. “You need to admit defeat much earlier than this. You’re doing yourself no favours”

“I know... I just like putting it off for as long as possible”

“You know it doesn’t work like that, Loll” Tony said, slipping Loki’s shirt off. “You’re pretty warm. Let’s at least ward off another overheating episode. Get your trousers off”

Loki did as he was told. Tony pressed a glass of water into his hand.

“Get that down you” 

Loki drunk steadily. He hadn’t realised he was thirsty until he’d put the glass to his lips. He always found when he was ill, Tony knew him better than he knew himself. Tony kissed him gently on the cheek and took the empty glass from him once he’d finished.

“Peter...”

“He’s fine” Tony said firmly. “Just worry about yourself for now. I’ll make sure you’ve got plenty to drink in here. I’ll let you sleep until tea, and then I’ll wake you up for food, even if you bite my head off for doing so. We’ll get you better; just give it a few days. Now, come on. Lie down”

Loki pushed the covers back and did as he was asked. He settled against the pillows, feeling like he was going to sink right through them. He reached out and found his pig, tucking it under his arm with its snout over his shoulder so he could rest his head on it. 

“Poor old Lolly” Tony said, kissing him gently and running his fingers through his hair. “I love you. Let’s focus on getting you better, ok?”

“I'll do my best...” Loki mumbled, letting his eyes close, soothed by the feeling of Tony’s hands in his hair. He took a deep breath. “I love you too”

-

Once Loki was asleep, and Tony was happy that he wasn’t in danger of overheating or being woken unnecessarily, he went to track down Peter.

He found him curled up in the reading nook, sobbing into his hands. 

“Oh sweetheart” Tony sighed, sitting down beside him. “What are you still crying for?”

“I’m upset” Peter whimpered. “He just collapsed and I couldn’t do anything to help him! I didn’t know what to do!”

“Hey, don’t look at it that way” Tony said, putting an arm round the boys shoulders. “You came and got me. That was the right thing to do”

“There wasn’t even any real warning; he just went! It all happened so fast, but like it was in slow motion too! I-”

“You need to calm down. Breathe, Peter. Just breathe” Tony said, resting his head against Peter’s. “Daddy is fine. You couldn’t’ve prevented it and there was nothing you could have done other than get me, which you did. It’s not your job to look after him: it’s his job to look after you. Don’t go turning this into role reversal. It’s just his illness, you know how it is”

Peter turned and buried his face in Tony’s shoulder. Tony hugged him close, rubbing his back firmly.

“You’ve never seen him collapse like that before, have you?”

Peter lifted his head to shake it, and then resumed his position, crying into Tony’s shirt.

“I know it’s scary. You must’ve been terrified. Heck, you were shaking like anything when you came into the kitchen. I should’ve known something had happened straight away” he kissed him on the cheek. “Daddy’s absolutely fine; just knocked out with the M.E again. Don’t you go worrying your little head over it, chick. Just give it a few days and he’ll be back to his usual self”

“I was scared”

“I know” Tony held him tighter. “Shh. There now, settle down. Everything is totally fine”

“I want daddy”

“Best to leave him alone for now” Tony said. “Wait until he’s had a bit of a rest”

Peter understood. He focused on calming down, helped along by Tony’s soothing words and the secure feeling of his arms around him. Soon enough, he stopped crying, but stayed settled against his father’s chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating.

“There we are” Tony said gently. “Good boy”

Peter stayed quiet. Eventually Tony loosened his grip and put a little distance between himself and the boy.

“You know, the first time I saw it happen, I was so scared I nearly called an ambulance. It just came out of nowhere, caught me totally off-guard” he admitted. “I know what to do now, so it’s easier. Your father’s just a stubborn old git who doesn’t like admitting defeat, especially against himself. We’ll work on making him give in to his flare-ups. They’re generally shorter when he doesn’t fight them” 

“He was supposed to be going to the hospital tomorrow”

“I know. I’ll ring them later and let them know he’s taken a trip to Flare-Ups Ville Arizona, population Loki”

Peter smiled at his little joke, although it wasn’t especially funny. 

“Ah, there’s that smile! That’s what I like to see” Tony grinned, and kissed him on the nose. “How about me and you doing something together now? We’ve got that victory to celebrate, after all!”

Peter nodded. “Ok. What do you want to do?”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

Peter thought for a moment. He looked at Tony. Tony looked back.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

“Chinese takeaway in the lab?”

Tony grinned. “I’ll get the menu”

*

[shockwrites]

Starstruck

Author’s Note: I forget that I write sfw stuff sometimes

Series: League of Legends

Pairing: Luxanna Crownguard/Ezreal

Length: 2042

Rating: Safe

Lux was setting a bad example for the others.

Prim and proper Luxanna, leader of the Star Guardians, sneaking out past curfew? And on a school night??

She could already feel herself rolling her eyes at Jinx’s sarcasm, probably using Lux’s little felony as a get-out-of-jail-free card for when next she’ll no doubt do something…Jinx-like.

Lux sighed, nervously straightening her hair. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she asked Ezreal to meet her out in the woods that night. For whatever reason, she didn’t expect him to say yes. Why was she so surprised that he said yes? He was a Star Guardian like her. He’s expressed some interest in her too…hasn’t he? The occasional wave whenever he saw her, the corny jokes he’d tell her (that she would never admit to Jinx that she found funny), the way he’d listen to her attentively as she talked, not once taking her eyes off of her.

Maybe she was blowing this out of proportion…

He’s on a different team for stars’ sake! Ahri’s platoon wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with Lux’s. How did she know Ezreal wasn’t playing her for a fool? How did she know he wasn’t-“

“-running late!”

Exhausted panting and mild chuckles snapped Lux’s rambling brain back to reality. “Ez!” She yelled a bit too eagerly. “Y-You made it! Cool!” Question: what kind of numbskull talks like that?

“Yeah sorry,” Ezreal huffed, bent over in exasperation. His light blonde hair was disheveled slightly and his clothes were a mess, probably haphazardly thrown on last minute. That is absolutely illegal. His hair has zero permission to be that perfect. I call blasphemy. “Getting past Sarah’s not the easiest task.”

Lux’s mind raced back to Sarah Fortune’s intense, and quite frankly terrifying, glare. The standoffish Star Guardian must have been a real barrel of fun to room with. “I can imagine.”

Much to the dismay of her brain, Lux’s eyes couldn’t help but trace over the ruffled teenager before her. She recognized his sleeveless white and blue jersey that he usually wore. Probably one of his favorites. His ripped jeans were worn from misuse as if he traveled everywhere in them. He had that sort of explorer vibe to him. Ezreal always seemed to have a daring gleam in his eyes, like he was constantly ready to let his curiosity take the wheel and set him on a path to adventure.

Adventure…

Perhaps that’s what set him on the path of being a Star Guardian. Adventure was certainly one term one could use to describe their roles in the universe. Lux, on the other hand, had different terms: a burden, a duty, a trial even to name a few. Ezreal stood out from the rest of his team. He wasn’t hot-headed like Miss Fortune, or aloof like Syndra. He had a boyish charm about him. Something that reminded her that she was still a dumb teenager doing dumb teenage things. Things like texting, going to the mall, talking about boys…looking at boys…talking to boys…kissing boys…

Fu-

“Lux?”

It took the pink haired galaxy heroine a disturbing amount of time to realize she spent some odd minutes wordlessly ogling at Ezreal’s face like she was trying to win the world’s most uncomfortable staring contest.

“Wuhuh?” By the stars, could you stop being embarrassing for 2 minutes? Please?? “Oh-Oh sorry! Just a little, uhh…distracted! Just y’know, you look really…cute tonight.”

Ezreal’s cheeks reddened at her comment. He scratched the back of his head, visibly embarrassed. Lux wasn’t expecting that.

Oh stars, Ez, all of that handsome is going to kill me before the void even comes close.

“So, uh, Lux…you said you wanted to show me something?” He scratched the back of his neck casually. His eyes ran around the quiet atmosphere of the forest. “At night? In the middle of the woods?”

“Right! Yeah, I absolutely did want to show you something!”

Beat

I’m doing the finger pistols, aren’t I? “Follow me.”

The walk through the forest was quiet yet thankfully less awkward than before. Ez seemed more preoccupied with his surroundings. His inquisitive force of habit. Lux thanked the benevolent deities in the galaxy that he didn’t ditch her for a rock.

He wouldn’t ditch her for a rock, right?

Surely Lux wasn’t that uninteresting. She did fun things! Thinks like reading! And doing homework!

…

…………

I’m gonna die alone in a ditch, I swe-EEEARHH!!

A leader of planet protecting super soldiers must always be ready for the unexpected, a rule that Lux learned early on in her career.

A shame that rule never mentioned anything about vicious foot tripping branches.

As poor Lux planted face first into the dirt, Jinx’s distinct snorting laughter rang in her ears. Forget dying in a ditch, she was going to be the only one in the cemetery at this point. Lux could already read her tombstone; “Here lies Luxanna: A Forgotten Embarrassment. May the Stars have mercy on her poorly led team.”

She wanted to be surprised when Ezreal extended a hand to her. She would’ve been absolutely floored if any the rest of his team did anything of the sort if they had witnessed such a shameful display from a Star Guardian. How thankful was she that Ezreal wasn’t anything like them.

“You alright?” He asked. Lux didn’t know why such a little detail such as his genuine concern for her would leave a warm feeling in her chest.

“Yeah, dandy.” She replied, wiping the dirt from her shirt. “It only hurt my face…and pride.”

“It should, that was pathetic.”

Her face dropped faster than a comet. “W-what?”

Ez went down on to a knee while her brain was still processing what was said. “You wanna talk about falls, lemme show you one of mine.” He bunched up the leg of his jeans, directing her attention to a faded mark on his knee. Lux breathed in sharply once she saw the size of it; angled just above his kneecap. Instinctively, Lux rubbed her own knee in response, almost feeling the phantom pain from the wound herself. “Tripped down a flight of stairs a while back. You should’ve seen it, my teeth couldn’t stop chattering for a whole minute because my chin got decked so many times.” Ez chuckled like he was reminiscing a fond memory. “You know, I could still hear Syndra laughing at me.”

“Oh no!” Lux gasped in sympathy. “Were you ok?”

Ezreal’s finger lightly brushed along the scar. “Walking was a bit of a challenge. Nothing a cast couldn’t fix. Hope I’ll never be that bored sitting on my thumbs ever again.” Lux was blessed to see that relaxed smile of his. “The point is if you ever get embarrassed tripping on a branch or something, always remember the mental image of my face getting body-checked by like a million steps.”

Lux couldn’t stop herself from snickering. Something about that jovial sense of humor relaxed her. “C’mon, it’s just a little farther.”

Lux led them to a wide clearing within the forest overlooking a cliff. The far-off lights of the city shined from the distance, illuminating the clearing along with the glow of the moonlight and beautiful stars watching over them. Lux smiled. The sight of the inky night sky decorated with the reddish tint of the gorgeous nebulae entranced her, more than it should for someone such as her. It was nothing new to the Star Guardians.

“This,” Lux said, glancing back at Ezreal. “I uhh…wanted to show you this spot.” It was difficult for her to read his face. He analyzed the scenery intently, his eyes almost searching for something in the galactic abyss of stars. Lux’s heart dropped for the umpteenth time. A lump formed in her throat when he didn’t respond right away. Was he expecting something different? She must have been boring him for sure! What was she thinking? He was sure to have seen a million sights better than this! “U-umm…I just thought that uhh,” Come on Lux, use your words. “I thought it was…pretty.” I MEANT BETTER WORDS.

“I think it’s-”

“I know! It’s lame!” Lux blurted. “I wasn’t thinking!” She rambled. “We spend like 80 percent of our time in space! I just wanted to show you this little spot because I come here a lot and-and-”

“Actually, I think it’s pretty too.”

Ez didn’t stop marveling at the sight. He took a few steps forward, stopping just at the edge of the cliff before sitting down. Lux, still in disbelief, slowly joined him. “You know what’s weird?” He asked. “It’s amazingly easy to forget the Star in Star Guardians.”

Lux blinked. “What do you mean?”

Still mesmerized, he looked back at her. “We never take a minute to really experience what we…you know, guard.” Ez rubbed the back of his head. “Not sure if I’m making sense…”

His words buzzed in her mind. In her short time defending the planet, her team hadn’t stopped once to take in the fact that they were spacefaring superheroes. It would be easy to think that staring at a starry night sky after flying through it effortlessly would be underwhelming. Why stop and look when they’re already part of your job? Not Lux, however. And thankfully, not Ez.

“No, I get it.” Lux approached him, seating herself next to him atop the cliff. She felt her cheeks heat up when it dawned on her that she hadn’t been this close to his face before.

Seeing his blonde and teal colored locks this up close sent a certain heat to her cheeks. She really hadn’t been this up close before. Was she being weird? He wasn’t paying attention anything other than the stars.

“They say that we’re protectors.” He continued. “I think maybe I wanna get a little taste of what we’re protecting.”

Lux’s arm acted out of its own free will, looking to take advantage of Ezreal’s unsuspecting hand. She was unable to tell if he had registered her fingers wrapping around his palm. He seemed so…relaxed. The tranquil air reached her as well. Moments passed. Time passed the two teenagers by as the wordlessly enjoyed the peaceful shine of the moon.

The unthinkable occurred. Lux’s eyes widened in response to the sudden weight falling on her shoulder. Her thoughts were abuzz attempting to concoct a myriad of outlandish explanations as to why something soft and comfortable had taken up residence on her arm. Star’s forbid that a certain blonde demigod space warrior knight was legitimately pulling a romance novel cliché on her, less her face swell with the amount of blood flowing to her cheeks.

“Ez?”

There was no response. Only slow, light breathing, followed by a sound Lux was quite familiar with after sharing a room with Jinx.

Leave it to Star Guardian, Ez, to make even snoring attractive.

Ezreal slumped onto Lux’s shoulder, all but completely knocked out. He seemed so upbeat and attentive not seconds ago. Lux glanced at her phone, seeing that it was already quarter-to-one in the morning. They both had their respective dorms to go back to, especially considering the two guardians had a full day of school to look forward to, running on – what? Five hours of sleep?

Lux wanted to find the power to wake him up so they could awkwardly ignore the fact that they were a stone’s throw away from essentially cuddling themselves to sleep. Yet, unsurprisingly, she couldn’t. She could kill malicious void monstrosities from other planets but Luxana Crownguard was unable to resist the tempting enticements of a romantic embrace under the stars with a boy.

So she didn’t.

It wasn’t long before the drowsiness made Lux’s eyelids ten times heavier. She let herself plop onto the now pillowy soft grass, leaving Ezreal to comfortably use her an impromptu pillow. Lux thought to set the alarm on her phone, to not turn the next a.m. into a stress-addled mad dash of a morning rush. Her (soon to be un)conscious mind decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. They were both still Star Guardians. Surely the measly morning rush couldn’t be that much of a challenge.

…

……………..

Eyes cracking open in a cold sweat, Lux set her alarm to full volume.