#his siblings meanwhile would need a week to process this but will get mostly a few hours AT BEST

[randomwriteronline]

"Where are we going, brother?"

Pohatu doesn't answer. He keeps walking with his hand on the wall, quicker than all of them; every now and then he knocks gently on it.

There are no Rahkshi down here, no Exo-Toa or Rahi or anything. It's a tunnel that from the colosseum leads into some kind of pipe system different from the sprawling Archives, but equally as labyrinthine. Pohatu walks through it easily, knowing the general direction towards which they're going - that being, towards the Turaga, whom he sent on their own way to safety when Teridax's universe-wide attack unfolded before their powerless eyes. They'll take longer to show up where the Toa will meet them, but he knows they're a crafty lot: they'll have no trouble evading whatever might try to get them.

When asked how he's so familiar with this hidden piece of Metru Nui, he shrugged. He went for a long run all over the city on his first visit, he answered truthfully, and even when he did not add anything after the others were perfectly satisfied and did not insist with questions, because it's only natural for him to want to explore every nook and cranny of a place at maximum speed.

And because he is still on edge.

He hasn't blown up at them since they tried to ask him where he has been for one hundred thousand years, but he still flinches harshly to get their hands off of himself when they try to touch him, and he still looks at them angrily, and sometimes he still growls.

Takanuva hits his head on the ceiling and groans. His mask's silvery light stutters.

"Careful, little brother," Pohatu tells him with his normal, playful, gentle voice that lately he uses only for him, their younger siblings, and the Matoran: "That's the fifth time you try to break a hole through the tunnel."

"It's not like I'm trying," Takanuva mutters back.

"Maybe you should start shortening again?" the Toa of Stone jokes like he refuses to do with his siblings since meeting them at the Codrex. "Can't be too hard - try pulling your limbs real tight to your chest, for a start."

"And how would you suppose I'd walk, then?"

"You'll roll!"

The Av-Toa laughs a little.

He stops when the others don't join in, and his eyes ask them what makes them so uncomfortable. Gali shifts her shoulders.

Silence sits upon them like a vulture.

The color of the viaduct changes at last. Pohatu quickens his steps to build some distance between him and his siblings, awfully focused. He knocks once, then again: a high pitched hum leaves him as he stops dead in his tracks and faces the wall - his tone is indiscernible, incomprehensible, either flat or interested or something else entirely.

"What did you find, Pohatu?" Tahu asks loudly as the rest of them hurry closer.

His brother turns to him with an empty gaze and no answer.

The back of his head hurts.

And his spine, and his arms, and his legs, and his chest, and his hips, and every single minuscule atom of his entire body as it crashes against its brethren until he can barely breathe or think while the anguish lights his nerves like a wild fire raging through the forest on an impossibly dry day with a cruel hot wind that howls too strong.

The sound comes to his audio receptors later - a terrifying impact, as loud as an explosion. He turns his head, what was that? An ambush? Where did it come from? Where are his siblings?

He counts their masks in a dim light, blotches of color in his muddled vision: black, white, blue, green, red with him. He reaches for his Hau and finds his hand unable to move - is it broken? When he tries to look down his chin encounters resistance and he fails to recognize anything. Five out of seven. Five out of seven... His body hurts. Why does it hurt? Five out of seven...

A strangled grunt catches his attention.

Pohatu struggles hoisting Takanuva, who does not move, in his arms while also holding a small lightstone to see anything in this dark.

Frustrated, he lets the stone fall to the ground: "I've got you, little brother," he reassures his unconscious sibling as he plucks the Mask of Light from his face (why does he take the Mask of Light from his face?) and slips his arms around his torso, trying to lift him. "Oof - damn it all, you're so heavy now - see, that's another reason you shouldn't have been allowed to pick that cursed mask up, if you were still a Matoran this whole thing would be much easier..."

"Pohatu!" Lewa cries, panicked. "Pohatu! Are you alright?"

"Of course I am," their brother replies.

"We're trapped! Stuck!"

"I can see that."

Are they trapped? Are they -

His arms groan from the strain of being squeezed too tight and pain shoots into his eyes, burning his field of vision into scalding white. It relents slowly, leaving him winded, and as he collects himself he realizes: the opposite wall, the one Pohatu was inspecting, has lunged towards them and trapped them against its twin.

Ambush. An ambush. His body hurts. It was an ambush. His body hurts. It hurts so much he can't concentrate.

Onua chokes on what would be a shout for a few horrible seconds before heaving hard when the pressure finally eases up on him and spares him from being crushed.

What is doing this? A Rahkshi? Must be a Rahkshi. It must be.

His body hurts so much.

"Stone," he hears Kopaka breathe, "It's stone."

Stone. It's stone... So? A renegade Toa? A mutated kraata? Tahu strains to listen. No, there is no sound here: only his siblings hissing in pain as their frames are pressed and Pohatu grunting as he finally manages to secure at least the upper half of Takanuva on himself and off the ground.

Oh. Oh - oh, it's stone. It's stone! Oh, thank Mata Nui, it's stone.

Destiny decided they can be lucky for once.

"Pohatu!" he cries through gritted teeth while his chest is constricted tightly, "Pohatu - the walls, they're, it's stone - hurry, please, get it off of us!"

The answer he gets is flat, deadpan: "That'd be counterproductive."

"What?" Gali responds immediately, panic stirring around her heartlight like a whirpool - this feels too much like their confrontation, that strange feeling of wrong overwhelming in his neutral tone: "What do you mean? Pohatu-!"

Her voice cuts off with a painful whine as the rock clenches around her tight enough to make her armor creak around her limbs.

Pohatu ignores her.

They call for him multiple times. Over and over. As best as they can through the strain put on their bodies that almost drives them mad with anguish.

In the dim light their brother takes his time.

They watch him will a seat out of a portion of the wall, placing Takanuva down upon it; his masked forehead laid on his little brother's, the Avokhii in his hand (why is the Avokhii in his hand?) disappearing from sight as it is slipped away on his person, he murmurs something to the Toa of Light with a gentle tone, a comforting tone, while he holds his limp hand. His eyes extend none of that gentleness to his siblings when he turns to them.

"So!"

The wall presses hard against their bodies for a single second: pain lances through them like a downpour of spears and rips the voices out of the five of them in a swift cruel move.

Pohatu gingerly walks to stand upon their prison, twisting the lightstone in his hand, casting terrible almost tangible shadows all across the claustrophobic space as the light struggles to escape through the gaps in his fingers.

"If all goes well you'll be rotting here for, oh, roughly the rest of eternity, and I'll never have to see any of you again," he tells them almost casually as he towers over them, though there is a deep poison drooling out of his mouth. His blue visor gleams terribly, his eyes looking just as blue and cold and hard behind it: "So I guess it's as good a time as any for a little story."

He bends to look at them closer, just for a moment. In the dark, it's hard to tell his expression.

He rises again to stretch with a groan: the stone moves as malleable as fabric to meet him when he leans back, sitting himself down comfortably upon it, and he slumps forward to prop his chin in his palms as though he was looking at something so very curious.

The arrows of light from his hand carve deep lines into his mask.

"In the time before time Artakha made six Toa to protect the Great Spirit and the Av-Matoran, but that's the part that you know already," he continues as they can only stare at him, too stunned, too in pain: "You know it all up to the point where the five brave Toa go into their safe ball at the bottom of the swamp and take a nice long nap while everything around them gets destroyed. So the question is, whatever happened to the dirt one?"

His head shifts suddenly.

Tahu feels his eyes slowly digging holes into his own.

"By the way, I'm almost touched you remembered my element this time," Pohatu tells him. His voice is quiet, between a stage whisper and a real one. "Only took four to five near death experiences."

He wants to snap at him.

He wants to thrash and snarl and demand what is wrong with him.

He wants to open his mouth and speak to him.

He wants to ask him what is going on.

He wants to reach out and grab him and hold him still, and beg him to explain, and speak in a calm voice to him until everything is fixed.

He barely manages to breathe.

Pohatu holds his gaze a little longer. He blinks, and cranes his neck away from him with a sighed hum - it's so dark his expression can't be seen but the movement seems almost bored - and taps on the side of his mask with his fingers: the lightstone peeks from between them at strangled intervals.

He observes them struggle to adjust to the changes in lighting uselessly, as they are first offered bursts of brightness and then plunged back into darkness after mere seconds.

He is toying with them.

This is not Pohatu.

This cannot be Pohatu.

"I stayed in Karda Nui. I tried to evacuate the last Matoran before the energy storm swallowed them. I managed a few. I failed most of them. It was a job for six Toa, but I couldn't really hope five of them would materialize out of thin air just because they were needed."

He breaks into a short chuckle. It's a softer version of his usual booming laughter. It sputters poison all over them.

"And it's not like you would have made any difference if you'd stayed - you're barely even Toa to begin with."

This cannot be Pohatu.

This is not Pohatu.

This is a fake.

This has to be a fake.

When did they lose him? When could he have been replaced? They never lost sight of him in these tunnels, it must have been earlier. In the Colosseum? As they were returning to Metru Nui? Before escaping Karda Nui? Before he met them at the Codrex? He had mentioned it briefly, had said he had met a big bugger - a Makuta? A kraata? A shadow leech? Something else? Where is he now? Where is their brother? Where are they keeping him? Is he alive? Is he... He can't be, he can't! They can't have killed him! Unless they trapped him in Karda Nui... With the Makuta... And the storm... No, no, no, Pohatu is smart, Pohatu is quick, he can't have died there, he must have escaped. He must have escaped, and he must have made his way to Metru Nui, or maybe somewhere else safe, and he's looking for them, or planning a way to blow up Teridax while keeping the universe unharmed, or maybe he's been captured again and he's being hurt or tortured or killed and he's worried for them, maybe, maybe, maybe...

"And you'd planned to leave me to die anyways," he shrugs.

"No!" Lewa chokes out. He recoils, he shifts, he tries to twist in his prison, to break out, and treespeak spills out of him faster than he can give any of it sense.

Not like he is given much time to try to.

Halfway along his attempt at something (an appeal? An explanation? A curse? An apology?) a wail cuts him off together with a searing pain. What little light washes over him is enough to see how the rock ensnaring him wraps around his head to shut his mouth in a tight, tight, tight grip, his mask almost crushed within: the rest of his body, likely, is suffering something similar.

Pohatu waits patiently until his whimpering dies down - until he himself decides to relent the pressure a little.

"I thought you were interested in this story," he says as he tilts his head. His brother struggles to breathe through the stone binding his mouth as he gives him a desperate look: the Toa of Stone remains unbothered. "You even made me heartpromise to tell you," and his tone is sneering when he mentions the word, "So why are you interrupting me now? Am I boring you? Are you bored? Should I stop? I can stop. I have other things to do."

Lewa's inarticulate whines sound like sobs, but can't answer.

Pohatu stretches his legs: "Alright then! Saves me time."

"Wait," Onua rasps. He struggles to speak while his lungs are compressed, limiting how much air he's allowed to inhale. "Wait. Please. Where... How... How... The storm... You... Survived..."

"Evidently I did, if I'm here," his brother replies. "Even if you think it's a real shame I didn't get vaporized."

"Don't... We don'... Don'... Please... Please... Breathe... Can't... Please..."

No answer.

Breathing gets harder.

He can't see.

He can't see.

He can't see.

He's going to faint.

He's going to faint.

He's going to...

Going to...

Going...

To...

Finally the pressure leaves.

He gasps noisily, greedily, exhausted.

Pohatu watches him like he's a disgusting squirming krana, struggling to writhe to safety as it lays on marshy ground.

"But yes," he continues softly. "I am here because I did escape. When I couldn't hope to bring any more little siblings to safety, and I couldn't hear their screams over the crackling of the storm, I followed your example and ran away. Then the Makuta found me, and took pity on me - isn't that funny? The Makuta, taking pity on something? Something as weak and useless as me? - and they kept me in their brotherhood. And the were all so very nice to me, like you've been ever since you couldn't remember how you used to think of me, for a few hundred years or so, before they got bored of such a sad sack of gravel and left me to rot outside of their laboratories."

There are so many things wrong in what he says.

So many, all at once.

The faint light illuminates a smile beneath his mask - a small, honest, deeply fond smile: "Except Teridax, of course."

Fire rises beneath Tahu's armor.

"What did he do to you?"

Pohatu looks at him almost surprised.

"What did he do to you?" the Toa of Fire repeats, louder, more insistent. It's so clear now. The deception, the bitterness, the harshness, all of this - if this is truly their brother, who else but Makuta Teridax could turn him against them in such a cruel way, so thoroughly convince him they hate him?

He can't see her, so much does rage narrow his vision, but he hears Gali's voice: "Pohatu," and it shakes a little with his same anger, even if the only thing she can say is their brother's name, unable even to demand of his what she wants to know, because what else is there for a sister to say when her loved one has been molded into a bitter misshapen shade of himself by as dreadful a thing as her old enemy? "Pohatu - Pohatu--"

In the dim light, a stunned expression widens into a grin.

The Toa of Stone leans forward: "Do you want to know?" he whispers, conspiratorial, "Do you want to know what he did to me? The ghastly, horrible, torturous thing he's subjected me to?"

They must say something in their fury, some kind of affirmation: they need to know, of course they do! To better make him regret it!

Carefully, slowly, Pohatu places the lightstone down before himself.

Its faint light illuminates him better, more clearly, so that they can observe him much better: his armor is completely unmmarred from the rotting color given by a kraata's corruption, its shape is unchanged, his eyes are the same. He lets them watch closely as nothing in his appearence changes or shifts - as every single part of him remains perfectly still, the same as they've always known.

He watches them back; he smiles as he does, looking at them wait for something, anything.

He grins wider, perfectly identical to himself.

"He cared about me."

The look on their faces is just... Comical.

Pohatu laughs.

"Isn't that insane?" he taunts them. "Just absolutely demented? Who would ever think of that, to care for me? About me? To think I'm good, and useful? To find some sort of worth in me? He's always been drawn to revolutionary concepts, but this one might just be too far!"

He laughs.

He laughs so hard.

It's an almost hysterical sound that rattles the tunnel in its entirety and echoes through it, loud, erratic, horrible, stuck somewhere between genuine and mocking, amused and furious. It's so strong that he holds his face in his hand and folds in on himself, and the way his shoulders jump with every wailing chuckle almost makes him look like he is crying his heart out.

"What a stupid idea!" he struggles to shriek out as he laughs, "Devoting time to me! Reassuring me! Praising me! Me!"

He coughs.

Twice, thrice, a few more times.

He knocks on his chest to get all of it out of him until he finally stops, utterly winded, groaning as he tries to catch his breath. A giggle or two still falls from his mouth from time to time. It's getting harder to tell if they are not sobs.

A deep inhale - and his hands are back under his chin, an amused grin is back on his face, a sudden incoherent calm is back over him.

"So to answer the original question, the dirt one spent a hundred thousand years awake helping the only being who ever gave a widget about him with his plan while his brave siblings slept nice and tight in their canisters," he continues, right where he left off, as though he hadn't been caught in a rapturous maddened amusement just seconds earlier. "And he watched everything, from the Barraki's imprisonment to the Metru Nui civil war, to the Dark Hunters setting their sights on the heads of the Brotherhood, to the Toa Metru foiling a perfectly fine plan when they shouldn't have endangering hundreds of Matoran in the process, until a litte Rama told him that the other five had decided to get up for once. And then the rest you should know, if you haven't forgotten it already."

Silence.

Comical.

Absolutely comical.

Look at them stare, struggling to breathe.

Look at the disbelief dripping from their masks as though they just emerged from a pool of it.

Pohatu looks at them, nice and long, and everything in his body aches so terribly that he thinks what he feels might finally be release.

He's finally done it. Finally, finally, now that he has them here at his mercy, accused and tried for their failings, punished but not killed, he's purged every single drop of vitriol boiling within himself upon them and he's free. His guilt and hatred and phantom pains of limbs he never had is theirs now; he is allowed to live unburdened by the person their disgust of him angrily shaped him into.

"You lied to us," Gali speaks softly.

He tilts his head at her: "Hm."

"From the beginning."

"Put a date to this beginning. Mine is waking up with you five to Artakha's voice in that blasted chamber."

"You... You can't be him." her voice is unsteady. "You can't be him."

"Who?"

"Pohatu. My brother. You can't be him. Pohatu is-"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" he interrupts her. "You'd love for me to be dead."

"Pohatu isn't like this!" she almost roars. He can feel her - how she trembles furiously within the stone, desperate to break through it. "Pohatu isn't a liar! He isn't a being this overwhelmed by hatred!"

"You would know," the other croons, but his eyes sour. "The most trustworthy source is the one that wasn't there, isn't it."

"I know my brother!" Gali shakes; the binds around her creak like a poorly constructed dam against the rush of a raging river. "I've fought with him, joked with him, confided in him! I could recognize him anywhere! I know who he is! I love him!"

"YOU LEFT ME!"

The wall groans horribly with them as it crushes them within itself.

Takanuva, unseen, twitches barely as he remains trapped in a shapeless bad dream.

The being standing before them has his hands balled so tight into his own fists that they can hear the adaptive armor shriek as it dents and scratches itself. He heaves long deep breaths with difficulty, as though the air in the tunnel wasn't enough.

The lightstone is half buried within the rock, almost cracked: lances of its glow make him seem larger than he already is, and his eyes behind the visor burn.

"You LEFT me," he repeats. His breathless voice is a faraway avalanche coming ever closer, dragging the world down upon them with it. "You left us to die. You knew what would happen, and you did not tell me. You did not tell anybody - it was your secret safety exit, not mine, not the Matoran's, just yours. All yours. Just for the five of you. The Order of Mata Nui made it just for you," and here it turns into a whine, a whimper, a plead for help that mauls the fingers reaching out to lend their earnest aid, "Just for you five, nobody else, nobody else - there were only five canisters, weren't there? Weren't there? Not six, only five, because you all planned it together, behind my back, behind our little siblings' backs, because there was never any need for me or them, was there? No need at all, and no need to tell us, no need at all. Nobody wants to know they'll die, nobody does, nobody deserves to know they will die even when death can't be avoided so they can at least make peace with it or fight back against it, and that's why our little brothers and sister aren't little anymore, isn't it? Ah-"

His hands open, the stone clenches; his hands close, the stone clenches. He folds and unfolds his fists maniacally, histerically, as he struggles to breathe, mouth agape beneath his mask, eyes trained onto the agonizing Toa and barely seeing them.

"Ah, you are just like those pests," the words drool out of him like foamy spit, and by how hard he shakes he really does seem to be convulsing, "Those damned rats - ah, ah, Mata Nui truly has a fondness for liars and cowards, doesn't he? Must see himself in them, if he keeps choosing them as his guard - if he keeps favoring them, giving them power, trying to save them - ah, ah..."

"Pohatu," is all that Kopaka manages to choke out.

The being heaving and trembling turns to him with a slow, stunted motion and the empty eyes of a mad Rahi. His mind seems to be elsewhere, but he holds his gaze and waits.

Despite the pain and struggle to inhale, Kopaka's quiet voice fills the silence: "They did not know."

No answer meets him.

The wall softens against them. Their limbs ache so much that focusing on anything else is impossible, but at least breathing comes less hard.

The Toa of Ice hisses as to not crumble.

He needs to speak.

If he speaks, the other will calm.

If he calms, he will be more likely to listen.

If he listens, everything can be cleared, and this will stop.

He needs to speak.

Great Spirit damn him and his abysmal storytelling.

"The storm, and the Codrex," he struggles through the words as he tries to carefully construct his sentence. "I knew. I did not tell you. And I did not plan to. That is true. It seemed like a sound plan. As you said - nobody wants to know... Nobody wants to know they could die. It seemed like a good idea. It was not. It was not. I was... The only one who knew. And I did not tell anybody. When you... Cornered me - you can read me so easily. You always could. When you cornered me - I told you. And I - the way I worded myself, was wrong. I never... Meant... That anybody else knew. I was... It was... My plan."

"Kopaka-"

"My plan," he insists over Tahu's interruption. He knows what he wants to do, but he can take the blame. He wants to. It's his fault this is happening. "Only mine. You... I would have. All of you - I would have kept quiet. And we all would have gone in. You included. That was the plan. It was always the plan. All six of us. Your canister - it was there. For you. But I was the only one, who knew. I was-"

He hushes suddenly. His head cranes, his eyes shut. The sound of the stone that slams a dent into his temple comes with a delay due to how quickly it happens.

Lewa's cry out to him is muffled by the rock muzzling him.

His brother can't respond anyways.

"That's a lie," Pohatu only says hoarsely.

The wall hardens around their bodies again (Kopaka's doesn't even lament his pain at all, completely limp) and Onua lurches forward despite the ache ricocheting through his entire being, Pakari glowing faintly to lend him enough strength to fight back: "No!" he growls, "He's telling the truth! We didn't know! We didn't know! We were just as angry as you - if we'd-!"

His mask dims as his head falls back. Another ghastly bang marks, a bit late, the appearance of the dent that knocks him out.

"That's another lie," Pohatu repeats.

He sounds tired.

His eyes wander over his last three conscious siblings, frozen in a horrified terror: "Who's next," he asks, though there is no questioning inflection to his words - only a horrifying exhausted wrath that gnaws at his tendons even when there is barely anything left for it to eat. "Who else wants to lie to me. Don't be shy. Don't be shy, do it, you've done it a hundred times before. Don't be shy."

Lewa sobs. He wails within the cage that constricts his mask, looks at him with eyes wider than a moon, howls without words.

The muzzle tightens and chokes his scream inside it.

"They're not dead," Pohatu spits. "I am a Toa. I don't kill."

He knows it doesn't make them feel any safer, because he knows they can hear his entire body straining to scream no matter how much I might want to, no matter how much you would deserve it through his mouth.

He knows he doesn't want to. He knows he never wanted. He knows it has to be them - provoking him, poking at him like one does at a dying ember to make it spark some more. They want to break him completely and tear away from him the only thing they can't have: the knowledge that he's in the right. The knowledge that he's the only one out of them who was ever deserving of being called a Toa.

It must be them. It must be them. Because they hate him.

They hate him, and so he hates them.

So it must be them.

At least, his inaction makes them squirm.

Tahu calls out to him. He turns to him, so tired, so heavy.

"Those thousands of years ago," he speaks in a calculated manner, careful, because even though he wants to make him break the code he is still afraid of death (not because he is still trying to reach out to the Pohatu he knows, the brother he loves, that can't be it, because they hate him) "What did Kopaka tell you?"

"The truth," the Toa of Stone replies quietly. "And I know it was the truth, because it would have been easier to rip the words from inside his throat than wait for him to tell me."

"And what was the truth?"

"Your plan. He told me you and him were told what what to do. He told me the five of you would have gone in before the storm would have hit. He told me you would have been safe while it descended on Karda Nui the Matoran. He told me you would have gone into the canisters and waited until duty called you to action again."

"We didn't know," Gali whispers before her brother can stop her. "Lewa, Onua and I, we didn't know."

Her arms creak as they are almost flattened.

She bites back a scream.

"Of course you knew," Pohatu shuts her down with a bitter glance. "You must have known. Nobody else asked Kopaka any questions. Nobody else needed to be told. He said, we'll get to safety. We'll enter the Codrex. The five of you. Not me. Not the Matoran."

"That 'we' always included you, too," Tahu says. He sounds like he's begging him for something. "You're our brother."

His brother's fist tightens: "Then why didn't you come for me," he asks in that flat tone. "Why didn't you track me down. Why didn't you bother to chase after me to explain yourselves. Why didn't you force me into that blasted thing. Why didn't you drag me with you, kicking and screaming as I might have been."

In the dim light, the Toa of Fire falters; he gasps for air for a moment, searching for excuses, before he lowers his eyes and admits, ashamed: "I thought we wouldn't have time."

"You left me." Pohatu translates.

Tahu shakes his head.

"You left me," Pohatu repeats, harsher, voice cracking softly: "I was your brother and you left me to die."

Before any of them can argue otherwise, the wall closes around their bodies to crush them once more with an agonizing tardiness, piercing white hot pain through their brains like a drill; it wanes just as slowly to give them a moment of respite in which they struggle to recognize the echoes of their own groans and wails still traveling through the tunnels.

Pohatu's body obstructs what little light the cracked stone still shines as he collects Takanuva in his arms ever more easily than the first time he tried to do so. He moves his little brother's head to lean on his shoulder, so that he can be at least a bit more comfortable; he nuzzles it gently, comfortingly.

Poor Takua.

He didn't deserve this.

His last look at his siblings still sizzles with poison.

"Scream as loud as you want," is all he tells them, venom dripping from every syllable: "You have all the time in the world, and nobody to hear you."

Then his mask gleams; in the blink of an eye everything goes dark, and the wall clenches its grip around them again.

[awellboiledicicle]

I pondered some on the lead up for a courting season in another reblog because I've been plagued. If the link doesnt work its bc its 4am and I'm on mobile. Attempts were made.

I thought about bower birds too lol.

Ooh that would add salt to the whole previous thing with Tamala on Hassains end-- I feel like they both did their lead up, maybe spent a season together under the "committed but not looking to have kids yet" idea, and then she decided she was bored and dipped. So now he's even more committed to his gifts and gestures being exactly what would be expected because hes afraid of deviating maybe being why that happened. I imagine actually sitting down and making things for a new partner would help him process some of those emotions. Not to mention if hes courting a human, I imagine him doubly underlining his wants and needs in the relationship and being very insistent they're clear on what they want too. Just so hes not caught by surprise again.

Oooh you raise a wonderful point-- I imagine the discussion phase in more rigidly structured larger cities is very... is it socially advantageous to have another child? We're courting because our families arranged this, how do we make this work without killing each other the rest of the year? All the flowery things like what pet names (if any) you'd like or the actual sexual negotiation is probably dropped in favor of families working things out for their children/younger siblings if lacking parents. Which might well just mean couples like Eshe and Kenli are very common because it was good for the family unit as a social move vs emotionally fulfilling.

Which would also explain why Kenyatta is still an only child. Eshe firmly putting her foot down on more children after doing what she agreed to at their pairing, while Kenli attempts to make emotional bids in his bumbling way.

SPEAKING OF THE DAIYA FAMILY

Nai'o and Kenyattas relationship feels like it's probably stuck at the "literally would be trying to get married officially were Eshe not politically capable of burning them to the ground". Because while Kenyatta likes pissing her mom off, if Eshe cut ties? Boom she suddenly has nothing to offer outside herself and shes probably been raised to think that plus not having a strong Path means shes essentially showing up to the nest building party with a single pull tab. Nai'o meanwhile knows hes not great for a big city standard match up. But emotionally fulfilling he can do. A happy life she could settle into, he could do. He's just also essentially got a pull tab and maybe a bottle cap because his family's farm isnt exactly huge. He doesnt have his own house. Inheriting it would also be inheriting the financial risks too-- plus it'd be split with Auni. A human rounding out the throuple would probably allow them to settle in with a lot more wiggle room.

I feel like Auni dreads courting season. Mostly because it means more chores. Most places are closed and theres more house to house mail bc people are either staying in or respecting others being occupied. Hes learning how things work, but hes also 90% sure whenever he hits puberty he'll just be put in the Do Chores While People Do Lovey Gross Stuff jail too.

Reth and Tish, ooh yeah that'd be something. Tish is TECHNICALLY more well off socially speaking. Shes doing well on her Path, her shop does fine, so on. But she might also be anxious about even pondering courting someone in general let alone seriously due to her health. Reth would probably dither about it for a lot of obvious reasons. Hes not even showing up with a pull tab. He's not even stealing someone else's shiny things. He's not even sure hes able to fully offer himself, due to his work. Essentially he'd have to get by on pure charm and rely on the other parties resources.

Meanwhile Jel just locks himself in his shop for three weeks because, socially, until he is recognized by his family it would be like taking a flying leap off a cliff and hoping the other person has something solid to latch onto. Which given his general disposition, and the fact he has 6 siblings, probably means he was raised to view things like the big city norm. If he doesnt expect his mother to pick out someone for him until hes worthy of bringing his family clout to the table, then he at least expects not to be desirable socially until then. A human courting him would give him quite a shake to the ol mental guidelines.

I do like the idea of Chayne essentially handing out birth control and heat suppressing medicines, for people who are family planning or have decided kids arent for them yet/ever. I will take that from a/b/o lol.

And I keep imagining humans throwing the social calculus off for a lot of people because we're down to work with p much any situation. We have no Paths or actual Starsigns to work off of. Universally we have no generational wealth. Personal resources vary but we tend to community build and I'd bet money that during courting season humans after the resurgence take up a lot of slack for majiri. So the average person is at least passingly familiar with the situation by the time a majiri tries courting.

Deeply amused by imagining trying to explain to a majiri that humans are essentially always in courting season mode, since we can conceive whenever based on individual bodies. But things like sexuality and romantic orientation and so on tick through things. And then theres some of us that are fine with sex, we just don't feel romantic love so the hormones are there, the impulses just aren't. Some dont do sex or romantic relationships but want kids. So on.

Meanwhile through all this Jina spends approximately too long pondering how many cycles until human mating and courting behaviors show. No one has told her that happened within like a week. Mostly because I imagine it's a rather public process for majiri-- given the pins. So the assumption might be made that it would follow like that for humans.

Meanwhile shes also kinda screwed if she wants to court a human. Not because of the human, but because she'd start getting wrapped up in what her father would say if it got serious and shes on a research trip so any resources she could offer would be a "trust me" kinda thing.

Me: (taking a break at work)

My brain: What if the majiri have mating seasons. It's just another cycle thing about them.

Me: why

My brain: imagine the weeks beforehand are customarily for courting and anything outside of that is considered just kinda flirting. But if someone gives you stuff in that time it's basically saying "I very much want to be serious about this". And the actual season is mostly understood to be for weddings, spending time together, and trying to have kids if you want them.

Me: I have been zoned out for five mins pls I have paperwork

My brain: I imagine Hassain would have like five layers of traditional gifts to give. Hesitantly, because being serious is scary after... well. Reth meanwhile is pretty sure giving food wont cut it, because he always gives food. He's begging Jel and Tish to help him. Jel meanwhile is convinced that if he doesnt make a good enough house outfit his prospective partner will leave in disgust. Tish has spent three months on a bedroom set. There's carvings on all the wood. Hodari wouldn't want to admit to himself that he's been squirreling away an array of gemstones; he wants to give them to someone special but its Complicated.

Me: pls I need to scan

My brain: no, only fanfic plotting

[maddiwrites]

Family Troubles

Pairing: JJ x Routledge!Reader, mostly John B x Routledge!Reader sibling dynamic 

Summary: (Requested) After the death of your brother, you move to the mainland with a nice foster family. Months later, you get the biggest shock of your life that leaves you questioning what you want.

Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 4.6k

You peek your eyes open to another sunny autumn day as your alarm echos off the walls of your room through your phone. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t dread the day ahead of you. Because you feel like you’re finally living a life worth living. 

It’s been about three months since John B disappeared. The worst three months of your life. You never would have imagined living a life without your twin brother. It was lonely and heart wrenching. You didn’t think you would get through it. And living with the Cameron’s didn’t make your life any easier. Ward tried blocking you off from the rest of the world. He was afraid of what you could do to his reputation despite knowing most people wouldn’t believe you. You were just a Pogue with a criminal background.Your word means nothing to Kooks and cops alike. Nonetheless, Ward didn’t want to take any chances. 

It wasn’t until you finally got in touch with Cheryl, your social worker, that your life started to change for the better. You couldn’t believe the irony of running to your social worker for help when you’ve been running away from her all summer. Surprisingly, she did hear you. She listened to you. She believed you! Although there wasn’t much she could do about Ward, she could help you get out from under his neglectful guardianship. 

She placed you in a foster home with an eager Spanish American couple on the main land. Of course you weren’t ecstatic about it. Foster care was never something you wanted to be placed in. Especially without your brother. But at the time, anything was better than living with Ward Cameron. 

The worst part of the process was telling your best friends. Kie and Pope, although disappointed, were happy for you because they knew this was what was best for you. JJ, however, didn’t understand how you could be so cool calm and collected about moving. Losing you to Figure Eight was hard enough and now he was going to have open water separating you two? He didn’t cope well with the news. He barely talked to you as you gathered your stuff to leave, almost didn’t show up to say his final goodbye with Kie and Pope. But he came as you were about to get on the ferry with Cheryl. The two of you cried and told each other you were sorry. You kissed his cheek and slipped a small piece of paper with your new address into his pockets. JJ reluctantly let you go with a promise that he will visit you as soon as he could and you believed him. Because he was your best friend, your soul mate, and partner in crime.

JJ saves up every week to take the ferry to visit you. He usually comes every Sunday, respecting your foster parents’ wishes that he not stay the night. At first they were wary of him coming over - they know about your past from the social worker and the News and how JJ was a part of it. They wanted you to have a new beginning. A fresh start. They believed you when you said your brother wasn’t a murderer and that you and your friends did nothing wrong. They were just afraid that JJ would convince you to come back to the Outer Banks (which he’s tried), or make you regress to past trouble making behaviors. But you explained to Maria and Luis, your foster parents, how important JJ is to you and that he needed to be a part of you life no matter where you were living. So they allowed him weekend visits, always making sure to keep an eye on you when he was here. 

Someone lightly taps on your door until you say, “Come in.” 

Maria pokes her head in and smiles when she sees you’re awake. “Morning, honey. Your appointment is in thirty minutes. Will you be ready to leave soon?”

You offer her a smile and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be down in ten.”

Maria nods. “Okay.”

She closes the door gently, leaving you alone to get ready for your appointment with your therapist. You agreed with your new foster parents to go to therapy once a week. They thought it would help you move on and grow and get rid of the nightmares that sometimes terrorize you at night. You went because you felt like you owed it to them to make an effort. They weren’t like the other foster couples you hear horror stories about. If they were gonna be there for you, you were gonna be there for them too. 

The therapy sessions were working. You’re more open to talking about what you went through. The therapist never gave you any inclination that she was judging you or analyzing you. She just listened and asked you how you were feeling about everything. She helped you adjust to this new life on the mainland and taught you new coping strategies that didn’t involve getting into fights or arguing with the cops. She helped you through your anxiety about starting a new school and making new friends. She even prescribed you some anxiety meds that helped with your nightmares and panic attacks.

Both Maria and Luis drive you to your therapy appointment. You silently question why the both of them felt the need to accompany you to your appointment. You mentally list all the reasons as to why they both would want to come when usually it’s just one or the other. You’re too afraid to ask, thinking they’re about to drop a bomb on you and send you back to the island. You don’t want to hear it, procrastinating the inevitable for as long as possible. 

When Dr. Hildegard greets you in the waiting room, she waves not only you but your foster parents as well into her office. The three of you take a seat on the brown leather couch in front of her chair. You awkwardly glance between your therapist and your foster parents, trying to read the room. You dig your nails into the skin of your hand to keep yourself calm, focusing on the slight stinging pain it leaves you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. She takes notice of your fidgeting hands and smiles. “I know you must be confused and anxious right now. But Maria and Luis have something they want to ask you and felt you would be more comfortable having this conversation with me present.”

“Okay...” You say wearily. 

Luis and Maria hold each other’s hands as they turn to look at you. You feel a little better when you see a smile on their face, making you think it isn’t going to be bad news. 

“Y/N, how would feel about officially being a part of our family?”

You glance between your therapist and your foster parents and tilt your head in confusion. “I don’t understand...”

“Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. “Maria and Luis would like to adopt you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Meanwhile, back at the Outer Banks, JJ is getting ready to leave his house to make the last ferry to the mainland. He had to pick up another shift to afford another boat ride and a date for tonight, which left him racing against the clock.

Someone knocks on his front door. “Shit,” He curses and looks at the clock. 3:04. He needed to leave twenty minutes ago. He doesn’t have time to talk to anyone right now. He figures it’s his dad’s probation officer or druggie looking for money. So he ignores it so he can find his wallet. 

But the knocking persists. 

“Fuck,” JJ grunts and storms to the front door. “He’s not here -”

JJ freezes as he rips the door open. He didn’t know who he was going to find, but he definitely wasn’t expecting his dead best friend to be standing on his door step. 

John B smirks up at his shocked reaction. “Hey, stud. Miss me?”

JJ’s brain is doing flips inside his skull, knocking around with so many questions and curses and phrases and shouts. But with that is the immense excitement and relief that takes over his entire body. 

JJ jumps on him and wraps his arms around his best friend’s shoulders. Tears inevitably prick his eyes and he physically holds onto John B. He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he would get this opportunity again. To see and hold his best friend - the best friend that’s supposed to be dead. 

“Wow. Who knew JJ Maybank could get so emotional?” John B jokes, trying to hide his own tears through his laugh. 

JJ removes himself from John B and shoves him back by the shoulders lightly. He wipes his upper lips with the back of his hand and sniffles back the rest of his tears. “Shut up, bro.” JJ narrows his eyes at the dead man in front of him and asks, “What the fuck happened? Where’s Sarah? Is she -”

"Sarah’s fine. We’re trying to lay low right now. No one knows we’re back.”

“What -”

“Look, I know you’re confused and there’s so much I need to tell you guys, but first I need to see my sister.” John B says with a sweet grin on his lips at the mention of his sister. He was most excited to see her - his first best friend and partner in crime. “Is she here?” JJ’s face falls at the mention of Y/N because he doesn’t know how John B is going to take the news that she’s no longer on the island. John B notices JJ’s hesitation and immediately get’s worried. “Where’s Y/N, JJ?”

“She’s not here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You trail behind Maria and Luis as they unlock the front door to their house. The car ride home was awkwardly silent. You didn’t know what to say.

“Oh...” You said. You weren’t expecting that. You thought they’d be telling you the complete opposite. Yet, you didn’t know how to feel about their proposition. 

Maria and Luis looked at Dr. Hildegard for some insight or ice breaker since you froze up on the spot. You looked back down at your hand and pressed your nails even harder into your skin, leaving half crescent moons indented in your palm. 

Dr. Hildegard kept her calm smile and said softly, “Why don’t Y/N and I speak alone and I’ll grab you guys at the end?”

Maria and Luis, although a little disappointed by your reaction, agreed and stepped out of the room.

When the two of you were alone, Dr. Hildegard asked, “How are you feeling right now, Y/N?”

“I uh...” You stammered. “I don’t know. Shocked, I guess.”

“Usually when kids in foster care are offered adoption, they’re excited. Do you like living with Maria and Luis?”

“Yeah, they’re great. It’s just...” The last time someone offered to take you in as part of their family, it didn’t end well. It changed your life for the worst, you lost your only living family member left, and is the reason why you were here today. Although foster care isn’t that much different, you didn’t expect to stay with Maria and Luis past 18 years old. 

“Rebuilding a sense of trust can be difficult after past traumas. But taking those necessary steps, of letting new people in your life, can help you over those humps.”

“Why don’t you get ready for volleyball practice? I’ll take you there when you’re ready,” Luis says as the three of you walked inside. 

You nod silently and quickly hide in your room. You fall back on your bed that suddenly feels different than it did this morning. Like a reminder that it didn’t belong to you.

But maybe it could. 

You get changed for volleyball in a pair of spandex and a t shirt. When you close the drawer, something falls on your dresser, catching your attention. 

You pick up the fallen picture frame of you, John B, and the rest of the Pogues on Memorial Day Weekend. Kie had taken a selfie with all of you making silly faces at the camera in the middle of the marsh. That day always brings back amazing memories for you. Oh how you wished you could have another day like that. 

You stare a little longer at John B in that photo. What would he say if he was with you right now? Would he say yes to Maria and Luis like he did to Ward? Or would he encourage you to be more careful about who you trust with your life?

Maria knocks on your door and says, “You ready, sweetheart?” 

You place the frame back on the dresser and walk out into the hall to meet her. “Yes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

“So this couple....” John B says as he follows JJ off the ferry on the mainland. 

“Maria and Luis,” JJ says. On the way here, he told John B everything. About how horrendous your life was after John B “died.” How Ward treated you like a prisoner. How you practically begged Cheryl to help you. How you ended up on the mainland with a lovely married couple. 

“Are they...nice?”

JJ shrugs. “They seem like good people. You can tell they don’t like me around, but that might just be because they associate me with all the bad shit that happened to us because of Ward.”

“Does she like it here?” John B says as he takes in his new surroundings. As he and JJ walk towards your neighborhood, which isn’t too far from the ferry, he thinks about what your life could become here. Nice neighborhoods, friendly towns. It’s definitely better than the Cut. But it wasn’t home. 

“She’s learning to, I think,” JJ answers honestly. “She doesn’t like being so far away from the Pogues.”

“Yeah, I can understand the feeling,” John B says. Although it was nice to have Sarah around while they were gone, he couldn’t help but feel like a giant chunk of his heart was missing. And that was the Pogues. 

“This is it,” JJ says as they reach the end of a short driveway on the outskirts of town. A two story baby blue home with white shutters and a rose bush. Bigger than the houses on the Cut and smaller than the houses on Figure Eight. 

“This is where she’s been staying?” John B asks. Something swarms inside his brain. He doesn’t know if it’s betrayal or jealousy. 

“Yup,” JJ says, popping the ‘p’, “Her room is on the side.”

JJ knocks on the front door and looks down at his watch while he waits. Somehow, he managed to be about ten minutes early. Probably because of John B’s hustle to find his sister as soon as possible. 

Luis opens the door with a friendly grin that quickly falters when he sees who accompanies JJ. 

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Morales. Is Y/N, here?”

Luis looks between the boys and inhales a deep breath. He knows John B from the pictures on the News, the stories in the paper, and the cries of his name when Y/N was terrorized with nightmares in the beginning of her stay. 

Although the adoption process just started, he and his wife felt like they were finally forming a family-like bond with Y/N. Dr. Hildegard suggested starting over would be in Y/N’s best interest, encouraging new friendships, joining extracurricular activities at school, staying away from the Outer Banks for a while. Luis and Maria made an exception for JJ, seeing how happy he truly made Y/N. But they never expected to see John B. 

And he didn’t know what that meant for his family. 

John B notices Luis’s hesitation and politely holds out his hand. “I’m John Booker Routledge. Y/N’s brother.” 

Luis reluctantly shakes his hand, although apprehensive, never rude. He coughs awkwardly and looks back at JJ without saying a word to John B. “Tonight’s not a good night -”

“What do you mean? Sunday’s our day. She didn’t tell me she was busy -”

“I’m sorry, son. Maybe next week.” Luis shuts the door before JJ or John B could argue. 

John B knocks again and even rings the doorbell. “Mr. Morales! Hey! Come back!”

“Here,” JJ pulls John B by his arm. “Come here.”

JJ and John B round to the side of the house where your window sits right under the middle point of the roof. JJ find’s the nearest and smallest rock and tosses it up at the glass of your window. 

“What are you? Fucking, Romeo?” John B glares at his friend.

“You have a better idea?” JJ glares right back. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Morales to call the cops if we kept banging on his door. They’re pretty protective of Y/N, which means they’ve never been truly fond of me.”

“Maybe she’s not here,” John B suggests. 

“She’s always -”

JJ freezes when he hears a car pull into the driveway. They both look at each other before walking back to the front of the house. JJ notices Maria first when she steps out of the car. She has a smilier reaction to John B as her husband which makes John B bounce on his toes nervously. 

You don’t see him at first, with your back turned to grab your bag. Then you spot him immediately. 

You stiffen when you see both JJ and....your dead brother standing on the lawn.  Suddenly your mouth feels dry and your heart is beating the crap out of your ribs. 

“Y/N...” Maria says wearily. 

“Hey, Dimples,” John B says with a smile, using the nickname he and your father use to call you when you were younger due to the deep pits in your cheeks when you smiled. 

Your eyes shift to JJ who looks at you with pinched eye brows. He was expecting a different reaction. One where you run into your brother’s arms and squeeze the shit out of him in a tight hug. 

But instead, you were feeling numb. You never expected to be face to face with your brother ever again. You convinced yourself he was really dead because holding onto hope that he was still alive was slowly killing you and even holding you back. You needed closure and that closure was accepting the truth that John B was dead and to never be found.

Yet, here he is. Standing and breathing and watching your reaction with a hurt expression. 

“Y/N...” Maria says again and lightly touches your shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” You finally speak, flinching at the way your throat feels scratchy. You swallow and turn to Maria and offer a polite grin. “I’ll be right in.”

“I don’t know...”

“Please, Maria,” You say, this time a tad more forceful but not rude. 

Maria hesitantly nods and blocks herself away with the front door. 

“I - I don’t - “ You huff. “How?”

“The Phantom...” John B licks his lips nervously. “Capsized...and Sarah and I...well...a shipment boat found us. Took us right to the Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas?” You repeat, taking two steps closer to him. 

“Yes. There’s so much I have to tell you -”

“Like the part where you couldn’t call?” You say accusingly. 

John B sighs. He should have expected it, but he didn’t prepare for it. He thought you’d be happy to see him, but now he’s realizing how hurt and confused he’s truly left you.

“It’s a long story -”

“Yeah, I’d expect the summary of your last few months to be a long one.” You look at JJ. “Did you know about this?”

JJ shakes his head. “He showed up on my way here.”

John B sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to contact you, but we couldn’t! We didn’t want the cops realizing we were alive and we were looking for the gold -”

“The gold?” You laugh humorlessly and your hands run up your head to your scalp. Your fingers tug on the roots of your hair in frustration. “The gold’s gone!”

“It’s not! If you would just listen -”

“I don’t want to listen, John B! Because I don’t care about the gold. That gold took everything from me!” You yell as tears begin to build in your eyes, thinking back to what happened last summer. “I lost Dad, you, my home... I can only see my boyfriend once a week. And I was treated like a prisoner in the house of a murderer!”

“I know that it couldn’t have been easy for you but -”

“No. You have no idea what it was like for me when you were gone. Because you weren’t there!” You cry. “You left! You were living it up in the Bahamas, searching for gold, while the rest of us cried over your death and suffered the consequences!” Tears were now silently streaming down both John B’s cheeks and JJ’s as they watched you break down. “I couldn't sleep for weeks. I barely ate. Ward locked me in a room so I couldn’t tell anyone about what he did.”

“I’m sorry,” John B says. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Back home -”

“Home?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I have a home.”

“This isn’t your home,” John B says defensively. 

“It has been. For the past few months. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” You say with a glare. You look at the house behind him, noticing Maria and Luis snooping through the curtains of the window. You think back on what happened today and the options you had. At first it was a hard decision to make and now it’s damn right near impossible. “Maria and Luis offered to adopt me.” You say honestly.

John B inhales sharply and JJ furrows his brows. 

“What?” John B says.

“I didn’t give them an answer yet. But this is an opportunity to start over.”

John B glares at you. “Think about your family!”

“I am!” 

You suddenly feel exhausted and weak, like the day has lasted over twenty four hours. Your head begins to throb and your neck aches. 

You sigh, “Look, I’m happy you’re all right and safe and unharmed, from the looks of it. But...I just need some time. Okay?”

“Y/N...”

“Please, John B?” You’re practically begging. 

John B sighs and reluctantly nods his head at your request. At the end of the day, you owe him nothing and he owes you everything.

“Okay,” He agrees. 

You walk past him without giving him a hug or anything, afraid you’ll break down in sobs and follow his lead back to the Outer Banks. But you need to be strong and figure out what it is you need in life, tired of following the path that always leaves you broken and alone. 

You kiss JJ’s cheek as you walk by him. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

JJ squeezes your hand before you disappear into your house. When the door shuts behind you, you slid down it onto the floor, finally letting your sobs wrack through your body. Maria and Luis run to comfort you to the best of their ability, but they don’t know how to truly help you. 

Later that night, over a cup of tea, you tell Maria and Luis everything. From start to finish. How your dad was obsessed with finding the Royal Merchant, to the compass, to Ward taking you in, finding out he murdered your father and covered up Sheriff Peterkin’s murder by using your own brother. 

Maria and Luis glance at each other nervously. They know how important family is, which is why they want you a part of theirs so badly. But they never want to take you away from one you already have and love. 

“I think you should think long and hard about what you want over the next couple of days,” Luis says. “And we’ll help you in any way we can.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, wiping away your tears with a napkin. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”

“Honey,” Maria says, wiping another tear with her thumb. “We don’t want you to worry about that. This changes nothing for us, okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The next day at dinner, Maria and Luis sit you down and offer eager grins. Just like they did at your last therapy appointment. 

“Y/N...we have something we’d like to discuss with you,” Luis says.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

With the help of JJ, you meet John B at the Wreck with the others for a civilized conversation. Now that you’ve had a few days to think and calm down, you’re able to really appreciate how lucky you are to have John B back in your life. 

When you see him standing in the middle of the restaurant, you run to him and squeeze him around his waist as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry into his T shirt, telling him how sorry you are for your outburst. 

“It’s okay,” John B cries into your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry. I should be the one apologizing.” 

You pull away and wipe away your tears. “I think we’ve both been through hell and back and did what he had to do to survive. Neither of us should apologize.”

After giving the other Pogues a hug, the five of you sit down and recap each other’s last three months. John B tells you about his time in the Bahamas, how Sarah is laying low until she gets her shit figured out with her own family, and you describe life at a new town and a new school.

“It’s weird. There’s no division. No Kooks vs. Pogues. I don’t know if I like it or miss my enemies,” You say.

When the five of you are ready to say your goodbyes, you pull John b aside and say, “Actually, I think there’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” John B furrows his brows and follows you to a park where Maria and Luis are waiting at a picnic table.

When they see the two of you approaching, they stand and reach out to shake John B’s hand, officially introducing themselves and apologizing for being rude a week ago. 

“It’s okay. I understand,” John B says. “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”

“Pleasure’s all ours,” Luis smiles. “We’re lucky to be able to meet you.”

“Y/N’s told us such great things,” Maria adds. 

You roll your eyes playfully and look at John B to read his face. He seems to be enjoying himself. 

“That’s a first,” He even jokes and looks your way.

“There’s actually something we wanted to ask you,” Luis says and takes his wife’s hand like he did at Dr. Hildegard’s. He looks at you to see if you want to explain. “Y/N...”

You take a deep breath and face your brother. “I have agreed to be adopted by Maria and Luis.”

“But -” 

“Let me finish,” You cut John B off. “We talked about it and the three of us are going to move back to the Outer Banks to be closer to you and the Pogues.”

“But...” Maria says like a song with an excited grin.

You mirror her smile and say, “But...Maria and Luis want to know if you would like to a be a part of their family too?”

John B’s brows jump up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“I know it’s a big decision,” Luis says.

“And if you need time, that’s fine,” You say. “But, I think this will be good for the both of us.”

John B looks between you and your foster parents, who he can tell care about you greatly. Of course he wants that too, but just like you were, he’s nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He says softly as to not offend the couple in front of him.

“Yes,” You nod. “I’m sure.”

John B inhales a deep breath and nods. “Okay. I’m in.”

[obae-me]

Hi again! If it's not too much trouble, can I request the brothers reacting to an MC who usually bottles up their anger (they have a LOT of patience) until one day they just explode? You are an amazing person, and thank you for everything! I hope you aren't pushing yourself too hard!!

Hi, welcome everyone to another episode of Mara Doesn’t Know When To Stop, this time featuring this lovely request! I had a small idea, which then turned into five whole pages for Lucifer alone, so, I will also be doing this request into parts, I really hope you don’t mind! I get a bit carried away sometimes...I admit it... Anyway, Lucifer’s part is first! I hope you like it! 💜

Warning: Angst, arguing, cussing, It does lead to a happy end though, it’s a bit cheesy but sometimes we love it

We All Get Angry Sometimes

Word Count: 2707

He was fully aware of MC bottling up their true emotions. Being well acquainted with angels, he knew, despite all their holy patience, that even they had their limits. He will admit, he was impressed and proud with how far they had taken it, being human after all. Their control was practically as good as his own. No matter what his brothers did, what they said, how much they pushed them, for weeks MC just smiled and swallowed it. He was pleased. Until they could no longer retain their anger, and turned it all on him.

It had been at dinner, nothing unlike their meals every day, except recently Lucifer’s nerves had been on edge. It had been a few days since he had been blessed with adequate sleep, and his brothers were more bothersome than usual. Little did he know, MC’s mental state was about the same, close to the breaking point. An unhappy MC meant unhappy brothers, which meant it would all lead back up the ladder to Lucifer. There was only so far MC could be shoved around, only so long they could stay calm, and Lucifer had been the last straw. No one can really remember how it started, it hadn’t been important, simply some passing comment from one of the brothers discussing recent school projects. MC had scoffed, explaining their thoughts on how ridiculous the rules of said assignments were. Then it all went downhill from there.

“I’m not sure it’s your place to be making claims like that based on what your grades have been looking like recently,” Lucifer quipped. The rest of the siblings prepared to stand up for the human, knowing that MC was typically passive in nature.

Only, that same human beat them to the punch. “So, you’re saying that because I don’t meet your lofty standards, I’m not entitled to my opinions?” MC set down their fork, sending chills down the other demon’s spines as the room went silent.

Lucifer narrowed his gaze, already annoyed with their tone. “I’m merely explaining that maybe your statement would have more merit if you worked a little more at your studies instead of slacking off. And for the record, no, you haven’t been reaching my standards. I honestly expected more from you.” Every member of the household felt that line deep in their bones.

MC’s jaw clenched, the fire building up in their chest overwhelmed them to the point where if they shoved it down any longer, they felt like they would explode under the pressure. “You expected more from me? What more could you possibly want?! You’ve taken my home, my family, my friends, my culture, my time! You’ve constantly belittled me, ordered me around, expected nothing but perfection from me, and you still want more?! What have you possibly done to deserve more of me?!”

He was stunned at first, yes, but it didn’t last long. The shock factor was quickly replaced with a wave of fervent irritation. There’s no surprise he was already in demon form, doing his best to intimidate MC into submission. His eyes were glowing that deep red of his, looking down at the human as he got to his feet. His siblings slowly raised up from their seats as well, at the ready to intervene at any second. This whole event had them astonished to their core. Mammon and Levi had their jaws open. Asmo had his hand covering his mouth. Satan would have appeared proud of MC if not for the wary frown. Beel was instantly engaged in protection mode, already in a stance to grab onto Lucifer if he needed to. The eldest was barely able to control himself. Somehow MC had gotten deep under his skin, his body prickling with anger. “What have I--I’ve brought you into my home, ensured your protection, done nothing but make sure your experience down here is sufficient for your fragile little life! Do Not speak to me that way. Know your place.”

MC was physically vibrating from rage and frustration, their mind clouded with fury. Logic was far out the window now, they simply were saying whatever came to mind. Profanities were no longer held back. “I’m sick of your pompous holier-than-thou shit! I’m sick of working my ass off for you and not being good enough! You have a serious fucking lack of respect for everyone around you!”

The air was thick with his aura, his wings fully extended from his body. “Not another wor-”

“Fuck you!”

In a quick blur of motion, everyone worked together in tandem. As Lucifer lunged forward, his brothers held him back. Mammon scooped MC up in his arms and raced to the safety of their room before MC could get hurt, although deep in his heart he hoped Lucifer wouldn’t resort to violence. Lucifer growled inhumanly, flinging his brothers off of him in a single swift movement, ready to pursue the person that dared attempt to say such things to his face.

“How pathetic for you to have gotten so riled up over a few words from a human,” Satan shouted at him as he got up from his spot on the floor. Swallowing the small lump in his throat, he hoped this would prove a decent distraction as well as a way to snap his brother back under control.

Lucifer loomed over him. Satan seemed hardly disturbed. “Watch yourself.” But Satan’s words proved efficient, Lucifer’s Pride wounded as he realized how quickly he allowed MC’s words to get to him, how quickly he had lost control. All of his sibling’s eyes were on him, observing how he was acting. His head was pounding, but instead of heading up to MC’s room, he swiftly retired to his private study where he locked the entrance behind him. He paced around the area for a while, magically turning on some soothing music as his wings twitched in vexation.

He had been completely unprepared for MC’s retaliation, for their venom towards him, but perhaps he knew there was only so much a living being could take before they snapped. Had he been pushing them too hard? Expecting too much of them? Mistreating them? Had he gone too far? What if this spat ended up becoming a problem for the program? What if MC relayed this to Diavolo? His image, his reputation, they would be tarnished. Did MC think less of him now? Did he really care what they thought of him? He was better than this. He expected more from himself. He lowered his head as he sat heavily down into the chair behind his desk. He sunk down low, proper posture be damned. As he took a deep breath in, he realized he hadn’t been breathing for a while, lungs aching. He hadn’t meant to rub MC the wrong way. He simply strived to lead them towards the potential he knew they had. All he wanted was for them to feel proud of their accomplishments, to show the world what he knew they were capable of. But perhaps, it was unfair for the same standards he kept for himself to apply to MC as well. He pinched the bridge of his nose as that deep breath turned into a heavy sigh. He had failed in nurturing the success they’d already accomplished. He’d made them feel like they weren’t good enough, and now look at what he had done, in front of his family no less. Humiliating.

Meanwhile, Mammon was in the process of rubbing MC’s back as they lay on their bed, screaming into their pillow as angry tears fell from their eyes. They hadn’t meant to snap at Lucifer, it all...was just so much. They finally had cracked from the pressure. Everyone’s expectations had gotten the best of them. Be a human representative. Don’t let anyone down. Don’t show weakness. They weren’t purposefully slacking off from their studies, they just were burnt out, almost completely. Lucifer demanding even more from them...was the last thing they needed to hear today. Their own words made them feel sick to their stomach. Being angry wasn’t like them, it never sat well, which is why they always attempted to bury it in the first place. Mammon continued to tell them to breathe and calm down, doing his best not to freak out himself. He’d never seen his human act like this before. After some time, they both heard a polite knock on the door. As MC tensed, Mammon got up to answer it on their behalf. Lucifer was waiting, back in his casual clothes as his arms were settled folded across his chest, foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

“You’ve got a lotta nerve coming back here so soon,” Mammon scowled. “I won’t let anything happen to them, ya hear?”

“Nonsense, Mammon, I have no intention of harming them, I just want to talk. Calmly.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t think they’re in the mood for talkin’.” Mammon did his best to let his body block the entrance to the room, his shoulders nearly touching both sides of the door frame as he made his stature appear bigger. Lucifer peered over his younger brother’s figure, spotting MC sitting with their legs crossed on top of the bed, mostly calmed down as well, refusing to look at him. He noted the tear stains on their cheeks, and he resorted to having to clench his own teeth to stop the bubbling guilt rising up in his chest. He would make this right, if he couldn’t do this, how could he possibly call himself the wise and mature older brother?

“It’s...okay, Mammon,” MC assured him. The demon of greed scoffed, stating much too loudly that he would be right outside the door. He threatened his older brother not to even think about laying a single finger on them, unafraid of any punishment when it came to protecting MC. Lucifer waved him away with a single hand, too exhausted to deal with him further. As the door shut, he strode over to MC’s bed, chin high but spirits low. He had no intention of apologizing first, but if he could just persuade MC to start, he might be able to swallow enough pride to follow.

“Have we calmed down now?” He asked, MC simply nodding in response. “Very well.” He paused for a moment, letting an uncomfortable silence settle over the room. He did have many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to rectify, but for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to say them. Not yet. “Did you have anything you wanted to say to me?”

He observed them fight back their irritation before slumping their shoulders as they gave in. “I’m sorry, Lucifer.”

“And?” His voice sounded like a parent scolding a child, causing MC to nearly flinch in humiliation.

They bit their lip. “And the things I said to you were uncalled for. I know how much you do for all of us...for me.” They sat up a bit straighter as they stammered over the thoughts they wanted to say, to explain their feelings. They were afraid to be honest and vulnerable, much like he was, but they had the courage and humility to be open. It was a trait he secretly admired. “I just...I’m finding it difficult to--to find the--the energy and motivation to make everyone happy. And...and it hurt when…” They looked down, swallowing their emotions once more as they halted their watery eyes from crying again.

Lucifer let his body unwind ever so slightly. It would be rude of him now to not follow their example. “I...regret my words and my actions. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me, it won’t happen again.” He let the conversation fall once more as he took the time to straighten his coat around his shoulders and his gloves tighter over his fingers. “It was not my intention to invalidate your efforts. You’ve already accomplished more than I originally thought you were capable of, and it was foolish on my part to expect more from a simple human.” His rather backhanded compliment forced MC to rest their face in their hands in shame. The nerves in Lucifer’s spine shot a jolt up his back as he realized how terribly this was going. His temples were pounding, and he finally put his pride aside for the sake of reconciliation. He couldn’t stand to be the cause of their distress. MC stiffened as he sat himself beside them on their bed. A gentle hesitant hand hovered above their body before it settled between their shoulder blades. He glanced at the door where he knew Mammon was behind, probably listening in, and so he spoke softer. “I’m...sorry.” He had to ignore how harshly the words hurt him, but something about it was freeing. “I seem to have pushed you too far. I am thankful and truthfully astonished of what you’ve done during your time here. Not only did I cross a line today but I was blind to the fact that you’ve been overtaxing yourself. I know how hard it is to juggle my siblings and my work.”

He allowed his hand to drift up and down their back in a soothing rhythm, relaxing some himself as their muscles eased at his touch. MC finally raised their head from the confines of their palms and looked him in the eyes. “Do you think I’m a disappointment? A burden?” He found himself stunned for the second time today, and for a while he wondered when it was that he could be so easily swayed by the words and emotions of this human. Here he was, not only apologizing, but expending every effort he had in consoling them. He wanted MC to be happy again, because somehow it seemed to make his days a little brighter, his mood a little softer. Perhaps...he cared more for them than he realized. Their shouts had wounded him deeply at dinner, but somehow these new words hurt him more. Their forlorn face spurred an unfamiliar pain in his chest. 

“I’m sure it will be hard to convince you after the unforgivable things I said to you today, but it could not be further from the truth. I suppose the fact that you question yourself is one of my biggest failures. Clearly, we have not been communicating properly. For that I am..s...sor…” The words got caught in his throat. Apologizing once had been difficult enough, a second time seemed impossible. Out of the blue, he felt a tight set of arms wrap around his torso. He held his arms up in the air, his body turning rigid as his little hairs stood up on end. MC had pulled him into a tight hug, burying their face in his side. He felt their nose nestle against his ribs. As soon as he found his breath, his arms slowly lowered, settling around the smaller human. His body felt warm. Allowing himself a small smile, he cleared his throat. “I would prefer a situation like this to never happen again, do you understand?” MC detached from his sides, sitting back up as they nodded silently. “So, for the future, instead of quarreling with me, I expect you to come straight to me to discuss any woes or issues you may have. Fair enough?”

“Yes, Lucifer.”

He gingerly brushed his fingers against MC’s cheeks. “But it would be remiss of me to ignore the faults of my own. Since our meal was interrupted, what do you say to me taking you out to dinner, as my way of making amends?”

MC felt themselves blush a bit. “Sure-”

The door burst open, Mammon leading the charge as the rest of the siblings spilled into the doorway. They’d all been eavesdropping. Mammon came over and tugged MC further away from Lucifer. “Oi, what did I say about touching MC?!”

“And our dinner was interrupted too, I think we deserve something!” Asmo whined.

A loud grumble echoed from Beel’s gut. “I’m starving…”

Lucifer’s eyelid twitched a bit, and he gave MC one last apologetic look before he sighed. “Fine...we’re all going to dinner then.”

[moongoddesskiana]

I'm just thinking about AU where you keep elements from different canons for maximum angst as well as maximum 'you done fucked up my fave' because the writers really don't understand my fave's origin story

So Jason recently left the Titans (have I ever watched more than the first 3 eps no but I've seen enough clips and fanvids) and is back to working with Bruce. They are working on a case where the criminal has diplomatic immunity, Jason goes to confront the dude who proceeds to fall off the balcony (also for kicks the dude said that no one was going to believe that Jason had nothing to do with it when Jason tried to save him and he shoved Jason off) and dies.

After this Jason is forced to go to therapy where Leslie (whom he already knows and trusts) helps him a bit though he is still very much struggling. Jason then over hears Bruce say that Jason is being too rough and is going to be taken off active duty, Jason then runs out of the manor and into Crime Alley. Bruce tracks him down and they have a conversation like the one in Titans and Jason asks Bruce not to give up on him and that he had nothing to do with the dude's death.

Not sure if I'm gonna have Bruce believe him or not, but Bruce thinks this is for the best and doesn't realize how much this fucks up Jason and worsens his feelings of being rejected. As Jason leaves the alley but is still in the neighborhood an old neighbor flags him down saying they have some of his family's old things. Jason sneaks back into his room and goes over everything in the box hoping to find some of his mom's old things, what Jason actually finds is his birth certificate. The mother's name starting with an S but otherwise unreadable. Jason doesn't feel like he has anyone to go to and tries to track down his bio mom.

Cross referencing Willis addressbook he finds 3 possibilities, I'm gonna be lazy and say that Sheila was in town for like enough time for Jason to find her in Gotham. Meanwhile Joker broke out of Arkham and Batman's on the case and thinks that Sheila's job's local warehouse known to not usually be in use is Joker's next move. Sheila tells Jason she has to go to a meeting but to meet up later when Bruce runs into Jason.

Bruce asks Jason where he's been and what is he doing on a Joker case (it's been like a week since Jason left the manor only leaving a note saying that basically reads I know when I'm not wanted don't do a obligatory search.). Jason for a second thought Bruce had been looking for him and that he actually cared until he asked what Jason was doing on a case, Jason's sense of rejection escalates.

Bruce says that Sheila workplace might be in trouble but that he was also checking out another lead. Jason tracks down Sheila to warn her that the Joker might be up to something using her work's warehouse, she's like sure kid uh huh until he shows he the Robin suit. Then Sheila says to help her search the warehouse before her meeting which was to happen at the warehouse so that they would know if anything bad was inside.

Jason says that he should call in Batman just in case when they round a corner in the warehouse and the Joker is there. Jason (in Robin suit) turns to Shelia to yell at her to run when she pulls out a gun and points it at Jason telling him "sorry kid looks like you trusted the wrong person this time."

Jason is then tied up and beaten with a crowbar, whilst Sheila sits back and smokes on a nearby crate. Jason goes unconscious and Sheila is tied to the warehouse while the Joker says there can be no witnesses. Jason tries to get them both out of there while he struggles to move, they make it to the door when he hears a timer seconds away from zero while Sheila tries to open the door. Jason covers her body with his own while resigning himself to death. The warehouse explodes.

First responders are already on the scene when Bruce gets there. Sheila is alive long enough to tell Batman that Jason was a good kid, a better kid than one she thought she would make. The first responders found Jason before Bruce did, Robin was pronounced dead on arrival.

Everything is happening in between season 2 and 3 btw, well at least until Red Hood arrives.

Dick hears about the explosion over the news and rushes to Gotham, team in hand. They miss the funeral. Dick finds out that Jason had been missing for a week before that and is pissed Bruce didn't tell him. A month later Tim forces his way into Robin and gets assistance from the Titans who welcome him with open arms.

3 months after his death Jason crawls out of his grave, Scarecrow and the League of Assassins are working together (don't ask why idk either) and Jason stumbles across a meeting. Someone notices Jason isn't responding properly and they began experimenting on him eventually realizing that one of Scarecrow's toxins makes him less fearful and respond to orders more. Talia grows to give a shit and puts him in a Lazarus Pit before she is sent away but still partly in charge. Ra's says to drug him before he wakes up and to make Jason reliant on the drugs and on the League of Assassins.

Jason is trained up for a year before they put him on the scene as a figurehead but not really in charge of anything Red Hood. Jason tries to keep civilian casualties as low as he can, tries to keep things centered on ending Gotham's crime and criminals. He makes his number one rule no drugs to kids, no harm to children, no exceptions.

Two lackeys who drugged Robin were made as examples. Jason himself was still force fed Scarecrow's toxin every day.

The code name Red Hood was one of the few things that he had been given control over a nice little Fuck you to the Joker (still alive and kicking) which he had a do not engage order for so he couldn't kill the guy himself (not that he thought he would be able to even with the toxin). Jason tries to use it as a force of change, a force of good for Gotham. Sometimes when the drugs were wearing off he wondered how much harm he was doing compared to good, and how easily he killed criminals.

The league of assassin's pulls out of Gotham for reasons Jason doesn't know about, Jason tries to get clean while an imposter with meta abilities impersonated Red Hood in order to get to Hank and does Gotham harm. The titans have been in town for most of the time btw. The meta, a telepathic shapeshifter, bumped into Jason read his mind and figured Jason Todd would be a good cover for them while they did this and they could implant memories into Jason later and no evidence would lead back to them especially because of Jason laying low and trying to detox alone.

So yeah Jason still murders people but the stuff in the show making someone snap their neck, civilian casualties that shouldn't have happened and killing Hank, that was a meta in this because I can't see even a very fucked up Jason doing those things.

Everyday the meta tracks Jason down reads his mind and implants new memories. Jason tries to get help but that keeps getting stopped or people refuse to help him for the things they think he did.

The meta is taken into custody when someone realizes that that isn't Jason because either he called one of them or one of them saw him one the street collapsing. This leads to so much confusion epically since Jason has two sets of memories the stuff he did do (duffle bag of heads) and things he didn't do (kill Hank). In the process of sorting his memories the Titans realize how much they fucked up with Jason especially when they hear him say 'Arkham is to good for me, I need to be put down, I'm poison.' After hearing him whimper in his sleep begging Bruce not to put him in Arkham, to not leave him with the Joker.

Jason and Tim mostly get along and become siblings, but Gar is the only Titan who didn't really hurt my fave from what I know. The rest didn't really treat Jason as one of them and didn't try to understand him or empathize. I heard that Kori was also okay with him but then I saw a clip from 3x08 and I was like :/

Don't have anything else currently for this idea

[planetchii]

THE NICHIASA SHITPOSTING REPORT

Tropical Rouge: The two exs are fighting again. All because Asuka's new family messed up Yuriko's super serious TV bit about the school. Which Yuriko got in the divorce. I mean, it's not the girls' fault that a banner that they were putting up hit Yuriko square in the face and pushed her into the water.

In any case, like true former lovers, they take that fight to the battlefield of quiz game shows. However, after tying with the student council in the Battle of The Century (tm) with Minori's smarts, a series of unfortunate events causes Asuka's new family to fall behind because because one used information that humans don't have and another can't math, even if everyone's daughter Sango had it all perfectly counted. But Asuka won't give up, and is still fast enough to run away from alimony payments outrun her ex and hit a big red button, and get a Yaraneeda beaten by Cure La Mer in less than 5 minutes to the surprise of everyone, including Numeri. Never mess with speedrunners.

Saber: The final battle has commenced and Storious still has not taken a cough drop. Storious, please, we know you want to sound like a scary villain, but you're going to kill your throat soon doing this, please. I mean, I know you saw the script for the show years in advance and really had some questions about the direction the writer was taking your character, and I know the ending didn't sit well with you, but please. Halls cough drops are cheap. I know the book is already set and was sent to print but please. Think of your throat. We can retcon it later. And by we, I mean Touma.

Meanwhile, everyone is dying. Everyone we love is DYING. Also the Shindai siblings, who took repeated stabbings in the back. At least everyone died of exhaustion or in the process of The Great Vanishing of 2021. Though, I feel like I've seen the whole, stabbing people in the back thing with the Shindai siblings before.

And while all of this is happening, Mei has finally made it to the office after convincing Luna to go to the battlefield for reasons, and rewards herself with writing a fanfiction to be posted on AO3 later this week. It's a strange turn of events that the end of the world has released her creative juices, but when you gotta create, you gotta create.

Zenkaiger: The war for Yatsude's heart has commenced between Stacey's Ice Cream addiction and Kaibot. But before they could fully get into a fight, Kaito called truce because it was his bed time and he also had to take a cat to the hospital. They work out a new time for their date in front of Kaito's other boyfriend and go on their merry way, with a fuming Vox somewhere in there.

To deal with this sudden but inevitable betrayal of his boyfriend who he saved from jail a few episodes ago, Vox angerly eats corn. Vox loves corn. It's gold like him, the husk is round so the entire thing is round. The cornals make it look like a gear, and it would never get back together with it's ex for a date. Truly the most trustworthy of vegetables.

Flint has to get Vox's ass off the couch in his depression corn eating to go help Kaito. Mostly because between the Zenkaiger group and the Twokaizer group there are 9 brain cells. And all of them belong to Flint.

So the new War for Yatsude's heart commences, and Stacey immediately resorts to cheating. I mean, he's gotta win. He needs his ice cream fix. But that cheating causes everyone else to join in something that was going to be a one-vs-one fight, including a very angry boyfriend who was not too happy to both have to help, and see his gears being used by his boyfriend's ex.

Really, I don't understand why they have to fight. I mean, Kaito has two hands. He could love both boyfriends equally.

T H E R I V E R D E M A N D S A S A C R A F I C E.

(Shame the Tojitendo have to bust out the human to fix this biological robot.)

[captainbetonit]

Room for more chapter 8

~.~

The next few days went well, and as those days bled into a month. Nearly to the date Pixel came back for a check in for the kids. She trusted her friends but needed to put that aside for the well-being and safety, so here she was checking on them.

It was raining that fateful day, near pouring from the dark grey clouds. Thanksgiving will be in a few weeks, the rapid drop in temperature was an odd sensation that she wasn’t prepared for. She didn’t need to knock before Cole opened the door with a smile.

“Hey, come on in.” He greeted her, opening the door.

“Thank you, now you know why i’m here?” Pixel got straight to the point, she wasn’t here as a friend.

Cole nodded, “Of course, now Zane wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to the kids first or us so both are in the living room.”

She nodded before she brought up their file, it was rather thick and contained the information for both brother and sister. “I’ll talk with the children first, I'm trusting that they're ok.”

“In our words yes, but you have to take their word for it.” Cole simply shrugged, in the end it was up to the kids.

Pixel nodded again, before moving to the living room where the two children sat playing with toys. They did seem happier then when she’d last seen them, more like children.

Zane came out of the kitchen, apron tied around his waist and a tray of drinks in hand. “Hello Mrs. Borg, welcome.”

The children looked up from their toys and smiled at her, Kai seemed hesitant with his greeting but did so nonetheless. “Hello Mrs. Borg!” The two greeted before giving Zane their whole attention.

An exchange of pleasantries and drinks commenced, mostly small talk and such before Pixel cleared her throat, “I would like to speak to the children now please, alone.” That statement made the room feel so much colder.

“Of course, kids go with Mrs.Borg. Show her your rooms and such.” Zane motioned for the two to follow Mrs. Borg when they made no move.

Kai eyed her with caution, he knew she was a nice woman and from he was told she was fair and sweet. But social workers weren’t always nice, they seemed nice but weren’t what they seemed. Nya mostly followed her brother in mannerisms, but never really thought. Like when all the doctors thought her Mama was gonna be fine and she died a week later-or when dad said he’d be back. Nonetheless the two followed Mrs. Borg up the stairs and to Nya’s room where the children share the bed while Mrs. Borg sits in front of them.

~*meanwhile*~

Anxiety was a son of bitch, so much so that Cole was cursing every single god to let him be at peace. Granted that probably wouldn’t happen seeing as they didn’t have much to worry about-they shouldn’t have anything to worry about.

“You're pacing a hole in the carpet dear.” Zane mentioned as he sat with a book on the couch and some tea.

“Surprised you aren’t joining me.” Cole snapped before stopping and wincing, “I’m sorry babe, it’s just been really stressful lately.”

Zane sighed as he closed his book before rubbing his eyes, “I know my dear, but please calm down.”

Cole, now tired, collapses on the couch next to his husband. “I hate waiting.”

Zane guided Cole’s head to his lap and started to card his fingers through thick black hair. “As do I, my love, but if we waited this long then perhaps it’s worth the wait.”

The two were silent for a moment, the house rarely creaked but as the silence went on it felt like the house was moving with the wind of the storm.

“Are we good parents?” Cole asks as Zane picks up his discarded tea.

He was silent for a moment, contemplating his husband's words. “I like to think we’re doing a good job so far, but only time will tell really.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Cole sits up and faces his husband, “I’m talking about are we doing the right thing? Like could we be holding them back, are we taking them away from an uncontacted family member, are we doing things wrong and not knowing it?!” His voice rose an octave, panic of unknown answers to rising questions loomed over him like the storm clouds outside.

Zane wasn’t going to lie; questions like those often plagued his mind. It was times like those when he wouldn’t sleep-couldn’t stop the thoughts that reminded him that what they were doing could have been taken away so quickly.

“I like to think we're doing the right thing-we’re hopefully doing the right thing. Maybe we're helping them, or maybe we’re like our parents and don’t even know it. I…” Zane trailed off, the thought of being like either of his fathers was a difficult one to handle. Dr. Julian was a good man, just not a great parent; never really being there for his kids and favoring one over the other. His other father, Arashi was far more old fashioned with just about everything especially parenting. While he was there for things, It always felt like nothing was good enough for him, and in turn neither Zane nor Echo were good enough.

“We’re definitely better than our parents-no offence. I mean we’re going through all these hoops just to be here.” Cole thankfully interrupts Zane’s thoughts. “Plus we’ve done a lot to get here and made progress with Kai.”

Ok that was undeniable-when Kai first got there it was tense and full of trial and error, Nya while younger and mostly followed her brother in terms of what he did. Both have grown so much in the past month, opening up to them and feeling like a family.

“What i’m trying to say is, we can try and hopefully succeed?” Cole gently brought the conversation to a sorta close.

“I suppose your right, but that will never truly answer our questions.” Zane reached for his husband, seeking comfort. “And that’s good right?”

The two were quiet for a moment, before little feet were heard coming down the stairs followed by the sound of Pixels heels.

The two children joined the older on the couch and leaned deeply into their warmth. Whatever they talked about upstairs was clearly behind them.

“Alright so after i take a look around then you can go back to domestic life.” Pixel smiles as Zane detached himself from Nya’s hold on him and led her around the home for her to deem safe for the children.

~later~

They passed the check with flying colors, the kids were happy and very safe. Education wise Zane had gotten them workbooks and brought them to speed with 5th and 1st grade respectfully so they could both go to school in the spring. If they were still in their care by then anyways.

Nonetheless things were actually going well for the family, it was perfect.

Then they got a call, rather late at night actually from Pixel who sounded frazzled and stressed.

Zane picked up his phone around 3 am, answering the call without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Hey Zane-quick thing.” Pixel wasted no time with introductions or greetings. “Seeing as you and Cole are foster parents and while I know you already have two children under your care-” Pixel cut herself off with a quick ‘excuse me’ to supposedly yell at someone.

Cole turned to his side as Zane sat up and clicked on the bedside lamp, “What's happening? Who is it?”

Before Zane could answer Pixel talked to him “Can you take a baby-maybe 9 months old?”

Zane was silent for a moment, needing some time to process her words. “Um, can i talk to Cole for a second then I can talk.” He hung up the phone before letting the phone fall and falling backwards into the pillows himself.

“What happened?” Cole himself turned on his bedside lamp before following his husband and collapsing onto his pillows.

“Pixel wants to place us with a baby.” Was all Zane said. That kind of shocked Cole, when they had first considered fostering they had been open to much younger kids. Now though seeing as they already have two kids-did they really need a baby?

“Do you want to?” Zane asks, before pausing, “Foster the baby I mean.”

“Honestly, we should do it.” Cole answers after a pause. “I mean we're doing pretty good with Kai and Nya and the system doesn’t help kids at any age really.”

He turns to his side, waiting for Zane’s response. He knew Zane wanted a baby, hell when they were in highschool Zane took many babysitting jobs be it with his younger brother or the neighborhood kids.

“I think we should as well.” Zane finally answers after the minutes start to stretch. “But what about Kai and Nya? They should be consulted on this, it’s a very important decision that they should have a hand in.”

“Call Pixel back, and we can talk to them in the morning.” Cole advised as he got up with his phone. “I’ll call in sick so we can all talk this over.”

Before Zane could tell him about the rain from the afternoon Pixel picked up, “Zane, hi. Did you both talk about it?”

“Yes, we’d love to foster the baby but why did you call at 3 in the morning?” Zane also got up from bed-he’d might as well check in on the kids.

Pixel was silent on the other line for a little while before she sighed heavily, “Well seeing as i was handed the baby at 2 am i figured it was better than nothing. And you did answer so.”

Zane was quiet for a second, “I’m sorry what?”

Pixel sighed again before answering, “Watch the news in the morning and you’ll understand ok? So when can i come with the baby?”

“Umm, in two days maybe? We have to talk to the kids and get everything ready.” Zane leaded against the hallway wall. “..What’s their name? The babies?”

“His name is Lloyd, he's nine months old and i think you’ll love him.” He could hear the smile in Pixels voice before his phone pinged. “I sent you some general information, I'll talk to you later ok?” They exchanged goodbyes and hung up.

After checking Kai’s room(it was empty) and then going to Nya’s to see the siblings cuddled close in the bed. After a quick picture of the two he closed the door and went back to bed. Cole was back, the bedside lamp turned off. Zane turned off his light and went to sleep.

Tomorrow is going to be hectic.

[whumphoarder]

Emergency Contact

Summary: It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.

Or, in which fifteen-year-old college freshman Tony Stark needs a ride to the ER and James Rhodes is too responsible for his own good.

Word count: 4,050

Genre: sickfic, hurt/comfort, angst, whump

A/N: Thank you so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading, ideas, and encouragement!

Link to read on Ao3

It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.

To be fair, the skinny five-foot-four prepubescent kid who’d walked into James’ dorm on move-in day didn’t look much like a college student, nor was he lugging in cardboard boxes and duffle bags filled with crap like the rest of the freshmen in the hall. There was no air of excitement and trepidation to him—no telltale buzz of new experiences. Not to mention, James had spent the majority of his summer away at Air Force ROTC camp, cut off from most forms of media and therefore oblivious to the rumors that Howard Stark’s infamous fifteen-year-old child prodigy was set to start his engineering course at MIT the very same semester that he was. It was hardly his fault for not recognizing the kid.

Even so, he probably shouldn’t have addressed Tony as ‘champ’ and asked if he was there to drop off an older sibling. That was on him.

What was not on James, however, was the fit Stark pitched at the resident assistant’s office upon realizing that his father had evidently not set him up with a single room after all.

“So move me then,” the little twerp demanded. “Just put it on the old man’s bill—he’s got the money. I didn’t just live through the last seven years of boarding school dormitories only to have to keep sharing the fucking bathroom in college.” He glanced over his shoulder at James, before adding, offhandedly, “No offense—I’m sure you’re swell.”

James huffed out a short, ironic laugh. He was standing in the back corner of the office with his back leaning against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, quietly taking in the scene unfolding in front of him. “None taken.”

(At this point, he wouldn’t have minded a switch either.)

The mousy redhead at the desk looked frazzled. “Look, I’m very sorry, Mr. Stark,” she tried to explain, “but there’s nothing I can do. All our single dorms are fully booked.”

Even when the kid shoved a wad of cash at her tall enough to make James’ eyebrows rise, the RA held her ground.

“It’s a first come, first serve policy,” she explained, her voice faltering, but words firm. “At least until something opens up. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it has to be.”

So there they were, a nineteen-year-old Air Force cadet from a working class family in Philly who had gotten into ‘fancy school’ on an ROTC scholarship, a 3.87 GPA, and a prayer, and a spoiled rich brat with a pile of daddy issues taller than the Bunker Hill Monument. The two were going to be stuck together for at least the next few weeks and neither of them was particularly thrilled about it.

X

Despite James’ initial concerns, rooming with Stark wasn’t actually that bad.

James had an additional scholarship that was dependent on his academic performance, so he joined several study groups to keep his grades up. Between ROTC, student government, and mock UN, along with his never-ending mountain of engineering coursework, he was rarely home.

Meanwhile, Tony might look like a twelve-year-old, but that certainly didn’t get in the way of his budding popularity on campus. The kid was swimming in invites to different parties and events (though whether that was due to his own sharp wit and natural charisma, or simply his undeniable social status as the son of Howard Stark, James couldn’t tell). Either way, between James’ busy schedule and Tony’s avid social calendar, the two could go days without seeing each other, which suited them both just fine.

With all the partying, James figured his roommate’s grades must be suffering, but a curious glance at the quarterly report letter lying on Tony’s desk last week proved otherwise. The kid had straight A’s in all seven of his classes—two more than James himself was taking.

(Alright, maybe he disliked Tony a little bit.)

X

James knew it wasn’t going to be a good day from the moment he woke up to see sunlight streaming in through the blinds. That just wasn’t supposed to happen at 5:45 a.m. in November.

“Shit,” he muttered, scrambling out of his twin-size bunk. The display on his alarm clock was silently blinking the very incorrect time of ‘12:00’. The previous night’s storm must have knocked out the power. He grabbed his watch from atop his desk to check the actual time and immediately breathed out a sigh of relief. 7:22. No morning run today, but he should still be able to make it to his eight a.m. class if he hurried.

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he snagged some clean clothes from his dresser and made a beeline to the adjoining bathroom. He pushed open the door and slapped on the light switch, but the second the room illuminated to reveal the scrawny figure sitting slumped on the floor between the toilet and the wall, James froze.

“Tony?” he asked in confusion. He hadn’t even heard the kid come home last night.

Without opening his eyes, Tony hummed a bit in response. Then all at once, he lurched forward and gagged, coughing up what looked to be mostly bile into the toilet bowl.

James grimaced. It was definitely not the first time he’d seen his roommate severely hungover, but it was the first time he’d seen it happen on a Tuesday . At the rate this kid was partying, he’d be lucky if he had any liver function left by the time he graduated.

With a sigh, James set his stack of clean clothes down on the sink counter. “Look man, I’m sorry, but I really gotta shower. I know you’re not feeling too great, but do you think you can give me, like, five minutes in here?”

Tony blinked up at him, seeming to process the question. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay…”

Doing his best to ignore the acidic smell of vomit, James stepped carefully around Tony into the small room. He flushed the toilet and grabbed the metal trash can from beside the sink while Tony pulled himself shakily to his feet.

“Thanks dude. I promise I’ll be fast.” He passed the can off to Tony and watched him stumble back out of the room before shutting the door.

If the military had taught James nothing else, it was efficiency. He emerged ten minutes later—showered, dressed, and clean shaven—to find Tony sitting listlessly on the edge of his bed. The boy looked more dead than alive, with one arm wrapped around his stomach and sweat soaking through his thin gray t-shirt. Just the sight of him was practically an underage drinking PSA in itself.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” James announced as he grabbed his backpack from the floor.

Tony acknowledged him with a small grunt, but didn’t make any effort to move. His mouth was slightly open and he was breathing through it carefully, warily eyeing the trash can on the floor in front of him. For once, James was glad he had an eight a.m. class to get to; he figured in about five minutes, he wouldn’t want to be here anyway.

In a spur of the moment gesture of kindness, James grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the case under his desk and tossed it onto Tony’s bed. “Feel better, dude,” he said on his way out the door.

X

Tuesday was always a busy day for James. He had back-to-back classes all morning, followed by a student council meeting in the afternoon and a mandatory ROTC training session. It was nearly seven o’clock by the time he made it back to the dorm, and by that time he’d honestly forgotten about that morning’s excitement until he opened the door to their room.

As miserable as Tony had appeared that morning, he looked decidedly worse now. He was lying curled up on the edge of his bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets, cheeks flushed and body shivering. The whole room carried the vague scent of vomit, though the trash can by the bed was currently empty.

“So… I take it this isn’t a hangover?” James deduced, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He plopped the paper sack of Taco Bell that was going to make up his dinner onto his desk, causing Tony’s face to scrunch up in displeasure. “Stomach flu?” he guessed.

Tony made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat.

“Think you got a fever?”

Another low noise issued from Tony, somewhere between a grunt and a moan, which James took to mean something along the lines of ‘don’t know, and don’t care.’

James hesitated a moment, unsure what to do. If his mother were here, she’d tisk her tongue and press her hand to the kid’s forehead to gauge his temperature, but somehow he didn’t see that going over too well with Tony.

Instead, James checked his watch and sighed. “I can give you a ride to the student health center if you want,” he offered. “They don’t close until eight.”

“Don’ have to... ‘s just a bug,” Tony mumbled into the pillow, the most consecutive words James had heard from him all day. “I’ll be fine.”

The thing was, if Tony were one of his ROTC buddies, James would have dropped it right there. He’d never been particularly good at caretaking, and besides, he had a test coming up in his thermal-fluids class tomorrow morning that he should really be studying for. But something about the utter vulnerability Tony was displaying at the moment gave James pause. True, the kid might be a stuck-up asshole, but he was also just that— a kid. Only a few years older than James’ own kid-brother.

James looked at Tony appraisingly. “Can you handle a shower?”

“Huh?” Tony breathed.

“A shower,” James repeated. “Remember those? Water, soap, maybe even some shampoo if you’re feeling adventurous,” he said wryly. “That is, if you can do it without passing out.”

Tony fixed him with a rather pathetic glare. “Not gonna pass out.”

“You better not,” James quipped, crossing his arms and watching as Tony pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve seen more than enough white boys’ pasty asses this summer to last a lifetime. I have no desire to add another.”

(Tony lifted his middle finger weakly in his roommate’s direction.)

X

Over the sound of the shower running in the background, James ate his tacos and started flipping through his class notes in preparation for the test the next morning, but he was finding it unusually hard to focus. He kept listening for any sounds of distress from the bathroom, and after fifteen minutes had elapsed, he got up from his desk and crossed the room.

“Hey, I was serious about the ‘no passing out’ rule, Stark,” he hollered, rapping his knuckles against the door. “If you biff it in there, you’re on your own.”

As if on cue, a loud crashing sound immediately issued from inside the shower.

James’ eyes widened. He jiggled the door handle only to find it locked. “Tony?” he called. “Did you just fall?”

There was no response.

James cursed. He grabbed a paper clip from his desk and quickly jimmied the flimsy lock open—a skill he’d learned from his cousins years ago—before pushing open the door. “Tony?” he called again.

Suddenly, a hand emerged and pulled the edge of the shower curtain back just enough for Tony to stick his head out the side. His face was totally straight, but there was a hint of mirth in his eyes. “Whoops, must’ve dropped the shampoo bottle,” he deadpanned. “Thank god I’m rooming with the US Coast Guard.”

“Air Force,” James corrected irritably.

Tony pulled the curtain back closed. “Whatever.”

James rolled his eyes. “Next time I’m letting you drown, Stark...” he grumbled as he stepped back out of the room.

X

By the time Tony finally emerged from the bathroom an additional twenty minutes later (the latter ten of which he’d spent retching loud enough into the toilet that James had broken out his walkman and headphones), all traces of his earlier humor had dissolved. He moved shakily back to his bed and managed a couple sips of water before curling up on his side, the trash can within easy reach.

James tried to turn his attention back to his textbook, but Tony’s labored breathing as he drifted in and out of consciousness was making it difficult to focus. James kept stealing worried side glances back at the bed, wondering whether there was something else he should be doing.

At around nine-thirty, Tony jerked up suddenly and stumbled back to the bathroom to start dry-retching into the toilet again, and that was when James gave up trying to study for the night. He got up from his desk and pushed open the hastily half-closed door to the bathroom to wet a washcloth at the sink. When the mostly unproductive spasms ceased, he handed the cloth to Tony.

“Have you eaten anything today?” James asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already.

Tony just grimaced and shook his head.

“Want some crackers or something?” he offered. “I can go raid the cafeteria soup station.” James might not have had as packed of a social calendar as Tony, but it wasn’t like he never partied. He still knew the college hangover tricks.

Tony shook his head again, eyes closed. He seemed to lack the energy for words.

“Gatorade at least then?” James tried again. “All I’ve seen you drink today is one water bottle—you’ve gotta be getting dehydrated by now.”

Another head shake. “I’ll jus’ puke it up again…” Tony muttered. “Prob’ly a kidney too at this rate.”

“Well it’s better than puking up nothing,” James reasoned. Technically, he didn’t know if that was true or not, but he was tired of watching the kid be miserable. He moved back to the room to grab his keys and jacket. “What flavor do you want?” he called.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony croaked back from the bathroom. “They’re all terrible.”

“That’s the most ignorant thing I’ve ever heard you say,” James retorted. “Just for that you’re getting purple.”

And with that, he exited the dorm and shut the door behind him with a bang.

X

It turned out that the vending machine in the lobby outside the dining hall only sold three Gatorade flavors—blue, orange, and red. James bought a bottle of each, then slipped into the deserted cafeteria to snag a handful of individually-wrapped saltine packets from the clam chowder counter before heading back to the dorm. It took some cajoling, but he managed to get two full crackers and half a bottle of the sports drink into Tony before it came right back up.

“Told you,” Tony rasped, spitting neon blue strings of bile into the toilet bowl. “Lost cause.”

“We’ll try red next,” James said, cracking open a fresh bottle. “One of them’s bound to stick.”

But red didn’t stay down any better, and neither did orange. James mooched a can of ginger ale and a quarter of a bottle of Pepto Bismol off a fellow cadet down the hall, but those fared no better. Even the cup of tap water James kept bullying him into taking sips from proved too much.

By midnight, Tony was still sitting slumped against the toilet on the bathroom floor, barely conscious, and James was at a total loss. “I think we have to go to the ER,” he admitted finally.

Without opening his eyes, Tony made a low noise of discontent in the back of his throat. His eyes were sunken in and he was alarmingly pale.

James let out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m sorry man, but we’re running out of options here. If you can’t even keep water down, you’re gonna need an IV.”

“No…” Tony lifted a shaky hand to try to take the cup of water James was holding. “I’ll-I’ll try again… just—” His words were cut off by a weak gag.

James cursed under his breath and quickly steered Tony’s head back over the bowl. It turned out not to matter though because for the next several minutes of miserable retching, nothing came up. When it was finally over, Tony slumped back against the wall. His eyes were red and puffy, and James figured it was only dehydration that was keeping the tears from falling.

“Alright, that’s it,” James declared. He wrapped an arm around Tony to lever him upright, feeling the feverish heat coming off the kid in waves. “I’m not letting you die on our bathroom floor—we won’t get the deposit back.”

Tony breathed out the ghost of a laugh. “Jus’ tell Howard to write you a check at the funeral...” he murmured. “‘bout all he’s good for,” he added under his breath.

James’ brow furrowed but he chose not to comment. He hoisted Tony to his feet and bore most of the kid’s weight as he led him back to the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the mattress. “I’m gonna get you a clean shirt, okay?”

Tony nodded, gazing blankly forward with half-lidded eyes. James ended up having to help the kid pull his sweat-soaked t-shirt off and guide his uncooperative arms into a fresh one, followed by his coat. When they got to the shoes, James didn’t even bother having Tony try himself. He just stuffed the kid’s feet into a pair of sneakers for him.

“I taught my little sister how to do this last summer,” James explained as he tied Tony’s laces, if only for something to fill the awkward silence. “She’s in first grade.”

Tony hummed lightly. “I never went.”

James frowned, pulling the knot tight. “What do you mean?”

“Firs’ grade,” Tony clarified. “Or second. They started me in third.”

James smirked, imagining tiny five-year-old Tony filling out his multiplication tables in a classroom full of kids a full head taller than him. But his face quickly fell again as he suddenly realized a potential flaw in their plan. Tony may be in college, but he was still technically a minor. James wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to bring him off campus. “Shit, we’re gonna need to call your parents...” he said.

Tony’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Why?”

James raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m about to haul their fifteen-year-old son’s ass off to the hospital? Have you been following this conversation at all?”

“Oh. Jus’ leave a note for the RA.” Tony shrugged, listless. “They won’t care.”

James gave him a strange look. “Of course they’ll care—they’re your parents.”

Tony’s eyes were glassy with fever. “They won’t,” he croaked. “Been in boarding school since I was seven.” A shiver ran through his body and he swallowed hard before continuing. “Got pneumonia one winter and was in the hospital eight days. Dad jus’ paid the school to handle everything—didn’ even visit.” A tear finally slipped down the side of his cheek. “I was twelve.”

James knew it was just the fever making Tony so forthcoming at the moment, but it didn’t make his words any easier to take. As much as James always complained about his own mother’s doting whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he couldn’t imagine being sick enough to be in the hospital and not having anyone there for him. He didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, Tony broke the awkward silence. “Sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his palm against them. “‘M fine.”

With a quiet sigh, James put his arm around Tony to help him back to standing. “You know what? We’ll just call them when we get there,” he said before leading Tony out to the car.

X

The drive to the hospital was uneventful. Tony sat curled up in the passenger seat of James’ old beater of a Chevy Monza with an empty plastic bag in his lap, quiet except for the occasional whimper he’d let out when they’d hit a bump in the road. When they arrived, James got Tony checked in and situated in the waiting room with some forms to fill out before stepping out to the foyer to use the payphone.

James fished the scrap of paper containing the number that Tony had finally agreed to give him out of his pocket. He dialed it three times. Each time, the call was picked up by the answering machine. On the third round, he left the Starks a brief message stating which hospital Tony was at and how they could contact their son, then hung up quickly before he could add anything else he might come to regret.

He reentered the waiting area to find Tony sitting hunched forward in his chair, breathing shallowly and clutching the small kidney-shaped basin that the triage nurse had given him like his life depended on it. “What’d they say?” he murmured. James wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard just a hint of hopefulness in the kid’s voice.

Without meeting Tony’s gaze, he slid into the seat beside him. “They didn’t answer,” he said guiltily.

Tony’s tone returned to flat: “Shocking.”

“They’re probably just asleep,” James reasoned, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “I left a message, but we can try again later.”

Tony hummed absently. Then all at once, he brought the small plastic container he was holding up to his mouth and threw up whatever little liquid remained in him. His hands were trembling so hard that James had to help him steady the basin.

When the heaving stopped, one of the nurses from the front desk exchanged the used basin for a clean one. Tony grunted in thanks, then looked up wearily and locked eyes with James. “You really don’ have to stay.”

James gave a tiny scoff. “What? You think I’d just leave you here to faceplant on the linoleum?”

Tony shrugged a bit. “‘S not like we’re friends, Jim.”

James pondered this for a few seconds before returning the shrug. “I guess you’re right.” He settled back in his chair and picked up a copy of Good Housekeeping from the stack on the waiting room table, flipping it idly open on his lap. “Too bad I’m invested now.”

X

It was around three a.m. by the time Tony’s name was called. He was taken back and briefly examined before getting hooked up to an IV line for fluids and antiemetics. The doctor ordered some bloodwork to be sure, but said that all signs pointed to a virus. As soon as they could get the vomiting under control and Tony’s vitals stabilized, he should be good to go.

While Tony dozed in and out of consciousness on the ER bed, fluids dripping steadily into his arm, James just sat there, silently mulling the events of the last sixteen hours or so over in his mind. It was weird seeing Tony like this—weak, and small, and just so undeniably young.

James waited until the clock struck five before slipping quietly over to the phone located near the nurse’s station. This time, he dialed a different number—one he knew by heart.

A familiar voice answered on the third ring: “Hello?”

Instant warmth flooded James’ chest at the sound. “Hey Ma,” he said softly.

“James?” His mother’s tone changed from puzzled to concerned in two seconds flat. “It’s so early, baby. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” he assured, the corners of his lips turning up into the smallest of smiles. “Just wanted to catch you before you left for work.”

“Well, you got me,” she laughed lightly. Over the line, James could hear her bustling around the kitchen, pouring coffee into a mug. “What do you need, baby?”

James hesitated a second, his gaze shifting back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “It’s nothing, just… I wanted to ask if I could invite someone home for Thanksgiving next week.” He shifted his gaze back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “I get the feeling he could really use it...”

Link to all my fics

[upstartpoodle]

Hey! Just saw your post about sending in an AU and getting some headcanons, so maybe some for the Elizabeth lives AU? Thank you!! ❤️

So I’ve just been going through my inbox and I can’t believe I forgot about these AU headcanon asks! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this extremely late reply because I have a ridiculous number of WIPs and an even more ridiculous number of headcanons for this AU, so this is very likely going to be looong.

ELIZABETH LIVES AU

- In this universe, no comments about Valentine resembling Ross are made, and nobody drinks poison to induce early labour, but little Ursula is a little too eager to come into the world nonetheless. The birth is a difficult one but, thanks to the sterling work of Dr Enys, Elizabeth pulls through to see her children grow.

- Despite complications during the birth, Ursula is born healthy and Elizabeth recovers well. George, however, is pretty shaken and it ramps his overprotective tendencies up to eleven for a while afterwards. Elizabeth takes to gently but firmly suggesting that he tend to some matter away from Trenwith every now and then when she wants a break from his fussing.

- Dwight and Caroline are named Ursula’s godparents at her christening. Ever since the birth, Dwight and George become surprising but close friends (much to Elizabeth’s delight and Ross’ consternation).

- Valentine and Ursula love each other very much, but they drive each other mad. Or at least, Valentine drives Ursula mad. She’s his favourite person to tease, after his father. Unfortunately, this means they end up nigh-on constantly bickering. George is pretty good at getting them to stop, but Elizabeth can silence the both of them with a single well-placed disappointed look.

- George and Elizabeth have two children after Valentine and Ursula: Olivia, who is born two years after Ursula, and Jasper, the youngest. Both are calmer and quieter than their boisterous older siblings (much to their parents’ relief). Olivia is a lot like her mother, both in looks and personality, and despite their differing temperaments, generally gets on very well with her elder sister. Jasper, on the other hand, is the spitting image of George, reserved to the point of being shy and very serious, just as his father was as a child. He has managed to unintentionally disconcert Cary on numerous occasions because of this.

- Cary and Elizabeth do not get along. At all. They have never got along, mostly because Cary is of the opinion that she has managed to swindle his nephew out of a prosperous and well-connected marriage and turned him unbearably soft in the process simply by existing, and since the births of her children their opinion of each other has only got worse. As a general rule, they try to avoid each other, but when they can’t, Elizabeth is more than capable of holding her own. George, meanwhile, just wishes that his uncle would stop being an arse to his wife.

- Of his two parents, Valentine is closest to his mother. It’s not that he doesn’t love his father, or that his father doesn’t love him, but they have both very different temperaments and different interests and skills. On the other hand, he is the only one of the Warleggan children who has inherited Elizabeth’s love of and talent for music. When he was little, she used to let him pluck out little tunes on her harp, but when he gets older, his parents buy him a pianoforte. George jokes that that day would have marked the end of peace and quiet in the Warleggan household if they’d ever had any since Valentine was born.

- George loves all his children, but he has a special bond with Ursula, who has inherited all of his business acumen and all, much to Elizabeth’s pride, amusement and consternation, all of his stubbornness and determination as well. Once the two of them get an idea into their heads, they’re an utterly unstoppable force.

- Valentine and Jeremy Poldark are the best of friends. Neither of their families know quite how this happened, but they all suspect Geoffrey Charles had something to do with it.

- One of the most prolonged agreements George and Elizabeth have ever got into was about whether he needed spectacles. Elizabeth was of the opinion that he did. George was of the opinion that he did not. Their stalemate lasted for a week and a half before he gave in, much to their children’s amusement. Valentine and Ursula made a bet about how long it would take their father to give in. Valentine thought he would last a week; Ursula thought he would last two. George, meanwhile, was very offended that they didn’t even consider the option that he might win the argument.

- When they grow up, Ursula gets married to a Devonshire baronet and businessman whom she met through his dealings with the Warleggan Bank. Olivia, on the other hand, gets married to a Somerset clergyman that she met during the season in Bath. Elizabeth is delighted for them both. George is happy as long as his daughters are happy.

- Both George’s sons-in-law are low-key terrified of him. He swears that this has nothing to do with what Valentine terms the “one-man Spanish inquisition” he subjected them both to when they were courting his daughters.

- George and Elizabeth’s first grandson - Valentine’s little Georgie - is an absolute hellion. George, who claims to have gone grey early solely from attempts to wrangle a little Valentine, finds this absolutely hilarious.

Send me an AU and I’ll give you 5+ headcanons

[deafchild2000]

Team Free Will 2.O

Remember back when earlier in Supernatural, Team Free Will was formed and everyone had their own ideas about who would be in the running for a Supernatural: Next Gen.? And remember how we almost got Wayward Daughters, but that got rejected in favor for Legacies?

Well, in honor of the very last season of SPN, I decided to do my own AU spin on who would be the perfect trio of Team Free Will!

First off...Jesse Turner the(Human/Demon hybrid)

Jesse Turner is the Antichrist, who was discovered by the Winchesters after unknowingly using his powers by believing little superstitions. However, upon meeting his parents (his mother while possessed by his demonic parent) and disowning them via refocusing his demonic parent, Jesse used his powers to transport himself far away and was never heard from again.

As picture above shows the obvious: Jesse is an adult now. Having practically a decade to control and hone his powers, powers that were believed to level Heaven itself, the threat that God himself poses could easily be enough reason put himself back in the game!

Secondly... Ben Braeden (Human)

From cheeks, forehead, smile and similar taste of music, it's no surprise that there's still Supernatural fans who continue to believe that Ben really is Dean's son!

Back in 3x02, The Kids Are Alright, the Winchesters came into Ben and his mother, Lisa, lives just in time as children in the suburban area they lived in were being taken and replaced by monsters that feed off their parents. Dean briefly returned to live with them at the end of season 5 after Sam went in the Cage and created a domestic life with them until Sam's return. But because of the threat Dean's Hunting has brought them, he had his guardian angel, Castiel, wipe their memories of him to protect them.

Now, here's where wordplay comes in: There was no mention of any supernatural that were being brain wipes. So, it's actually easy to believe that once Dean left, Ben and his mother were getting attacked by other monsters trying to settle a score with Dean. But add in the lapse of memories and the sudden knowledge of Hunting being used to protect themselves, it wouldn't be so hard to believe Ben ended up joining the Hunter lifestyle to get answers.

And who's to say Ben doesn't get injured/hurt, which causes him to remember Dean.

Whether or not he's angry with him is up to debate, Ben Braeden won't stop until he get answers from the man himself...and find out if he really is a Winchester after all!

(And ideally, if Dean is his father, like Claire Novak, he is the next gen. vessel of Michael.)

And last but not least...Emma Winchester (Corrupted Amazon/human(?) hybrid)

For those who forgotten her: Back in 7x13, Dean unknowingly slept with an Amazon named Lydia Martin and together, they conceived and had a daughter named Emma. However, in a span of 3 days, she was taken and brainwashed to become a full member of her tribe, initiated if she could kill her birth father...which in attempting to do resulted in Sam Winchester killing her.

Now, while many fans respectfully believe Emma died and went to Purgatory, which would've made the possibility of her and Dean meeting HIGH, other fans believe she might be someplace else. See: Emma is part of a race of Amazonian female warriors born from Harmonia, the Greek goddess of Strife and Concord. Other sources believe Ares, Greek god of War, was her father and gifted them to her while another source claims Harmonia was a nymph who caught Ares' eyes and had the Amazons as a result.

This ties in to the idea since deities from different cultures exists, and Emma was a creature of a different mythology and not Eve, her afterlife might actually be in the Greek Underworld. Perhaps in the Asphodel Meadows, a place were souls who did not commit crimes nor do anything great when they were alive, were sent.

Emma, herself, is arguable an innocent. She never killed. While she was sent to kill Dean, her discomfort amongst the Amazons and their ways was most obvious during the scenes growing up (in a span of 3 days). Thus leading certain fans to believe she could have been redeemed, and even traveled with the brothers as a result.

In general, Emma coming back would be more than just closure and/or being part of Team Free Will 2.O would be an interesting act. The potential storyline of season 15 being to either help Dean reconcile with losing her (and especially if it were to be discovered that Chuck purposely took wrote her off because he knew Dean would lament over her at somepoint) and meet a stalemate with Sam (who may or may not have time to realize he was rash in killing her.) And because she's Greek and not of any Christian mythology, it leaves her a loophole in any of Chuck's plans, like how Castiel's supposedly non-extinct place in his story helps him intervene.

Besides, her own character arc would still relate to the Amazons as with Harmonia (goddess of basically conflict and peace) as the creator of her species, and the current Amazons doing noting but causing conflict, and finishing out how and why her species had fallen from grace that Harmonia would let something like this go on... Emma might need the Winchester blood in her veins to work that out!

(Sorry if Emma's part is lenghty compared to the boys, but seriously! There are so many ways Emma's story could have went and the fact that it was glossed over...Yeah, there's something God!Chuck-like about that scenario!)

And though that includes that ideal trip for Team Free Will 2.O, I'd like to add one more member that helps them:

* Jack Kline (Nephilim)

Let's admit it: Compared to those listed above, he is a character fans sympathize with and/or bash. A young child in a grown man's body, for all his adorableness and genuine feelings, he's perfect for Team Free Will.

Jack was conceived by his human mother, Kelly Kline, and his Angelic father, Lucifer. Though her pregnancy was anything but ordinary, she realized quickly that upon her son's birth was her death and told him in the womb to grow up quickly to protect himself.

And he did that...literally.

Having and losing his grace, realizing the world had it's good, bad, and mostly gray moments, and loving the Winchesters and Castiel as his family before his death by his grandfather, Chuck/God, he had the makings of a great character.

Obviously, one of his greater issues would be rising from Lucifer's shadow and doing his best to prove he's nothing like him. Hence why, like his Uncle/"Dad", Castiel, he would be the Guardian Angel to Team Free Will 2.O.

He'll make mistakes, be tempted by anything with his heart in the right place, but like his chosen "parents", Jack will do everything to protect the next generation and hopefully avoid any apocalypses in the process.

Which leads Team Free Will 2.0 consisting of the Antichrist, an Amazonian warrior, a Hunter, and a Nephilim (two more or less clashing while the other two are siblings!)

And it doesn't hurt to add good ole' Uncle Sam Winchester be the Veteran Hunter/Witch, along with his wife, Elileen, who help the group with hunts while actually getting them to sit down at a dinner table once a week! Meanwhile, Dean and Castiel are married and living in a lakehouse in Kansas, seeing their "kids" (Ben, Emma, and Jack) whenever they can!

[1stunseeliefaelass]

Darksiders Arthurian Tales Revisited

Chapter 10: Bonds Old and New

Death and Wren then head inside, and ran into Morgen. Death could only think of one word as these two women looked at each other, "Aw shit."

Sighing he then looked at Wren, "This is Morgen, Morgen this is....Wren."

Morgen looked at Wren and was pleasantly surprised at the genuine smile she got, "How do you do?"

"Quite well actually, thank you. And greetings to you as well."

Death noted their civil behavior and had an inner sigh of relief, "Well I'll go about finding something....for me to do.....ladies, I'll see you later.....and please be nice to each other...."

Quickly he headed to find Ale and explained everything that had just happened. Getting a resounding squeee, which got the other three's attention.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Strife asks.

"YES!" War added.

Fury meanwhile stated, "Explain. Now."

"I'm explaining everything to Ceise, you tell them about it." Death tells Strife.

"Right I'll do that, ok guys over here. That way Ma isn't gonna make us go deaf." Strife states.

Fury then inquired, "I know why you call her Mother, but why does our brother do so?"

"A, that's for him to tell you, and B, it's something that probably piss you off." Strife vaguely tells her.

War chose to remain quiet for now, deciding to let Death be the one to explain. Meanwhile Ale was DELIGHTED over her son being a heartthrob.

"How wonderful, two ladies. And one I already know. Oh I still remember how much you used to gush about Wren."

"Ceise....please not so loud....I don't want them to come back in here." Death tried to express with his growing embarrassment.

"Oh sorry Atan, you seem a bit more flustered than I expected. I mean I can be a little embarrassing sometimes, but it seems you have reached your limit faster than usual."

"It's just....I have a problem of sorts....and I need a little help with it..." Death told her.

"I see, well what's on your mind then Atan? What troubles you?" Ale implored him.

"I noticed I've been starting to feel things for Morgen, but after seeing Wren I've begun feeling those old feelings for her. I really don't know what to do right now. It broke me finding Wren dead and I don't want to happen to her. However, I need to check with Morgen about her feelings towards me. It's all messy, and it terrifies me. Only a little bit, but still."

Ale looked at him calmly and gently brushed his back, "This is a very cliche answer Atan, but follow your heart. Only you can make that choice, only you can decide who makes you happy. I know you always spoke highly of Wren, and from what I've noticed of Morgen she seems to be a kind woman. Whoever you choose, I'll be there to support you."

"Thank you." Death says simply, trying to process what to do.

Wren meanwhile began speaking to Morgen. The two of them actually found a common ground with each other and began conversing about normal things mostly. But the conversation did ultimately come back to Death, leaving Morgen to finally ask the question she'd been dreading,

"So Wren, how do you feel towards Death?"

Wren actually took a moment to respond, "I like to believe I still love him. But lately....I've been scared that maybe I don't. Several eons alone will do that to you."

"I can't say I blame you. I do have my own feelings for him, but if you need time to figure things out I won't get in your way. Nor will I be angry if it turns out the doubts were for not." Morgen told her calmly.

"You have my thanks, really you do. I do have an idea of how to figure this out. My race, the Arcaeniens, we can only have children with those we view as equals. But on top of that, we can only feel pleasure during the act if we love our partner." Wren explains.

"So in other words, you wish to engage with Death in the bedroom to see if you still love him?"

"Yes. I just hope to make things....a little easier on his end. Extreme emotions have always been....hard for him to express. But when he does manage it, it truly is something to behold. He may not always have it easy with words, but his actions are always sweet when they shine through." Wren explained thinking back to those coveted memories of him.

"It sounds like you know him well. I promise you Wren, I'll do my best to treat him well should things end up not going the way you may be hoping for."

"Should things go well for me, and I end up being wrong in my concerns, I promise you much the same Morgen. I am a nurse after all." Wren tells her. Both women share a brief laugh together before Wren continues, "I only ask that if I do end up correct, that you'll also let us work together to find our daughter and care for her."

"I swear to you Wren, I won't interfere with your parenting or search for your child. You both deserve to have her back, or to know what happened to her." Morgen replies kindly.

With that Wren nods and the two part ways. Morgen heading off to see how Arthur is doing, among other things. Wren meanwhile goes looking for Death, hoping to speak to him about this. Believing the sooner he knows the plan the better.

Meanwhile Death had gone off with his siblings to tell them about what happened with Lilith all those eons ago. Strife decided to give Death sometime to prepare himself by bringing him into a sideroom off the main one the other two were in. Death began having a mini panic attack as he started worrying about worse case scenarios,

"Relax relax relax....just tell them what they need to know....just relax."

"Dude breathe. Remember telling me to breathe, trying doing it yourself." Strife told him.

Death does so and after a few deep breaths responded, "What do they wanna know?"

"Well first off why you call Ale Mother. Another one is Wren, which I explained the best I can but you need to explain it yourself. And Lilith, you're gonna need to them about that. Don't worry, I'll be right behind you with that stuff. If you have trouble, I'll help you out."

"Thank you for....helping me out with this. Kinda terrified of figuring out how to do this on my own, but with you in the room it may help." Death expressed simply.

Strife then inquired, "So, you good to go?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with."

War and Fury stand up as their elder brothers enter the room again. Fury seems calm but is internally freaking out. War meanwhile is just dreading what they may end up hearing.

As he remains quiet, Fury asks instead, "So, what exactly is going on? And what has happened?"

"Where do you really want to begin?" Death inquires.

"Well for starters you could tell us about Wren. As that is one of the most recent questions to come up." War states at last.

"Wren is the woman I met back during the time of the horde. After I was grievously wounded I found her and she saved my life. After that, I made frequent...house calls, well visits. Unfortunately I could never stay long, always another battlefield, always another request at Absalom's behest. And Absalom DESPISED my relationship with her, as it kept me away from my 'duties' as he would put it. 'Too much of a distraction' he'd sometimes say. I didn't care much for them, I still visited as much as I could, for as long as I could. Last I saw her was eons ago, and I was...leaving to a battle. But before I left, she asked to produce her child, so I...obliged..."

"Is that why you reacted the way you did when that message came?" War questioned.

"Yes. If said that she was pregnant. I still remember how I felt. Excited, anxious, proud, scared, all sort of things. But when I got there, a purge had happened. She'd been taken to a camp to be killed. But the childbirth killed her before they could. When I found out she was there I went on rampage through the camps. When I found her, I was broken a bit, greatly actually. But I found my daughter, she had survived, hidden from the carnage. From there I buried Wren, and set up a pyre near her home. After that is when the Hag struck. I did my best to fend her off, to rebuff her attempts. But unfortunately, she was too strong. I couldn't figure out how to stop her. After she defeated me and took Coventina I found myself back in one of our camps. Absalom had said that she was dead, the witch had killed her....back then I somewhat believed him, but I know that's true anymore. At least I hope it's not. He didn't try his damnest to find her, to save her. If she were Nephilim, he would have cared far more than he did. But then again, I never cared to mention it to him. I didn't want him to do what he did to all of you." Death explained further.

"We only helped with the memory loss thing, because you were depressed. If I knew the story behind it, I wouldn't have helped." Strife informs him.

"I still remember those few weeks. You stopped eating, rarely slept without nightmares, and Absalom was just....angry. More so than he normally was on most days." Fury says in musing.

War however remained silent again, trying to process it and figure out what to say. He did eventually motion to his brother, "There are still the other questions."

Death just nods, "I would only assume."

"First off why do you call Ale Ceise? Second off, Strife mentioned that something happened. But he did not specify any further. So what was he referring to?" War pressed him.

Death sighed deeply, "This started before any of you were created or born. I myself was created in the woods around Ale's village, specifically behind her home. From what I could surmise from her....excited ramblings...", he then looked around for Ale before moving on, "I was apparently either created in the flower, or it was used to make me, or a side effect of the Creation magic. Whatever the case I have no idea. Anyway that's not too important....even after being blinded by Absalom she still kept up some hope. After I was able to find her, she still viewed me as a son. In time though an event happened, something that showed me who my true Mother was. Before I continue, the information I say will not leave this room, and after I'm done recanting you MUST NOT go after the person in question. I do not want you to suffer a fate similar to mine."

War interjected, "It does make us question why you would ask this of us."

Death's eyes closed for a moment before he spoke up, "Getting to it. Remember how Lilith's home, I certainly remember the face you were making during that experience."

War actually shudders a bit, "I'm not even going to try to remember. Well based on what I can remember initially, it wasn't to any of the senses."

"If you think THAT was horrible, let me explain just how truly deplorable Lilith is. To begin with, Absalom was the one who....technically started the mess. He explained to me....that it was essentially my...turn to finally meet our 'Mother' alone. I was nervous about it to begin with....and went to Ale for guidance on it. She herself was...mortified, begging me not to go through with it. I ultimately felt I had no choice, and so....she gave me a way out should I need it. A small crystal that would teleport me near her home. But when I did go to Lilith's home.....I...I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. I assumed it would be a normal meeting....but really happened was the worst three days that I ever experienced. For those three, long, agonizing days, I found myself at her mercy. I found myself...being....used.....to pleasure her.....as her toy. I lost count of how many times I begged, how many times I pled. I urged for her to stop, to let me go, to end it several times, until my voice gave out. But she never yielded, she carried on. Eventually I freed myself as no one came for me. The moment I escaped her 'abode', I ran for so long I don't even know exactly just how long. Then once I felt I was safe, I used the crystal Ale gave me to teleport close to her home. From there I ran, as far as I could. Until she found me, Ale not Lilith. She brought me into her home, and sheltered me. When Lilith came she took on the woman's wrath to protect me. And afterwards made sure I felt safe, both physically and mentally. She even got me new trousers to replace the ones Lilith tried to destroy. From that night on I knew who my real Mother was. From that moment on, I knew who I could trust, truly."

Fury's jaw had gone slack, although she was now trying to hide it with her hand, "Death.....how much....did you suffer under her?"

War however, "Explains several things for one. And thank you for making sure that situation did not befall me all those years back. As I can now see why you were so adamant that I not be in the same room as her."

"Exactly." Death responded softly.

"You good bro?" Strife asked.

"Better than I am most of the time so yeah, I guess I am."

Fury then placed a hand on his shoulder, "If you ever need it, we'll be there to support you. Be it during a, Creator forbid, flashback or if you have nightmares of the event."

"And Lilith rears her neck out far enough, I'll be sure to cut her off for you." War added on.

Death actually smiled behind the mask, glad to have this support. He actually began to chuckle a bit. Soon however, those chuckles sounded like he was trying to hide something behind them. War actually pats him on the back before giving him an awkward side hug. Death chuckled a bit more but appreciated the attempt anyway.

"Thank you.....all of you....I was...scared for the longest time.....that you wouldn't understand or that your reactions would be.....far worse than they are now."

Strife then joined in on the hug, "Ok, everybody in. You know the rules."

Death then begins to protest, "Wait no no no...."

Only for all three siblings to wrap him into a group hug. He could be heard grumbling the entire time.

"And there's Death again." Strife remarked.

"Right right right this is nice and all but get off of me." Death grumbled.

Finally they released him, but Strife asked him, "So you need a hug from Ma too?"

"No, already received that. I don't need her to get involved."

After having come by with C when they both heard a slight commotion, Gregory inquires, "Ok what's this about ye having a Mother?"

Death froze at that and quickly stood up, "None of your business Dwarf, go on."

"Nothing to see here, nothing to see here." Strife added on.

"Right, nothing to see here. Nothing to see here my ass. For one thing I just came across you lot hugging each other and all that. And you were being grumpier than I would expect." Gregory retorted.

Death would've said more, but then noticed an...interesting necklace, around C's neck. It had clay beads on it, with symbols that looked way too familiar. But he wanted to be certain, "Mind if I...take a look at that necklace?"

"Oh uh, sure. I'm used to people asking at this point, hell I'm used to their reactions too." C replies handing it over.

"You know what this is?" Death questions her.

"Beyond something that used to be around my ankle, not really."

Death examined the necklace closer and realized the symbols were actually Nephilim letters, "Where did you get this?"

Gregory stepped in, "She came to me with it. We found it as an anklet after she was rescued from Black Annis."

Death's eyes widen at the name Black Annis, "How were you saved by chance?"

"A man named Harker McCloud saved her, knew how to kill those beasts it seems. Course he didn't explain his method, only looked messed up to all he-......ehhhh....Horseman, are ye alright over there?" Gregory expressed.

Death then looked C over briefly, and noticed that not only were her eyes two separate colors, they were changing color every so often and most importantly......they were glowing like a Nephilim's, "I need to go confirm something with someone."

From there he found Wren and rushed to ask her, "Wren I need your point of view on this."

Wren then follows him back to where everyone is, and upon seeing C her own eyes widen. She's able to see the glowing line like tattoos hidden on C's body. She then asked Gregory, "How is you two met?"

"Like I was telling the Horseman over here, a man named Harker saved her."

"How old was she?" Wren pressed further.

"A baby, why?"

"Death, we need to find this Harker. Get more information." Wren states.

"I already know about Harker, he's a good friend. He's helped me out as much as I've helped him out." Death explains.

Strife adds in, "Yeah you remember the time you saves him from Leatherbeard?"

Death goes rigid and immediately says to Strife, "We agreed NEVER TO SPEAK OF HIM AGAIN. For MANY reasons."

Wren and C look at him concerned. But Gregory just groans, knowing the stories all too well from the occasional pirate come wandering into the tavern. "Ooooooi I've heard about that sadistic fuck. I always dreaded that man ever showing up at my tavern. C would probably allure that monster way too fucking easily, and he wouldn't even care about whatever her preference was. Hell he might even use it against her."

"Ok....just how bad is this man? And more importantly, who the HELL is he?" Wren inquires.

"Leatherbeard, aka Ralph Dingleberg. The most perverted, and depraved pirate I've ever had the misfortune of sharing a room with.." Death begins before eyeing Wren and War, "He reminds me of Lilith the most, out of all the most depraved, inhumane, people I've EVER MET. The MOST."

Wren gets shocked beyond belief and War just feels his skin crawl. He even nearly pukes just as Death continues further, "And apparently he can't seem to die. No matter how hard you try he KEEPS LIVING. AND LIKES WHATEVER DO TO HIM. I remember one time he shot himself out of cannon, then proceeded to maim, butcher, torture, and do far more debaucherous things to everyone on his enemy's ship."

Wren then finally says, "Well.....yet another reason why I can avoid sailing."

"Anyway, I need go by Harker's home. See if he's there and get more confirmation on....some things. Completely unrelated to that CRAZY FUCK." Death states wanting to get off the subject of Leatherbeard.

"Good luck Death, and when you return, I need to speak with you, alone." Wren expresses.

"Right, I'll see what I can do. Hopefully nothing else comes up."

Meanwhile as Death rode on to find Harker's home, Harker has found himself strung up to a mast on one of Uther's tallest ships. He was starving and in an emaciated state. Normally a few days without love wouldn't do this, but he'd been neglecting to find time to feed before being captured. Harker had originally been captured because he'd spoke highly of Death in public after seeing a wanted poster for him. Around him, a great dragon lion hybrid flew in circles. Uther's true form, greed and obsession incarnate as some might say. Uther circled around the mast for a time before settling to fly in front of Harker. The people had gathered to witness this, as was his intent.

"I will let go if you tell me the whereabouts of Death. And I may even let you have your way with some of my men, you look so famished after all."

Harker took a moment to catch his breath before responding, "Like I said before....I don't know where he is....and even if I did I wouldn't tell you. Besides....your men aren't that pretty to begin with....not my type...."

"You hold Death in great reverence. You must have some feelings for him, since you denied my men. So, to make it easier on you, I promise I won't harm him, badly. And I'll banish him from this kingdom, simple enough. And I'll give you a full pardon for raiding my privateers. So what do you say?"

Harker shut his eyes as Uther spoke to him and when it finally ended he said, "We haven't spoken in a long time....you're obviously not going to get anything from me....and there's no point in killing in me.....so just let me go please just let me go...."

Uther's hair and body go pale again as they did for Morgen that one night. He seems to come closer to Harker and almost obliges the plea. But just as suddenly, he shifts back, having caught himself in the moment. Uther grabs Harker by his head and begins to slowly tighten his grip. Hitting the soft spot that makes it all the more painful. Causing Harker to shriek in pain as Uther crushes his head.

He smiles in silence at his deed before saying, "You can make this stop, all I need is the location."

Harker's pain prevents him from speaking, and he ends up getting his head slammed into the mast. From there Uther, being highly annoyed now, begins searching Harker for a crystal. He manages to find one, and recalls how he found one on Death to call Strife with. He figures he'll lure Death to him in this way. He then makes the call, waiting for the recipient's answer.

"Harker, I'm on my way to your home. Be ready for some questioning."

Uther then hangs up the crystal, only for Death to call right back again, "Harker you there? Are you alright, you just hung up there for a second?".

Uther shoves the crystal in Harker's face, and quietly says, "Should you tell him, or should I?"

"IT'S AMBUSH, DON'T GO...!" Harker quickly shouts into it before Uther cuts him off.

He then takes over the call, "Well I was going to leave it as a surprise. But I guess we can't have nice things."

Death growls at Uther, "WHERE ARE YOU."

"Oh I'm here at port, with your dear friend. I was going to send some of my men to escort you here, but....I can assume you'll already be on your way. Besides, Harker is a bit under the weather at the moment. You may want to come get him, before he withers away."

"YOU HARM HIM IN ANY OTHER WAY...!"

"I would dream of that, besides, something as rare as him is worth a fortune to many people. I'm sure there's plenty of nobles who would want him, or even a particular pirate. One I've let into my waters on multiple occasions. And Leatherbeard has brought me several toys for me to use. Unless you were by chance to arrive, I don't like to be kept waiting." Uther states before going back up to Harker.

Just before he ends the call, Uther leaves a massive gash on Harker's chest. Harker's screech in pain is the last thing Death hears before the call hangs up again. He chucks the damn crystal away shouting in pure rage at the situation.

Crom then chose this as the time to speak, "Well that's not being very productive, now is it?"

"NOT THE TIME."

"If you want to survive, listen to me." Crom presses.

Death only growls in annoyance, "Shut IT."

"I'm just saying, I could be of assistance here."

Death only grows angrier, "If you don't shut up, I'm going to knock my head into this tree. Knocking us both out."

"That would delay the rescue, and you're on a time limit remember? That, and you know that wouldn't work. I'd still be capable of picking through your head. Just because you're unconscious doesn't mean I'M unconscious. I'm in your head. So, wanna hear me out or do you want to try and cook up some scheme?"

"Anything would be better than what YOU have in store." Death retorted.

"Fine if you to wish to go on a suicide mission. Remember, he did strike you through a wall."

"And I Harvester this time, surely that would even the playing field. Besides, I killed Absalom, he hit harder this bastard does. Even I can't beat him, it'll be a good distraction for me to get Harker out of there." Death explains.

Crom shakes his head a bit, "So self sacrificial....that's why I like you.", then goes silent again.

Death sighs to himself before riding out to go get Harker. With Despair's help, he makes the distance in about three hours. He hoped he wouldn't be too late to reach Harker. Finding the port, and the mast Harker was on proved easy, too easy actually. When seeing Harker wasn't moving, he has to resist the urge to throw caution to the wind and go straight for him. Instead, Death keeps his wits whilst hoping in his mind that his friend hadn't died. He sends Dust to go check on him, and Dust does so. Not even cawing when he lands, only lightly pecking at Harker.

He jolts and actually hisses at Dust before realizing it's him, "Dust? Are you.....?"

Dust gives a light squawk before gesturing to Death. Death then puts his index to mask where his mouth would be behind it. Harker manages to nod and tries to stay awake as Death makes his way over to him. Watching as Death dove into the water and swam to the ship. From there he climbs through a gunport and then begins to take out any and all guards there. Only subduing though, leaving all alive but knocked out to high hell. He keeps an eye out for Uther as best he can, but sees nothing yet. Finally he reaches the stairs going to on deck, and slowly goes up them. He then looks around and checks for any trouble on deck. Death doesn't see Uther, but notices various guards around. Seeing he needs to find a way to knock everyone out at the same time, he summons forth mystical, incapacitating mist. From there the men above deck all pass out, dropping like flies. Once everyone is asleep, he changes it into a shadowy mist instead, to hide himself and Harker once he's got him. Sighing he turns Harvester into shuko climbing claws, although it may as well have been an after thought. Death was already quite the athlete to begin with, he just wanted to be certain in case he messed up. As extremely rare as such a case was. He begins climbing, getting even more paranoid as he got closer to Harker.

Eventually he reaches Harker, "Idiot, you....shouldn't have come..."

"And leave you behind? Don't be the moron you think I am. Now zip it." Death says simply.

Harker complies and once freed he informs Death, "I can....change into my snake form...if it makes this easier..."

"Just in case it would be great."

Harker obliges again, and wraps around Death's neck. Occasionally he coils tighter in pain, but tries not to choke him as Death climbs down.

Eventually though, Death has to tell him, "Ack...easy..."

"Sorry......still sting in a few areas." Harker whispers in hidden pain.

Death soon landed on the deck with a quiet thump of his boots. He darted his head around quickly in case anyone heard him, but still saw no sign of Uther.

Harker gave a light nudge in response, "What's wrong....?"

"He's not here. Where is he? He's not here I don't see him."

"He flew off, said he had.....other business to attend to. Retrieving his daughter...." Harker replied.

"Shit!" Death whisper-shouted before hurrying to leave the boat.

As Death rides on, heading towards Vortigern's home, Harker began to feel a small searing pain. He began breathing heavily and went limp as the pain drained him.

Death feels Harker go limp and actually panicks a bit. He pushes Despair to go faster and soon makes it there. Only for Harker be in even more pain when they arrive. To the point that as soon as Death hops from Despair's saddle, Harker falls from his neck. Death quickly catches him and hurries inside shouting for Merlin, "MERLIN I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE HERE!"

Merlin comes from his room looking like a mess, "Aiiiiiiie.......What in the fuck are you needing me for n......oh shit."

From there Merlin goes to work aiding Harker and Death is pacing in rising panic. "What's wrong? He's..."

"Convulsing in pain I know....let me figure it out." Merlin explains as he searches for the problem. He then notices Harker's emaciated state, "Might I inquire on why he looks like this?"

"He's starving. Will that make helping him harder?"

"Hmm....dealing with someone who's currently starving tends to heighten the chance of death. What does he feed on?" Merlin questions.

"Love! He's a Leanan Sidhe." Death expresses in growing concern.

"Hmm? I may have bottled a pure version of love a long time ago. It's a long story, managed to bottle it, anyway...", Merlin tells him before pulling a bottle of red fluid. It looked like glowing liquid glitter.

Death has to ask, "And what do you intend to do with that?"

"Feed it to him, he feeds on love and this the purest and most potent concentration of it. Now hold your friends mouth open. I need to make sure he swallows it."

Death does so and tells Harker, "I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to do this."

Harker then feels the liquid pouring down his tiny throat and begins swallowing so he doesn't choke. He tastes his favorite 'normal' food ever, dark chocolate. His little tail begins swishing back and forth a bit as he drinks it. He then suddenly feels a burst of energy and begins to glow a little. Gaining a strange little pink aura around him as he begins to roll around, apparently being in a certain mood now. Death knows exactly which one too, given the sudden purr like sounds he's hearing.

Death begins to snicker and tells Merlin, "Hold him."

"No no no no no no no no....I'm going to bed, you take care of him."

"What if the pain comes back?"

"THIS SHIT CURES CURSES." Merlin shouts before walking off finally.

Death then goes to find some helping hands, and sees Puck coming back, "Puck I need you to take care of him. This is a friend of mine, go easy on him."

Puck just looks at him confused, "Uhm....why is vibrating, glowing, and making strange noises. And moving all weird like."

"He's in one of those....moods."

Puck gives him a stinkeye, "So you give him to the sex addict, to take care of it? Smart play smart play."

Death gulps and hopes for the best, then goes to get some sleep. Meanwhile Puck brings Harker to his room and questions him, "Ok...what's going on here?"

"I was in pain earlier, now I feel soooo good. They used a strange red glittery potion on me."

"Apparently it's one hell of an aphrodisiac." Puck remarks.

"Well they did say....it was essentially liquid love...."

"And you drank it anyway. Are you sure it was red? Because I've heard about little blue pills that cause these kinds of things?" Puck partially jests.

"I was starving....and Merlin said my chances of dying from the pain were higher....so I had to drink it." Harker says coiling up tightly now.

Puck facepalms, "What the hell are ya?"

"A Leanan Sidhe good sir....." Harker replies.

"Oh...that's explains a lot actually. Well I can actually help ya metabolize it. But you're gonna need to be more...humanoid for this to work."

Harker then turns into his Fae self, and DEFINITELY looks more horny than he did before. He's also still glowing like bonkers. "Well.....what do you think? My clothes aren't so presentable but....."

"Get on the bed I'll show ya a good time."

"Mind the new scar though, it's a bit sensitive." Harker implores him.

"Alright."

Meanwhile Death finds himself having another nightmare and begins tossing in his sleep heavily. Morgen actually senses it and gets the urge to check on him and does so. Finding him in bed tossing to and fro, she gently lays her hand on his shoulder. From there she is suddenly pulled into his nightmare. She sees him strapped down onto a rack and begging to be let go. Pleading for someone, anyone, to help him. Morgen immediately goes to do so and Death upon seeing her doesn't recognize her. As all he can see is a being encased in a light blue light, and the outline of horns on her head. He begins thrashing more at seeing that detail, but then he hears Morgen's voice telling him,

"Death be still, I'm here, I'm getting you out of here."

"What.....who are you? You're familiar, somehow." Death inquires a bit unsure.

"I'm here Death, just keep calm. I won't let her hurt you further." Morgen replies before placing her hands on the chains on his wrists.

They suddenly snap apart and Morgen quickly places her hands on his ankle chains. Once they also snap, Death quickly gets up and scurries backwards away from the rack. Morgen then calmly tells him, "Go now, run. You're free."

He does so and soon sees a white light ahead of him. When rushing into it, he finds himself in a pretty field. One that's full of colorful wildflowers with their fragrance on the breeze. It all felt so real to him. The next thing he knew, a floating white sheep suddenly bumped into his back. Turning around, he saw more floating over. Where that had once been a hallway of Lilith's home, there was only more of this beautiful field. Just then, he saw a proper glimpse of his savior. Rushing closer, he realized that it was indeed Morgen, only she had small sheep like horns. She glanced to him with a sweet smile before calmly saying, "Enjoy the peace tonight."

Death then heard a similar voice behind him, "You'll need a clear head for what's to come."

He turned again to find a woman that looked very similar to Morgen, with the same type of horns as well. Then with a sudden flash of light from both sides, Morgen and the mystery woman were gone. Death, despite his confusion, laid down upon the grass. Relaxing within the calming field. Meanwhile in the waking world, Morgen came to and slowly stood up to leave. However, she suddenly felt dizzy. She managed to make her way outside, only to collapse a ways down the hall.

Barrcus hears the thud and goes outside his room with Mina to check, "Is someone out here?", then upon looking down, "Morgen!"

He gently checked her over and rolled her onto her back in his arms. It caused him some pain to be holding her whilst crouching, but he had to be sure she was alright. He begins to stroke her head, but feels some bumps on her head. He figures she needs a bed straight away and asks for Mina's help. Mina then aids him into getting Morgen back to her bed.

"I felt two bumps Barrcus, should I check her head?"

"Yes let's."

Mina does so with Barrcus watching her closely, and when parting Morgen's hair, they found what looked like a tiny horn forming in her head. It was a blunt, miniscule thing, but still a concerning sight.

"That's a horn, must be. But why?" Mina questions in a mix of fear and worry.

"I have no idea. I'll keep an eye on her, you get some rest ok?" Barrcus states.

"Very well, just wake me if anything happens."

"I'll try." Barrcus informs her before Mina heads off.

Barrcus settles for stroking Morgen's head gently, despite the horns being there. He actually tapped one of them before Morgen made an annoyed groan in her sleep. She could clearly feel them from what he could tell. Barrcus then grasped her hand and continued to hold it through the night. Meanwhile Death got interrupted from his sleep by an extremely late visitor. He groaned and got up begrudgingly. He half expected either Puck or Harker. Instead he was met with Wren, in a simple lace nightgown. He couldn't help but think back to those nights he'd spend with her way back when.

"Uhm.....I would say this is a little unexpected but....not unwelcomed."

"I need to talk to you, and I can't wait any further. Please Death, can we speak to each other now?" Wren pleads with him.

Death sighed, "Uhm...sure."

He then lets Wren into the room, closing the door behind her. Fuzzball meanwhile yawns on a tiny bed in the corner whilst Dust is asleep on a perch. Wren then hugs Death, holding him close to her. Death isn't sure how to react for the longest time, but soon reciprocates her embrace. He can't remember readily how long it was since he'd held her like this. Admittedly it felt nice to have this sort of moment again, but he had a sinking feeling that it'd be the last one they'd have.

Once the two finally released each other, Wren told him, "I wanted to test and see if I could feel pleasure with you still. My race is rather weird about sex but essentially we can only have children with whom we view as equals. However, we also can only feel pleasure if we love the other person. Morgen and I did discuss it, and she gave me the ok to try this, in case you're wondering."

"I find this to be a bad idea, but if you want to continue on, I will be fine." Death assures her.

"If you say so. I'm only doing this because....I'm scared." Wren expresses hugging herself a bit.

"What are you scared of exactly?"

"That this test will be for not. That I've....you know...." Wren begins having a hard time saying it aloud.

"That you don't love me. Right now I wouldn't blame you. Given that I buried you alive with what were practically the living dead next to you. Among other reasons. Look, I find this to be extremely awkward, but if you want to go through with this we can. But if you're not feeling comfortable with any of this, we can just end this here. And get some needed rest. I'm certainly in desperate need of it."

Wren hugs herself tighter and thinks on it before saying, "I knew I should've waited until tomorrow before asking this.....the last thing I want to do is bother you.....I just can't sleep with this fear in my head....I'm well and truly scared that I've already lost my love for you."

"You do realize there are other forms of love? Friendship is one, family is another. But then again, it's not losing love that you're afraid of, is it? I still remember Wren, how you hated it whenever I left you alone. I was too afraid to disobey my elder brother too far. While you, you were terrified of being alone. You hated it so much that you always plead with me to stay with you. Wanting me to remain longer, or to flat out leave my kin for you. Neither of which I could ever fulfill. Hell, I even blocked the memories of you and our child because I couldn't bare it anymore after I lost both of you. How sad and pathetic is that, seriously?"

"What....what are you saying?"

Death wrapped an arm around her and sat her down beside him on the bed, "Wren, I don't think you need this test to prove anything. You're only clinging to me because for the longest time, I was all you had. I was the only person you spent your days with, and when I was gone, you rarely left the house. You told me this yourself once, so I remember it clearly. You told me I was all you had left, that I was your purpose, your reason to keep living on without your family. Wren, I don't deserve you. Not after everything I put you through. You deserve someone better. Besides, if our suspicions about C are correct, you won't be alone. You'll have someone to care for."

Wren began to sob, partially because her concerns were realized. But also out of relief, strangely enough. She hugged Death again, who obliged right away this time, sensing she needed it. Death made sure to make this final act of love count. As much as he cared for Wren, he knew she couldn't be happy with him. She needed to find herself someone who could do what he failed to do. He had to let her go, so she could be free to find herself in her own way. Wren soon calmed down but remained in his arms longer, wanting to be sure this moment would be among those happiest memories of Death.

[emmdaenovice]

Towards a better future #1

Daminete

#1

next

So I should probably put a few trigger warnings on this

Ah, suicide, abuse, um… depression, mature readers only?

On a cool night in Pairs Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood alone on the highest spot on the Eiffel tower she could climb to while not being a danger to herself and a potential nasty mess on the sidewalk. She looked at the stars hiding behind a thick layer of cloud, or at least she imagined they were there, silently sparkling looking down on all. thinking that holding onto faith is only easy thing to do when its something physical, like the stars. As you see her faith was slowly wavering, mostly due to her miraculous partner Chat Noir but also Paris’ civilians, and. Herself.

It all began barely a month ago, it’s amazing how Marinette’s world could change this much in a small matter of time. She and her parents traveled to China to visit her Uncle, Wing Cheng, partially to escape from the stress of school life (a holiday) and also because of the grand finale of the D.A.B,’s cooking competition. Which no one was surprised when it was announced that Wing was winning. Marinette was so excited for so many reasons, she would be able to see her extended family again and get some more ideas for this new jacket she’s working on, and new inspiration, all the colours, flora, fauna, people, trends, smells, people, places, things!… She had to remind herself daily that she as Marinette Dupain-Cheng could to do all of those things but, she wasn’t just here as Mari. No, what not many people know is that Ladybug and Chat Noir planned to meet in Beijing for a secret mission to involve more miraculous holders and guardians in their mission to defeat Hawkmoth.

The plan started when Chat Noir informed Ladybug that he would be unavailable due to the psychopathic wishes of his father, forcing him to relocate for a few months.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had become closer and closer with each fight they won together and now found themselves in a sibling like relationship. They knew almost everything about each other, except their identities. Which neither of them really knew why but resorted to the explanation of the danger it would cause if one of them was compromised. To say that they trusted each other with everything was an understatement. Because of this Ladybug knew there was nothing she could do about Chat Noir leaving, the fact that the father managed to be a helicopter parent, an absent parent and a psychopath with trust issuers all in one makes her head spin. So, she decided she would make the best of the situation.

Marinette began to pull stings to make sure everything fell into place perfectly, she encouraged Wing to compete in the D.A.B’s, began letting cracks in her emotions show through to her family more than usual, asked if they were going on any upcoming trips, she researched and planned way into the night for months, this would be the most successful trip Ladybug and Chat Noir took together in the history of miraculous. They would find help, and they will take down Hawkmoth. Chat Noir bid his good buy to ladybug and the semi-permanent team of miraculous holders consisting of Rena Rouge, Carapace, Viperion and Ryuko. Ladybug then explained that she was also going to be out of area for a while but will always have the miraculous of teleportation on her for Akuma purification and emergencies. She trusted the group with small Akuma’s but didn’t think Alya and Nino really took the job seriously, Marinette blames herself for not giving the Kawami better matching holders.

So, the plans were set, everything was ready, she was ready.

Chat Noir and ladybug often conversed and went through the plan of attack through the days after Ladybugs arrival. To be honest that’s false, they were trying to find the bloody thing, the entrance to Hunan’s miraculous league. They found information on it thanks to the miraculous book and some odd new posts hidden deep within the internet. One might think that this was a long shot and it was, but it was the only shot they had. They needed adults, people with expert knowledge on battle strategies, physical and mental training, detective skills, … someone with a car. Literally anything would help, they both agreed that nothing would get worse in this situation as why they were trying their best to find it. Oh boy how they were wrong.

When they finally found it, they were ecstatic, so excited to learn more and to finally get help, but they were met with unenthusiastic faces. It seems that this ancient place only held artifacts of the past, no trainers, no holders, no guardians not even Miraculous. To say they were heartbroken would be an understatement. Marinette found herself slipping through the superhero façade as a single tear fell as soon as they were out of the temple, which soon was followed by more until they turned in to full on sobs as Chat Noir held his lady tight whispering sweet nothings into her hair. She knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up, she tries to always expect the worse when it comes to new material on miraculous and hero work, but she couldn’t help herself. Just this one time she hopped things would go her way. After a while she calmed down and realised how she was truly thankful for her partner, the beautiful heart and hair of gold, mischievous little tom cat, her Chat Noir. They conversed and decided to take a deeper look at all of the artefacts the next day to see if they missed something, and to also discover where the mysterious aura within the temple walls was coming from.

They returned to Paris the next day at an alarming pace as they both realised that they haven’t been called over to help in any battles all week let alone purify any Akuma. They both came up with possible scenarios that would explain their absence but most of them were impossible or much in the worse scenario possible category. When they arrived in Paris they found that everything was quite normal, everything seemed to be in place, they located the hero’s and discovered that Hawkmoth hasn’t attacked in quite some time… This freaked the duo even more so. The heroes have been looking after petty crimes for the past 7 days without any suspicious activity at all. Well at least Viperion and Ryuko have. It seems that Rena Rouge and carapace have been keeping up the social experience of the team, to an extent where they were over sharing. Ladybug was furious at this for first not telling her about the suspicious activity (and yes no activity counts as suspicious activity) and secondly for sharing private information about their hero work to the public. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe what she was feeling especially when she found out that Rena Rouge was sharing yet again information, but about the hero’s personal lives, and even identity on Alya’s blog. This time she had gone too far. Chat Noir stood besides his lady silently supporting her as she disciplined his friends, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t mad, he thought he could trust them with more than this, they broke his trust.

It might be because Chat Noir’s and Ladybugs spirits were already broken but they were seriously thinking of the next best step to take as permanent miraculous holder and guardian. Drastic measures such as demoting them to normal civilians was thrown around, but they decided against that, instead they planned to revisit the situation when their civilian identities came back home, and their minds refreshed. They spent the rest of that day checking out potential suspects relating to Hawkmoth. When It came to Gabriel Agreste they weren’t sure how high or low to put him on the list of suspects, but when they visited his mansion to find that he was absent struck a cord with Marinette. She knew something was wrong. Chat Noir didn’t seem too keen on looking around the place determined that his father was a good person.

‘He just doesn’t seem like the type of guy you know?’

‘Chat I don’t think anyone thinks that a fourteen-year-old could ever be Ladybug, suspects are suspects’

When Chat wouldn’t tell her why he was acting weird Ladybug dismissed it as Him just feeling weird being in her old crushes house.

Ladybug found herself feeling off in the house, an especially when it came to Gabrielle’s study, a feeling in the pit of her stomach like a void sending sparks down her legs. They let Kaalki explore the room as they had her on handy, exited to be in a famous person’s study she eagerly obliged to snooping around the room. She zoomed quickly around the room knocking over books and papers, which Chat Noir quickly put back into place, as she finally took a plunge into the floor. They both stood there for a minute conversing in whether a Kawami can get stuck in the ground or not, but didn’t have to act as Kaalki soon flew out beneath the floorboards slower than before with a grim look on her face.

‘Well, what did you see?’ Chat said eagerly wondering what the Kawami found. Forgetting to drop a pun in the process. The Kawami only looked solemnly at the guardian.

‘I advise you to never go down their” she said, almost afraid of the words she spoke

‘Kaalki, why? What’s down there?’ Ladybug spoke, the Kawami squirmed and Chats face paled. What could be down there? What could be down there that a Kawami that has been around for thousands of years is afraid of?

‘I do not wish to speak the horrors. But I can confirm that Gabriel Agreste is in fact Hawkmoth’ her words hung beneath them like a dead man swinging side to side by a noose.

‘What.’ Was all Chat Noir could say. His mind a mess filled with memories and arguments. Finding there was two sides of himself, one that always knew and one who knows he’s innocent.

‘Are you sure’ Ladybug said grimly. meanwhile Chat Noir sat down on his father’s desk staring at the painting of his mother, his emotions running astray within his heart.

“my guardian I am sure as the sky is blue.’ Kaalki looked up at the duo both with horror and sorrow in their eyes, ‘There is refinance of the torcher of Kawami down there as well as a room filled with butterfly’s and Akuma alike. Not to mention a motive for his wish’ she continued.

‘We need to get down their’ Chat Noir decided.

‘You can’t access the tunnels from here there all been sealed off mechanically.’ She thinks for a moment ‘We can open it with Hawkmoth present’

Ladybug thought for a minute, she doesn’t want to attack a man without seeing the proof herself… But she trusts the words of her Kawami ‘Ok’ Ladybug decides ‘lets go find Gabriel Agreste’.

‘I’m glad you decided on this, It is the best to have a clear head while defeating Hawkmoth and this room will do quite the opposite’ Ladybug feeling true terror within her for a moment then turned to Chat Noir.

‘We have to find Gabriel Agreste’ she said with a determining tone ‘if I was an evil mastermind, where would I be if I weren’t at my house?’ Ladybug thought out loud. Finally coming to her senses she sees Chat Noir on the floor.

‘Hey, you ok?’ she sits down next to him and pulls him into a hug ‘Perhaps Hawkmoth has gone to catch butterfly’s’ she laughs trying to make light of the mood, trying to put a smile on his face. But Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste has never felt more conflicted in his life, his emotions were tearing him up inside, all he felt like doing was crying. He would be safe in his lady’s lap, within the embrace of his partner, his best friend, she would listen to him. ‘heck maybe he’s taken a vacation to Hawaii.’ Chat Noir jolts out of Ladybugs arms, quickly remembering where his father is and why he might be there.

“He’s in China.’ he spoke as if there was a hair ball in his mouth.

‘What.’ Ladybugs eyes wide as he has ever seen them ‘Chat what do you mean?’

‘Ladybug. Gabriel Agreste is in China.’

The statement dropped out of the cat’s mouth and rolled around the floor. This is bad. It couldn’t be, that he was also looking for the hidden miraculous association in Hunan like they were… right? No, of course not. Probably, because everything that can go wrong must.

The pair teleported to the temple once again fighting large tree branches in the way, they had no time to care for the nature in the way of their path. They had to get to the association as soon as possible, they had to make sure that everyone was ok, sure they were unhelpful but that doesn’t mean they deserve to suffer at the hands of Hawkmoth. Questions like these and more flowed through their head faster than a cat jumping out of water like; what was Kaalki  so afraid of, is Gabriel really Hawkmoth, where do my parents think I am now, what am I going to do now, will we win? After all these years of fighting finally will we win.

They ran towards the temple stopping halfway to catch their breath, understanding that if Hawkmoth was there that he would feel the presence of the portal but still silently cursing Kaalki for not bringing them closer. A scream was taken out of their lungs as large boom thundered across the forest accompanied by a large dust storm and the deepest colour of orange licking the tips of the sky. Someone had blown up the temple. Who were they kidding hawkmoth had blown up the temple. All that ancient memorabilia, the history, the connection to the miraculous, even the old farts that occasionally dust the entrance. All gone. All obliterated by the hands of one man, and for what?

‘Milady theirs something I need-‘

‘There he is’ Ladybug points at a shadow emerging from the debris ‘let’s go Chat’ she extends her hand to him, he pauses for a second then grasps her hand tight.

‘I would go anywhere with you my lady’ Kaalki quickly teleports the duo directly behind their villain of four consistent years. He turns noticing the presence, but Ladybug quickly wrapped her yo-yo around him. She pulled on the strong fiber forcing him onto the ground.

‘Gabriel Agreste’ Ladybug yelled in the most fearsome Guardian like tone Chat Noir has ever heard. To both heroes surprise Hawkmoth lifted his head off the ground looking them both in the eye

‘Ah beetlebug and kittycat, I would say I’m surprised but honestly, it took you long enough’ he spat, quite confident for a trapped man. ‘I suppose that’s what I get for fighting a bunch of children’ he huffed.

‘Well these children kept you busy for four years now didn’t we!’ Chat Noir yelled. ‘fuck you’ he said less confidently his voice breaking, both unable to move an inch towards their captive, like a moment in time that froze completely

‘I had certain obstacles in my way preventing me from defeating you, if I had a powerful miraculous this little game of cat and mouse would be over a lot quicker’

‘So, you got angry when you didn’t find any here and blew up a sacred miraculous temple?!’ she yelled her arms shaking a little from the adrenaline, unable to explain this monsters thought process

‘No, no, no little girl, I’m afraid you aren’t quite right’

‘Don’t belittle us, you’re the one trapped’ Chat Noir said growling, like a hungry beast in front of its prey.

Hawkmoth began to laugh manically ‘That’s where your wrong foolish boy, I’m right where I want to be. Don’t you know what happens if you back a wild animal into a corner?’ Chat shakes in fury as this grown man, his father laughs at him. All of those years of looking up to him, trying to get him to be proud of him, acting as the best child one could have, … all those years fighting for his life, dying again and again for the sake of his lady for the sake of taking him down. All for what. Chat controlled by rage silently walked towards the man, looked at him in the eyes, those deep dark eyes holding horrors he never wants to see. This man has tortured him for years mentally, physically and emotionally in all meanings of the word, he wanted him to pay. It was time for Adrien Agreste to finally get his revenge. With all the force he could muster he kicked his father in the ribs, feeling or maybe imagining the satisfying crack of ribs underneath his boot. One part of him thought he should be sad, but all he felt was empty. Hawkmoth coughed and wined in pain looking up at Chat smiling.

‘Is that all you got? Pussy’ his laugh this time was cut off by chats fist finding its place on garbles cheek.

‘Chat that’s enough’ Ladybug said a solemn look on her face. He looked at her and stood back.

‘Oh, I see, the little stray has an owner.’ he laughs ‘Come on ladybug give it a go! Hit me! Though I doubt you could hurt me with that tiny whore body of yours‘ he laughs one again and ladybug turns away, she knows that Hawkmoth wants to rile them up, no matter what he throws at her she won’t give in to what he wants, she will not give control to him. Chat Noir however couldn’t say the same, he wanted to follow the rules of his lady but Hawkmoth was laying in front of him completely defenseless asking for a beating ‘Oh oh I’ve got it the bitch owns the bitch’ that was the last straw for chat Noir he tackled his father the one that helped bring him into existence and started beating him unable and unwilling to hold back.

Ladybug was frozen in time afraid of her partner, afraid of how violent he had become, though she didn’t blame him. The sheer force of his attacks and the emotion behind them, such raw hatred, she’d never seen her best friend like this before. That small moment in time was all it took. Both heroes distracted one hitting the terrorist which forced the entirety of Paris under extreme pain, and the other afraid of her most trusted friend, her partner of four years. Kaalki’s glasses were slid off ladybugs head and placed into the hand of Myura. The ladybug yelped in terror as she realised a plant like looking Amok had stolen the miraculous from atop her head with its long wipe like vines. Chat also looked up from his pray in time for him to be thrown off Hawkmoths body like a sack of potatoes. Before chat could get up off the ground, he was hold tight by the forest monster as he found his lady was as well. Hawkmoth was slowly picked up off the ground by the vines and placed on his feet. His bloody face dripping with crimson and slight black bruises starting to form where Chat punched him repeatedly. How could they forget about Myura, how could they forget? They should have just transported Hawkmoth to Paris then and there, they should have tied him up, they should have checked their surroundings, they’re ladybug and Chat Noir for miraculous sake they heroes. Heroes don’t make stupid mistakes like this, freezing up when things are finally going their way. No. real heroes would have done better. They’re not heroes they failed Paris they failed the guardians before them they failed themselves. The only thing that they are is children. Scared children trying to save the day in feeling like adults dressing up in their parents clothing. How could this have happened?

‘You won’t get away with this Hawkmoth” ladybug yelled ‘Our miraculous don’t belong in the hands of evil. Good will always find a way, and it will punish you for you evil doings, the terror you have spread across Paris and now the world, if not us then the next.’ She spoke proudly as if she had won the battle, her words spoken like a true hero like a true guardian. Hawkmoth was steadied by Myura, as she gave him Kaalki’s miraculous, looking at them like she had said something strange

‘If you kill us now you will regret it, the weight of two innocent, in your word’s children, weighing on your soul for eternity. Don’t you have a kid? Adrien?’ This got Hawkmoths attention ‘He’s about the same age as us, what will you see when you look at him. Will it all be worth it? all this death and tragedy for a wish? A wish that will blow up in your face?’ Chat finished wanting to back up what Ladybug said in his own way. Hawkmoth laughed once again as if Chat had said something funny, for a moment Adrien wondered what type of face Hawkmoth would make when her realises he had killed his own child, would he laugh, just as he is now? Would he be happy that the burden of his perfect son would be gone?

Ha sorry to end it like that

I’m sorry but we wont see the romantic side for a couple of chapters but it’s coming soon I promise!

Tell me if you hate it ~

[neven-ebrez]

Supernatural's Narrative Structure Throughout the Years (Read More edition)

Supernatural has seen four showrunners (with one consistent one throughout, Robert Singer), which are: Eric Kripke, Sera Gamble, Jeremy Carver and now, Andrew Dabb.  At the beginning, the show focused on a more simplistic method of storytelling; the protagonists Sam and Dean Winchester went up against urban legends while looking for their elusive father.  Thirteen seasons later and this pilot season marks the only true exception to the show’s narrative structure. Starting in season 2 the show adopts a method of storytelling known as the A/B/C structure.  There is a “A” plot (known as the show’s “mytharc”), its “B” plot (its character development arc, usually shown through the lens of Dean Winchester, but the show frequently, especially in its later years, shows this through others), and then finally, its “C” plot, which exists in the form of “filler episodes” referred to as “Monsters of the Week”, or MOTW for the purposes of the meta writing community.  And it is through this mirrored structure that the complete story of Supernatural is told.

Dean Winchester is the show’s lens of righteousness (earlier on, but this shifts from time to time) and it is through him that the adopted structure of the show reveals both its strength and weakness.  Dean has learned not to talk about his hard life and frequently when he is begged to share his feelings, they are dismissed (unfortunately by Sam, Bobby, and Cas at various points) in favor of the show’s enforcement of toxic masculinity (oh, drama!) to maintain such structure needed to support a static two lead format.  Instead of Dean talking about his feelings, they are told through the show’s MOTW characters and situations.  This process is referred to as “the ‘C’ plot mirrors the 'B’ plot”, discussed further in length here and here.  Because of the various degrees of repression carried by our main characters, the show uses other characters to tell their stories with words.  The show often also creates whole characters to represent ideas, both simple (Bela Talbot, S3) and complex (Amara, S11). Almost every character that is not Sam and Dean, especially in the  seasons, is created and crafted to tell the story of them.  This creates situations where the show is frequently problematic in its social message/image because it’s using a multitude of diverse often under represented characters to tell the story of two white textually straight male leads, and then later, its two most often recurring regulars.  Because these things are not socially equal, the show endures quite a lot of justified criticism as a result.

Bela Talbot is the first structural case of simple mirroring being done (although her character was requested at the behest of the network, true, the manner in which they utilized her is entirely significant).  I think it’s first important, however, to talk about how Kripke crafted the show using the structure.  He talked about how in the end he wanted good Dean versus bad Sam.  This, of course, focuses the early structure of the show to align Sam with darkness and damning decisions. All of season two pushes Sam onto a dark path exploring his cursed demon blood powers while Dean tries desperately to stop this.  Season 3 introduces Bela, a narrative mirror for Dean to show what would happen to Dean if Sam wasn’t in his life.  She IS DEAN, but WITHOUT a Sam in her life.  And for her, this spells doom as she desperately tries to avoid the fate of her deal with a Crossroads Demon (a deal she made to avoid child sex abuse, a stand in comparison to Dean’s robbed childhood which the show would later revisit heavily in season 11).  The structure of the season 3 is relatively simple.  Bela was supposed to die while Dean is saved from his deal’s fate by Sam, effectively showing that while Sam is doing some dark things, that they are justified through the means to save Dean (a common moral stance Supernatural would come to depict over and over again).  This, of course, doesn’t get to happen.  The writers strike of 2007-08  forces Kripke to abandon this structure in favor of simply sending Dean to Hell.  Our first attempt at a predictive narrative structure thus fails.  It is not discarded, however, and our first successful implementation of it is in season 4.

In season 4 the writers are met with the tough task of getting Dean quickly out of Hell and so Angels are introduced.  This would prove to be a major turning point in the show’s success and its ultimate current structure some 9 seasons later. The introduction of Angels, while initially desired to be temporary was fully embrace with the introduction of Castiel as portrayed by Misha Collins.  This mythology introduction gave Kripke the perfect way to have good Dean versus bad Sam  in the form of Michael versus Lucifer, and old tell of rebellious siblings confronting one another in an ultimate fight.  Here, the show begins its ultimate structure towards this alignment, with the demon Ruby pulling Sam towards Lucifer and Castiel pulling Dean towards Michael (or, well, stopping Sam, as pulling Dean towards Michael is actually a goal of Zachariah in Season 5 instead of it being a goal of Castiel).

In season 4, all the characters (even Sam and Dean) and episodes (frequently showing the release of “seals” which bind Lucifer) are being used as functions towards a single goal, the release of Lucifer.  It was a simple and clean straight forward structure that allowed flow into a cohesive storyline, which remains the best of Supernatural’s structure and storytelling even to this day imo, It also allowed individuality (and the exploration of what it means to have humanity) to blossom within the addition of Castiel (originally only slated to be a 3 episode character), though the character could still be simplified into Dean with Sam’s bad choices.  Castiel would not start becoming his own character (instead of a character mirror or narrative concept) until much later in the series, though he would still be often regaled to simply serving the “B” plot of Dean, eventually getting a permanent “B” plot with him, thus cementing his importance in Dean’s life and within the show’s newer, complex structure.  

Season 5 saw the end of Kripke’s vision, but with one problem.  The show was getting a renewal.  We can see through season 5’s structure that Kripke intended Sam and Dean to die together in the Devil’s hole, unable to kill one another due to their love.  Against renewal and in an effort to salvage the sacrifice structure, we are instead introduced to Adam, a half brother who would instead receive Dean’s fate.  The season builds and compounds a sense of hopeless in our characters, both desperate to not play a part in Heaven’s games. Our mytharc and MOTW episodes in season 5 exist to drive this sense of compounding inevitability.  It is a structure not as clean as season 4’s but mainly because it has the same problem as season 3’s: the ending had to be changed. But meanwhile the show had another problem: “Where do you go after the Apocalypse?” It would not be a problem tackled by Kripke, but instead long time writer Sera Gamble, as Supernatural experienced its first showrunner change.  

With the departure of Kripke came the beginning of structural chaos and uncertainty.  Season 6 is driven by questions that seemingly have no answer against a plot that had just been done.  The Apocalypse was being put back on the rails and Castiel was dealing with it mostly offscreen, unlike Sam and Dean who, as leads, got to deal with it visibly in every episode in season 5.  This caused the audience to not experience the sense of urgency and desperation that Castiel is going through and it proves to be a structural weakness throughout the whole season as Sam and Dean deal with the fallout of Castiel’s righteousness in the form of Sam’s hell damage from his damaged soul in the cage and Crowley’s experiments on monsters, which is seemingly without purpose until the end of the season draws near and we finally see the importance the monsters hold.  Banished of Lucifer, the recurring addition of Crowley provides the show with a central point in which Hell things will now operate going forward.  This is the season in which Castiel begins the pattern making the mistakes of Sam.  And it is from this point that the show’s mirrored storytelling reaches new heights, most of which are predictable, unfortunately. Just as Sam and Dean release Lucifer, Cas releases the Leviathan into the world and thus we are shuttled into season 7, Apocalypse 2.0, monster edition (instead of angels/demons).  

Season 7 saw the ultimate weakness of the two lead structure, while the show headed down an already trotted path against massively failing ratings.  It is here that Gamble killed off both Bobby and Castiel while dumping a massive amount of emotional baggage onto Sam and Dean from which the show (and characters) seemed unlikely to recover from, buried in the Friday Night death slot.  Here, the season introduced a true structured  “B” plot for Dean and Cas, but it remained in the mirrored structure only, seeing as how Cas was effectively DEAD.  It is given in the form of grief and suffering, as per Gamble’s favored depiction of the show.  Not only were things hopeless, but everyone Sam and Dean cared about were dead (oh look, it’s season 13′s premise as well!).  The structures of Gamble era were driven primarily with a focus towards sorrow and suffering and while it’s true that the Leviathans (as compared to the totally delightful, but utterly senseless wanderings of season 6) were an interesting metaphor for corporate America’s greed and monstrosity, this did little to enrich and progress Sam and Dean as characters who were headed for anywhere except death.  And it is here we enter Carver era.

Replacing Gamble as showrunner was another long time writer for the show, Jeremy Carver.  Helming and writing with fresh eyes from having been away for a while, Carver era saw the dawn of a new light in the show.  It is often called a reboot of the show.  Castiel was back, Netflix produced a new influx of viewership, and the show had more or less cemented itself into the CW fold, renewed late and against all hope from grave of Friday night.  Conventions and streaming media provided a life line that gave way to a new form of structure on the show: precised mirrored storytelling in the form of a (possible, likely) three act structure.  In Carver era, (unlike its predecessors) things became driven by a repetitive thematic means and the genre of the show was shifted to something with an adventurous tone.  The Winchesters were going to close the Gates of Hell! Instead of reactive, our characters were thrust into being proactive.  This shifted the structure onto choice… and consequence.  Every detail fed into this: pop culture references, color coding within the visual framework, characters created that represented specific emotional struggles for our characters to interact with and conquer (or die through).  Season 8 is easily compared to Star Wars episode IV in terms of its place in Carver Era.  While Star Wars episode IV could function as a stand alone (seeing as the show didn’t realize the introduction of its lifeline yet), it was made to function as part of a beginning of a much longer and detailed story.  

Once again in season 8 Sam and Cas began to take on the role of pushing the mytharc along, with Sam completing the Hell trials to close the Gates and Cas breaking Heaven’s control over him to close the Gates of Heaven.  The role of Castiel (while visually is reduced from seasons 4, 5 and 6), in relation to his relationship with Dean, becomes significant.  A vast number of narrative structural mirrors are put into place to frame the relationship a certain way, and they are decidedly romantic in nature. The Dean/Cas relationship then begins to be told exclusively through interspecies romantic relationships, with a significant amount needing to break some kind of hold over a supernatural being, reflecting Naomi’s reprogramming of Castiel to kill Dean (8x11-8x17). The text and subtext of this season is further queer coded to a significant degree, evident very early on by reference to such works as Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (8x03), among many others.  Carver was taking the Dean/Cas relationship very seriously and it was a showrunning decision that would drive the storyline in structure just as much as the Dean/Sam one going forward, even after his departure.  Cas, meanwhile, is given a lot of structural baggage to explain away his absence as a regular instead of a lead. Not that he wasn’t crafted this way before, but soon a structural decision would come that tied both the Dean/Cas storyline and the Dean/Sam one together in a way that would prove inseparable. The choices made in the season 8 finale (with both Cas and Sam trying to leave Dean alone) are the consequences that would fester and bleed into the new season and the rest of Carver era.  

Consequences.  Choice. “I did what I had to…”

Under higher ratings than the show had had in YEARS, season 9 began, along with my structural meta series, The Divine Reviews, where I sought to document the show’s new structure (mostly how serious it was taking the newly active Destiel “B” plot from its former place as a grief standalone storyline).  9x01-9x03 represents a tying of the storylines for Sam/Dean and Dean/Cas in a way that makes it impossible to talk about one without the other, structurally speaking. Dean can deal with Cas leaving him, but only if Sam is alive.  And when push comes to shove, Dean will sacrifice Cas’ safety and position at his side if it means the survival of Sam.  The weight of this realization falls heavily on Dean and is the structural source of grief that saturates a season full of rape metaphors as Dean tricks Sam into not dying through the angel Gadreel’s possession of Sam.  For the first time, the show makes it uncomfortable to side with Dean (unless you like the fact that Dean will force his will on Sam to keep him alive) and Dean starts down a dark path of self hatred the likes of which the show has never delved into to such a striking degree.  This self hatred structurally manifests itself as the Mark of Cain and Dean’s decision to take it on without warning of consequence represents a significant turning point in the show’s ongoing structure.  Dean begins to carry the mytharc and the metaphor within, with significant structure weight put into the fact that Dean can’t bother to feel guilt for his actions, understandable as they are.  Dean and Cas thus begin a new romantic structure, one where lovers are torn apart by family duty (this is, perhaps, most laughably shown in 9x20 in the failed Bloodlines pilot episode that gives us heterosexual interspecies couple Violet/David who even mirror Destiel dialogue into their relationship of star crossed lovers separated by things beyond their control).  

Post midseason finale in season 9, narrative mirrors begin in earnest that take the foreshadowing for Dean to die into high gear.  These are vague and non-specific, however, with the decision to turn Dean into a demon through the Mark of Cain being made late into the season.  The death of Abaddon (and the possibility that she would simply possess him) seals Dean’s structural fate, as he is killed by what it narratively represents, the block to his character development. It is here that the show hits a structural sag with season 10 and the Mark of Cain being structurally translated into a variety of narrative woes: a disease that infects Dean’s heart, a catalyst which amplifies Dean’s already weary and repressed soul, a force from which there is no destruction and no relief.  

Season 10 on the whole represents a failure to find a solid avenue to character development in Dean.  Supernatural didn’t know how to solve it’s own created problem.  And while Dean’s death was given several avenues in season 9 from which to walk down, the same meandering does not look all together acceptable as it was before.  For the first time Crowley is woven into the structural storytelling, carrying Dean away, just as Hannah does to Cas, leaving Sam alone to solve the problem “of Dean”, who is given the structural foreboding task of avoiding Cain’s fate, which saw him kill his wife and brother, Cas and Sam respectively in our structure.  The season, rather than focusing on the underlining cause of Dean taking the Mark of Cain, focuses instead on Dean trying desperately to avoid dealing with the consequences of his actions.  This culminates in Dean beating Cas nearly to death just as Cain kills his wife.  Cas avoids such a fate, however, and begins a more passive stance in the narrative, supporting Sam, instead, who must now fill the role of Abel in our structure. By Death, Dean is ordered to kill Sam to avoid further complications from the Mark of Cain, which is revealed to be an age old lock to something ambiguously called “the Darkness”. Dean is, of course, unable to kill Sam, and kills Death instead and then we are given our final structural form of the decision to take the Mark of Cain in the form of Amara, God’s sister.  Still, we are dealing with consequences of Dean’s choices, but not the underlying cause.

At this point, the Dean/Cas storyline has been given lover/wife mirrors for going on 3 seasons now.  Cas is continuously coded as Dean’s “wife” by all structural elements within SPN’s mirrored storytelling.  Their relationship has been given much structural depiction and weight, which continues on into season 11 against the false lover, Amara.  I talk extensively about the child abuse and sex abuse mirrors involving Amara and how they relate to Dean’s stolen childhood here.  It is here, after 2 seasons of the same storyline, that the Mark of Cain Dean character developmental structure has been given its final form, but sadly, would not see its end.  

We see Dean’s helplessness towards his past in the form of Amara’s control over him.  And with Amara comes our third sibling vs sibling mirror in the form of God versus Amara (the previous being Michael versus Lucifer and Cain versus Abel), Supernatural’s go to depiction for Sam and Dean’s histories and averted futures.  The season’s structure builds towards the inevitable appearance of God to stop Amara, who has justifiable reasons to be angry as Hell.  Supernatural has, at this point, painted itself into a bad corner. There’s no bigger storyline it can go to as it is faced with the monumental task of resolving not only God and Amara, but everything that their struggle represents, Dean’s stolen life at the hands of his father.  For it’s conclusion, Supernatural would now face a different structural problem, however.  

The network would not allow them to kill God.  And while I have no absolute certainty from which to draw on here, I can only guess that either Amara was going to die also, most possibly to restore balance to the universe as Chuck’s death would cause everything to be destroyed or she was going to bring him back shortly after killing him.  We never get to know the truth of the structure as Chuck is effectively only injured, not killed.  And Amara makes the choice to heal him and forgive him instead of them possibly sharing oblivion together.  Amara then gives Dean back the thing she determines he needs most: his mother.  And it is here that Dabb era officially begins, Dabb having shadowed the running of the show at the end of the season following the mid season silent departure of Carver.  

Season 12. With a character development arc for Dean already 3 seasons in the making, Dabb is given the monumental showrunning task of “where do you go after God leaving?”  A smaller scale mytharc is given in place of the sweeping epic of Carver era.  The British Men of Letters are introduced as a way of shaping Sam into being a leader among the American hunters, readdressing the question of what Sam can do to stay in the life and find his place outside of Dean. Dean, however, continues on the structural development path of confronting the thing that prevents him from feeling he only deserves to go down swinging.  Mary is fleshed out as a person though she and Castiel continue to suffer from the show’s inability to switch to an ensemble cast, which is, at this point, a point of long regarded contention among many fans.  

Mary and Cas begin to mirror each other (as we contemplate their significance to Dean) and drive the story, each wishing to make amends and give Sam and Dean a world they feel is best without either of them asking how Sam and Dean feel about their actions. This sees Mary siding with the British Men of Letters and Cas pursuing Lucifer in an attempt to cage him once more, having let him out to deal with Amara last season in another attempt to save Dean from action (Cas’ need to die for his family because he sees himself as expendable is a plot line that’s long overdue for resolution). We see Mary being made to earn her place as family through her realizing why Cas already has.  It is the most passive Sam and Dean have ever been in the structure, with everything mostly driven by Mary and Cas along with the overall theme of what it means to truly love and sacrifice to earn the label of “family”. For this, Cas is given a structural death sentence.  And Supernatural delivers, painfully.  A portal to another world is opened up courtesy of Jack, the nephilim of Lucifer and it is here that Dabb era ultimately takes us: a new world of possibilities.   The same can not, however, be said of the show’s narrative structure, which seems to be on a one way road and has been for a long, albeit slow, time.  

Dean has forgiven Mary for setting him on the path to have a robbed childhood, effectively wrapping up the long drawn out Mark of Cain storyline.  Forgiveness. Love. Family. New beginnings. These are the themes that run through Dabb era. Dean is finally given everything and then within the space of one episode it has been taken away.  The nephilim introduces the show to once again ask the age old question: “nature or nuture?”, as Sam and Dean are forced to deal with an unprecedented force thrust upon them in their moments of grief.  Like Carver before him, Dabb era looks to be using a three act structure, with Carver’s final act serving also as Dabb’s beginning.  This would place season 13 quickly through the realms of Star Wars V-VI.  Things are bleak, hope has quickly been lost, the lover has been taken and the family has been torn apart.  A dark empire looms.  And it is here that Dabb era continues.

Season 13 functions structurally as a reworking of season 12, with much the same values as Dabb’s first season, but with Sam and Dean’s desires driving the structure instead of Cas and Mary’s. A course of hope is set, one where the Winchesters can finally find a way to try and live a life that actually includes LIVING while hunting, all the while trying to hang it up for good, but realizing this may simply be an unattainable dream.

Dabb era has firmly made its bed as “Family Don’t End in Blood” and has laid in it. Mirrors for Dean and Cas continue to be a familial/romantic blend, reflective of how Dean and Cas’ confusion and fear over addressing the unquantifiable love between one another continues to bleed into the entire narrative, the show continuing to use missions as a buffer to having the characters finally have a “feelings” talk to one another. It is a conversation they both continue to fear: when Dean stops lumping Sam into his feelings, and Cas stops deflecting to a more pressing mission as a means to avoid the fear of heartache that comes with Dean simply calling him “family” or “brother” one more time. NEED over WANT.

Sam’s development into leader, however, is put onto the back burner in favor of the season’s elaborate structural examination of trauma. Sam can no longer do anything as long as Lucifer continues to linger. Like with season 12, season 13 gives the Winchesters back everything, then threatens to take it all away again. Mary’s desire to help the AU world over returning home hits the Winchesters very hard. The mission to protect people is given full focus to Sam. If Sam wants a relationship with his mom, then helping reshape the life of the hunters living in the hunting world is how he does that. This is essential. And while season 14 will drive this idea, the Mary/Sam angle is something temporarily set aside.

Trauma (from hunting, from Mary, from John, from Heaven and angels), building a family through bonds, and hope for the future all culminate as the thematic lifeblood that runs through Dabb era. I discuss season 13 further at length here.  Like the two seasons before it, the theme of trauma and how to move forward from it continues into season 14 with Michael structurally translating as the trauma of bad parenting/leading upon Dean Winchester specifically. Season 13 and season 14, in many ways, will (seemingly) function as two sides to the same coin, a narrative structured to examine how the trauma of the past informs (and stagnates) the fear and hope of the future. I’ve called season 14 an accordion arc, and it is, but it’s also one that is far more natural than season 10 due to more careful planning. Seasons 13 and 14 within Dabb era function and do the same as seasons 9 and 10 within Carver era: carrying the driving conflict/mytharc (the MOC for Carver era, Michael for Dabb era) across two seasons, but to Dabb’s credit over Carver, Dabb seems to have planned for it a lot better ahead of time.

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This post was originally crafted here.  It was requested under a READ MORE so I reworked it into a single new post as presented above.  It will be updated when season 14 is complete.

[attract-mode-collective]

Exactly 79 Photos & Videos Concerning The Game Boy (plus other handhelds)

So... hope you’ve all been following me on Twitter, which is more or less the unofficial new home for Attract Mode. Mostly cuz Tumblr’s days are, alas, numbers, plus I haven’t warmed up to Medium as much as I had hoped to. Though I’ve actually spent the past two months republishing every single post that contains mainline Game Culture Snapshots, so it has remained somewhat useful at least.

Now, for a while there, I had been compiling every single thing tweeted. But because I’m now so damn active on that end… plus I’m busier than ever with other projects… I’m way behind with those digest posts, and the very idea of playing catch up legit gives me anxiety. Yet I have been sharing lots of cool things, which all deserve to be in the blog proper… and because a lot of them are specific to the Game Boy, I figure, why not just focus on that?

Like the above, which is a technique for producing full color photographs via the Game Boy Camera, and yet another thing that I can’t believe hasn’t made the rounds!

Sticking with Game Boy photography, here have a pair of mods that will greatly enhance picture quality. The first involves mounting SLR lens onto a Game Boy Camera (via ekeler.com)...

And the second has one shoving a Game Boy Camera into a SLR itself (via @MaxKriegerVG)...

As someone who was into video games as a kid, and also interested in photography, the Game Boy Camera was the first camera I was able to call my own. Am pretty sure this was the case for others as well?

I also remember seeing this ad in Nickelodeon Magazine (which I would eventually writer for, not too long later) and being absolutely gob smacked (via nintendroid.org)…

Though as much I loved Nintendo brand of FUNtography, I would quickly discover… as did everyone else I also assume… that taking pictures is serious business (via @PolandNintendo)…

Not only did I have a Game Boy Color, but I also had the Game Boy Printer (I still own both, for the record). Unfortunately my snapshots from Link’s Awakening have long since faded, but as with many things, you can find copies online (via gameandgraphics.com)…

Speaking of the world of print, coming soon is a handy guide to Nintendo handy game machine (via miki800.com)…

That one magazine ad featuring Princess Peach catch your eye as well? Well here’s a much better look at it (via suppermariobroth)…

I love handheld gadgets of all kinds, yet some of the popular ones confuse me. Like Hudson’s Shooting Watch; it makes no sense to have a gadget that can detect button presses without a game attached. Guess I’m not alone (via instagram.com/kazzycom)…

A realization I made while sifting through Game Boy related content is how popular the color yellow is with many. Cuz Pokemon? Anyhow, the final post from a blog that specializes in gorgeous photographs of gorgeous hardware, which I just brought up again very recently (via hard-aware)…

How your parents used to trade Pokemans online (via melonjaywalk)…

And no, Game Boys weren't the only things that one could connect to keitais ya know. And yes, Game Boys aren’t the only portables I’ll be showcasing (via anthony10000000)…

I own quite a few VMUs and am always looking to expand my collection… but nothing yellow, sorry. Instead, I want the one covered with dolphins (via anthony10000000)…

So my new favorites artist is Eri Kitamura, and not just cuz she makes pretty looking Game Boys…

She also makes pretty looking girls playing Game Boys (well, this one is technically listening to music)…

Was originally going to post the first thing from Eri that caught my eye, which is a Game Boy with a girl on it, but instead here’s a Game Boy with a girl on it playing a Game Boy…

Time for two more videos from the same individual responsible with the process for producing color photographs at the very top. And it’s what everyone has been waiting… specifically the backlit Game Boy Color mod everyone has been waiting for.

The process is detailed in this two-part video, and here’s the first one (it’s about 50 minutes long cuz spoilers: this shit ain’t easy)…

And here’s part two, which is ONLY 40-ish minutes long…

The author of the videos actually has a store, so if the process seems a bit too daunting, you can purchase a pre-modded unit for $250. Actually, this one is $260, cuz of the dual shells. Quite the price tag, yet somehow totally worth it (via instagram.com/esotericmods)…

Now might be a good time to mention how… remember that GBA with the GameCube finish from eBay a few months back? Well, I decided to get the one that resembles a Super Famicom, something I’ve been lusting over for years.

Well, here’s what the aforementioned seller had in his listing…

And this is what I got instead…

Yeah, that green shoulder button is not the right shade. After some complaining, I got the seller to admit that the one in the picture was hand painted; he didn’t know where it get ones that it’s exact color as on a Super Fami controller.

He also had a no refund policy, yet I bitched & moaned enough to warrant an exchange, for another Cube-esque model, one sans the stick. Cuz it’s comparatively boring to look at, here’s a version with the stick…

Again, mine just has the standard d-pad. As for my replacement… the colors of the A & B buttons are not an exact match, once again. But it’s close enough (am mostly just sick of dealing with that guy, aka johnnys_merchandise, whom you should all avoid btw), plus I have started to scour AliExpress for replacements.

BTW, my failure to obtain a modded handheld that channels another form of hardware has me wondering if I should go for something completely different instead (via instagram.com/wakuwakuisland)…

Up in the mountains, flower bloom amongst Game Boys & Game Boy Colors, whereas deep in the forest, you’ll find mushrooms and Game Boy Advances (via pxchinko)…

Some say memories are fuzzy, though for others, they're leafy (via lyosphe)…

I’ve looked all over for tinycartridge's original post, but no luck, so you can all instead have my personal copy of the earthy wallpaper that was shared years ago (and which I still to this very day)...

The Game Boy Micro, DS, and DS Lite are like family, and like siblings, there can the occasional squabble (via benkyo-es)…

@frankcifaldi: When I met this guy in 2003 and he told me he was going to make an extensive fan site about the Supervision, a Taiwanese Game Boy knockoff, I was like "sure dude." 15 years later he actually launched the thing??

Meanwhile, the Game & Watch Perfect Catalogue just came out, with the full low down on all 59 models. BTW, had no idea there were 59 in total until @ionadisco mentioned it…

How Game & Watches were sold in America; I fondly recalls this ad in-between the pages of Amazing/Spectacular/Web of Spider-Man (via suppermariobroth)…

And how Game Boys were sold in Japan, one day one apparently, which would explain this salesperson’s rather perplexed demeanor (via flashbak.com)…

Silly as it sounds, and as silly as he looks, the US version of Firebrand is nonetheless a warm & welcoming face from my childhood (via nintendometro)...

Mario dropping a knowledge bomb (via suppermariobroth)…

Here’s Peach seemingly kicking Toad’s ass in Super Mario Bros Deluxe, which I’ve been meaning to tweet for a while now, but now seems like the right time & place for obvious reasons (via nintendometro)…

A cute comic about someone finally beating a game after ten years, or at least I believe that's the case (you know, language barrier and all; via @desune593)

Sailor Moon seems to enjoy handheld gaming more so than in the arcades (via uglygreenjacket)…

It saddens me that ravages of time is robbing me of my precious memories, including the names of 90s anime, hence why I had to ask on Twitter who exactly is this (answer was Tenchi Muyo; via shxtfased)...

It’s SethEverman, just playing some pokemon blue…

Speaking of music, it again saddens me that I wasn’t about to make the trip to Japan to catch chiptunes at Square Sounds, and various associated venues. At least @bit_shifter_ took this great snapshot of Glomag at Cyberpunks Osaka…

Meanwhile, here in NYC, we actually still have record stores. And you can grab Josh’s latest release, his first in 12 years(!) at Rough Trade (via bit-shifter)…

Though back to Japan; attended Square Sounds would have also afforded me the chance to check out Tokyo Game Show, where I could have gotten that VMU shaped USB drive that was being sold at the Sega booth (via miki800)…

A few weeks before TGS, there was an earthquake in Japan, in northern island Hokkaido. Many were left without power, but one person was able to keep up with the news, thanks to an old DS peripheral that basically provides bunny ears (via kotaku.com)…

On a semi-related note, here’s someone watching old ECW VHS tapes on their Game Gear (via heavyelectricity)…

Sorry, but the only other thing I have that’s related to Sega’s Master System on the go is this gif from a pizza ranch salad dressing (yikes) commercial, which was cross-promoting Sonic Chaos (via sonicthehedgeblog)...

I have no idea why I'm so amused by this Getty Image of a Neo Geo Pocket that was confiscated at summer camp. Or perhaps no explanation is needed? (via hellomrkearns)…

Speaking of the Great Outdoors, here’s my buddy Steve enjoying some Mario Kart 8 in the middle of a forest (via instagram.com/vitaminsteve)…

And speaking of Mario Kart on the Switch, Bowser seems like a pretty cool dood to have a car trip (via suppermariobroth)…

The Switch is so beloved that people are doing fan art, not for any particular game but the simple the act of playing with it (via annazees)…

Granted, one of the best things about the Switch is all the different ways in which one can play (via kanekoshake)…

If you enjoy your Switch on the go and are looking for a way to store games… and are a diehard Breath of the Wild fan as well… plus if you have access to a 3D printer (via miki800.com)…

It’s a tribute to Star Wars… games… all of them… featuring Princess Leia focused on her DMG (via deviantart.com/robduenas)...

BTW, do you still have your Game Boy? If not, here ya go (via anthony10000000)…

When the realization hits that your Game Boy Color library is incomplete (via @Bootleg_Stuff)…

Back to my buddy Steve, who visited the Primark at the Staten Island mall and took pics of the game related apparel that, sadly, were no longer in stock by the time I was able to swing by. With the one thing I really wanted being this shirt…

This pair of Super Mario Land X Air Jordans is only $1,350.00 (via miki800.com)…

I’m sure you’ve seen him already, but for the sake of completion, here’s that grandpa from who rigged this bike with 11 phones to become a Pokemon Go master (via bbc.com)…

Yet another sign of our times, literally (via fuckdragonballz)…

This image features a PSP and a MacBook, both of which are from the mid-2000s, yet feels very late 1990s/early 2000s. Why? Those USB cables (via jcgraphix)…

And last but not least, here’s Paris Hilton with her DS in 2005 (via @ParisHilton)…

[aion-rsa]

Young Justice Deepens its Legion of Super-Heroes Connections

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This Young Justice: Phantoms review contains spoilers.

Young Justice Season 4 Episode 3

Let’s just get this out of the way now. The scene during the credits, where Superman is talking to Lois on the phone about baby Jon’s Kryptonian poop habits and his powers possibly starting to emerge, is the funniest thing Young Justice has ever done, from the subject matter to the voice acting – Superman screaming “CYBORG I NEED A BOOM TUBE” was a riot.

It was a weird tone to attach to an episode that was mostly about how shitty racism is. But tonal dissonance aside, both pieces worked fairly well. 

The pace of the story slowed way down this week. We got almost no progression towards solving the mysteries of who killed the Prime Minister, who blew up the Zeta Tube, caused the cave in, or blew up the communications satellite. Instead, we got deep character work on Beast Boy, and on Miss Martian and her family. The two big plot beats were Bioship retiring and passing on her role on the team to her daughter (we’ll call her Bioship 2. Or maybe Bioship Infinite?), and a lingering camera shot on M’gann’s father as the prince was running off into a sandstorm to save Gar. 

This episode turned Beast Boy’s paranoia all the way up in order to give it some resolution by the end. It doesn’t really work. His guilt is mostly based on what he perceives as a failure as leader of the Outsiders – he thinks he lost Brion, and he’s terrified of losing Superboy and other friends as leader of the new team. This might be because the show has conditioned us to understand that more time passed between seasons 3 and 4 than actually did, but that gap makes it hard to feel like these wounds would be so raw. I know “M’gann” (actually Saturn Girl meddling with the past against Legion of Super-Heroes rules) tells him it was because his brain was still bruised from the psychic blasts Gar caught when Martians in the town square tried to defend themselves against his Ma’alefa’ak form, but I just don’t feel like they sold that development all that effectively.

Meanwhile, Conner gets a quick blast of Martian Manhunter history while building the platform for the wedding, a process that involves telekinetically pouring lava over rocks Conner and Gar piece together. We find out that J’onn was actually preeeeeeeeeetty racist against red and white Martians until he left for Earth, a fact that appropriately astonished Conner and gives us one of the best exchanges this show’s ever done: “It’s good that J’onn learned racial tolerance. On Earth of all places!” Conner says.

“He did not simply learn tolerance. That is insufficient. He learned acceptance,” M’gann’s father tells him. I know they’re standing in lava during that scene, but those burns were the ones that stuck.

On the other side of the episode, we get M’gann spending quality time with her sister and mother, as they try and build the crystal canopy to go on top of the lava platform. This conversation has a lot of interesting ideas about identity – we find out that M’gann’s superhero form is her “true” form, not her Martian one, and M’gann and Em’ree fight over Em’ree not standing up for her younger white Martian siblings when they were little. It’s solid enough stuff.

The problem so far is these first three episodes feel kind of morose. Conner and M’gann’s wedding is supposed to be a celebration, but it doesn’t feel like one, no matter how many celebratory kisses they share on screen. Gar’s being a shit, Mars is racist as hell, they’re cut off from Earth with no communication (and no alternate setting for a B-plot to lighten the mood). Everything just feels kind of bad. Hopefully the Javelin’s arrival will help change the direction of the season.

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PHANTOM PREMONITIONS

Despite what you heard, the Kobra the team battled at the beginning of the episode is not the Cobra that G.I. Joe fights on the regular. This Kobra is a cult/snake-themed terrorist organization trying to usher in the Kali Yuga, an age of chaos. Their founder, King Kobra, was created by Jack Kirby, and the terror organization associated with him has been growing in size and specialization since the ‘70s. The terror organization associated with King Kobra. Not with Jack Kirby.

The Outsiders you see in Gar’s memory consist of Robin, Wonder Girl, Beast Boy, Stargirl, and Windfall. Windfall in the comics is a reformed member of the Masters of Disaster who joined the Outsiders to make up for her villainous past. And then her story ends right there and absolutely does not progress into a super shitty story in late aughts Suicide Squad. Definitely do not read that. 

I’m still laughing at “he got poop on the CEILING?” You don’t actually need to be a Kryptonian baby for that to happen.

The post Young Justice Deepens its Legion of Super-Heroes Connections appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[sordidpassionsandlockedemotions]

In an world where it’s killed or be killed after the war of the species,even an child can be an perceived threat. So an attractive face is always an red flag as even the most innocent may bleed you dry. Or take advantage,steal everything and leave you to the wolves. But what if that pretty face unintentionally lowers your judgement?  Part Three

Alec was sitting keeping the uneeded watch when his eyes grew heavy head leaning against the wall. Vaguely aware of an blanket being wrapped around him before drifting off. It around just before sunrise when he woke up sitting up alert watching the sky that’s when he felt somebody sit down. “Morning.” 

Of course it was Magnus setting the blanket beside him Alec nodded,”Should wake Izzy and Jace when it’s lighter outside so we can go.” He saw some offered coffee,almost an peace offering at least that’s what he told himself about it. “Thanks I uh was thinking wouldn’t have any cause of the time frame.” 

Taking an sip there was something about the silence peaceful,normally he hated it. When the sun started rising found himself watching the rays hitting the warlock’s face and maybe it was just the dawning fact could be dead within hours,or that feeling he tried ignoring. The flirting,or just how godly the other looked with how sleepy Alec still was but he before was aware himself kissed Magnus. 

Feeling Magnus kiss back softly and hands on his sides,eyes closed but didn’t need to have them open to notice the warlock smile. Remembering himself,that they needed to leave soon Alec broke it off opening his eyes. “Sorry um yeah I should my siblings-.” Standing up quickly setting his coffee down trying to ignore how much he wanted to kiss Magnus again,how the other’d chased after his lips instinctively. 

Well there was that out there in the open... But yet if there was no good ending to their adventure,or he wound up in Idris then could at least say less an what if to wonder about. Also thinking about it really who could give any care over it? Considering all that had happened much bigger issues than him kissing an warlock,or that it was the high warlock,or an guy. Hardly going to make the world end-already had. 

They all got ready to go and Alec couldn’t help glance over at Magnus who was undoing the wards,the spells he had cast. Smiling an slight bit before he saw Izzy looking at him. Alec double checked his arrows glancing at them to avoid what he figured was her inquisitive stare. “Hey Alec ready to go?”

“Yeah Jace only have an handful of arrows though.”  “Okay noted.”  “Izzy?” “I’m set.” “Alright then let’s go.”

It was slow progress through demons,and assorted things to be had soon the Institute was in sight. Looking in rather bad state there was claw marks and damage to it Alec almost winced to see the blood everywhere,couldn’t have been many left behind but still he could picture it as if had been there. Everybody with their weapons fighting the flood through the doors,people collapsing and severely less than could hold the place securely. 

Somebody probably being the last to go,maybe on the roof making sure things like their weapons were inaccessible. Didn’t even think twice before drawing back and firing an arrow into the first demon he saw. Siblings and Magnus looking at him curiously meanwhile Alec just headed towards the doors. The doors broken,hanging,and beat up blood on them in an x. 

They entered slowly it was abandoned,the bodies gone probably dragged elsewhere for who knows what reasons. Didn’t even flinch at the spider demon in the main area just fired an arrow watching it turn to ash. Soon he was out of arrows,and they had cleared the main floor levels. Izzy was quickly making sure the elevators didn’t work,Jace blocking off the areas they needed and Magnus well he offered to try sending an fire message.

So Alec who was picking up shards of glass,bits of fabric stopped himself. Getting an piece of paper pulling out his stele sitting down on the training room steps not thinking much when Magnus sat beside him. 

“You alright Alexander?” It took him by surprise mean naturally who would be after seeing what they’d called home in ruins,abandoned. But he just stared at the paper trying to word the message he wanted to send just right. 

“Fine,uh thanks for all the help probably can’t exactly pay you for it.” Sure had money but access to the high prices warlocks tended to ask for not so much. Eyes looking up an bit to look at Magnus,couldn’t help wonder why he was sticking around Alec refused to be demanding or ask about anymore help. Depending on the response to his message,the wards and portals might need fixed but who knew.

He felt an hand resting on his knee and paused what he was doing. “That’s alright I was only offering my help as I wanted to,think an thing like money can slide in this sort of circumstance.” Tempting to kiss Magnus again,just one more time but before he could could hear Jace return. 

“Alec how’s the message going?” Looking at it Alec knew exactly what to say suddenly quickly finishing it. Setting his stele down knowing unlike Izzy his parabati wasn’t reading into the situation. It was actually rather amusing how blind sided he could be,and used to be annoying. 

“Finished.” Offering it to Magnus who set it on fire watching it leave but would it get to Idris,would anybody answer? They all wound up just cleaning up the place some keeping an eye out for anything,or anyone who may appear. Alec couldn’t help be grateful every time Magnus was near him,or feel his pulse spike when they brushed hands accidentally. 

Epilogue:

They kissed again,Alec pressed against the wall however he felt lips leave his right as an paper floated to the ground. An response,and the information of the start of life from this point on more or less. 

It was surprising what the plan was,but more Alec was amused Magnus cared stick around the week went by everybody working themselves hard. Clearing the place,cleaning,wards,and amongst it there was stolen kisses between the two of them. Always when got sleep it was instant mostly followed by being woken up for more work. It was Friday morning when they were dragged to the doors newly fixed by Magnus and where he fixed the portals before fainting into Alec’s arms. 

There was reinforcements lots,his parents and Max of course Magnus went to take his leave. But to his surprise there was an few thank you’s offered him which maybe the other could use. Realizing maybe now was the end of whatever they had going on for them. And it could have been easy but the biggest mission was to fix everything,undo all the damage. 

So he couldn’t say it was entirely thought out when he kissed Magnus in front of everybody he knew,those he didn’t. Or the sound of his little brother’s confusion,really all of it sort of faded away. Just knew there was one thing he wanted,that was just as important as anything else. Could hear his siblings amused expressions,parents probably just trying to process it. 

And it was an very long couple of months,but somehow he managed to have an boyfriend. Give an year or two everything would be better,and maybe changes so it never happened again nothing like it at least. Somewhere in those weeks it became normal for Magnus to drop by,assist some then convince Alec to get some rest. So Alec would reluctantly outwardly,happily internally pull Magnus onto his bed and fall asleep when he couldn’t tiredly kiss his boyfriend anymore.