#huh they could make a set of power rangers

[kokomyass]

Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters pt.3

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Itto, Tighnari, Lyney

synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!

Notes: for itto you are part of the L/N (last name) clan, for tighnari you are a forest ranger and for lyney you are his wonderful assistant!!

a/n: thank you anon for the request I enjoy writing these and it makes me giggle with I write them because I feel like I can imagine them happening....anyways enjoy lovlies!!

Itto

The Traveller and Paimon had found themselves in Inazuma again, this time just for some fun.

To their suprise one of the first people they encountered was the infamous Arataki Gang having what seemed to be a meeting in the middle of nowhere making an absolute ruckus with Shinobu stood with her arms crossed wishing she was somewhere else.

"Alright, gang! Today's meeting is super important! We gotta decide what to buy for our new, amazing, drop dead gorgeous, special member....AKA my girlfriend!" Arataki Itto's voice echoed.

"Well, if it isn't Bull Chucker! Fancy seeing you hear...making a LOT of noise as usual...." Itto turned his head and noticed the Traveller and Paimon making their way to where he was stood, a beam making its way on his face.

"Well, if it's isn't my amigos, the Traveller and little Lavender Melon Paimon!!" he boomed out.

"Hello, Traveller and Paimon it is nice to see you once again." Kuki said calmly in contrast to Itto's voice.

"Hey guys! Nice to see you too! What are you all up too? You seem awfully excited Itto....well more excited than usual..." Paimon asked with confusion.

"Well I am glad you asked, we have a newest member who also happens to be-"

Before Itto could finish his sentence, you approached, holding a pot that steamed with a delicious aroma.

You had a confident yet gentle smile on your face as Itto looked at you mesmerised. The Traveller definitely didn't miss this romantic gaze.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone," you said, setting the pot down. "I brought food for everyone too eat!"

"Y/N! You're just in time! Everyone, meet Y/N from the L/N clan AND my girlfriend. She has joined the Arataki gang to be in charge of making meals, since she loves to cook for people!"

"Hello all, nice to meet you. I have heard so much about you! All good things don't worry!" You chuckle as Paimon and The traveller looked back and forth between you and Itto looking stunned.

"The L/N clan?!?! How on earth did you pull a member of the rich, powerful and famous L/N clan? I suppose your good at some things...."

"HUH?! Shut it Lavender Melon!! The way we met isn't important-"

"Oh, it's rather romantic, don't you think Itto!" you wrapped your arm around Itto's after interrupting him and resting your head on his arm, as he sweatdropped.

"He broke into my residence to get some flowers, but I caught him and then we got chatting and obviously I fell in love with him!"

"WHAT?!?!?" Paimon and The traveller shouted as you and Kuki laughed and Itto couldn't look up.

"What can I say....I am a charisma king, I must say!"

Tighnari

Despite being in a relationship with the smartest person you know, his knowledge clearly didn't rub off on you because you felt like you were getting dumber by the day.

It all started when Tighnari had asked you and Collei to go identify some mushrooms to distinguish if the were edible or not to update the Avidya Forest Survival Guide.

After seeing a mushrooms that 'had to be edible' in your terms you decided to take a bite. Whilst the flavour was lovely to start off the with dizziness that came after was a clear indicator that it was probably poisonous

"Collei! Who is this and what's going on?!" you see through your lidded eyes a high pitched flying fairy and someone who looks like they are from out of Teyvat.

"Traveller, Paimon! Perfect timing! There is no time to explain but please help me take her to Master Tighnari!!"

Next thing you know you pass out completely and wake up with Tighnari sat on your bed checking your temperature and checking for any rashes.

"Tigh...nari??" you mumble reaching for him as he holds your hand.

"Ah Y/N, you are awake. Now what did I tell you and what have I always told you about the mushrooms you eat? What made you think eating this mushroom would benefit you! You have to listen to me or worse things could happen and you-" He stopped rambling and let out a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, Nari...I promise I won't do it again..." you were now sat up looking guilty as he engulfed you in a hug that you reciprocated.

"Don't worry, just....be careful. I don't want to lose you."

"AHEM!!! Sorry to interrupt but the are still 2 very confused people stood here!!" Paimon burst out.

"My apologies, this Y/N a forest ranger and my girlfriend, she also takes care of Collei from time to time. Y/N, this is the Traveller and Paimon that I have told you about." Tighnari casually said patting your head as he got up to go to his table.

"Hey guys! It is a pleasure to meet you! I apologise for the circumstances...I can be rather clumsy at times..." you chuckle slightly as you sweatdropped.

"Nice to meet you too! I hope we become close friends! We didn't know you had a girlfriend Tighnari....it must be refreshing since you are opposites"

"Quite! It Master Tighnari says no about something I can go to Master Y/N and she will say yes!!" Collei happily exposes you and herself as you sweatdrop and Tighnari's head snaps back.

"COLLEI!!" both you and Tighnari shout as the Traveller and Paimon sit there chuckling.

Lyney

It was very dark at night and the Traveller and Paimon had just finished doing a commission for Katheryne and decided that the weather was nice enough to go on a scenic walk.

What they didn't expect to see on a cliff was a figure who looked like Lyney and another figure opposite him sat on a picnic blanket.

After some consideration they both mutually decided to approach you both.

What they didn't know is that you and Lyney were on a date, something you barely went on due to being busy. Lyney was the most romantic person you know and he always knew how to show you magic that you had never seen before that sent your heart aflame.

"My dearest rainbow rose, it pains me we cannot spend time together as romantically as we used to...when we are at work we are forced to keep is hidden..."

He holds your hands tightly and when he removes them a rainbow rose was in one hand and a box of expensive chocolates was in your other's you embrace each other.

"Uhhh, I hope we aren't interrupting anything...." Paimon suddenly speaks up scaring you both as you jolt away from each other pretending nothing happened.

"O-oh Traveller and Paimon!! What are you doing here?? I mean nice to see you again...." Lyney chuckles nervously as he hadn't intended for anyone to see him and you. You relationship was secret after all.

"Nice to see you too....but we should be asking what you are doing here embracing a woman!! And why do you look suspicious?!" Paimon laid all the questions on him, he let out a sigh giving up.

"Well, this woman here is Y/N, my personal assistant and also....my girlfriend. We have been keeping our relationship secret because it's a personal thing we don't want others to see."

"Hello Traveller and Paimon! It's lovely to meet you! Lyney has nothing but praises for you both!" you speak up smiling warmly.

"Hi there Y/N, nice to meet you too!! We are shocked you have a girlfriend Lyney considering how secretive you are...."

Lyney let out a heartly laugh intertwining his hand with yours.

"Well, I too would've said that 1 year ago but Y/N managed to steal a magicians heart, the hardest trick of all." Lyney looks at you lovingly as you look back at him lovingly too.

"Well, you guys are so wholesome and sweet, we are in support of your secret-"

"CLICK!!"

Everyones head snapped around to see Charlotte the Journalist taking pictures.

"CHARLOTTE NO!!" everyone shouted as The Traveller and Paimon sais their farewells and quickly caught her making sure she deleted those photos for good.

~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~

a/n: thank you once again for the amazing request and if anyone wants anymore of these or anything help lemme know and I'll try my best!! love you all 💜🌙💜🌙💜🌙

[yorutsuki]

You're cooked. Now write boothill.

「 ✦ Metal Tension ✦ 」

↳ Boothill, an optimistic and unrestrained cowboy—a galaxy ranger just so happens to be looking for a specific emanator though runs into you. Unfortunately, tension forms quickly.

[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]

Tags:

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Light clangs and clunks echoed softly around the grounds of Penacony. His hair swaying lightly behind him along with his cape—while his metal body reflected the bright lights of the city.

"The Dreamscape..." Boothill breathed, taking in the sights of the bubbly, lit scenery.

The cowboy was drawn into Penacony in search for a specific emanator roaming about. He heard, from a memokeeper, that she would be found traveling besides an Astral Express crew. Hence, that would be his first step; to track them down.

It wasn't hard to track the group down, considering their popularity throughout the scape. With a few conversations with the residences and locals, he easy found one of the passengers—you.

Currently you were seated in a bar, a glass of paper moon near you while you skimmed through your phone.

Your head perked up as you heard a low rasped chuckle near you.

"You must be the famous {Y/n}?" He spoke, a light sly smile plastering his lips. "May I sit?" He asked, signaling to the seat next to you.

Your expression showed confusion but nonetheless you nodded both to the question and request, signaling a 'go ahead'. "Yep, that's me. Do you need something?" You sighed, popping the 'p' before taking a sip of your drink.

The ranger hummed, "a paper moon? That's a hell of a drink, isn't it?" He raised his brow, ignoring your question.

You nodded, setting down your glass. "A chaotic and busy week." You huffed, recalling the events you endured recently—still feeling some bruising from some of them.

The galaxy cowboy ranger nodded in acknowledgement, setting his arms, crossed on the table. You glanced over to him skeptically. "Well then, I told you my name, I think it's only right you introduce yourself." You spoke, taking another sip.

"Eager huh? Names' Boothill." He smirked, placing his head to one of his palms.

"Well then, Boothill, what are you exactly here for?" You asked once again, sighing—not wanting to beat around the bush. You knew the man wasn't here just for a idle chat.

You heard the cyborg chuckle at your straightforwardness, "Observant. Well, i'm here looking for a emanator who goes by the name, Acheron."

You furrowed your brows, "why?" You questioned.

if you weren't beating around the bush, then it should be an even playing field, no?

Boothill's sly smirk turned into a light smile of menace. "To eliminate her."

You hummed in thought before gulping down the rest of your drink, grabbing your phone and leaving the bar.

Boothill frowned for a moment though his signature smirk appeared once more before he himself stood up, trailing after you.

"I don't think you know what your dealing with." He spoke, shaking his head. You however, were pretty sure you knew the risks of Acheron tagging along. "I-the crew has seen her potential power already, as well as her persona in general. Maybe not at the fullest but it's safe to say we know enough to trust her currently." You answered, recalling the information that the crew and her had exchanged during the time together.

"-though that can't be said for you." You halted with you movement, glancing towards him with furrowed brows. Boothill raised a brow, his eyes glancing over to you as well, his expression plastering the same amused expression.

"Look here darlin', i'm here for one objective. I'm not here to make enemies with the express—that would be meaningless and a waste of both sides' time." He hummed. "So if you could just give me even a slight clue of where the emanator is, i'll be on my way." He shrugged, resting a hand on his hip.

You shook your head lightly, "I can't, I don't know where she is. She pops in and out—here and there at times." You informed, crossing your arms, replicating his sass. "Besides, I believe your the one who hasn't a clue what they're dealing with." You glared at him.

Boothill returned the glare, though before any words could be uttered, a sudden wave of fire split the tension as both of you were quick to dodge it.

Looking to your side, you were faced with a Dreamjolt gorilla and overcooked, along with some other low enemies.

You grit your teeth while the ranger's smirk only grew wider at the new challenge. Though before he could even process, you were already taking action—taking swift and agile turns, aiming and destroying the mechanics' weak spots to which they crumbled into ash upon.

Within under a minute, the enemies were nothing but ash in the wind.

You had returned back to your spot like nothing happened, only a few breathes here and there. You looked towards the man, a brow raised as you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. "You need something?"

The galaxy ranger looked away, almost in thought. "Those moves...they're familiar.." He stated, looking to the ground before glancing back at you. "Where did you learn them?"

Your eyes turned soft only for a second as you grinned slightly. "The emanator. She was kind enough to lend me some tips." You smirked but quickly replaced it was a neutral face.

Boothill's gaze went surprised only for a split second before turning into a sly cocky look. "Well, would ya look at that. Y'know Acheron doesn't just teach anyone her knowledge." He smirked before leaning near your ear. "You must be a pretty special thing then." He laughed before retreating back.

Your words got caught in your throat. You knew it was a teasing comment but thats what stunt you.

You mumbled something inaudible before your phone pinged. "Oh? Is that the rest of your crew?" He chuckled, peeking over towards your screen. You glanced towards him and back, nodding.

A few moments passed before your phone vanished into your inventory, specks of dust in place of it's disappearance. With a huff, you look towards the metal man, "well, i'm guessing we'll be seeing each other around, unfortunately." You shook your head much to your dismay.

Boothill smirked, "Of coarse. I look forward to our next run in—and how knows?" He shrugged, leaning forward, "maybe you can teach me some of those tricks, eh?"

You give a grimaced smile, "keep dreaming. This is the dreamscape after all." With that you waved a flimsy 'cya' before leaving.

Though if you stayed just a bit longer, you would've seen the cowboy ranger's cheeks tinted with a pink hue as he let out a airy laugh. "till we cross paths again."

.

.

.

A/N: I barely know about Boothill than whats already present. Hence, I apologize if its short and out of character TxT.

(I have no clue for a title)

[Random] While writing this, I read the most well executed, tear making, well written, heart warming, angsty af fanfic of a Michealangelo x reader (TMNT), I highly reccomend checking it out if you like TMNT-specifically mikey and angst :)

"Hearts Over Head (Michealangelo x Reader Fanfiction)" - Sophfandoms53

[seresinhangmanjake]

And, Honey, I’ll Make It All Okay

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake might be getting used to his mother being around you and his baby girl, but he still had zero interest in allowing his father within a hundred miles of his family. Sometimes, though, things happen that aren’t in his control, despite how desperately he needs them to be. 

Warnings: Alcohol, hints of alcoholism and past abuse (not physical), cursing. Protective Seresins working together like the damn power rangers. 

Notes: Suggested by an anon / Part of the Oh, Baby Universe. A follow up to It’s What You Make It

Words: 4060

------

“So, this little one is a Seresin, huh?”

Jake looked up from the book in his lap—the one he’d bought when he realized he was two whole months behind you in parenting knowledge and felt a desperation to catch up quickly before he ruined his daughter's childhood. He set it aside, meeting his mother's raised brow. 

“I was told you legally changed her name,” she continued as she bounced Eve on her lap, gentle jolts up and down making the girl giggle.

The memory of his birthday present that held within it so many promises of the future you’d share was still strong. He thought of it every morning, loving how it entered his mind like clockwork the second he looked down at your sleeping face beside him. You were in it with him for the long haul—you and Eve—and you’d made it so wonderfully known in a way that could not be outdone. 

Jake smiled, not just at the reminder of your gift, but for many reasons. For the happiness on his daughter’s face as she sat with her grandmother, for the ease with which you and his mother got along, for the way she proved to so seamlessly blend into his family over the last four days. He smiled because he had every right to. Just as he had every right not to tell her about his daughter’s change of name. 

Despite obviously gaining your trust, she had yet to fully gain his. He wanted to let that door stay open, but she’d be back in Texas within a day, and there was no guarantee she could keep his secrets upon her return home. And if his father knew the choice made over Eve’s name, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself away. 

That was the last thing Jake needed. The last thing you needed. 

“Yea,” he said, swallowing, sitting up a bit straighter in the leather armchair. “We did.”

“Anyone else’s name you plan to change soon?”

Jake hesitated. He hadn’t planned to tell his parents. Not about any of it. Not where or how or when he chose to propose. Not about the ring he had made months ago. Not about his wedding, his marriage. Not anything about the details of his life after the bridge they’d set aflame. And he still wasn’t sure his mother had earned the knowledge, but Jake couldn’t deny how obvious he made his intentions without so much as uttering a single word about it. He wanted you, forever, and not a soul with two eyes would think otherwise. 

“Um—I’m working on it.”

“Do you have a ring?”

“I do.”

“Good.” His mother gave a firm nod. “She’s perfect for you.”

That was an understatement, he thought. It was not enough. Perfect for him, truly, but somehow more, too.

Shaking his head, he said, “She’s everything. She and my baby girl are absolutely everything.”

His mother was silent. Her wide grin traveled from her son to the girl in her arms when a tiny hand reached high to touch her cheek. 

“Sweet girl,” she sighed, taking the little hand in hers. 

Eve was the first to accept his mother. 

From the moment their eyes connected a bond was formed that Jake could never fairly break, whether he eventually learned to give his complete trust to his mother or not. Though Eve was so young, there was no doubt in Jake’s mind that she would feel the absence of his mother if they were no longer in one another’s lives. But maintaining that relationship would come with conditions—requirements—mostly along the lines of keeping his father away from you and Eve at all times, in every way possible.

Of course, there was an additional possibility; one his Gram had suggested despite it going against the will of her own son. And you hadn’t argued it, instead leaving the choice to him. A choice that once offered, he really couldn’t go back on. But it was also an opportunity that if taken would actually mean something—a massive leap in the right direction. 

Jake leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on the tips of his knees and clasping his hands. They wrung slowly, nerves exposed through the subtle act. 

“Mom,” he began. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled lightly on the chapped skin. She took her eyes off the girl. He released his lip. “You should stay,” he finally said.

There was a brief flash across her irises. She was just as surprised at hearing his suggestion as he was when deciding to speak it. Her lips quirked a tad, but a moment later they fell back into their natural line, the slight downturned shape making the pinch between her brows seem all the more disheartening.

“Sweetheart…” She sighed again before hugging her granddaughter closer. 

“Let me help you. I can find you a place close by,” he said, finding himself rushing his words from a sudden need to convince her. “You and Dad separated once. You can—”

“Jake, stop.” She stood fast, sharply, impressively without stirring Eve, and closed the few steps between her spot on the couch and Jake’s chair. Carefully handing the infant over, she said, “I think I’ll find your Gram and take her to lunch.”

Her voice was meek on that last bit, too much like her approach with him days before when she showed up out of nowhere begging to be a part of his life. She smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles of her skirt and turned on her heel.

“Just think about it,” Jake said to her back, and from her stuttered step he knew she heard him. “Alright?”

She said nothing. And walked on.

—

You’d been itching to get him alone all day. Jake saw it in your consistent stare that wandered from his grandmother to him whenever he was in range of his mother. But his Gram had occupied your time—his mother Eve’s—and he wasn’t able to give you the chance to drag him away like you had so clearly wanted. In your shared room, though, nothing kept the two of you apart. And while Jake had plans—plans that would definitely require him holding his hand over your mouth from your inability to keep quiet (which, without his mother and grandmother in his house, he would’ve loved)---you had other ideas. 

“Did you ask?”

His brow arched at the childlike curiosity you were trying to contain; at how you were a fraction away from bouncing on your toes in anticipation for the answer. Not with excitement, but with an anxious intensity that seeped through the innocence of your question. He nodded. “She didn’t give me an answer.”

And in that same childlike theme, your face fell into a pout. You sighed and plopped down on the mattress, the nightie that barely covered your mid-thighs rising higher. Jake’s fingers twitched to slide along the smooth expanse of skin, but you sighed again and your hands slapped down on those thighs in some odd form of defeat that Jake didn’t understand, and he couldn’t help but notice the distress on your face. 

His mind switched within an instant. Your worry his worry. And he crouched in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head but he didn’t buy it.

“You really want her to stay?” He examined your face. The frown, the pinched brows, the bitten lip. It was not a look he ever cared to see. “Why so badly?”

You rose quickly, unintentionally knocking him off kilter. You reached a hand out to help steady him, which he took and refused to release even as you tried to begin your pacing. It was only one step that you took before Jake twisted you, wrapping you in his arms to calm you down. 

“Honey…”

You were staring up at him, waiting; for what, he didn’t know, but he waited just the same. Until you were ready.

“Jake, with Eve I felt so alone. I had her and I loved her so much—so much—but my mother wasn’t easy on me. Living with her wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be with you. I wanted my family to be with you. And I just…” You took a breath, looking away from him. His knuckle under your chin made gazes lock again. “I see that in your mother,” you continued. “She’s told me about your dad, and I thought if she had the choice she would stay here, with us…with Eve.”

The tenseness in his shoulders from your distress loosened a tad. “It was your idea? I thought—”

You shrugged. “Your Gram knows your mother better than I do. I figured if she was the one to mention the idea then you’d be more likely to consider it.”

He couldn’t find his words. Jake's heartbeat sped at a pace he instantly recognized. The pace he'd felt when he first saw you behind the bar at the Hard Deck. The same pace when you walked into Rooster's house with Eve. The pace that told him he was in love with you, then and now. 

He pulled you closer, and with a hand sliding behind your neck, he kissed you. You squeaked into the unexpectedness before settling into it, letting your fingers curl into the fabric of his t-shirt at his waist. Jake was thorough, savoring. Your lips sweet against his, tongue lightly teasing, hand weaving into your hair the way he knew you liked. He wanted to give you everything in that kiss. Because in you was that “more” he wasn’t quite able to explain. Perfect for him…but somehow more. It was the part of you that other people didn’t have. The part that took on responsibilities that weren't yours, and tried to protect people that hadn’t done the same for you. A kindness that was so fucking rare. So unbelievable.

You broke the kiss well before he was ready, a question on your face.

“I love you," he said, cupping your jaw, thumbs stroking your cheeks. He shook his head, like he always did when he paused for a moment to take in his life. Never would he have imagined the luck that had washed over him. The luck to have found you, to have you want him as much as he did you, to share a daughter with you. Jake wasn’t known for picturing much of a future with any woman until he saw you, and the very idea of not having met was a tight knot in his chest. It was impossible now. No one could go back in time and change the course set, but even the thought of what might not have been was too much for him to take. "You are so—"

A knock on a door silenced him. 

Jake counted three seconds and the sound repeated. He hadn’t misheard.

His hands fell away from your face as both your heads whipped to the bedroom door. 

His daughter was asleep—that was his first concern. His baby girl was trying to get her rest and that booming through the walls of the house might've been enough to wake her. 

Then he recalled the hour. 

"Who in the—"

"Stay here," Jake ordered as he stepped toward the door, a hand extended behind him, palm up and facing you to try to stop what he knew was coming. 

"No way." You were already tying the strings of your silk robe at your waist.

He sighed, looking back. "Honey—"

"No."

It boomed again. 

Jake winced, waiting for the high-pitched wails from down the hall. They didn't come so he left the room and began down the stairs with you at his heels. 

"Will you at least stay in the kitchen?"

"No, Jake."

"Jesus, woman,” he huffed. The hall?"

He could feel your glare at the back of his head. "...Fine."

"Thank you."

That created at least twenty paces between you and whatever was on the other side of that door. He wouldn't be able to get you any farther away, so that would have to do. 

The noise grew louder with each bang—a beast trying to break through the door as Jake walked closer and wrapped his fingers around the knob. A piece of him screamed to turn back, pretend it wasn't there until it went away, but the territorial part in him said this was his house, his woman, his baby, his family, and he wasn’t going to be hiding in his own home. 

He eased it open just the slightest. But even that was too much. 

His father shoved his way into the house in such a flash of movement that there wasn’t time to react. Jake stumbled, his back hitting hard against the wall. He grunted and looked up. His father stood still, chest rising and falling heavily under a tailored, buttoned jacket while his eyes scanned over the length of you. 

Jake didn't have a second to take in the shock of his father's presence. He shifted into defense. "Don't you dare look at her," he growled.

His father gestured lazily in your direction before meeting Jake's murderous stare. "Your whore, I'm guessing?" 

The hitch of your breath practically echoed, the soft whisper somehow strong enough to bounce off the walls. 

Jake instantly felt the shame of it; of failing to keep the secret of his father's disgusting opinions from revealing. And that sound that left your throat cracked his heart right down the middle. 

His father tsked. "So transparent."

Jake stepped forward and slammed his hand into the older man's shoulder, forcing his stance away from you and towards him. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Nope," he chuckled, or something mildly akin. It was sloppy, jumbled together. An odd sound barely recognizable as a laugh. 

And then Jake could see it. He could hear it. Could practically feel it. "You've been drinking," he said.

"Airlines are generous for men like me; you know that. Now, I'm here for your mother." He cupped his hands around his mouth. Took a deep breath. "Eliza!"

"Jake…" 

Your voice quivered, drawing Jake's eye. Eve began sobbing upstairs from the incessant screams of his mother's name. Panic coursed through his veins at a rapid rate.

"Honey, go to Eve."

"But—"

"Please," he begged, but you hesitated. "Honey, please."

You'd barely made a move before his mother was walking into the room, her granddaughter tucked in her arms and mother-in-law following behind. His mother's face didn't alter at the sight 

of her husband.

"Here," she said, handing you a hiccupping, wet-faced Eve. "She needs her mother." 

She made her way down the hall and smiled sadly when she reached Jake. Her hand rested on his bicep and she lightly squeezed. "And they need you." She nudged her head in your direction.

"Mom—"

"Go to your family. This is not your responsibility."

Jake glanced at his father; at the smug look on his face ever so slightly veiled by an alcohol-induced haze. 

Looking back at his mother, he said, "It's not yours, either."

"We're leaving, Eliza." 

His father was growing impatient, and his mother continued on as though she wasn't concerned with the ticking time bomb just feet away from her. She was, as usual, handling him the way she did best. Calmly. Cleverly. A true professional in an art no one would ever have ambitions to hone. 

She nudged Jake over until he relented and did as she asked. "John," she sighed, turning to him, "you do not want to be arrested in a different state. You'll be fired within the week."

"You're not calling the police."

"Jake will," she replied. "He won't give it a second thought. You're scaring his family."

"His family." Jake's father scoffed, crossing his arms. "An insignificant woman and a child that isn't his."

Your eyes snapped up to Jake's and he hugged you tighter, Eve nestled between your bodies. He knew he'd have to explain it all because you'd undoubtedly demand it of him. And he owed you that, at the very least. Even though the very thought of speaking it aloud stirred his stomach and made him wish there was something, anything, he could sacrifice in return for not having to tell you. He’d willingly snap one of his own bones if it meant he didn’t have to see your face twist in pain and anger and shame, but it was too late for that. 

"She's his, John," his mother insisted. "And you need to go."

"Then get your things."

"I'm staying."

"The hell you are!"

It was then that Gram shot herself out from the sideline, a short ball of fiery fury, hands clenched at her sides. "Enough!"

Jake’s father squinted as if there were a true flame assaulting his vision, but when his altered brain caught up with him, his eyes widened, his head jerked back, he stared at his own mother like he was seeing her for the very first time. As he was, Jake understood then. His father hadn’t sensed her there amidst the scene he was making. 

Jake didn’t know how his father came to learn of where his wife had gone, but he clearly hadn’t expected the same betrayal from the woman who raised him. And such an older man—a man who had always embodied power and force, determination and demand—was just barely restraining himself from shrinking where he stood. 

“I tried so hard,” Gram said, practically shaking, from anger or angst Jake couldn’t say, “to keep you from being like this. I didn’t want you to be like him. I tried so hard and I failed so greatly, and I don’t know how, because I put everything I had into it,” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, one of them dropping onto the hardwood floor. She sniffled. “Jake is not like you, or the men who came before you. And thank god he has always been strong enough to keep you from ruining that.” You buried your face into Jake’s neck as she spoke. “He’s a protector; He does his job. And I will do mine. So you aren’t taking anyone home, I am taking you home.”

Shock fell across her son’s face too quickly to have the chance to be concealed. His lips parted, then they curved to form words. “You don’t—”

“Jake, dear,” his Gram started, head turned to the side to help carry her voice over her shoulder, “Would you call us a car? Surely there is still one available at this hour.”

You took a sudden step forward and Jake instinctually wrapped his fingers around your arm to keep you and his daughter close. “Eve, we aren’t going to let you sit in an airport until you find a flight back to Texas,” you said.

“Eliza I and were leaving first thing in the morning anyway. We will take her ticket. She will stay. We will go.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Jake’s father snapped. He hadn’t bothered to notice his wife making her way closer to their son. He hadn’t so much as glanced at his new granddaughter. Jake wasn’t surprised. His father rarely paid attention to anything. Giving something attention meant acknowledging it was real which meant deciding whether or not to care. He didn’t care. He never did. And it had been decades since much attention had been paid to anything other than himself and the control he refused to relinquish. 

“Then Jake can call the cops instead,” Gram stated. The tears were gone, dried in lengthy lines down her face, but her tone conveyed her heartbreak. “As your mother, that is not what I would prefer, but one way or another you are leaving this house. Tonight.” She inhaled, expelling the heaviest of sighs through her nose. “So, what is it going to be, son?”

—

He watched you from the doorway as you leaned over your daughter’s crib, brushing her wispy hairs out of her face before running your finger softly along the plush cheek. You hadn’t said a word when his Gram and father left. You let him kiss your temple and the top of his baby girl’s head, then you were slipping from his arms to put your child back to sleep as if the night were any other. 

Jake felt lost in the mess—everything he didn’t want you to witness accompanied by the man he never wanted you to meet. The man he came from that he was terrified would make you question just who the father of your daughter might be capable of one day becoming. It would kill him…losing you. Like pliers yanking out chunks of his heart bit by bit until he was left with nothing.

You finally straightened your spine and Jake stepped up behind you, curling his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest. Need your touch, he thought. As much of your body against his as could be managed. Your hand settled on his forearm when he began to press slow, gentle kisses from your jaw to your neck to your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered between each meeting of lips and skin. “I’m so sorry.”

Leaning your head back into his shoulder, eyelids closing, you said, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He came into our home. Insulted you. Scared our daughter.” His hold on you tightened. He inhaled you. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t let anything like that happen.”

Your eyes opened and your head lifted and you met his close gaze. “Baby, we’re alright,” you swore. “We’re safe.” 

He wanted to shake his head. 

“Look at her,” you said, shifting your line of vision to the baby girl in her crib. “She’s safe. She’s perfect.”

“And you?”

Lightly chuckling, you said, “Intact, if you can’t tell.”

Any other day, he would’ve laughed with you. He would have smiled. He would’ve kissed you and taken your teasing for unintentionally getting carried away. He would’ve led you back to your shared bedroom and you’d have fallen atop the mattress and continued kissing and stripping clothes, and you’d get lost in enjoying one another as you so often easily did.

But this wasn’t any other day. 

“I’m not like him,” Jake whispered. “I won’t ever be.”

Despite his hold on you, you spun harshly in his arms. Your brow furrowed. Anger? Confusion? He guessed both. “No, you won’t,” you stressed. “That goes without saying, Jake.”  

When he didn't respond, your hands cupped his cheeks. “Jake, I know you better than anyone. Had that man not shared your eyes, I would never have believed you came from him. Do you understand me?"  

Your soft palms, warm and gentle, and your sweet words, nice and thick like a coating of honey over his body, completely threw him off the edge of the cliff he’d been teetering on all night. His nose stung. His eyes felt pressure under the threat of tears. So many tears were shed in his home in such a short period of time. A new one escaped and your face shattered. 

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, swiping the droplet away with your thumb. “Come here.”

You unraveled yourself from him and he hated it, but then you took his hand and encouraged his steps closer to the crib. Reaching in, you lifted your sleeping daughter, nestling her against your breast. “Kiss our girl,” you said, “Because she’s safe.”

Jake sniffed and swallowed and leaned down to press a long kiss to Eve’s forehead. You nodded and returned her to her little bed, then took his hand again and led him to your bedroom. When you closed the door you faced him, dropped your robe, and walked back into his space, into the cocoon of his arms. 

“Now kiss me.” Your voice was low in the nonexistent space between you. But there was a neediness woven through the words. A neediness he understood incredibly well. “Because I’m safe.”

Lips met. Your arms circled his neck. His fingers slipped under the hem of the silken fabric you wore, thin material rising as his hands moved further up your body. More skin, that’s all he wanted. Just…more. 

When you pulled back, he rested his forehead on yours. 

“We’re always safe with you Jake,” you muttered. "And we won’t forget it."

----

A/N: Turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing :)

[prosperdemeter2]

Teaser Tuesday - watermark

Listen... there were no parts that I could share that aren't, inevitably, painful so... here. Take. I apologize and hope you enjoy your little nibble until Friday.

Eddie opened his eyes, and he stood in the middle of his Abuela’s old backyard, the air still and the sun setting over the lake Abuelo had taught him how to fish on. He had only ever known Abuelo weathered and old, with tired, bright green eyes and laugh lines carved into his mouth. He was younger when he rounded Eddie’s shoulder, his hands steady on both of them as he led him forward. Or maybe Eddie was simply younger than he remembered being because when he looked down at his feet, they were in Power Rangers sneakers, and the world seemed so much bigger than it had seemed in years. “Let’s talk, Eddito.”  Inside, he could hear Adriana laughing with Abuela in the kitchen, and he had always wanted to join them, although Abuela told him he couldn’t with a patient kiss to his head. This is our special thing, okay, bebe? You and me? We have our special thing too, don’t we? But what could Eddie say? He didn’t like being kept out of things that had Adriana laughing with rosy cheeks. She always looked so pretty whenever she was happy, just like their mom. Pepa didn’t have the same rules, but maybe that was because Pepa watched him more than she watched Adriana, since Adriana’s theater classes were at the same time as Eddie’s karate. “Sit, sit.” Abuelo picked him up under his armpits and distributed him on the old picnic bench where his feet couldn’t touch the dock. His arm was warm behind Eddie’s neck, his hand splayed over his left shoulder, his wedding ring glittering in the setting sun. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, Eddito?”  “A long time?” He echoed in curiosity.  “Over twenty years now.” Abuelo hummed.  Eddie hunched himself forward, and his feet landed steady on the dock, holding his weight up. Abuelo’s hand never moved, only pressed harder when Eddie leaned his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. “Cuidado,” Abuelo cautioned. “You don’t want to hurt yourself.”  “Am I dead?”  “Not yet.”  “Christopher -.”  “Shh,” Abuelo soothed softly, gently. “Think about yourself for once, nieto. Your Christopher is fine.”  “This can’t be happening.” Eddie said into his hands. “I need to go home, I need -.”  Abuelo’s tongue ticked, a noise that was so familiar that it sparked a memory in Eddie’s soul. He hadn’t heard it for so long that he was surprised to see that it still had the same gut reaction within him. Abuelo would click his tongue, and Abuela would slap his arm, and they would trade a look between them like they couldn’t believe the audacity of what someone had just said. “You need rest.” Abuelo correctly sternly. “Look at this sunset. When have you ever seen one as pretty as this, huh?”  Eddie peaked through his fingers to look at it. It was pretty, glittering against the water and reflecting the clouds above on its surface. It was the sort of sunset they would have admired, the whole 118. Bobby would have called them up to the roof to watch it as it set against the backdrop of the city, conversation light and no one would have looked twice when Eddie or Buck curled themselves around each other, a bookend to the rest of the team. An indisputable fact of the whole of them. “My family needs me.”  “Yes,” Abuelo agreed with a patient nod. “They do.”  “I need to go home.”  “Eddie,” Abuelo sighed. “You might not be able to make it home.” 

[wildissylupus]

aging DVa and Lucio down, huh? Will there be others on the team that dont get ages changed?? Cuz the only 18 year old left then is Illari. Could see Junkrat, Tracer, and Venture being out the team. I don't think there have been any nonbinary power rangers on screen yet sadly.

Actually I am basing this AU off of fan made skins;

Meaning the rangers themselves are Cassidy, Genji, Pharah, Lucio and Dva. The specific reason I wanted to age Dva and Lucio down was because I didn't want to just follow one Power Rangers storyline, I wanted to do an amalgamation of the ones I grew up with. Which was a lot since I was obsessed with Power Rangers growing up.

But basically with this team I wanted a mix of the adult Ranger experience that we see in some iterations while we get the teen experience like in other iterations with Lucio and Dva. There is also the little fact of me using some of my own headcanons to add to the characters in this AU, specifically Cassidy and Dva having a father/daughter relationship in canon being translated into her being his adopted daughter in this AU. So, out of the Rangers, I'm just changing Lucio and Hana's age.

HOWEVER, that doesn't mean you bring up an excellent point. I will probably age down some other characters to fill out the school setting and give Lucio and Hana stuff to do in their down time. Maybe even make them some rangers who join the team later on later on. So thank you for bringing this up!!

[thegreatcaptainusopp]

The Seer

Ao3 link

Summary: Usopp’s embellished stories are a core part of who he is. Everyone who knows him, who’s even met him, could tell that right away. Only the people closest to him know that that most of these stories, no matter how fantastical they seem, end up coming true. When a rival pirate crew catches wind of this fact, Usopp faces the most harrowing challenge of his life. Set pre-timeskip, right after Thriller Bark.

Prologue: A Fire Seen

It begins, like it almost always does, with a story.

It’s different this time, though. Instead of Luffy barging into the middle of a complex personal drama, or Zoro slicing his way through a legend like it was nothing, the story is told and disrupted by Usopp at the back of a restaurant with nobody listening.

At least, he had thought nobody was listening.

Because, well, why would they? Who, when finding themselves dining aboard the famed Baratie, would deign to listen to the mumbled stories of a no-name teenaged pirate, slightly homesick, tipsy, and desperately searching for an audience?

As improbable as it was, this is the situation the highest ranking members of the Vance pirates find themselves in as they finish off their meals, unparalleled, as always, in the Baratie’s fine ornate dining room.

“East Blue may be kind of a whole lot of nothing,” Lark, his first mate says, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “But damn. They’ve got good food”

“Not just food,” Captain Vance says, carefully setting down his glass on the soft tablecloth. He grabs some of the salt on the table, sprinkling it on his hand and tossing it back over his shoulder. “Entertainment.” He nods towards the table next to theirs, at the ragtag group of kids antagonizing Don Krieg “This is getting interesting.”

“Oh come on Cap,” His navigator, Ranger folds his arms and sighs. “Watching these no-namers get into a fight is entertaining to you? Might as well be watching paint dry, or grass grow. At least that’s good for something. That kid with the straw hat? Completely good for nothing”

And that would’ve been that, had their words not reached the ears of the sniper, knees knocking rapidly, at the next table.

Usopp is not known for his courage, nor for his skills at confrontation. But even now (even then) he is known for not taking it well when someone makes fun of his crew. He’s known them for all of a week, but he still can’t help but submit to the the pull of the words echoing in his head if he thinks it’ll help them.

So, he turns, making quick eye contact with Captain Vance, who gazes back at him coolly. His eyes dart to the rest of them, assessing, trying not to draw ire. He can feel the familiar itch of a story at the back of his mind, and can’t find it in himself to resist, not when they had mocked his captain.

So, fighting back against the ever-present instincts screaming at him to stay quiet, he squares his shoulders before glancing back in the Captain’s direction. “Big talk,” He says, with a voice only shaking a little (a lot). “For a group about to lose their ship.”

Vance’s eyebrows lift into his hairline. “Oh?” He says, amused despite himself.

“Haven’t you heard?” Usopp continues, quailing inside (and out) at the look he receives from the pirate, from the waves of unbothered power emanating from it. “The waves are real bad this time of year. Monsters, you know. Lots of them.”

Zoro, seated at his left, darts a look in his direction, questioning. He looks beyond him, to the group at the other table, narrowing his eyes slightly. He nods at Usopp (you got this) then redirects his attention back to the confrontation Luffy is engaged in.

Captain Vance, despite himself, engages. “Monsters, huh?” He asks. “What, you describing your average day on the Grand Line, kid?”

Katherine, his shipwright, crosses her arms. “What’re you doing?” She mutters. “Stop paying attention to him. He’s nothing.”

Vance ignores her. “Come on,” He goads, sitting back in his chair, pitching his voice a little louder to be heard over the commotion up front. “What were you saying about losing the ship?”

Usopp hears the tone, the mockery, the challenge. His instincts are screaming now, a cacophony of fear and paranoia and restraint. What was he doing? Why even put himself in this situation?

But once the story starts, it doesn’t stop. It’s the story that’s in control now.

“Sure,” He says, sitting up a little straighter. “Yeah, monsters are all over the Grand Line. Of course they are. But no matter how prepared you are, no matter how strong you are, you aren’t beating these monsters.”

Vance’s eyes pinch slightly. “And why is that?” His mouth widens into a grin that’s all teeth.

“Oh, brother,” Ranger mutters into his drink.

“You’re not beating these monsters,” Usopp repeats, clenching his shaking hands into fists. “Because they’re part of the water. They’re dragons. Dragons made of water that spit out tsunamis and sneeze hurricanes. You face them out in open sea? There’s nothing you can do. The seat creates them and reforms them, they can’t die. They haunt the seas, looking for ships to destroy. That’s who you’re up against.”

The story breathes out, then rests. Usopp, released from its hold, collapses back into his seat, shaking.

Vance cocks his head to the side. “Fascinating,” He says dryly, ignoring the prickling feeling under the surface. “Well. Consider us warned.”

Lark grunts. “Want me to take care of this idiot?”

Zoro’s head snaps back to the side, sudden and harsh. Usopp flinches, surprised he had still been paying attention.

“Nah,” Vance says, ignoring Usopp’s yelp at the words. He eyes dart back to the front, to the giant hulking figure in gold and the child with the straw hat, and a smirk grows on his face. “Looks like this one’s about to take care of it for us. Not worth the energy.”

Usopp collapses back in his seat, watching the group wearily as they stand as one and casually walk out. When they disappear from sight, he turns his attention back to Luffy, waiting for his cue to jump in.

He really should’ve listened to his instincts

-

Three weeks later

“Captain…”

“I know,” He says shortly. “I know. There’s no need to tell me. I know.”

His first mate just throws him a look. “That may be the case,” He says, looking around their little dinghy, at the four who remain. “But-”

“I know,” The captain’s fists clench. “Ranger?”

“Yes?” The navigator says, hesitant, from the very back of the small vessel.

“The island was, what? A day’s journey away?”

Lark takes a breath “Captain-”

“Yes,” Ranger interrupts. “I managed to save the Log Pose, it’ll take us a bit longer now but-”

“Good,” Vance cuts in. “Okay. Katherine?”

The shipwright understands without needing to be asked. “I’ll give us a boost,” She says grimly, approaching the sea with great caution.

Lark tries again “Captain-”

Vance’s composure snaps. “Lark,” He says, deadly soft. “If I hear you open your mouth again-”

“It was…” Lark says. Pauses. Takes a breath. “That was…”

Vance sees them in his mind’s eye: great streams of water, rising out the sea, roaring, shooting steam and smashing into the ship until it was nothing more but debris, floating into nothingness.

“Dragons,” He says, looking out in the distance. “Dragons made of water.”

“The kid,” Lark begins, “How did he-”

“Get to the island,” Vance says shortly. “Right now. After that…”

He trails off, staring out at the sea, deceptively calm.

“We’re going hunting.”

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

[revserrayyu]

2.1 Penacony thoughts [part1]

**Mild spoiler warning** until the first moment we switch to Aventurine’s POV in the story and I don’t think much has happened yet, but if you haven’t reached that point yet, then turn away anyway if you wish I’m just gonna ramble a bit here and toss my thoughts into the void for my own reference.

Firstly, the return of the odd yellow text and Aventurine calling us ~fuh-riends~ in that hilarious and exaggerated tone of his.

Makes me wonder whom else has perished during their time in Penacony, and if it’s true, then the Family certainly has experience with covering such things up which raises many other concerns. Also gives me another reason to not fully trust Sunday.

Oh teehee~ We got Aventurine’s number. And some extra credits due to my responses, HA. sugardaddy

As we learned from a beautifully animated dance animation, Black Swan certainly knows how dangerous Acheron can be.

he whole flashback with Duke & Acheron was pretty good. It at least gives us more context rather than us being told he was killed offscreen, but still confirms the dude is dead, though he mentions the kids are alive, somehow. Duke also guessed that Acheron’s an Emanator (though he’s wrong about which path), then there was some important music box that gets brought up later on, and Acheron speaks of her sword that has indeed been sheathed this entire time, even during the 2.0 story.

At the very end of the scene it fades to black and Acheron full says: “May death be the end of your boundless dream, guiding you back to the waking world,” which I remember is the exact thing she said after witnessing Firefly’s death.

Sweetie, you’re a big mystery but it does not surprise me in the slightest to learn that you’re wanted by the IPC after witnessing your power in your many trailers. Hearing her speak about the Stellaron Hunters though made me think back to her character trailer, since I wondered if she even knew who was attacking her in the first place, but perhaps she did, even if the trio was nothing but Sparkle’s tricky illusions.

It was kinda funny seeing her get lost occasionally in the hotel during the previous story update, but now I feel bad knowing that she has horrible memory. Having to rely on your emotions seems quite challenging if you don’t have a good control of them, but she seems to be fairing well enough.

Tell us your suspicions Acheron! I mean, I have my guesses as well, but I’d take your word over anyone else’s.

It was at this moment where I had a real random idea and thought, “huh, could this be Boothill?” I found it strange how they revealed him to us when we haven’t even met the dude in game yet, like he really came in outta nowhere for me. But seeing Sam again and realizing how both of them have robotic bodies.. I dunno. I thought it could’ve been an extra set of armor or something.

Of course it makes no sense, since Sam & Boothill have different voice actors anyways, but still, the way Acheron speaks so familiar to him, as if they were both truly galaxy rangers, gave me second thoughts for just a brief moment. Nothing more. Just a small silly idea.

The return of the worrisome red text, capable of causing anxiety even through such a small word. With her horrible memory, I assume she’s not even sure what she’s supposed to be doing in life, so asking about Elio’s script and if she’s included made me think she’s trying to learn about her purpose and her own goals.

Say it loud, mom! We shall NOT. TRUST. ANYONE! And at this moment I seriously don’t. If they ain’t from the Express then you’re sus. Case closed.

Glad to see Danny boy lending us a helping hand from the train, but red text begone! First learning about how Acheron has terrible memory and now we can’t even remember her well? That can’t be good.

I firmly believed that if you die in the dream, you would just wake up in real life, so thank whatever Aeon you fancy that we’re finally getting the idea to head back into reality to confirm if Firefly and Robin are still alive. Maybe we should check up on those couple npcs that passed away during side quests too.

The way I held my breath.. I don’t even know much about HI3 but I’m aware our grandpa is more or less the same guy, so seeing him interact with some like Acheron, oh dear. The way Acheron still didn’t reveal her true name to him made me more wary too. I get she might not even remember, because poor memory, but hmmm.

I can understand her having some Stellaron Hunter knowledge because she’s wanted just like them, but ma’am why do you know this?? especially since the Family doesn’t even know the truth about Welt’s cane apparently.

Can’t lie, a fight between him and Acheron would be a spectacle. Who do you think would win?

Again, how does she know this? Has she been chatting with Aventurine? because he figured out our stellaron last patch too.

First thought: yay, she’s worried about us. Second thought: why would she be concerned about Black Swan? Shouldn’t it be the other way around after their dance? Third thought: What exactly is Black Swan capable of and how frightened should I be right now? Fourth thought: Acheron, why do you know so much about others??

So this music box.. why exactly does Black Swan have it now? Didn’t Acheron snatch it from Duke Inferno? Was she planning to give it to BS, or did memokeeper steal it off her? I dunno.

Is it me or does it feel like she’s talking to someone else? Another memokeeper? Or just to herself for dramatic effect? Either way, who exactly are we expecting to show up?

I honestly was getting a bit creeped out during this scene, from the weird camera angles the game was giving is to seeing Black Swan not understand what was going on or who was speaking to her. I actually started fearing for her life and I made a stunning realization that if they killed off BS I would actually freak out. Surprisingly, I wasn’t too upset over Firefly (we didn’t spend much time with her), but it feels like we’ve know BS for longer you know? Ever since that trailer about all the Aeons.

I can hear Luocha somewhere in the distance going “the dead return!” I tease, but actually hearing one of those from Ever-Flame Mansion call out to BS was a bit confusing? Duke said his kids were alive, sure, but BS is looking at past memories attached to the music box, right? So I’m still a bit on the fence regarding who out of the kids are actually alive. Maybe some, maybe all. Maybe I’m being played for a fool and thinking about it too much.

How many of y’all got excited to see Ratio interact with Aventurine again? I know you people are out there. Anyways, hearing about how Robin had a stand-in leads me to believe her death was planned, which would upset me greatly because what did that precious lady ever do to anyone??

It’s crazy this man has actually tried several times to end himself inside the dreams, like bro what if you actually succeeded?? At least this shod bring us some relief that Firefly and Robin are okay? Hopefully? I’ll believe when I see them.

I freakin' knew there was something wrong with her voice!! The first couple times we meet her you can tell her voice sounded off, like it was glitching out or something. It’s not very easy to hear, but the difference between the real Robin and Sparkle impersonating Robin towards the end of the last patch sounded different. No wonder Sunday picked up on Sparkle’s trick so easily.

Soooo, that’s pretty much everything I went through after the update hit. Unfortunately it isn’t much but adulting is a drag. Of course I’m looking forward to continuing the story later on. Starting with these men again will be a treat too.

(originally written on 3/27)

[gunshaverrr]

I slowly awake to see Xandia working her magic on my leg where my tibia was shattered when a war axe-wielding bandit successfully flanked our party. Being a ranger, I was tasked with staying back and defending our little healer, and the last thing I remember before blacking out from the searing pain shooting from my calf was seeing Xandia come to my rescue through black-clouded vision. Xandia is a 3-and-a-half foot tall Geckoid clad in off-white robes with red detailing and gold-fiber trim. They’re an unassuming little thing, with a cheery disposition and a penchant for little critters (if my memory serves, I recall them saying they grew up on a frog egg farm in the swamp-marshes of Tihulia). Only, now those off-white robes are more crimson than cream. They finish bandaging my wound with a big smile and implore me to rest before moving on to another member of the party, and I am left wondering how this cute little thing saved me from a hulking bandit as wide as they are tall.

Sir Gregory Littel, the head of our merry band and a veritable brick shithouse of a man, passes me and I call out to him, "Hey, Gregory!"

"Ah, miss Jenevieve, it is good to see you awake! Xandia told us you took a nasty blow to your leg. You had us worried for a moment," he says, and despite the sling around his right arm his tone is as jovial as ever. For being so large and imposing, Gregory Heath is a surprisingly kind and genteel man.

"Yeah, that bandit got the jump on me. Guess my senses aren't as good as they should be, huh. Sorry to disappoint," I say, and I mean it. My first battle with this crew and I make a mistake that nearly kills me and our healer.

He must sense my rising panic because he holds his hands in front of him in a pacifying gesture. "Nothing to apologize for, miss Jenevieve. Everyone makes mistakes in the heat of battle. I am just glad to see you better."

"But I put myself in danger," I say, trying to hide the quiver in my voice as tears begin to fill my eyes regardless "And worse, I was supposed to protect Xandia but my screw-up almost got them killed." At that, Gregory lets out a laugh that comes from so deep in his belly you'd think I just told him the funniest joke ever told. My guilt and remorse quickly fade into confusion, and all I can do is stare at Gregory until he’s finished guffawing. “Oh, ho ho, I do not think we need to worry about them, my friend,” he says. “Xandia can handle themselves.” After a pause, I respond “could elaborate on that…” while making a ‘go on’ gesture with my hand.

Gregory’s laughter dies down and I swear his face blanches a bit. He looks around the camp and, after seeing Xandia on the other side of the tents working their magic on our other mage, he settles onto the ground next to me, one leg bent up for his busted arm to rest on. “I know you are new to our little group,” he starts, “but I would like to keep you around so suppose you have a right to know. Xandia is easily the most powerful member of our team. Quite frankly, they might be one of the strongest mages I have seen outside of a court.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “That little thing,” I ask, my incredulity no doubt written all over my face. “Okay, that’s a good joke. But seriously, what-”

All humor drains from my face when I look up and see Gregory’s serious expression, his face stone-set in intensity, his eyes locked with mine. “This is no laughing matter, Jenevieve,” he says, before turning his gaze down to the ground. “Every day I am grateful to count dear Xandia as a friend rather than an enemy.” An impregnable silence forms between us, lasting for an eternity before I can finally muster up the will to speak.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Gregory’s gaze focuses on the campfire in front of us. “Long ago, when you were no doubt still a young lass learning how to whittle arrowheads, I was the captain of a company of soldiers in the Sandian military. We were one of the best in our division, owed in no small part to the undying loyalty between my men and I. They were some of my closest compatriots, many of us cutting our teeth in guardsman training together as youths. I knew each and every one by name: their hobbies, their favorite campfire stories, where they grew up. We were thick as thieves, or so I thought. A few years ago, some of my closest men and I were camped north of Kasi, a little hamlet just outside of Balalan territory. We were a forward party, sent ahead of the company. The plan was to meet with the Diwan of the bordering Balalan region to negotiate a trade route; only, my men had a different idea.

“The night we arrived, we drank to the negotiations, saying a prayer for success. The next morning, I awoke in chains in the dungeon of the stronghold in Cheshapa, the seat of the Diwan. As I learned after the fact, my men⏤my closest brothers⏤sold me out. 30 years of service together; 30 years of loyalty; 30 years of blood, sweat, and tears shed with and for these men, apparently all meant nothing in comparison to a few acres of Balalan farmland.” I can see the anger and resentment wash over Gregory’s expression. But beneath that, deeper down, I sense a profound sadness to his words. I reach out and gently rest my hand on his, and I give him an understanding look that tells him to take his time. I know how it feels to be betrayed: the shame it makes you feel, the ache in your heart, the amount of damage it can do to your ability to trust. It speaks volumes that he is comfortable enough with me to tell me this story. After taking a moment to settle himself he continues.

“Fortunately, it was by divine providence that Xandia was in Cheshapa that day. Or maybe it was only dumb luck…” I squeeze his hand. I also understand what it feels like to have a crisis of faith. You and I are more alike than I thought, big guy, I think to myself. “Either way,” he continues, “as Xandia tells it, they happened to come across some of my men spending big in the local gambling house. Being an adventurer at heart, they could sense something was amok. It is not typical to see soldiers with as large of fortunes as they were waving around. Xandia never told me how they got the information out of my men, but after witnessing their rescue of me, I never had to ask.

“By now, I’m sure you’ve noticed how accomplished a healer our Geckoid is,” Gregory says, glancing up from the fire and over the camp towards Xandia. “On top of being a good all-purpose healer, Xandia is a skilled volantus ossium Adept.”

“Shit,” I say, the weight of what he is saying hitting me like a runaway bull, “they’re a bone mage. Aren’t those, like, super rare,” I ask, and Gregory nods silently.

As if they can sense us talking about them, Xandia looks over at us and gives us their trademark wide smile and an exaggerated wave. Gregory gives an equally enthusiastic smile and a wave, while mine are much more timid in my attempt to reconcile this newfound information about our healer with my previous view of them. Turning back to Gregory, I ask, “so, what happened next?”

His gaze drops back to the fire and his expression returns to something more neutral, though I can feel a distinct sense of awe in his words. “As I sat chained to the floor, wallowing in my own self-pity, I was stirred out of my stupor by screams in the hallway outside. The four guards posted outside of my cell readied their weapons, but they never stood a chance. The door to the chamber was reinforced from the inside, and still it broke with ease as a wave of skeletal bodies burst forth, collapsing on one of the guards. Another guard was killed instantly when his own bones were formed into spikes protruding from every inch of his body. I barely had time to notice the small figure in the doorway before the remaining two guards leveled their spears at the approaching mass of skeletons. One of them was thrown off when the bones of previous prisoners that littered the floor melted and formed an undulating mass at his feet, solidifying and locking him to the ground. Two of the skeletons grabbed his arms and pulled him down, while the rest⏤scarred and missing bones from the battle outside⏤began cannibalizing him for scraps. The final guard had a look of resignation on his face, but it was too late, as his body had already begun folding in on itself. For what felt like an eternity the room was filled with the sharp sound of cracking bone, the wet shlop of chunks of meat being tossed about by the skeletons, and the gargled screams of the final two guards before everything eventually went silent.

“There I sat chained to the floor, barely beginning to comprehend what had just occurred through the blood and viscera now caking the walls, when the small figure began approaching me. I was sure I was next and, rather than beg for my life, I pleaded with the figure for a swift and merciful death.” A small smile graced Gregory’s lips. “You’ll imagine my surprise when this unassuming little Geckoid, covered from head to toe in blood and guts, pipes up with the sweetest voice and said [and here Gregory sits up straight and does his best impersonation of Xandia’s swamp-marsh belle accent] ‘Oh, bless your sweet little heart, I ain’t here to hurt ya! Now let’s skedaddle.’”

By the way Gregory looks at me and starts laughing, I can tell my jaw is on the floor. “After we made it out of Cheshapa, we returned to my company. We told them of the betrayal and the company set off for Nancontenay to inform the Council of what happened. Xandia accompanied us, claiming they had business in the capital, but I think they could sense my internal struggle and wanted to be there for me. I appreciated their presence greatly. After I met with the Council, I tendered my resignation from the service. Despite my best efforts, I could not bring myself to trust my men anymore, and a good captain cannot command his men on a foundation of fear.”

He clasps my shoulder with his good hand and looks me in the eyes.

“I understand why you think I would be disappointed in you, Jenevieve, but I assure you I am not. You made a simple mistake, it happens to all of us.” He moves to stand up. “But you are wrong about one thing. We didn’t put you in the back of the party to protect Xandia. We put you there so Xandia could protect you.”

I watch Gregory as he walks away and is intercepted by Xandia. The two share some pleasant words that I can’t hear before embracing, and I find myself agreeing with Gregory; I am damn glad Xandia is on our side.

The rest of your party is always making sure that you, the healer, stay in the back. Not because they don’t want you to get hurt, but because they all still remember the last time you took the front line and nobody wants a repeat of that.

[peterparkersnose]

Eddie&Chrissy

word count: 899

warnings: none, just the domestic life of eddie and chrissy, takes place in early 2000s. Chrissy is about early mid-30s and Eddie is mid-30s. There all adults in this story :)

a/n i am so heartbroken. what could have been. duffer brothers, im coming for you. also first non y/n story, i hope you guys like it :)

summary The daily life of Eddie and Chrissy

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read time: 3 mins 16 seconds

Chrissy awoke to her alarm clock. Nine am on the dot. She was used to her husband, Eddie, being gone so early. Work calls. 

She slipped on her pink slippers that sat perfectly next to her bed. After deciding the September air was a bit too cool for her liking, she grabbed her fluffy robe off the hook that Eddie had bought her for Christmas. The floors to the old house creaked as she made her way down the hallway to check on her son. 

Her son. 

James Dustin Munson. 

He was now three and full of energy. Chrissy was shocked to find him passed out in his bed. Flashbacks of the night before flooded through her mind. Eddie and James dancing around to Metallica. They stayed up quite late, later than James’s bed time. 

Sighing at the memory, Chrissy turned to walk to her bathroom. The fresh condensation and hair products on the counter meant Eddie hadn’t been gone for long. She brushed her hair until it was smooth, then braided it down her back. Chrissy brushed her teeth, applied some deodorant, and went downstairs to prepare breakfast. 

Eddie had left her some fresh coffee, still warm. She poured it in her favorite mug and began to make eggs. A three year old is very picky, so Chrissy was happy that one of his favorite foods was a good breakfast food. 

While the eggs were cooking, she looked out her backyard. The beautiful green grass was covered in dew. It was due for a mow soon. James’s play balls and toys were sprawled out across the lawn. The swings in the back swayed lightly in the wind. 

Her train of thought was distracted by a faint “Mama!” from upstairs. She set her coffee down and quickly tiptoed upstairs to find James sitting in the hallway. 

“Good morning  baby!” Chrissy cooed, outstretching her arms to the boy. He grabbed her neck swiftly, signaling he wanted to be carried. “Your getting a little too big for this, huh?” Chrissy struggled as she picked him up. “Daddy can carry me,” James complained. “Well, daddy is much stronger than me. Hm?”

James then stuck out his arms and flexed as well as a three year old could. “Wow! Very strong.” Chrissy smiled as she set him down in his high chair. 

As James was eating and watching the Sesame Street on the small tv in the kitchen, Chrissy snuck upstairs to get dressed. She pulled on her pink sweatpants with a white hoodie. 

During the day Chrissy took care of the house. That particular day she cleaned the kitchen, picked up the backyard and dusted. James followed her around the whole time, trying to imitate his mother by helping. His helping turned into him just playing with his outside toys and his power ranger action figures. 

Eddie came home around 5:30 every day. He barely graduated high school, so after school he got a corporate job that he’s held for about ten years. It made good money. Chrissy and James lived comfortably, and that’s all that mattered. 

His fluffy hair was extra frizzy today. He hated the pony tail he had to wear, he wished he could just let it hang out as he did. But you have to maintain a certain look for corporate. 

“I’m home!” Eddie sang loudly through the whole house. He dropped his briefcase next to the door like he did every day. There was wear beginning to form on the floor from the habit. 

“Daddy!” James called out, rushing to the front door like he did every day. Eddie picked him up in his arms and hugged him, spinning him around. Laughs erupted from the boy. That was one of Eddie’s favorite sounds. 

“Where’s mommy?” Eddie asked, ripping the hair tie out of his hair and flinging it across the room. “In here!” Chrissy yelled from the kitchen. 

“Something smells good,” Eddie said, kissing Chrissy on the cheek. “Casserole?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist as she prepared the food. He put his face into the crook of her neck, smelling her iconic Britney Spears perfume. 

The three of them ate at there kitchen table together. James went on about a bug he found outside today, and Eddie was intrigued. Chrissy reminded him to put his hair products away in the morning. Eddie described the traffic jam on the way to work that was just awful. 

Eddie decided to put James to bed. He gave his son a bath and dressed him in his red and blue striped pajamas. Chrissy could hear all the voices Eddie was making and all the dramatic sounds he would use to narrate James’s books. Her heart swooned, knowing she married one of the best guys out there. 

She put on the tv in their room and decided on a detective show. Eddie eventually showed up after James had fallen asleep. 

“My love,” he said, entering the room. He grabbed Chrissy’s hand and kissed it. “Any plans for tonight?” he asked. Chrissy yawned and embraced him as he jumped in bed. “Just you,” she smiled, wrapping her arm around her husband’s waist. Eddie sighed in relief as he settled into bed. Chrissy moved her head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her. 

“I love you Chris,” Eddie sighed, relishing in his life. 

“I love you too, Ed.”

*

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[exxay]

Noir Corne Lore Hell Yeah

The record is about Noir being a sort of "Older Brother" like figure to the other operators, and his past with Yato. It also touches up on his relationship with the people he works with and Dokutah.

The record is set in a rest are for operators, more specifically; the bar. Where Noir, Barty, Chard, and Dylan (Dylan is the only recurring one here, the rest are new npc's) are all having a drink and lounging about. The conversation is mostly about event's from Chapter 5 in facing Mephisto's herd, and we can clearly see just how stressed and affected they are. It humanizes the "background" characters and shows how some of the operator's we don't see interacted with think of Dokutah and Kal'pog. We don't see it, but they ARE still people, people with stress and limits, and even daughter's and exes. But we aren't here to talk about them.

Relationship with Yato

The biggest tidbit we have of this now is the "Story" he tells while they're playing a game of cards, it's framed as a cliché "Oh, he's telling a story about someone else but in fact it's actually him" He used to be one of those run of the mill mercs that was backed by a very powerful entity and treating his orders as "just another job". Hiding behind the phrase as to not deal with the atrocities he commits, like a mask. Noir was ordered to kill a woman and her daughter, it didn't matter what they were he was told to do it, and he readied himself by telling himself "that's just how it is", another form of mask he wears. But, before he could deal the blow, he got intercepted, and again he treats it as "that's just how it is". But then he notices it was actually another Oni that intercepted him. As you can guess, its Yato. And it's in the next few lines that we suddenly get context as to what Noir's deal with Yato is.

More specifically, what she said to Noir

Noir Corne So he asked her, what is it you wanna do

Noir Corne And she told him, she didn't wanna do anything. She just didn't wanna hurt another innocent person

Noir gave up on choosing a path for himself because he couldn't bear what walking those paths would entail, as well as thinking to himself that he most likely didn't deserve it. Hiding behind a mask of apathy to cover everything up. But with Yato's interference he suddenly saw a whole new perspective, finally finding himself a reason to decide to finally choose a path. One he never thought he could take.

Since both would be basically committing desertion, they decided to to desert together.

The other operator's even lampshade it by saying it went from horror to romance all of a sudden. It could very well be that way, who knows. All we know is that Yato turned Noir's life around.

The Mask™

The context behind the mask are that he's "obsessed with them", yes obvious is obvious but that's not all of it.

A lot of the mask he collected on his journey are either really important relics of different clans that have been passed on for millennia or were like majora's where each mask gave a certain power, one gave him Super Saiyan 2 and another one of his masks apparently makes him unaging and immortal though the authenticity of the power's aren't easy to confirm as the story leads us to believe that it's made up.

A part of me says is really conflicted in that regard, we at least know why he collects them now, and even how. But the way he talks about their powers, it could be true. But it could just as well be made up to fuck with his current company.

Broskis with Dokutah

Finally, at the end of the record we get to interact with the group showing how Dokutah, despite his gigantic workload, memorizes their names, naming them all one by one. It surprises the all of them, thinking that Dokutah had better things to memorize than their names. Shows how far up of a position we have huh?

There's also the fact that this little interaction shows just how far from the warlord who throws bodies to the morgue faster than you can say "FOR THE EMPEROR" the current Dokutah is.

At the end of the record, Noir thanks you and offers to stay and have a drink with you.

What a bro man, what a bro. I really want some Bloodline of Combat skins for Yato and Noir now, especially after reading his Operator Record. You know what I'd like, a one artwork skin where they both have the outfits they wore when they first met. Oooh, god now i want Ranger's, I'd really love to see more about his badassery. What about you guys, who'd you like to have a operator record of next?

[floatingpetals]

Call of the Mountains || Ch. 9

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)

Warnings: nothin really

Word Count: 1500+

Summary:  (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)

A/N: Hey all! So it’s been a while huh? I can’t make any promises that this will be frequent but I wrote a little bit and wanted to post it! I hope you all enjoy and thank you for being so patient with me! I’m hoping I can get back to the swing of things. I also didn’t really edit so I’m sorry if there’s errors 😅 Enjoyyy!!

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Series Masterlist

Y/N woke to the sound of power turning back on in the house. It was jarring at first, the sound of the air conditioner turning on and several loud beeps sounded around the house. She could hear someone in the hall muttering an oath over a practically loud incessant beeping before it was finally silenced. Blearily she glanced out the window, the sun had just peaked over the mountains casting bright rays through the large open window.

Letting out a sigh, she figured it was best to get out of bed. No point in hiding in the room, especially not with how her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. Y/N glanced at her dirty clothes and wondered if they had a washing machine she could use now that the power was back on. Snagging them in her uninjured hand, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do her business before creeping into the living room.

The sound of the television filtered down the hall as she inched around the corner, she spotted Bucky standing in front of the television with his arms crossed and back tense. It took her a quick glance at the headline to understand his frustration. The rain from last night created floods and knocked down trees on most major roads in the area, specifically around the reserve. Which meant she was stuck.

“Oh well that’s a great thing to wake up and see,” She mumbled and walked up beside him. She bit her lip to stifle a giggle when she saw him flinch and his head swivel around towards her.

Bucky nearly flew out of his skin when she materialized beside him. He had to take a deep breath, to calm the start to his heart as well as the frustration in himself how quickly he forgot she was capable of sneaking upon him. That was definitely not a common occurrence for him. He should have scented her at the very least. Maybe it because she’s wearing my clothes, he tried to reason.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Her giggle finally won. Bucky grumbled, but couldn’t stop the grin growing on his face. “So we’re blocked in huh?”

“Looks like it.” He nodded. “Steve’s gone out to see if we can still get out to the pa-cabins. My phone hasn’t blown up yet, so either it means we’re in the clear or he’s in the middle of cleaning up the roads and hasn’t had a chance to call and bitch yet.”

“Let’s hope it’s not too bad if there are any downed trees.” She mumbled and watched the forecast. She winced. Now it was supposed to rain every day for the next week. Just great. “I guess I shouldn’t have tried my luck. First, the questionable rain forecast, then I fall in a river, fracture my wrist, and now I’m literally flooded in.”

“At least you’re not stuck in your tent!” Bucky grinned trying to remain optimistic. “Speaking of which, Natasha said she’d call the rangers station for you and see what she could have them do about your stuff. Better her let them know you’re safe than them waste manpower trying to find you.”

“Oh,” Y/N blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. “That’s sweet of her.”

“If you have anything you can think you’d need, let me know and I can see if Natasha can’t get them for you.” He didn’t offer how she could get them or how she knew which campsite was hers, but Y/N also didn’t think to ask. Probably got the info from the ranger station, Y/N reasoned.

“I guess my phone, so I can tell my parents I’m alright and let my job know I might not make it back when I agreed to be back.” She said. “And maybe some of my clothes. Speaking of which, do you have a washer I could borrow?”

Bucky blinked and finally looked down at the bundle of clothes in her hand.

“Oh! Yeah of course,” He motioned her to follow through the kitchen and to what looked like a mudroom converted to a laundry room. “If you ever need to use it, feel free. Detergent is in the box and the softener is that white container. While you do that, do you want anything to eat? I should have asked you that first.”

“Oh,” she looked up from the brand-new fancy washing machine and over to where Bucky hovered in the doorway. “I’m okay with whatever you have available. Can I make a special request for some coffee with cream and sugar?”

“You sure can.” Bucky beamed with a wink, leaving her to it in the room with a noticeable bounce in his step. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen, finding it incredibly adorable how enthusiastic he appeared to be cooking her something. She shook her head with a giggle and turned back to the machine.

After a few minutes of fumbling with the fancy machine that had way too many settings, Y/N went back to the kitchen where Bucky was plating her food. He flashed a smile over his shoulder and motioned for her to sit at the table. A steaming cup of fresh coffee sat at the table, fork, and knife waiting as well.

 “Go ahead and take a seat. I didn’t know how much sugar you wanted, so it’s in the bowl next to the salt and pepper.”

“Thank you.” Y/N hummed eagerly and sank into the seat. She had just finished putting in her sugar and took a sip when Bucky set the plate of food in front of her. Piled high with eggs, bacon, and hash browns, the smell hit her nose, and instantly her mouth started to water. Completely uncaring what he thought about her table manners, she dug in.

Amused, Bucky slid into the seat across from her with his own plate and cup of coffee. He watched her for a moment, a grin on his face before he too dug in. Mentally, he was going over the list of things that needed to be done. He had a pack to keep safe, first and foremost. While Steve might be handling the cleanup, Bucky was usually in charge of making sure everyone was accounted for and they had everything they’d needed.

True they were an efficient pack that didn’t need help from the outside, but it didn’t mean they were completely prepared for natural disasters. Cabins would need to be inspected, generators most likely needed to be fixed, food needed to be replaced, the roads and paths they usually took would need to be checked so there wasn’t something that could cause problems down the line. There was also the fact he had yet to hear from Wanda or Pietro.

The twins were supposed to be patrolling last night and would usually check-in before the sun rose when they returned. Neither had contacted Bucky or Steve, and Bucky was growing concerned. They were quite capable of taking care of themselves, but this was not normal for the two.

He was so busy worrying and planning he didn’t notice Y/N had stood to move beside him until her soft scent drifted to his nose. He blinked and tilted his head back, startled for the second time that morning. He had to swallow his tongue to keep the purr his beast made down. Oblivious to the effect she had on him, Y/N smiled softly and motioned to his empty plate.

“You finished?”

Bucky’s cleared his throat and nodded dumbly. Y/N took their plates and went to the sink. He watched her go to the stove to grab the skillet and heading back to the sink before turning the tap on. The sound of water and clinking plates snapped Bucky out of his stupor.

“Oh, you don’t have to clean those!” He jumped up and began to cross the kitchen to her side. She shot him a look that stopped him short and reached for the sponge.

“You made me breakfast, the least I can do is while the plates down before putting them in your dishwasher.” She replied smoothly. Bucky opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off again. “Nope, it’s how we do it my house. You cook, I clean.”

Bucky chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, more than aware he lost this argument. He didn’t get a chance to argue anyways, he could hear his phone going off in the living room where he left it.

“Alright, alright. You win. Just keep your cast dry.” He shot over his shoulder.

“Aye aye, captain!” Y/N shouted back, giggling at the amused snort that she received in answer.

Smiling from ear to ear, Bucky answered the call from Natasha in a rather happy mood. But the tone that greeted him cut his happiness off short.

“Barnes, you need to get down here. Steve’s pissed. Bring Y/N too. She needs to see this.”

The phone clicked before he could ask what the hell was going on, not at all a normal Natasha thing to do. A sinking feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He turned slowly to look over his shoulder where Y/N stood at the sink, loading his dishwasher humming a happy tune, and wondered what the hell happened last night they didn’t know about.

[jenojaemssss]

[3:46pm] "turn left near the park," you half-yell over the phone to the heavy breathing boy on the other end. best friend!jeno only makes you roll your eyes when he breathlessly mumbles an "okay." the man is just so damn stubborn.

the day before your brother’s 6th birthday party, you rang him, telling him you'd swing by to pick him up, being that it was somewhat of an inconvenient trip to your parent's place from his, but he insisted he'd bike over because it “can’t be that bad.”

yeah...okay.

and that’s why you’re here now, yelling over the phone for what seems like the 80th time over the past 30 minutes, asking the brown haired boy for his location. before you can get an answer, you see a helmet-covered head make a zoom past your driveway. you put down your plate of food that your aunties have forced onto you and bolt out to the front of the driveway, shouting multiple "oi!'s" and "dude!'s" at the boy. jeno turns his head around at your voice, almost running into a street light as he does so.

waving him over, he turns his bike towards your figure, pedaling his way back to the front of your driveway. as out of breath as he was, he plasters what you consider a smile too angelic and bright for any pair of human eyes, while his own were invisible. he climbs off his bike, sweaty from the long ride.

like a parent lecturing their son, you turn towards him as he parks his bike, furrowing your brows. "i told you i would pick you up."

by now he was probably used to your intense nagging and brushes it off, smiling even brighter (if humanly possible) as he approaches your little brother, who seems to be sprinting at the pair of you at full speed, with open arms.

"happy birthday! how's my favorite little human?"

"jeno!" your little brother jumps into his arms, jeno lifting the boy easily and spinning him around a few times before setting him down.

"jumper! let's go play in the jumper!" your little brother squeals. you pretend to act offended, and they both look at you in confusion.

“i asked you if you wanted me to play with you literally 10 minutes ago and you said no!”

“you were on the phone with jeno!” he retaliates.

“you like jeno more than me don’t you?” you pretend-sob at the little boy staring up at you in his spot next to jeno’s leg. jeno looks at you questionably but plays along anyways.

“you do don’t you! you like me more right, little man?” jeno playfully smiles at the boy.

“what if i do,” your brother crosses his arms and stares up at you, tapping his annoying little foot as he does so.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, and jeno turns to look at you, a little surprised, but also looking a little sorry.

you see the look in his eyes and motions for him to brush it off, knowing your brother just prefers your jeno because of the way he literally does EVERYTHING the little boy wants. you honestly sometimes question if jeno was your best friend, or your brother’s best friend with how close the two boys have gotten over the past couple years.

“you turn 6 and now you’re a smarty, huh?” you laugh after a little stare off with your brother, then nudging the boy. he smiles up at you even brighter, and you give him a kiss on top of his head. “go play with your cousins, and we’ll come over to you after jeno gets a little rest, okay?”

the boy pouts a bit, but nods and runs off to the group of kids crowding inside the power rangers themed jumper. jeno looks after your brother and laughs at the jumper, turning to you and pointing his thumb at the banner.

“get in gear,” you motion at him.

“how on brand of him,” he laughs and sets his gift down on the gift table. you know that inside the terribly wrapped package is a “power rangers beast monster morphing toy set thingy” (what jeno called it, not you) since he facetimed you a few days before, frantically pointing between that, and 4 other ranger-themed toys on the shelves of your local toy store.

“super,” you chuckle.

before the two of you could even sit down at the makeshift picnic table, he’s stormed by the aunties. and then the uncles. and then by your parents. and then by everyone else.

“popular eh?” you tease the boy, who seems even more out of breath and tired now than he was when he got here. jeno lets out a little jeno-noise, one you labelled the “jen-oh?” and you laugh at him even more.

“be honest, who’s your favorite,” you chuckle and motion towards the group of adults, either yelling at the kids to be careful, swinging back a couple beers, or just gossiping in the corner.

“you,” he gives you an eye-smile. you smack his arm in response, and you don’t know if it’s the heat of the too-hot-to-be-spring day or the bubbling feeling in your chest, but your cheeks are beet-red.

“shut up.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

i don’t know if you take meet ugly requests outside of the list, but if you do, I’m always a sucker for stern finding out barclay is bigfoot in a different way (wink wink nudge nudge they are having sex and the bracelet comes off)? no problem if not though :)

Sure thing! Here you go. I believe the joke about "bigfoot hunting" came from @bellafarallones originally. I set this in the 70s, just for fun.

The irony of his worst-case scenario being everyone else’s euphemism for a good time is not lost on Barclay.

He’s not even sure when “bigfoot hunting” became code for “get down in the woods” in Kepler’s little gay community. He just knows that, until someone cleared it up for him, he was panicking from all the guys saying they and their friend ought to go looking for him.

Now he’s in the wildest situation imaginable: considering asking someone to go bigfoot hunting with him.

It’s not his fault the stone fox that is Joseph Stern decided to stay at Amnesty Lodge. Ned and Aubrey even tried to talk him out of it (for the very good reason that the fewer out of towners hanging around a space crawling with cryptids, the better) but the guy wasn’t interested in the other digs in town. In his more confident moments, Barclay likes to think seeing him behind the lunch counter is what swayed his decision.

It’s not a totally bogus conclusion; Joseph sends more than just meal times in Barclay’s restaurant and, increasingly, his kitchen. He does crossword puzzles over coffee, asking Barclay for help and criticizing the clues (Barclay has to agree with him, whoever is writing the crossword in the Kepler Gazette is really reaching lately). He stops by and reads at his table or the counter during lunch. And in the evenings he sticks around after closing, keeping Barclay company as he wipes down tables and sets up the chairs. Lately, he even helps him close up.

The encroaching summer is making it worse. Joseph, stylish as he is, favors this year’s trend of shorts that are shorter than most of Barclay’s boxers. Combine that with his always slicked-back black hair and sharp, blue eyes and Barclay is getting really, really good at keeping something in front of his crotch at all times.

For the first two months, he thought his crush on Joseph was as hopeless as cooking a souffle in a hurricane. Then the songs started.

They’d been talking about music, Joseph paying close attention whenever Barclay mentioned a band or song he dug. Barclay didn’t think much of the concentration in his eyes until that night, when the jukebox near the counter started wailing out Gladys Knight. No one ever picks that, he just put it in there so he can listen to it before they open.

When he’d poked his head out of the pass-through, Joseph winked at him from his usual seat.

Since then, he and Joseph trade songs back and forth, Barclay slipping his coins in when he goes out to drop an order on the counter. The longer they do it, the more the titles seem to convey messages, meaning Joseph’s favoring of “Let’s Get it On” this past week is driving Barclay to distraction.

This afternoon, he’s sweeping up the floor when the other man walks in, sweat running down his forehead and hiking boots on his feet.

“I saw you’re closed the next two days.” He tips his head at the sign Barclay posted on the door.

“Yeah, getting new cooktop and doing some repairs on the ceiling. Not great for business this weekend, but I’m looking forward to having a stove that doesn’t have cold spots in random places.”

“Are you, um, doing anything on your days off?”

“Nothing big. You, uh, you wanna hit the town?” He grins to hide his hopes.

“We could. But I was thinking, you know the forest pretty well and I could use a second set of eyes and, well...do you want to go bigfoot hunting tomorrow?”

Barclay directs just enough focus from keeping his hands from snapping the metal handle to his mouth to say, “sure thing.”

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

“According to the map Ranger Newton gave me, this spot is still within bounds for camping with the permit I have.” Joseph studies the treetops, the brush, their proximity to the river and his second map, the one with all his notes. Yes, this is the optimal spot for a stakeout.

“Sweet.” Barclay opens the trunk, “I’ll get the tent set up.”

They have plenty of daylight left, but it won’t hurt to have camp all ready to go before they set off; if all goes well, they may not be back until after dark, and he’s pitched enough tents in the pitch black for one lifetime.

He secures their food and builds a rudimentary fire pit, then grabs his sleeping bag to toss into the erected tent. Barclay is still inside, straightening out his sleeping bag and adjusting the pillow. Joseph kicks off his shoes and zips the mesh door to keep out the bugs; cicadas are harmless but that doesn’t mean he has to like the idea of one crawling on him in his sleep.

“How’s it look?” Barclay watches him intently as he unrolls the sleeping bag.

“Perfect. Nice and cozy.”

A happy growl from beside him, then a big hand closing around his wrist and pulling him atop the cook.

“Good” Barclay looks up at him, licking his lips, “didn’t wanna waste any time.”

Lord, his chest is broad from this angle. Joseph’s professionalism is all that stands between him and spending the rest of the day leaving hickeys on it.

“Barclay, I’m not opposed to this, but we should do what we came here first.”

“...Is this not why you wanted to come here?”

“I thought I was pretty clear about coming to look for bigfoot. Why do you think I brought the binoculars? And the headlamps?”

Beautiful, brown eyes blink up at him. Then, Barclay chuckles, “Think I see what’s up. Around here you, uh, you ask someone on a ‘bigfoot hunt’ if you’re looking to score. No idea why, but it’s so common it didn’t even occur to me that you’d mean something else.”

He snickers, “Almost sounds like something I’d come up with on my own. But no, we’re spending today walking that creekbed.” Curious, he wiggles his hips as he leans down to whisper, “then we can spend tonight like this.”

Barclay whines, settling his hands politely on Joseph’s ass.

“You’ve wanted this awhile, haven’t you big guy?”

“Uh huh, Joseph, baby, the things you do to me, woulda let you fuck me over a hot stove if it meant you’d touch me-” His eyes are huge, pupils blown out in black pools of promise.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal; I’ll let you ask for one thing now. Everything else has to wait until we’re done with work for the day.”

“Yes, yes, deal, I, I wanna” Barclay closes his eyes, inhaling long and deep through his nose, “fuuuuck, I wanna suck your dick. Can I? Please?”

Joseph hesitates; no one ever asks for that, and by the time his pants are off they’re too horny to complain at his dick and just go for whatever hole they were planning on fucking in the first place.

“I, um, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re picturing.” He sits up, heart pounding at his chest to tell him he’s blown it.

Barclay shakes his head, “I promise I know what I’m getting, been thinking about it all day, fuck, been driving me crazy.” His shorts hit his knees, Barclay thumbing the crease of his thighs with a moan, “yeah, fuck, c’mere.”

He makes a noise that would, in any other context, embarrass him as Barclay manhandles him far enough forward to sit on his face. But this is Barclay, sweet and gentle and so hot he’s amazed he’s not getting second degree burns. The burn he is getting just makes him laugh, Barclay’s short, auburn beard scratching the inside of his thighs.

“Shit, Barclay, shit, try, try a little lower? Ohhhhhfuck.” A crinkle of fabric as he grips the tent floor, Barclay is making sounds unlike any partner he’s ever had, grunting and moaning as forces more of him against his mouth. It’s all hot breath and grazing teeth and need, something Joseph is seldom the target of. He closes his eyes, let’s himself relax into a slow, steady roll of his hips against Barclay’s mouth.

There’s a rhythmic, frantic whss of fabric behind him, moaning from beneath. He flicks sweat from his eyes as he glances over his shoulder; Barclay isn’t even bothering to get his shorts off, is jerking his impressive cock as his lips close around Joseph’s own.

“Did, did you get that hard just from this?”

“Mmmhmm” Barclay looks up with wild, delighted eyes.

“Christ” he giggles, runs a hand through his hair as his orgasm circles closer, “didn’t think my dick being wet would be all it took.”

“Mmmph!” There’s a jolt of movement that signals Barclay cumming, a groaning growl buzzing up his dick just long enough to set his nerves dancing and draw his orgasm over the brink.

His words are gone, stay that way as Barclay eases him backwards and scoots so he can sit up. All he wants to do is hunker down in this tent and go at it until they pass out.

“Joseph? Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m incredible.”

“I’ll say” Barclay pulls him into his arms, “guess we oughta get clean and get a move on, huh.”

“As much as I hate to say it, yes. I really can’t waste this chance.”

Barclay pecks his lips, “Okay. Uh, can I borrow some shorts? I only brought one other pair.”

Twenty minutes later, Joseph is learning just how distracting another human being can be when your clothes are stretched around their thick thighs and they’ve taken their shirt off to combat the heat. Lord, if he were not on a mission he’d fuck Barclay’s imprint into the shore.

Speaking of his mission, while they don’t find bigfoot, Joseph does find some promising footprints and some fur he can’t identify. By the time they trek back to camp, their dinner is well-deserved and very appreciated. When Barclay asks if he wants dessert, Joseph simply grins.

“Not out here I don’t.”

They take only the needed time to get food out of bear range before clambering into the tent, Joseph opting to switch on the battery powered lantern as Barclay tosses his clothes away. He let’s the cook guide his shirt off, revels in the way his eyes roam over him like he’s seeing the Sistine Chapel. He lowers his head, zig-zagging kisses down his neck and chest.

“Should I avoid these?” Barclay’s mouth hovers over the scar on his left side. They’re only a year old, look newer, and something eager and hopeful peers out from Joseph’s heart at Barclay’s consideration of them.

“No, they don’t hurt. They don’t really feel like much.”

Barclay places a kiss on each, continues his descent until he’s at Joseph’s hips, nosing just above his pubic hair with happy sighs.

“I really, really wanna fuck you.”

“Condoms are in my bag, the side pouch.”

“Okay if it’s here?” He lightly teases a thumb below Joseph’s dick.

“Shit, yes” he bucks his hips, “I repeat: Condoms are in my bag and if you don’t get them now I’ll just fuck myself instead.”

“Heh, someone gets demanding when he’s raring to go.” He kisses his hip before rolling and crawling to grab the condom. When he rolls it down, Joseph sees his dick is an unremarkable length but thick enough that he spreads his legs a little wider as Barclay crawls between them.

“Fuck” Barclay groans as he pushes in, Joseph hooking his legs around him as he slowly thrusts, “fuck, baby, that good?”

“Better than, jesus Barclay you should sell rides on this thing, you’d make a million.”

“Don’t want a million, just want you.”

Joseph blushes, moans when he finds opening his legs doesn’t diminish how stuffed he feels.

“You like being full, blue eyes?”

“Yes, AHhhhn, that’s it big guy, show me how you like it.” He pulls Barclay down for a kiss as his hips speed up, arches his back as strong arms wrap around him. It’s bliss, heaven in the summer heat, and he closes his eyes to better enjoy it, smiling as Barclay comes in for another kiss, growling until Joseph parts his lips and let’s his tongue slip between them.

Something scratches his back, probably just an odd angle of the sleeping bag. Then whatever it is catches between him and the ground and his whole world changes. The cock inside him thickens and lengthens, the skin pressed to his sprouts fur, and teeth his tongue brushes against are sharp.

“Shit!” He yelps at the same time Barclay freezes with a quiet, “fuck.”

“Explain. Now” Joseph orders as Barclay sits up slightly.

“I’m, uh, I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, one of them. But, uh, maybe that was obvious?”

“Not until this moment, no.” He suspects the same surprise that keeps him from pulling back is keeping Barclay from pulling out, a fact that is rapidly becoming an issue thanks to his body's enjoyment of the thought of being a monster's plaything.

“I’m, I’m so sorry Joseph, I never wanted you to find out this way, fuck, I shoulda known that bracelet was wearing out. I, uh, I guess this trip is a success? Now if anyone asks you can say you found bigfoot? But, uh, please don’t tell anyone it was me?”

He whacks his hands onto his face, “Barclay, I can’t do that. I’m not just looking for you for fun. I’m an undercover agent.”

“A what?” Barclay’s voice climbs an octave.

“An FBI agent!” He whips his hands away, “I’m supposed to find out what happened in a string of disappearances that tack to recent bigfoot sightings, and now I have to go and, and-” he freezes as Barclay starts growling, looming back over him, “and I should have waited until I was safe to tell you thaAAAAAAtAH, fuck, shit, ohlord, ohmygod.” He tears at the tent as Barclay lifts his hips off the ground and hammers into him, “fuck, oh fuck, OhohOHchris!” His feet kick out uselessly as what he thought was the base of Barclay’s cock pushes into him. The stretch is tremendous, the pleasure more so, and the confusion dwarfs them both.

“There” Barclay grits his teeth, “now you can’t go anywhere.”

“What the hell did you do?!” Joseph tries to scramble back only to find he’s stuck.

“Knotted you. Not my best plan but you said you were gonna tell someone!”

“Not right this second!” Joseph notices the grimace on Barclay’s face deepen, “does it hurt you?”

“Negative, just, just trying not to cum because that seems inappropriate right now.”

“How long are we stuck like this?” His curiosity is getting the better of him, just like always.

“Until I...cum enough for it to go down. Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I panicked okay?”

Joseph crosses his arms, “well, since we’re stuck like this, I think you have time to answer some questions.”

Barclay sighs, defeated, “I can’t tell you everything, not tonight. But what I can tell you is that the reason for that pattern is, uh, if a sighting goes to public, or is too easily tracked to a human disguise, the cryptid who got spotted has to change their appearance. Which makes it look like someone disappeared.”

He meets the cooks eyes, studies his face; he doesn’t seem to be lying. In fact, he almost seems relieved.

“It’s so easy to explain in some ways and it opens up so, so many hard things at the same time.”

“Thank you for telling me. Even if it’s the worst possible time and place. I, well, I still have questions but” Joseph sets a hand on the back of Barclay’s neck, “I also want to finish being with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” It comes out as a yip.

“I’m not leaving Kepler any time soon. And I’m just crazy about you Barclay, bigfoot or no.”

Cautiously, Barclay leans down to kiss him. Joseph runs his fingers along his back, finds the hair softer than anticipated.

“Guess now I can say I smelled how turned on you were when we got here, and how turned on you’ve been all night. Blowing you earlier was fucking incredible because you were just flooding my brain with all these signs that you wanted me. That’s, uh, that’s why the knot happened at all. My body’s found someone it thinks wants me to stay.”

“I do.” Joseph kisses him again, gasps when the cock inside him thrusts gently, “shit, that feels so strange. So perfect.”

Barclay seems to blush under his fur, “Can I go faster? Promise I’ll stop if it hurts too much, just, just wanna make you feel good.”

Claws daintily pet his sides as he nods. Then there’s a deeper growl and he can’t help but scream, rough and sharp, as Barclay fucks into him with shallow jerks of his hips, the swell of the knot managing to press on his dick while the rest of his cock hits spots inside him no partner ever bothered to try and find.

“That’s it baby, lemme hear you, wanna know just how much you like it, fuck, oh fuck, you like being full, blue eyes, then, fuck, lemme fill you. Fuck, Joseph”

“Ohgod” cum pulses into him and he whimpers, desperate for release of his own. Barclay notices, rolls them so Joseph is on top, all his FBI physical training going into maintaining the half-splits needed to straddle him.

“Got at least one more before I can pull out, and I wanna feel you cum.” The pad on one finger finds Joseph’s dick and rubs, “fuuuuuck, fucking-A I almost came again just from you tightening.”

“Barclay, please” he tangles his fingers into the fur of his chest, “please I’m so close.”

“Here, I’ve got an idea” He pulls Joseph so he’s hunched forward, kissing him messily as his claws dig into his hips to bounce him on his cock. Joseph moans, gives up on supporting himself and smiles when Barclay takes his weight without hesitation. He nestles his head under the cryptids chin, burying pleas in his fur as he speeds up. The angle and the force of Barclays movements mean his dick catches on thick fur and the warm belly beneath it, and as his grinds desperately he realizes he’s cumming. Then his cry of pleasure is drowned out by a howlgrowlpurr as Barclay empties into him, the pressure so intense he whimpers, unsure how much more his body will hold. Then the cock inside him slips free, cum spilling down his legs in it’s wake.

“Hrmph” Barclay rumbles, holding him close, “shoulda brought something to keep it in; make you spend all night with my cum in you so no one else gets any ideas.”

Joseph, sleep clinging to most of his brain, looks up, “wait, does that mean there are other bigfoots in the area who might?”

“Uhhhhhhhhh”

Joseph laughs to himself, shaking his head; tonight raises so many questions, dozens of things to investigate, and yet only one query matters to him right now.

“You really want to be my guy?”

A furry hand pets his face and Barclay murmurs, with a sweetness Joseph’s never before heard, “of course, baby.”

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter One

Marcy watched the sun slowly set on Newtopia as she’d done many an evening before. The sharp squawks of the gulls rang through the orange sky. She looked quite the forlorn figure standing by the hotel entrance, the gentle evening breeze that ruffled her cloak underscoring her solitude.

Her eyes remained fixated in the same direction her friend had taken off, maybe in some fleeting fool’s hope she’d change her mind and come sprinting back right into her arms.

Not a chance, Marbles.

Anne was long gone by now. Hopefully, she’d caught up with the Plantars’ fwagon before they reached the city gate. Judging by how quickly she booked it, the odds were in her favor. That girl didn’t make varsity back home for nothing.

Marcy only hoped those sweet, simple frogs knew just how lucky they were to have someone like Anne in their lives.

Sighing, her head lowered, she licked her wounds slowly.

Really? That easy, huh?  

Could Anne have made it any more obvious that she wanted to get out of there faster than she did? After they’d been apart for so long, and for a family of farmer frogs whom she’d known for what? Months?

No, don’t do that, she pulled herself up. It wasn’t right for her to be mad at the Plantars. This wasn’t their fault. Sprig and Polly were a barrel of fun at the slumber party, providing you disregarded their life-threatening encounter with the jelly-fish ghosts. Hop Pop, meanwhile, reminded her so much of her own grandpa it was uncanny. They were sweet, decent folk who’d taken Anne in and kept her safe all this time. It was just...

Her lips twisted into a bitter frown. How else was she supposed to feel but a little rejected?

However, was she really allowed to complain when holding her tongue was so normalised for her by this point? Marcy was a people pleaser, she understood that much about herself. Anytime Anne and Sasha got into an argument, she was there to keep the peace and everyone happy. So if Anna-Banana wanted to spend more time with her bumpkin frog family than her literal best friend since preschool, who was she to say no?

The story with her folks wasn’t all that different either. When they pressured her to keep up her studies, up to and including PSAT prep despite it being years away, she did as she was told like a good girl to make them proud, and they were. She hoped they were.

Goodness knows what they must be thinking right now—

Nope nope nope! Don’t go there, don’t go there.

She’d already lost too much sleep at night ruminating over the unspeakable pain she’d most surely put them through, it was the last thing she needed right now. She tried to do the logical thing and focus on the positives instead. That usually worked.

Anne wouldn’t be away for too long. They’d be together again as soon as Hop Pop’s contacts returned the Box to Wartwood and then it was off to the first of the three temples to get those gems recharged. Once that side quest was done and dusted, it was a simple matter of finding Sasha and making their way home.

Looking down, she caught herself wringing her hands.

Home.

That sure was the plan.

I mean... what else are we supposed to do?

“Always sad to see someone go, isn’t it?”

Marcy quickly wiped her eyes and glanced over her shoulder to greet the towering form of King Andrias.

Almost instantly, her mood perked up a notch. He was the one person whom she trusted, more than anyone else in all of Amphibia. Ever since she first landed outside the city walls, he took her under his wings and ensured her smooth transition into this brave new world.

Andrias was without doubt one of the kindest and wisest people Marcy could have ever hoped to meet. He was a true listener, and there were very few you could say that about, her parents included. How often had he been there to lend both an understanding ear and sage advice over games of flipwart?

Games she won more often than not, she wasn’t humble enough not to brag.

It was also he who sent Marcy on the daring missions that would eventually make her the hero of Newtopian society she was today. All because he recognised the value of her talents beyond passing an exam or helping her friends with their homework. No other 13-year-old had their own solid gold statue adorning a city bridge.

She owed this king a debt she couldn’t possibly repay, but one he was far too altruistic in nature to demand.

Then, why did he look so... solemn?

“Come along, Marcy. We need to talk.”

Maybe it was his serious tone of voice or those specific choice of words, but they made the hair on the back of Marcy’s neck stand on end. In an almost pavlovian manner, she corrected her posture and she held her chin erect.

Shoving whatever remaining conflicted thoughts aside, she silently followed Andrias back to the castle like a pilot fish tailing its great white. She was so puny next to this tremendous salamander, he could crush her with a single blow of his fist if he so chose. Not that a gentle, goofy giant like Andrias would even dream of doing such a thing.

So when he was dead serious, Marcy knew better to zip it, listen, and do as instructed.

Their quiet journey took them all the way back to the castle and into the royal throne room, a place she was all too familiar with by now. To enter this hallowed hall was a privilege bestowed only to a select few. For Marcy, it was where she had her morning debriefs over bugachinos.

Instead of going straight up to the throne for their pow wow as she anticipated, Andrias guided her down a small passageway to their left.

When they made their way up to the statue of what Marcy recognised as one of his ancestors, one of the great rulers of Amphibia, they came to a stop. Andrias then gazed down at her with the most serious look she’d seen him give anyone.

“Marcy, before we go any further,” he spoke sternly, “I need to be absolutely crystal clear about something. Okay?”

“Y-Yes, Andrias?” Marcy asked, shivering a little. She did not like being pulled out of her comfort zone, not like this.

“You’re about to enter the most secret place in all of Newtopia,” he continued, now down on one knee and his hand hovering over her shoulder, as close as they could be to eye level. “What I’m going to show you... I need you to swear you won’t share with another living soul. Not to Anne, not to Lady Olivia, no one. Do you understand? I can’t emphasise this enough, Marcy.”

“Of course,” she answered earnestly, trying to sound more confident. “You know you can always trust me, Andrias.”

A ghost of that warm, fatherly smile returned to his big blue countenance.

“Trust is a hard thing to come by, kid, and you’ve gone above and beyond to earn mine. It’s just that I’m not exaggerating here when I say this is a big one.”

Marcy simply placed one hand over his huge index, the other over her heart.

She smiled back at him sweetly, genuinely, “I promise.”

“Very well.”

Nodding in approval, Adrias rose. He reached out, pushing a luminous coral torch upwards.

It didn’t take an encyclopedic knowledge of ‘Creatures & Caverns’ for Marcy to predict that the statue was going to shift to the left next, revealing the spiralling staircase leading to Frog knows where. She probably should’ve been more surprised, but come on, it wasn’t exactly the first secret passage she’d come across in this castle lately. 

“Follow me,” was all Andrias said, before he pulled off the same coral torch, then proceeded down the stairs without another word. Marcy followed obediently, unable to ignore the unnerving chill that was now travelling up her spine.

Was it... always this cold around here?

Something about all this just felt so unsettling compared to last time. She couldn’t really explain why; she knew she was safe with Andrias and that he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally put her in harm’s way. It was a gut feeling and that sort of thing bugged a rational person like her to no end.

She tried to take her mind off it by hazarding her best guess as to precisely what he was going to show her. Either she did that or started getting all worked up dwelling on Anne again, which she’d rather not at the moment.

Another secret library, perhaps? Probably not, though she wouldn’t be at all disappointed if it was. Maybe there were forbidden texts about the dark arts hidden away down there. Magic users were incredibly rare in Amphibia these days—Marcy had already searched far and wide—so might this be her chance?

Oh, how the very idea of being able to cast actual magic excited her. Being Chief Ranger of the Knight Guard was a great honor and nothing to sneeze at, but to be a powerful sorceress, one who could communicate with spirits, raise the dead, shuffle the orifices on her enemy’s faces—

Okay, rein those snails in, Mar-Mar.

Her musings were interrupted by a strange noise emanating from below. At first she figured it was just her imagination, but the further they continued their descent, the clearer it became.

It sounded an awful lot like beeping. Yes, that was it. A progressively growing cacophony of bleeps, bloops and chirps, the kind she’d expect to hear from a high-tech supercomputer. Something absolutely alien in a world like Amphibia, she and her friends excluded.

Before Marcy could ask Andrias if he heard it too, she was distracted by the emergence of an orange glow chasing away the darkness below. It was a warm, almost heavenly light that conjured the mental image of a crackling fireplace on Christmas morning, protecting you from the snowstorm outside.

The chill in her spine had by now spread to the crown of her head and the tips of her toes. Her throat tightened up. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her forehead.

What the... Marcy could not say a word, only think.

There was something down there. Something greater than any library, however inconceivable that sounded. Whether it was good or bad was irrelevant to her at that moment.

It called her.

The duo finally reached the foot of the staircase and entered the sacred sanctum.

Marcy’s jaw dropped.

“Woah.”

There were no shelves of books. No ancient Amphibian artifacts. There weren’t even any walls that she could make out from where she stood. Just an apparently endless sea of darkness encompassing a large round platform from which both the enticing glow and the lowkey din of beeps originated.

Marcy resumed taking Andrias’ lead as they stepped out onto the platform, the clink-clank of their boots confirming her assumption it was made of metal. The whole thing appeared more at home on an alien spaceship than in the dungeons of a castle.

Upon arriving at its centre, Andrias knelt down on both knees and, much to Marcy’s curiosity, removed his crown and set it down on the floor. She took the hint by following suit.

Any lingering fears melted away the more she basked herself in the radiance. It was as if the beams were steadily pouring into her body, clearing up her headspace, reducing any tension in her body. She recalled a favored memory from when she was five-years-old, when she and Anne spent a whole summer afternoon by the beach. How the tides would come in and out without fail, washing away the ruins of their sandcastles, the seaweed, one of Anne’s sandles and the teeny tiny baby seahorse they rescued.

Like a nice blank canvas.

Was this a private place of worship? Not according to her expansive studies of Amphibian anthropology. Or maybe it was a place for Andrias to meditate away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Seemed a skosh excessive if that was the case.

“Truly captivating, I know.”

Andrais’ baritone brought Marcy back down to earth. She straightened up and tried to refocus herself. They were down here for an important reason, at least she believed they were.

“One can spend hours down here,” Andrias boomed ominously. “Adrift in their own thoughts and... dreams.” The light cast his face in a rather unnerving shadow as he stared ahead into the void. “But I’m sure you know I haven’t brought you here to show off my retreat from the world.” He took a long, deep breath, like he was mentally steeling himself for what he said next, “As much as it pains me to say it, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Marcy.”

He produced from his sleeve what appeared at first glance to be two giant pieces of parchment and unfolded them neatly on the metal surface. A closer inspection told Marcy they were in fact pages torn from an exceptionally large book. Judging not only by the size, but the font and format as well, she easily pieced together its origin.

“Are these...?”

“From the book we “found” in the wing?” Andrias chuckled mirthlessly. “Yes. Still kinda surprised you didn’t pick up there were pages missing, but that's not important right now. Please, read.”

The platform provided ideal reading light. Marcy’s ability to read at a 12th Grade level meant she cruised through the text and finished within minutes.

She read it once, then twice. A third and fourth time just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

Her bottom began to tremble.

No... Nononono, this... this can’t be right. I-It’s impossible! How in the world can it...?!

No amount of curative rays could unfreeze the blood in her veins. The metaphorical pistons in her brain were firing on full cylinders in a vain attempt to digest this earth-shattering information. For a split second, she thought she was going to pass out.

Desperate, she turned to the stone-faced Andrias to plead for some kind of answer, but she found no words with which to speak. All the personal growth and development that made her Newtopia’s champion had been stripped of her and she was reduced to nothing more than a helpless lost toddler.

A comforting set of giant digits placed themselves under her chin, the same way a father would do for his daughter.

“All this time, I’ve been testing you,” Andrias told her, his voice full of pride. “The games of flipwart, the missions, the “secret library”, even the barbari-ant colony I had lured to the city. I was watching you, studying your every action. With each challenge I issued, you excelled my expectations. You’re an exceptionally talented human being, Marcy, truly worthy of the name ‘Wu’.”

Even if these words were meant to serve as comfort or encouragement, they had only the opposite effect for Marcy. Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes.

She mustered only a pitiful whimper, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he promised, “you will soon enough. He’s so excited to meet you.”

“... He?”

Lifting his mighty hand in the air, he thrusted it into the nothingness facing them. Marcy instinctively followed its direction.

“Marcy Wu,” Andrias’ thundering voice resonated throughout the sanctuary, “allow me to introduce you... to my master.”

No sooner had he finished, the whole world started to tremble at Marcy’s knees, throwing her off her balance. A rumbling, mechanical ROAR struck her ears so loud she had to cover them to protect the drums from rupture. Yet despite this sensory assault, she somehow forced her eyes to stay wide open. She needed to face whatever was coming.

Marcy gazed into the abyss.

And the abyss gazed back with all thirteen of its eyes.

Terror. Pure mounting terror overwhelmed every cell of her being. Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. If her mouth stretched any wider, her jaw risked snapping clean off its hinges.

Everything around her faded into black. Andrias, the platform and its glow, the beeping, all vanished into the ether. All now that existed were herself and those colossal demonic eyes plucked from the deepest recesses of her nightmares, their leer burrowing into her very soul.

Marcy wanted to scream until she coughed up her lungs. Moreso, she just wanted to wake up. This was all a dream, it had to be. A lucid dream that had gone on for far too long. She and her friends weren’t in another dimension inhabited by talking frogs, such a notion was a scientific absurdity. She sure as heck wasn’t a ranger in some anthropomorphic newt army.

Any moment now, her wizard kitty alarm would ring and she’d wake up in her soft, cozy bed. Dad would have left for work by now, planting a goodbye kiss on her sleeping forehead as he did every morning since she was little. Mom would be already making her her favorite congee rice and youtiao for breakfast. Then she would begin the process of packing up her room for the big move to Oregon like a good girl.

Yes, she would even happily do that. Anything to bring an end to this ordeal!

Shhhh

Her train of thought screeched to a sudden halt.

Marcy

It’s gonna be okay

And just like that, as if those were the five magic words required, everything was fine again. No more panic, no more existential terror. Her heart rate lowered to a steady, non-life threatening level.

The tide had risen up and washed Marcy’s mind clean.

Like a nice blank canvas.

What quickly followed was an epiphany of sorts.

There was nothing for her to fear. Once she accepted that fact, the warm sensation from before returned greater than ever, engulfing her in what could only be described as a spiritual hug. She could feel the pair of hands, tender as her own mother’s, caressing her face and flicking away her tears. They even ruffled her raven hair in the same playful manner.

Come to me, daughter of Wu

Let me get a good look at you

Marcy obeyed. Getting down on all fours, she crawled across the nonexistent ground—the laws of physics evidently had no place here—until her face and the eyes’ chief pupil were within inches of each other.

Fresh tears, now ones of ecstasy, trickled down her cheeks and evaporated in the pulsating heat.

“You’re beautiful.”

I know

We’ve gotta lot to talk about, Marcy

And I have a feeling...

You and I are gonna become the best of friends

[davidmann95]

So RWBY/Justice League is apparently a crossover that's actually going to happen. Of the little we know right now, how do you think that's going to pan out?

Anonymous said: Those questions about Superman and Batman in RWBY seem prescient, because I'm hearing that an official crossover is in the works

Anonymous said: Um, so there's a legit Justice League/RWBY crossover coming

Anonymous said: So, that official DC/RWBY crossover, huh?

Anonymous said: So, how about that DC/RWBY cross, eh?

Anonymous said: No more speculating how Superman would fit into RWBY when DC themselves are providing their own answer XD

The immediate thing that leaps out beyond the Kingdom Hearts* level of utterly out of nowhere berserk this premise is: while the RWBY comic had a couple minor sequel hooks, and I don’t know how it did in its original digital chapters or in trade, as a monthly periodical it was selling poorly enough that DC didn’t bother to print its last physical issue after the return from the Coronavirus shutdown, and while I thought it was great a lot of fans complained about its art and characterization throughout. I hoped for that sequel, sure, but I wasn’t expecting the book to be regarded internally as anything but a sales failure, nevermind not only continuing it but tripling down in the most extreme and bizarrely specific way possible that’s neither intuitive (unless you have special interests like me) nor surface-level ridiculous enough like Batman/Elmer Fudd that people will buy it just to see how it works. I don’t understand why this comic is happening when no one but me wanted this.

(* The Kingdom Hearts comparison is apt because they were similarly close to the top of things I’d love to see cross over with the DCU that would obviously never, ever happen because that’s too precise and random a combination of my interests. Even if this is legally possible where that isn’t, that would still be conceptually simpler.)

I was asked a couple times in the past about how Superman or Batman could make sense in RWBY’s setting, and it turns out I was closer with the latter than the former - that rather than a dimension-hopping traditional crossover, this is reverse-engineering what the assorted members of the League would look like if they had always been part of Remnant ala JLA/Planetary, some of the old DC/Marvel crossovers, or the more recent Batman/The Shadow. Which actually fits really well with the series regularly evoking assorted fairy tales and mythologies with their characters; this bunch is just one more set to be added. Though that raises several more thoughts and questions:

* The solicit refers to them as Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, and Diana Prince, but will they actually be referred to as such in the story, and will people comment on them not fitting with the color-based naming conventions of that world? Or will they be renamed and evoke their sources purely through iconography, ala Ruby not literally being Little Red Riding Hood?

* How much will the origins of the assorted characters be changed? Batman, Cyborg, and Aquaman would all make perfect sense within the ‘rules’ of the setting with few major alterations, but will Superman still be from Krypton and Green Lantern a space ranger, or will they simply be ordinary humans with thematically reminiscent backstories and Semblances/weapons that evoke the classic powers? I think the latter could work, but I imagine the former is more likely (even if Bennett might keep it vague on some of the details to preserve the aura of mystique and avoid changing the shape of the world too radically) simply because everyone’s surely aware that fans would complain about being ‘ripped off’ for getting the characters ‘in name only’ otherwise.

* Speaking of changes to fit the setting, between being a Faunus and the apparent low-tech traditional armor look of his suit, is Bruce Wayne in here not operating from a position of wealth? You’d just think as a given the Wayne family would be easily plopped in as business rivals to the Schnees and Alfred would be on a first name basis with Klein, but it seems Bennett might have something very different in mind. Also, little disappointing he simply has a katana rather than those collapsible batarangs that turn into swords that Ellis always gave him which would fit perfectly here. And, as so many have already asked: how miserable is he every second of every day in a world where everything is also a gun. At least this isn’t a universe where anyone’s gonna think he’s irresponsible for training teenage sidekicks.

* And if we’re going into individual characters: RWBY Barry Allen is adorable, what the hell. He just looks so dopey and hapless, I sure hope he doesn’t ever have to die to stop the Anti-Monitor. We’re definitely getting a meeting with Harriet that retcons in that he’s the other person with a speed Semblance she mentioned running into, and if he’s tapping into the Speed Force then the jokes that that’s what Harriet does are probably gonna become at least a little bit canon.

* Are the Themyscirans magic, given all magic has a very important common root in this world?

* I don’t think there’s a dud redesign in the bunch? These are all really inspired in their own ways, which is good because unlikely as it seems this is I believe the first time we’ve really gotten any sort of official interpretation of “here’s what the DCU would look like as a Shonen”. Go ahead and say the hell with it and make it Earth 28, I’ve thought before making that an anime Earth would fit with the map.

(By Ag_Nonsuch)

* Bunch of obvious ways these characters can play off of each other: Ruby is paralleled with Wonder Woman on the cover, and I’m curious how Bennett will play that, but she makes most sense next to Flash, a super-fast fan made good, or Superman, a character she so deeply if unintentionally evokes on so many levels I felt I had to make clear when describing her that I didn’t solely appreciate her as a psuedo-Superman analogue. Weiss makes sense up against Batman either as a wealthy heir or a Faunus who’s likely faced his share of pain from the Schees who either way are cold perfectionists defined by inner pain stemming from their families, or Wonder Woman/Aquaman as fellow ‘royalty’. Yang is paralleled with Superman on the cover and that makes sense with the two country bruisers with issues regarding their lost parents, though she’d also make sense with Aquaman as the ‘temperamental’ members a lot of the time of their respective teams, or Cyborg as they both deal with their relationships with their bodies after requiring prosthesis. And Blake pretty much has her pick: like Superman she uses an article of clothing to ‘pass’ and shares the commitment to justice, she and Batman are dark children of privilege (or not in this case, though in this world they’re both Faunus), she and Wonder Woman both left the island homes where their people were safe to try and make the rest of the world better, she and Aquaman are both Faunus royalty, and Green Lantern is about overcoming great fear and in Jessica Cruz’s case specifically about the guilt of running away.

* Will this be entirely flashbacks to the pre-series/Beacon years, or will those be flashbacks set from a ‘present’, and if so when? What happened between the siege of Haven and the train setting off for Argus is the most loosely-defined period in the story and is right on the heels of the end of the original RWBY mini, so I’d imagine it fitting here. And given they apparently join together “to take on a force unlike anything they've seen before” rather than purely the character work of that previous book, what might that be?

* Hey, superhero comics/superpowers as an idea already exist in this universe, will that come up?

* If we can get one single scene in this and it’s going with a “yes they’re still aliens and magic and whatnot” premise I want Clark, who hasn’t thought of being Superman yet and therefore is still at least somewhat hiding his powers, being wracked with guilt over not pursuing becoming a Huntsman and therefore not being there at the Fall of Beacon. Which is a ridiculous thing to take the blame for, but of course he would, he’s Clark, culminating in trying to apologize to JNR for Pyrrha dying he feels in part because he was a coward (when they don’t even have the faintest concept for why he would think he should have been there or could have done anything).

* Once all’s said and done, how is their presence in the world justified as not being a factor in the series proper? It’s simple if they’re ‘ordinary’ analogues who can go off to quietly have adventures elsewhere, but if not then some of them either have to be shuffled off stage or presumably left with their stories incomplete, with a little afterward of “and they went on to be the greatest heroes of all...later, after the scope of team RWBY’s main adventures so that we never have to directly address them again” to avoid them becoming unavoidable major factors in the war against Salem.

In the end, will it be DC’s best comic? No, though I imagine one of their better ones this year. Will it be among the ones I look forward to most each month? Right up there with Yang and Reis’s Batman/Superman baby, this is a miracle freak of fate and I’m gonna appreciate the universe bending over backwards to make entertainment for me and me alone while it lasts. Given I finally checked out RWBY in the first place because I was curious about Bennett’s original comic, this is a heck of a full-circle moment.

[sou-ver-2-0]

Quick question: When did Sou realize that Kanna had taken the sacrifice card?

This is a quick question, but I wanted to get my facts and headcanons absolutely right so I had to double-check the script! 

It’s clear to me that Shin knew right at the start of the Second Main Game that Kanna had the Sacrifice Card. He starts calling for Kanna to be a Candidate immediately after a Yabusame nominates him to be a Candidate.

I think that Shin figured it out as soon as Kanna made the trade, right before the game began.

This is veering into headcanon territory, but because Shin is absolutely certain upfront that Kanna has the Sacrifice Card, I actually assumed that he saw her take the Card on his laptop! Before the Main Game begins, Shin mutters in front of Sara that he wants to try hacking the role card data, so it’s not unthinkable to me that Shin could have seen everyone’s cards! 

Here’s what Shin says when Sara speaks to him in the Winner’s Room. (This is before the final card trade.)

SARA: S-Sou...

SOU: ..........

SARA: Please... / Save... us...

The words came out unconsciously. / There's nothing more I can do on my own power. / If anyone can do something... it's Sou.

SOU: I don't... have enough time... / I have Ranger's chip right here! If I had just another hour... urghh...

SARA: (Sou...)

SOU: All I might do now... is hack the role card data...

SARA: (Huh...?)

If Shin had successfully hacked into the role card data, he might have been able to delete the Sacrifice Card. That would have been the best option possible. I can imagine Shin being more tempted to try that option than to make another quick token trade. Certainly based on his words in the script, even before Kanna took the Card for herself, I think that’s what Shin’s primary goal was! After Sara asked him for help, I think...he was trying to do the right thing by her! (I realize this is self-indulgent, but I think that’s a reasonable guess!)

This is all speculation, but I imagine that Shin figured out how to view everyone’s cards, but he didn’t figure out how to change them.

I can imagine Shin trying frantically to delete the Sacrifice Card if he sees Kanna take it for herself, but he didn’t have enough time, and he wasn’t quick enough to trade it to anyone else using his tokens. Notably, trading the Card to another person instead of simply deleting it would have been like murder, so the temptation to try deleting it instead is very high!

If Shin didn’t see the Cards on his laptop, then that means he simply must have felt extremely confident that Kanna made that final trade. 

Another detail I loved from checking the script is that Shin is the first person to speak up when the Second Main Game begins, and the first thing he does after encouraging people to speak is to comfort Kanna.

SARA: (It's starting again... This horrifying game...)

NAO: ...

Reko Lives

REKO: ..........

Alice Lives

ALICE: ..........

SOU: ...Keeping quiet's only making time pass, guys. / Let's at least decide our fate by our own hand, okay?

KANNA: Aah... sniff...

SOU: It's okay. We've walked this road before, haven't we?

Shin reassures Kanna right away that “It’s okay.” To me...that sounds like he’s already resolved to save her, no matter the cost. It’s okay, Kanna, I’ve got you. 

Then he quickly sets to work pretending to have the Sacrifice himself and painting Kanna in the worst light possible, like an absolute clown.