#i say things like whatever happens outside of canon stays in its own thing......unfortunately i love interactions with friends' ocs too muc

[304wv66]

zoinks, the boys are trespassinggggg 😱

art trade with @lattedraws!

[alltimefail-sims]

LORE TIDBIT TIME WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Did you know Vlad was apart of the settler colony who mysterious disappeared? This is obviously a nod to the Roanoke colony which I think is sooo cool. What do you think happened to Vlad's colony? I like to think Vlad was turned or became a vampire and whipped them out.

HELL YEAH LORE TIDBIT ABOUT VLADDY DADDY!!! 😏

I'm going to treat this as a "deep dive" into Vlad and Forgotten Hollow, so I'll be adding it to my Deep Dive Series tag. Unsurprising to literally everyone, but this is gonna be a long one.

So… let’s get into it! ↓

Going into this I will admit that I actually did know this about Vlad!! I've been wanting to talk about it for forever but have never gotten around to it haha. 🤭 I'm a bit of a history nerd and I love a good spooky story/conspiracy, so naturally the Roanoke Colony was one of my obsessions when I was around 11 or 12 years old.

I think it's an interesting tie in from the sims team, I'd even say it's a bit meta because I feel like the game normally sticks to making references toward itself and its own canon characters/events while generally staying away from anything that would be too direct of a reference to "our world." Personally though I wish they broke the fourth wall more! I like easter eggs or hidden details that make it easier to imagine the characters existing not in their isolated, imaginary worlds, but in ours instead.

It's interesting to think about why the sims team might have made this connection - was it just a cheeky, unserious little wink to a well-known unsolved mystery, or was it done for the purposes of creating implications and expanded lore regarding Vlad and Forgotten Hollow (a case of them showing us instead of telling us). There are so many theories archaeologists and historians alike have had about the lost colony of Roanoke over the years: some believe the Roanoke colonists could have all died by disease or famine, some believe they could have been victims of a deadly storm, some believe they were attacked by neighboring tribes or by Spanish soldiers. Nowadays there are scholars who will argue that no tragedy befell the settlers at all and that they simply relocated (that would be why they left "Croatoan" behind - there was a nearby location referred to as Croatoan Island, now modern-day Hatters Island).

With that in mind, along with Vlad's own refusal to recall the details of this event, it's safe to assume that the sims team isn't referring to the happier Roanoke theories...the 25 colonists of Forgotten Hollow likely faced an unfortunate end.

Your theory of Vlad being turned and thus wiping out the colony (I'm guessing due to new-turn bloodlust) is sooooo compelling, the implications of that scenario are delicious and I personally never thought of it from that angle! My theory is only a little different: I agree that Vlad was turned on the day that the colonists "disappeared" (whatever that implies), but I have always played Vlad's story not as if he was turned and then killed everyone after, but rather that the thing that turned him successfully killed the other colonists but accidentally turned Vlad. It's a really long story that I play around with for fun in my brain but the short-ish version is: Vlad awoke outside - cold, alert, sweaty, dirty and covered in his own blood - but somehow alive, which he was thankful for. His new immortal condition is still unbeknownst to him at this point, but he felt an ache like never before, so deep in his bones it was excruciatingly painful, but his senses were heightened tenfold. He didn't remember much, just that the colony had been under attack the night before. His relief to be alive rapidly melted into abject horror as he found everyone else (friends, neighbors, family, children) dead. He realized soon enough what had happened to him and stayed in Forgotten Hollow where he would be memorialized as its "founder." He spent his days hellbent on retaliation and retribution, but was also steadfast in continuing the work that was began there before the attack. Eventually he does get to face off with the vampire who attacked him and his people, killing it and rising to power in the vampire world. He keeps the events close to his chest because they were traumatizing and cause him sadness, and he's worked diligently to remove himself from his humanity/human memories and from emotions in general (thus how he has become the person we see today). I always thought if he killed the colonists himself the other vampires in his circle - at least his closest confidantes - would know (as he's got quite the massive ego), but they don't seem to have knowledge of this event and they never mention it. I've thought that it could be possible that sharing the memories of this event would make Vlad feel weak, and he's not one to boast in his weakness. He'd much rather rewrite history in a way that is beneficial to his image; dragging up emotions about dead people would not bring them back to life, and by burying this history of a massacre in Forgotten Hollow he is also creating some mystery around himself and making it easier to play the role of a great-great-great-great grandson (or whatever he's pretending to be, relationship-wise) to the original founder.

But that's just how I play with Vlad! 🤷 I could be way off-base lmao!

Regardless of what happened, we know Vlad is the sole survivor of this event and he is scarred by it, impacted so deeply that he only ever vaguely alludes to it with no clear explanation. Whether he killed the colonists himself or just witnessed their death, the sims team will probably never give us concrete answers (and frankly, that's probably for the best considering their track record). But the clever connection of the LOST colony and FORGOTTEN Hollow are clear as day and I just think that is freaking cool! The occult lore in TS4, especially regarding Vlad and Forgotten Hollow, make interesting framework for storytellers and lore-lovers alike! Vlad is one of those characters who has sooooo many interpretations, and I eat up each and every one!

Okay, I think that's all I've got for now! Sorry about my word vomit! Somewhat related: here's an article I recently read on Roanoke that talks about the archaeological finds which have changed some of the discussions surrounding whether the colonists survived or not! I found it pretty interesting and you might as well!

[haztory]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

--erwin smith x reader; fluff, domestic, not canon compliant farmer erwin, there’s a mentioning of injuries but not enough to be considered graphic! (erwin lives!)

a.n: this is my attempt at swinging back into the ways of writing after a long, long, long hiatus! i wrote this in thirty minutes as just an exercise, but felt it was cohesive enough to post. its vague, abstract, and definitely not a magnum opus, but its something. this is more of an erwin story than an x reader one, but i hope you all enjoy regardless!

this was titled after a song on the pride and prejudice ost of the same name. highly recommend you give it a listen

anything for my sweet boy erwin ♡

(w.c: 1686)

At the initial prospect of it, retirement was somewhat akin to shooting oneself in the foot for a man like Erwin. It was condescending, debilitating, almost an insult were he any lesser than a reasonable man.

The word was floated around numerous times after the loss of his arm, spoken with a gentleness and, dare he say, a trepidation they believed must be adopted when speaking to the freshly injured man. For fear of upsetting him or for fear of making the situation real, he’s not quite sure. It was mentioned, nonetheless. In passing, directly, through implication; Everyone seemed to think that Erwin was less of a man and more of a liability because of his lost arm, and that retiring from the Scout Regiment would be the best option for everyone. 

That was something he took offense to. 

His physical abilities may be considerably limited now, yes, but he still holds inherent value to the cause he’s dedicated his life to. Still has goals, still has dreams, still has ideas that must be discussed and implemented if the fate of humanity is to even think about surviving beyond the next few days. 

Erwin still had some fight in him, and he still had things to offer. Things that retirement would take away from him.

The word settled like a thick tar on his tongue and left a bitter aftertaste, one he couldn’t bear to swallow down. So he didn’t. He spit the word back out, removing it from his mouth and sternly asking others to rid themselves of it too. They followed his order, albeit begrudgingly, but the conversation ended then and there. Not permanently, unfortunately. No amount of power, Erwin imagines, could ever snuff out the growing fear his missing appendage has instilled in his soldiers. That even the most untouchable, unshakeable of leaders could be tainted by this cruel world. 

He knows it's on everyone's mind, no matter how many times he can try to assuage the fears, for if the exchanged uneasy glances between his eccentric Section Commander and trusted Captain were anything to go by, then the fear his cadets must feel must be traumatizing. The looks they pass to one another when they think he isn’t looking.

Erwin lost an arm, not his intuition. It seems he’s the only one who knows that. 

But they let it go. They all do, for now at least. They reluctantly put a pin at his assertion that he would continue his work, regardless of injury, and quickly filed this topic as one they would return to at a later date. Appease him now to make him more receptive to the future. They let him continue to work himself dry, let him continue with physical missions like he wasn’t missing a trusted appendage, and entertained his reckless and drastic thoughts to a certain extent.

When he lands himself back in the infirmary, this time with a serious rupture to the side of his stomach from flying debris, and a number of broken bones that will surely cause permanent hindrance to his mobility, the topic is brought back up again. Only this time, it’s non-negotiable. His near death was the final straw in forcing Erwin Smith into retirement. 

                                                              ∵

He hates it.

Hates how quiet his home is, hates how unexciting his routine is, hates not being able to know.

But he finds that making coffee is still manageable with one arm. The sun still shines as brightly inside the walls as it does outside. The birds still chirp excitedly in the morning and the wind still blows gently in the afternoon. 

He hates retirement, but it’s manageable. 

It gets better after a while, the presence of a neighbor making his nights substantially more interesting with the dinner she brings over. 

                                                             ∵

The house is quiet once again, only the distant chirps of the birds filling the empty space. It's familiar, but he finds it unsettling this time around. A feeling of anticipation creeping into his stomach, waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment.

It doesn’t happen. 

With a slight furrow in his brow and after a long analyzing gaze outside the window above the kitchen sink, Erwin makes his way towards the front door, granting him access to the front porch of the house. Settled away from the city, the land his house is built on stretches for miles; Fields of green spread out before him and littered with tall, blooming and swaying trees. The chickens squawk and run around before him and the horses huff their snorts of boredom. There’s activity in the Smith residence, but it’s not the kind he’s looking for. 

There’s something missing. 

Bringing his left arm up to his mouth, he curls his fingers below his tongue, blowing out a loud and sharp whistle that has all movement still for a brief moment on his farm. All attention piqued on him, the animals and the trees alike waited for Erwin’s response. 

They wait, and they wait, and they wait. But still, nothing.

The crease between Erwin’s brows dips further. A brief flash of worry settles in his shoulders. He pulls his fingers into his mouth again, blowing a whistle that lasts for a few seconds longer this time. His eyes stay trained on the hill before him, hoping to see something. Anything.

He waits a minute before the restlessness takes over and he takes his steps down the stairs of the porch, his boots crunching against the crisp grass still wet from the morning dew. He approaches the top of the hill, the one that lays level with the foundation of his house, before surveying the land further below. He looks left and right, then left again and then right again, eyes peeled for that familiar flash of grey.

Where in the world could that damn dog have gone?

The dog is usually fast enough to return before he even needs to whistle a second time, never straying too far from the property for her to not hear Erwin’s call. But this time is different. She’s gone and isn’t returning to him and that can only mean one thing.

Trouble.

He begins his trek down the hill, the morning still early enough to not have him sweating on this irregular stroll of his, but he can feel the temperature slowly rising through the air. The wind serves as his only semblance of comfort as it continues its mission of cooling the exposed skin of his forearm and neck. 

He must be walking for at least five minutes before he sees it. The scraggly grey hair of a dog's bottom, her top half hidden behind a large oak tree but her tail wagging ferociously. A small smile graces Erwin’s face subconsciously, the slowly building apprehension dissipating in an instant at seeing the vivacious mutt. 

Or at least at seeing her bottom half. 

He approaches the tree slowly, the noises of enjoyment and panting from the dog becoming louder as he draws nearer. But there’s another sound too that fills the air. A sound much sweeter and delicate, one that he’s heard a thousand times over the years,  and yet, Erwin swears it's one he can never get tired of. 

It’s a breath of fresh air, an instant drug in his veins, and the reason behind the swelling of his heart. His smile grows wider than he could have possibly imagined.

He gets close enough and the dog finally notices him, bounding over to him in an instant with a greeting bark and a perk in her step. He pats her head, a silent gratefulness at having found her finally and understanding why she refused to meet his calls. Why she continued to stay at the spot behind the oak tree a five minute walk away from her home.

He finally gets near the tree, peering around its large trunk to the spot the dog previously occupied and can’t help but laugh in surprise. 

Sitting in the space between the bulging roots are his two girls, one aged six and the other three, huddled close together as they coo and giggle over an object resting between the two’s feet. Their backs are turned towards their father, too preoccupied with whatever was settled between them to even notice the beloved dog’s disappearance from her original spot and its replacement with their father. 

His years of training to fight titans kicks in, his steps as quiet as can be as he gets closer to the girls to get a look at what they were currently fawning over. 

A baby bird. Brown in color and more than comfortable between the two children.

“What are you two doing?”

His voice sends a jolt of shock through them, the two girls jumping in the air at the sudden disruption and whipping their faces around to look at the intruder. The fear quickly melts off of their round faces when they realize who it is. 

“Daddy!” The two girls yell unanimously, unbridled joy filtering their features and Erwin briefly sees the beautiful face of their mother in them. The youngest in particular. 

The eldest managed to take most of his features, much to his wife’s pleasure, retaining his aquiline nose, the vibrant blue of his eyes, and his own oval face shape, but her hair is a delightful mix between his and his wife’s. And while she looks the most like him, she acts the most like her mother; Joyous and giggly and a passionate ball of rays. 

Now, his youngest, while looking almost entirely like a carbon copy of her mother, was in fact a replica of his own personality. Quiet, curious, diplomatic. A balance to her impulsive sister, a shining grey crater of peace in the sky.

His sun and moon. His reasons for orbit. The loves of his life. 

                                                             ∵

And as he walks his two girls back across the field to their home, their mother’s figure on the horizon and an excited chatter between them as they recount the tales of their morning in helping the baby bird, a single thought enters Erwin’s mind. 

Retirement isn’t so bad. 

[amarimaryllis]

I Liked You So Much, We Lost It (Iwaizumi x Reader)

Pairing: Iwaizumi/Reader

Prompt/Summary: You and Iwaizumi are so in love with each other that the only way the universe can separate you both is to put 8,577 kilometers worth of land and sea between the two of you (spoiler: the universe actually does put 8,577 kilometers worth of land and sea between the two of you).

Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Lots of timeskips, Inspired by Ysabelle’s “I Liked You So Much, We Lost It”, Sequel to “I Like You So Much, You’ll Know It” but can be read as a standalone fic

Warnings: Angst, Very Slight Manga Spoilers, Slight Canon Divergence (you won’t even notice it if you don’t read into it so let’s shhhh, I mean this entire fanfic is a canon divergence but let’s not 😌)

Almost everyone in Aoba Johsai knew that you and Iwaizumi were together. So many people had invested themselves in the friends to lovers situation that you guys had that it was impossible for them to not find out that you guys were finally together. Nearly three years of you guys just tip-toeing around each other and it finally paid off.

You guys were practically inseparable since the day that Iwaizumi brought you to the convenience store to shelter yourselves from the rain. If one was to see either of you, it was sure that the other would come around eventually. You guys were so deeply in love with each other that nothing could separate you. However, months had passed, and in a few weeks, it would be time for you all to graduate. You never really knew what Iwaizumi’s plans were after Seijoh. You just trusted that everything would fall into place as it always did.

“Hajime, why are you avoiding my gaze?” You pout from the floor of his bedroom, sitting with your legs crossed as you basked in the warmth that his hoodie brought.

Iwaizumi looks up from his work to give you a small smile. “You look too cute in my jacket.”

“And?” You blush slightly, but you don’t let him fully change the topic.

“It’s distracting, and I have this final project to finish.” Iwaizumi turns to look back at the paper.

“Project? Didn’t we finish them all last week?” You raise a brow, trying to take a look at the paper before Iwaizumi hastily pulls it away from your view. “Hey, Hajime… What is that?”

“It’s nothing.” Iwaizumi’s body is tense, avoiding your gaze as he fiddles with the pen.

“Okay.” You can feel your heart beating quicker. Worry filled your veins, but you try to tell yourself that you’re probably just overreacting. “I trust you.”

Iwaizumi sighs before he stands up and goes to your side. He plops behind you, pulling you in between his legs before he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. “I’m gonna miss this.”

You smile at his touch, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that he emits before his words sink. “You’re talking as if I’m gonna be leaving.”

You giggle lightly before you turn around and wrap your arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, pressing your forehead onto his. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

Iwaizumi looks conflicted as he stares into your eyes, his grip on your waist getting tighter with each passing second. You can see his eyes swirl with a million different things, and it scares you. What was it that had him acting like this?

“Hajime—“

Iwaizumi cuts you off with a kiss.

It’s desperate. The way his lips move against yours, searching for something, longing for something. His lips were soft against yours, but the emotions you could feel swirling inside him made his movements hasty and thoughtless. It was like he was trying to forget something, erasing whatever it was that ate him up on the inside as he deepened the kiss.

He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe before he’s hoisting you up and dropping you on his bed, hovering on top of you as he gazes into your eyes.

His eyes were teary, and this prompts you to speak. “Hajime what’s wrong?”

Iwaizumi drops to your side on the bed before he pulls you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?” The serious tone laced in Iwaizumi’s words makes your heart beat quicker, the fear of something—you didn’t know what exactly made you feel afraid at that moment—settling itself deep into your chest. “Hajime, what’s going on?”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me.” Iwaizumi whispers, his arms wrapping tighter around you as if he was afraid that you were going to disappear. “Please.”

“I promise.” You grab Iwaizumi’s cheeks with your hand before you press a quick peck on his lips. “Now tell me what’s going on. You seem so stressed lately, and it’s kind of making me worried.”

“I’m…” Iwaizumi’s voice is strained as if the words stuck in his throat were laced with thorns that wound him as he struggles to let it out. “I’m gonna study Sports Sciences.”

You giggle lightly. “Why are you worried? You’re gonna do great—“

“In California.” Iwaizumi whispers, but you hear it nonetheless.

It doesn’t sink in. You don’t want it to. As the anchors of that statement plunge deeper into the ocean of your system, the currents that try to keep you alive raise themselves to fight against the weight of the anchors. It’s futile, the waves of emotions, thoughts rage until they’re slowly drowning you in the uncertainty of your future. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” Iwaizumi sits up, which in turn makes you sit up as well. “No. I’m just… I don’t want to lose you just because I’m leaving.”

“Then why are you so stressed?” You could feel your eyes well up with relief, but no matter how much you look on the bright side, there’s still that gnawing feeling in your stomach. “You’re not losing me unless you break up with me, idiot.”

“Hey, don’t cry.” Iwaizumi pouts lightly at you, making you laugh at the way he looked. He smiles, his heart swelling as he sees you laugh. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? I’m gonna be all the way in California. The timezones won’t match. I’ll be busy on some days. I won’t be here to hug you or kiss you. Which is pretty damn unfortunate cause I really like kissing you—“

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Iwaizumi stops when he hears you call his name while grabbing his cheeks.

“Yes, love?” Iwaizumi responds immediately. It was as if months of being with you had trained him to do so when you called out his full name.

“I love you, and kilometers of land and sea isn’t gonna change that.” You smile before pressing a kiss on his lips. “Stop worrying.”

“Do that again.” Iwaizumi says as he eyes your lips.

“Do what?” You decide to tease him, acting as if you didn’t know that he wanted another kiss.

“Y/N.” He groans as he glares at you playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“But I don’t.” You have a shit-eating grin on your face.

“Fine, be like that.” Iwaizumi huffs before he pulls you for another kiss.

You can feel him smile against your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

That was 10 months ago. Iwaizumi left in July, making it a total of six months that you haven’t seen him in person. The first month went off without a hitch. Video chats every day, messages shared regardless of the other’s time zone, and other methods of communication were used just so you guys felt like you were still there with each other in person. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that well.

If you were to describe what happened, you would say that you could compare it to a candle. It burns brightly at first before it slowly melts the way and the candle comes crashing down, snuffing out its flame with its own wax. Each month that passed was a step closer to the end that you both desperately tried to ignore.

You laid in your bed, snuggled into your blankets as you tried to seek warmth. The jacket that Iwaizumi gave you that you wore provided no warmth. It may have eased the cold that the rain brought, but it did nothing to ease the winter that stormed within your chest. Despite the bitter cold, you held on. After all, every winter has to end, right?

You frowned as you looked at one of the pictures that Iwaizumi was tagged in. A blonde girl with her arm around his shoulder, and Iwaizumi with a bright smile. The kind of smile he used to wear in pictures with you.

You could feel anger in your veins, jealousy mingling with it as it brought your blood to a light simmer. You were being unreasonable, you knew that, but six months without Iwaizumi was getting to you, and seeing some other girl doing what you desperately wanted to, but not being able to, made an envious feeling grow in your chest. It didn’t help that she wore the jacket you knew all too well: A jacket you gave Iwaizumi before he left for California. Your eyes teared up at the fact.

You shut your phone and your eyes, ready to turn in for the night before the familiar ringtone fills your ears. You wait. You don’t answer immediately. You let the phone ring a bit more. Your irrational side coming out to play as you hoped that maybe Iwaizumi would feel just as cold as you if you answered him later than you usually did.

You pick up.

“Good morning, love.” Iwaizumi’s face pops up on your skin, a bright smile on his face as the beginnings of the morning sun kiss his skin. The background was moving, and the camera was unstable, which meant that Iwaizumi was probably walking to his class somewhere, “I’m sorry for calling at this time. It’s probably late there but I missed— Wait, are you okay? You look like you just cried.”

You saw that Iwaizumi had stopped walking, the background behind him as stagnant as the words stuck in your throat.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi furrows his brows. “Talk to me.”

You begin to speak. “I don’t think—“

The lightning strikes outside, and a bright flash fills your room. You laughed bitterly in your head, perhaps it was a warning from the universe.

You change your approach. “In the hundred different futures you imagined… In the Dateko game…”

You struggle to find your words.

Iwaizumi smiles, but it looks quite forced to you. “The hundred different futures I imagined with you when you cheered for me in the Dateko game?”

“Yeah.” You almost feel guilty as you finalize the words you’re about to say in your head.

“What about those?” Iwaizumi asks, ever the patient and understanding boyfriend he was, but you could see it. The glint in his eyes that he had whenever he wanted to finish something. The look he had in his eyes whenever he just wanted to get things over with like they were some sort of… Inconvenience.

“Did you...” You shift in your bed, second-guessing your words as you sit up and fiddle with the hem of Iwaizumi’s jacket. “Was there a future that went like this?”

“Like this?” Iwaizumi looks confused. “Where I call you in the middle of a street? Not really? That’s too specific, honestly.” He chuckles and your heart sinks.

“No, not that.” You say solemnly. “A future where we don’t work.”

“What?” Iwaizumi looks stunned, and for a second, your heart races at the sight of him looking as he did before… Before he went to California. “What do you mean? Y/N?”

“I just—“

“HAJIME!” You could hear a woman’s voice on the other side. Years of learning English made sure that you understood what she said without a problem “Ready to go?”

Iwaizumi looks away from you as he turns to the source, a smile painting his face. “Of course, just give me a second.”

Your heart sinks in realization.

That’s how he smiled at you in the past.

“I’m gonna go.” You choke out as tears flow down your cheeks. “Have a good day, Iwaizumi-san.”

You shut the phone.

You cry. You didn’t need to hear it fall from Iwaizumi’s lips. You didn’t need to have it confirmed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and you knew that he had feelings for that girl, whoever the hell she was. You knew that he probably only kept you because he didn’t want to hurt you. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you anymore. He probably did, it’s just that he found someone who was… There. Someone who wasn’t in a different place. Someone he could hug anytime he wanted to. It’s unfortunate that it wasn’t you, but maybe you should’ve seen it coming.

So you let go, and it was timely. What started underneath the rain, ended under it. The warmth of the first confession was washed away by the droplets, leaving nothing but the cold to soak deep into your system as you sobbed into your bed, hastily pulling the jacket off of your frame.

You make sure that Iwaizumi never gets to contact you. You had left him a message: a cruel “I’m breaking up with you, I’m sorry,” and nothing more. Maybe that would hurt him enough to make him feel less guilty about making moves on the other girl. You knew it was stupid to just leave him like that, but you just wanted it to stop. You hated the feeling of uncertainty. You hated the feeling of not being able to do anything. If you had to hurt yourself in the process of finding your peace of mind, then so be it.

Years pass and you’ve graduated. You’ve moved on. It wasn’t an easy process, but you pulled through. There were moments you just so wanted to desperately call Iwaizumi and crawl back into his arms, apologizing and all, but you stop yourself each time. You cut off all contact with him, you weren’t going to waste that. However, you knew that no matter how moved on you are, some part of you will always love him… And that’s okay. You’re okay. That’s the only thing that mattered.

Currently, you were in a convenience store, grabbing a quick snack before you went to the stadium to watch the volleyball match with Oikawa, who arrived from Argentina a few days back and wanted to meet up. The setter was probably looking for milkbread in one of the aisles, so you took your sweet time in picking a drink and snack because the setter would probably be shocked by the new variety of milkbread choices that popped up while he was still in Argentina.

Your phone buzzes.

Flatass: I’m at the table near the back, slowpoke. Get your ass here.

You roll your eyes with a grin before you text back.

You: You’re just jealous I have more ass than you.

You don’t get a reply. You shrug and pay for your items before you walk to the back of the store to eat with Oikawa.

“Oikawa—“ You stop at the sight.

Instead of Oikawa on the chair, it was Iwaizumi, still as handsome as he was years ago.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi smiles. “Do you mind if I watch with you guys? Oikawa had an extra ticket and who was I to decline—“

“I don’t mind.” You smile, nothing but happiness filling your chest as you reunite with an old friend.

A/N: I like to pretend that this part of the storyline doesn’t exist 💖. Also, this was written before Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer was a thing so please excuse the ending.

[c-c-cherry]

What's the most embarrassing thing each of the Bucci gang has done/has had happen to them?

Ok I took WAY too long on this but I loved this question so much and it was so fun coming up with these. Special thanks to my girl @jjadegreen for helping me!!

**This isn’t NSFW but I’d say its teen and up just because of some of the stuff talked about hehe**

______________________

Mista

-Pre-canon Mista was a bit sick one night so Bruno made him stay home while they all went on this one mission

-So naturally he’s like “HELL YEAH HOME ALONE”

-Bruno forgets his wallet and had to come back a little while later to get it and walks in on him wearing the following:

One of Abbacchio’s signature goth dress robe thing

Like 12 of Bruno’s barrettes all sticking to the top of his head

Fugo’s tie

Narancia’s bandana

All while BLASTING K-Pop at full volume in the living room. And our man is INTO IT. This isn’t just some radio coincidence shit, he was SCREAMING the lyrics. He owns the CDs.

-Bucciarati LOSES IT. Mista has never been so mortified in his life and Bruno has never laughed so hard in his life.

-He promises not to tell the rest of the gang but tells him it’s officially blackmail material

-They never speak of it again but at Christmas Mista opens Bruno’s gift and it's a brand new K-pop CD and everyone thinks its just a gag gift but like

-He definitely listens to it later alone in his room

Bucciarati

Bruno Bucciarati does not get drunk for two main reasons:

He blacks out every time

He’s an absolute lightweight

-The last time Bruno got absolutely piss drunk, he was with Abbacchio and it wasn’t even funny. It was just surreal because Bucciarati never lets himself go to such an extent

-For whatever reason Bruno is like “hey I never drink we should go to the bar or something” after a successful mission

-Even though the legal age of drinking is technically 16 in Italy they leave “the kids” home to watch mean girls or some shit

-Mista tags along too because he’s worried Bruno will get drunk and spill about the unfortunate “K-pop incident”

-My man Bruno drank like two beers and was immediately GONE like he got up and got lost in the bar after way too many drinks and ran into a drag Queen with Abbacchio’s hair

-Said drag queen became Bruno Bucciarati’s new drinking buddy

-He stumbles over to the karaoke contest and gets onstage and grabs the shitty bar mic and screams “THIS GOES OUT TO LEONE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MWUA TWO YEARS HONEY~” and Mista is just like 👁👄👁

-Because uhhh they have literally been together for two years but everyone in the gang just thinks its a weird on/off thing because they never talk about it

-He sings dancing queen because its by ABBA and both Leone and Mista are fucking screaming with laughter and Abbacchio is filming the entire goddamn thing

-He buys the entire bar drinks they all love him so much

-Afterwards Leone tries to get them home so he leaves them outside while he takes a piss and when he walks back out THEY ARE GONE.

-Mista thought it would be a perfect time for them to get tattoos because his fucking capo is drunk off his ass and there is no better time

-Mista gets these two giant smoking guns on his back and his ass is in SO MUCH PAIN afterward that he leaves Bruno alone while he’s picking out his tattoo to get ice cream

-When he comes back Bruno has a tattoo ON HIS LEFT FOOT THAT SAYS “Never don’t give up.” The tattoo people tried to correct him but he insisted

-Abba finds them and is just like “jesus god” and takes them all to a hotel because there is no way in hell he’s taking them back home like this

-The next morning Bruno remembers absolutely NOTHING and as the gang admires Mista’s giant tattoo they ask if Bruno got one too and he’s like “god no I’m not that irresponsible”

-As soon as they’re alone Abba’s like “you got one on the bottom of your foot” and you can just see the moment Bucciarati’s soul leaves his body

Fugo

-Ok so if y’all didn’t know Fugo literally canonically wears a thong

-This isn’t sexualizing him (also I am indeed a minor don’t harass me) it's just a fact of life. You do you Fugo.

-So he sneaks out of the house once in a while and goes shopping for them cause our man’s gotta live, you know?

-He pops in the underwear store one day and you wanna know who he fucking passes by in the lingerie section?

-Bruno fucking Bucciarati.

-Which isn’t exactly a surprise considering he’s wearing visible lingerie in his tiddy window outfit but like

-That’s like running into your dad at femboy hooters

-Much to his dismay, the man spots him immediately and there’s just this...awkward silence as Fugo is holding this shopping basket of underwear and Bruno is holding the raunchiest piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life

-They never talk about it again. Fugo finds a different store.

Abbacchio

-The most mortifying moment Abbacchio can live to remember is the first time he told Bucciarati that he loved him

-Pre-canon, our man is NOT having a vibing time

-He gets absolutely wasted with while Bruno’s at his apartment

-He’s the most miserable drunk, so he’s just fucking sobbing and Bucci is sitting there trying to console him and Abbacchio just looks up at him with tears streaking down his face and says “I’m in love with you” and the look on Bruno’s face just makes him feel even more miserable

-The entire night he keeps blubbering about how much he loves him and how much he means to him and how beautiful he is and the entire time Bruno is doing that thing where he tries to cover his face with his hand because our man is mega FLUSTERED up in here

-When he wakes up he remembers EVERYTHING and he wished he didn’t because then maybe he would be able to say that he didn’t mean it

-Bruno is surprisingly just like “Did you really mean it?” and he can’t lie so he just tells the truth and he’s just nonchalantly like “me too”

-Bruno thinks it’ll be a nice wedding story and Abbacchio no longer wants to live on this planet

Narancia

-Mista and Narancia are vibing in the living room one night and Nara tells Mista to grab his gameboy from upstairs

-He says its under his pillow (or else Bruno will take it away every night hehe)

-But you wanna know what else is under Narancia’s pillow? His Diary. No, it’s not a journal or just a blank book, Mista finds a book titled DIARY.

-And the shit in there is priceless.

“Bucciarati is sooo cool. I tried cutting my hair like his, but it didn’t really work. I think I gotta wear this hat for the next couple weeks. Shit. Fuck. If someone takes it off, I’m so fucked.”

“I clogged up the toilet yesterday and was too scared to tell Abba, so I just flushed it again but then the water wouldn’t stop flooding everywhere so I used Aerosmith to explode the toilet and told Abba that it was a stand attack. He believed me. If ANYONE ever finds out, I’m dead.”

“HOLY SHIT. I swallowed a tide pod yesterday and freaked out so I made Giorno turn it into a grape in my stomach with his stand. I almost DIED. But I didn’t so I’m over it. If Giorno ever tells anyone, I’ll kill him.”

-Narancia realizes about ten minutes after Mista left that HOLY SHIT HIS DIARY

-he finds Mista three quarters way through it and gives him $50 not to tell anyone about it.

-The shame never leaves, though

Trish

-Jade gave me a cute headcanon that Trish’s mom was still only teaching her how to properly put on makeup before she died (it's not like there was youtube or anything to teach her either) so our girl Trish only knows the basics

-She puts on lip gloss and blush and mascara and stuff but she’s never even TOUCHED eyeliner and rarely puts on eyeshadow. She doesn’t even wear concealer most of the time (she honestly doesn’t even need to, her skin is baby soft smooth)

-So long story short she kind of misses her mom and remembers how her mom was going to teach her a smokey eye before she died and is determined to teach it to herself now

-So she pulls a little heist and snatches some of Abbacchio’s makeup while they’re all out doing stuff

-She was not prepared for how heavy this shit was. She was used to the lighter, more natural stuff but Abba’s makeup is EXTREME.

-All of his stuff is waterproof so it doesn’t wash off while he’s crying at 3am and it’s just this—dark, heavy stuff.

-She actually hasn’t used a thick, real tube of lipstick before, only those little gloss tubes with the stick because she has smaller lips so when she crouches over with a small makeup mirror in fear of anyone somehow walking in on her and smears Abbacchio’s thick, dark purple lipstick on her lips, she knew she was absolutely fucked. She has no idea how to do this shit, especially not with dark, heavy goth makeup

-The smokey eye does not work. It’s just smeared eyeshadow EVERYWHERE, it looks like she has two giant, awful, black eyes and her first attempt at eyeliner was just—unspeakably horrible

-She has no idea where to start so she just puts on way too much of absolutely everything and immediately regrets it the moment she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror

-Abba comes home early and immediately realizes that some of his makeup is gone and he knows it has to be Trish

-He walks upstairs to confront her but just hears loud, ugly sobbing coming from her room and bursts in only to find her desperately trying to wipe off layers of caked-on water-proof makeup and absolutely failing

-The two of them spend all night taking it off all while Trish is still crying teary apologies to him

-To add in some wholesome Dadbacchio, he teaches her how to properly put everything on the next day <3

Giorno

-Some people forget that as a 15 year old, Giorno sometimes has absolutely no impulse control

-So when Polnareff tells him that he’s the spitting image of his evil, murderous, vampire dad he’s immediately like “haha well I’m gonna go dye my hair now”

-Everyone had something to do that day/night so Giorno waltzes over to the nearest drug store and grabs one of those at-home dying kits (he got dark green cause he thought it would look cool with his new outfit)

-He gets home and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing so he just thinks it’ll work out somehow

-Soooo yeah he does NOT put it in properly at all, he just kind of takes the shit and slathers it all over his hair and doesn’t do his roots and doesn’t put it up and leaves it dripping down his back and stuff and his stupid ass FALLS ASLEEP with the hair dye in

-He wakes up and the sheets are this really awful light green colour but he doesn’t pay any mind to it

-He looks in the mirror and from the front it actually looks good and he gets all excited and decides to wash it out

-When he gets out of the shower it’s this awful disgusting light light ugly green and he almost cries. Almost.

-It looks like someone dunked him in that Nickelodeon slime and he looks at the package and it says the dye will stay in for at least 3 weeks and there aRE TEARY EYES

-He spends the next hour in the shower trying to wash it out. It does not wash out.

-Utterly defeated with his hair matted and donuts practically falling apart, he stumbles over to his room and tries to wash the sheets covered in slime-coloured hair dye which *surprise!!!* doesn’t wash out either!

-He must dispose of the evidence, but of COURSE they’re out of garbage bags so he shoves all the dye kit stuff and the sheets into a mafia body bag and chucks it by the garbage can outside without a single thought

-Which he SHOULD have had a single thought about it, because when they get home and Narancia spots the body bag he’s like “holy shit guys I think Giorno killed someone while we were out”

-So they all panically pop into the house and cautiously try to find Giorno. Fugo finally finds him pacing around his room in the dark and when he flicks on the lights HO-LY SHIT.

-Fugo obviously bursts out into laughter and Bruno books it up the stairs and also starts cackling and Narancia is like “OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE THAT?!” and Giorno has to explain to them that the body bag is filled with stained bedsheets (much to his embarrassment)

-Abbacchio takes so many pictures and Giorno is having a nervous breakdown because he cannot live with his hair looking like this

-Bruno makes Abba fix it the next morning and he loves every second of Giorno’s mortification

-The pictures Abbacchio took of that night are framed next to the pictures of Bruno’s wasted karaoke night in his room

______________________

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I’m absolutely exhausted now haha so I’ll scroll through the rest of the asks when I wake up!!

[aminiatureworld]

Storms

Ship: RFA + Minor Trio and GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5,431 words total; about 700 per person

Premise: A rewrite of an old request I wrote back in 2017 (link here).

Author’s Note: These are less headcanons and more fics outlines lmao but hope you like this rewrite. I do considering I can barely stand reading the original, my writing has thankfully improved, and I hope it will continue to do so. I haven’t written in 2nd person in literal years (3rd person ftw) so I hope it doesn’t come off too strange. 

Two notes. Firstly I’ve done my best to make the reader gender neutral. If you catch any gendered terms feel free to tell me so I can fix it. Secondly, I haven’t played Another Story yet, rip my broke ass, so if V and Saeran are a bit out of character, that’s definitely why. I’m working on it haha. In regards to V I simply know almost nothing about his route, and in regards to Saeran I’ve decided to ignore what I know about his route, mostly because this was hitting 4,000 words at that point and an in depth HC involving canonical thing would probably be about that length. Sorry this is so long and thus the final HCs a bit rushed. Thanks for putting up with me! Hope you enjoy!

Ao3 link in reblog

Zen

Having a fear of thunderstorms was one of the most obnoxious fears on the planet sometimes. Especially when one is surround by 60 mph gusts of wind and the house one lives in feels like 80% glass.

This was the predicament you were left in when a series of storms passed through the first week you and Zen were officially dating. Oh joy.

Despite how in love you were with Zen, revealing one’s fears, especially when they seem vaguely irrational, is a difficult thing to do, so you teetered towards Option B

That being: Don’t tell anyone, keep calm, if you need to take a break go to the bathroom or say you forgot something in the bedroom. Okay? Okay.

However this flawless plan of attack lasted only about five minutes, and the first clap of thunder had you ready to bolt under the bed.

Zen, bless him, was utterly oblivious, listening to the backtrack of a song he was working on and occasionally making such benign comments as “that’s a lot of rain” or “wow that was loud”

Yeah. That was loud. Help me.

Eventually it got a bit… much, and you had to make your excuses about getting a book from the television/living room. Since it was in the “basement” part of the complex you’d figured that it’d be easier to hide out there. Just turn off all the lights, try to find earplugs, then count down the time until the storms were over.

Unfortunately the weather wasn’t adhering to this plan very well, how typical of it, as the storms were supposed to last until the early hours of the morning. And it wouldn’t exactly be unobtrusive to not eat.

So after ten minutes in the dark you went out to help Zen prepare dinner. At least no one needed to go to the grocery store. And today’s menu included Japchae, so always a treat! It was going to be okay, nothing was going to happen. It’s fine.

At least that’s what you told yourself until a particular bright flash of lightning streaked the sky and you promptly jumped and dropped the sweet potato noodles on the ground.

At this point Zen switched from oblivious to overly concerned. Say what you will about him but he was truly a sweetheart when he noticed something was wrong. As he helped you pick up the spilled noodles, assuring you that there was enough still in the package to use, he asked what was wrong

You explained that when you were little your grandparents had a house in a village in the countryside and one summer day lightning struck a powerline, causing it as well as two houses close to yours to burn down.

Zen responded with such concern. “Oh MC I’m so sorry to hear that! Was anyone hurt? No wonder you’re uncomfortable around storms now.”

“It was such a long time ago, and it’s so unlikely to happen again my lifetime… I don’t know why I’m still so afraid, it’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to be afraid of something. You don’t have to hide your fears around me sweetheart. There’s no shame in it.”

Unfortunately words usually cannot make fears go away, but safe to say you were touched. Picking up the rest of the noodles and disposing them you and Zen shared a sweet series of hugs, and maybe you wouldn’t continued down that route if the water hadn’t begun to boil and dinner was once more brought back into stark focus.

Afterwards you guys ate in front of the tv, turning on a random crappy show and making fun of the announcer.

You could still hear the thunder every once in a while, but Zen made sure you felt safe and happy, cuddling you, doing something to draw your attention to him at the beginning of each clap of thunder, and keeping up a steady stream of conversation, even about the most mundane of things.

Your fear still wasn’t gone, and you still weren’t excited for the rest of the week, but at least you had someone with you who truly cared and was actively trying to make you feel better. You knew Zen would always be there for you, and that knowledge would carry you through the most anxious of times, to the other side.

You truly loved him so much.

Yoosung

Sometimes you wished that you could disappear into something as easily as Yoosung did, both with his games and with his studying.

Yoosung was in his first year of veterinarian medical school and, having just passed the first series of exams, had invited you over to the apartment he was leasing, for an evening of games, television, and overall hanging out. It would’ve been more of a date, but the weather was impressively stormy and, much to your relief, it was decided that staying inside was the better option.

Yoosung was loading up a game on the tv and you were checking to see what remained in the fridge, when a bolt of lightning raced across the sky; suddenly you became aware of just how very high up apartment buildings tended to be, and, much like usual, the logical part of your brain repeating Googled information about lightning rods was replaced by a static of anxiety floating around in your brain.

Returning to the TV room you nervously picked up the controller, hoping that Yoosung wouldn’t notice. Not that you didn’t trust him to understand, indeed you’d hardly met anyone as understanding as Yoosung, but it was more that years of being told “it’s just rain” had kinda gotten to your system.

The first half an hour or so was alright, the quiet mental notes you were taking told you that the storm was still far enough away, although there was no doubt it was getting closer; something reinforced by your, hopefully, discreet checking of the weather app.

When the storm arrived, oh boy did it arrive.

The winds felt unbearable, screaming terribly, rattling the windowpanes with fast, stinging rain, so much so the outside looked less like the outside and more like the middle of a whirlpool. A whirlpool that occasionally set itself on fire, the lightning dispersed by the odd shadows of the rain.

At this point all pretense fell out the window.

“MC?” Yoosung looked over as you’d dropped the remote and drawn your legs up to your chest, burying your face in your knees, all thoughts blocked out. “MC.” Yoosung said a little louder, putting his own remote down on the coffee table and scooting over to where you were sitting on the couch. “Hey.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, something vaguely uncomfortable considering the position you both were sitting in, but still a welcome presence, a bit of comfort making its way past your wall of fear.

“Not a huge fan of thunderstorms I see.” He said when the storm had calmed down a bit. You let out a shaky sort of laugh. Understatement of the century, wouldn’t you think?

“I have an idea!” Yoosung ran out of the room, leaving you to curl yourself up again, until he came back, a pair of headphones in hand.

“These are the best noise cancelling headphones I own, and they cost a fortune so they’d better work.” He placed them over your ears, and immediately you noticed how muffled the sound became. Evidently it must’ve shown on your face, because Yoosung smiled even wider, nodding gently before picking up his remote again.

As the storm continued so did the gaming. At some point you guys ended up thrown about the couch, cuddling each other, and occasionally knocking elbows when the gaming got intense. When things were finally over you two lay there a little longer, although you’d taken the headphones off.

“Thank you.” You whispered, content.

“For what?” Yoosung smiled. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”

“Not all boyfriends.” You countered “You’re special. The best boyfriend one could ask for.”

And you meant it.

Jaehee

I imagine both you and Jaehee not being huge fans of thunderstorms. They frightened you, and to Jaehee the volume gave her a headache, not to mention the fact you were both living in a cheap apartment on the ground floor while the coffee shop’s purchase was still new; and the whole structure had this obnoxious habit of vibrating with both the lightning and thunder, leaving everything a bit discombobulated and very unpleasant.

The coffee shop wasn’t much better really, open as it was, the whole front being 85% glass and only 15% brick.

So when you both checked your phones and saw that storms were on their way it was all about planning.

Since you couldn’t afford to close the shop for the week you instead put a large display in the windows, putting up cardboard trees, birds, and whatever else would block most of the view.

You went through the store, making sure everything unnecessary was unplugged.

Really it was probably a bit overkill, or at least Jumin and Seven certainly thought it was, but hey better safe than sorry.

The apartment was given the same treatment, blinds and shutters were closed, toasters and charging cords were unplugged, and Aspirin and earplugs were stocked up.

The week of the storms was really incredibly unpleasant, with you two sneaking in hugs and kisses whenever the line of customers was small, squeezing each other’s hands when a particularly bright streak of lightning flashed, or when the thunder seemed to become unbearable.

No dawdling home this week, much to the chagrin of both of you, who’d taking to park exploring and other such mundane things that both you and Jaehee had missed out on, her due to work and you due to being shut up in Rika’s apartment for eleven days.

Nevertheless neither of you were particularly keen to venture out in the middle of a storm, so instead you two headed home, a night’s worth of musicals and cuddling ahead of you.

Dinner was spent in front of the tv, although usually you two usually made a point to eat at the dining table it was in the most windowed room in the house and thus not meant to be.

Zen’s beautiful tenor might not have been enough to completely drown out the storms, but it was certainly a help, not to mention the large doses of cuddles you were giving one another.

But really the best part about it was just being able to talk freely about your fears, you both having the reference that those who don’t suffer with what’s widely considered an irrational fear in modern times don’t understand.

And that was really what kept it together for you two. You’ll always be there for one another, you’ll always understand one another.

Eventually the clock struck the hour and you both realized that not only would there be work tomorrow, but musicals can’t much be enjoyed when you’re only paying half attention.

You got ready for bed, both making a final sweep for plugged in appliances that might burn out if there should be an energy surge.

Right before you two drifted off to sleep you gave Jaehee a small kiss. “What was that for?” She whispered. Everything was so beautifully comfortable, so cozy and intimate, and your happiness in that moment overpowered all fear.

“I just love you, I love you so much.” You replied. Jaehee blushed, but returned the kiss.

“I love you too. Forever.”

Jumin

It’s not that you hid it from him because you were embarrassed, well at least that wasn’t the main reason. It was more Jumin’s habit of blowing everything out of proportion, to the point of hindrance. That was really what you were afraid of, you just needed calm, need comfort, not yoga or whatever was to be the cure. And not that Jumin couldn’t or wouldn’t give you comfort, but the likelihood of him giving you calm was maybe a bit more debatable.

So you tried to keep it hidden, mentioned nothing of it on your way out the door in the morning, avoiding the topic in the messenger, even when Seven started to go on and on about windspeed – did the bastard know something?

Things seemed to be going… okay? I mean they weren’t great, you were constantly pushing down the urge to hide in a closet or something, but hey Jumin wasn’t aware yet. Success?

The trip home was certainly unpleasant, and the text that your husband was working late again certainly didn’t seem promising, but hey there’d be Elizabeth, and the bedroom had amazing blackout curtains. So, yeah, it’d be fineeee.

At least it would be if the damn penthouse didn’t have windows for walls. Something that certainly wasn’t normal or part of the regular plan.

Nor was it really possible to take a nap with the thunder so loud and your thoughts running high, really it’d probably be better on the lower floors if you weren’t so sure of people being there.

At this point the plan became less of “don’t let Jumin know, play it cool” to “survive whatever the cost”, which yes perhaps was also an overreaction on your part, but you knew damn well that all rationality had long fled, and you weren’t about to go chasing after it, that wasn’t what you needed right now. Rationality was also what had you go into a google wormhole about terrifying lightning related accident. Need one say more?

So you picked up a perhaps a bit disgruntled Elizabeth the 3rd, and buried yourself under the covers, stroking her fur at regulated intervals, trying desperately to pay attention to the video you’d loaded on your phone, to less than perfect success.

You wouldn’t say that you were dozing when Jumin came home, it was more like you were so deep in your fears that you really didn’t have room to pay attention to anything else.

“MC?” Jumin was instantly alert when you didn’t run to greet him at the door, something that had really become tradition between the two of you. Him being also a bit of a worrier – and a bit being perhaps a gracious way of saying it, lovely though it can be – his first thoughts were that you’d hit your head and passed out somewhere, but the fact that Elizabeth had also not come to greet him clued him in that you two were most likely holed up somewhere, perhaps napping, as had happened a few times before.

His surprise then when you turned out to be in bed, distinctly not unconscious or asleep, holding onto Elizabeth like a vice, was really immense.

“Darling, is something wrong?” You knew he meant something rather more akin to “Something is definitely wrong and I’m very worried and hope you tell me, if not I might become a horrendous paranoiac and never stop bugging you but I also want to be polite about it.”

You folded quite quickly, deciding that it really wasn’t worth it, you were in such a state, and the anxiety was still in complete control of your brain, excuses weren’t about to be made.

In a moment Jumin had enveloped you in a hug, which you were glad to accept, discreetly kicking his phone away hoping that he’d not notice it and get it in his head to send for a meditative trainer or some such thing, since that wasn’t what you were looking for, at least not at the moment.

Thankfully though he seemed more focused on your wellbeing, asking you to talk through your anxiety, gently drawing circles on your back in an attempt to get rid of excess tension. It felt good to be able to release your stream of consciousness, even if it was a bit embarrassing. Every time you started feeling a bit overwhelming you’d insert an apology here and there but Jumin would simply shake his head and assure you it was fine

“After all, you were so patient and understanding when I went through a crisis of consciousness, when all my emotions were suddenly flooding my mind. You listened to me then, the least I can do is listen to you now.”

After you’d exhausted your thoughts and you two had laid there a bit, cuddled together, basking in each other’s presence, you two went to the kitchen, where Jumin insisted he’d make dinner himself.

You weren’t happy to be in the windowed room again, but one flick of a discreet switch and they were suddenly shuttered closed.

“You can do that?!”

“Of course?”

“Ugh, the idle rich.” You shook your head and Jumin feigned horror. This act went on throughout dinnertime, another thing to help soothe your nerves, as well as Elizabeth, who was being awfully nice, curled up in your lap.

Every clap of thunder and Jumin would hold your hand or give you a kiss or hug, again trying to distract you.

Afterwards it was watching trashy soap operas – really you couldn’t understand why Jumin adored these shows so much, he really did secretly have a flare for the dramatics – and more cuddling.

As the night got later and you got sleepier you realized that, though the anxiety wasn’t completely gone, you really were quite content.

“Ah, I wouldn’t mind this every time it stormed.”

Jumin chuckled at that. “Why not? Anything to make you comfortable and happy.”

“You’re going to spoil me terribly you know.”

“Again, why not? Comfort isn’t spoiling someone, and if it was I’d spoil you rotten. You deserve the universe, I’m just giving what I can.”

And really the comfort he gave you was worth five universes at that moment, but wasn’t he always worth that much?

Saeyoung

Saeyoung’s reaction to your fear would probably initially be teasing.

Not because he thought it was funny, more his brain still found sincerity a hard thing to grapple with, and he found his knee jerking reaction be to try and make fun, enough fun for you to forget about everything.

You knew this of course, had long ago learned his patterns, his mannerisms and habits, and initially you tried to play along with it, after all the only reason he knew you were afraid of thunderstorms was because he’d caught you running into the closet on the CCTV in Rika’s apartment. If it weren’t for that you would’ve been perfectly happy with him never finding out. Surely you could humor him a bit.

Well anxiety has a funny way of sharpening one’s nerves, and by the sixth joke you were ready to pull your hair out, both from Saeyoung and from the storm.

“Hey Saeyoung? I really do appreciate what you’re doing, don’t get me wrong, but I… I don’t think this is going to be the way to sort it out.”

“Oh… I see.” Saeyoung faltered. Saeran, who was also not a fan and was thus gaming, probably with the volume at unhealthy rates, still managed to snort out a “I could’ve told you that.” Saeyoung shook his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry MC… I, uhm. Yeah…” For a moment you both sat on his horrifically battered couch, the tension rising. Saeyoung screwed his face up in thought, before launching himself towards you, wrapping you up in a huge hug.

“I.. Saeyoung-?”

“Cuddles are a miracle cure.” He said, kissing you on the forehead. “They’ll chase away the storms, just you wait, and in the meantime, how about you teach me how to make something other than sandwiches.”

“I know you know how to cook.” You pointed out, at least happier with this approach, but Saeyoung shook his head.

“I forgot. I can now only make ham sandwiches, and that is truly a sad fate. Won’t you help me? Oh cook in shining armor.”

You rolled your eyes at that “Isn’t being the hero more of your route?” But agreed to make something with him.

Saeyoung really put everything into the “I forgot act”, and you soon found yourself distracted by his antics, peeling onions with a vegetable peeler, “accidentally” getting flour in your hair, tackling you with hugs and kisses the minute thunder or lightning even attempted an interruption. You found yourself either laughing or breathless from his attention, and when your anxiety was too difficult to ignore you allowed Seven to wrap you in a hug as you buried your head in his shoulder, his arms acting as a barrier for the sound.

Dinner took a horrendously long time to cook, something Saeran was sure to point out, but it really did help. As you two were cleaning up dishes Saeyoung paused for a moment.

“Being a hero really isn’t my thing you know.”

“Huh?” You’d sorta forgotten the earlier conversation amidst all the antics.

“You saved me MC, from myself, my own destruction. The least I could is chase away a few thunderstorms. I’d do anything to make you happy. So, I hope that you can be happy.

“What a silly thing to say.” You said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’m already so very happy, so incredibly glad to have you in my life. Indeed, if this isn’t happiness then there is no such thing.”

He really was your hero, your knight in peculiar armor. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

V/Jihyun Kim

V hated thunderstorms. Although he’d agreed to get his vision fixed, the date of the surgery was still some months off, and in the meantime every storm sent him in disarray, the sudden loudness of the thunder a disconcerting reminder of his own vulnerability, the fact that if even one thing in his life shifted he was likely to run right into it.

Being someone who had such a visceral hate, he was quick to become aware of your anxiety as well. It was something he just picked up on, before you had the chance to even think about hiding it from him.

“I see I’m not the only one who hates when it storms.”

You weren’t really surprised by his fear, he’d made it quite clear how he disliked to be reminded of the vulnerability that came from being blind, his eyes were already an ever present reminder of his past, a reminder of the feelings that had rotted inside him, which were so difficult to reconcile with.

So during the storms he ended up focusing most of his nervous energy on you, preferring that to morbid thoughts about the path his life had taken.

Coincidentally you tended to have the same reaction, and thus stormy days, though far from pleasant, became a semi-pleasant ritual, full of affection and comfort.

You pointed out the lightning and counted the miles out loud for him, something that helped him ground himself in the world, feel a little more in control of the situation, and in return he kept up a steady stream of conversation, telling you how your fears weren’t silly, how much it mattered to him that you were happy, and all the things you’d do together when the storms passed.

Sometimes you two turned on a podcast, or a video whose audio V had heard multiple times before, another exercise in familiarity that helped comfort you two. He also didn’t mind whether you kept the lights on or turned them off, only wishing to keep at least one window open, to keep track of the storm’s progress.

He also was in the habit of singing or humming at random intervals, his voice kept you in the moment, rather than in an endless loop of “what ifs”.

By the end of the storm you two were often exhausted, which is why they so often ended with you two tangled together, already half asleep.

One such time you were about to sleep, only barely awake to nod when V said the storm had passed.

“Jihyun,” you mumbled, hearing a hum in return. “I love you.”

V smiled, hearing that from you always felt like a moment of rejuvenation, of sudden clarity.

Kissing your forehead he hugged you a little tighter.

“I love you too.”

Saeran

Saeran loved storms. Loved the sheer, raw, uninhibited power they exuded, the proof of how natural ruled above all.

You knew that. You also knew that storms were, in fact, the bane of your existence, and that you’re rather die than sit up and watch them with him.

But you also didn’t want to disappoint him, didn’t want to be a source of unhappiness in his life, so when Saeran eagerly looked out the window and called out “MC! It’s thundering!” You reluctantly dragged yourself over to watch with him.

At first it was alright if you focused on him more than on the outside, the awe and glee he took in watching the rain was endearing, the happiness marked so clearly and without inhibition. It was something that almost took your breath away in how beautiful it was, the joy of somehow who’d had so little of it.

Then the first clap of thunder arrived and you’d nearly sprained your wrist, slipping on the counter and banging your arm.

Saeran’s attention was immediately turned away from the thunderstorm and he looked at you curiously.

“Are you alright MC?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just, I’m fine.” You didn’t want him to know. It made him so happy, how could you ever take away from that, holding you bruised elbow you excused yourself to the bathroom for a moment, saying you needed make sure nothing was serious.

Of course that excuses could only last for so long, but the bathroom seemed such a comfort compared to the windowed rooms, and you lost track of all sense of time or space, curled up in a ball, leaning against the cold wall, the linoleum tiling keeping you grounded.

Eventually however it came to an end, and there was a short knock before Saeran turned the doorknob and opened the door.

“Something wrong?” He asked, immediately realizing the answer to that question after looking at your position. Kneeling down to face you he cupped your cheek. “Thunderstorms?”

You nodded, despite yourself. You really didn’t want to take this from him. But he didn’t seem to have felt like anything was taken, instead kissing you on the forehead and opening his arms for you to envelope yourself in them, something you did gratefully.

He held you, rocking you slightly, whispering random bits of words, random pieces of song, anything to keep your anxiety lower. Nudging the door shut once more you two stayed there for a while, and you finally felt yourself calm down.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

“For what?” His tone was that of genuine confusion.

“For taking away watching thunderstorms from you. I don’t want to take anything away from you of course, I really don’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh MC…” Saeran peppered your face with kisses. “You haven’t taken anything away from me. I can still watch the thunderstorms, can still love them. Your fear isn’t something to be ashamed of, we all fear things in our lives, all have things we’d rather throw aside. I’m always here for you, always. It’s something I chose, and would choose over and over again. And that choice doesn’t mean I cannot chose to love thunderstorms, or watch them. It just means I have to make sure you’re comfortable as well. Besides, I wouldn’t want to do something that made you uncomfortable, not if I could do something about it. So don’t talk like that anymore, okay?”

You nodded, feeling reassured and slightly sheepish. He really was too good for words.

You two stayed in the bathroom until it became too uncomfortable, when you moved to the bed. It was a lovely evening, the storms having mellowed into a gentle rain.

Wrapped in Saeran’s arms you suddenly felt such a rush of emotions overcome you, contentment, bashfulness, love. Especially love.

You loved Saeran so much. And you always would.

Vanderwood

You’d really rather not tell Vanderwood.

You two were the cynics of the group, sarcastic, unfazed, or rather you hid your general emotions to the larger group in a swath of wit and humor. You really didn’t want to tell him that you were afraid of what was essentially a fear that had outlived its purpose.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Vanderwood with your true feelings, indeed sometimes you felt as if Vanderwood was the only person you could trust with your true feelings, a sentiment they had reciprocated multiple times.

It was moreso you already knew how much people saw your fear as overreacting. Didn’t need your partner to join the bandwagon of slight bafflement and bemusement, even if they couldn’t help themselves.

So there you were, sitting on the couch, storm on full display, trying not to dig your head into the side of the lazyboy as Vanderwood sat typing away on their computer.

Unfortunately the storm grew more and more violent, and you quickly grew more and more uncomfortable, your plans of nonchalance having really taken a critical hit.

Before you could think of a proper excuse to go into the bedroom closet and have a bit of a scream a huge clap of thunder shook the complex and the book you’d held in your hands plummeted to the ground.

Vanderwood immediately got up and shut the blinds. “I forgot you don’t like storms.” They said, closing the last of the blinds before turning around to your startled face.

“You know I don’t like thunderstorms?!”

“Was I not supposed to?” They looked vaguely confused, and not a bit amused.

“No.” You buried your hands in your palms.

“No I was or no I wasn’t?”

“You weren’t.” You groaned. “It’s embaraassing.”

“Why should it be embarrassing? Look, MC.” They walked over to you, taking your hands in theirs. “There are a lot of embarrassing things people are in life. Of which I’m at least half of them. I cannot say a lot of things with great confidence, but I can say this. You aren’t the least bit embarrassing for having an incredibly common and practical fear.”

“A fear that should’ve died out with the invention of bricks.” You muttered.

“Perhaps. But we both know that’s not how it works.” They replied. “So don’t feel the need to hide something like that. Okay?”

You nodded and Vanderwood smiled, before giving you a hug, something which you gladly reciprocated.

It was a quiet evening, one of easy cooking and laughing at miscellaneous videos, of making fun of spy shows and swapping stories.

In the end you probably shouldn’t’ve been so surprised.

Vanderwood was an amazing partner, caring, funny, observant, loving.

Perhaps it was okay to have such a fear around them. And if it was okay with Vanderwood than everyone else would have to suck it up, because really two people’s opinions mattered to you on the fact, yours and theirs. And in this instance you’d found yourselves completely in accord.

[dontshootmespence]

A Good Business Transaction

Summary: Desperate for money after getting into trouble, Y/N enters into a ‘business transaction’ of sorts with resident Thrombey asshole, Ransom.

Pairing: Ransom x Reader

Word Count: 2,368

Warning: Gambling problems, paying for sex, p in v, blow jobs and gagging, fingering, squirting, name-calling, biting, creampies, canon divergent. I really went all out on this one. See below.

A/N: You can all blame my horny-for-Chris gf @heycasbutt​ for this.

You have money - not Thrombey money - but you have it. While waiting for Meg to finish with the will reading, you step outside the palatial Thrombey mansion to light up a cigarette, hoping it will quiet your nerves. Unfortunately, you probably have to smoke the entire pack in ten minutes and subsequently die to feel like you aren’t on edge anymore, but hey, that’s life. 

With shaky hands, you tap the lighter and watch the flame ignite, hoping that maybe you’ll spontaneously combust and not have to deal with your looming money problems.

“You know that shit’ll kill ya, right?” 

There goes the cigarette taking the edge off. “Eat shit, Drysdale.” Taking a drag, you let the smoke go into the subtle breeze making its way past the mansion. “What happened with the reading?”

“Family business,” he replies as the corner of his lips turns upward. “You can ask Meg. We’re all fucked.” Something on his face doesn’t read like he’s fucked - like he has something up his sleeve.

Meg’s been your best friend for years, despite you being a few years older, so you were hoping that she might be able to help you with your money issue, but if the whole family is fucked, you assume the entirety of Harlan’s money went to his caretaker Marta. “Well, fuck.”

You put out the half-finished cigarette on the side of the house and pull another one from the pack, quickly lighting it up as you try to wipe away a tear. Last thing you want to be doing is crying in front of Ransom Drysdale. Meg is the only reason you’ve ever met him. He’s sexy as hell but all the looks and money in the world can’t stop Ransom from being the world’s biggest asshole. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, the smallest note of caring entering his voice before he continues with his usual self. “Can’t milk Meg for all the money she’s not getting?”

“Fuck off, Ransom. Meg’s my best friend. I don’t do that kind of shit to people.”

“Everyone does when money’s involved,” he said confidently. “You got money problems?”

“I’m into it with a bookie, alright?”

“How much?”

“Fifty large, and my dad’s basically cut me off because he’s got a new whore he spends all his money on. The child he never wanted from the now dead mother isn’t his priority anymore.”

“What a cocksucker.” Ransom seems genuine for one of the first times in his life. “I can help you out.”

The red ember of the cigarette draws your attention for a moment. You know what he wants. He’s made no secret over the years. “With what money, Drysdale? You just said you’re all fucked.”

“I’ve got my ways.” The glint in his eyes said he was about to fuck his whole family in the ass, including Meg, but you had bookies on your ass and if he was about to come into some money, you needed it. 

You take a step toward him and take another drag. “I don’t what you’re about to do, but you really mean that? You’d keep the bookies from killing me? Because I’m headed six feet under if I don’t pay up by the end of the week.”

“Yea, I’m not completely heartless. My family can eat shit and die, but you-”

“You don’t want me to die when you haven’t had the chance to sleep with me yet.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“When do you expect to come into this money?” Despite Meg being your best friend your need for self-preservation trumps all. You’re about to fuck Meg over and yet you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Few days. A week tops.”

“How about I give you a hint of what’s to come if you get me out of this?”

A raised eyebrow tells you that you’ve got him on the hook. He could be bullshitting about money, but your gut says he isn’t. “Any good business transaction needs some good faith, right?”

What an asshole. Grabbing him by the coat, you guide him behind the house. With his family losing their minds inside, no one will notice if you indulge Ransom’s dirty mind. You back yourself into the wall and slide down, feeling your hair catch in the roughness of the reddish brick.

“You think about this a lot?” He asks. “You got down on your knees pretty quickly.”

You glare at him through hooded eyes - the ‘eat shit’ implied. As you fumble with his belt, you hear him chuckle. God, you hate him. You pull him free of his boxers and run your tongue along the tip, catching the little drop of pre-cum that sits there. Despite his cocksure attitude, he shivers and slips his hand into your hair. “You gonna suck my cock, little girl?”

“I’m going to gag on your cock, Drysdale. Let you fuck it like it’s my pretty little cunt.”

Groaning, he grasps either side of your head and braces his forearms against the brick wall. “Open.”

You do as he says, sticking your tongue. “Fuck my mouth, Drysdale. And if you come through for me, you’ll get so much more. After I get paid of course.”

“Of course,” he says suredly. 

Reaching out, you grasp his balls with your dominant hand and guide him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the velvety smooth skin. You moan around him and watch his jaw drop. This is gonna be the best head he’s ever gotten, if only to ensure that he pays up when the time comes. While his family fights somewhere in the distance, you take him over and over again, making a point not to swallow. If Ransom is anything, it’s dirty, nasty and messy.

A trail of spit drops onto your shirt. “Look at me,” he demands. “Stay still. It’s my turn.”

He places a hand behind your head. At first, you think it’s the act of a gentlemen, but then you realize it’s just Ransom ensuring that if he fucks your brains out he won’t actually fuck your brains out against the brick wall. It’ll be hard to get his money if he’s a convicted murderer. Ransom steps closer to the wall and guides his cock into your mouth again, unrelenting when he feels you gag. Your reflex forces him out and you laugh. Against your better judgement you have thought about his cock in your mouth more times than you care to admit. 

Arousal pools between your legs. If it weren’t for the fact that you need money, and the fact that Ransom would 100 percent fuck you senseless and then go back on his promise, you’d be him to fuck you right here, right now. As he thrusts in and out of your mouth, his cock heavy on your tongue, you hollow your cheeks and try to look up at him. You want to watch the cocky bastard lose his damn mind. 

When he sees your unfaltering gaze, he picks up the pace, his cock getting harder and harder with each pass. “I’m going to come down that pretty little throat.”

You swallow him down and grab his ass, anchoring him there as he pulses down your throat. You hate how turned on you are, shaking as you come. His right hand slinks around your neck so he can feel himself in your throat. “Little slut likes getting her throat fucked?”

“I do,” you reply, swallowing the last of his come as you rise to your feet. “Come through for me next week and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

As you walk away, you wipe the remnants of your ‘business transaction’ from your lips, confident that he’ll deliver.

                                                            ----

Meg’s been crying to you all week. Marta had the inheritance for all of a couple of days when she was found to have killed Harlan. She didn’t. You knew it. Something to do with Ransom you’re sure. But with your deadline to your bookies looming, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

As you knock on Ransom’s front door, you glance around, hoping that no one sees you, especially Meg. She knows about your money problems, so if she sees you’re still alive after walking into Ransom’s place she’ll put it together. She’s a smart girl.

“Come in,” he says, swinging the door open unceremoniously. “You got the account you need it routed to?”

“Yea,” you say, handing over the paper.

He says something about routing the money through various accounts so it’s safer, safer for him obviously; he wants to make sure your bookies can’t come after ‘his’ money. “Alright, call your guy and make sure the debt is paid.”

With shaky hands, you dial the number and wait for him to pick up. “Got my payment?”

“Close call, girl. Don’t let it happen again.” The disembodied voice responds. 

“It won’t.” Because you don’t plan on being here much longer than you have to. You’re going to pay your debt to Ransom, because he’s hot so why not, and then you’re planning on stealing what you can from your father and bouncing before he can do anything about it. Shouldn’t be a problem considering he doesn’t pay attention to anyone but his new whore. “Done,” you say, turning toward Ransom. “I appreciate it. I’ll be out of your hair soon. But I am ready to pay my debt if you’re so inclined.”

“You wear the type of lingerie I asked for?”

Unbuttoning your top, you show him a peek of the nude, see-through lace bra you’re wearing. “Panties match, too.”

“Good girl.” There’s a glint in his eyes that makes you weak in the knees. You’ve had plenty of sex in your life, but something about Ransom’s brash demeanor, give no fucks attitude and search for his own pleasure and his alone gets to you in the best way possible. You have no misgivings about your relationship with Ransom. It’s a business transaction. Money for sex. You got your money and you like sex, so why not follow through? “Strip. Leave the lingerie on though. I plan on destroying it.”

His red gaze remains fixed on you as you let the shirt drop to the floor and your jeans pool around your ankles. “Best 50k I’ve ever spent.”

“Bastard.”

“You like it,” he says as he begins to circle you.

Behind you, he pulls off his light blue sweater and throws it who knows where. All you hear is its soft thud on the ground before he spins you around and pushes you back toward the couch. You fall into it and watch him reach for what appears to be condoms. “Don’t,” you say. “I’m on the pill and I was just tested. I want you to come in my tight little cunt.”

“You are a little slut.” Happily, he throws the box to the side and drops to his knees in front of the couch, pulling the lace to the side so he can lap at your arousal. “I’m going to make you squirt. Scream my name. I plan on ruining you for every man that comes after me.” 

His tongue slides up and down your slit a few times before he slips two fingers inside. With his other hand, he rips the panties to shreds and discards the material on the floor next to him. You grab his head and silently beg for more - faster, harder - anything. When you clench your legs around his head, he starts to fuck you with his tongue, his hands clasping your thighs like his life depends on it. 

Pulling away, he leaves you wanting as he rough fucks your pussy with his fingers. “Squirt for me, slut.”

Your orgasm crests in an instant and then you’re doing what you haven’t before, crying out his name as you squirt. He laps it up like a man starved as you shake, his fingers still inside you. “You’ll never find another woman like me either, Hugh. Every woman you fuck until the end of time. You’ll wish she were me.”

He says nothing. You use his real name, knowing it’ll anger him, but he’s speechless. You’re right and he hates that. Pushing his pants down, he kicks them off and spreads your thighs with his roughened palms, bearing all his weight on you. 

With no ceremony whatsoever, he plunges into your wet heat, groaning at the fit. “God, your pussy is perfect.” Each slam of his cock makes you cry out, back arching into the couch, nipples taut against the thin, but confining fabric of your bra. Whether he senses your frustration or just wants to see all of you, you don’t know, and you don’t care, because he pushes the lace above your breasts. 

As he pounds into you, he bends down to take one of your nipples between his teeth. “Fill my pussy up Ransom. I want it.” You wrap your legs around his waist and use your heels to push him into you harder and harder. 

His sweat-slick skin meets yours as he bends down to take your mouth in a searing kiss. It’s filled with lust and hatred and leaves your head spinning as another orgasm threatens to turn you to jelly. 

Each groan and growl says he isn’t far from coming himself. He grasps your inner thighs and scratches at the skin, pulling out all the way before pumping back in. When he comes, you cry out, “Ransom!” You rub your clit and arch up, muscles spasming as his cock twitches inside you, hot thick ropes of come pooling inside you. 

“Fuckin hell,” he breathes. “I’ll be thinking about this pussy for a long time.”

You dip your finger into your pussy and feel his come, bringing it to your mouth for a taste. You make a point of not breaking his gaze. Sure you’re leaving, but you want to make a lasting impression on the asshole. “Take a picture, Ransom, it’ll last longer.”

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he finds his phone and replies, “You know what? I think I will. For posterity’s sake.” He smirks.

Blissed out and filled with come, you smile for the camera. “Eat shit, Drysdale.”

[michaelyew]

In an adaptation/rewrite of tlo I have some changes I'd like to make. Aside from the obvious. And I really like this book, it's my favourite from the main series, but it needs some updating!

**********

Firstly in order to fix The Last Olympian we need to fix some things in The Battle of The Labyrinth.

I want Beckendorf to have a bigger role in this book. He was introduced in the second book, but here is where he could really shine as a son of Hephaestus This whole quest is about his dad! He should be able to get more screen time in this story so that we can care about him on his own merits instead of as one of Percy's friends or the tragic love interest. For that, I think he should be a part of the questing trio. 

"But what about Grover!"

What about Grover? He has his own reasons for going into the labyrinth, he doesn't need permission from Chiron to look for Pan. He's a smart boy with some brains, he can see the maze as a lead and go in after them on his own. This also creates the same conundrum of Threes that came up in the book before, which we'll come back to later. Percy can intrust Tyson's care to one of the other demigods set up to be his friend in TLO: Michael Yew to establish their friendship and trust, Lee Fletcher to give him some purpose besides dying, the Stolls to once again affirm that the Hermes cabin takes on responsibility for other campers, ect. When Tyson later sneaks off into the Labyrinth after Percy, this sets up a later conflict that establishes whatever choice more. This also fixes something else that's always bothered me, which is that it kind of felt that Percy only truly accepted Tyson once he showed how useful he was. Plus he always seemed to feel responsible for him. By having Percy take the time to make sure Tyson is being taken care of outside of his talents, that establishes more concretely how much Percy cares about him as a brother without painting him as a burden.  

So Charlie goes on this quest and sticks it through to the forges. Grover in this version still goes off with Tyson for that sweet sweet character development, but the questing party stays at three. It's here that the parallels set in, because in being burned alive by the volcano and being yeeted to Calypso, Percy is not only saving Annabeth but also Charlie. Saving him from certain death by explosion and flame. It does have the unfortunate side effect of there being TWO incidents of Percabeth having emotional kisses in front of their friends, but we can fix this by having Charlie fight a Telkinhein or something it's fine. Beckendorf drops out of the main story from here to make way for Rachel but he still has one good scene of protecting camp at the end. Plus, I want him to be present when Amnabeth tells Hera she only cares about perfect families and I want him there to defend his dad. 

So for those counting that makes three counts of narrative consistency stacked against Charlie's life (which makes a lot more sense than just killing him off because you needed a martyr). With this we go into The Last Olympian. 

I wouldn't change much about the plot line from here on out. We have the setup of Charlie returning the favour to Percy by saving his life, we get some sweet last scenes of him being a demigod and a hero, the setup to TLO is bomb and it's fine. I'd like more scenes with Michael because if you're gonna set a character up to be front and center then kill him off you could at least give him more than 35 lines.

What I do want to make a point of here though is that Percy lives in BoTL. What happens to Beckendorf specifically from that moment doesn't actually matter so long as it makes a big enough impact on Selina to drive her to reach the conclusions that she does. He could live or die or be yeeted to Calypso, lose a limb or two, it doesn't matter so long as he's put down for the count for the rest of the book. Percy lived, and the rule of threes doesn't actually make an impact again outside of Bianca's death (because if it did someone should have died in Sea of Monsters but they didn't). So I like to think he lives, but I'd be more ok with him dying in this scenario than I was in canon.

However on to Selina, who still needs to die. And it's at this point that I will make people angry by saying that I think Charlie's impact on her is much more meaningful if they were best friends instead of dating. I want a scene in the earlier books where this is established so that we know that they are close. And I want them to be friends because the point of Silena's ark should be that she hurt her friends and she feels awful about putting them in danger and got them killed, not that she's changing herself for a man (or dying for one that's possibly still alive). I just think this would be much more powerful if romance wasn't the main emotion involved. 

That being said I want her to be 50% gayer for Clarisse because we were given Patroclus and Achilles parallels with girls and by GD they will be gay. I will stand for nothing less. I want them to have a relationship that's established at the end of BoTL in the background and I want it officiated in TLO because if you're going to compare them to one of the great mythic queer relationships of antiquity then they WILL BE QUEER. 

Again it would be neat if Michael lived because the alternative is that Percy killed his friend and then never talked about it again and it's never brought up again and it just exists as a thing everyone quietly knows until he snaps in Tartarus. Which I'm not saying that having that conversation instead wouldn't be cool, but the ending kiss is very iconic and I don't think that strong of a tone shift could work. 

Now I want Ethan to live not because I'm bitter and not because almost every person of colour dies in the main series but for one very important reason. Through the entire series, every time we see him, Ethan never actually did anything wrong. He was forced to fight in the arena by Luke, he didn't directly hurt or kill anyone, in fact he's never actually aggressive in any of his later appearances. Yeah he joined Khronos, sure, but it's not like he had any other options. That was his tragedy. Ethan was a son of a minor goddess, a goddess usually seen as evil by other demigods to boot, who was neglected and mistreated by the place that was meant to keep him safe. He had to join Luke because the alternative was being killed or recruited anyway. And he didn't deserve to die for it, the price of his redemption was never that steep. It makes much more sense for Ethan to return to camp and have a hand in rebuilding it with his own hands and making amends for the minor gods with his own power. His fatal flaw was the desire for justice at any means, him being killed when he's so close to freedom and respect doesn't jive with that.  

Additional notes: 

- The romantic subplot between Annabeth and Luke was creepy and we didn't need it. He was a big brother figure to her, that's enough betrayal drama on its own. 

- In general we need more canon ethnicities. In a TV adaptation this is easier obviously, but honestly we shouldn't have to assume things based on names or how little they're described. We should just get to know. 

[sodrippy]

JIANG CHENG GIVE IT TO ME BABE

How I feel about this character

WHAT can i say about jiang cheng grfjcvndc like you know i love him so so so fucking much hes just. god his capacity for love and forgiveness? absolutely unparalleled!!

its bonkers to me that he loves SO unconditionally, that he is always second best (and KEENLY aware of this fact) and STILL loves and idolizes wwx so much anyway and never ever holds any resentment towards him (until the yanli thing and even then he says ‘you said you could control it’ like. god.)

the different ways his parents were disappointed in him left him just begging after any scrap of affection he could get and it breaks my fucking heart like. you are so much better and more than your parents reflective expectations of you man lets hang out and ill teach you how to hate them so it doesnt hurt anymore frhdjcxnfdhbcxn

but really just he loved his siblings with ALL his heart even when he was on the outside looking in sometimes, it didnt matter to him as long as they were together and safe and happy....

i guess people who are incredible and evolved and have never experienced anger dont get him (yes this is sarcasm. like. what is wrong w u lol) but the entire flashback portrayal of jiang cheng is SO heartbreaking bc he really does start out so young and soft and unsure, always looking to his siblings for his cues, and he is just shattered over and over and OVER again and how can you blame him for reverting to the parts of himself that are strong and sturdy and protect him, especially when he’s been conditioned so terribly by his mother to think that’s the only Good part of him? like?????

i just love him SO much and he deserves SO much fucking better rip to everyone else but im writing him exactly that 

All the people I ship romantically with this character: 

ok shipping questions are always weird but my otp is jiang cheng/therapy<3

but also must admit jiang cheng and huaisang have the funniest fruitiest dynamic, i can vibe w that bc theres so much comedy potential in pairing up two ex-frat bros u know

My non-romantic OTP for this character: 

is this just like. who i think they should hang out with or what? in any case, yunmeng trio 10 out of 10 times babe, they deserved to have the lives they planned and promised, plus i think jiang cheng and zixuan becoming reluctant friends after becoming brothers is fun to think about 

My unpopular opinion about this character: 

unfortunately and apparently just loving jiang cheng is an unpopular opinion which is dumb as all fuck like. wake up and get some taste you cowards.

okay so this isnt like, be all and end all and i do think itd be sweet for them to have a reconciliation and reunion BUT one of my probably unpopular opinions is that if wwx left in the finale, he should kind of stay gone.

jiang cheng will ALWAYS always show up for wwx, he did even when he hated wwx, and after finding out the truth it goes double. 

and wwx doesn’t mean to ofc but the way their codependency works, it always always leaves jiang cheng battered and bruised and its not fair. 

this is definitely VERY coloured by my own similar issues and personality so like whatever fhcxnfdscxbhn but i just think jiang cheng deserves to live his life finally outside of the ghost of his brother u know

the way wwx flits in and out of his life on a whim whenever it suits him is just truly so unfair and unhealthy and jiang cheng doesnt need it! thats all im saying!!

One thing I wish had happened with this character in canon: 

OKAY. so fucking much lmao. he really deserved SO much fucking more and the way he’s treated in the present timeline is kind of a travesty. 

yes i realize this says ‘one thing’ no i dont care<3 

he’s left at the end of the series with literally NOTHING. he just keeps fucking losing and losing and LOSING even beyond the point where he thought he had nothing left to lose like. can you fucking imagine?? 

personally i think (correctly) that he should have been the chief cultivator. lan zhan is busy being gay in the mountains like. THAT’S the guy you want running shit? the guy who doesn’t like or even attempt to get along with any of the other leaders and who lives a six hour ski-lift ride away with a walkie talkie radio instead of a cellphone?

jiang cheng is a proven and capable leader, actually gives a fuck about what’s going on, and his whole life was built in order to be that good and  strong leader. he lost literally every single thing he loved in this world and this one thing is all he has left. he should have been the chief cultivator no im not taking any third party thoughts on this. im right<3

THE most heinous crime in the series was they didn’t allow him even one fucking moment of being gentle and kind with jin ling. like??? jin ling is his only fucking relative and youre trying to tell me that jiang cheng, who’s heart is so full it bleeds through his chest, did not pour every ounce of love and affection he had for his sister onto his nephew? fuck off lol

this isnt to say jiang cheng should be super kind and doting all the time bc no, thats silly, hes very much a cranky yelling asian parent who says ‘ill break your legs’ as much as my dad does BUT with actual love this time. 

but like say when jin ling is having a FULL public breakdown on the pier right, jiang cheng doesnt even soften then? really? hes not gonna give any kind of serious comfort to his CRYING teenaged nephew? seriously? okay.

anyway. read my canon divergence fic Or Else. no literally read it im putting a leetle snippet of it under the cut- its jiang cheng scolding six year old jin ling and its the paternal dynamic we SHOULD have gotten and were HORRIBLY DENIED 

but before that,  send me a character!

“Jin Rulan! Come back here this instant!” 

Huaisang smiles to see the little figure stop and turn to stick his tongue out at the sect leader. Sect Leader Jiang chokes on air at his nephew’s audacity for a moment, recovering quickly and striding towards him with purpose, face twisted in anger. Jin Rulan laughs and skips backwards, and Huaisang takes an involuntary step forward as he sees exactly where this is going. The little boy stumbles as he lands a foot wrong on the stone, and goes crashing down. Huaisang winces in sympathy. The other sect leader in the courtyard is not as understanding. He reaches him just as the boy has decided that yes, this does hurt, and bursts into loud tears, but still Sect Leader Jiang stands over him, glaring. 

“Serves you right! This is what happens when you don’t listen! You’re lucky I don’t give you a real reason to cry!” 

Huaisang winces again and stops himself from drifting any closer. Jiang Cheng lets out a huff of air and crouches down. He puts a gentle hand on the boy’s face, and this instantly halves his crying. Jiang Cheng’s face is still scrunched up, brows furrowed, but now it looks closer to concern than anger. 

“Come on,” he grouses, hoisting Jin Rulan up and onto his hip. The boy immediately tucks his face into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, hands clasped around his neck. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and exhales sharply in annoyance, but his mouth quirks up in the beginnings of a stifled smile anyway. Huaisang watches as he walks away, rubbing small soothing circles on Jin Rulan’s back and swaying just enough to be reminiscent of the swing of a lullaby. 

[join-the-joywrite]

Hamish & Vera soulmate au headcannons

Part two of the first words au suggested by my girl, Sima, as demanded requested.

I am Not Happy about this

I'm a very big fan of saying "fuck canon" in favour of my otp happening but honestly ,,,,, the pain is too great to pass up so here we go.

It took months for Hamish to properly open up verbally. When he did, Vera asked about the ring. He told her all about Cassie and Nico, save the bit about the Knights.

It was a few more months when Hamish started visiting the old places he used to love to favourite with Cassie, but they still weren't the same. He didn't mind, though. They were just places now. Places that held pleasant memories. Now, important places are where he goes with Vera.

Hamish is on his way to meeting Vera when he runs into Randall Carpio. The man is crazy, Hamish first thinks. Then, he'd make a good knight.

"Who's the lovely lady? Hi, I'm Randall Carpio, and you are?"

"Taken."

"Damnit, Hamish!"

Vera finds him endearing, somewhat, as one would a toddler. Two days later, Hamish decides to invite Randall into the Knights. Greybeard chooses him and they celebrate. It feels good to have someone to talk to about things only a Knight would understand. He thought about Vera, but after Cassie, he didn't think he could handle it. Besides, Randall looks like he'd take on a wolf without being one of them. He's perfect for the job.

Hamish knocks on Vera's door late one night.

"Are you okay?" "Can I stay here tonight? Please."

Vera obviously lets him in.

"You ever meet someone and you know they've done nothing wrong at all, but it feels like they're trying to replace someone you've lost?" Vers tries a joke, "This isn't about me and Cassie, is it?" Thankfully, Hamish finds the joke funny. "You, no. Cassie, yes. Randall's made this friend and honestly there's nothing wrong with her but . . . it's like she's wearing Cassie's favourite jacket and I can't get her to take it off."

Hamish intentionally leaves out the part where he was the one who opened the doors for Lilith. Vera would find the metaphor much more impactful if she knew Hamish meant Timber.

Hamish doesn't talk much about Lilith to Vera, though it's not as if they get a chance to talk at all. Now with Randall and Lilith knighted, Hamish has found purpose outside of Vera -- taking down the Order. They were what got Nico killed and they were what got Cassie killed. Hamish knew the Order was the bad magic he's supposed to fight. In addition, Vera's just been made Temple Magus and it is a lot more more work than she'd anticipated. Not to mention, having the university in her jurisdiction included attaining the seat of Chancellor. Fuck the social life, I guess.

At least they're always able to come home to each other.

Unfortunately, that too starts falling apart.

Hamish gets pulled deeper and deeper into uncovering the Order with Randall and Lilith, slowly figuring out how to find the pledges and get rid of them. Since he'd told Vera about Cassie, talking about the departed Knight becomes easier. He struggles a bit to explain it all to Randall, but he's able to speak properly and tell Lilith all about Cassie. When Hamish reveals that Cassie had been Timber's champion, Lilith understands. She is harsh and brash and often rude, but she also has a heart to love, no matter how guarded and hidden. She makes an effort to distinguish herself from Timber and from Cassie. Hamish makes an effort to see Lilith instead of Cassie's replacement. Once they succeed on that, their relationship improves tenfold. (Randall is relieved. He was worried his days as a Knight were gonna be filled to the brim with tension and loathing)

Vera gets pulled deeper into the Order. She's sucked into the position she's been granted and no matter how much she tries to leave it for a break now and then, something or the other pulls her back. It doesn't help that the pledges decrease in number every year due to at least one of them dying.

By the time Jack Morton makes his way to Belgrave, things have quite nearly fallen apart. Hamish has stopped visiting an empty house. Vera's stopped trying to call when she finally leaves the temple, only to reach the voicemail of a sleeping Hamish, who's stopped trying to send texts every odd hour.

Given that Jack never actually said Vera's name to the Knights (I believe, and if I'm wrong shhh it's an au), it's no surprise that the the earlier parts of Finals Pt.2 is slightly more comedy than pain. (Let's assume Lilith never mentions Vera's name upon regaining her memories either)

Let it also be known that I, for the life of me, cannot recall how the entire scene plays out, so we just gonna make it up as we go along =)

Hamish is down in the basement when Jack brings a new ally to the den. An injured Lilith is there.

"Miss Bathory." "Bitch." "Fair enough."

Randall is in next, excited to see Lilith back in the den. "Hey! I knew you weren't dead!"

"Randall?" "Vera! Heyyyyy, long time no see, huh? Wh -- what . . . what are you doing here?" "You -- you're one of them? The werewolves?" "Shiiiiiiiit, you know?? Wait, you're not like,, in the Order, are you?" "How long have you been a werewolf?" *guilty face* "FROM THE START????"

Lilith & Jack: 🤨 wtf is happening here

Hamish returns. "Guys, who's. . ." Hamish stares at Vera. For a while, he wonders how she found the den. Then he wonders what she's doing at the den. Then he recalls Jack mentioning that he was bringing an unlikely ally. He'd figured unlikely ally meant someone in the Order. ". . . here?"

Vera shoots Jack a glare. "What the fuck is this, Mr Morton?"

"Uhh . . . I didn't-- I wasn't aware you guys were, uh . . . friends?"

Hamish is still staring at Vera. "This what you've been doing for years? Magic? The Order? That promotion . . . it wasn't about the chancellor position, was it?"

(Lil bit of comedy = Randall: WAIT, SHE'S THE TEMPLE MAGUS??????)

"You say magic like it's evil. Have you ever once thought about the fact that you've been murdering my pledges every year since Miss Bathory was expelled from the Order? Which is more evil, Hamish, protecting magic or killing its practitioners?"

"Your people got Cassie and Nico killed," Hamish hisses, "those practitioners you're protecting are the reason Cassie and Nico died. Magic. Is. Evil."

"Magic isn't evil! I was barely a Magistratus when your ex-girlfriend was killed! Do you think I enjoyed all those respondeo incantations? Wh-- why do you think I started spending so much time at the temple? Making sure I stayed Temple Magus? I am trying to make the Order better. But you? All you care about is murdering my Neophytes. Children."

(Randall: intense wincing as his parents fight. Jack & Lilith: perplexed but very invested in the drama. Jack's a lil upset that he's got plans to go and confront Edward. He kinda wanted to see the rest of that argument.)

"Oh, that's rich, V," Hamish snaps. Despite the clear rage radiating off of Hamish, Vera isn't afraid. The nickname is familiar and welcome. It's home. Hamish, no matter how far he is from her, is home. Doesn't mean she's not got her own barrel of problems to spill.

"Rich?? I'm not the one out here killing people before they get the chance to even live. You -- you -- you are -- you're a monster, you know that?" She says it factually, as if it's something common knowledge.

"Really, V? Are we doing this now?" "Might as well! If we're all going to die, I'm not going down without getting everything out. You know, while we're on the topic of being brutally honest before we die, Mr Morton, your sense of style is horrendous, Miss Bathory, your temper is infuriating and Randall . . . you -- you -- your jokes are lame!"

Funny enough, Randall is most offended. And then Lilith has his attention because she's hurt. "Can you help?" "I don't trust her." "I don't recall caring, do you want me to save your life or not?"

Hamish is pissed as Vera turns to help Lilith. Amusingly, he's pissed because Vera isn't paying him any attention. But there are more pressing matters, like the incoming army. "We have company."

"Fucking Kepler," Vera mutters.

Both Hamish and Randall squint at Vera. "Bitsy Kepler?" "Isn't she a bit . . . fickle and stupid to be in the Order?"

"Oh, you know Kepler too?" Lilith asks, more of a rhetorical question.

"No, V just complained about her a lot." "Don't call me that, Randall." "Sorry."

"They are circling the house. What are they up to?" "Knowing Kepler, something unoriginal."

*sounds of the order throwing burning spells.* The look of awe on Hamish's face as he watches Vera cast a protection spell does not escape Randall and Lilith.

"How long is that gonna last?" "Long enough for us to deal with them."

Vera is already following an undressing Hamish to the doors. "No killing." "No promises."

Lilith stares at the empty doorway. "Are we going to talk about th--" "Nope. Not at all. Never. Anything else. Anything but whatever just transpired."

When they get into the temple and set the Vade Maecum alight, Hamish thinks maybe it isn't so bad. Maybe Vera's right, maybe she can turn the Order around. Maybe magic isn't evil. Vera takes his hand. He gives hers a little reassuring squeeze. Come hell or high water, he'll always come back to her.

It's what soulmates do.

"So, Grand Magus, huh?" "Mhm." "I didn't think you remembered this spot exists."

Vera, despite her new persona of professionalism and perfection, gets down on the grass beside Hamish. She looks at him carefully. Is she doing the right thing? Probably not. But will it keep him safe from her and the Order? More likely than not.

"What is it, V?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Us. What happened to us?"

"Magic," Hamish jokes, lightly tapping his forehead against hers. I missed you.

Vera squeezes his hand twice. I love you.

Hamish closes his eyes. So much trust he has in Vera that despite knowing she's on the other side of the great divide between the Knights and the Order, he still trusts her enough to be around her blind. Vera's guilt starts eating at her insides already. It makes her sick, but she hasn't got a better choice. The alternative is allowing the order to launch an attack on the Knights -- and if the Order could kill werewolves before, they can kill them again. Vera never wants to feel the pain Hamish felt after losing Cassie.

This is losing him, but at least she knows he's alive and safe. Safe from the Order, from magic, from all of Belgrave's dirty little secrets.

She wants to be the one to monitor him, but Grand Magus duties steal her time and attention worse than Temple Magus did. She hates having to leave him in the hands of one of the Medicums, but she can't exactly do it herself, despite wanting to.

"I thought I was the quiet one," Hamish jokes.

"Shh. Some . . . peace and quiet is welcome."

"V, are you--" Vera quickly claps her hand over his eyes. "Sh. Don't . . . don't say anything. Don't open your eyes. I just . . . I just want to see you for a moment."

Hamish smiles and complies. Vera fights to keep her shaking breath quiet. She lowers her hand slowly. Could she spare time for one last kiss? Just one? No. One would never be enough. And she knows that if Hamish kisses her now, her entire resolve will break.

She squeezes his hand twice. I love you.

Before he can respond, Vera blows the powder in his face. She sits up slowly. Dear God, she was sure she'd done something horrible in a past life to warrant this kind of torture. At least for Hamish, losing Cassie hadn't been the product of his own making.

"Your name is Hamish Duke. You go to Belgrave University. You're a TA and -- and you study psychology. Forget the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose. Forget the Knights of Saint Christopher. Forget . . . Vera Stone."

Vera pulls him up. "Hey, that looked like a nasty fall. Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, I think. Thanks."

"Sure." Vera can't help the two subtle squeezes she gives his hand before leaving. I love you. She doesn't want to be there when Selena Durov leaves her class and arrives. She doesn't want to see what Selena says to Hamish, what lies she feeds him and what she does. Vera wants to lock herself in her office and never see another person again.

Hamish frowns as he watches her leave. He wondered what had happened to her that her eyes were so sad. Part of him want to run after her and ask her. Ask her name at the very least. But something keeps him rooted to the spot where he stands.

Who was she and why did he feel like she'd said something very important?

Hamish holds his own wrist for a moment, feeling the ghost of her touch. The slight squeezes he thought he'd imagined.

I love you.

Who the hell was she? And why did he feel like he really ought to know her.

Part 3

Did I win yet, ladies? Or do you want part 3?

@gingersimasnapsandvermishthings @bakulka @everythingabouthatship

See some other soulmate aus I've tried my hand at

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Blade’s MHA Fanfiction Masterlist

Greetings friends!  This is the post listing all my past, present, and future My Hero Academia fanfictions.  Links are provided to what has been published so far.  Titles, summaries, and chapter counts are not final and will be updated as they change.  Please feel free to ask me about any and all the stories described here, not just the ones that have been published.  Thanks for reading!

(This currently version 14 of the masterlist, updated 9/9/2020)

Link to my Ao3 if you want to browse there: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconstantstateofbladerunner/works

The Butterfly Continuity

- Butterfly - (Complete) The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home.  But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air.  But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.

Or rather, what finds him.

Izuku is stalked by a powerful creature who only seems to be interested in him.

32 chapters.  It’s done.  Beware major character death.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165612/chapters/40360787

- Moth - So how does Hisashi fit into this aftermath?

11 chapters.  Outline complete.  There will be angst.

- Exit Light [hiatus] - A young Toshinori is just starting to feel truly at ease with his master and his role as her apprentice.  But uncomfortable truths come to light once a villain threatens the lives of their entire town with all-consuming darkness.  “Consuming” in this case is literal.

A prequel story that is referenced in Butterfly, but neither are required to understand the other.

4/9 chapters.  Major events outlined.  Warning for heavy violence in ch. 2.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233598/chapters/45733516

For Izuku (Bio Dad Might AU)

- For Kurou - For their own safety, Toshinori must remove himself from the lives of his long-time partner and newborn son.  But they’re never far from his mind.  For years, not a day goes by where he doesn’t write a letter or set aside a gift for their eventual reunion.  It isn’t until he’s spent some time with his chosen successor, a young quirkless boy named Midoriya Izuku, that Toshinori’s consistent dedication to his family is interrupted.

Canon divergence fic.  Streamlined to the important stuff because there are already an abundance of fics like this and I want to focus on my original stuff.   Toshinko.  Family angst with a happy ending.

3/30 chapters.  Strap in.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882870/chapters/54692104

- For a Wider World - Izuku hasn’t decided yet if he wants to go public with his heritage.   On the one hand, he want to make a name for himself, not just as the son of All Might.  On the other, he hates to lie and lying about One for All is hard enough.  Most of the people who know the truth will support whatever decision he makes.  Sir Nighteye isn’t one of them.

10+ chapters.  Basic outline complete.  Internship arc.

- For an End to the Pain - UA is under investigation by the Hero Commission, the world knows about the son of All Might, and the fight with Overhaul has left Izuku severe wounds both physical and mental.  As the weight of all these drastic life changes bare down on him, for the first time ever, he starts to question if he really wants to be a hero.

8-10 chapters.  Basic outline complete.  A whole new level of angst.

- Son Rise - Rumors have been circling of a secret All Might lovechild for a while now.  A new rumor says that All Might will reveal the child as his successor at the next International Heroes’ Summit in Hawaii.  The rest of the hero community has mixed feelings.  

Or, “Izuku goes to another country with his dad and has a bad time.”  Shameless excuse for me to gush about how cool Hawaii was while also hurting my boy.  Some Toshinko on the side.  Family angst with a happy ending.  

11 chapters.  Major events outlined.

Single Fic Dad Might

- Angel’s Egg - Orphaned babies showing up on the stoop of hero agencies is unfortunately not all that rare.  And egg the size of a baby is entirely unheard of. Is the child within just the result of an unusual quirk, or something of far greater, supernatural origins?

Kinda out there au where Izuku hatches from an egg and is raised by All Might.  That question is posed to me, because I’m not yet sure if I want to go down the mundane or supernatural path; I have potential endings for both. 

4/20 chapters.  Structure similar to Full Metal Jacket in that the story will shift gears completely in the second half.  Heavy violence and potential character death

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21009755/chapters/49966448

- The Wails in the Walls - Toshinori was convinced his cottage was haunted from the day he moved in.  He could easily blame the missing objects and little bites in his food on pests, but that wouldn’t explain the faint sound of crying some nights.  

Izuku is a tiny child living in Toshi’s walls who survives by ‘borrowing’ little things.  Gonna jump between angst and fluffy like a seesaw.  Idea originally by @abyssal-glory who graciously gave me permission to use it.

5/21 chapters.  Violence, reference to death, and bugs.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392885/chapters/48368857

- Hanakotoba - Toshinori always wanted a family, but he wanted to be a hero even more.  He figured the family thing would happen naturally, but as the years go by and it doesn’t, he finds himself sinking further and further into longing.  And then he finds the end of his sorrows in his own garden.

Princess Kaguya au prompted by @agent-jaselin.  This one is for sure supernatural.

18 chapters.  Outline complete.  One scene of attempted sexual assault.

- Son of the Sun - Of all the gods, the Sun is the most generous with its gifts

Fantasy au where Izuku is the only child of the legendary son god Toshinori, and gets swept up in the apocalyptic destruction caused by a few other gods’ petty disagreements.

Outline incomplete, no chapter estimate.  This is the new roadtrip au.

Miscellaneous Multi-Chapter

- All but One - Toshinori is given the opportunity to undo over two decades of suffering by going back in time and ending All For One.  And that’s just the beginning.  He goes on to use his knowledge of the future to correct errors of the past, and makes his new reality infinitely better than the one he came from.  Better in every way but one.

Used to be a oneshot, now multi-chapter.  Open to making it an au but not sure yet.  Based on a bittersweet post by @skygemspeaks

10/18 chapters.  This was supposed to be short.  Warning for some violence.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796387/chapters/44597800

- The Necromancer - An unseen villain sets hoards of undead upon Japan.  As a designated disaster-relief shelter and a small fortress in its own right, UA becomes host to both the heroes working to stop the onslaught, and several hundred terrified civilians.  Supplies and space shrink with each passing day, and it seems like the end to the nightmare is nowhere in sight.  Someone is bound to take matters into their own hands.

Zombie Apocalypse AU.  Most of the kids stay within the walls to care for panicking civilians, while the heroes take the fight to the outside.  At first.

10+ chapters.  Some events planned. 

- Habitus - Tragedy forces Izuku back into the custody of his father, who he hasn’t seen in years and has a new family of his own.  They uproot him from UA, separate him from his friends, and, worst of all, expect him to be happy about it.

Formerly called Where the Heart is.  Izuku’s step family from America claims custody of him after Inko passes away, and are less than sympathetic to his situation.  He rebels in every way he can, meanwhile All Might and the other teachers comb for any legal loopholes to get him back.

Less than 10 chapters.  Outlined.

Oneshots

- Spiked - There’s no such thing as a free meal.

Gore headcanon request that got out of hand.  Please read the tags.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062174

- The Road that went Forever - Izuku’s Papa picked him up from kindergarten that day.  He hadn’t done that in a while.

Usually, I write Hisashi as a normal, emotionally distant father.  This is not one of those stories.  A very sad two-shot.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754498/chapters/51902485

And that’s all for now!  Again, please feel free to ask me about any of these ideas! 

[blade-king-luze]

“Lights Through Darkness”

OOC: Alright Anons, you got me. First off, Thank you!! I am so happy you love it! QQ Going in child perspective was a little hard because of their tiny vocabulary.

Second of all, are you reading my mind? Because I have also thought of a concept before you sent this! Unfortunately though, this will have to take place in Luze’s and Luka’s current age since I was already brainstorming ideas. I imagined all or most of their traits become opposites when they grow older. i.e. Luze has a stronger mentality than Luka. And also the best advice giver a brother could have. And Luze is more sleep deprived than Luka. Slightly.

(OOC: A non-canonical story showing more of Luka’s and Luze’s relationship if they get to know more about each other, now that Luze remains on Earth. 

... Listen, these boys deserve happiness even if it means going neck to neck when they argue a lot. Even if the wikis or other information says that they never had ANY affection for each other, I like to make it happen. Then again, there were strong but very subtle hints from Luze in the manga/anime that strongly made me think about their relationship. WARNING: Mild profanity) Feat. Luka Crosszeria

The night rolls in at the Twilight Mansion where Luze now stays and resides after gaining his freedom. Feeling strange yet at ease, Luze finally manages to get a whole night rest. But it doesn’t help that his leftover stress still remains, making him wake up with little less hours of sleep still. The breeze was the only thing to keep him calm whenever he wakes up in unusual hours.

From the sounds of the wind, he hears a familiar song that was being played outside. He sees his brother sitting outside in the courtyard singing a song they used to sing together and Luze sings along quietly in the background. However, in the middle of the song, Luka suddenly stops and thinks to himself within the night. Luze, slightly concerned as he felt his heart heavy all of a sudden, approaches his older twin.

Luka was then a little irritated at his presence, but at the same time he suddenly feels more relieved that it was him alone and no one else within the mansion. Because what Luka doesn’t realize, was that he had a long lost confidant at his side all along from this day on. Someone that actually stops and listens through his pain and sorrow unlike the other Zweilts who still regard him as a stranger.

Listen to Luka’s story as Luze sits and listens and takes in all from what his older brother has to say through his emotions. Something that Luka has coped up for so long as well as a small memory that happened when they were small children.

The night was peaceful while I was getting my nights rest. I never thought I would sleep this long as I have before ... In Infernus, I never had any sleep at all even if time seem to stop down below.  I was always scurrying on about from my duties without thinking of my well being. That was part of being a soldier no matter on The Surface or in Infernus.  However, it was different for those of a higher rank.  Having control of White Magic, I made myself busy and occupied of healing the wounded. It added to the load of many ordeals I had to deal with.

Now it was different since I lived in The Surface. I felt solace at last as I slept well on a bed they lent me along with the room they gave me. I turned slowly to my side, finding a comfortable spot before slipping into a peaceful rest. The wind from the opened window always gave me relaxation and calmed my nerves.

Or, at least I wanted to have a relaxing rest for a moment.  There was also a downfall of being a soldier. If anyone would think that sleeping issues was a problem, that would be one of the cases. I would always think that I was back in Infernus, no matter where I was. I always felt my body awake from a few hours of sleep. 

I guess you can say that I had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Whenever I felt myself awake, I couldn’t go back to sleep unless I can sit down and meditate. It was frustrating for me and getting used to being in a calm time was nearly impossible at this moment, especially having been here for a few months.  I always had to remind myself that I am not in dire times at the moment.  I turned my body slowly once again but facing up. I opened my eyes slowly and sighed heavily. 

My raven, Diomedes, croaked softly as he perked up from sleeping next to me. He gazed at me with a few head tilts. He seemed to be concerned as I reached my hand out and scratched his neck. He fluffed up and croaked once again. I was fortunate to have a companion such as him.  In his raven form, he acts like those “dream catchers” that Humes call them. He made my sleep half easier as he takes all of my nightmares away

Sudenly, Diomedes looked towards the opened window and flew to the window sill to take a peek outside. I blinked towards him as if he sensed something amiss.

I began to hear music. I didn’t know where it came from, but it was a soft melody. I looked out towards the window as the breeze continued through me. It sounded familiar.

I rose myself up with my elbow and listened more carefully.

🎵

That song ... I recognized it ... I never thought I would hear it again. I immediately imagined my days when I was just a child. 

I stared out for a moment until I felt myself get out from bed and walk towards the window. It’s as if I was pulled into some kind of trance. I gently placed a hand on the window sill and looked outward. I was gazing back and forth to see where it resonated from.  Until I caught my eye right below in the courtyard. Diomedes flew to my shoulder and perched.

My brother, Luka, was sitting on top of the railing facing the grand fountain outside. He was the one singing. Singing a melody that I recognized immediately. The song we both had compiled together. 

He kept going for awhile as I kept my gaze at him. Something within my heart stirred. I felt my fingers on the window sill tense. Unintentionally, I chimed in but quietly. I felt my lips started to move on its own. His song compelled me to sing along, but it was my own version to blend in with his. 

This is exactly how I remembered it. That time where I wanted to sing with him when we were little.

I wondered how he can remember such a thing ... It was a long time ago before we became enemies. Those centuries long slipped by as we never seen eye to eye. Yet ...

He remembered this song. I had thought he erased many of the trivial things that tied us together. I had thought he despised me.  Was he the one that completely threw me out?  I felt frustrated and conflicted even more just thinking about it.  Luka would never had that much thought about us ... Would he?

I shook my head. I suddenly had enough with my emotions building up. I thought I would have managed them well but it was the same as it was when I was in Infernus. I let go of the window sill and walked towards the door. Diomedes flew off from my shoulder and perched on top of the metal rod that was built especially for him. However, as I grasped tightly around the door knob, my mind began to calm down. I stood there, hesitating as I tried to hold myself together. I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in and out.

Maybe there was some reason for him to sing that song. My grip on the doorknob loosened as I opened my eyes. I turned it and opened the door quietly as the door creaked. I turned slightly around and looked towards Diomedes.  “Stay here.” I said. Diomedes croaked softly and tilted his head a couple of times. I grabbed my black cloak and draped it over me and proceeded to head out towards him. 

Even though it was faint from every step I take, I can still hear his song behind me as I kept walking. And every step I did take, I suddenly felt more calmer.  Just like those times when we sang together.

Our song ...

---

🎵 -  (Music to read through this)

Luka had stopped playing his instrument as he laid his chin on his crossed arms on top of it. The wind blew gently as he pondered. I wouldn’t know what he was reminiscing about it but whatever it was, it seemed to eat his mind.  I subtly hope he wasn’t brooding.

I hesitated as I saw him in a distance. Eyes forward towards the fountain that made a rushing sound of water along with fireflies that flew next to it. 

I placed both of my hands in my pockets. A part of me doesn’t want to disturb him. I knew how to respect boundaries, even if it was someone who technically abandoned me. It would feel wrong of me to interrupt since I am used to that lifestyle. I never wanted to get in anyone’s way.  But what am I to do when my only sibling is right there in front of me?

I sighed as I felt slightly uneasy and approached him slowly. I was reminded how I was still the youngest between us. Sometimes approaching the oldest relative can be intimidating. But I always knew my place whenever I had to stand up to them. That was always the case with Luka.

“Why’d you stop?” I suddenly said as I kept walking towards him. I saw Luka straightened up a bit as he turned around slightly. “Luze ...” At a quick glance, his face was relieved to see me. But it quickly turned into a scowl as he faced the fountain again and rested his chin again on his arms. “You’re actually the last person I want to see right now ...” 

I subtly scoffed. “Come now. You have to do more than that to easily get rid of me.”  “I could,” He admitted and glanced at me, smirking slightly. “But I’d rather not right now. Not when the Zweilts are around. Especially Yuki.” Of course. Especially Yuki. I shrugged and hesitated. “May I?”

Luka glanced quickly at the spot by him then back at me. “It’s a little too late to say I do mind, isn’t it?” he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes as I walked to the spot next to him and stood there. The breeze whistling was the only sound that resonated along with the flowing waters from the grand fountain. 

“Sorry if I woke you up, if that was the case.” Luka began to say. I shook my head and kept staring off the same direction as he was. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just ...” I looked down. “It’s surprising that you remembered that song.” He looked at me then to the fountain again. “... So what?” I saw his head sinking further a little down on his arms as if he was embarrassed. 

“What made you want to sing it again?” I asked as I glanced to him. He hesitated. He fixed himself up as he put the instrument down beside him and laid his arms on his crossed leg. He sighed slowly and pondered. “To be honest with you, beats me ...” He gazed downward as his hands clasped together. “I guess ... I just didn’t want to forget that I had a twin. All of those centuries that gone by, I felt as if I wanted to force myself to forget. But it just doesn’t happen.”

I kept my gaze at him as I hesitated. I listened to what he had to say.  He continued. “I wanted to keep that song with me. So that I could remind myself. That everything that I had done to this point can’t be turned around. All I can do is to just keep moving forward ... No matter what happens to me. This was the decision that I brought upon myself. Even if ... Even if you and I have to fight or kill each other. I wouldn’t hesitate. But ... I just ...” Luka paused.

“... What made you want to forget?” I asked. He looked away from me as if someone else was there next to him. He slightly shook his head and looked downward in front of him.  “I don’t know either ...” 

As I stared at him, I saw a completely different composure he gave out. He seemed lost. Confused. He would usually stand pridefully and even doing so, berated me during that time.  But he felt out of place. Even I couldn’t comprehend but I didn’t waver. He was never like this to begin with. I felt like our roles seemed to be reversed. Suddenly, I turned my gaze towards the fountain. 

An idea came into my mind. 

“... Wait here for a bit.” I said as I walked away from him. Luka looked up at me confused as I proceeded. He seemed like he wanted to follow, but he stood up steadily and kept his eyes on me. As I went next to the fountain, some of the fireflies flew away while others would fly steadily in their spot. I pulled a hand from my pockets and carefully grasped onto a few of them. The bugs settled in my hand as they crawled within it. I then made my way back to Luka.

He stared bewildered with a cocked eyebrow. I stood in front of him as he kept his gaze on me. I reached out my hand towards him. “... Ready?” He looked at my hand as I released slowly. The fireflies escaped my hand and flew upward. He was taken aback slightly as he kept looking at the floating lights flying up to the stars. Luka scoffed and smirked slightly. “Tch ... You prick ...” I smiled back slightly. “... I can’t believe you remembered that.”  I shrugged as I put my hand in my pockets. “You’re the one who started that. It’s also another memory I had of us. Every time I would stare at the pyreflies back in Infernus ... Did you forget that our names mean Light?” “Shut up.” Luka gently pushed on my shoulder. 

For the first time in awhile, we both laughed softly all the while shaking our heads slightly. It’s been too long ever since we were together like this. We had ceased to laugh ever since we went our separate ways.  Forcing ourselves to think that we never existed in both of our eyes as years go by. It was strange but very nostalgic ...

Luka smiled calmly. His eyes look downward as his face grew into some sort of regret. His smile turned into a wry smile for just a moment. Then it went back to his usual pondering face as he bit his lips. He sighed heavily and sat back down slowly.  I looked back at him calmly. 

He hesitated as he clasped his hands together. “... I don’t know how you do it, Luze.” He began to say. “You seem like that person who would never let go of the past. Yet here I am ... Just trapped on trying to forget everything that troubled me. Just trying to move on.” I listened hesitantly. He continued. “Going back to your question, how you said what made me want to forget ... Maybe I truly wanted to run away from all of it. I mean, I did regrettably but at the same time I never really regretted it. It was something that I wanted for myself. Ever since ...” I saw his jaw tighten slightly.

“Ever since you came across that Hume?” I said. He sighed heavily again but this time, it was shaken.  “I really don’t know why in seven hells I am telling you all of this ...” he said as he shook his head. His lips tightened. He seemed frustrated as he kept his gaze downward. It was silent for a few moments.  “... You miss her, don’t you?” I said quietly. 

He quickly looked away from me and closed his eyes. His hands clenched into fists but he immediately released them as he looked down again in front of him. “... Yeah.” His voice faintly choked as he swallowed. 

I hesitated as I kept my gaze at him. Luka never looked up for awhile. I closed my eyes and sighed. I looked to him once again.  “You sound like you never talked about this to anyone ...” I said, breaking the silence. I saw him subtly shake his head.

I stared at him, wearily concerned. To my surprised, I would have thought he had told anyone about his problems. I would assume that living with the Zweilts would let him at least talk about his situations. Especially with Yuki of all of the Zweilts. But from what I can make out, he seemed to be that kind of person who would give into someone else’s problem. Lending a shoulder to cry on, lending an ear to listen ...

I never imagined Luka was still living the same life I had been in Infernus, no matter where he was.  We both always lend anyone our ways of listening and coping with their problems.  But never our own. 

“... You haven’t told Yuki about what you’ve been dealing with, have you?” I said. I heard him scoffed uneasily and shook his head. He still kept his gaze away from me. “No. Never. Never, Luze ...” Luka said quietly. “I never wanted to drag anyone else to my own issues. Not even him. You know how we were, Luze. We only lived to serve no matter where we go. And I have lived by that ever since ... You know that no one would ever give two shits from what we’ve been through. No matter how much we have done for those we cherish ...” His voice choked once again. He ran a hand through his hair and kept it as he placed his elbow on his crossed on his knee. “I still don’t fucking know why I am telling you all of this ...”

It amazed me how he was behaving now, however I still didn’t flinch. I understood what he meant. It’s true that we had to live the way we are no matter where we go. That was our sole reason to live as a Crosszeria. But ... All this time, I had thought he was living freely. I had thought he would have a more easier time than I was. It turns out that we are still living the same hell no matter where we are. It’s disturbing to say the least.

I steadily took a few steps towards him. “Maybe because we are twins. I don’t know myself.” I shrugged. “But whatever is keeping you from telling anyone about this, especially those who are close to you, I’m all ears.” It was at that moment that I can sense his emotions riling up all together at once. It was similar to how I felt most of the time. I stood directly in front of him.

Luka hesitated as he slowly gazed upward halfway to me. I crossed my arms and looked to him. “I honestly never knew that you kept so much behind you. Only for all of it to come back and this happens.” I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. I opened them again. “There really is no point of holding everything back. I don’t care how much you want to scream, shout, rant about whatever is going on in your head, I will be there ... Just like you have with me.”

Luka lifted his head from his hand and looked at me hesitantly.  I continued. “... You once told me, to let my emotions out when we were young.  So why can’t you?”  He was still silent but he gave out a wry smile. “You know I can’t in front of you--” “It doesn’t matter.” I interrupted. “This is just between you and me. I’m your brother. No one else is around to see you beneath your facade. So what’s holding you back?”

His eyes widened slightly. He scoffed once more and looked away from me in frustration. His scoffs turned into soft laughs. He stopped for a moment and brought a hand to cover his mouth as his jaw clenched. I saw his body slightly trembling as if he was trying to hold back. Suddenly, I heard him sniff a little as he tried so hard to look away from me. But the moon that shown down couldn’t keep him away. His eyes began to glisten. As he closed his eyes, tears began to stream down. He sniffed once more time as he put his hand over half of his face and let out a long sigh. He brought his other hand and covered his entire face until he was hidden from me. 

He ran both of his hands through his hair and settled them within it. Tears fell delicately down as the moon shown every droplet. He began to tremble with each soft sob. I closed my eyes to let him have time.

... How long was he holding this back for? Was there truly no one around to listen to what he had to say? Most importantly, why would he never tell anything about it to the one he loved? Was he afraid of returning back to the past?

I guess he was right on one thing: He lives for the future. While I live from the past.

My eyes began to quiver as I opened them and kept my gaze at him. I walked slowly towards him and took a seat next to him. I remained silent as he continued. His frustrations finally releasing but ever so slowly.  I placed my hand slightly behind him and leaned to him as my shoulder came into contact with his. I looked down.  Eventually, he leaned against me. 

The fireflies from a distance continued to dance and float about. Some flew upward as high as they can as if to reach the stars above. The moon reflected the fountain, creating a distortion from the ripples. The night was our shroud to get away from everyone for just a moment.

Several moments passed as my lips began to move. I began to sing.

🎵

If no one is able to listen to us, then it shouldn’t matter. I suppose Opasts still can’t be trusted no matter how much we tried our best to gain that trust. It was still a cycle of us technically being used, but in our own right. It’s what kept us alive, here and now. Even being able to protect our own loved ones. At this point on, it was still the both of us. I just never thought we would be this inseparable. It still baffles me no matter how far apart we might have been. All of those frustrating moments and all of the hatred that build between us,  It seemed to dissipate slowly but steadily like dust in the wind.

No matter how many people we grow attach to, we still intend to get in each others way no matter how worse or greater the outcome. 

It’s what I keep saying to myself: It’s strange how twins work. Blood ties truly cannot be severed.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Director’s Cut 2: Ralph Anderson

“In interviews I read Mendo aiming for a Gary Cooper type performance, strong, silent type. I think your fics are AU, right? Not much mention of the Terry Maitland case or El Cucuo. So are the fics with the OFC with the child fix-it fics for the loss of Derek in the show? At any rate, I enjoy his fics. 

I read the Outsider, I love Stephen King and was cautious about the tv show because Holly Gibney appears in earlier books ( the Bill Hodges series) and I am protective of her character, I think they did her justice in the show and I was truly captivated by Mendo’s performance. You’ve posted stuff about disliking the series. Can I ask why?”

So, I’m gonna tackle this in 4 pieces. 3 for the different tracks I’ve written Ralph under - and then my opinion of the series!

Like with my Andrew one I’m gonna refer to my Readers by their OC names.

1: Trouble (un-named Reader character)

I’ll start with the two sets of fics that include the theme you’re specifically referring to: with Reader and her baby being a replacement for Derek. Very true, I thought it was a good premise for the request given to me; I originally started with something more romantic - without Jeannie where Ralph/Reader end up together, buuuuut I liked it a little more keeping Jeannie there and giving the Anderson’s a child back (as it were.)

Not necessarily AU set though, this particular fic is set before the events of The Outsider the TV show, hence why Jack Hoskins is also kicking around. 😁 My mistake for not mentioning that fact anywhere, but yeah, Terry and El Cuco hasn’t all happened yet, and therefore are kept out.  But, staying on the ‘replacement for Derek’ and ‘lack of mention of Terry & El Cuco’ theme...

2: Harmony & Renee Andersson: ( Sure Be Cool If You Did / Bienvenue From Hell, Mon Amour / Made in the USA / Cold Night / I Could Not Ask For More / Thank you Muppets, No More Questions! / Under The Weather)

This is where I started with Ralph, roughly a year ago before the show came out. I’d read the book, the trailer was out and I wanted to write for him and the character I’d come up with as his S/O - Harmony.  With all I had to go on at the time really the book, we retain all Book!Canon names, settings and personalities/relationships in this series.

Because I removed Jeannie & Derek entirely (no divorce or deceased children here!) yes, this is certainly AU set. The reason why El Cuco and Terry get fleeting 1 sentence mentions (often just referred to as “The Impossible Case”) is because this AU is set after the events of The Outsider.  Harmony transfers to Flint City as a new Detective and replaces the now deceased Jack Hoskins. Although she’s much more Ralph’s partner than he was.

Because I wanted to keep that family dynamic / fatherly thing that Ralph has going on. And because I hadn’t really explored it before, Harmony has her adopted daughter, Renee... and so she kinda replaces the ‘Derek’ factor! 

The Andersson / Anderson thing is intentional, more importantly the R.Andersson / R.Anderson thing is intentional  😁 It’s a good source of banter, and things I have yet to write! *ehem* proposal fic anyone? *ehem* 3: Dia (Shifter!Reader) -  Halfway Home / Control (3rd part coming soon)

This is really the only series where I go into detail about the Case - although ‘Halfway Home’ only really gives a quick skim over of all the events of the show as again, the majority of this is set after The Outsider - but is more directly influenced by what happened in the show than my ‘main’ series is.

Again, Derek and Jeannie don’t exist - and Dia and Ralph have been together four years prior to the events of the series. So, yes! AU, but show AU rather than book AU this time as we retain the same characters, personalities and settings from the show.  This started as more of a ‘what if’ exploration. “What if you found out your S/O was a mythical being?” and then also got to explore the “Well, Ralph’s just encountered one and it wasn’t good. What is his reaction to her going to be?”  And I like the good / evil black/white and also ‘grey area’ twist I get to put on this series as well as other themes I get to explore surrounding trust, and the depth of your love for someone, why people lie about things, and that idea of ‘not judging a book by its cover’ or... ‘tarring everyone with the same brush’ (or whatever you’d want to call it). Kinda... ‘love and consequences’.

I got to explore ... uhm... explain? a lot more of Show!Ralph’s personality in this one. I guess it was helpful to me, and also therapeutic! haha! 😅 I ripped out his episode 10 monologue to The Outsider and had him say it nearly word to the woman he’d loved for 4 years (who happens to be a shapeshifter) and it just hit better - side note, the way Ben delivered that gave me chills...

Interestingly although we don’t have a child present, I still tackle the theme of children here. I don’t have a replacement for Derek - but I keep the fatherly Ralph idea present through a look at wanting to, but not being able to, have kids.

4: My Dislike of the Show

I mean I don’t like talking about the fact that I don’t like the show as much as I really want to talk about the fact that I don’t like the show. I know a whole bunch of people really like the show and I don’t want to come across as “that person” or like “you can’t have that opinion!” or... talk bad about something that someone really enjoys, right? I’m also conscious that a lot of the Newer members to the Mendo fam are here because of this show (Welcome guys! It’s so lovely to have you join us 🥰) and I always wish to be kind and helpful towards the newbies! 🙏 I don’t want them to feel like they can’t come talk to me because of my dislike for what brought them to our little fandom.

But it comes down to this: I really, REALLY loved the book. I don’t ever think I’ve loved a book and it’s characters so much. It was my first Stephen King novel and is such a great introduction to his writing. Yes, I basically only read it because Ben was going to be in the show - but, bottom line is I couldn’t wait to see this book be brought to life on screen... And it just wasn’t the same. I get that changes need to be made between page and screen, but I really think they made too many (in many cases unnecessary!) changes. Characters completely changed how they acted, relationships between characters changed because of this. Plot points were scrapped in favour of... new little side stories that didn’t add anything... 

Unfortunately, Ralph Anderson (and as our main character, perhaps also the one they should have just left alone!), suffers from this the most. 

Essentially I will never understand how we got this show from that book. How the writers can read Stephen King’s novel and go “Yeah, this is great but you know what would be better-!” and then... write this show.   I do plan to do an in depth analysis of the shows 10 episodes... Probably next year when it’s been out a year and my feelings have settled...! 😊 And maybe that will help things!

Thank you for asking, I really appreciate it! Actually your ask made me realise that even when I write a character with several different readers to interact with, there are certainly similar themes that I run with for these characters. (Kids, in Ralph’s case for sure.) So that’s been an interesting discovery of my own; thank you for that! 💙 I hope I answered your questions satisfactorily! 🥰

---

I am once again asking for you to ask me Fanfic directors cut questions! I will beg! It’s not beyond me! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

[theoracleparadox]

WIP Wednesday: Andromeda gets caught in her lies... again

The elevator soon came to a stop and Ackers led the way out. Andromeda presumed it was the same floor where the king's office was, although there was nothing different about this floor compared to any other. It was when she spotted two sentry Glaives standing at attention outside of a door that she knew they had arrived. They barely acknowledged Ackers before he knocked on the door, then opened it for Andromeda to walk through.

She entered cautiously, letting Ackers take the lead again. No one sat at the large desk; it was only when she glanced about the room that she spotted Regis standing by one of the large windows. He had taken notice of them when the door had opened. His Shield wasn't present.

Ackers bowed to the king, and Andromeda followed his movement. She still felt awkward with this formal etiquette, but at least she had the privilege of not speaking unless spoken to.

“Thank you, Ackers,” Regis moved away from the window and towards his desk. “Please wait outside.”

The Crownsguard left silently. The king sat at his desk as the door clicked shut, leaning his cane next to his chair. Andromeda sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk. As expensive as the chairs must have been, they were very uncomfortable.

“I hear you've had an interesting night so far,” Regis began, giving a gentle smile. It didn't make her feel any better.

“So far,” Andromeda mumbled.

This was going to be different from the previous meeting. It already was different without Amicita present—that fact made her feel just a little bit better. There was something about him and Leonis that only made her more guarded. They could tell truth from lies, but wouldn't believe the truth. Andromeda had no desire to be honest with them.

As it was, the night's events must have gotten Elshett in trouble with Leonis, and therefore it was what this meeting would be about. Andromeda felt her actions had been innocent enough. Regardless, she had left Elshett's sight for five minutes. A lot could happen in five minutes. It had clearly bothered the Crownsguard, and no doubt her superiors. None of them would understand why it was necessary.

“I've thought over what you said,” Regis went on. “Of course, it's only made more questions. You haven't been straightforward with us.”

This had nothing to do with the gathering. It was must worse than a chastisement for attempting to run away (which she hadn't been). Andromeda had been more honest here than she had ever been in Niflheim. The punishment for her lies would be worse here: she had lied to the king directly, rather than just his underlings. The Imperials had always threatened to hurt Linda if Andromeda wouldn't cooperate, but the Lucians actually had the power to do so. Linda was safe and happy here; the king could take that all away from her, because of Andromeda's lies.

“You know more than you say,” The king's smile faded. At least the cordial pretenses would be dropped. He had been able to see through her lies, too. “More than you should know, and about things you couldn't have found out about on your own. What do you know of the Accursed?”

Andromeda looked at the desk rather than him. “Not much. Just that he possesses magic, and he has some control over Ifrit.”

Ardyn was also full of the Scourge, so much so that he shouldn't be surviving. Andromeda had felt only a little bit of it—two winters ago, he had passed some of that infection on to her. She had gotten a glimpse of just how infected he was, yet he was somehow able to hide it. The only reason he could be alive at all was due to his status as the Accursed, a title Bahamut used that alluded to Ardyn's part in the coming prophecy. The Scourge had nothing to do with Verstael's experimenting.

Mentioning all that would create too many of the wrong questions. The Lucians didn't even have a clue that Andromeda could also heal Starscourge. Knowing how they revered the Oracle here, admitting to that power would cause a backlash. They would accuse her of being an impostor.

“He has a lot of power in the Imperial government,” Andromeda added. “He does whatever he wants.”

“So you were close to him,” Regis noted.

“I saw him once or twice before the final encounter,” She lied, despite being caught in her previous lies. “He was upset when I used my power. But he's just Bahamut's pawn.”

“You have also spoken with the Draconian more than either of you will admit,” The king acknowledged, moving on. Andromeda thought that would upset him, as only he was supposed to communicate with Bahamut, but he only seemed more curious. “He was the one who told you about the Accursed. But why?”

She didn't answer. Regis ought to have known that was a question for Bahamut. She didn't want to go into what had been spoken between her and the god. It mattered little at the moment.

“He's not the only Astral you have encountered,” He continued. “You must have seen others, for the power you possess and how much you know.”

Andromeda still remained silent. He wasn't wrong, but he also wouldn't know of Etro. Even if she had once been the patron deity of his family, countless generations ago. She had never found a book that mentioned her.

“You're protecting someone,” Her silence didn't deter Regis, but he always waited for a response. Unfortunately, they were on a topic she couldn't easily lie about. “No one outside of the royal lines is supposed to possess magic, unless a king bestows magic onto them, of course. Your magic is not something I've sense before. It's old, dark, and intense.”

It was the first time anyone had claimed to sense Etro's Blessing. It made sense that one magic user should pick up on another's power, though. Regis was onto something, and Andromeda didn't particularly like it.

“I am not your enemy,” He insisted when she still said nothing. “I want to help. I am not bound by Bahamut's will.”

“I don't need your help,” Andromeda asserted. The last thing she had wanted was the king involving himself. He didn't look as though he could offer much help: he was old and used up. He was just a prattling fool, only a little smarter than the Emperor.

Yet Regis was one of the few people that knew the prophecy so well—much more than the Imperials thought they knew, and they were not involved in it. Which reminded Andromeda of one facet she didn't know anything about: who was the Chosen King?

It was the king's turn to be silent for a moment, taken aback by her quick remark. Something seemed to dawn on him as he thought for a moment. “There's a seventh god, isn't there?”

Andromeda was silent again. How had he managed to guess in three days what took Niflheim months to witness? It was surprising that the thought would even occur to him; it went against everything the world was taught about its origin in the Cosmogony. Only a fool would consider there to be a seventh Astral, but apparently Regis was not enough of a fool to blindly believe what the canonical Six have asserted for eons.

She wouldn't confirm nor deny his question. Either option was dangerous.

He interpreted her silence as a confirmation of his theory. “You did die that day in Tenebrae, and the god resurrected you. That is who you're protecting.”

Whether she was honest or told a lie didn't seem to matter; Regis knew he had it figured out. Yet if Andromeda kept quiet, he wouldn't be able to think of more questions to ask. At least, that was what she hoped.

“You're safe here in the city,” He assured. He must have known she wanted to leave, and soon—she hadn't exactly been hiding that. Andromeda knew better than to believe the city's walls were impenetrable.

“It's just another cage,” She commented. The king wanted her to remain in his city and never use her powers again. A couple of years ago, she would have been content with that, but it would have just as soon been proven impossible. She wasn't afraid of her powers anymore. They were too useful to not be used at all.

“The Empire will never stop in their pursuit of you,” Regis warned.

“I know,” Andromeda was unbothered by it. “Keeping me here will only cause them to target the city directly. Your walls aren't enough to keep them out. Besides, like it or not, Bahamut has made us enemies. He won't tolerate my being here much longer.”

Especially not so if Etro tried to reach her. The goddess would not enter the city unless it was very important. The last they had spoken, she had warned that the days of the prophecy were quickly approaching. Andromeda felt she had already given all that she could to the king.

Regis hadn't spoken deliberately about the prophecy, but he had alluded to it enough times. The Chosen King had come from his line—he had a son somewhere in the Citadel. Did Regis know that his son was going to be sacrificed?

“We have nothing to do with the prophecy,” Andromeda stated directly, rather than the alluding they had been doing thus far. “We won't help one way or the other.”

Her tone had a finality to it as she revealed just how much she knew. Was that what he was hoping for? Did he think the circumstances around Andromeda's survival would alter the events to come? As much as Etro despised Bahamut's prophecy, she had once admitted that she was not powerful enough to do anything about it. It was best she stayed out of it—the Six had already banished her once.

“You make a strong argument,” Regis acknowledged once he was over his surprise at her sudden confidence. “Though I assure you, we are not enemies. I understand why you may think that. It's clear to everyone that you are not comfortable here. But if I release you, you will not be protected from the Empire.”

“I can handle it,” She wondered if he would truly consider letting her go. Lucis had its own magic, and therefore no need for hers. There wasn't any Scourge in the city. It wasn't as though they had protected her before.

“What of your family?”

“All I wanted to know is that my aunt is here and happy. She's the one that needs protecting.” Andromeda explained. She still did not expect to see her again, and was content with that. It was for the best.

Regis thought for a moment with a frown. “I'll consider it. You may go. Officer Ackers is waiting outside.”

Trying to keep her relief from showing, Andromeda stood from the chair. She bowed, recalling what she had seen Elshett and Ackers do. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Not a moment later, she was closing the door behind herself. The Glaives stirred slightly and Ackers was surprised by her sudden appearance. She assumed they had all stood guard the whole time. From the looks of it, Ackers was not a very interesting person. He began leading her down the hall, towards the elevators again.

“Coffee?” He offered.

Andromeda shook her head. “I'm ready to call it a night.”

She had been ready before the king decided that he needed to speak with her immediately. It had already been late when she and Elshett came back to the Citadel; she didn't know how long that meeting had gone on for. It didn't leave much time left for Andromeda to dreamwalk. She already felt too exhausted to accomplish much.

Once at the elevators, they went down a couple of floors. It wasn't a long walk before they came across a door guarded by a Glaive, which Andromeda was beginning to recognize as her room. She hoped she didn't have many more nights left of her stay.

After a brief good night, she was finally alone. As much as she wanted to just crawl into bed, she took a shower first as a way to relax after everything that had happened.

Andromeda still expected some trouble from the gathering in the Galahdian neighborhood. Why else did Elshett have to rush off to speak with Leonis as soon as they returned to the Citadel? She hoped Elshett wasn't in too much trouble with her superiors for her little stunt. Leonis and Amicita weren't pleasant men.

In speaking with the king alone, Andromeda had been more honest with him than she had wanted to be. At the same time, though, she had to admit that it hadn't been as bad as she had thought it would be. Lucis wasn't Niflheim. Regis might listen to her—even if she had said some things he hadn't wanted to hear.

Keeping the shower short, Andromeda finally flopped down onto the bed. She felt her exhaustion even more intensely. Still thinking back to her meeting with the king, she decided to just go to sleep.

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Goodnight and Joy Be to You All

Summary: You get into an accident and have a choice to make. 

Features: Description of injury; The Good Place spoilers; non-canon compliant MCU; non-canon compliant The Good Place; technical character death?

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Notes: I just started watching The Good Place and this happened 

Word Count: 2878 + a bonus 177

Somehow, you never expected it to go like this. It seemed almost anti-climatic. You had been in the city, away from the compound, buying a gift for Christmas, the first since the Blip. Steve had made the decision to stay, something that still surprised you. It wasn’t to say you weren’t grateful, you were. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t expected him to take advantage of the opportunity in front of him. Bucky had cautioned you of as much. 

But it seemed now that it was all for naught. You lay on the pavement in midtown Manhattan, screams around you as you’re helpless to do anything. A cab sped through the red light and you had been directly in its path. You only felt pain. You felt like something had pierced your skin. You managed to get a glimpse of your abdomen, where a piece of metal was protruding. You felt yourself drifting, too panicked to think of anything else as a medic attended to you.

“Shit, shit we’re losing her!” was all you heard as it grew harder to stay alert. 

You woke up, but you weren’t sure where you were. You were sitting on a couch. A man with white hair and glasses popped his head out of the door, calling your name.

“Normally, I’d be explaining to you where you are, but you aren’t anywhere. You aren’t in the Good Place nor are you in the Bad Place or the Medium Place. You, my friend, are in limbo,” Michael said. The blonde woman beside him gave him a look and you got the feeling he was withholding some information. 

“Limbo?” you asked. The last thing you remembered was getting ready to cross the street in midtown after running some errands. You had found the perfect present for Steve and the next thing you knew you had woken up here. You had to be in some weird dream. 

“Very rare. See, normally in your universe you go somewhere else and the Soulworld exists in...anyway that may be too complicated for our purposes here. All afterlifes across dimensions and universes are connected in someway. You happened to end up here. Limbo. You’re not alive, but you aren’t dead. You have a decision to make. And as part of a...court agreement...we’ve been assigned to help you make your decision,” he said.

“When you say ‘we’ who exactly do you mean?” you asked. 

“Hi. Eleanor Shellstrop. Nice to meet you Miss Renegade ma’am. Big fan of your work. Always wanted to be like you Avengers...well, where I’m from you’re in a movie and your actress is kind of a bench, honestly I probably would have gotten along with her. Anyway, my friends Chidi, Tahani, Jason and I are going to help you decide. Janet has created a place for us to work through this,” the blonde woman said. If you weren’t so confused and concerned, you probably would have been amused. 

“Is my actress at least attractive? Sam and I kind of have a bet on who would play us if an alternate universe existed where our lives were action movies,” you said. You might as well have fun with this. Whatever this was. Eleanor looked at you and grinned.

“Dude, she was slamming,” Eleanor said. She led you out of the room and out to the outside. It was a grassy area. It reminded you of the lake outside of Tony’s cabin. You screamed when someone appeared beside you. 

“Janet, I thought we talked about this whole just appearing thing,” Eleanor said. She introduced you to the three others who would be helping you and explained who Janet was. 

“She reminds me of FRIDAY,” you said.

“Is Friday hot? I bet she’s hot,” Jason said. Eleanor smacked his arm. You blinked as you looked at him. He seemed to be a few crayons short of a full pack. 

“Jason, not the time,” she said. You had to laugh at it. Your heart ached a little bit. The dynamic at play reminded you a bit of home, of your friends, your family. 

“Friday is an AI designed by Tony Stark,” you said.

“Dude...you know Tony Stark? How did Infinity War go? I kinda died before it came out. Black Widow is so sexy,” Jason said. You just looked at him and then at his friends.

“Really?” you asked, crossing your arms. You tried to remind yourself that to him, your life was fiction. It didn’t help in the slightest. You were an Avenger and you could think of multiple ways to get him to shut up. Was murder frowned upon in limbo? Could you murder someone while you were in limbo? You had so many questions. Eleanor and Chidi shared a look before Eleanor spoke. 

“He’s...from Florida,” Eleanor said. You nodded in understanding. That explained a lot about the man. While you were still annoyed with the man, you couldn’t fault him for being from Florida. Something about that state just brought out the weird in people. You, Tony, and Bruce had once hypothesized that if it wasn’t the water, then maybe there was some lost alien tech buried somewhere in the Everglades or something. There was no way the state was just like that, you thought. 

“Was this Tony Stark wealthy? I knew the man who played him in the movies! Robert always did throw the best parties. And oh, that Chris Evans, I went on a date with him once, but, I was too much woman for him,” Tahani said. 

“Right. So. Michael mentioned something about me making a decision. Can’t I just decide and that’s it?” you asked. Chidi sighed. You looked at him curiously as he gestured for you to sit on a bench that appeared out of nowhere.

“Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple. The rules of limbo demand you weigh your options before making your decision. Really evaluate your life. We can look to philosophy to help with this decision,” he said. 

“Does anyone else find it funny that he’s the one telling her to make a decision? No? Just me?” Tahani asked. 

“Not the time,” Eleanor said. Chidi requested a chalkboard from Janet and it appeared. He divided it into two sides. Reasons to return to your body and reasons to move on. He handed you the chalk and you stood, walking up to the board. You thought for a moment. Under the ‘reasons to return’ side you put family.

“Okay, why family?” Tahani asked.

“It’s not my blood family. We’ve...we’ve already lost a lot this year. The last five years. The Snap, the Blip, fighting Thanos a second time, losing Tony, losing Natasha. I don’t know if they can lose me too,” you said. 

“Someone certainly thinks highly of themselves,” she said. You glared at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“Wait...Iron Man and Black Widow die? Man! I want my money back!” Jason said with a groan. Everyone turned their heads to look at him. You were three seconds away from smacking him upside the head yourself. You took a breath, reminding yourself that where he was from, you and the rest of the team were simply fictional characters.  

“It wasn���t an insult if that’s what you’re thinking. I simply mean that you are so confident in your relationships,” she said. 

“Right,” you said. You added more reasons to the board, avoiding putting anything on the side for reasons not to return. It didn’t take long for them to call you out on it.

“There must be some reason you wouldn’t want to go back,” Eleanor said. 

“No, nope. I want to go back,” you said. 

“You’re scared of something,” she said. 

“Things are only just getting back to normal. Half the universe was wiped out for five years. We lost good people to bring them back,” you said quietly. 

“And you helped do that,” she said. You nodded.

“I think we need to bring in some help,” Chidi said. You looked at him, about to ask him what he meant when you saw two people you thought you’d never see again walk out of the cabin. You stumbled backwards in disbelief. Walking down the stairs of the cabin were Tony and Natasha. 

“Holy fork...fork...what the fork,” you said. You were definitely not saying fork. 

“Oh, right. You can’t curse here because technically limbo exists as part of the Good Place. And there’s no cursing in the Good Place. You get used to it,” Eleanor said. You walked toward them. You felt tears stinging your eyes.

“Is...is this real? Or is this a creation of this dimension?” you asked, your voice breaking. Tony didn’t respond. He just wrapped you in a hug. You sobbed as you wrapped your arms around him. He felt real. You felt Natasha’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“They pulled us from our own afterlife for this, kiddo,” Tony said as you pulled away. You looked over at the group.

“I swear, if this is a forking joke, I will forking kill you all. I don’t care how dead you already are,” you said to them. 

“Forking? Just say forking...what the fork?” Tony asked. Natasha seemed amused by it. 

“We’re technically in the Good Place or something? I don’t know. I wasn’t really listening when Eleanor explained it to me. Considering this isn’t our universe’s version of the afterlife,” you said. 

“You’re not dead yet. You’re in limbo. And you need to decide,” Natasha said. 

“But I did decide. I want to go back,” you said. She sighed.

“Your decision has to consider both sides. The universal fabric won’t accept it until it’s satisfied that you really thought it through,” Natasha said. 

“How do you know that?” you asked.

“When they came to bring us here, they explained it to us. So, let’s talk. What reasons would you have for not returning to the Earth?” she asked. 

“There aren’t any,” you said. She raised an eyebrow.

“Go on vacation recently?” she asked. 

“Nat, we don’t do vacations. And I wouldn’t consider death a vacation. It’s kinda permanent. Except y’know when Thanos snaps half the universe out of existence and we bring them back. Oh, except for you,” you said. She put her hands up.

“I did what I had to. We all knew there were risks to our mission. You’re deflecting,” she said.

“If I chose to stay here. Would I see you and Tony? Would we ever see the others again?” you asked. She touched your face, a comforting gesture.

“Our universes’ version of this is different. We would be able to see you whenever you wanted, whenever we wanted. We would see them again,” she said. You nodded.

“Tasha...do you regret it?” you asked. She shook her head, taking your hand in hers as the two of you sat on the bench. 

“No. I could never regret that decision. Not if it means we brought everyone home and from what I heard, we did. We won. We can all rest now,” she said. You closed your eyes as you took a breath. 

“What about you Tony?” you asked, looking up at him where he stood. He gave you a sad smile.

“Do I regret that I won’t see Morgan grow up? Sure. She’s my kid. Of course I wish I could be there for her. Do I regret that I put an end the Thanos? That sacrificing myself means that the universe is safe from him? No. I don’t. I would choose to sacrifice myself every time, kiddo. Every time,” he said. You felt tears stinging your eyes again. You stood and wrote on the other side of the board, your reasons for staying in the afterlife. There were two. You would get to rest. You would also be reunited with Tony and Natasha. A light started to engulf you. You started to panic and it faded. The four people you had forgotten were there all groaned.

“You almost made a choice. Almost,” Eleanor said.

“She might be as bad as Chidi when it comes to making a decision,” Tahani said.

“Hey!” Chidi said. 

“You know I’m right,” she said. You looked at your two friends. You knew what decision you were making. You just needed to do something first. You hugged Natasha and Tony one last time. Natasha gave you a message, you just hoped that you would remember it. You made your way to the four people who had been tasked with helping you.

“Do you think I have a chance with Black Widow?” Jason asked you. You gave him a look.

“Dude, she isn’t even in this universes’ afterlife. So. No. Besides I thought you two had a little something going on?” you asked pointing between him and Tahani.

“No...no, why would you think...no,” Tahani said. 

“Sure Jan, sure,” you said with a smirk. You felt the warmth again, just before you saw the light starting to engulf you. The last thing you saw was Tony and Nat, watching as you disappeared. When you woke up, you felt pain. The room was bright and had the sterile smell of a hospital. Someone’s hand was in yours. When your eyes focused, you saw Steve. You couldn’t speak with everything you were hooked up to, but that was quickly dealt with. His eyes were shining with tears.

“Thought we lost you for a bit there,” he said. You nodded, taking a small sip of the water he held to your lips. 

“I was...was in a weird place. I saw Tony and Nat. Nat said, she said to tell you Box 107 in Metuchen, New Jersey. Said you would know what it meant,” you said. She had told you two things. One to tell Steve that. The other was a message for Clint. Recognition flashed across Steve’s face.

“You really saw her, huh?” he asked. You nodded. 

“It was so weird. Some dude named Michael said I was in Limbo. And there were these four people who had to help me but they weren’t from our universe they were from an alternate version. Something about a court order...I didn’t think the afterlife had a justice system,” you said. You had a steady stream of visitors while Steve stayed by your side. When Clint showed up, that was when you asked Steve to leave the room. He didn’t want to.

“You only just woke up after being out for a week,” he said.

“Steve, remember what we talked about earlier?” you asked. He sighed.

“Fine, but I’ll be right outside,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay dear. Run along now,” you teased. He shook his head as he chuckled. When you and Clint were left alone it took you a minute to find your words.

“I was in Limbo. I don’t care if you believe me or not, Clint, but, I saw her. And I saw Tony. They helped me make my decision. Tasha told me to pass along a message. She wants you to know, she doesn’t regret her decision. That it was worth it if it meant you got Laura and the kids back and that they didn’t lose you in the process. She wants you to know how thankful she is for everything you did for her. And then she told me if you don’t believe me to tell you that ‘you and I remember Budapest very differently’ whatever that means,” you said. Clint just pulled you into a hug. You yelped as it pulled on some of the things you were hooked up to.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. The two of you fell into light conversation before Steve returned. He had real food with him. In that moment, you weren’t sure who or what you were more in love with, Steve or the burger he set in front of you. 

“Easy, you need to eat slowly,” Steve said. 

You were going to be spending a few more days in the medical wing. Thought the compound had been destroyed by Thanos, it had been rebuilt in the aftermath. You had been transferred from the hospital in the city to the compound after you had been stabilized. 

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asked when he came in to check on you. He had finally convinced Steve to leave for longer than thirty minutes. 

“Tired, confused. I don’t know if it was some elaborate dream or not. It felt real though. Seeing them,” you said. 

“What was it like?” Bucky asked. You laughed a little.

“Weird. I was in a place called Limbo, which is apparently a catch all place for every universe. The people helping me were from a different universe where our lives are fiction. This guy Jason from Florida asked if he had a chance with Nat. It was all so bizarre. Apparently it’s all connected and I don’t fully understand it. Honestly I stopped paying attention halfway through the explanation,” you said. Bucky just laughed at the ridiculousness of what you were saying. You fell asleep that night feeling at peace for the first time since the dust had settled from the battle with Thanos. 

Bonus:

“You think she’s getting it on with the Winter Soldier or Captain America?” Jason asked when the woman disappeared. Tony and Natasha shared a look. 

“Jason...you know what, never mind, I don’t want to know,” Chidi said. 

“Alright, Breakfast Club, are we going to be sent back to our afterlife now? I was in the middle of something,” Tony said.

“If you go back into the cabin, a portal should be there that will take you back to your universe’s afterlife,” he said. 

“Is she going to be okay? Will she remember this?” Natasha asked.

“As far as living, yes, she’s going to have another chance. But we don’t know if she’ll remember being here. That’s not something we decide. We’re just humans who got sent to the Bad Place who then tried to get into the Good Place...and...you know what, I don’t think that’s important,” Eleanor said. Natasha looked at her skeptically but she wasn’t going to question things. She was ready to get back to where she belonged in her own universe.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Christmas Special Villains

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Much like I did for Halloween, I wanted to do a bunch of one-shot or at the very least minor Christmas villains, which presented me with an interesting problem – most Christmas specials don’t really have villains. Usually the main obstacle to overcome in any holiday special is some sort of emotional fault of the main character, a lack of belief in the spirit of the holiday, or something to that effect, and when there is an actual villain, it tends to just be ones from the show at large with a Christmas-related scheme. Like I’m not doing Princess Morbucks or the Kanker sisters for this.

Luckily, There were a few I was sure on, and I managed to scrounge up a few more to deliver five lovingly-wrapped holiday villains. We have:

Mrs. Claus from The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy

Ghost Writer from Danny Phantom

Robot Santa from Futurama

Edna Jucation and the Faculty Four from Codename: Kids Next Door

The Woodland Critters from South Park

Here’s the most interesting thing: Despite Christmas stories tending to lean more towards internal conflict and self-reflection, when they do have actual, tangible threats like these, they tend to be honestly and genuinely great. This is in stark contrast to A lot of the villains from the Halloween specials, who tended to just be big scary baddies without much oomph to them.

Actor: Mrs. Claus is portrayed by Carol Kane, an incredibly prolific actress who you may know best as Valerie, the wife of Miracle Max from The Princess Bride. And much like in that film, she manages to be as enjoyable and funny as the guy playing her husband, which is a tall order indeed – in that film it was Billy Crystal, and in the special it’s Gilbert Gottfried.

Ghost Writer is portrayed by Will Arnett of all people. This was post-Gob Bluth but pre-Batman and BoJack, so while not unknown by any stretch it’s definitely weird to go back and see him in a Butch Hartman action cartoon of all places. He does a great job, as to be expected; when has he ever done poorly?

In his first appearance, Robot Santa was voiced by none other than John Goodman. Normally I’d say Goodman would be perfect for the role of Santa, but… this one’s a maniacal robotic serial killer. It’s a wonderfully jarring juxtaposition. After that, John DiMaggio gave Robot Santa a voice for his other appearances, and he does a good job for sure. Obviously he’s no John Goodman, but really, who is?

Edna Jucation is voiced by Candi Milo, and the Faculty Four are played by Dee Bradley Baker and Darran Norris; Baker is the Unintelligible Tutor and Thesaurus Rex, while Norris is Mr. Physically Fitastic and the Human Text. These are all top-tier veteran voice actors, and they do a fine job, but I can’t particularly say they really make any of these characters stand out or be memorable, which is a shame.

As to be expected, the Woodland Critters are voiced by Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Big shock there. Even less shocking is that they are perfectly funny as these depraved animals.

Motivation/Goals: Out of all of these, I think it’s really fitting that Mrs. Claus is the one with the best motivation. As the HEAD head vampire in the North Pole, she has turned Santa into a vampire and put a halt on Christmas because she is overworked and exhausted, having to do all the household chores all year while Santa only works one night. It is absolutely, perfectly understandable that she snapped… but apparently this isn’t even the first time, as Santa mentions at the end this has happened on multiple prior occasions. You think he’d treat her better after the second or third time, but then we wouldn’t have a plot.

I’d say that Ghost Writer and the Woodland Critters are tied for the next spot; both of them have solid reasons for doing what they’re doing. Ghost Writer was just a humble author trying to finish a Christmas story in time for Christmas, but unfortunately this caught the eye of the extremely Scroogey Danny Phantom, who absolutely hates Christmas due to traumatic events caused by his family fighting on Christmas in the past. Danny, in a moment of incredible callousness, blasts the poor ghost’s manuscript to bits and then proceeds to rub it in, which drives GW to breaking the annual truce and using his powers to torment Danny by trapping him in a Christmas story where he and everyone else can only speak in rhyme. It’s honestly hard to feel sympathy for Danny here, but GW does take it a bit too far.

The Woodland Critters, on the other hand, are just utterly depraved… but that’s to be expected seeing as they are the creations of Eric Cartman, inhabiting a Christmas story whose sole reason for existing is to make Kyle look like a tool. In the story, they get Kyle knocked up with the Antichrist. You see, there master is Satan, and they want nothing more than for his spawn to be born into the world. They really just exist as a reason for Cartman to rip on Kyle for being a Jew at Christmastime, as Kyle himself points out in their debut episode.

Edna and the Faculty Four are a bit simple and amusing, as is befitting of a gimmicky villain from The world of the KND. They team up with the Delightful Children because Substitute Teacher’s Day is virtually unknown compared to Christmas, the kind of absurd, wacky reason for villainy you’d expect from a world where some of the most feared supervillains include an evil dentist and a vampire who spanks people. Robot Santa is likewise extremely simple, yet effective: every Christmas he flies down to Earth to punish the naughty – which is everyone except Zoidberg. This is due to a programming oversight that left his standards set way too high, so no one can ever measure up. Except Zoidberg. There’s really not much more to him than that, but really, does their need to be?

Final Fate: Mrs. Claus is redeemed at the end of the special thanks to Billy, who helps her understand the true meaning of Christmas and who heals her husband so that he can apologize. Things seem like they might work out for real this time because now Malcolm McDowell’s vampire is around to help with tidying up, so hooray! Happy ending here!

Ghost Writer gets thwarted because Danny picks up an orange; as Ghost Writer never watched Drake & Josh and thus didn’t realize that “door hinge” is an acceptable rhyme, he was unable to continue writing his story and got beat up by Danny and his rogues gallery and then thrown into Walker’s prison for breaking the yearly truce in the Ghost Zone. At least he got to complete his book?

The Woodland Critters go out when Santa comes in and blasts them away with a shotgun… but since they are technically fictional characters, they show up in Imaginationland to cause problems. Still, it’s reassuring to know they can be taken out with simple firearms.

Edna Jucation, the Faculty Four, and Robot Santa really don’t have any canonical final fate; they just get defeated and then go on their merry way. In Robot Santa’s case, he actually showed up quite a few more times after his initial appearance to wreak havoc, but the Faculty Four and Edna were entirely oneshot antagonists.

Final Thoughts & Score: Christmas honestly fares a lot better than Halloween does as far as I can see. The villains tend to be a lot more thematic, or at the very least they have more personality and thematic function. Halloween doesn’t really have any sort of core themes to work off of as opposed to Christmas, which has a lot of reoccurring themes in works based around it. Still, most of these characters just settle on being funny.

Mrs. Claus and the Woodland Critters are the best of the bunch here, and both earn themselves a spot on the Nice List with a 9/10 each. Mrs. Claus is just a lot of fun, mostly because of the fact she has legitimate grievances on top of being a unique twist on the character. Mrs. Claus as a vampire overlord who commands hordes of vampire elves? That’s the sort of creative wackiness that Billy & Mandy delivered on. The Woodland Critters are just funny, plain and simple, acting as the sort of amusing subversion that could be expected of from South Park in its glory days as well as being totally in line with Cartman’s personality. These are the exact sort of original characters I’d expect from a guy who ground up a kid’s parents and made them into chili, what with their blood orgies and ultraviolence. Amusingly enough, they score a point higher than Cartman did in his own Psycho Analysis, which is mostly due to their limited appearances meaning that they stay remarkably consistent, where Cartman tends to be whatever an episode needs to be, be that hero, anti-hero, or villain.

Next up are Ghost Writer and Robot Santa, who both get 7/10. Ghost Writer is a very amusing oneshot, but it’s honestly weird that out of all the Villains from Danny Phantom, he’s the first one I talked about. You’d think it would be Ember or Vlad or something… at any rate, he’s an amusing antagonist, but he’s also one who it’s hard not to view as being in the right, especially since Danny was just a jerk to him completely unprovoked due to his own personal hangups with the holidays. As usual with fun ideas on the show though he was only ever used once, which is a real shame but at the same time understandable; his gimmick really only works with Christmas, so it would have been weird shoehorning him into another episode’s plot. For what he is, he’s fun.

Robot Santa has a similar problem, not really being able to function outside of Christmas specials, but his few appearances leave him as an amusing antagonist who never really overstays his welcome. He’s not as entertaining or engaging as, say, Mom, but he definitely offers some laughs with his hilarious concept and his ridiculous levels of bloodlust. Points t him for helping out the heroes in the first Futurama movie too.

That just leaves us with Edna and the Faculty Four, and the Faculty Four just manage to scrape onto the bottom of the Nice List with a collective 5/10. They don’t really have much character or personality, especially when compared to the heroic Marvel pastiche that is Elfa Strike, but as brief amusing gag villains meant to pay loving tribute to the Fantastic Four, I think they’re decent. Edna is not so lucky; she’s a bit obnoxious, shrill, and doesn’t really correlate to any sort of Marvel character, which is baffling since the entire episode is one big love letter to Marvel comics. Sad to say, but she’s landing smack dab on the Naughty List with a 2/10. She doesn’t even have a cool gimmick!

I suppose that wraps it up for Christmas special villains. Doing something like this is tough, because it really makes you sit back and wonder what sort of Christmas villains you should put on. Obviously I avoided any theatrical film villains, but that did leave one particularly glaring omission of a villain from a holiday special… a big, green, unpleasant omission. He’s a mean one, for sure...