#is what we call the domino effect

[allastoredeer]

Archangel anon again! Here for those extended Gabriel headcanons. Okay! Gabriel's the messenger of heaven, so i imagine that it's his's responsibility to convey messages between heaven and hell. That makes Gabe the only sibling Lucifer has been allowed to have simi-consistent contact with since his fall. They're not allowed to have long, deep conversations, but they do try to catch up a tiny bit. I see Gabe as a trickster with a heart of gold. Seemingly a charismatic goofball who takes very little seriously. A fast-talking, smooth-talking, ALWAYS talking jokester who can make you want to tear your hair out one second, then charm the pants off you the next. He's the best liar of the family, incredibly good at playing dumb despite actually being quite cunning, strategic, and above all else, PETTY. He is very protective of his siblings, especially Lucifer nowadays (side-effect of being the only sibling allowed to talk to him) and can hold a grudge like no ones business.

But, the main reason I wanted to give special attention to Gabe is because of his patronage. As I was doing research on Gabriel I made a delightful discovery ripe with potential. Remember how I said Gabriel is the patron of communication services? Well another way to phrase it would be he holds patronage over all forms of transmitting information from point A to point B. This includes telecommunications that transmit information through electrical means. Such as telegraph, telephone, internet, and broadcasting. ALL forms of broadcasting. Including both television AND RADIO.😃😃😃

Do you see? Do you see the abundance of potential that I see?? Gabriel is the Patron Archangel of both TV AND RADIO. He holds dominion over

TV AND RADIO

I cannot begin to describe the joy I felt when I made that discovery! Instantly got the brain buzzing.

Alastor and Gabriel have the capacity for either becoming instant best friends or instant enemies and I can't decide which one I like more... Oh who am I kidding, it's enemies. Imagine Gabriel is visiting Lucifer and Charlie and he inevitably buts heads with Alastor. Either Alastor says something snide about Gabe himself, or maybe Lucifer. Meanwhile, Gabe has gone uncharacteristically quiet and just stares at Al for a long moment. Then, an unreadable smile slowly forms on his face and he laughs good-naturedly, slapping Alastor on the back a BIT too hard but otherwise just says "You got me there, buddy" before sauntering away.

But the next morning, Alastor tries to enter his radio tower to do his morning show, only to find the door is locked tight and there's some kind of powerful ward keeping him from shadow-porting in. Then, every radio in hell suddenly comes alive as none other than Gabriel's loud, bombastic voice comes pouring enthusiastically from the speakers.

Gabriel has redefined the term "pirate radio" by not only hijacking Alastor's radio tower, but also literally every radio in hell. And worse, he's turned Al's show into one of those "zany" morning-zoo radio shows. The kind of shows thar are more annoying than funny that always play on the radio on your way to work or school? I imagine Alastor considers those shows a perversion of his medium. And as the cherry on top, Gabe refuses to relinquish control back to Alastor calls in (the number is 1 777 3625, that's 1 777 DMBK🤭) and apologizes ON AIR for all of hell to hear.🤣🤣🤣

You know what, I'm kind of with Alastor on this one.

If someone messed with my passion like that, I would never apologize. I would double down. I'd never stop pushing those buttons, consequences be damned. You want me to say sorry? Nah, bitch, how about you stop being a wuss?

LOL I think Alastor would take a megaphone, plop himself on a rooftop (or just roam the streets) and do his broadcast like that. He'd find himself a soapbox to stand on. You know, the old fashioned way. I mean, depending on if Alastor can control radiowaves, he might be able to hijack one of the speakers he set up all over Hell. He'd pick a new one every day, and diss on ol' Gabe. He'd go into how Heaven keeps repressing the sinners of Hell, first it was the Extermination, and now Heaven's silencing their voices. When will the tyranny end? How long will they put up with this??

LOL Idk now that I'm thinking about it, the idea of Alastor starting a revolution against Heaven purely out of spite is incredibly funny and I love it.

(Also that is really interesting about Gabriel patron of communication 👀 that has so much potential)

[vaguely-concerned]

the fact that irving canonically survives through the end of asunder to be at wynne's funeral is so fucking funny to me. nothing but love and respect for MY unstoppable cockroach morally grey machiavellian mage dad!!! he's survived in his position through multiple attempted rites of annulment and blood mage plots popping up left right and center around him. the chantry keeps trying to stamp him out but his dodge game is simply out of this world, divine. civil wars, political machinations and minefields, chantry atrocities, this wily old motherfucker is dodging and weaving his way through it all, not-quite-no-hits-taken-running-it-but-honestly-close-enough-under-the-circumstances style. if solas does succeed in tearing down the veil I would fully believe that one of the like three people still alive at the end of it all would be a very weary 90 year old first enchanter irving going 'oh this shit again huh'. the maker has cursed him for his hubris and his paperwork is never finished (affectionate, it's fine he canonically loves paperwork)

[faint-taste-of-almonds]

yes there's a lot of things to criticize about Star Wars but one thing i will always love it for is being so unabashedly tragic

i'm sure it's been said before, but one of the main things i think powers the SW fandom (fics in particular) is the (in)evitability of it all

time travel fix-its are one of the most popular sub-categories of fics that i've seen (for the prequels at least) but i see it much more rarely in other fandoms. i know each fandom has their own niches that they dig into but star wars fic writers took one look at this decades long story of people who were doomed from the start and said 'not in my house bitch'

and i'm never tired of it, because there's so many places where just one different action could have changed the story entirely, but didn't

was it over the moment Palpatine succeeded in feeding Anakin's fears and his distrust toward the Jedi? the moment the Sith gained control of the senate? what about when the war started, when the Jedi were made generals of men designed to be their executioners? what about when Dooku left the order? when Qui-Gon Jinn died, leaving barely-knighted Obi Wan Kenobi to raise a child he had no idea how to care for? when the Jedi massacred the Mandalorians at Galidraan, leaving Jango Fett primed (hah) for revenge? when Palpatine, and thus the Sith, first gained influence? when the Jedi were tied to the Republic, all the way back at the Ruusan Reformation?

there are so many little moments that turn into this huge web of cause and effect when you take a step back. and in canon, these characters are dooming themselves while we watch, but what reason do they have to do anything different? they don't know they're in a tragedy - its dramatic irony at its goddamn finest

but there's this thing about decisions: for it to be a choice, there has to be another option. and our heroes make their mistakes because that's what they do, while we aren't privy to that other option, leaving that little what-if. it's a favorite human pastime, to think about what might have been.

we start at episode 4, though, fourty or so years after what you could arguably call the start, and find ourselves watching the dominoes fall in place throughout 1, 2, and 3.

and we can hate the choices, hate the tragedy, hate what happened to our beloved characters, but we knew. we had the luxury of knowing.

it's a love story, it's political intrique, it's sci-fi at its finest, and they were dead from the start.

[loveesiren]

𝖥𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 (𝖯𝗍. 1)

Thanos x american!reader | Forever Masterlist

synopsis: Y/n didn't want to like the asshole that was Choi Su-Bong, but his devilish charm pulled her in. She felt comfortable in his presence and she couldn't deny it. Besides, you could die at any moment, right?

warnings: language, mention of drugs and overdose, mention of suicide attempt, fast burn, death obvi

wc: 2.9k+

As you made your way to the arena, you couldn’t help but notice you were the only American there. Fuck, you thought. However, as the announcements came over the speakers, you were able to piece a few words together. The game was straightforward: Red Light, Green Light. A game you had played back in the courtyard in grade school. Easy.

But before the game started, a man began yelling frantically. You only caught a few words. You’d only been in Korea for a year, and the language was still so new. Despite your dad teaching it to you throughout your life. But you could tell whatever this man was saying couldn’t be good.

“He’s saying we’re all going to get shot if we move,” the purple-haired man beside you whispered. “Dude’s crazy.”

“You speak English?”

“Am I not speaking it right now?” he replied sarcastically. “Look, the game is simple. You—”

“I know how to play,” you snapped back.

The purple-haired boy shut his mouth with a cheeky grin. And with that, the game began.

“Green light!” the doll said as its face turned away. You began to move forward. The crazy man was still yelling aggressively, telling you to freeze and hold as still as possible.

You played the game correctly the next few rounds. You weren’t dead yet, right? You noticed a bee land on the girl in front of you.

“What’s that?” She asked nervously. 

“Don’t move…” You replied.

“You’ve got a bee on you,” the purple-haired boy said.

The girl in front of you began to scream and jump around, shaking the bee off of her. “Oh shit, I guess I just moved, didn’t I?” she laughed.

Before you could process anything, a bullet whizzed through the air, striking her right in the back of the head, killing her instantly. Blood splattered on you and the boy, and you held your breath, too afraid to move.

People began to run and scream as they noticed what happened, but you remained still and wide-eyed, a tear slipping down your cheek.

The announcer repeated the rules of the game after the massacre that had just happened behind you. The doll turned around once again and said, “Green light!”

You were still frozen with fear. “I’m Thanos,” the purple-haired boy said as he grabbed your hand.

“Y-Y/n,” you responded with shaky breaths.

“Y/n.” He repeated your name, pulling you out of view from the doll. “Stay behind me, alright?”

“Okay,” you managed, before the doll spun its head again, “Red light.” You clung to Thanos’ hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your fists as you tried to steady your breathing.

Before you knew what was happening, he had shoved the person in front of him, causing a domino effect of people to fall. He looked proud of himself, and you were appalled.

“Thanos, what the fuck?!” you gasped.

“Shhhh.”

“Green light!” the doll said, and Thanos pulled you forward with him. He seemed almost like he was having fun as he pulled you through each round, still guarding you with his body every time “Red light” was called.

Finally, the finish line was in sight. There were people who had already made it and people getting shot behind you. All of it was too overwhelming. When the doll finally announced “Green light,” you allowed Thanos to pull you across the finish line, falling on top of him as he did so.

“We’re safe! We’re good!” he said with a smile as he held you close to him. You hadn’t realized the way you had been clinging to him for protection. When you came to, you stood up.

“Why would you do that?! Why would you push those people?!”

“It’s a game, señorita,” he smiled.

He was right. It was a game. A game for your lives. But that still didn’t give him the right to dictate the outcome of others. You were overwhelmed with emotions and felt like you were going to vomit. You ran to the corner of the arena to be alone, covering your ears as gunshots rang out amongst the final few people trying to cling to survival.

And soon, the game had ended.

“Y/n,” Thanos’ deep voice rumbled softly behind you, an unusual gentleness in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone!” you screamed, your voice cracking as you bolted toward the exit. You didn’t look back, following the others streaming out of the arena, their faces pale and haunted.

Back at the dormitory, you retreated to your bed, pulling the thin blanket over you like a shield. Your chest heaved with suppressed sobs, but no tears came. The sterile air of the dorm felt suffocating, thick with despair. 

A while later, the pink guards entered, their commanding presence silencing the room. They made an announcement in their clipped, robotic voices. From what you could piece together, it was a choice: stay in the game or walk away.

The man who had been frantically screaming earlier—warning everyone they’d die—was the first to vote. His trembling hand pointed to the X. He didn’t want to play anymore and he urged others to vote the same.

When your turn came, your heart pounded in your chest. The memories of the arena—of the screams, the blood, the chaos—rushed back, threatening to drown you. You didn’t hesitate. You voted X. The guard handed you a red patch with an X on it, the fabric feeling heavier than it should as you pinned it to your hoodie. Silently, you joined the others who had chosen to leave.

As you moved to the right side of the room, your eyes met Thanos’. He stood at the front, his broad shoulders tense. He voted O. Of course, he did. Your chest tightened as he glanced at you, a fleeting look of remorse flashing across his face before he joined those who had chosen to stay. You bit your lip, fingers instinctively reaching for the small dolphin pendant around your neck. Your father had given it to you when you were ten, during a trip to SeaWorld. It was one of your happiest memories. Now, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever see him—or that simple, joyful life—again.

Later that night, unable to sleep, you wandered to the bookshelf in the corner of the room. To your surprise, a few books in English were tucked among the volumes. You chose a romance novel, something light to distract you from the heaviness pressing on your chest.

“Señorita, excuse me?” A familiar voice broke the silence.

You froze, closing your eyes briefly before turning. “What do you want, Thanos?”

He hesitated, his towering frame oddly hesitant. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize?” you repeated, your voice cold. “Thanos, people died because of you. How can you even begin to apologize for that?”

His jaw clenched, his hands fidgeting with the silver cross around his neck. “I-I wasn’t thinking, okay?”

Your gaze dropped to the cross he kept fiddling with, the sight sparking recognition. “You’re hiding drugs in there, aren’t you? You weren’t thinking because you’re high.”

His head snapped up, his brows furrowing. “What? How did you—?”

“My brother had the same kind of cross,” you said, your voice flat. “He used it to stash his pills.”

Thanos’ lips twitched into a humorless smile. “Smart guy.”

“He’s dead now,” you replied sharply, cutting off his attempt at levity. “Overdose.”

His face fell, guilt painting his features. He rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “I just keep screwing everything up, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” you said, brushing past him. “You really do.”

“Y/n, wait.”

You stopped mid-step, your body betraying you. But you didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice softer this time. “For everything. For what I did in the game, for the drugs… for being a complete idiot. I mean it.”

Silence stretched between you. Then, he added with a faint chuckle, “I swear I’m not normally this bad at talking to pretty girls.”

A reluctant smile tugged at your lips. You shook your head, a small laugh escaping before you walked away. You didn’t look back, but Thanos stayed rooted in place, watching you go, a lopsided smile on his face. For the first time in a long while, you felt the faintest flicker of hope—fragile but alive.

-

Over the next few days, you tried to focus on reading, but it was futile. Thanos’ constant glances from across the room unsettled you, and the looming fear of when the next game would start made your stomach churn. Every second felt like an eternity.

Finally, the guards came to collect you on the third day. The air turned heavy as you followed them silently through the endless halls and staircases to the arena. The game was announced, but your mind struggled to process the words. All you caught was the time limit: 10 minutes to form a team of five.

Panic set in as you scanned the room. Most players barely spoke English, and the few who did were already huddled in groups, or, with Thanos. The crowd of 365 players felt suffocating. You reminded yourself there was still time. You would find a team—somehow. Someone would need you eventually.

From across the room, Thanos’ gaze locked onto yours. You sighed, swallowing your pride as you approached him. His soft smile as you drew near made your chest tighten unexpectedly.

“Thanos?”

“Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted, his voice dripping with that infuriating charm.

“T, just tell me what the game is. Please…” you said, your tone sharp.

His smile widened at the simple nickname, but he obliged, explaining the rules clearly. You thanked him, turning to continue your search, but before you could take a step, his warm hand closed around yours.

“You’re playing with me,” he said firmly. “You’ll be safe with me.”

His confidence left you momentarily speechless. Something about the way he said it—the way his hand lingered on yours—stirred a strange feeling in your stomach. Unable to argue, you nodded and sat beside him.

His friends, however, were less welcoming, especially Nam-gyu, who didn’t bother hiding his disdain. “Why do we need her?” he grumbled. “She’ll just slow us down.”

“English, Nam-gyu,” Thanos snapped, his tone sharp. “She’s on our team. Deal with it.”

“I can pull my weight,” you said, lifting your chin. “I’m good at ddakji. My dad taught me.”

“Your dad?” Thanos asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Do they play ddakji in America?”

“He’s from Korea,” you explained, a small smile playing on your lips.

Thanos nodded, his gaze softening. “Then you play ddakji.” he said with a warm smile.

When it was your turn, your nerves were palpable. You took a deep breath and threw the paper square. It hit the target but didn’t flip. You tried again, but this time, you missed entirely.

“Why’d you let this American broad join us?” Nam-gyu hissed, his voice dripping with contempt.

“Shut up!” Thanos barked, slapping the back of his head. Turning to you, his voice softened. “Y/n, you’ve got this. Deep breaths, yeah?”

His calm demeanor grounded you. Nodding, you steadied your hands, exhaled deeply, and threw again. This time, the paper flipped perfectly. Relief washed over you as your teammates cheered, Thanos’ grin wide and proud.

The rest of the team took their turns, with a mix of successes and fumbles. Nam-gyu’s performance, predictably flawless, earned him his smugness. But it was Thanos’ round—Jegichagi—that held everyone’s breath. He nailed it with a shaky but triumphant five kicks, securing your victory just as the timer ran out.

Cheers erupted as the guards untied your feet. “We did it!” you said, unable to contain your excitement. Without thinking, you jumped into Thanos’ arms. He caught you effortlessly, spinning you around with a laugh. When you realized what you were doing, you quickly pulled back, your cheeks burning. Thanos’ sad smile lingered as you retreated, but his eyes sparkled.

The rest of Thanos’ crew surrounded him, shaking him excitedly and shouting in celebration, but his eyes remained locked on you. Even in the chaos of victory, his focus didn’t waver, leaving a warm, welcoming sensation in your chest. You shouldn’t like him. You didn’t want to like him. But the tingling in your body betrayed you.

When the guards opened the doors, you and the others were ushered back to the dormitory. Thanos’ posse broke off toward their makeshift corner, their laughter trailing behind them. Before they could disappear entirely, Thanos turned and called over his shoulder, “Come with us.”

You hesitated, glancing toward Nam-gyu, whose glare could burn through steel. “I don’t think your friend likes me very much,” you said, gesturing subtly in his direction.

“Nam-gyu’s a dick,” Thanos replied bluntly, a crooked grin softening the harshness of his words. “I want you on our team.”

His casual confidence was infectious, and despite yourself, you smiled. “Okay,” you said, allowing him to take your hand and guide you toward the steps. You sat down, Thanos settling a step below you. He leaned back against your leg, his arm draped protectively around your knee, a silent claim that said she’s with me.

“So,” Se-mi asked, her tone light, “where in America are you from?”

“Las Vegas, Nevada.” you replied. “I grew up there but moved to Korea about a year ago.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that place!” She cooed. “Sin City.”

“Yeah, it lives up to its name.” You chuckle.

“You said your dad is Korean?” Nam-gyu interjected skeptically. “You don’t look Korean.”

You bit back a sigh, already tired of his attitude. “My dad’s technically American. He was adopted by a Korean couple—my grandparents. He grew up here before he went to college.”

“Is that where he met your mom?” Thanos asked, his thumb lazily brushing the skin of your ankle in a gesture that felt far too intimate for someone you barely knew. But you welcomed it.

“Yeah,” you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips as you thought of your mother. “He wanted to reconnect with his culture, so he studied abroad and met her. They fell in love, got married, and had me and my brother.” Your voice faltered at the mention of your brother, but you forced the smile to stay.

“Is your whole family here now?” Min-su asked gently.

You shook your head. “No. My parents divorced when I was thirteen…”

“What about your brother?” Se-mi prompted.

“He… he, uh…” Your throat tightened as the words caught.

“Stop it,” Thanos cut in sharply, his voice brooking no argument. “Let the girl breathe.” He stood and extended a hand to you. “I need to talk to Y/n. Alone.”

Relieved, you took his hand, letting him pull you toward the quiet corner near the bookshelf. You sat beside him, and he took your hand again, the warmth of his touch making your breath hitch.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “About your parents. Your brother.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, though you both knew it wasn’t.

He studied your face for a moment before asking, “Why are you here, Y/n?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t something you liked talking about. “My dad is sick. He needs treatment, and I… I don’t have another way to pay for it. My grandmother is struggling with money and I…” You looked away, embarrassed by the raw vulnerability in your words. “What about you?”

Thanos let out a heavy sigh, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ve done a lot of bad things. I used to be a rapper, I had a lot of fans, but everything I’ve ever done has been a disappointment to my family.” He paused, his eyes darkening. “Before this, I was on a bridge, ready to jump. Ready to end it. Then this guy gave me a card and said I could turn things around. So I came here.” His gaze softened as he looked at you. “And I’m glad I did. Because I met you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you found yourself smiling despite the weight of the conversation. “I’m glad I met you too, T. And I’m glad you didn’t kill anyone today!” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

Thanos chuckled, shaking his head. “I won’t. Not unless I have to—to protect you.”

The conviction in his voice sent a strange flutter through your chest. “T… I think I need to stay for one more game. My dad needs me to finish this.”

He gave you a long look before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’ll be safe with me,” he murmured.

As the remaining players trickled back into the dorm, you and Thanos talked. For the first time, you shared the pieces of yourself you usually kept hidden: your cheating mother, the messy divorce, your father’s illness, and your brother’s death. In return, Thanos opened up about his abusive father, his dreams of making his mother proud, and the way he’d been struggling with drugs and depression for years. By the time the dorm was full again, you no longer saw him as just a cocky survivor. He was someone who had been to the edge of despair and chosen to fight his way back.

When it was time to vote, Thanos’ arm draped lazily over your shoulder as your fingers traced the tattoos on his hand. His presence steadied you as the guard called your number. Before you stood, Thanos leaned close, his lips brushing against your temple. “Remember, I’ll always take care of you,” he whispered.

His words echoed in your mind as you cast your vote: O. The guard handed you a new patch, and for the first time, you felt confident.

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[i-cant-sing]

TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

-

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

-

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

-

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

-

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

-

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.

[carouselunique]

Here you go!

Bonus Explanations for the Elements:

I treat the Elements as the values being the same throughout it's just how the bearers choose to interpret those values is how they end up being defined. In a sense the original Mane Six and the Swap Six all have similar values but express them somewhat differently.

Roseluck: Element of Inspiration - Rose inspires others to be their best selves, she is inspired to strive toward her dreams through her friendships and wants to pay that forward.

(Element of Generosity - Rarity focuses on what she can give to others while Rose focuses on bringing out what one already has.)

Ditzy Doo: Element of Cheer - Ditzy always delivers a smile, a cheesy mail joke, a wing to lean on, a feathery shoulder to cry on so you can feel better, someone to remember you and make you feel seen etc. She makes others feel lighter and cheerier and that cheer spreads to others in a domino effect!

(Element of Laughter - Ditzy doesn't mainly focus on laughter the way Pinkie does because she believes not everyone needs a laugh to feel cheer. Pinkie is more of a clown type while Ditzy is, well, more of a motherly type)

Sea Swirl: Element of Trust - If you put your trust into Sea, she won't let you down. She is honest sort, even if you sometimes have to take a leap of faith that you aren't sure about at first. Sea will uphold your belief in her with a trustworthiness that makes you want to be someone that others trust as well.

(Element of Honesty - AJ treats her Element as a very literal value while Sea doesn't feel the need to say every true thing outloud, more that you know that she is someone who's words and actions you can inherently trust even if she isn't always literally honest.)

Ginger Gold: Element of Integrity - No matter what ambitions Ginger has, she will always have the integrity to stick by her friends and family and do the right thing. Her integrity and willingness to do what's right by those she cares for no matter what even at the cost of her own goals makes everyone around her a little more honorable in turn.

(Element of Loyalty - It's nearly the same here more just that in my head, Rainbow will be loyal to her friends because they're her friends while Ginger Gold will have integrity because it is something she believes one should just always have and by having that she can be loyal to her friends - not to say one is more noble than the other, that is just how they see it if they're asked to really define it.)

Sunny Rays: Element of Empathy - Sunny is, as her name suggests, as warm as the sun. She is soft and understanding and empathetic and seeing everyone as being worth a chance at being seen and their issues felt allows everyone a kinder view of situations.

(Element of Kindness - Sunny Rays sees empathy as different than kindness, especially as she develops. She can have empathy and not always be kind as someone might see it and someone can be kind but not understand the point of view through an empathetic lens and therefore be kind but not empathetic. Of course it's a struggle to balance how to be kind and empathetic or when kindness has to stop because you know it is hindering your understanding of a situation, etc.)

Minuette: Element of Friendship - Her friendship brought the group together and allowed them to share their best values with each other and her realization that you should make time not just for academic exploration and what we can discover but for the cultivation of emotional and social development and that we need our connections with others to be truly happy helps other realize what truly counts.

(Element of Magic - In my head, Twilight calls it Magic because she believes that Friendship is a form of Magic a flaw that shows up in the later seasons where friendship is treated as something inherent and almost religious in a sense? At least to me? While Minuette believes that the Magic comes second to the Friendship and can only occur if one works on Friendship and treats the Magic of Friendship as something you work at and feel more than it is literal magic.)

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for wring amputees: its ok if your amputee can't repair their own prosthetics

There's a trope in fiction for amputees to always be these mechanical geniuses who can make and repair their own prosthetics, endlessly tinkering away and improving them. This isn't a particularly trope, and i dont think its harmful or anything, but in reality, prosthetics are REALLY, REALLY complicated, and a lot of amputees cant do their own repairs. And thats ok. Like, prosthetic creation and repair is way, way harder than I think people expect. Well outside the skillset of your standard mechanic, handy man or craftsperson.

People who make and repair prosthetics are called prosthetists. To become a prosthetist, most countries around the world today require you to have completed a bachelor's degree in specifically in prosthetics and orthotics, which covers not only how to make a prosthetics (and orthodics) but a great deal of medical knowledge, physics, how different forces impact "non-standard" bodies, the additional biological wear-and-tear that comes with being an amputee and so much more. This will qualify you to do the job of fitting/making the prosthetic socket (the part that attaches to your body) and putting premade components together to make a functioning device. On top of this, many prosthetists are also expected to have artistic skills, sewing skills, good physical strength and dexterity, IT skills, and more recently, knowledge of 3D modelling and printing.

You want to make all the high-tech components the prosthetists put together to make the full prosthetic? The requirements for that vary country to country, but most will require at least some level study in the field of engineering and/or medicine, on top of what was already required for the prosthetics course.

The reason for all this is because even "basic" prosthetics are extremely finicky, and messing up one thing will have a domino effect on the rest of the body, especially in more complicated prosthetics. It can also result in people getting severally injured if anything is even slightly off. many leg amputees for example end up with spinal issues due to extremely minor issues with their prosthetic that weren't caught until years later, and by then the damage had been done.

Some amputees do learn to do basic repairs. This is most common in places like the US, where a visit to the prosthetist can cost hundred to thousands of dollars (depending on your insurance), but it's also quite common in rural parts of countries like Australia, where cost isn't an issue but access is due to vast distances between major cities. I was personally in this category; as a kid, my nearest prosthetist was 6 hours away. My prosthetist was able to teach my dad, who later taught me, how to do some of the simple repairs, but we still needed to go in every few weeks for the more complex stuff (Kids prosthetic need more adjusting than adults because they're still growing. Also I was rough on my prosthetics and broke them a lot lol).

But even after being taught how to do repairs and having my prosthetics for 20+ years, I only ever did these sorts of repairs to my below-knee prosthetic. I will not do any repairs of any kind to my above knee leg, which is much more technologically complex. Every time I tried, I made it worse to the point where the leg was unusable. I just leave those repairs to the guy who went to university to learn how to do it, and sometimes even he needs to send it off to someone with even more specialist knowledge when it's really badly messed up lol. Last time that happened Australia post lost the package. Not really relevant to this post, I just find the idea of it being sent to the wrong place by accident hilarious, it was one of my more realistic legs too so someone probably had a heart attack when they opened that package lmao.

Anyway, back on track lol.

This isn't even touching on the fact that on some more advanced prosthetics, many features are actually locked behind a security barrier only prosthetists can access. My prosthetic knee has an app on my phone I can pair it to, that allows me to change certain settings and swap between certain modes for different activities that tell the leg to change its behaviour depending on what I'm doing (e.g. a mode for running, a mode for cycling etc). but most of the more in-depth settings I can't access, only my prosthetist can, and he can only gain access to those settings with a security key given to him by the manufacturing company that requires him to provide proof of his credentials to receive it. I don't really agree with this btw, something about being locked out of my own leg's settings makes me feel a bit of an ick, but it's set up like this because people used to be able to access these settings and they would mess with things to the point their leg was virtually unusable. Because altering one setting had a domino effect on all the others, and a lot of folks weren't really paying attention to what they were messing with, all their prosthetists could do was factory reset the whole leg, which causes some issues too. Prosthetic arms are often similarly complex, as I understand it and have similar security barriers in place for more advanced arms. I don't know for sure though, so take that with a grain of salt.

All this to say these are incredibly delicate, finicky and complex pieces of equipment. There's nothing wrong with having a techy amputee character who can do their own repairs, but in reality, that is pretty rare, and its ok to have your character need to see a prosthetist or someone more knowledgeable than them. It's a part of the amputee experience I don't see reflected very often in media. In fact, the only examples I can think of in fiction (meaning not stories based on real people) where this is reflected are Full metal alchemist.

technically I think Subnautica Below Zero also mentions prosthetists are a thing in that world, but its a very "blink and you'll miss it" kind of thing...in fact I did miss it until my last playthrough lol.

[rqgnarok]

delicate - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 3,589

warnings: no mentions of specific pronouns for reader, jamie being a lil self deprecating, mentions of his dad, allusions to smut but, like, barely. set in season 2.

summary: jamie hadn’t planned on dating. his reputation’s never been worse. but then he met you.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie’s nervous.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Dating had been the last thing on his mind after his life fell apart. Leaving Man City, joining and being kicked out of a reality show, and coming back to Richmond with his tail between his legs– it had all been a domino effect; a very bad, terrible, decision after another. 

Jamie hadn’t planned on dating. His reputation’s never been worse. But then he met you. 

He’d gone out to some dive bar with a so-called friend of his– some guy he met during the production of Love Island that loved weed and Jamie’s connections– on a fucking Tuesday, of all days. Jamie was supposed to be in bed because training started at 7 sharp the next morning, and the last thing he needed was to show up late and tired. Instead, he’d been in a back alleyway behind a club downtown, moping and drinking his third fruity drink of the night, sweet and heavy with alcohol. 

It was a stupid idea, but he was lonely. The certified-prick plaque that he usually wore so proudly wasn’t so shiny anymore and his dad had been blowing up his phone about everything he was doing wrong– what he wore, how he combed his hair, who he hung out with, the failures that landed him back at Richmond. 

Jamie had been in need of alcohol and human company and up to that point of the night he was 50% on his way. He was considering finishing his drink and calling it a night when the muffled beat of the music inside the building exploded behind him, becoming so much louder it rattled his teeth.

Someone came out the back door, he realized. You; pretty with your own drink in hand, looking around. Your eyes fell on him and he sat a little straighter on the curb, unsure of what kind of attention he was gonna get.

You blinked. “Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone here.”

“Sorry,” he answered automatically. He’d been doing a lot of apologies as of late. “Was a bit stuffy in there, ain’t it? It’s usually alone in here.”

He expected his accent to be a dead giveaway, gearing himself up for a photo or an autograph or a rant about something he’d done to upset you somehow. Instead, you smiled at him and turned towards the ground, shy.

Cute, Jamie had thought. He’d been doomed from the start. 

“Yeah. Don’t know what we were thinking, going out on a Tuesday,” you’d rolled your eyes, referring to the group of friends that had refused to take no for an answer and dragged you clubbing not even halfway through the week. “Like a hangover’s exactly what I need to get through this week.”

“That bad, huh,” Jamie raised his eyebrows in amusement, watching you huff and puff under the streetlight the back of the club offered. He hoped you couldn’t see him very well, his dark jeans and Nikes along with his designer shirt were pretty much footballer prick Jamie Tartt’s trademark, recognizable even to the worst of drunks. But Jamie didn’t want to be recognized, he just wanted to talk to someone. 

“You wouldn’t believe me,” you huffed, sipping your drink and obviously giving him an out. You’d both come out here for some peace and quiet, after all, but Jamie was done with quiet. 

He wanted his friends back. He wanted his efforts to be noticed, for his dad to leave him alone, and to enjoy the company of a pretty stranger at the back of a bar. 

So instead of following your cue, he patted the spot next to him, looking up at you with an attentive expression. “Try me.”

And so you did. You sat next to him and talked until three in the morning. Suddenly the bar was closing and the dark cloud that hung over Jamie’s head for months was momentarily dispersed in your presence. He went home with your number on a napkin and less than four hours to catch up on sleep before he had to go to work, but a happy man.

And, okay, look. Jamie’s popularity is– in the dumps, really. It’s all negativity at this point, and he usually balanced it with good football, but that was back when he took any honest criticism of his person as petty jealousy. Now, with his shattered self-image and after becoming the internet’s laughing stock, he’s been trying his best to keep his head down

since the media and most of England trashes him whenever he dares to take a breath in public. 

At least his mum’s talking to him again, or rather Jamie’s finally picking up when she calls, but things still don’t feel right. He’s playing and getting enough minutes but it’s not a victory if he can’t hug his teammates when he scores a goal. If he comes home to an empty apartment and no messages on his phone, no one to celebrate the night with. 

So, pretty much everyone hates him. Even Keeley’s bordering on forced politeness these days, which says a lot about how badly Jamie’s done it this time, and yet–

And yet. 

“The fuck are you smiling about?” Isaac grunted when he caught sight of Jamie biting back a grin while typing, lacking his usual bruv. Still in the doghouse, apparently. “Won’t kill you to be early for once, ey? Put that fucking thing away.”

Jamie did, not before a quick look at his texts before pressing send.

hey 

its jamie from the bar??

was wondering if u wanted to go out sometime. i really enjoyed spending the other night with u

He spent all training missing his cues, taking fouls from his teammates, and making Ted’s mustache twitch with… not disappointment but something. It made him a little nervous, but any thought about it flew out his head when he got his hands on his phone at the end of the day, your notifications on his lock screen.

Hi, I’d love to!

I really enjoyed being with you too :) 

Is tomorrow night too early?

It wasn’t. But your schedules were nightmares to line up and you spent almost three weeks trying to catch up to each other. You had a work thing, Jamie came back too tired from a game, you had a friend visit, another game was rescheduled… You name it. Anything that could’ve stopped that date from happening happened. 

But neither of you were giving up. While you couldn’t see each other, your text thread grew and grew and grew, never running out of things to talk about. Despite having seen you only once in person, Jamie was pretty sure he knew you better than he’d ever know other girlfriends and boyfriends he’d had. 

When you texted him to get a good night's sleep and when he told you to get home safe, he pretended, only with a little shame, that this was something you did all the time. That when you were on your way to your place he’d be there waiting for you, asleep on the couch because he tried to stay up for you. When you wished him sweet dreams he’d imagine you next to him, tucked close against his side.

He pretended he was yours. All the damn time.  

And this– today– when the planets finally align and a version of his illusions happens to come true, he’s nervous. Can’t help it, no matter how well it’s going. And it is going well, with Jamie in your apartment where you’d set up a nice dinner for both of you, the date you’ve been talking about for almost a month. He would’ve suggested his own place, but it’s filled with football memorabilia and awards he doesn’t want to explain yet. 

He likes how you treat him. You talk to him like he’s a normal bloke you met at a bar and not a celebrity you’re too afraid to even joke around with. 

“Oh, dinner looks ace, love.”

“Yeah? If I accidentally poison you at least it’ll taste good.”

“I’ll die chuffed, at least.”

A snort. “You’re so fucking British.”

“Oh, bug off, please! Thanks! Cheerio!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Didn’t know you were so religious.”

“What can I say, Jay, you make me feel closer to God.”

“Ha! Haven’t even kissed you, yet.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“Night’s very young, angelface.”

It’s so easy, being with you. Being himself with you. 

So what if you barely even know each other? He already knows all about your childhood dog and you’ve been made aware of what’s it like to grow up in Manchester. But shit, just because Jamie wants to bare his soul to you maybe it doesn’t mean he should. He could at least wait until you’ve seen each other in person more than twice, and yet.

And yet. 

He’s at your place, looking at your record collection, running his fingers over the spines of the books on your shelves. He just ate the pizza you cooked– vegan, because he did mention sometime in the past weeks that he’s on a strict diet regime and the fact that you remembered makes him wanna cry a little. 

He likes you so much. Doesn’t he owe it to you to be honest?

“I gotta tell you something,” he pipes up, obviously catching you off-guard.

“Alright,” you say slowly, leaving your wine glass on the coffee table and scooting to give him space on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs. “Sure. Shoot.”

Jamie sits, messing with his hair and avoiding your eye. He looks behind you at the picture frame hanging on the wall, a photo of you with your friends on a trip you took to the States last summer. The stories you told about them made him laugh so hard that he’d snorted and spilled his drink everywhere.

“I didn’t know how…” he sighs, figuring there’s no use beating around the bush. “Haven’t been completely honest with you, love. About… what I do. Who I am.”

“Jamie–” you begin, consoling and standing up straighter, reaching to place your hand on his arm. He shakes his head.

“I just– I didn’t know how to tell you,” he rushes out, meeting your eye with a pleading expression. How scared he must look right now he doesn’t know, but your features soften even further into something sympathetic, kind. He doesn’t deserve you. “And– and I know we– we’ve barely gone out, yeah, but I– I like you. Fuck, man, I like you so much, but you deserve to know–”

“Jamie,” you say again, firmer. You duck your head to try and meet his eye, searching for his stare. You’re still smiling. You haven’t stopped smiling at him since you met him. “I know. If this is about you being… famous, I know, okay? About everything.”

The anxiety that’s been clawing at his throat freezes and fades, just a little. “You… do?”

Your smile turns sheepish, a little guilty. “I… kind of recognized you the night we met. It took me a minute, but I knew I’d seen you somewhere. Your voice helped, too. I think I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He still wants to cry a little, but it’s less hysterical now. He manages to feel safe in your apartment, a space that screams you everywhere he turns to look. Your photos and posters on the walls, your chipped mugs in the kitchen, your colorful rug under your coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, held up with books underneath it. 

“I sound like a creep,” you admit, embarrassed yourself. “I’m a fan of the sport, is all. But I figured you wouldn’t like to talk about your life with a stranger, so I didn’t push. I’m sorry.”

Jamie shakes his head, finally reaching for the hand you have on his arm. You haven’t been a stranger since that first night. “Don’t be. I should’ve told you from the start. You deserve better than that.”

“Than… you?” Jamie doesn’t reply. His jaw tightens and your voice turns reproachful. “Jamie–”

“The public hates me,” he cuts you off. He hates to say it but you need to hear it. Even if you think you know what his life’s like right now, you don’t know the depth of the mess he’s in. “You… being seen with me will probably ruin your life. Wasn’t fair of me to ask you out and not tell you what comes with it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jamie,” you say, instantly fierce and defensive of him. You’re defending him for some reason, and you don’t know half of the things he’s done. “Not the truth, not a damn thing. You don’t need to put your whole life on display just to get me to… to trust you, or something.”

Tears blur his eyesight, but he refuses to cry in front of you. Not on the first date at least. Or is it the second one? Does your late night at the dive bar even count as a date?

“Love,” he says gently, threading lightly. “I’m serious. Wasn’t bluffing when I said I like you. A lot. And I know it’s only been, like, one date–”

“Two,” you pipe in. Jamie can’t help his amusement. That answers his question, he guesses. 

“Two dates, then,” he continues, rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Your eyes go back and forth from his face to the touch, mesmerized. “But this could be somethin’, you know? Somethin’ good and I don’t want you comin’ into it blind or whatever. I’m not– I ain’t exactly a good person.”

You don’t even blink. “I don’t believe that.”

You’re stubborn. It’d be endearing if Jamie wasn’t so convinced of his shortcomings. “Love, I’m a twat. I’m mean to everyone I know, even people I like. I don’t tip enough at restaurants. Never been a very good boyfriend either. ‘m not sayin’ it to be mean. ‘s just who I am.”

You cup his face with your free hand and Jamie melts into it. It’s the first caring touch he’s been offered in fuck knows how long. “What if I like who you are? Public suicide and all, what if I want to be with you? What if you make me happy, Jamie?”

Jamie can’t see how he would but he doesn’t you to leave, either. Like, ever. “You make me happy, too. It’s like I know you already you know?. From a past life or somethin’, does that make sense?”

Your shocked silence makes him hesitate, his hands twitching in discomfort. “Is that… cool?”

“Cool,” you say, eyes full of wonder and voice a little emotional, pulling him closer before he can do something stupid like let you go. “Jamie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you.” 

A pleasant surprise washes over him, warm. He says, a little choked. “Cool. That’s– that’s cool.”

You grin, trying not to laugh, and cup the back of his neck to bring his mouth to yours. “Cool.”

There’s little talking after that, and who would’ve known your couch is the perfect make out spot? Jamie’s mouth is pilant and responsive against yours, his hands wandering for any skin he can reach and making tiny sounds at the back of his throat that you swallow greedily, unable to get enough of him. 

He leaves your place that night disheveled and happy, kissing you goodbye at least five times (two of them in the hallway before he finally scurries off) and not without making you promise to watch Richmond’s game this weekend. 

It takes you a little too long to clean up after, even if Jamie did wash the dishes you used during dinner (“what kinda guest would I be if I didn’t help? Ma would have a heart attack!”) because you keep bringing your fingers to your lips, tilted upwards in a dreamy smile. 

You make it work. Both you and Jamie continue with your lives trying to be subtle about this new development and a new routine is created; he comes to your place after most games and training unless he’s too tired. Then you meet him at his house, avoiding taking the same roads in case the paparazzi get a bit too creative. 

It’s a little weird. Definitely new, but you find yourself trying to spend as much time as you can with Jamie. Dates at smaller spots and at weird hours; he even takes you running at 4 am once, to which you responded with never again and I’ll forgive you for doing this to me if we share a shower. Needless to say, the early morning wasn’t a total loss.

But your homes turn out to be the safest places to turn to. He becomes ingrained in your apartment as do the flowers he buys for you and puts in a vase on your kitchen table: red chrysanthemums and white clovers, daffodils and heliotropes, blue salvia. 

You once use his phone to order takeout and he has a website on flowers and their meanings open. When he sees you carefully put some of the flowers in a book for safe-keeping, Jamie's face fills you with a need to keep him safe, too, coped up in your home and away from the world that keeps asking too much of him.

His teammates are warming up to him, albeit slowly. Jamie has reassured you he’s alright, that he knows mending the bridges he’d burned on his way out of Richmond will take longer than he’d like, but he’s hopeful about the way things are turning out. 

You feel bad sometimes for keeping him distracted at such pivotal moments in his life of self-reinvention, but he outright refused when you offered to distance yourself a little so he could spend more time with the friends he very clearly cared much about. He was almost offended about it.

We could wait if you want. Maybe it’s too soon to do this yet. I know it’s a delicate situation Jamie, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything.

I don’t wanna wait, Jamie had answered, stubborn. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, pressing you against the kitchen counter. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face. I want you. 

And he has you. Completely and undeniably; this thing between you, this relationship, however delicate, becomes steadier as time passes. You’re already talking about meeting his mom and taking him back to your hometown for a visit, possibilities Jamie could never have dreamed of when he first met you. 

You’d told him during those first dates how unpredictable relationships could be. And neither of you can deny how your personal situation makes things even harder, but that doesn’t mean you’re not willing to try. 

I can’t make any promises of what’ll happen next. No one knows shit these days, Jamie. But I can be with you. And I can make you a drink, if you want. 

He tells you about his dad, too, eventually. In his effort to be more honest with you, even if you tell him multiple times he’s got nothing to make up for. He tells you anyway, wrapped in your arms on your couch while a movie plays in the background, the only source of light in the room. 

Me dad weren’t… you know. Good, or whatever. He’s always thought ‘m too soft and shit. And when I try not to be I… I’m someone I’m not, y’know? Someone I don’t like.

It puts a lot of things into perspective. About when you first met and how he later tried to push you away, convinced he was a terrible person and you wouldn’t want to be with him if you truly knew him. 

What you do want is to track down his dad and, like, throw a brick at his window or something. But you only embrace Jamie tighter, kiss his hair, and don’t mention how tightly he holds your arms to keep them around his torso. If he cries a little, then that’s between you and God, and you’ll die before you ever make fun of him for it.

You wake up one morning to find Jamie staring at you, eyes lidded and sleepy. 

“Dreamin’ of me, angel?”

Your first action of the day is to snort thanks to your fantastic boyfriend. “You wish, handsome.”

“I do wish,” he grins wolfishly. You see his hand sliding through the sheets, moving smoothly and calculated towards your naked body. 

“If you think I’m up for anything before you get some food in me, you’re gonna be awfully disappointed,” glee shines on Jamie’s face and you push it away with your hand, groaning at his dirty-mindedness. “Food, you shameless bastard, I said food. How do you get anything done with your mind stuck in the gutter all the time?”

“Takes some effort,” he says, pride unhurt and still reaching for you. You relent quickly enough, loving the feeling of his hands on you. “Come on, babe, I’ve gotta be up for trainin’ in an hour. We’ve more than enough time, huh?”

“That depends,” you support your head in your hand, elbow digging into your pillow. “What’s in it for me?”

“C’mere and I’ll show ya,” he promises, an endearing frown on his features. “What’re you doin’ all the way over there, anyway?”

He pulls you towards him with ease and you let yourself be caged in his arms, kiss after kiss after kiss.

________

AHHHH HERE IT IS, HERE IT IS

i hope you like it! i kept ya’ll waiting a little but the response was insane!!! i wanted to give you the best i could write AND i wanted to use this fic to thank you for 1.1k! thank you for making me feel so welcome when venturing back into writing and for trusting me with your favorite characters <3 and prepare yourselves bc im making myself put as many fics out this month as i can!

<3

________

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[callahanisms]

a fair trade

pairing: miguel o’hara x gender neutral! reader

word count: 1,010 words

ao3 link: 🕷️🕷️🕷️

summary: your help is needed to defeat a multiversal entity, one that you’ve defeated before. but what can miguel offer in return for your service?

notes: kind of mishmashing the movies and comics together. do not fret if you haven’t read any of them! it’s mostly just referenced (much like how it was referenced in the last post). the fic on ao3 is also locked to registered ao3 users only. it’s a precaution i’m taking in response to ai using ao3 fics to be trained.

“(Y/N), we need your help.”

“Miguel, I’m in the middle of eating lunch. Because, you know, I didn’t have breakfast.”

“That’s on you.”

“Some of us don’t like breakfast.”

“Okay that’s not the point! The point is that we need your help!”

You were just sitting at your table, peacefully. After a mission earlier today, you thought you enjoyed a nice break. All you’ve been doing is going on missions across the multiverse, at the expense of your personal life back home. Your friends missed you and were constantly wondering why you would dip all of a sudden. After all, it wasn’t like you to just...cancel last minute. You loved your friends. You always made sure to be there. What you didn’t expect when accepting Miguel’s invitation was to be worked constantly. There was always a multiversal threat at stake, even for something small.

You were literally the local expert on the multiverse. Small things wouldn’t cause catastrophe. But Miguel believed they would. He believed in a domino effect. You believed that it was necessary to stay vigilant but not every small thing required attention. Sometimes the multiverse acted weird. It was a multiverse. It acted on its own accords.

“Miguel, is it actually something to worry about? Or is it something like the Vulture ended up in the wrong reality which can be cleaned up without my help?” You took a sip of your drink.

“It’s someone by the name of Verna. And she’s brought with her an army.”

“Verna? Never heard of her.” You shake your head.

“Really? She claims she’s fought you before.”

“If I saw a picture, then maybe I would recognize her.”

Miguel doesn’t hesitate. “Lyla.”

Part of you wondered what it would be like if your name was always on the tip of his tongue, ready to speak on a moment’s notice. You always wanted someone who could say your name with such ease, who thought of you constantly.

“Already on it.” Lyla pulls up a video. “This is live footage of the whole thing. We’re lucky she hasn’t spread her destruction further.”

As you were taking a sip of your drink, you choked on the liquid. Thankfully, you did not die. “We need you alive (Y/N).” Miguel says.

“I thought I banished her to the ends of the Multiverse!” You exclaimed.

“So you have fought her?” Lyla questions. “Was this the multiversal being you battled before?”

“She’s the reason I have no magic!” You crush the metal cup in your hand. “It took everything for me to banish her! And she just comes...comes back like nothing happened?” You squint a little. “She also looks a lot different than I remember. You said her name was Verna?” Lyla and Miguel look at each other before nodding. “She went by a different name. Called herself the Matriarch of...something. I don’t remember.”

“All the more reason for you to finish up and join us.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I lost my appetite.” You picked up the dishes and cleaned out the plates, dropping them off with the conveyor belt of dirty dishes. “You owe me Miguel.”

“Owe you what?”

“A break. Like a real break. My body needs to properly recuperate, you know.”

He inputs the numbers and opens the portal. “I can do that. You’ve done good work so far.”

“Exactly. Not getting paid here.”

“None of us get paid.”

“It was a joke. You know, Peter was right. You’re like the only one of us that isn’t funny.”

“That’s hilarious.” His voice did not change in tone and his facial expressions did not give away that he was humored.

“Lighten up a little. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re extra stoic because you want to kiss me.”

“I do not want to kiss you.”

“Everyone wants to kiss me.”

He looks at you, eyebrow slightly raised. “You should pay me in kisses actually. Think that’d be a fair deal. I help you guys stop Verna, again, and I get a kiss. It’d be the perfect reward.”

You feel his gaze on you. “It’s a joke, I promise. You don’t have to actually.” Even if you did want to kiss him.

He takes a step towards you, much to your surprise. His hand reaches up, fingers curled slightly, and his knuckles graze the skin of your cheeks. It’s reassuring in a way and his touch is gentle. It reminds you of when you first joined, how his fingers gently wiped away the crumbs at your face. His hand uncurls and cups your face. “How badly do you want a kiss?” He asks.

His voice made your legs shake. “If I answered that I think you’d make fun of me.”

“I mean...it’s a simple yes or no question.”

“Yes?”

You weren’t expecting his lips to crash against yours. The sheer force almost causes you to fall over and your hands fumble to grip onto his body. You could feel his muscles flex beneath his suit. You kiss him back, but most certainly not with the same amount of force he does. Miguel even goes as far to nip your bottom lip, causing a small gasp to emerge from your throat. It was a little embarrassing and your cheeks grew warm. He pulls away, satisfied and with that cocky smirk on his face.

“Make it back alive and I’ll give you another.” He puts his mask on. “Maybe even more.”

“You...have a lot of confidence that I will.” You were out of breath. Very much out of breath.

“You’ve beaten the odds before. It’s part of who we are.”

Miguel walks through the portal and you clench your hands for a few seconds. You were nervous. It wasn’t just the kiss that made you nervous (though your heart certainly was pumping for that reason primarily). Lyla looked at you with a smile. “You better come back. Or else I’ll lose the primary thing I make fun of him for.”

“I’ll try Lyla. For you.”

“Sure, sure. Now get going before people die.”

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Price is playing spades and dominoes

Simon has on forces with red laces

What is Soap gonna end up doing?

😏 hmmm I know exactly what John "Soap" MacTavish is gonna end up doing.

Rating: Gen Audience

The black wife effect series

Another deployment was done and dusted. Kyle was itching to get home to visit his mom and siblings, especially since his whole family was going to be together. It all just happened to line up perfectly, a gift from the Gods themselves that his leave was lining up with his family's annual reunion. He was gonna be off for just two short weeks before they were being sent out again. Sometimes, he wondered if Kate had other task forces she could call on.

"Johnny, you sure you don't want to tag along for leave with us?" Simon asked, "My Lady actually enjoys having you around for some reason. She seems to think you don't eat enough."

"Nae, spending the tha two weeks off with my own wee lass." Soap puffs out his chest, "She's insistin ah meet tha kids and family."

John raises an eyebrow, "You're dating someone with kids...how long have you known her?"

Kyle is a bit interested in this conversation because he can't imagine Soap dating a woman with children. That type of dating required a different set of skills that he thought his friend didn't have. "How old are the kids?"

Soap shrugs his shoulders, "Her kids are like my age and I really think she's the one." He has a silly little smile on his face. "And we've been dating for the better part of like seven months."

Kyle is surprised that Soap hasnt really brought up the relationship, but he shakes his head and smiles. His friend really deserves someone nice, "As long as the kids like you and I'm sure she's a catch."

And just like that, the conversation is over, inconsequential.

Kyle has been home with his family for two days. His Mom and Aunts fuss over him, saying that the armed services aren't doing him well if he can't find time to date and have a life. They mumble about the new keloids on his arms and are just happy his face isn't scarred up. His sisters and cousins are happy to gossip with him, catching him up on the doings and scandals of the family. Apparently, his mom started dating again, at the behest of his aunt. Something about having an empty nest and needing to have fun. While his sisters were okay with it, the idea of another man being near his mom made him scrunch up his nose. Not because it bothered him, but because the idea of an outside male taking advantage of his mom makes him itch. He's seen the absolute worst humanity has to offer, and he worries about his mom. She's been by herself since his dad stepped out and hasn't entertained another man since.

"Have you met him?" He asks Trisha, his youngest sister.

"No, but he's in town from work. Mom is actually pretty excited. Apparently, they are gonna elope." Trisha says as she types away at her phone. "It's part of the reason ma insisted that we wait for you to get home this year and planned our reunion around this leave."

Kyle frowns even more and stands up from the couch. Immediately, he is looking for his mom, and he finds her in the kitchen. "You're eloping?" His eyes feel like they are going to pop out of his head from shock.

"Kyle, I'm allowed to get married, you know." She doesn't even look up from cleaning the copious amounts of chicken in the sink. "You should be happy for me."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, "Mom please...I beg. I'm not letting you marry some guy I haven't met...or ran through an extensive background check."

She drops the lemon into the bowl of chicken and turns to look at him, "My love, I wouldn't marry someone who doesn't treat me well. Besides your aunts like him and he has met one of your uncles."

"Should you even really be dating?" Kyle tries from a different angle.

"I've always dated, you and your sisters just never knew about it." She then goes back to her work. "Besides, he doesn't want any children out of wedlock and I can respect that."

"Mom!" Kyle feels sick

"My eggs aren't all dried up...and don't go telling anyone it's still early." She watches him out of the corner of her eye. "Also you gotta promise me to be on your best behavior when he and his family get here."

"So I have to meet this guy and his family and let you get married, and you're pregnant? No, it's not happening. In fact-" the sound of the doorbell chimes, and he hears Trisha from living room saying that he is here.

Kyle watches his mom wash her hands and dry them. She gives him a stern look before leaving to greet this man. She is grumbling something about him being over eager. Kyle is scowling as he follows the sound of laughter, but he stops when hears the booming laugh of Soap.

His body goes cold, ice almost. He's confused because that sounds like Soap in his front room. But cognitively, he knows that Soap is supposed to be visiting his girl. It feels like an out of body experience. Then the first thing he thinks is 'Fuck is he dating one of my sisters?'

He enters the living room and really you could buy him for free.

"Chuilein, mah folks won't be in town until tomorrow. But I wanted to stop by first so we could get it out tha way." And sure enough, it's Soap standing in his living room. His teammate, the guy he's seen run through women like it's an Olympic sport, is here surrounded by his aunts and cousins and sisters and uncles. His arm wrapped around his mother's waist.

"What the fuck is this!?" Kyle shouts in shock. "Wait what!?"

And Soap the cheeky bastard smiling, "Hey Gaz...so it's a long story."

"Absolutely not!" Kyle screeches.

And he thought the fade on Captain and the forces on Simon was bad.

a.n: I was cackling as I wrote this. Happy new years yall. Pray for Kyle and pray extra hard for Johnny.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 11

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

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All OC Characters belong to me

All Falls Down (Prequel)

Series Masterlist

@paigereeder thank you for all your help sis! you da goat!!! ❤️🫶🏽

Wednesday Morning

“This is fucking nuts” Kiyana muttered as she placed her head in her hands. Her house was in absolute chaos this morning. Kairo was teething so he was grumpier than normal and Kamari and Kaiden were upset that their dad wasn’t there.  Since Josh was getting more popular within the WWE Universe, he was starting to get requested to do more WWE Live tours.   He had left Monday night for the UK while he did tell the boys that he wouldn’t be home until Friday, it must’ve slipped their tiny minds. 

Kamari and Kaiden  had rushed down the stairs after brushing their teeth only to find the downstairs guest bedroom empty. Kiyna watched with bated breath as their little feet ran into the kitchen, their little faces scrunched up in confusion, looking exactly like carbon copies of their father. Kamari looked towards the glass sliding doors, his eyes widening as if he had a eureka moment and dashed towards the door, pushing the curtain out the way only to let out a sigh of frustration as he saw the backyard was empty too. Kamari then turned and looked at Kiyana. 

“Where’s my dad?” He muttered and he walked over to the table to sit down next to his baby brother, who was in the high chair starting to get fussy again as he chewed on his hand..” Kiyana sighed and grabbed both of their plates off the kitchen counter and brought it over to the table. Once she sat the plates down Kaiden, who had been sulkily looking out of the glass  door, came over and sat down so he could eat. 

“He’s still on the road, Bean.” Kiyana said softly. 

“What! Who's gonna take me to school?”   Kamari, dropped his fork and folded his arms over his chest with a scowl that could rival his fathers. While Kamari was sulking, Kaiden started to cry. Kaiden’s crying was like a domino effect. Kaiden’s crying had triggered Kairo and he started wailing, reaching his arms out for his momma and while Kamari was usually her tough child, she even saw a couple of tears slip down his cheeks.

Kiyana sighed before scooping Kairo out of his highchair and grabbing one of her dining room chairs and moving it between her two older boys and pulling them into her lap comfortably. She quickly pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Josh who responded almost immediately. 

To -  Boys Dad: Hey, are you busy?  From - Boys Dad: For you never  Incoming FaceTime Call from BOYS DAD 

Kiyana answered and the smile that was on Josh’s face quickly dropped. “Aye, what's with all the tears?” All three boys immediately looked towards the phone at the sound of their dads voice. “Wassup y’all?�� 

“Who's gonna take me to school?” Kamari repeated his question from earlier, taking the phone out of Kiyana’s hand and holding it himself. 

“Grandma’ is coming to take you. We had this conversation Monday night, Bean. remember at dinner?”  Josh let out a sigh when his sons continued to cry. “I’m sorry. I’ll be home Friday night okay.”  She watched as her boys' tear-streaked faces softened slightly upon hearing their dad's reassurance. “And we can do whatever y’all want to do. Y’all got me for three whole days before I have to leave again.” 

Kamari and Kaiden reluctantly nodded their heads, their crying had eased up. “Alright y’all finish breakfast before Grandma gets here.” Kiyana said softly, pressing a kiss on Kamari and Kaiden’s heads. The boys nodded and blew their dad kisses before getting off of their mothers lap and eating their -now cold pancakes. 

Kiyana took Kairo upstairs to get him dressed so he could go with her mother as well. She was still on the phone with Josh who bit his lip as he looked at her through the screen. “What?” She asked after placing Kairo in his crib with some toys so she could find him an outfit. She set the phone up to where as though she didn’t have to hold it. 

“I feel like shit now, Key.” His voice came through the phone. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit Josh.” She shot back defensively. “I just thought them seeing you would calm them down and it did.”  She grabbed Kairo a couple of outfits out of his closet and started packing his diaper bag. She heard Josh smack his teeth. 

“I’m not blaming you, Kiyana damn. I'm just saying I feel like shit because I know they’re used to seeing me there on Wednesdays.” Kiyana sighed and picked up Kairo and brought him over to the changing table so she could start getting him dressed. “I miss them like crazy.” 

“They miss you too..” 

“What about you? Do you miss me?”  Kiyana sighed and tried to fight the smile from coming on her face. Something happened between them on Monday night. She didn’t know if it was just her emotions running on high or the fact that she actually missed him but she actually initiated the kiss between them. She was the one to pull him closer to her and he was the one who stopped it from going to far.

“You alright?” Josh asked her as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes dropping down to her ass that was encased in a pair of tight black biker shorts.  Kiyana nodded as she finished loading the dishwasher.

“Yeah, I'm just exhausted. The boys sleeping?” 

“Yeah, they rocked.” He laughed and walked closer to her leaning his hip against the counter so he was facing her. “You not mad at me right?” 

“No, I'm not mad at you. I’m just..” She sighed and shrugged, “I just don’t wanna lose my job over this.” She whispered and Josh nodded, now feeling guilty for losing his temper earlier. 

“He put his hands on you Kiyana. He needed to be dealt with.” Kiyana felt the tear slip down her face and before she could wipe it away, Josh stepped closer to her and cupped her cheeks in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.” 

"I know," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I never wanted you to get involved."

Josh shook his head gently, his eyes locked on hers. "Kiyana, divorced or not, you're still important to me. And I wasn't about to let that bitch put his hands on you.” Kiyana sucked in a deep breath and she stood there, staring into Josh’s eyes. Josh’s eyes dropped down to her lips. 

Kiyana felt her heart rate spike and before she knew it, she was leaning up on her tippy toes connecting her lips to his. Kiyana and Josh both moaned into the kiss as it deepened. Josh gripped the back of thighs and lifted her up, placing her on the counter without breaking their kiss. 

Josh’s hands roamed over Kiyana’s body, his touch sending shivers down her spine as she arched into him. Their kiss deepened even further, as she opened her legs wider and started to pull his shirt over his head. He broke the kiss so he could take his shirt off. 

“Wait,” He panted out as she pulled him back towards her. “Key, wait.” He muttered as she started kissing on his neck. “Key, fuck.” He muttered out as she moaned into his skin when she started to grind her hips against his erection. He placed his hands on her hips, using all of his strength to stop her from grinding on him. “I don’t want you to regret this when you wake up in the morning.” He grunted out as he pushed himself away from her. 

She nodded her head, her eyes glistening with a mix of desire and disappointment. She took a deep breath, steadying herself on the counter. "You're right," she whispered, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“You aint got nothing to be sorry for Key.” He grabbed his shirt off the kitchen floor and put it back on before looking down at his watch and cursing. “Fuck, I gotta go finish packing.” She nodded and hopped off the counter and followed him to the front door.  “I’ll see you on Friday okay.” 

“Key, you still with me?” She jumped as she heard Josh’s voice call out to her. As she looked over at the phone she could see the hickey that she left on his neck. “Kiyana?” 

“Yeah I'm still here.” She whispered, licking her lips. “And Yes, I do miss you.” 

“Good, because I miss you too.” 

Kiyana kept her head down as she went to the nurses station, ignoring the stares of her co-workers who had undoubtedly heard about the ass whooping Josh put on Elijah. 

“Don’t yall have work to do?” Debra asked, startling the two nurses who were staring at Kiyana and whispering back and forth with each other. “Go on, shoo.” She said, motioning them along with a roll of her eyes. “They acting like they never seen someone get their ass whooped before. How was your two days off?” 

Kiyana chucked and swiveled her chair so she was facing Debra. “It was cool.  Felt like old times again, just me and my boys.” 

“And Josh?” Debra asked, being her nosey self and Kiyana bit her lip and shrugged.  

“I mean he was there too. The boys wouldn’t let him leave.” Debra let out a ‘hmm’ and Kiyana furrowed her eyebrows. “What?” 

“I’m just saying, it was hella cute how he went after Dr. Daniels for you.” 

“Ms Deb…” Key trailed off with a roll of her eyes. 

“And Seeing y’all standing next to each other.” She whistled and flagged herself with her hand. “Y’all one hot couple.” 

“That got a divorce for a reason..” 

Debra raised an eyebrow, sensing Kiyana's discomfort. "I get it, I get it," she said, her voice softening. "But seriously though, it must've been nice having some time off with your boys. You needed that."

“Yeah I really did.” She whispered, biting her lip as another flash of her and Josh kissing popped in her head. 

Kiyana went through the rest of the day thinking about Josh; she had to stop herself from texting him about six different times. Instead she texted Samara who called her and literally laughed on the phone. Kiyana had hung up on her… she was not in the mood. 

As she walked back towards her station after her lunch break she was floored to see a beautiful bouquet waiting near where she normally sat. Debra gave her a teasing smile and nodded her head towards the card. Kiyana rolled her eyes and picked the card up, her heart hammering in her chest as she started to read it.

I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you, to us. But being with you the other day, I realized how much I fucked up and I hope you can find it in you to give me a chance to fix everything. Ps. sorry us Fatu men keep giving you a hard time.  Love Josh 

soooo.. what do you guys think? Y'all thonk Kiyana is gonna forgive him for the afffair? Or y'all think she just gone use him to get her rocks off lol?

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[fuck-customers]

I feel like I started a domino effect at work and it's great :>

There's a couple coworkers who are just unbelievably awful to work with. They're either messy, lazy, thick as two hundred bricks or just a combination of all the above. Myself and multiple other staff have told the boss we don't want them on busy nights because it just becomes us having to do 4 people's jobs; and they're never closing so they get to do nothing and walk out scott free. Every time I have them on my closes I end up walking out of work aching, mentally exhausted and feeling like I wanna down an entire bottle of tequila.

Anyway, there's a big event coming up next week during one of my closes. I check the roster to see who I'm on with and what do I see: not 1, not 2, but all 3 of the coworkers I hate being with rostered on. The only other person who's on with us is decent, but even then it'd just be me and her picking up everyone's slack. I'm furious, cause I've specifically said not to put them on individually on busy nights and I get all 3? Guess I'll be feeling a bit under the weather that day.

Like I said, the other person who's supposed to be on is decent and I do like her, so I decided to give her a heads up that I wasn't planning on showing up and why. Immediately she's like, 'So I'd be alone with those idiots? Fuck that, I'm calling in too.' Okay pop off, can't wait for the chaos to ensue. The absolute cherry on top, the person who's supposed to be the midshift that day overhears us and she goes 'wait you guys are calling out, so I'm gonna be stuck with THOSE 3? Fuck no, I'm not coming in either'.

So now that's 3 good staff down with only the lazy ones left over and I literally CANNOT WAIT. Our boss was being a huge dick (as per usual) to all 3 of us just before we coordinated our group call out too which makes it even sweeter. Kicking my feet giggling waiting for the shitshow to go down :3

Please tell us the aftermath.

-Rodney

[boydyke]

she asked me once if I was going to stay here and make sure the family doesn't kill each other after she died

grandma wrote a note for us in case she died and it ends pleading with us not to fight. she doesn't like it when we fight.

[elitesheepi]

It’s pretty sad that the Stormverine relationship in the comics just go…unaddressed. Like they’re dating in the 2013(I think) Storm run, they have some pages together showing their relationship. Cut to the next issue he’s dead due to him losing his healing factor, Storm has to be flown into space just to grieve without setting the world on fire, and then…. Nothing.

Assuming I got the order, Hunt for Wolverine: Mystery in Madripoor happens, and we get this cover:

But there’s more focus on Betsy/Psychlock and the only Wolverine relationship is the past one he had with Domino. Storm get a single panel sequence, no mention of their previous relationship, nothing. Hell she’s incapacitated for much of it along with Rogue but still wtf.

So then he’s brought back and then….nothing. Like no mention no, anything. Maybe it’s in an issue I haven’t read yet but the fact that their relationship just goes unacknowledged and forgotten is so sad to me. Like we get pockets chances of something so good for both of them, a break away from the status quo

And yeah, it’s marvel comics that just what happens, anytime a characters happy they reset the whole damn universe for one bs reason or another. (One More Day, you sonuvabitch, we ain’t forget) but they are capable of changing the status quo but just won’t. Rogue and Gambit were able to get married and stay married up until now, so it’s not impossible.

In that same breath, I’m not asking for them to get married and have kids and all that, I’m really not. Hell I’m not even exactly asking for them to restart their relationship just yet enough, though I really do want that. All I’m asking is for like some more acknowledgement that they did date and how that effected them.

It isn’t like they broke up, Logan died. Like died-died, could’ve stay dead dead. Storm eventually had to move on cause that’s just the nature of grief, but beforehand she was handling his unfinished business. That’s not breakup behavior, that’s “I’m a widow in mourning of my partner” behavior.

So X of Swords teased them again, and the Storm (2024) run has then full on have sex before she leaves again. Which yknow awesome and we finally get a hint of their previous relationship by her calling him her “old lover.” Which again, nice, but man salt in the wound with her saying she regrets her actions when yeah, ouch and why tho? They’ve been implied to have slept together in the past a few times so idk.

I’m rambling/ranting at this point, but all I’m trying to get at is, they’re a cute relationship but the lack of attention the x-office is giving them really bites. I want someone to just bite the bullet and commit to writing them. It can be done, and it can be done well without centering just Logan, sidelining Storm or making either of them OOC, but it really needs to start with just pointing out what they once were and starting from their. Idk man ⚡️

[onehelluvafan]

Will Stolas lose his immortality?

I’ve seen several mentions of Mission: Weeaboo-boo being a parallel to Blitz’s first encounter with Stolas (as an adult), which I can totally get behind. Right out the gate we have the “you were here to ravish me” similarity as well as Blitz “sneaking in, under the cover of night.”

I've also seen the hypothesis that Emberlynn's fan fiction includes an element of foreshadowing for what’s going to happen in the climax of Season 2.

Her episode is also the only one of the shorts with that "ticking" sound during the content warning, which lends further credence to the idea that it is tied in with the main plot somehow, even if merely thematically.

This got me pondering the possible parallels related to Emberlynn's functional immortality against demonkind and her decision to give it up in order to "be with Blitz."

Which now has me wondering—is Stolas going to have to give up his immortality to be with Blitz? Or lose it due to the illegal arrangement they've had going on?

Or, leaning into the idea that her episode is merely a reflection of how Blitz views his relationship with Stolas, could it simply be a parallel to the fact that Stolas has already been in mortal danger as a result of choosing to be with Blitz? And that Blitz feels responsible for Stolas' “undoing?”

We’re shown in Ghostfuckers that one of Blitz’s fears is that Millie could have died during any of the missions from episodes 1-4 of season one. Couple that with the fact that he believes that he “makes everyone’s lives worse,” it’s reasonable to assume that he not only fears, but feels responsible for her life being in mortal danger during their missions.

Whether he cared more about Stolas or the arrangement when he stopped the first assassination attempt, Striker was without the angelic weapon when he fled, which Moxxie had expressed complete shock in Striker's ability to have in the first place.

I think that Blitz allowed his cognitive dissonance to convince himself that Striker was no longer a threat without this weapon. Because deep down, he may have been afraid that telling Stolas about the assassination attempt might not be a neutral event for him. That he didn’t even want to contemplate the idea that he might actually care beyond the loss of their "arrangement."

In the very next episode, Truth Seekers, we see these feelings forced to the surface during his drug-induced hallucination—with Stolas at the top of a long flight of stairs, saying, “Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?”

With the knowledge that he’s afraid that he makes “everyone’s lives worse,” it adds layers to many Stolitz scenes that follow throughout the series. Data points that someone like Blitz could easily see as evidence of that very fear. “Proof” that he’s responsible for Stolas’ life “falling apart.”

- He knew that Stolas was married as evidenced by his “Sorry, I fucked your husband” after their first night together. Stolas was clearly not only consenting to sex with Blitz, but was expressing a joyous desperation for it. Despite this, it was actually the “first ever friend” comment that caused Blitz to hesitate and return to Stolas, which we now know was a soft spot for him due to his experience with Fizz. But it was Blitz’s choice to stay or go, and staying is what kicked off the arrangement, is the reason for the sexual nature of its terms, and caused a domino effect that impacted Stolas’ entire life, including his family.

- When the two of them were being roasted at Ozzie’s, it wasn’t Stolas’ perspective that was showcased for Blitz, but Ozzie and Wally Wackford’s. Not only does the narrative begin early with Wally’s “Are you sleeping with an imp?!” but it’s followed up by Ozzie’s “My dark lord, how the mighty do fall,” and continues with Stolas being called out for “giving up” his wife and daughter specifically for his choice to be with Blitz. And the way that the narrative plays out, it almost sounds like his downfall was less for cheating than it was for sleeping with an imp.

Either way, seeing Stolas hide his face behind the menu likely “confirmed” multiple things for Blitz. That despite Stolas’ “public” flirting in front of other imps, when confronted by someone actually associated with Stolas’ upper class society, Blitz was reduced to being an embarrassment for Stolas.

Believing that, left no room for even a glimmer of hope that they could be anything more than what they already were: a prince who enjoyed “sleeping with an imp” and was apparently paying a pretty steep price for it.

- Then there’s Octavia. In Loo Loo Land, Stolas takes her to the theme park but spends most of his time flirting with Blitz. Not only does she comment on this in front of Blitz, but he’s there to witness when she’s finally had enough and storms off, mad at her father. In Seeing Stars, Octavia came to I.M.P., stole the grimoire, and disappeared with it. Why? Because her father was so wrapped up in the divorce, that she felt angry and neglected.

- In Full Moon, his fight with Stolas took them through part of the palace. This is very likely the first time he’s seen it since he was apprehended at the “Not Divorced” party, and what has it become? When he came back into Stolas’ life, it was bright, vibrant, and full of people. That night in Full Moon, it was dark, muted, and the only person visible in his photos were of Via.

While Blitz may have inferred at the time that Stolas’ marriage wasn’t in a good place, he doesn’t know just how miserable Stolas was in the life he had before. From Blitz’s perspective, he may have appeared fairly content overall when they first reconnected.

Compare that to Apology Tour, which Blitz sees as the natural outcome of what people experience when they are around him long enough.

Data point after data point, to feed into the idea that Stolas’ life has been “ruined,” just by Blitz being in it. His marriage ended, his relationship with his daughter was negatively impacted, and by Ghostfuckers, someone had tried to kill him twice.

I don't think Blitz is aware that Stella is the one who has been putting out the hits, but I could see him internalizing the idea that if Stolas had died during the second attempt, it would have been his fault. Because not only had he chosen not to warn Stolas that someone was trying to assassinate him, he was also the person that Stolas had reached out to for help and he had let M&M go in his stead.

It is after this attempt on Stolas’ life that we see Blitz absolutely shook by the idea that Stolas not only could be hurt, but that he was hurt and had almost died.

This is also several months after the night at Ozzie’s, when he had first begun to realize that, painful as it was, he may care for Stolas after all. Months during which they hadn’t seen each other and he had time to actually miss their time together.

Between that and finding out that he can actually get hurt, I can see Stolas becoming one of the people that Blitz feels the desire to protect. Unfortunately, this also seems to come with the anxiety of being responsible for what he perceives as the “collateral damage” of being associated with him.

Finally, in Truth Seekers, where the "ticking" began, Stolas had exposed himself via "real" demonic power to the D.H.O.R.K.S. and by extension, the living world. But the only reason he was there and got himself caught on camera is because he came to rescue Blitz.

This could be linked to the scene where we see Blitz attempting to protect and defend Stolas against someone. My bet is on Paimon, who, while ranking below the 7 Sins in power, is still depicted as a fairly powerful being. Stolas had not only exposed their existence to the living world, but had showcased his power in his attempt to scare the agents into submission. We know there’s going to be consequences for that, as well as for the divorce, and I expect Paimon will have a part to play, one way or another.

Stolas mentioned in Seeing Stars that without the grimoire, his powers are rather limited. I assumed that the worst outcome for him at the end of Season 2 was being stripped of his status and grimoire, which would vastly reduce his raw power as well as the power his position in society affords him.

Obviously, the actual worst-case scenario would be the loss of his life, which it's assumed Blitz is trying to protect him from in the snippet from the trailer. But it didn't occur to me until now that even with my own certainty that he'll survive the Season 2 climax, there was a third possible outcome... that along with his power and status, Stolas could also be stripped of his immortality.

[mythicamagic]

Two Black Sheep: Scar x Female Rover oneshot

Summary: Rover crossed her arms over her chest, avoiding his probing gaze. “We likely don’t have much time so I’ll get straight to the point: how are they treating you here?”

Scar’s mirth died down, smile turning patronizing. “Much like our little game in the village, I’ll let you work out the truth for yourself. Truth is always better as a wonderful discovery, rather than fodder fed to you by someone else.”

Female Rover x Scar.

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AN: This game isn’t even out yet what am I doing?

This takes place a little later on in the story, so mild spoilers (though I don’t know if they’ll still include this story beat into the released game after seeing it in the most recent Beta test). I fell in love with Scar as an antagonist while watching content creators stream this game so here we are. 

Rated T, 2500 words. You can find this on Ao3 too.

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Jinzhou city lay quiet and peaceful at night, a shining, glittering jewel of captive lights in the dark. Despite traversing through much of Huanglong, the sight of the pale fortress remained a stunning one to Rover. It stood tall and protective of its people, but she’d always gotten the sense there was more to it. A strength built into the stone; or a set of metal teeth lying in wait beneath its demure exterior. 

This suspicion was confirmed upon stepping into Jinzhou’s underground prison. The first few floors were pleasant and bright, only a few guards posted at the doors. As Rover was led deeper however, taking a lift down, down, down into the dark depths of Jinzhou’s fortress, the atmosphere palpably changed.

It reminded her of entering a Tacet Field, feeling subtle vibrations hum in the air. Strong energies called out in the dark; prisoners waiting in their cells. Not all of them were Resonators, but she felt them nonetheless. They were agitated and restless, some pacing in front of the doors to their cells as she stepped off the elevator and passed by. A few were tied up even when secured behind metal bars, their arms strapped to their torsos.

It was a different side of Jinzhou that Rover had been unfamiliar with until now; a grimy and cruel underbelly. She faced forward when some prisoners began shouting, cat-calling her and rousing the attention of the hallway in a domino effect as she passed by. The guards eventually stopped at the very last door of the hall- this one without the luxury of a window to peer inside the cell. The great iron door hissed and groaned on its hinges as the locks slid open. 

Rover caught the moment the lights switched on before she was ushered in. 

He’s been in total darkness all this time?

She outwardly gave little reaction at the sight that greeted her. Naturally stone-faced, Rover relied on her blank mask like a crutch in that moment. A wide metal collar sat around the prisoner’s neck-  steel spikes lining the inside pointing inward toward his jugular like a circle of teeth. Poles connected the collar to the cell walls, forcing him to stay on his feet in the center of the room. She noted his arms were bound behind his back, no signs of wounds on his body.

Blearily eyes blinked at her, adjusting to the light. 

Scar lifted his head slowly. Interest livened his features the second it seemed to click who he was staring at. He jolted, rattling the poles and sucking in a sharp breath, as though imbued with life.

“Well, well...this is a pleasant surprise, dear Rover,” he rasped. Mismatched eyes smiled with laser focused intensity. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Rover ignored him and forced a smile at the guards flanking her sides. “You can leave me alone with him. I’ll be alright.”

The men exchanged worried looks. “It is not that we do not trust you, illustrious guest. It is that the Magistrate gave clear orders that we protect you at all times during your visit. Leaving you alone seems unwise, given the level of notoriety this criminal has earned.”

Jinhsi. She was probably right to be concerned. Scar hadn’t been easy to capture and the level of security surrounding his cell was testament to his abilities. One slip up meant escape. On the other hand, Rover couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something uneasy in her gut.

“I’ll be vigilant. Your priority should be to keep him detained, not my safety,” she turned and laid a hand on the older guard’s arm, looking up at him through her lashes. “If anything happens I’ll call for you, I promise." She squeezed his bicep for good measure.

The guard shifted, clearing his throat. He gave a nod and gestured for his companion to leave, giving her a tight squeeze on the shoulder in parting, finally leaving the room. The metal door slid shut behind them with a hiss.

Left alone in the quiet room together, Scar was quick to quirk a brow. “I didn’t know you were capable of using your appeal like that. The poor man will be thinking about your pretty face for days. Be careful such tactics don’t land you in hot water.”

Rover crossed her arms over her chest, avoiding his probing gaze. “We likely don’t have much time so I’ll get straight to the point: how are they treating you in here?”

More open surprise flitted across his face. It was such a sharp contrast to his usually unflappable, grinning persona. Scar tilted his head and gave an impish grin. “How interesting! You surely didn’t come all the way here just to inquire after my wellbeing. Did Madame Magistrate put you up to this? A new tactic to get me to talk?” He chuckled, rattling the poles with the force of his stifled laughter. “It’s impressive, I’ll give her that.  Very compelling. I’d much rather talk to you than anyone else in this forsaken place, even if it becomes an interrogation.”

Solitary confinement certainly hasn’t impacted his ability to talk, Rover noted dryly. His voice sounded slightly hoarse to her ears though. “Just answer the question.”

Scar’s mirth died down, smile turning patronizing. “Much like our little game in the village, I’ll let you work out the truth for yourself. Truth is always better as a wonderful discovery, rather than fodder fed to you by someone else.”

Shifting her weight, Rover took one step closer, then another. His predatory smile widened at her proximity, flashing teeth at her steady approach.

Thinking things over, Rover glanced at his torso. His tight red and gray bodysuit revealed his proportions a bit too well at times, but it hid everything of his skin.  

Well if she wanted answers she could just ask his body directly. 

Rover reached out and poked beneath his ribs.

“Gn!” a harsh breath hissed out through clenched teeth, his whole frame shuddering. Scar grinned soon after, shooting her a wary look. 

“Wasn’t much of a wonderful discovery, was it?” Rover drawled, reaching behind her hip and taking out a container. She shook it, depositing food rations out onto her open palm. Maintaining eye-contact, she bit into the dried meat, chewing and watching how his attention dropped to her lips. His mouth thinned into a hard, grim line. 

The sound of a stomach rumbling filled the room. 

“We’re two for two,” she noted, securing the container again and taking out her water bottle. His gaze was immediately wide and imploring, gazing at it longingly. 

Rover sighed, offering the rim of the bottle out to him. “I don’t think I need any more evidence. Just drink already.” 

Scar lifted his head, that unusual pale white hair of his sliding into mismatched eyes. She’d been able to look into them once before, when he’d initially been apprehended. One flinty gray, the other a dull red. She’d been distracted back then, but without so much as a window inside the room to draw her attention away, Rover could admit there was something beckoning about his appearance. He wasn’t unattractive by any means- though she quickly shook that thought away.

At his uncharacteristic silence, Rover frowned. Putting the pieces together, she lowered the bottle. “It’s not poisoned if that’s what worries you.”

He laughed. “Oh dear sweet Rover. I don’t think you're capable of poisoning anyone. Far too earnest for such underhanded methods,” he shook his head. “No, no. It’s not you I doubt. Madame Magistrate though- and those guards? They’d jump at the chance to slip a member of the Fractsidus a little something. What’s more, they have the perfect little scapegoat right here.”

Inferring his meaning, Rover’s blood ran cold, becoming uncomfortably aware of her position. “...They wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t they?” he purred, leaning as close as he dared, heedless of the spikes threatening to puncture his skin. “I’ve told you so many times now not to misplace your trust. Especially not in those you barely know: and with amnesia making you so ripe for manipulation its a recipe for hurt,” he practically sighed the words. His tone was casual, but he was smiling, very, very widely. “If you really did come here of your own accord, they’ll mark this day on your record. A smear. They’ll have eyes on you, watching your every move- anticipating the day you turn traito-!”

Rover shoved the water bottle against his lips. She tilted it up, pushing her fingers into the gaps between the collar spikes to try to alleviate their pressure against his neck. “Just drink. You talk too much.”

Scar made a noise, spilling some liquid- water running down his chin, before he gave in and ultimately drank. He gasped as soon as it seemed to register how thirsty he really was, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed with heightening desperation. 

Once finished, Rover lifted the bottle away, noting the faint sneer of his mouth. 

Cutting her gaze to the ceiling, she lifted the bottle to her lips and titled it back, catching the rest of the remaining water on her tongue. “There. If they want to poison you, they’ll take me out too in the process.”

He blinked rapidly, the derision quickly falling from his expression. He glanced at her hand still woven between the spikes and collar, registering her touch for the first time. 

“You’re such a strange existence,” he murmured softly, turning the full force of his attention onto her. Rover felt her gut lurch the second heat touched his cheeks, reddening them. “If you’re not careful, you’ll win more than just my attention. I’m already serious about obtaining you for the group. If I started to want you for myself…hmn…” a rumbling noise of contentment escaped the depths of his chest. “Just picture it; two black sheep. Ostracized from their herds for different reasons, but finding solace in each other’s jaws. A beautiful picture.”

Rover took out her food ration, bumping it against his mouth to try to prompt him to eat again and hopefully stop talking. “I do one nice thing and you’re talking as though we’re meant for each other,” she sighed, glancing at the door. “I don’t know how long we have left. Eat.”

Opening his mouth, Scar accepted her offering, chewing while staring at her with that keen light in his eyes. 

Seeking to snuff it out, Rover straightened, bearing down upon him with what she hoped was an intimidating glare. “Let’s not get carried away here, Scar. You’ve murdered people in cold blood. You’re still planning on hurting my friends if you ever get out of here. Nothing’s changed between us, are we clear?” she said firmly.

“Crystal,” he swallowed, bypassing her glare to look up at the ceiling with a dreamy gaze he sometimes gained, voice becoming light hearted. “I’ve no plans to hurt your friends specifically though. All that matters is you and me in the grand scheme of things. I really couldn’t care less about those outside of our circle enough to actively target them. It all just sort of…happens in the moment when they come between our little talks.”

Releasing his steel collar now that he’d eaten, Rover made to back away- only for him to lunge- the poles shrieking, collar straining against his neck.

Their noses brushed, breath intermingling. Rover froze up, all her instincts she’d naturally fallen into when fighting Tacet Discords blurred away into nothingness. Her heartbeat slammed into her ribcage. She couldn’t move suddenly. 

The instability she’d glimpsed so many times in his gaze was back with full force. A kind of euphoric high brightened his irises. “You haven’t asked me anything about Fractsidus! I find that so strange and fun. If you were here on Madame Magistrates orders, you’d be going back empty handed. So…” Scar’s lips ghosted her cheek without pressing down, resting snugly against the shell of her ear. “Why did you really come here?”

Goosebumps raised on her skin. Rover yanked her head back, summoning her best poker face to look at him dispassionately. “I’ll let you work out the truth for yourself,” she said. “Truth is always better as a wonderful discovery, rather than fodder fed to you by someone else.”

She then grasped him under the ribs, threatening to squeeze whatever injuries lay hidden beneath his clothes. Scar inhaled sharply against her cheek- before falling into a sinfully low groan. 

His exhale was shaky, relishing the pain. “You truly are magnificent at whetting my appetite, Rover. A sublime prey.” 

When their pupils next met, Rover’s widened, finding those gray and red eyes equal parts deranged and manic.

Scar laughed when she broke away, his shoulders shaking with mirth. She stiffly moved back toward the safety of the door, banging on it twice with her fist.

His uproarious laughter followed her all the way out, ringing in her ears long after the steel door had shut behind her. She stood amongst the concerned guards, shying away from their casual touches. 

“Are you alright, miss?”

“Did the interrogation go well?”

Rover looked at the younger guard sharply. “I didn’t go in there to interrogate him,” she gritted out, curling her gloved hands into fists. She stepped closer. “There’s no light switched on in there when he's alone. He’s malnourished and dehydrated. What’s more, the guards are delivering corporal punishment behind closed doors. This was an informal inspection, sir. One which you failed.”

His face turned red comically fast. “M-my lady! What would you have us do?! He’s an S rank criminal! We’re too concerned he may escape if we ease up his living conditions.”

“Besides that, he’s a murderer-” the older guard cut in. His eyes narrowed, roving around her face critically. “If you have any sympathy for that man, save it for his innocent victims.”

She rounded on him with a hard sneer. “I don’t condone his actions. However, there’s too much we don’t know- and letting him die means allowing his knowledge and information to die with him. I won’t let that happen if I can help it,” she muttered, turning on her heel and storming down the hallway the way she’d come. Changes would be coming swiftly to Scar’s living situation if she had anything to say about it. Without her memories, information was more important to Rover than anything, and perhaps losing Scar didn't matter to the Jinzhou officials- but it mattered to her.

She could feel their judgemental gazes boring into her back. Maybe it had already started. No, it had started the second she’d requested a visitation without being ordered to see him. Rover half expected Scar’s warning to come true- for the various Jinzhou officials and citizens to start suspecting her of fraternizing with the Fractsidus.

That was fine with her. Though he unnerved her, something about Scar kept forcing Rover to pay attention to him. That no matter how strange and misleading his words were- there was a grain of truth to them somewhere. 

Or, perhaps, he’d been a complete and utter liar from the very start, designed to make her doubt herself and everyone around her.

Either way, Rover saw the value in finding out the truth for herself.