#it’s funny this keeps happening because he seems like a fairly well-adjusted adult??

[skyward-floored]

I keep giving IAU Sky panic attacks and it’s not even on PURPOSE things just keep happening to him and he ignores it until suddenly he is just not ok

[silenthillmutual]

daniil dankovsky is autistic and here’s why:

because i’m autistic and i said so

i kid, obviously. what sort of autistic person would i be if i wasn’t read to back up my silly little claim with an overly long post of evidence a total of three people will read? (hi ned hi jordan hi raven :))

i’m aware that this is cringey because adults aren’t supposed to have autism or interests or talk about either of those things, but this is my blog and you are free to block me if the cringe is too much for you.

these are some things i picked out from the DSMV’s diagnostic criteria, found on the CDC website:

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

abnormal social approach

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

defecits in [���] understand[ing] relationships

difficults adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

repetitive motor movements or speech

rigid thinking patterns

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input

there’s also some misc. stuff not in the diagnostic criteria (though it may be in the adir or gars-3) i thought was worth noting.

important note from the diagnostic criteria: “symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning”. i’d say that in his case, they do.

spoilers for pathologic classic, pathologic 2, and the marble nest

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

in bachelor route of classic, daniil

seems completely oblivious to eva making advances toward him, to the point where she complains to him that he’s ignoring her in favor of asking questions about simon.

seems surprised when people mention maria being in love with him, despite outright asking her a couple of times if she’s flirting with him.

not to mention the fact that he asks her that at all.

his inability or resistence to making connections with others is typically considered one of his character flaws. although it is not outright stated in the dsmv criteria, one trait of autism and other neurodivergencies is “having extremely high or extremely low empathy” - and daniil, despite being a doctor, lacks empathy. which is not to say he doesn’t care at all. i think that he does, but is terrible at showing it.

for example, this scene from marble nest:

Sticky: You must feel terrible… right? That’s fine. I forgive you. You just got confused… Adults always do. Daniil: Oh yes, adults are always occupied with the most asinine nonsense. Like feeling anxious that a bunch of urchins keep roaming the streets, putting themselves in mortal danger!

daniil clearly cares about sticky’s wellbeing (and the wellbeing of the kids looking after him, though he’s not cognizant that he’s in a coma), but his way of showing it is… kind of by being a jerk. all of which bleeds into the next item on the list

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

he has no problem sharing his interests, but in both pathologic classic & pathologic 2, daniil speaks with a flat affect - which is to say that he lacks intonation. the words we read him saying may be dramatic or come across as passionate, but the actual voice reading his lines is very monotone, which may contribute to being read as lacking emotion.

and in pathologic 2, he has a voiceline lamenting not telling “her” (eva?) how he felt

in marble nest, he’s teased by the tragedians for being “heartless”:

Tragedian: Maybe. Possibly. But it’s useless to explain to a heartless man. …Take heart, Excellency! If you ever find it, that is. And then come back to us… Even though it all sounds like a rather implausible turn of events.

abnormal social approach

daniil has a tendency to say things that are tactless, odd, or just socially inappropriate. i probably don’t need to point out too many examples, as i think it’s fairly obvious - these are the things people love to pick at when it comes to him, but i do have a few in mind. like, for example, from haruspex route in classic:

Haruspex: What of the antibodies essential for making a serum? Bachelor: I don’t know for sure yet, I’ll send you a report in a few hours. Don’t go about cutting people’s hearts out for your panacea until then. It’s a… controversial solution, you know… Haruspex: What?! Do you even hear yourself? Bachelor: Sorry! I meant no offence… it was just a momentary lapse of… well, you know. Haruspex: None taken.

until artemy points out, daniil doesn’t seem to be aware he just said something rude. even with therapy, picking up on social cues doesn’t come naturally to people with autism, so we tend to say things that come across as rude or strange to others without realizing we’ve put them off. we tend to lack a “filter” that tells us when things are or are not appropriate to say. even when we may recognize it, the rules may not make any sense to us. for example, it makes very little sense that allistics favor politeness over honesty.

i think the glaringly obvious abnormal social approach in pathologic 2 is him threatening to hold artemy at gunpoint to get in the house, which is just overkill, but my personal favorite comes on day 7, when he’s complaining about the orders aglaya has given him. artemy stops him to say he doesn’t understand what daniil wants from him, to which daniil replies:

From you? Oh, nothing. I was just sharing.

to daniil, they were just having a normal conversation. but some part of this - his tone or his words or maybe even his body language - didn’t give artemy the impression that this was supposed to be a regular conversation. (we could, in fact, attribute the same idea to artemy here; why didn’t artemy pick up that this was a normal conversation? the reason i count it towards daniil is because artemy doesn’t seem to have this problem with anybody else. for the record: i don’t think artemy is neurotypical either.)

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

it’s hard to get proof of this in video games, but i will say i think it’s very funny that in pathologic 2 daniil’s idle animations are “pacing”, “sitting like he desperately wants to start bouncing his knees but is stopping himself from doing it”, and “standing unnaturally still” - but there you go. i don’t know anything about making gifs, or i’d gif this one specific talk menu idle he does where he holds eye contact for about three seconds, looks away uncomfortably, and then looks back out of the corner of his eyes.

deficits in […] understand[ing] relationships

mostly examples from his route in classic:

when the army arrives, he can claim to block that aglaya, whom he’s known for two days, is his best friend

he seems baffled by the fact that everone is smitten with maria and working with her, and seems equally baffled by the idea that she’s smitten with him

despite eva implying on day two that she is in a relationship with andrey, is completely blindsided by the revelation on day 6, asking him, “How in the world is she ‘your woman’?”

i’d also like to use his sign-off on his letter to artemy, day 2 of the haruspex route - he signs it as “Your friend (hopefully)”. i know i’m not the only autistic person who used to ask people if we were friends or not. pro tip, if you’ve never done this: don’t. it really weirds people out.

difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

the fact that he stands out is blatantly obvious even in pathologic 2 and in the haruspex route of classic. people will comment on him being an outsider and mention that they don’t trust him. but you can watch it happen in real time in his route, because he never fully acclimates to the town. he says something about this to aglaya on day 7:

Bachelor: Was there any particularly notable backstory? I’m deadly tired of all these people. They’re inhuman. They tell the future, believe in walking zombies, and die in all manners of painfully abnormal ways. Inquisitor: Your line of t hinking is obviously falacious - and I was implying something rather mundane. I promise you, no one can really tell the future around here: and neither are deaths inspired by third parties uncommon. Mysterious phenomenons do occur here sometimes… but hardly more often than anywhere else.

actually, there’s an example of him saying something similar to artemy on day 5 in pathologic 2:

Damn this town… I feel I’m trapped in a nightmare. The absurdity of it all… There’s no one to talk to. Everyone’s so volatile. They all seem to want to help, but… their help is worse than hostility.

some of this can be explained by the town’s strangeness, but keep in mind that the first instance happens after he’s been there and involved in the ongoing for an entire week, and the second at nearly a week in. clearly he’s struggling to adjust to the changes.

it’s also worth noting that his reason for fleeing the town in the nocturnal ending?

I have no place here anymore.

This town is no longer mine. No longer human. No longer rational. It doesn’t… accept the likes of me anymore.

repetitive motor movements or speech

it’s harder to see the motor movements in classic, but remember how i pointed out earlier that he paces? pacing is a form of stimming. murky, who is canonically autistic, can also be found pacing as one of her idle animations. having stock phrases for characters to speak when you come near them already ticks off the box on “repetitive speech”, but that by itself doesn’t really cover what they’re talking about - echolalia.

but you know what this does fit with? “‘quoting’ things(communication is HARD! sometimes we need to take shortcuts and use someone else’s words)“

i’ll get to the more obvious example in a minute - i want to point out something that happens very early in pathologic 2 first. you know how you first meet him and artemy accuses daniil of trying to guilt-trip him by asking if it’s true that isidor would still be alive if artemy had come sooner? keep in mind that he spoke to rubin first. and this is what rubin says, when you get a chance to talk to him:

Yesterday, I was told you had killed your father.

That’s not far from the truth, Burakh.

You betrayed him. You left when he needed you most. He cried out for your help, but you didn’t care. He was in peril, and you were too busy elsewhere, He believed, truly believed, that your arrival would put an end to his troubles. And, as always, he was right.

i’m not saying this was necessarily the game’s intent, but it’s entirely possible daniil is parroting back to artemy exactly what rubin said to him.

now, for what you’re probably expecting in this section: the latin. people love to refer to his use of latin as “random”, so let’s clear that up:

it is not latin daniil has made up. with the exception of latin that is mispelled in the game’s texts, all of them are proverbs or otherwise common sayings. you can find most of them on the wikipedia list of latin phrases, or through a 3-second google search.

he’s a doctor. him having taken latin isn’t anymore strange than a lawyer taking latin. in fact, if you pay attention, artemy also took latin; this is implied when artemy tells him he’s always sucked at it.

his uses of latin actually aren’t random at all. what he says fits the situation, and sometimes is used in place of him having to come up with something to say on his own.

prime example:

Forget it, Burakh. I have a splitting headache. If you have no urgent business, then we’ll talk later. Later, later… Qui non proficit, deficit.

qui non proficit, deficit - he who does not advance, loses ground. in other words, “i’m sorry, but i really do need to keep working.” one of his voice lines.

as for why he doesn’t translate the latin: it probably wouldn’t even occur to him to. these are not obscure sayings. the utopians all have a certain degree of education - what would he need to translate them for?

this bleeds into something that isn’t really mentioned, but that i’ve found i have a lot of trouble with in everyday life. autistic people have a tendency to either overexplain (and then have everyone get mad at you because they feel you’re being condescending) or underexplain (and have everyone get mad at you because you haven’t explained anything). the latin would be a case where it feels like a justified underexplanation. you’ll notice that when it comes to anything scientific, he tends to do the reverse, and overexplain. this also happens in classic, whether artemy has asked him to clarify or not.

rigid thinking patterns

the thing i had marked for this was simply his strict adherence to western medical practices and refusal to acknowledge the supernatural, even when it seems obvious - he has a conversation in his route in classic with yulia about this, and that is in fact how he manages to get to her: by asking saburov if there are any other logical skeptics in town. it should be noted they seem to be breaking with this in pathologic 2, where one of his voicelines is “I’m no positivist. There are things in this world beyond our mundane perception.” i have no idea where they’re planning on going with that.

there’s also a quote floating somewhere around twitter about him having been raised by a military man, and militaries tend to enforce very rigid routines. you could say the same thing of block - who (in classic at least) i also have my suspicions about.

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

special interests. the one that should obviously come to mind is thanatology, though i would argue latin if not classics in general is a special interest of his as well - in addition to his usage of latin, he also references pericles in the marble nest and was probably refering to the roman occupation of haruspicy in addition to augurs in the same text. he also makes references to shakespeare more than once in both marble nest and pathologic 2.

hyper- or hyperoreactivity to sensory input

i don’t have much written down for this one but there seem to be several places in classic especially where he asks npcs to stop shouting at him. we don’t really have the privilege to know their volume or how they’re interacting with him, but i think it’s also worth noting that he’s the only one of the healers who wears gloves. in pathologic 2 he’s the only named character i can think of who wears them at all. his thing in the lucid dream about the brain being “a border”? gloves are his border, as is his jacket, which may be worn to cut down on sensory issues.

he will also sometimes seem to “overreact” to the situation at hand - such as in classic, when some dogheads mispeak and say that daniil is going to “sterilize” them, and instead of understanding that they must have mispoken, freaks out over the idea that they think they’re going to be… well… sterilized. or in haruspex route, when his reaction to the inquisitor arriving is to threaten suicide.

miscellaneous

he never goes anywhere without that carpet bag. we don’t see it in pathologic 2, but we do hear about it and he doesn’t let it go for a second in classic - not even in the cutscenes where he’s using the microscope. his bag could be a comfort item.

“getting very attached to things like inanimate objects” could work for the bag - but you know what it actually fits the bill much more obviously? the polyhedron. in the haruspex route he recognizes that it’s a lost cause, but he’s still too attached to it to let it go.

in classic at least, daniil is absolutely terrible at lying. most autistic people either are not good at lying, or feel uncomfortable or anxious with having to lie. when he’s asked by yulia and the kids in the polyhedron to lie to block (for different reasons) he’s clearly uncomfortable with the idea that it’ll work. and when it actually comes time to come up with a way to lie to block about why he needs five rifles, your options are to either buckle and tell him the truth, or simply say that you need them for “self-defense”. block believes that you’re not lying to him, but daniil can’t come up with any embeleshments to explain why he needs what he’s asking for.

Commander: Are you hiding something from me? Bachelor: No.

he comes across as naive to other characters. in classic, capella has a voiceline saying, “The Bachelor is not smart. Intelligent, yes… but not smart.” in Pathologic 2, Daniil complains that Aglaya takes him for “a useless dreamer”. he’s also easily used by the Kains to fulfill their endgame in classic.

my final, and absolute favorite: he takes things way too literally. autistic people (and adhd people, from my understanding) have a hard time differentiating jokes and sarcasm. so my favorite moment in marble nest is a case of him taking that earlier advice - to “take heart” literally, by bringing the tragedians a literal human heart:

Tragedian: Oh… Excellency. What a sordid sight! Sorry for underestimating you. You definitely do have… how shall I put it… a creative touch. But this is pure madness. You can’t take things so literally! Daniil: You wanted me to come back to you with an open heart. Well, here I am. …It looked too fitting to be a coincidence.

your mind map, after this, updates to say “I misunderstood the tragedians.”

conclusion

people don’t stop being autistic with age and i think he’s a good example of what it’s like to be in your late 20s and be autistic. i’m sure i missed things as i haven’t finished haruspex route of classic yet and there may just be some other things he does or says that i missed! if anyone has anything to add they think fits i would love to know, thank you for your time :)

[plounce]

my Concepts for aj2

so these are my thoughts and ideas about the game that would follow aa4 in a timeline where we got a coherent apollo trilogy rather than aa5 and aa6. as such, i am discarding aa5 and aa6′s apollo backstories because i find them incoherent as an arc and only slapped onto him for the plots of the games. etc etc. theorizing on squandered potential is me-bait. trucy and klavier get to have THEIR place in the narrative as important characters!! (sorry athena. you will get your own trilogy with good writing and a better design in this timeline too)

this is very stream of consciousness and while i think it’s fairly coherent it is also not chronologically organized as i build on ideas. i am genuinely sorry if the read more doesn’t work on mobile because this thing is stupid long.

containing:

apollo, trucy, and klavier being a firm Trio and getting character development and growing closer :)

themes about found family, letting yourself love/be loved, performance and persona, love giving you strength to do good, you being the one to determine your identity

exploration of the trio’s backstories and the development of their skills

prosecutor franziska chipping away at the corruption within the legal system

klavier being the assistant for a case

kristoph continuing to be a corrupt bastard

buildup to the sibling reveal & canon klapollo in the conclusion of the trilogy

- apollo is the main character

- phoenix is absent for like the entire game besides maybe a couple tiny flashbacks, later revealed to be working with edgeworth on anti-corruption stuff (which is also tied to kristoph & kristoph’s ties within the legal system, “old boys club” etc)

- trucy is assistant for first half of the game

- klavier is assistant for second half of the game. his hair is in a little bun or ponytail :) no drill hair for THIS individual person

- klavier is prosecutor for trucy assistant cases. in the 3rd case klavier was supposed to prosecute against apollo but things keep getting fishier and fishier and things keep reminding them of kristoph. klavier is ordered off the case from on high. mysterious replacement. klavier is too invested in seeing truth & justice come to light so he helps apollo

- franziska prosecutes cases 3 & 4. she has short hair and it’s super sexy and hot.

- kristoph set things up so that klavier is implicated in things. dig into how klavier and apollo feel unable to escape kristoph’s influence - “he’s too foundational”

- 4th case klavier is on trial. oh maybe 3 isn’t about kristoph but it’s just background stuff about the rampup to the 4th case - klavier is put on probation while things are investigated but he doesn’t know WHY, but he’s still committed to his ideals

- trucy is pursuing her magic career, klavier still loves music - has been releasing solo stuff maybe, just some EPs for free/charity, but isn’t touring. focusing on law

- case 4 has a family friend (NOT A WOMAN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD... A MALE DAMSEL PLEASE) get accidentally poisoned through something klavier gave them. that’s the trial itself. kristoph was the source. klavier is arrested. it’s more complicated that this but it gets to this point. day 2 of the trial is when klavier is implicated and he gets yanked into cuffs from the defense bench

- one of case 4′s pillars is a memory from the gavin brothers’ childhood. discuss how kristoph was as a child. klavier has been realizing how... odd certain things were, and trying to pass it off as like “haha yeah kristoph would dissect dead birds and convince our parents that every mess was my fault. i guess that makes sense considering how he ended up haha? I Don’t Feel Strongly About This I Just Think It’s Funny :)”

- apollo’s perceive abilities expanding to be able to perceive general emotional states as well - along with learning to practice more empathy, being considerate. No Klavier And Trucy, You Are Not Fine. this is kind of like athena’s thing actually huh

- trucy, meanwhile, is learning to be more like. emotionally... independent? no. emotionally... self-caring. both independent in that she’s a young adult and also caring in that she is trying not to force herself to take care of everyone all the time and show her less pretty emotions to apollo. take care of herself

- case 1 has to do with something happening at trucy’s show/her career/her school etc. she’s still a real person etc. trucy’s friends mostly being adults, her feeling isolated at school. nah wait this is a slightly absurd world she’s not overly weird for her classmates necessarily. yeah ok it’s about magic

- case 2 has to do with klavier being a rockstar, the pressure of celebrity and public fascination with his persona. stalker fans, music industry, talk shows, etc. someone trying to convince him to come back to music. klavier has to arrest someone he’s fond of again. no big stadium performance in this game

- the trio all dealing with themes of hiding and trying not to feel “bad” emotions: apollo going “im fine” and suppressing his problems & just trying to do his job so he can cope with how overwhelmed & stressed he feels constantly etc etc + trucy hiding the secrets of her magic which is sort of representative of her hiding a lot of her sad/”ugly” feelings because she thinks she needs to because she thinks phoenix depends on her being cheerful all the time + klavier dealing with having a public persona and the pressures of being Himself, trying to be the person others see him as/want him to be, who is klavier when he is not performing? who are all of them when they are not performing? who are they performing for?

- yes i am a “woman” yes i am obsessed with the idea of performance

- trio all dealing with/feeling lonely wrt family: apollo learning more about jove (possibly during the music industry case - someone knew his dad, who refused a big contract), who he was & one of the cases involving someone from his past in the foster system - maybe it’s even clay! - but in general feeling very disconnected from “family” in general esp compared to trucy&klavier’s family troubles being so immediate and raw for them + trucy feeling lonely and kind of abandoned as phoenix is increasingly gone in this game and seeming very distant from her, similar to how zak abandoned her, and also the pains of growing up + klavier’s parents either are dead or are somewhat estranged after he got kristoph imprisoned, klavier feeling very lonely in general after his pursuit of truth&justice has snipped many of his connections from him

- yes i am gay yes i am obsessed with found family

- franziska having a moment of “i get how it is and it sucks” with klavier about Complicated Feelings About Family

- she eventually does realize during case 4 that klavier is guilty but has to hide it in order to push one of kristoph’s allies out into the open. sorry kid uh... what do you like. i will buy you. an ice cream? or something. look do you want a gift card i’ll buy you a gift card

- kristoph’s lawyer shows up near the start of the game to give things to apollo which he is deeply suspicious of but ema tests them and they come up clean. guy shows up here and there throughout the game. maybe tries to bribe apollo or something. apollo gets invited to a Fancy Lunch because he’s the one that bested kristoph gavin and that shows Promise. in a sense. or something. apollo being manipulated by people who refused to hire him when he got kristoph convicted etc

- themes about being young in a world full of secrets and webs of alliance that you feel barred from because you have ideals and won’t compromise them and also either come from nothing or burned all your bridges. just aa protag things <3

- oh maybe there’s a new judge who is also In On Nefarious Plots

- catching these people doesn’t fix everything but - it’s something. they got a couple shitheads

- trucy continues developing her gramarye abilities. more emotional depth. more exploration on complex feelings wrt phoenix and her childhood and her adolescence and how she’s fairly well-adjusted as one can be but also... the shit still hits yk... she’s like 16 years old so she’s maturing

- ema is there. she and apollo get along a bit better. asks after phoenix. provides evidence against klavier, and then evidence for.

- followup on apollo-edgeworth klavier-phoenix parallels - who is the one bringing them further into the light, chaser/chased, the one who wants more/the one who pushes away, etc etc

- follow through on implied gramarye mafia connections

- klavier isn’t super in the first case besides the courtroom and maybe one appearance, but he is like. worried about trucy if there is cause to be worried about her. set up their dynamic beyond trucy just liking the gavinners

- trucy&apollo and klavier&kristoph compares&contrast

- franziska is(/appears to be) very doubting/dismissive of apollo’s belief in klavier bc it’s like... are you pursuing the truth? or trying to shield your friend?

- apollo does end up almost very close believing klavier was in kahoots with kristoph/kristoph’s friends because it just looks. really bad. like it genuinely looks VERY BAD. and he’s like “i have to find truth like prosecutor von karma said”. yknow how with a lot of aa cases it starts out “oh no it looks open and shut” and then is like “NO WAY THEY COULD HAVE DONE IT... BUT HUH”. this one is reverse. and then straightens back out again. dig the hole then climb back out

- yeah the theme is like. “are you trying to find truth or do you want to protect your loved ones. what is your duty as a person, your job or your loved ones.” this carries through on klavier’s thread from aa4 where he has to work against his loved ones. meanwhile apollo, who is a bit more cool-tempered irritable grump, is the one going “oh god, am i biased towards my friends?” so it sort of flips. what kind of stories will you weave to clear your friends of blame? kristoph’s boys club.

- echo back to “evidence is everything” - this line of thinking (in a certain way) is what saves klavier when kristoph is trying to punish him for his betrayal

- since phoenix is away, the gramarye siblings aren’t revealed yet. but more info is dropped to compensate - stuff about jove and apollo’s childhood in the foster system and how that’s shaped him into someone who keeps people at arm’s length to keep himself safe; trucy and apollo getting closer despite that, trucy busting down those barriers because she needs his support and he’s like “oh my god i have to support her.” older sibling stuff.

- maybe the trucy case involves like. a mafia guy trying to collect on debts or smth and tries to ruin trucy, and threatens apollo. there’s a hint that is very obvious to the audience but is like “wow apollo he thought you were my brother!” like the mafia guy calls apollo “the other child” and apollo is like “hey, i’m 24!” which is humorous but also the audience is like Oh My God I Know What That Means

- there isn’t a deliberate withholding of information from phoenix - he literally is not there to withhold it. but there is still tension and stakes and weight to their relation - apollo keenly feeling his absence of family and trucy feeling sort of abandoned by phoenix

- phoenix is like “ok trucy you’re almost an adult so i’m trusting you to stay safe and responsible while i’m away. apollo will technically be in charge but i’m still trusting you” and privately to apollo is like “If Anything Bad Happens To Her. Your Head Is On The Line.” so it is just them making it on their own

- klavier drops the line “watching you two is like what kristoph and i should have had” and then there’s a couple “...” dialogue boxes as the audience is like I KNOW WHAT HE MEANS and then apollo is like “... are you for real comparing me to kristoph.” haha funny but also THERE IT IS

- very carefully walked tightrope. acknowledged enough that there is still tension/suspense around it but not too much as to be slightly infuriating

- before the last case trucy gets mad at apollo for something - trucy is allowed by the narrative to be angry for real. stand up for herself. trucy and apollo come back together to defend klavier. they see each other in the detention center when theyre still mad at each other - trucy was visiting klavier (he wasn’t there for the fight). “you made fraulein trucy very mad, hm?” then during the trial trucy busts in dramatically with important help when things look very bad for klavier

- aj3 has emotional revelations/high points of the trio - siblings reveal and klapollo canon. aj2 is a lot of building of these connections and building suspense and tension. more more more of these relationships before they emerge fully formed in aj3

- the last trial echoes the “im the only one who can save prosecutor gavin” or whatever gay thing apollo says in the last trial of aa4 because he literally is. just a lot of hinting and them getting along. case 3 is very important because that’s when it’s just them and it’s “oh! we work well together! we’re complementary!”

- implement the dual investigation mechanic from dgs so it does feel collaborative

- just build on the fact that klavier is the first friendly, helpful, cooperative prosecutor. he wants to help you. make that a very positive, very important feeling while still making it extremely enjoyable

- resolves in “you can have truth AND the ones you love”. or smth like that but more nuanced. it’s very inspirational and sentimental etc

- you get to meet vongole and it’s a Pet The Dog moment for klavier. look! how nice he is. he truly loves this insanely sweet and lovable dog. trucy is enamored with vongole as well. “it’s strange that she was kristoph’s dog, hm? with how affectionate she is.” “well, i guess being owned by kristoph doesn’t means she’s an equally bad dog ... ER i mean--” “hm, you always struck me as a cat person, herr forehead?” “uh - well yeah, you’re right. but... that doesn’t mean i don’t think vongole is a pretty great dog.” IMPLICATIONS. SUBTEXT. TASTE IT IN THE AIR

- oh there’s definitely a moment in case 2 when you get to examine klavier’s apartment and you can look at a couple albums and for a gavinners album apollo is like “ugh” but then you get one of his solo eps and apollo is like “trucy made me listen to this. it... was okay. not as bad as the gavinners stuff. sounds more honest. or something like that.”

- oh also when you examine the guitar klavier offers to teach apollo some basics. hee hee (BUT ALSO... JOVE!!)

- maybe for case 2 The Industry Suits want klavier to stop releasing his eps for free/total charity so it’s a whole coordinated scheme. his manager, a devoted fan who hates to see him going his own way and being happier for it, etc. “we want you to be the person you were. the one we could possess.” be more like gavinners klavier instead of honest relaxed current klavier. be who we want you to be so we can make you dance like a puppet. music industry kristoph parallels.

- “i’m sick and tired of being a plaything for other people!” >:( face moments

- a fan broke into his house and defaced the solo stuff etc. >:( face.

- who determines who “you” are? what role do your loved ones have in your life? those who truly love you can save you and make you better. loving and being loved sincerely and genuinely and truly have positive effects on your life. letting people love you and letting yourself love them is good.

- ugh but this kind of contrasts with the “the old boys club is controlling and using/shaping the institution of law to amass wealth and power for themselves while throwing others under the bus.” well actually wait

- lunch with apollo = they don’t actually care about each other, would throw each other under the bus for their own benefit

- contrast between sacrificing the weak to protect the strong and protecting the weak to depower the evil strong

- love and bonds can motivate/enable you to chip away at the system and can help you make a difference. les mis etc etc etc

- the old boys club are all putting up fronts of appearing strong and tough and above everything and in control. real love and friendship let you show vulnerability and weakness and help you & your bond come out stronger for it. (tumblr voice) the mortifying ordeal

- additional stakes of “if you are found aiding this criminal and hiding evidence etc etc we will disbar you” or smth. stakes for sticking with klavier, for winning the trial, for demonstrating care. franziska is kind of like “... apologies. but you had nothing to worry about so don’t worry about it.” 

- klavier and apollo damned by association with kristoph, especially as a kristoph scheme was just found to happen, and it depended on kristoph being in jail, so maybe they were the ones to enable that part of the plan... it’s a long con...

- it feels like there should be another legal reform here to make aa4′s jury implementation but maybe this one is more about how reform is often very gradual and like chipping away at a mountain

- in aj3 the death penalty gets reformed. (tension there about kristoph being on death row and this game piles on a lot more GOD KRISTOPH SUCKS but then it’s like. no. we have to fight for True Justice and the legal system is extremely imperfect (how many of our clients narrowly avoided a wrongful guilty verdict!) so we have to prioritize protection over punishment)

- “it’s like chopping heads off the hydra. it feels like we’ll never actually change anything.” “yes, but hercules didn’t defeat it by himself. he had a partner that burned the stumps after he sliced off the heads. ... one person to hold the sword, one person to hold the torch.” NARUMITSU KLAPOLLO PARALLELS. HI

- okay i had some really good discussions on twitter w @henriettamarias about this and here’s a couple more things

- trucy’s case involves her inheriting the gramarye secrets and the legacy. the weight of tradition and the burden of what has happened in her family. trucy’s estranged grandmother shows up - it’s kind of similar to the feys kind of. the grandmother is a complex maternal figure who doesn’t know trucy and trucy doesn’t know her and it’s sort of the idea of... even if your “new” family is related by blood, you still have to choose them. and trucy’s like !!! because she’s openhearted but the grandmother disappears - doesn’t choose trucy. it’s not a Villainous Action it’s just... it’s complicated. maybe it’s to protect trucy or something. it wasn’t done to hurt trucy is what i’m getting at, but it still hurts

- one of the music industry people in klavier’s case is a gavin uncle/aunt/cousin who is pressuring him to go back to being an Extremely Profitable Rockstar. and klavier has to deal with more disappointment from a family that values extreme success and is sort of cold (this contrasts with the warmth of the WAA found family). they liked klavier when he was very successful and famous on two fronts but now he’s opened the door and invited in shame on their family’s name so everyone’s kind of mad at him. trucy and apollo get to be really defensive of him

- apollo’s case is one i’m still thinking on what it’ll be about because i’m deeply uninterested in his aa5+aa6 backstories but there’s not A Concept to go deeper into like trucy magic and klavier music... it does involve his past from being the foster system. i think maybe there’s a teen who he was kind of the older brother of for a while before the kid got adopted who contacts him for help defending himself.

- while trucy and klavier’s stories are about rejection from their blood family, apollo’s is about warmth with a boy who he met and made a familial bond with

- at the end of this case there’s some piece of evidence that mentions kristoph and this is never resolved within that case but it sort of leads into the next kristoph-focused case

- trucy doesn’t get angry at apollo over being like jealous there’s something else that happens in this case... it doesn’t end super satisfyingly and tidily wrapped up in a neat bow. there are a lot of lingering questions and it makes everyone uneasy

- in case 3 apollo gets injured and is feeling really defensive and kind of scared and trucy is upset with him for putting himself in harm’s way to save her and they have a fight and they’re both kind of hiding their true feelings with anger to cover up how scared they were (gramarye secrets) and it just. boils over. klavier tries to mediate but it’s... a lot. they both say some things they don’t mean. :(

- oh my god. the person who got poisoned in case 4 was apollo’s foster brother from case 3. and it HURTS because we’ve spent a whole case getting to know him and working so hard to save him from a guilty verdict and it’s like :D yay he’s ok! and then he just. dies. and it’s so fucking sad

- he got poisoned because kristoph looked through papers and found that him and apollo were close so he’s like “oh i can use that ^_^” because he’s a bastard. but klavier was the one in constant contact with him recently so it’s like UH OH! UH OH! plus other aa level complications etc

- the tightrope of trucy being mad at apollo and the tragedy of apollo’s foster brother dying is one that will have to be very carefully walked bc we don’t want trucy to look like an asshole because above all she does love apollo

- i guess it’s also apollo pushing her away because I’M FINE. STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME CONFRONT MY TRAUMA. IF I THINK ABOUT MY PROBLEMS I WILL GO INSANE. yeah that works

- OH and also she’s mad at him for not telling them about the lunch with kristoph’s lawyer friends. klavier is kind of mad about that too so apollo is like STOP GANGING UP ON ME

- so the setup of case 4 is: day 1: apollo and klavier investigating, in court klavier is implicated and is put in detention, day 2: apollo investigating by himself and missing his friends :(, franziska being like “where is your sister” and apollo being like “ok first she’s not my sister. second IM FINE I CAN BE ALONE, I CAN’T TRUST ANYBODY ANYWAY” and franziska is like “... yeah being betrayed sucks, i get it, but like. are you sure about that. fine whatever you idiot be a fool”, but then in court trucy busts in at a dramatic moment and narrowly saves klavier from getting a guilty verdict, day 3: trucy and apollo investigating and Saving The Day!!!!!

- for franziska in case 4 there’s this tension between her belief that klavier is guilty (because shit looks BAD and also kristoph sort of sent shockwaves through things etc) and franziska being older (she has short hair and it’s hot) and more emotionally mature and being like “baby lawyer. it’s okay to chill. it’s fine. you’ll be okay”. but also being extremely wary and hating the corruption and collusion within the law community because MvF dealt with a lot of that and she will be BETTER than that, she has to work hard to erase the harm that her father did. she’s kind of a superhero in terms of tackling a lot of corrupt-lawyer/cop cases - it’s her specialty now. god she is hot

- aw in case 4 ema is like. kind of reluctant to help implicate klavier. because while she thinks he’s annoying she doesn’t think he’s a bad guy. she feels really conflicted :( like she blusters to cover it up but she does say to apollo at one point “hey... you better do your job right. don’t slack. defend your client.” awww she care him

- kristoph gets brought out from prison as a witness in case 4. this really negatively affects klavier (and apollo too kind of but less so), but the strength of Found Family helps him be strong :) yay

- there’s mention made of kristoph having Secrets, but since apollo doesn’t have a magatama and phoenix isn’t there, the black psyche-locks aren’t explored. it gets revealed in aj3

- apollo does have a conundrum similar to the aa5 stuff where his perceive ability is going haywire at klavier’s entire emotional state because BOY is it screwy (suppressed memories from childhood??) so he just has to rely on plain old logic

- (cw animal death) god what if one of those childhood memories is kristoph poisoning klavier’s pet - experimenting, doing trials. klavier realizes that during the trial. jesus christ. evil bastard kristoph i hate his guts. at least klavier gets to go home and pet vongole so so much

- OH on a happier note we get to meet mikeko... mikeko loves trucy and klavier so much. it’s like a big gooey hint that LOOK APOLLO LOVES THESE PEOPLE - HIS CAT IS PURRING AND CUDDLING ALL OVER THEM :) Express Your Feelings, Apollo

- i think for aj3 it’s apollo & co having their own schemes and plans sort of. bc in this setup, klavier and apollo (and trucy too) are being yanked around by the machinations and plots of the older generation like in aa4. i think in aj3 is when they finally get a leg up and have control over things for once. good for them! good for them

- oh also in aj3, it’s revealed that thalassa has been held hostage by some bad guys, which is why she didn’t come back after some time away to figure herself out to tell them. and then apollo and trucy get to know they’re siblings :)

- okay that’s it. maybe i’ll add more if i think of more. hope u enjoyed :~)

[soysaucecas]

oooh for the ask game 24, 30, and 44!

MAGPIE MY BELOVED HELLO

24. What are your favorite episodes?

The only episodes I've really watched are TMWWBK (which is my favorite episode and I'm certain would still be my favorite if I watched every single one because it has the only SPN character and the only SPN line), The French Mistake (which was funny enough but honestly in the Just Okay category for me, which makes me pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy actually watching SPN if this is one of the funniest/highest-rated eps), and Reading Is Fundamental (my best friend was watching it and asked me if I wanted to hop on Discord, I thought it might be fun to see Kevin's first introduction but instead this ep found the two of us taking like 90 minutes to get through it bc we kept pausing and screaming (derogatory) as the model minority stereotype jokes piled up and up and up... Unfortunately not a favorite even if we got Meg AND the "pull my finger" joke AND the "Sorry" shot). Other than TMWWBK, from clipping and transcript-reading, I like Wayward Sisters (who doesn't?), The Things We Left Behind (Claire!!!! Cas trying to be a dad! The diner scene aka my favorite destiel scene of all time bc being in love just looks so good on Cas! Also the parallels between Claire and Randy and teen Dean and the adults at that club in his story... woof.), Golden Time (Eileen gets to be HERE and be sad and loved and fight people with ghost powers and Cas gets to do a cool speech and a stabbing and do the Asian community a favor), and Lucifer Rising (just immensely sexy on all counts for Ruby, Sam, Cas, and myself). Also I am SO fond of Steve!Cas so I'll add Heaven Can't Wait even if I barely know anything about it.

30. What is an unpopular opinion or headcanon you have about the show?

Ooh okay hm I think. So I adore confession scene, but I don't think the "I cared about the whole world because of you" is like. The Objective Truth the way that most bloggers seem to take it. Cas was lobotomized tons of times before he met Dean, he was described as coming off the line with a crack in his chassis, he's always been the weird little angel who likes humanity too much! I don't think Dean came first, and although gay love was part of what helped Cas invent free will, he *Ruby voice* didn't need the feather to fly, Dumbo! I do think Cas believes what he says in the moment, but I also think he sorta... made himself believe it? This is probably just me deciding that cas-coding should go both ways, but like. I very much crush as a coping mechanism and I very much overascribe my actions to love because it simply seems more noble/poetic to do so. Being miserable because school is hard is cringefail but being miserable because of unrequited love is Good Shit. And I have been in unrequited love with my best friend for at least 7 years (probably 9 but I didn't realize it earlier) and if you asked I would 100% say that she taught me love and defined love for me and that she will be my first and last, but I also know that that is not entirely true; it's just the narrative that I like for myself. And I think that being in an Empty deal contingent on whether or not he LETS himself feel happy would lead Cas to do plenty of mental maneuvering, which I think involved intentional self-poor-little-meow-meow-ification via overascribing his choices and happiness to Dean (and I also think he'd already been doing that for a while just because of personal self-worth issues and because it's a nice narrative). I know as Cas's last Moment on the show it was probably written to be The Objective Truth, but I am perceiving him and I say no.

44. If you could write an episode of Supernatural, what would happen?

Oh scream okay! This is a fun one! I am going to start out with two ideas from other people:

1. Months ago Nate from the pocnatural discord had the idea of an episode from the "monster"'s perspective where the Winchesters are just clearly the antagonists while not doing anything different than they usually do. I think the idea was that all these supernatural beings live in a self-regulating community together and we have one Very Likable pov character who's a member of this community, but one of the newer members messes up one day and kills someone and the Winchesters come on a case and wreak havoc on this Very Much Functioning (there was going to be a whole rehab and reparations thing for the new member who messed up!) system and kill pov character and in the end you just HATE Sam and Dean for it.

2. It's hard to adapt anything from bad moon rising (aka my favorite spn fic) very well because the point of an Arab Winchesters season 1 rewrite is that it doesn't really work with the white characters we have now, but I think I could see a version of chapter 2 adapted as long as Haley (an Ojibwe hunter who lives in the area affected by what Sam and Dean are hunting) takes the lead. I'd especially like to see this section:

Dean laughs, a little disbelievingly. The question has never crossed his mind. “Do you like it?”

This gives Haley no pause at all. “Yeah,” she says. “I mean, it’s not really about killing monsters, though, for me. Or, it’s not always about killing monsters. It’s about community. Not violence. It’s a spiritual thing to build a home, you know?”

“Oh,” Dean says. He can’t think of anything else to say. It has never crossed his mind before that hunting could be compatible with a community.

I don't have any original episode ideas to add to the hunting discourse, so we're on to my ideas about character-driven eps. I think I would like to see a version of my sastiel possession fic (ty again for beta-ing that! you're a real one) as an ep around the time of 9.11 because Sam deserves to work through their trauma, but idk what the Dean plot should be for that. Another thing I would like very much is TFW drunk history storytime (so like. Tall Tales bass boosted), where for some reason they all need to go over what they were doing during Stanford era but each of them is telling someone else's story. It's gonna be either Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam or Dean->Sam->Cas->Dean. It starts out very funny (they all have terrible wigs and makeup in the flashbacks. Cas is Jimmy wearing a giant mask with googly eyes on it.) but as it goes on it gets increasingly sad how much these three don't really know each other.

In the Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam episode, Sam's telling of Dean's past veers wildly between "crushing pussy and killing things" and "feels like absolute shit all the time" and it's funny but Not Right and afterwards Dean goes "I didn't know you thought of me that way" and Sam says "... I am basically reading off the voicemails you left me back then" and Dean has to sit there and contend with the mythology he himself wrote for Sam to believe in. Dean->Cas provides the comedic beats for the episode as Dean awkwardly narrates Cas's Life As A Weird Little Guy who watches trees grow and heals babies and in the end Dean goes "so how did I do" and Cas is like "well actually I was either getting lobotomized or murdering people so like 3/10?" The moral of this plot line is that Dean is bi. Cas gives a fairly faithful retelling of Sam living her trans little life at Stanford and veering between trying to be Normal and being a total weirdgirl and feeling guilty and angry and happy and free. It becomes clear that Cas admires Sam a lot (but also feels like. guilt and some self-recrimination for not being that) for rebelling from their dad and exploring their queerness during a time Cas was still to his knowledge in total soldier mode, and Sam is having an a_good_soldier's Thesis 5 moment about how she failed the kid she used to be and how very sorry they are about all the things that happened to them, and Dean hates that this is the first he's hearing about so much of this but is also quite emo about the parts where Sam is struggling. The ep ends with them all in the same room not looking at each other and not knowing if they want to group hug or never talk again.

Dean->Sam->Cas episode is similar but the storytelling dissolves a lot faster as it becomes clearer way faster how much their own emotions are getting in the way. Dean is upset that Sam could leave their family so easily and probably swing a normal life, Sam keeps wondering what it would be like to live millennia just KNOWING that you were right and good and clean, and Cas is gay and veering between fitting Dean's life into a larger Righteous Man narrative and just being very tender (and sad and angry) about Dean's pain. Episode ends in a rather cathartic shouting match where they all end up apologizing to each other for many things.

Oh also I would like to see Cassie again but I don't have an episode in mind there. Also would love to see Kaia adjusting to life in Sioux Falls and befriending the others and dealing with Bad Place trauma.

tysm for the questions sorry for taking so long!

(ask game)

[otdderamin]

Analysis: The hidden pain of Jester and Scanlan – CR C2 Ep76 and CR C1 Ep85

Spoilers for Campaign 1 through episode 85 and Campaign 2 through episode 76

One thing I really love about Critical Role from both campaigns is the way they show that the seemingly happy, jokey, funny, delightful people are really using that as a mask for a lot of pain and insecurity that they're either hiding or repressing and that can't last forever.

Scanlan was hurt and angry that no one asked about his issues seriously or asked what he needed, but he also buried everything and deflected when they did ask about him. He wanted to be seen and understood, but all he gave them was a facade of being fine. Until he broke.

Jester's playing with the same idea in a different way. She learned being seen is bad and her purpose is making other people happy. Her own desires aren't really important. She's afraid she'll disappoint everyone if she admits she's not okay (even to herself), so she buries it.

Both The Mighty Nein and a lot of the audience are kind of infantilizing her, largely ignoring her pain and complexity. Laura does not get enough credit for her roleplaying because I think that's the impression Jester is intentionally cultivating out of deep insecurity.

Misogyny is also a factor. She leans into a lot of ditzy, simple, girly tropes that are largely written off by men and many women as shallow. Laura is really playing with them to show there actually is a lot of depth there. But you have to be willing to deconstruct her to see it.

Jester wants to actively bring joy to people's lives because she's afraid that she won't be wanted if she doesn't. So, she's cultivated this happy, mischievous mask to hide behind and she's trapped herself behind it. She doesn't even want to see herself without it.

Just as much as Fjord trapped himself behind the faux-Vandran mask until he had a breakdown. Or Beau trapped herself behind the no-fucks-given mask she's been working really hard to set aside. Or Caleb trapped himself behind his bandages and bum disguise until his cover was blown.

But Jester's mask is harder to see around. She seems open and carefree and happy. Almost everyone in the Mighty Nein wants to feel that way and they're invested in the aspirational illusion. They really want one of them to be okay because maybe then they could learn, too.

 T: Full scene from Campaign 1 Episode 45

2:30:57 Vax: "How do you do it? You're risking your life as much as anyone in this group. You're almost dying every day. You're fucking smiling all the time. How do you do it?"

Liam: "I'm kind of asking as Liam to Sam, as well. But mostly as Vax to Scanlan."

Vax: "How do you do it? You almost died yesterday, as well. Or two days ago, fuck. Why do you do it?"

Scanlan, as if it's obvious: "Vax, I… I don't know. I mean, I just… I like you people okay. Everything before this was not as good. This is better, that's why. It's very simple. You had a shitty childhood, didn't you?"

Vax: "Yeah."

Scanlan: "You and the sister."

Vax: "Yeah."

Scanlan: "I think Grog had some troubles. We've all had our share of shit, before we all met. Now we're together. We're a family. This is better, that's how I smile. It's better than it was before. That's it."

Vax: "We're probably going to die in the next month."

Scanlan: "Yes, but it's fun while it lasts."

Vax looks at him in disbelief and bewilderment.

Scanlan gives a contented sigh.

Vax, dubiously: "Alright. I thought I might…"

Scanlan: "Glean some wisdom?"

Vax: "Yeah, but I'm just as confused as before."

Scanlan: "Listen, I'm older than you."

Vax: "How much older?"

Scanlan: "A bit. I've seen more than you have, and… it's all shitty, so it just depends on how you look at it. You can dwell on the shit, or you can just leave it behind in people's beds and keep going."

 But of course, Scanlan couldn't do it forever. He couldn't actually just leave all that shit behind him. He couldn't laugh all of it off. He reached the tipping point where he was too scared and hurt and angry to keep going.

Beau's started to see Jester's cracks and say something, most notably in episode 45 (4:55:48) and 46 (1:25:15), but she doesn't seem know how to address it without Jester pushing the concern away and deflecting, and I think she's scared Jester will pull away from her if she presses the matter. Beau might have the best chance, though.

Caleb tried to talk to her In episode 42 (1:08:49), but the conversation derailed almost instantly. She did express her fear she would never see her mother again, and that she was unsure about her feelings towards Fjord or his towards her, but again the conversation turned to other things fairly quickly. Still, it was more than she'd really shared before.

Jester actually showed her vulnerability and insecurity to Fjord in episode 72. but he was too up his own butt focused on his own rapidly spiraling break down to really notice or address it. Hopefully he keeps it in mind and circles back now that he's pulled through it.

 Campaign 2 Episode 72

2:49:51 Fjord: "I just feel like there's more out there. It's always more. Even Port Demali and before that, my world just got bigger and bigger and bigger, and more time goes on the more you realize there is and the more that we affect and the more we can be affected. And there's a part of me that wants to leave it all behind..."

Jester: "And just somewhere quiet and disappear, and hope that it never bothers you again?"

Fjord: "Yeah."

Jester: "yeah, I understand that."

Fjord: "I just don't think it will let me."

 Caduceus might be able to help if he understood, but Jester is baffling to him.

 Talks Machina for Campaign 2 Episode 50

0:51:24 Taliesin: "[Caduceus] hasn't figured out that Jester is an adult yet. He doesn't regard her as an adult. I mean, which is, he kind of, his whole thing with her is very childish and playful and is not really... [...] He hasn't figured out that she's probably got-- I mean, he's aware that there's other stuff going on, but he hasn't really gone looking for it yet, so... He's like, 'Aw, she's happy and fine. Good. Thank god somebody is.' And obviously that's not true. And he should know better, but he hasn't gone looking for it."

Dani: "He has bigger fish to fry at the moment."

Taliesin: "I mean, the angsty boys are very angsty, and they currently have one emo girl to deal with as well."

It appears from the last episode that Caduceus has finally figured out there's more going on with Jester and is trying to make up for what he didn't see before. He let her know he saw through her sadness. Maybe he'll be able to be someone she can come to when she's ready to talk.

Campaign 2 Episode 76

4:44:05 Caduceus: "You okay?"

Jester: "Me?"

Caduceus: "Yeah you."

Jester: "Oh yeah. I'm fine. I'm always fine."

Caduceus: "Well…"

Jester: "That's a lie."

Caduceus: "Nobody's always fine."

Jester: "That's a lie, Caduceus."

Caduceus: "You do a lot."

Jester: "Yeah."

Caduceus: "And I don't think you necessarily get as much credit as you deserve, as often as you should. You deserve… more pastries."

Jester, laughing: "Everybody deserves more pastries."

Caduceus: "Yeah, but you do."

Jester smiles sadly: "Thanks, Caduceus."

Caduceus: "Well, we'll be figuring out your Traveler Con soon enough, I'm sure."

Jester: "Yeah. We're gonna work- that's gonna be really cool, right?"

Caduceus: "You got a good crew for it, so…"

Jester: "Yeah."

Caduceus: "We're here for you."

Jester: "Thank you."

Caduceus: "Thank you. You've done… I don't even know how to tell you what this has meant."

Jester has been ignored in part because she seemed… not fine, but less of an immediate and impending disaster than the others. Now that things are settling down with everyone else, I think they're trying to do right by her and support her better. Time will tell if she lets them in.

No one in Campaign 2 is playing an easy character. No one is playing someone who's well adjusted and fine. No one has their shit figured out. At best they've learned pieces or ways of learning how to be more okay with the tumult. Jester is far come complex than she tries to appear.

Her arc is coming up soon and whatever happens will come with big growth and change for her. The big difference (or similarities) in how the stories of these two characters will play out will come down to how well their friends see behind the mask. Vox Machina didn't until it was too late. The Might Nein might be beginning to, and if they keep at it, that will make all the difference.

----------

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[ohfxxkitsme]

Peter Parker One Shot: Abuse

TW: mentions of abuse/suggestion of abuse

Based on: Must have been the wind – Alec Benjamin (listen to while reading, I think the impact is better)

         Living on his own was stressful, but Peter was an adult now. When he moved out at the start of this year, he knew it was time, regardless of how convincing Aunt May seemed to be. He hadn’t moved that far away, still located in Queens, just living for one now. He enjoyed the freedom, but he did miss coming home from a long day and having a home cooked meal prepared for him. The adjustment period was difficult, and Peter was glad he had friends to help him out, especially since he thought they might drift apart after graduating high school.

         Today was a day he’d hoped to have a friend to lean on, but everyone seemed to be busy for the night. Therefore, Peter settled on turning on a movie that he’d seen a million times (Step Brothers) and eating day old Chinese food.

He went to his kitchen and began heating up his dinner. He leaned against the counter while scrolling through Instagram on his phone. No one piqued his interest on the platform, but no one ever really did anyway, it was just a way to pass time: looking at photos of people he didn’t even bother to keep up with. He liked a few photos before the microwave beeped. He tucked his phone into his pocket and opened the microwave. The box burned his finger as he pulled it out and he hissed in pain.

‘Remember, don’t leave your food in the microwave for too long, Peter. It’s a bad habit I won’t be there to help with. You’re going to burn yourself to death, kiddo’

Peter smiled at the memory of Aunt May in his apartment when she helped him move in. It was a day full of her pointing out possible troubles Peter could get in to and it’s funny that this is the first one he’s run in to.

He went to grab a fork when he heard the faint sound of a girl screaming. He listened and heard the voice of a man yelling back at the girl. He figured it was coming from upstairs since next door was a mom and a daughter and neither of them sounded like a man. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it sounded like they were arguing. Peter hoped everything was okay, but he knew relationships had troubles (especially this one, he’d heard them arguing once or twice before), so he proceeded to mind his own business and went to the living room with his food. He played the movie and munched on his delicious leftovers; eyes tired from the long day.

The first time he stopped the movie, he thought he heard a thump on the wall. The second time, he definitely heard a glass breaking against the wall. He listened in for a few moments before he decided to simply check on the situation upstairs. It was possible he would be yelled at for interfering, but Tony Stark always yelled at Peter and if he can handle that, he’d be fine with this.

He threw on a pair of flip flops that were laying around and walked to the apartment complex elevator after locking his front door. He pressed 2 and waited impatiently for the doors to close, the elevator to move, and the doors to open. When they did, he was face to face with an angry looking guy who shoved passed him and pressed what Peter assumed to be the Lobby button. Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes after the doors closed. He turned his attention back to the door with black numbers ‘24’ on it. He let out a breath before walking up and knocking on the door.

The door opened quickly to reveal a girl with a white hoodie on. “Andy, what could you poss-oh. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Peter got to look at the girl more now in this moment. The sweater was zipped up as far as it could go, hiding up to her chin. She had brown hair that was peaking through her hood and the prettiest brown eyes that were red from what he assumed was crying.

         “Hi, yes, not Andy. I’m Peter, actually. I uh, live downstairs.”

         “Oh.”

         Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, Peter afraid to bring up the topic for fear of being nosey and the girl for fear of saying something she shouldn’t.

         “Well, um, I just wanted to come up. I was hearing some noises downstairs and I wanted to make sure everything was okay up here?”

         She shook her head and looked at the floor, more hair falling to frame her face. The way her hair curled was stunning to Peter and he couldn’t get over how pretty this girl was. That definitely wasn’t the time to be admiring her, but Peter was never the best at doing what was right in specific moments.

         “Yeah, I haven’t heard anything, Peter.” She spoke, his name falling beautifully from her mouth. “I’m sorry. I have to go, but I wish I could help you. Maybe your ears are playing tricks on you,” she suggested.

         Peter smiled. “Probably. I figured I would come check, just in case anyone needed any help.” He looked her in her sad eyes and hoped for something he couldn’t even put into words.

         “That’s sweet of you, caring about people you haven’t met. But yeah, I haven’t heard anything. Must have been the wind.”

         Peter ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “Ok, yeah, you’re probably right.” She seemed so sure, but Peter was sure he heard something. She wasn’t acting like anything was wrong, so Peter was conflicted. He decided he would leave it and take her word, hoping that she would’ve said something if she needed help. Even if she did, why would she tell him? He didn’t even know her name.

         Peter realized this and decided he should ask; in case he saw her again. “I uh, didn’t catch your name,” he announced. She smiled softly.

         “Y/n. And again, thanks for coming up, but I really have to go. Goodbye, Peter.” Peter nodded at her and she closed the door, locking it afterwards. Peter stared at the door, processing the conversation that had just occurred. He was confused but didn’t know what else he could do. He took the elevator down to his floor and went back to his dinner that was cold again. He huffed, picking it up and put it back into the microwave. He’d forgotten how hungry he was and wasn’t letting this food go to waste.

         As he leaned on the counter, he didn’t pull out his phone, he just thought of the girl upstairs. He thought of her beauty, but also of her situation. Peter hated assuming, but there was no other explanation. The person upstairs next door to Y/N moved out (Peter had been friendly to the couple that lived there as he saw them quite frequently in the building) and the sound was way to prominent to be coming from down the hall. It was the middle of summer, so the sweatshirt didn’t make sense unless she had her A/C all the way up, which was quite possible. But if she was cold, why not turn it down?

         Peter thought of this situation while eating and ignoring the movie that was playing. He thought about her sweatshirt, the angry guy he ran into that may have been Andy, which would make a lot of sense, the glass shattering, the thump, the fact that Y/N heard nothing when Peter knew the walls in this building were thin as paper. Peter didn’t want to believe this relationship could be bad in that way, but it was genuinely the only thing that made sense.

         He decided to stop stressing himself out and to just go to bed, seeing as by the time he was done wondering, it was midnight.

         A week had gone by and Peter was back at his Sunday antics again – sitting on his couch, eating leftovers (pizza today, however) and watching a movie that he’d already seen (Ferris Beuller’s Day Off tonight). He was fairly invested in the movie this time around and that’s why it took him a minute to realize that the yelling wasn’t coming from his TV. He paused the movie and sighed, knowing they were at it again. He thought about Wednesday afternoon. Peter was visiting Aunt May and he decided to ask for her advice on the situation.

         *

         “May, I need your advice.”

         She turned her head away from the dinner she was making to look at Peter. “Oh yeah? Girl troubles?” She smiled.

         Peter shook his head. “Kind of? Not really. I don’t know.”

         “Peter, tell me. What’s up?”

         He clasped his hands on the counter and laid his head in between them. He looked up a few seconds later. “There’s this girl,” he started.

         “I knew it! Who is she?”

         Peter shook his head, but Aunt May wasn’t facing him, so she didn’t realize. “No, May. Not like that. She lives above me and she has this boyfriend. I don’t want to assume, but I hear things, you know?”

         May turned of the stove and turned around slowly. “What kind of things?”

         “Yelling, on both ends, you know, couples fight. But I also hear glass breaking and thumping, which could be something completely different than what I think, but I went up there and something just doesn’t seem right.”

         “You went up there? What happened?” She was invested in the story now and Peter was glad to be able to talk to someone about this.

         He nodded. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure I ran into the boyfriend on the way. But Y/N, she said she didn’t hear anything. She told me it was the wind, or I was hearing things. I wanted to believe her, but she was wearing a sweater up to her chin and trying to rush away from the door and it was just weird.”

         May sighed. “Peter, you know how hard it is for people to admit when somethings not right in their relationship. Do you think something physical is going on?”

         “I’m honestly not sure. She looked fine, besides her red eyes, but if they’re throwing things, who knows what might be going on.”

         “Did he look hurt?” she asked. “Like, physically?”

         Peter’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t thought about that being possible. “Like, she did something to him?” May nodded. “No, no, May, I really don’t think she could do something like that.”

         “How do you know?”

         “I just know, May!” He exclaimed, not too loudly, but enough to get May to not suggest it anymore. Peter just knew, he had this sense inside of him that something was wrong it wasn’t because of Y/N’s doing. “Sorry, I just…I saw her. I saw him. I’m just worried. I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

         May rubbed Peter’s back comfortingly and looked down to him. “I’m sure she appreciates that you care, even though you don’t really know her. Even if she has no one else, it’s always easier with someone in your corner. She might not ever want to talk about it, and you have to accept that because it’s her situation. She’ll only share when she’s ready and you just have to help her along if you can. Try to get the full scope of the situation,” May explained. She knew Peter liked to get involved and it would be hard for him to not try to take control of the situation, but there’s a first time for everything.

*

         He was planning on heeding her advice and hoped he could help Y/N as much as she would let him. He continued to hear yelling and decided to once again, check if everything was okay. He felt so intrusive, but he wasn’t going to sit back while a possibly abusive situation occurred right before his eyes. Well, above his head, more so.

         He took the elevator upstairs for the second time this month, more times than he’d ever done since moving in, and stood in front of the girl’s door. He knocked, not hard, but hoping they’d heard him. Unfortunately, the screaming of “Stop it Andy!” from one side and “You’re so stupid!” from another must have drowned out the knocking he was doing. He wondered if it was a sign, but then his fist was overrun by some mystical force and was knocking on the door again before he could stop it.

He heard the yelling stop and his heart started pounding in his chest. The door opened a few seconds later and Peter was looking Y/N in the eyes again. Same hoodie covering her head, same sad brown eyes. Her eyes widened and she closed the door a little more than it had been before.

         “What are you doing here?” she asked harshly.

         Peter was taken aback at her tone and stuttered on his words. “Sorry, I just…I…I heard…”

         “You heard what?” she hissed. He didn’t respond, but when Y/N looked behind her and back to Peter, he got a glimpse of something on her cheek that looked like a bruise or something of the sort. His eyebrows scrunched up. “Peter, you really can’t be here. Like I said last time, must have been the wind. Please leave. Now.”

         The door opened fully after the statement left her mouth and Peter was faced with the guy he had run into last week in the elevator. Andy. “Nooo,” he drew out. “Who’s your friend?” He eyed Peter up and down.

         Peter puffed out his chest slightly, feeling challenged. “No one, Andy. He just lives here and was leaving.”

         “Doesn’t look like he’s leaving,” he spoke, still staring Peter down. “Didn’t I see you come up here last week?”

         Peter looked at Y/N. Her eyes pleaded with him to not make it worse than he already had. His heart broke for her, but he couldn’t do anything in this moment. “She’s right, I was just leaving.” Peter turned away and walked towards the stair exit instead of the potential risk of the elevator not still being on 2 and having to wait for it. He heard the door close and he listened for a few seconds.

         “Who was that? Is that who you’re sleeping with behind my back? Andy yelled.

         “I’m not cheating on you Andy! Please, I love you! I would never do that.” Peter left before he heard anything else. She loved him? How the hell could she love someone who’s beating her? What the hell was wrong with Andy! Putting his hands on her like that. Wonder if anyone would be mad if Spiderman took care of him.

         Peter angrily flopped onto his bed and he reveled in the silence. He wondered if Andy had left and hoped that Y/N was alone and not dealing with that bullshit anymore. He let his head fill with thoughts as he drifted to sleep, worrying about the beautiful girl living in terror above him.

         It was Tuesday and Peter had just gotten home from seeing a movie with Ned. He was glad to hear there was no yelling above him, but he could hear the slight creaking of the floor in the bedroom above him. She was home. He didn’t want to face her after Sunday. It was an awful realization he had come to, even though he seemed to have already known what was going on.

         He flipped through his music collection and turned on his speaker. His heart was heavy once again and even though he couldn’t face her, he wanted her to know he was still there for her. Lean on me began to play out of his speaker, quite loudly. He knew she could hear it as the creaking suddenly stopped. He assumed she was trying to hear the music.

It was hard on him, seeing this girl in this situation and not being able to help her. He could always help people. He was Spiderman for Christ’s sake. He wondered how many other Peter Parker problems his other self wouldn’t be able to help him with. He thought about all the people who had problems that they solely on their own had to deal with. It made him sick. No one deserves all the terrible things that happen in the world and it sucks when those terrible things are purposely caused by other humans who know pain too. How fucked was life.

         Another day, another project complete for the young Avenger. Peter was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get home and immediately sleep. He was walking into his complex right now and was thinking of sleep so hard that he almost missed the ball of a human sat in front of his door.

         He stopped in his tracks, not knowing what was going on. “Um, hello there,” he spoke.

         The head of curls snapped up and he saw the eyes he had come to admire so dearly, still red. “Oh, hi Peter. Sorry, I was just waiting for you.” She stood up, fixing her clothing.

         “How long have you been here?”

         She shrugged and rubbed her hoodie covered arms. “I lost track after a few hours.” It was now 2 am and Peter couldn’t believe she’d been out here since at least 12am.

         He put his bag down and walked closer to her. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

         She wiped her eyes, tears now flowing more than before. “I heard your music last week. It was nice.”

         “It was for you,” he spoke.

         She sniffled. “I figured. I didn’t want to assume, but it seemed like something I could.”

         Peter looked down. “Look, I know I don’t have all the facts. I jut want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what’s going on. I was afraid to see you after Sunday, but I still wanted to let you know that, hence the music.”

         Y/N nodded and smiled softly. “Thank you, Peter. It’s good to have someone who cares. It’s just that everyone has their opinion, and no one gets how hard it is for me even without their unsolicited comments.”

         “Y/N listen to me. I don’t know you that well, obviously. But I’m not lying when I say you’re always welcome to come in. You could stay for an hour, two, however long, if you ever need a friend.  If that’s all you want me to do to help you, I’ll do it. I want to do right by you. We can talk about whatever’s going on when you’re ready, but until you are, you’re right. I’ve been hearing the wind and I’ve accepted it.”

         Peter was embraced in a hug and he hesitantly hugged back. It was warm and he didn’t want to let go of the girl within his hold. He’d never felt this strongly or this protectively over anyone and he couldn’t explain it. Something about this girl latched onto his heart and he couldn’t get it loose.

         “Thank you so much Peter,” she spoke sincerely.

         “Anytime, Y/N.”

[vicecityhq]

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: coding, electricity, wires. With a slight resemblance to SON HYUNWOO of/the MONSTA X.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE

Last Name, First Name: nam seojun ALIAS: abyss Realm of birth: earthly Age: 27 Date of Birth: 15th may 1994 Gender: male Preferred Pronouns: he/him Species: cyborg Occupation: the ivory lotus, medical personnel Sexual Orientation: pansexual

VISUAL FILE

Skin Color: melanin Eye color: brown Scars: none Piercings: first lobes Tattoos: lotus symbol on inner left elbow Hair color: dark brown Abnormalities: can be stiff when walking and moving at times Horns/ wings/ etc: none Transformed form: n/a

PERSONAL FILE

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  / lust  /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility /  kindness /  patience /  justice KNOWN LANGUAGES: korean, english, moderate japanese and chinese SECRETS: has his own personal and private clinic where he does procedures, has dabbled in cyborg upgrades to an extent/made adjustments and corrections SAVVIES: technology, navigating softwares, mechanical engineering, surgeries, gaming Powers & Abilities: technorganic physiology Traits: + calming, - resentful

BACKGROUND CHECK

Date of Birth: 15th may 1994 Date of Death: n/a Crime Record: no relationship

Background/Biography:

tw // death

nam seojun is human.

nam seojun is a human at heart, always and will be, no matter what.

there’s not too much information on seojun’s life prior to being adopted, the only information known was that he was given up the moment he was born and placed into the foster system then. that’s where he grew up for the first two years of his life, and a month after his second birthday, he was finally legally adopted by his now parents. they loved and cherished him, treated him like their blood son, never treating him any differently and their love for him truly showed. growing up in melbourne, australia for a year after he was adopted, they all relocated to seoul, south korea to be closer to home and the very culture they knew of best. due to not being able to conceive their own children, seojun was incredibly important and special to them, sometimes even being a bit too protective at times, but little seojun always told them when they were being a bit too much. they had always told him, to be honest with them, and all three of them respected each other, and his parents respected him enough to give him the space he’d want when things were a bit too much. adjusting wasn’t always easy, and he immensely struggled at first but eventually, adjusting became easier and easier until the tears and endless nights of crying became lesser and lesser. the bond between them grew, while the bond with his foster mother diminished.

seoul was a good start, and seojun loved it there. weekly trips out every weekend to get lunch, to spend family time together. whether it was getting food, going to lotte world, shopping for toys - seojun was always happy because he was with his parents. he could see the love they held for him in their eyes, that love portrayed through everything. actions, words, affection, he never doubted their love for him.

seojun had always been a good kid, raised with good morals and never any sour intentions. he was taught to always be nice, to always respect and be respectful because being a good person was better than being a bad person. in school, he always tried his hardest, studied well and listened well. he was a good student, and with being young came the urge to mess around, to be free and play around with his friends. he was a fairly active child, so it wasn’t anything new if he would run a little bit in front of them on a day out. but one day that would be the one very thing that would destroy him, and the rest of his life. the mistake of not waiting that one day his mother called his name, stopping dead in the road and turning around with that happy, excited smile on his face. that happy, excited smile would moments later be swept off his face the moment a car strikes his delicate little body. feeling those little bones snap, crack, the initial shock of the collision cancels out the pain. body on the cold concrete floor, tears escaping his eyes and mixing with blood, his mother and father screaming his name and running towards him. unable to feel his mother hold him in her warm arms, but her tears falling from her eyes is the one thing he can register. “don’t cry, eomma.” he would say, before seojun’s eyes would close for the last time in months.

he was in a coma for six months before the decision to move him home was decided, where he could be in the comfort of his own home with the belief seojun wouldn’t improve. another six months later is when his parents start to discuss, when they make the decision to ultimately cybernetically upgrade his body. the accident had done too much damage for seojun to ever live a normal life again, and his parents couldn’t bear the thought of him being unable to walk, be independent ever again. not their child, their only son. so after discussing and making their decision, his father finally chose to reach out to a family friend and the consultation began. a couple weeks later, the upgrades began. the process was long and delicate one, a toddler’s body was difficult to upgrade but somehow, they managed it. and a few weeks after the upgrades, nam seojun finally awoke.

adjusting was difficult. it was shocking. he didn’t know what to do at first, how to act. he felt everything and nothing at the same time, and it left him in a state of uncertainty. it was weird, being unable to feel pain, learning how to walk again with the new legs and how to use the new arms, the new fingers. it was strenuous, a new burden. the emotional instability made it ten times harder, the arguments with his parents became more frequent, the anger and hurt and uncertainty was just all too much. he didn’t want this, he just wanted to be normal.

why couldn’t he be normal?

as the years go by, and he ‘grows’ up, they upgrade him bit by bit. nam seojun had accepted his fate at that point, having come to terms with the fact that there was no way he could go back to his life before. at some point, he starts to feel more metal than skin, unable to erase the last few years because despite being more metal than skin, his brain still functions like a human. from a toddler form, to a teenager and finally, to an adult.

upgraded into his adult form, over the years of upgrading bit by bit and whenever needed, whenever slight mistakes happened or errors would occur, the relationship between him and his parents had improved, retracing the old steps they had missed, fixing and rekindling. it was never planned for them to pass away anytime soon. it happened all too quick, a hit and run that seemed far too calculated for any ordinary hit and run. and that left seojun all alone, strict instructions with his maker for regular testing and upgrading when needed. despite being more metal, it didn’t make the pain any less and for the first time since he had changed, that was the first time he wished he couldn’t feel emotional pain.

after the loss of his parents, it left seojun on a hunt for something. on a hunt for a connection, to find a family, to make his own. joining a gang had never been in his books, but circumstances can change. in search for the truth behind his parents’ sudden passing, seojun joins the ivory lotus through a close friend in hopes to finally have some power over finding out the truth. with his much more contained persona, he keeps his level of cyborg enhancements and upgrades to a lower scale to not draw attention to himself and evidently, live as normal of a life as he can.

though, that’s exactly easy per se, when he’s more metal than skin and he’s involved in a gang.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

it’s funny, because seojun knows exactly what happened, but he’s careful about how he recalls it, how he says it. “it’s just like everyone else has said.” he starts, raising his head, looking straight at the officer, immediately knowing the camera is there and he’s being recorded. his system had located it before he had even walked into the room. “the patient was too far gone. we did all we could to save him, but the injury was too severe. there was nothing we could do.” seojun recites, hands clasped together in front of him, back straight while. 37 seconds it’s been recording for.

“in situations like that, when the injury is too severe, there’s very little we can do. we might be trained surgeons, but we can’t always save everyone.” it was true, they can’t save anyone, though in this case it was a bit more than that, the plan wasn’t to ensure he came out of it alive. but nobody needed to know that.

3.. 2.. 1..

“sir.. the camera is no longer working.” seojun wants to chuckle at that, but instead he continues to sit there as normal. “can i go now? i have to prepare for another surgery soon.”

[ookamikasumi-fanfics]

Diabolic 14

Summary: Vincent Valentine is kidnapped by the ghost of Sephiroth for a very personal mission. 

(S/VV- After AC) COMPLETE

All characters property of Square Enix. This story was written for the intent of Personal enjoyment. No money was made from this work.

Warning! Rated NC-17: hard-core Yaoi content, adult language, mild violence, non-con seduction

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fourteen ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vincent strained his wings, but Rufus ShinRa was surprisingly difficult to carry in flight. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising. Although Rufus was the same height as Vincent, Rufus was far more muscular in build compared to Vincent’s slender frame. Vincent was stronger by far, but his wings just weren’t large enough to carry two, especially when one of them was struggling like a madman.

Rufus was dragging them down at a rate Rufus wouldn’t survive.

Vincent called on his beast. In mid-dive the black lightning burst from his skin expanding his body and coating him in scaled armor. Horns curled from his heavy brow, and his long snaking tail whipped behind him. Right under Rufus’s belly, he transformed.

To his credit, Rufus didn’t scream. He did swear a whole lot though, and loudly. Vincent was actually impressed. The only fear the man showed was in his death-grip on the ridges down Vincent’s back, while he was pounding on the plates with his other fist.

Vincent pumped his wings, turning sharply, and sailed upward. He needed someplace sufficiently difficult for Rufus’s five Turks to reach. He didn’t want them interrupting.

The highest point closest to him was the very top ledge of the reactor. That wasn’t going to do. Gaia only knew what kind of fumes came out of that stack.

The next building over was a warehouse. It wasn’t nearly as tall, but the roof was fairly flat and looked strong enough to actually hold the beast’s weight. There was a battered outbuilding housing the roof access close to the roof’s center. That would do to block most of the wind.

Vincent landed on the warehouse roof in a crouch without too much of a crunching impact. The roof groaned, but didn’t buckle. Satisfied, Vincent let Rufus slide from his shoulder.

Rufus landed on his feet. His legs clearly shook under him, but he remained standing.

Vincent reached out and carefully hooked his saber-long claws through the back of the man’s coat collar, tearing only minor holes in the fabric.

Rufus choked and grabbed for the neck of his coat.

Vincent released his beast. The black lightning erupted and dissolved the monstrous body, leaving Vincent in his customary mantle and cape, gripping Rufus by the collar with his armored hand.

Rufus turned to face Vincent, and narrowed his ice-blue gaze. “Valentine…”  

Vincent’s brows rose. Oh, so I’m Valentine again, rather than Vincent? Apparently, he’d gained a little respect. He couldn’t help but smile.

“This isn’t funny, Valentine!” Rufus bared his teeth, near blind with fury. “What in Hell’s name do you think you’re doing?”

Vincent’s long black hair lifted in the chilly night wind. He stared at the rumpled and violently angry Rufus. What was he doing?

He was saving someone he should have protected a long time ago. Someone he’d never had the chance to protect. Someone that had never been rescued from the madness that took them. Someone who should have been a hero, but had been branded a villain. Someone that deserved a chance at redemption.

He was giving Sephiroth a second chance.

Vincent started walking along the warehouse roof, dragging Rufus behind him.

“Valentine, damn you, answer me!” Rufus grabbed for Vincent’s wrists and dug in his heels. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Vincent kept pulling, dragging Rufus behind him. Rufus was by no means a weak man, but Vincent wasn’t even close to human. “I’m sorry Rufus, but you’ve given me no choice.”

“Who? Me? What the fuck did I do?” Rufus banged on Vincent’s armored arm with his fist. “Talk to me, damn you!”

Vincent kept walking, pulling Rufus after him.

There was a harsh metallic click. Rufus’s voice was a deep harsh growl. “Talk to me, right now, or I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”

Vincent stopped and looked back at Rufus.

Rufus held the ugliest large caliber, automatic pistol Vincent had ever seen pointed at Vincent’s head.

Vincent lifted his chin so he could smile over the collar of his mantle. “Shoot if you like, but it won’t kill me. However, it will piss me off.”

Rufus kept the gun pointed. “Just tell me what is going on, and who is behind it. That’s all I want.”

Vincent took a breath and tilted his head. “All right. You’ve turned Sephiroth into a ball of materia. I’m going to release him from it.”

Rufus’s mouth fell open and he squinted. “You’re going to release Sephiroth? You?” He threw out both his arms and bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Are you insane?”

Vincent smiled tightly. “Yes me, and truthfully, I’m not sure if I was ever sane to begin with.”

Rufus snorted. “I will not argue on your sanity, or lack thereof. However…” He cleared his throat. “Would you kindly release me? It’s not as if I have anywhere to run, and it’s very uncomfortable.”

Vincent sighed and let Rufus go.

Rufus lowered his pistol to tug at the lapels of his coat. “Thank you.” He jerked at his sleeves. “Now then…” He held up his hands in a placating motion, though it looked rather odd with the pistol in his right hand. “Vincent, no one can release anything from materia except by invocation.”

Vincent crossed his arms and hid his smile behind the collar of his mantle. He was Vincent again instead of Valentine. Rufus apparently though he had some sort of advantage. “Oh, really?”

Rufus nodded. “Yes, really. But what interests me the most is…” He scrubbed his free hand through his hair. “Why the hell would you want to release the man that tried to murder the world?” He flung out his arms in clear exasperation. “I thought you hated him?” He crossed his arms and huffed. “Even more than you hated me.”

Vincent shook his head. “It’s difficult to explain…”

Rufus spoke through his clenched teeth. “Try.”

Vincent lifted his brows. “All right. There are two Sephiroths, and you caught the wrong one.”

Rufus stared at Vincent, his ice-blue eyes wide. “Two… There are two Sephiroths?”

Vincent held his gaze. “Yes. Sephiroth died in the Nibelheim reactor. What tried to murder the world was his regenerated corpse operating under the complete control of Jenova. What you caught was the ghost of the original man, not the creature that tried to murder the world.”

Rufus frowned deeply, then rocked back on his heels. “Then what in hell’s name manifested in the body of that clone last summer?” He curled his lip. “It certainly looked like Sephiroth to me.”

Vincent lifted his chin above his high collar to show his smile. “Those three weren’t clones.”

Rufus waved his hand. “My reports say that the DNA matches, so technically they were clones. What they don’t say is how the hell they happened outside of a cloning tank.”

Vincent leaned back on his heels. “They were revenants generated from pieces of Sephiroth’s Jenova-infested corpse.”

Rufus’s brows lifted very slowly. “They were…what?”

Vincent smiled tightly. “It seems that the individual pieces of Sephiroth’s original corpse generate into whole bodies. All of which are infested by Jenova, the being that tried to murder the world -- using said corpse.”

Rufus winced. “Wonderful.” He sighed, then lifted a brow at Vincent. “So in effect, instead of one big Sephiroth, we have lots of little Sephiroths skipping about?”

Vincent shook his head. “None of them are Sephiroth. They’re all little Jenovas chasing after Reunion with each other and the world’s end.”

Rufus scowled. “I know what I saw, and what I saw was definitely Sephiroth.”

Vincent sighed. “What manifested from that revenant was Jenova, wearing the form Jenova was most used to wearing – Sephiroth.”

“I see.” Rufus swept a hand down his face and rolled his eyes. “Well, that explains just about everything, not to mention completely ruins my day.” He scowled. “It appears I’ll have to adjust this year’s budget for a clean-up crew.”

Vincent lifted his brows. “Satisfied?”

Rufus nodded. “Thank you.” He frowned at Vincent. “Now, would you mind telling me what we are doing out here?”

“Certainly.” Vincent reached out faster than the human eye could see, and plucked the pistol from Rufus’s hand.

Eyes wide, Rufus stared at his gun hanging loosely in Vincent’s human hand.

Vincent swung his arm and flung the gun clear off the roof, without bothering to look where it went. “We’re here because I need you to release Sephiroth.”

“I can’t!” Rufus threw out his hands and shouted. “No one can!”

Vincent smiled. “I can.” He reached out and grabbed Rufus by the back of the collar. “I just need your body.” He turned away and resumed dragging Rufus toward the roof access.

Rufus choked and grabbed for Vincent’s armored wrist. “I’m perfectly capable of walking, if you don’t mind?”

Vincent ignored him and kept walking

Rufus exploded into a long and rather impressively creative stream of invectives.

Vincent hauled Rufus around to the back side of the outbuilding that housed the roof access and slammed him back against the narrow wall. The metal gave a hollow bang.

Rufus gasped. His steady stream of obscenities halted, but he remained on his feet.

Vincent reached out and tugged Rufus’s tie free from around his throat.

Rufus snatched the tie back. “That is my best tie, thank you very much.” He shoved it into his coat pocket.

With blinding speed, Vincent undid the suit jacket’s buttons then unfastened the leather vest buckles.

Rufus scowled at Vincent. “May I ask, what you think you’re doing?”

Vincent undid the top buttons to Rufus’s shirt and jerked the collar wide. “I need to get to your throat.” He grabbed Rufus by the shoulder and turned him to face the wall.

Rufus threw his hands out to keep from hitting the wall with his face. “You are not fucking me!”

Vincent snorted. “No Rufus, I am not.” With his right and human hand, he grabbed a handful of Rufus’s dark blond hair and pulled Rufus’s head to the side, bearing the left side of his throat. “I’m going to drain about half of your soul.”

“You’re what…?” Rufus grabbed for Vincent’s wrist. “You can’t…!”

“I can.” Vincent grabbed Rufus’s left arm and shoved it down, then wrapped his armored arm around Rufus’s chest, trapping Rufus’s left arm against his side. “In fact I drain souls fairly often. It’s what I feed on.”

Rufus struggled in Vincent’s hold. “Vincent! You can’t do this! You’re a…You’re a damned goody-goody! You don’t do things like this! Think about what you’re doing…!”

Vincent set his lips next to Rufus’s ear and whispered. “I have thought about this, believe me I have. In fact, I’ve always thought before I acted. I’ve done the right thing, the good thing, all my fucking life! Any you know what? Doing the right thing lost me everything and everyone I ever cared about! Let’s see what happens when I do the wrong thing for once.” He opened his mouth on Rufus’s throat and licked, searching for the pulse of the carotid.

Rufus trembled and his voice became breathless. “What in fuck’s name are you doing now?”

Vincent found the pulse and licked his lips. “I will advise you not to struggle. My teeth are long and very sharp. It would be a shame if you moved and I accidentally ripped your throat wide open.”

Rufus froze. The acrid scent of fear sweat erupted from Rufus’s body, but his voice was perfectly steady. “Are you planning to kill me?”

“No.” Vincent bit down, his long teeth burrowing deep.

Rufus gasped and tensed. “Ow! Fuck! Son of a fucking bitch!”

Vincent pulled his teeth free, set his lips to the tears, and sucked in a mouthful. Rufus’s blood held the bitter tinge of Jenova-taint, but the alien strain was voiceless, dormant, inert. Vincent briefly recalled the healing rain from a few months ago. The odd rain had been the cure for the skin-blackening disease that had plagued those tainted by the Jenova strain. Apparently Rufus had spent some time under that healing fall. Good. He wouldn’t have to worry about going insane again.

He swallowed, and tasted the essence of the soul that inhabited the body. Not bad. Not particularly strong in magic, but very vital just the same. He took a deeper draught, and then another, and another…

Rufus closed his eyes and groaned. “Hurts… You shit.”

Vincent kept drinking swallow after swallow…

Rufus’s body eased of tension. His breathing slowed, as did his heart. He released a soft groan and went completely limp in Vincent’s arms.

Vincent lifted his head and licked his lips. He released Rufus’s hair and wiped his scarlet smeared lips with the back of his right hand. Supporting Rufus’s body, Vincent eased down to his knees then sat with Rufus sprawled across his lap.

Rufus’s eyes fluttered open. “What…? He blinked up at Vincent, his eyes barely focusing. “What kind of a monster are you?” His voice was soft and breathless.

Vincent smiled. “Ask Hojo. He made me this way.”

Rufus panted softly. “Now what?”

“Now…” Vincent unfastened the buckles attaching his gold titanium gauntlet from his forearm vambrace. “I’m going to show you a secret, Rufus.” He pulled the gauntlet free and set the clawed glove down at his side. “A secret that your company paid for.” A hard tug slid his leather glove out from under his armor revealing his black hand. It crackled with chaos lightning. He spread his clawed fingers before Rufus’s eyes. “Do you know what this is?”

Rufus frowned. “That...wasn’t in your file.”

Vincent used both hands to grip Rufus’s half-buttoned dress shirt. “My hand is made of pure chaos.” He jerked. Buttons scattered and fabric tore, bearing Rufus’s chest. “Chaos un-makes things.”

Rufus groaned. “Hey, that shirt did not come cheap!” His voice was breathless, but he grabbed on to Vincent’s mantle with a surprisingly strong grip. “Wait a minute…” He looked up at Vincent. “Chaos does…what?”

Vincent leaned over and reached into Rufus’s coat pocket. “It un-makes things. It devolves them down to the elemental level.” He pulled out the crystal that held Sephiroth imprisoned and held it up before Rufus’s eyes. “Things such as this materia crystal.” Within his black claws, a shimmering mist erupted from the crystal, and it began to shrink. “My hand is only a small extension of the Chaos that inhabits me. It’s designed specifically to collect the soul from a living body.” He stared at the disintegrating crystal and smiled mildly. “Though, it's also good for dispelling magic and breaking down small objects.”

Rufus frowned. “I don’t understand. Chaos…? Souls…? What are you planning?”

“I am planning to do a very bad thing, Rufus.” The crystal in Vincent’s hand dissolved completely into mist leaving a bright green-silver ball of flame floating within Vincent’s black claws. “I’m delivering a fresh body to Sephiroth.”

“You’re…what?" Rufus’s eyes widened. "You can't mean me?”

Vincent lowered his hand until the glowing green-silver flame flicker right over Rufus’s heart. “Yes, you.” He looked onto Rufus’s wide ice-blue gaze. “Good by, Rufus ShinRa.” He pressed the flickering soul against Rufus’s chest. It disappeared.

Rufus gasped and arched, his eyes opening wide. He dropped, slumping boneless across Vincent’s lap. His eyes closed.

Vincent’s heart twisted and his eyes burned. Hot wetness spilled down his cheek that he refused to think about.

“Vincent.” The voice was achingly familiar, and it came from the body sprawled across his lap.

Vincent opened his eyes.

Rufus was frowning in a fashion that did not belong on his face. There was a definite green gleam in the heart of his ice-blue eyes. He lifted his hand and pressed a palm to Vincent’s cheek. “You’re weeping?”

Vincent took a deep breath, afraid to hope. “Sephiroth?”

“Yes.” He pushed to sit up in Vincent’s lap. “And no.”

Vincent hastily scrubbed his gloved human hand across his damp cheeks. “Yes and no?”

Sephiroth lifted Rufus’s hands and examined them. “Correct. Rufus is still in here.” He groaned. “I feel like total crap.”

“I can fix that.” Vincent brought his hands together over Rufus’s bare chest. “Hold still.”

Rufus stared up at Vincent with Sephiroth gleaming in his eyes. “Hmm?”

Vincent invoked his more commonly known magic. “Cure three.” Warm golden light exploded in a bright ball around them. The light dissolved into Rufus’s body.

Rufus sighed, but it was Sephiroth who spoke. “Oh, that’s much better.” He turned and smiled at Vincent. It was a brutal smile that did not belong on that face at all, but it was painfully familiar all the same. “We had a long talk, Rufus and I.”

Vincent’s brows lifted. A long talk? He was only out for a few moments. He started working his leather glove back over his black hand. “Did you?”  

Rufus’s head nodded. “It seems that Rufus ShinRa would like to live.” Rufus’s head tilted up and Sephiroth looked up at Vincent. “He made me a counter-offer.”

Vincent’s picked up his armored gauntlet and frowned. “What kind of counter-offer?” He slid the gauntlet on and bucked it to the underside of his forearm vambrace. “

Sephiroth smiled broadly with Rufus’s face. “A clone.”

Vincent stared. “A clone?”

The man sprawled across Vincent’s lap nodded. “By using a clone, I won’t need to displace anyone and it’ll be a perfect match.” Sephiroth curled Rufus’s lip. “I’d rather not use this body. It’s is in terrible condition.” Sephiroth held up Rufus’s hand. “Help me up.”

Vincent rose to his feet, pulling Rufus up with him. “Can you trust him?”

“Of course.” Sephiroth closed Rufus’s shirt frowning at the rips, then tugged the vest and suit-jacket back into place. “If he does not live up to his end of the bargain, he knows I can always have you put me right back in here.” He looked over at Vincent. “And he already knows you won’t hesitate.”

Vincent snorted. “Good point.”

Rufus lifted his chin, and his expression changed to a scowl more natural to his face. “Sephiroth, if I am to…fulfill your requirements, I can’t do it from…the back seat.” He snorted. “Unless of course you’d like to take over all my paperwork?”

Vincent lifted his brows. Rufus was indeed still in his own body.

Rufus’s expression shifted. He rolled his eyes. “Oh, very well.” It was clearly Sephiroth’s voice. “By all means, keep your paperwork. I’m a general, not a bureaucrat.”

Rufus abruptly straightened and shook out his arms. “This is going to be a complete pain in my ass.” He tilted his head from side to side, with slight popping sounds. “Ah, that’s better.” He tugged at his coat, then scowled at his lost shirt buttons. He shot a glare at Vincent. “You owe me for a very expensive dress shirt, in addition to a very costly bullet-proof plate glass window.”

Vincent folded his arms and smiled tightly. “What a pity, I don’t have any money.”

Rufus suddenly smiled, and it was pure Rufus. “Then you can work off your debt.”

“Work?” Vincent’s brows shot up. “Doing what?”

Rufus crossed his arms. “According to your records, you were a Turk. You can simply resume your duties.”

Vincent froze where he stood. “I…What?”

“He’d make an excellent field operative.” The voice was thoroughly Sephiroth.

Vincent took a step back. What the hell was this? “Are you out of your mind?”

“Actually no, I’m not out of my mind.” Rufus scowled. “In fact, I have company in here.”

Vincent had no idea which one had said it, and that thoroughly bothered him. He hunched his shoulders and bared his teeth. “I am not going to work for ShinRa!”

Rufus raised his chin and lifted a brow. “Oh, so you’re willing to abandon Sephiroth to me then?”

Vincent leveled a cold glare at Rufus. “Give me one good reason why I should work for the company that did this to me?” He raised his armored hand.

Rufus snorted. “How does this reason suit you? The only people allowed in my presence are Turks. If you want to keep an eye on Seph, you do it as a Turk or you don’t do it at all.”

Vincent suddenly felt the world tilt under his feet. What the fuck was he supposed to? There was no way in hell he wanted to go back to being a ShinRa Turk, but he couldn’t leave Sephiroth alone with Rufus ShinRa either. Crap, crap, crap! He bared his teeth. “You manipulative bastard…”

Rufus nodded with a smile on his lips. “Yes, I know, but then that’s why I have the largest office.”

Once again Vincent couldn’t tell which one was talking. He shivered. The two of them were far too similar in personality for his comfort.

Rufus tilted his head and spoke with his own voice. “First thing I plan to do is get you to a decent tailor.” He shook his head. “That ragamuffin outfit is thoroughly unprofessional.”

A tailor? Vincent froze where he stood, the ramifications of working under Rufus ShinRa suddenly unfolding before him in horrifying detail. Working under Rufus would expose him. Not just the full extent of his abilities, but all of him, his body, his strengths, his weaknesses, his secrets… He’d be completely and utterly vulnerable. Vincent shook his head and took a step back.  “Sephiroth, I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”

Rufus’s gaze hardened and his smile evaporated. Sephiroth's voice was soft but icy. "You’re not leaving me.”

What…? Vincent balled his hands into fists. “I can’t work for ShinRa.”

Cold hard determination blazed from Rufus's gaze. “It’s not for him, it’s for me.”

Vincent held his gaze but a fine trembling started in his body. “Sephiroth, I can’t.”

Rufus’s voice vibrated with a growl that was all Sephiroth. “Don’t make me give Rufus your name.”

Vincent jerked back as though he’d been slapped. He stared in shock, then curled his lip showing his long fangs. “You wouldn’t dare…!”

Rufus’s entire body shifted until there was no mistake that Sephiroth was in full control of it. “You’re not leaving me Vincent.”

Rufus’s body shifted again, and so did his voice. “He doesn’t want you to go Valentine.” Rufus’s words were mild, almost gentle. “And I’m afraid he’s fairly desperate.”

Vincent glared, his entire body shaking with anger.

Rufus just stared back wearing a slight smile, his arms crossed with Sephiroth burning in his eyes.

The door to the roof stairs burst open. Three seriously pissed off Turks came flooding out of the stairwell all carrying high powered machine guns blazing with materia. They fanned out and took up positions to either side of Rufus, their weapons all pointed at Vincent.

In a wash of incredible noise and wind, a helicopter emblazoned with the ShinRa company logo rose alongside the building. The broadside door was open and a small blond woman armed with rather huge machine gun clearly powered with multiple materia.  

Rufus lifted his hand.

The three Turks froze staring.

The helicopter hovered right where it was.

Rufus lifted his chin. “Do we have an agreement, Valentine?”

Vincent leveled the coldest glare he had on Rufus, but he meant it for the both of them. “Fine.”

With his white coat blowing in the wind from the helicopter, Rufus folded his hands behind his back and lifted his chin. “Tseng.”

The tallest Turk straightened from his crouch, lifting his weapon to the shoulder position. He walked up to Rufus’s left side. “Sir?”

Rufus turned to smile at him. “Say hello to your newest recruit.”

Tseng looked sharply at Vincent. His brows lifted well above his dark glasses.  

Vincent continued to glare at Rufus, but it was meant for Sephiroth. As soon as he had a body, Vincent planned to beat the living crap out of it.

~ * ~

[lnicol1990]

BatIM - New World, New Rules

4th story written for @squigglydigglydoo. An epilogue one this time.

Also, sorry if this is kinda spamming you Squiggly. I know you’ve read these before, but I want to make sure people go to your page to look at your AU proper. (As if anyone would come to my page and not be from yours. ^_^)

It was a Saturday afternoon when Bendy stormed into Henry’s house, not giving the old man as much as a hello before disappearing upstairs, a tirade of comical squeaks and honks covering up the toon’s foul language.

Well, he was a child friendly cartoon and people simply didn’t swear back in the 30s.

Henry remained seated in his favourite armchair as the little devil raced upstairs and then went silent. He took a moment to fold his newspaper and take a quick look out of the nearby window, only to see an empty street. Sighing quietly to himself, he got up from his chair, leaving the paper on it, and slowly made his way to follow the irate toon.

As he slowly climbed the stairs, he thought about the last five months.

Shit, it had been five months since he’d rescued himself and the toons from his old workplace, Joey Drew Studios. Not wanting to abandon them again, he’d appointed himself the custodian of the three living, breathing cartoon characters, which had brought up some rather unique challenges with his neighbours.

While the local children had taken great delight in living beside real life cartoons, their parents and other adults… had been a lot more negative. Thankfully, most of the complaints and concerns had died down after a couple of weeks, but the local churchgoers and their priest would pay him a visit every other Sunday, either looking to rescue the ‘sweet angel, lost in squalor’, or to banish the ‘unholy wretch’ back to hell where he belonged. As funny as it had been for the first couple of months, Henry now took to answering his door with a loaded Winchester.

He’d received a lot less cold callers, too, thinking about.

As Henry reached the landing, he looked about for where the toon had gone. He was unsurprised to see the airing cupboard door slightly ajar; it was where Bendy always went when he’d wanted to be away from the outside world and it’s harsh, unfair rules.

He stopped at the door and listened. Hearing nothing, he decided to test the waters and quietly knocked on the cupboard door.

“You comfortable in there?” he asked, keeping his voice light as he waited for Bendy’s answer.

“Go away, old man.”

It was a short, curt answer, but still with the affectionate insult. Henry breathed a sigh of relief as he realised this was merely a temper tantrum and not an existential crisis, the latter was never any fun, for anyone involved. Knowing that the matter wasn’t exceptionally serious, he relaxed and settled himself by the doorframe. He kept himself in clear sight of the door’s gap so Bendy would know that he hadn’t left, not that he ever did, and waited.

It was always a waiting game whenever the little devil was in a mood, and one Henry had gotten very good at playing. Arguably, Alice and Boris were better at playing it than him, but they didn’t have old joints that would protest after half an hour of uncomfortable sitting. And with them entertaining the local children at a nearby park, he was currently the only player in the house, otherwise they would have drawn straws.

As time went on, Henry decided to speed the little game along, by doing what would have been considered suicidal in the old workshop.

“Are you just gonna sit in there and mope all afternoon, ya little punk?” Henry needled, adding his own affectionate insult to take the edge off of his words.

Sure enough, the door slowly opened and Bendy peeked out. His eyes were narrowed but the pout on the toon’s face took all ferocity out of the expression. He glared ineffectually at the animator for a few seconds before realising that the old man wasn’t taking back his words.

“I ain’t moping,” Bendy stated in a flat, but petulant tone. When Henry gave him a levelled, unimpressed look, the toon relented and leaned back into the cupboard, curling up and wrapping his arms around his legs. He rested his chin on his knees, huffed, and spoke with a quieter voice. “I’m not…much.”

“You want to tell me what happened?” the animator asked gently, softening his expression as the games and bravado fell away from the little devil. He didn’t move any closer, though, knowing that the demon appreciated his personal space.

“It don’t matter, really,” the toon admitted, shaking his slightly. He sighed forlornly and drummed his fingers against his leg. “It just… made me think of other things.”

“Like what?”

“Like… how much I miss being a toon –a real toon– and doing wacky toon stuff,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn’t as big a deal as it clearly was.

While Henry, for his limited use of toon physics in the studio, didn’t miss such antics at all, he could understand his friend’s dilemma. Alice and Boris, while downhearted at the loss, had adjusted fairly well to losing the majority of their abilities; but, most of their gags on the show rarely contained such shenanigans anyway.

Bendy, however… most of his comedy lived on the abuse of toon logic. And, while the demon always assured Henry that the outside world, with its colours, sounds, new technology and, most importantly, people, was worth the loss of his toon abilities… that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them.

“Some older kids were teasing little Delilah about her pigtails. You know her, right Henry? She’s the kid a couple of streets away with the little brother who’s always got that… thing in his mouth,” Bendy looked to Henry, who nodded in response. “Well, in my show I’d hit them big kids with cymbals or maybe pop their bike tyres so they’d go whipping out of shot, and then give lil’ Deli and Chris a couple of lollipops out of Hammerspace. But… I can’t do that now.”

“Is Delilah alright?” Henry asked, feeling certain it was a redundant question. He knew Bendy wouldn’t leave the little girl alone if she was upset, but he might not have wanted her to see him if he was as well.

“She’s fine,” the toon assured, a ghost of a smile on his face. “A quick hug and telling her they were just jealous made her smile. She took Chris home for dinner.”

“That’s good. That was a good way of making her feel better,” the animator smiled at the little devil, who gave him a genuine smile back, blushing slightly from the praise. Henry cocked his head slightly and watched Bendy for a moment, his smile turning slightly in sympathy. “So, you’re just missing Hammerspace again.”

“What’s not to miss?” Bendy asked incredulously. His eyes brightened as they always did when talking about toon logic. “I mean, seriously old man, don’t you miss it? I know you only had it for a little while but… wasn’t it just so… so… great? That thing had everything in it! Giant mallets, lollipops, even lunch!”

The last item on little devil’s list was unexpected, and his change of tone to comically melodramatic elicited a surprised snort of amusement from Henry, which he quickly suppressed so as not offend the toon. However, the way Bendy’s head snapped to his told him he’d been too late for the demon not to notice. He watched the toon’s eyes widen in delight and a gleeful, eager smile plastered itself on his face.

Oh dear…

“Do you have any idea how many tasty lunches are now stuck in Hammerspace because I can’t reach them?” Bendy asked, his voice pitching slightly higher and his words just a little faster than before.  His eyes seemed to shine for a moment when the animator shuddered as he tried, in vain, not to laugh at the toon, which only seemed to egg the devil on. “And who knows what’s in those lunches! They might have sandwiches in ‘em! Sandwiches! Who knew something like that could have so much stuff in ‘em. They could be anything, like that ‘BLT’ we had at that place downtown. Boy, those were good! Or, maybe one with cheese and pickle.”

Henry, at this point, could feel himself trembling as he tried to suppress his giggles. If he was being honest, lunch and sandwiches weren’t all that funny, but the absurdity, the sheer ridiculousness, of Bendy’s sudden topic change had made him laugh, and now the little devil was milking it for all it was worth.

He turned to the demon, his eyes misted with unshed tears of laughter, who had suddenly fallen silent. The toon’s brain seemed to have caught up with what he was saying, and he was looking away into nothing, his smile faltering.

“Actually, forget that last one,” Bendy stated, his voice deadpan. “I mean cheese is okay, but pickles?”

The toon gave a full body shudder at the thought, and that was it. That was enough for Henry, the end, the pièce de résistance, the final straw that broke his composure, and he laughed. He doubled over, forehead on his knees for support, as he struggled to breathe, and his whole body shaking. Tears began to run down his cheeks, finally free of his vain attempt to hold a straight face.

As his giggling subsided, he leaned back against the wall and gasped, taking big gulps of air that his lungs were screaming for, his ribs aching from laughing. He raised a hand to his face and wiped away the tears streams from down his cheeks. He tittered for a few seconds longer before he finally felt himself calm down and his body relax. With a final deep, calming breath, he turned to the little devil that had caused such mirth.

The demon’s eyes were as large as dinner plates, and seemed to sparkle. His smile, while small, was slowly growing as shock was replaced by something else. The toon’s entire expression seemed to be a mixture of awe and indescribable joy. A couple of happy tears ran down his face as he stared at the old man.

“That… that was… I think…” Bendy stumbled over his words, before giggling gleefully. He blinked rapidly for a few seconds and his face returned to a more normal, but still happy, expression. “I think that’s the first time I’ve made you laugh, old man.”

“No, it’s just the first time you’ve caught me,” Henry assured. He leaned over and tousled the demon’s head, not that he had hair to tangle. Leaning back as the toon tried to smooth the hair he didn’t have, he gave Bendy a gentle, but level look. “And you dodged my question.”

Bendy winced at the reminder, but relaxed at Henry’s mild expression, clearly glad that it wasn’t a reproach. He sighed and lowered his chin back to his knees. Rather than a petulant expression, the animator found his toon sporting a thoughtful one. He made silly faces as he thought, like he used to in his show, moving his mouth around to silly positions on his face. After a couple of minutes of thought, he stilled his movements.

“It’s not really Hammerspace that I’m missing. I mean, yeah, it was useful and all, but that’s not the real problem,” Bendy admitted quietly. He raised his head to look at Henry, rather than the other side of the cupboard, who was listening to him quietly. “It’s what I could pull out of Hammerspace that I miss. My gags and stuff. When those kids were picking on Delilah, I couldn’t do anything but stand there. I couldn’t play any practical jokes or anything like that. They just hurt her feelings and laughed, and–“

“Okay, okay, I get it. I get it,” Henry assured him. He reached out and brushed his thumb against Bendy’s widow peak outline, clearing away the ink that was beginning to melt down the toon’s face. He was glad to see the contact even managed to calm his friend down slightly, the dribbling ink returning to its rightful place. He leaned back slightly as a thought occurred to him. “Maybe, instead of trying to solve this with toon gags and pranks, you use real world one instead?”

“There are real world gags?” Bendy asked, curiosity instantly piqued. His expression morphed into genuine interest and excitement when Henry nodded at him. “Like what? Like what?”

“I’ll have to take you into the joke shop next time we’re in town,” Henry chuckled. “There’re lots of things in there that I think you’ll like. We could get you a squeaky hammer.”

“Not quite what I had in mind, old man,” Bendy explained, his shoulders drooping slightly. “But… maybe there’s something else in there that’ll help me give some payback to those bullies. Nice and clean stuff, of course!”

“Ah, I see. You’re after some harmless retribution, huh?” Henry noted as the metaphorical penny dropped. He smirked as Bendy shrugged in response, once again showing how much it really meant to him. “Well… in that case, you could always spitball the punks.”

“What’s spitball?” the toon frowned, cocking his head to a side at the unfamiliar term.

Henry sucked his breath in through his teeth. For a moment, he struggled to keep a smile off his face at Bendy’s surprised expression, determined to put on the melodrama for the little devil. After a quick thought of how to proceed, he began his grandiose tale.

“What is spitball?” the animator echoed in an incredulous voice. He began to gesture as he continued. “Why, spitballing is a timeless real-world prank that has lasted through the ages! Its ancient art form has been passed down from generation to generation, taught only to those who are worthy of its… its…”

Henry took a deep breath in and tried to calm himself. Clearly his earlier giggles were threatening to come back with a vengeance, and he was struggling to keep up the momentum of his epic tale. He had always been a fantastic animator, but story telling was another matter entirely.

Hesitantly, he peeked back at Bendy, wondering what the toon thought of his antics. He was surprised to find that the little devil had crawled out of the airing cupboard and was all but hanging off his arm. He was enraptured with the old man’s words, by the’ myth’ of spitballing, and Henry had to hold back another threat of giggles at the sight of the captivated demon. He hadn’t even noticed that the animator was struggling to keep a straight face, or maybe he didn’t care.

The toons were all equally as mesmerised by the ridiculous, over-the-top soap operas that they would find on the TV.

“It is taught only to those who are worthy of its mischief,” Henry whispered, leaning in towards Bendy as he quickly finished up his act. “Do you think you’re worthy, punk?”

“You bet, old man!”

Bendy’s eyes were alight with eager enthusiasm and his smile bright at the challenge to be worthy of a gag or prank. The good-natured passion in the toon’s face was reminiscent of the few times in the studio when Henry had done something unexpected and ‘fun’ as far as the little devil was concerned, when then toon had looked… like the truest form of himself.

It was a very welcome sight.

It was then, of course, that the ramifications of Henry’s actions dawned on him. Teaching the demon how to spitball his ‘enemies’ was undoubtedly a recipe for even more numerous complaints against the little punk, which may even extend to police complaints.

And yet…

“God forgive me,” the old man muttered up to the ceiling. His quick prayer of apology sent, he turned back to the demon. “Alright, you little punk, I’ll teach you tomorrow. The good pastor and his flock should be visiting after lunch. We’ll have plenty of targets to practice on.”

Bendy smiled wickedly at the thought.

[lady-stardust7-blog]

Seclusion: Chapter 2

Summary: Belle French arrives at a secluded cabin in the Scottish Highlands, expecting to spend a week there by herself. What she doesn’t realise is that Euan Gold has had the exact same idea.

[Chapter 1] [read it on Ao3]

Chapter 2/6

“So, what did you have planned for the day?” asked Belle, towel-drying her hair as she walked out of the bathroom. Although a towel was safely wrapped around her body, Gold immediately turned red and looked away after the half glance he made towards her. She smirked as she continued her route to the bedroom to get dressed, and left a slight crack in the door so that they could carry on their conversation.

“Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “I didn’t have anything planned. But if you wanted, I could drive us over to Inverness. It’s only about twenty miles or so. We could have a wander down the high street, get something to eat by the coast.”

Belle almost tripped over the skirt she was putting on.

“You want to come with me?” she asked.

“Oh, er… I mean - if you don’t want me to, I could just do my own thing,” he stuttered. “I just thought it would be easier because it saves you spending a fortune on a taxi.”

“No, no,” she interrupted, popping her head through her shirt and coming back out to join him. “I’d love for you to come too. And Inverness is a great idea! Well, I’m all unpacked, let me just dry my hair and I’ll be ready.”

***

Soon enough, Belle and Gold had arrived in the small city. The car journey had been fairly easy, they had sunk into a comfortable silence whilst Belle had finished her book and Gold concentrated on reading the signs. He parked the car and Belle got out first, eager to see everything.

“First things first,” said Gold, pointing to an old-yet-classy looking building. “I think there’s a stop we need to make.”

She followed him through the entrance and immediately fell in love with the warmly-lit interior. Cluttered bookshelves filled to the brim, on every wall and in between. A spiral staircase led to the balcony above, which went all around the shop and consisted of yet more books. The smell of coffee from the in-store cafe teased her nostrils. She turned to Gold, who looked a little amused at her wonder.

“How did you know I like books?” she asked.

“You finished reading one in the car. I gathered you’d need to replace it. Have a browse, I’ll get us a hot drink,” he explained, before walking over to the barista.

Belle didn’t know where to begin, so she worked her way around from the entrance, studying each shelf in turn. Gold promptly returned with a coffee for them each, but soon the cups were empty and he instead found himself with a dozen books in hand while Belle continued her search.

“How are you going to narrow it down?” he questioned from somewhere behind the pile. Belle frowned slightly in confusion.

“Narrow what down?” she replied. She didn’t wait for an answer before she dived straight back into the bookshelf.

A quick trip back to the car was necessary in order to drop off the huge collection of books she had just bought. Once they were locked away, Belle looked back to Gold for what to do next. He was still massaging his biceps from the long haul.

“I sometimes get a little carried away,” she said, apologetically. He waved a hand in dismissal.

“It’s no matter. There’s a restaurant nearby, right beside a loch if you’re hungry. It does excellent Scotch pies,” he suggested, and Belle agreed.

They took a table outside by the loch, illuminated by candle light. Once the waiter had departed with their order, it was just the two of them, surrounded by the peaceful sound of water in the evening air.

“So, do you come to Inverness a lot?” she asked, resting her head on her hands as she studied the man before her.

“No. This is the second time, actually.”

“What do you normally do when you visit your cabin?”

“The reason I purchased that cabin was because it was away from everything else, not because I wanted to see everything else,” he said, dryly.

“So you just lock yourself away?”

“Basically,” he answered. “I normally keep myself busy. Work on little projects, catch up with some reading, that sort of thing. What about you, anyway? You live in Australia?”

“Originally I did, but my dad moved us to America years ago after my mum died, and we’ve been there ever since.”

“And what happened with your fiance, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Belle wasn’t sure if he was actually interested, or whether he was asking purely out of courtesy, or to avoid the awkward silence they would otherwise be in. But after the waiter had placed down their drinks, Gold looked straight back to her, as if he was hanging onto every word.

“It’s a long story… well, actually, it’s not,” she added, on second thought. “I don’t know. We were just very different people. I realised I was with him for the wrong reasons, and that wasn’t me. There’s more to life than… just settling down and closing your eyes.”

“Such as?”

“I want to see the world,” she said, her heart filling with excitement just at the thought. “I want to learn new things, meet new people. There are so many languages to learn, and so many sights to see. I don’t want to miss out on that, just for the sake of conventionality.”

“That’s very ambitious.”

“What about you? Have you got a wife?” she prompted, realising that she was spilling her personal life to a man she knew nothing about.

“A long time ago,” he admitted. “She left me, for somebody younger and more attractive.”

That surprised Belle - Gold wasn’t an unattractive man in the slightest. He clearly took care of himself, and the way that he held himself in a three-piece suit oozed confidence. If anything, his age added to his allure. He didn’t seem bothered or insecure about the situation, however - simply resigned, as if talking about somebody else’s wife.

“But you’re an attractive guy,” she argued. She hadn’t realised the potential weight of her words until she saw the affect it had on Gold, who blushed for the second time that day.

“Thank you, but apparently she didn’t think so,” he said, stiffly. “I have a son, too. His name is Neal, studying Literature in London.”

Belle loved the way that his eyes suddenly lit up when he mentioned Neal, and so she began to ask more about him. Soon, Gold seemed like a completely different person, smiling and reminiscing about his boy. He even pulled his phone out to show her photographs of him.

They continued smiling and exchanging casual details about their lives over their food, when Belle suddenly became aware of how dark it had become around them, and then came the realisation of how tired she was. She tried to stifle a yawn, not wanting Gold to think she was yawning at him. He noticed regardless.

“I bet you’re knackered,” he said. “This must be the middle of the night for you, what with the time zone you’re on. Come on, I’ll drive us back.”

They paid the bill and made their way back to Gold’s car. Once they were inside, the heating quickly warming them up, Belle felt herself drifting off. What felt like seconds later, she felt Gold tapping her gently, stirring her awake. He guided her back to the cabin and whilst she was getting changed in the bathroom, he sorted out the bedding. When she came out, he had the sofa all laid out and ready to sleep in.

“I’ll sleep here,” he announced. “You can have the bedroom. You look like you need a decent night’s sleep.” She smiled gratefully, and then he suddenly looked embarrassed as something dawned on him. “I, um… didn’t bring any pyjamas.”

At the look of shame on his face, Belle couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He looked like a child who had just admitted to drawing on the walls.

“In all fairness, I didn’t realise that I would be sharing my cabin with somebody else,” he said, defensively.

“It’s fine, Euan, it really is. I’ve seen it all before. I’m not gonna be offended if you sleep in your underwear,” she reassured him. He didn’t look much less embarrassed but he nodded. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, you could borrow one of my night gowns,” she teased, but he didn’t seem to find it funny.

“Goodnight,” he said, shortly, and she retired to the bedroom. Once the door was closed behind her and the light was off, she sank underneath the covers. The warmth soon enveloped her, and she appreciated the feel of the fresh linen against her skin. She was just on the verge of letting sleep take her once more when she heard a noisy huff from the living room.

She ignored it, and turned to go to sleep again. She allowed her mind to wander back to the cute cobblestone pavements they’d walked down earlier, and the beautiful way that the street lamps were reflected in the rippling loch as they tucked into their warm food. It was almost like she was there once again, when - the sound of springs and a loud huff intruded through her ears again.

She could hear Gold tossing and turning every thirty seconds or so, often with a loud sigh of discomfort to accompany it. Eventually, she’d had enough. She got out of bed, turned on the light and opened the door. Straight away, Gold looked up to see what was wrong.

“Is the sofa uncomfortable?” she asked, bleary eyes still struggling to adjust to the light. She could make out his guilty expression through the beam of light that escaped the bedroom.

“A little. Sorry, I’ll try and keep it down,” he mumbled.

“It’s a double bed in here. You can just come and share it, we’re both adults,” she suggested. He sat up properly whilst he considered it, giving her a brief glimpse of his chest as the covers slid off of it.

“Are you sure?” he hesitated.

“‘Course not. Your back is probably gonna need the support of a comfortable mattress after you struggled to carry those books for me earlier,” she smirked.

“I didn’t struggle,” he grumbled, as he held his pillow over his torso and followed her into the bedroom. She almost joked about the vein in his forehead that had risen as he carried the books to his car, but decided against it. She couldn’t hurt the man’s ego when he was already feeling fragile about being in his boxer shorts.

“I don’t normally do this on the first date,” she joked, once they were underneath the covers together. She heard Gold chuckle next to her.

“Goodnight,” he repeated, and that was the last thing she heard before she finally fell asleep.

[itscooltobefanficy]

Clarence Hall- Germination (2)

Summary:  Y/N has hit a dead-end in her life. Desperate to get away from her controlling mother, she takes a job as a nanny, working at an English country house caring for the Countess’ six foster children- alongside Steve Rogers and James Barnes. As the weeks pass, Y/N realises she’s beginning to find her place, and even happiness, in the chaos and laughter of Clarence Hall: but that summer something happens that turns all of their lives upside down.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Female pronouns)

Chapter 2/?: Germination

Word count: 3146

Warnings: None!

This is what I call a *nothing* chapter when I’m being harsh, because it’s basically scene-setting and character-building and all that jazz. Part and parcel of a long story. Love to all <3

~

Dinner is a loud, cheerful affair, that involves a lot requests to pass the serving spoon and don’t knock over the salt cellar, and no the dogs have their own food they don’t need any of yours. Besides a few random questions from the children, you’re allowed to sit quietly and adjust to the atmosphere. It’s a world away from silent, stilted meals of home.

After enforcing dishwashing duty (with a surprisingly low level of complaining), everyone troops through to what might once have been a drawing room, but the cavernous space is now kitted out as a playroom. You are careful to avoid treading on the Lego pieces that litter the carpet, and smile to see the stack of mattresses and covered furniture in the far corner that probably functions as a den. Maud takes what is clearly her customary seat on a throne-like armchair by the back window, and her charges scurry back and forth with schoolbooks, Meccano pieces and enormous dogs in tow. A comfortable routine unfurls in front of you. Somebody turns on what sounds like the Cars soundtrack. You end up pressganged into helping Nat with partial fractions, which, thankfully, isn’t beyond your scope (she giggles when you grumblingly wish for your algebraic calculator, which would solve this stupid problem in about 0.02 seconds). Sam starts practicing backflips. Bruce sits on the floor, enthralled by a book that’s half the size of him, detailing the creatures of the Amazon rainforest. Teacup potters around before flopping by your feet, apparently realising you’re a soft touch when it comes to belly rubs. You slide off your chair, sink your fingers into her wiry coat, and oblige.

By the time nine o clock rolls around, you’re covered in cream-coloured dog hair and feeling, to your own surprise, fairly relaxed. Steve climbs up from where he’s being swallowed by a squashy beanbag and blows a piercing whistle. Everyone stops what they’re doing- apart from the dogs, who leap to their feet and trot over to him.

“Bed, gang! School tomorrow. Everyone have their work done?”

There’s a chorus of yeses, and there’s a general rustle as six kids get to their feet and start trickling out of the room. It takes some persuasion to get Bruce to relinquish his book, but eventually he acquiesces. Maud coughs, delicately.

“I shall retire, too. Thank you for your work today.” She eases to her feet and smiles as Steve presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”You watch her shuffle out of the room. There’s a moment of silence.

“Congratulations,” Bucky says, swinging upright and grinning at you, “You made it through your first day.”

You sigh, and nearly smile. “I did.”

The music changes: soft trumpets, the swinging beat of jazz. You tick your head to where Steve stands by the speakers, and he shrugs. “Nicer ambience.”

Bucky snorts. “For the tidying?”

“No.” Steve flops back onto the beanbag with the air of a man who won’t be moved for anything, except possibly an earthquake, “For the sophisticated adult conversation we’re about to have.”

That makes Bucky scoff; he turns to you, eyebrows raised. “You hear that?! As if we don’t have sophisticated conversations.”

You raise your hands to ward off an argument. “This isn’t a debate I’m about to walk into.”

“See?” Steve wags a finger at you, “That’s a mature viewpoint. Not- ow!” Bucky’s lobbed a cushion at him, and it hits him squarely in the face. Steve wrestles the cushion away and pulls a stern face. “Go ahead and prove my point, why don’t you?”

Still laughing, Bucky drops onto the big grey sofa and pats the space beside him. “Whatever, spoilsport. Come on up, then, Y/N. If we’re going to be having sophisticated conversations, we should all be on the same level.”

You get to your feet as Steve gestures indignantly to himself (the beanbag puts him only a few inches off the floor). Bucky just smirks. “That’s what you get for taking the moral high ground so often. Need to keep you lower, so you’re on a par with us mortals.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but gives up protesting. You sit gingerly on the edge of the sofa, then realise that you can pull your legs up without anyone telling you not to, so you curl up in a ball and rest your chin on your knees. It might not be the most comfortable position, but rebellion is sweeter than any ache in your spine.

“So…” Bucky gestures with his hand, clearly biting back a grin, “Anyone actually got any sophisticated topics of conversation?”

You shift a little to lean against the cushions and shrug. Steve shoots a glare at Bucky and clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything.

“Suppose we could get the backstory stuff out of the way,” Bucky says, easily, “Though I’m not sure it counts as sophisticated.”

“Don’t let Peg hear you say that,” Steve warns, idly, and Bucky’s eyes widen in agreement.

“Peg?” You ask. Steve eyes you for a moment, then shares a fleeting look with Bucky, who scrutinises you in turn. Then he pulls a face.

“Might as well tell her now. She’ll find out you’re a sexual deviant soon enough.”

Steve looks carefully around for errant children, then flashes the finger. “You’re not funny, Buck. Not funny at all. OK,” He turns back to you, “I’m in a polyamorous relationship with two women, Peggy and Angie.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Bucky asks, bluntly.You blink, staring at the pair of them. Of all the things you’d expected him to say…“Like- a triad?” You ask, carefully. This is all a bit outside your experience (besides that joke about the knight and polyarmoury, which you still find hilarious) and you don’t want to be disrespectful. Your question seems to have sent the right signals, though- Steve visibly relaxes.

“Yeah, exactly like that.”

Bucky just gives you an approving nod. Your curiosity waxes stronger in response, and you lean forward.

“So, Peggy’s one of your partners?”

“Yep. Angie’s the other.”

“They call each other girlfriend and boyfriend, in case you were nervous about using the term,” Bucky adds in, helpfully.

“And what do they do?” You ask.

“Angie works on the West End, in the costume department in one of the big theatres. Peg…”

“Peg does something very secret for Her Majesty’s government,” Bucky’s answer is punctuated with a wink, so you can’t be sure if he’s joking or not. Steve doesn’t contradict him, though.

“What about you? A hot physics partner waiting back home?” At your expression, Bucky shrugs. “I read your CV.”

For a moment, you think back on your degree: on coming home at seven each night, locking the door behind you, ignoring friend requests and messages for three miserable years- then you shake your head.

“No. No partner, physics or otherwise.”

No hint of the bitterness underlying your words seeps into your tone, and Bucky and Steve just nod their acceptance.

“Fair enough. The parents down in the village are fairly relaxed about it, though I’m sure it helps that Peg and Ang aren’t here a lot of the time.” Steve’s voice is resigned, and you frown sympathetically, distracted from your own unsatisfactory history.

“When are they next home?” Bucky asks, and Steve sends him an exasperated expression. Bucky heaves a sigh. “Look, I can tell you that Clint has shooting practice tomorrow, Sam and Rhodey are going to the playing field to have a kick about, and that Nat has a spelling test next week, but if I tried to fit any more schedules up here I would explode.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Peg’s down this weekend. Angie can’t make it for at least another two weeks.”

“Shame.” Bucky yawns through the word. “They’re like fairy godmothers to the kids. One wave of a magic wand and all their problems disappear.”

“In a swirl of coding and face paint,” Steve says, idly, and although his voice is casual the sheer love behind his words is clear to hear. Your heart squeezes in- jealousy? Longing? You can’t be sure, and before you have time to ponder it, Bucky is getting to his feet.

“Call me a lightweight, but I’m going to bed. After I’ve put this godforsaken Lego away.”

You snort, and clamber up to help. “It’s the most painful thing in the universe. Scientifically proven.”

“Oh, is it?” Steve asks, teasing, and you nod, seriously.

“I did my dissertation on it, actually.”

Their laughter is soft and warm, and when you say goodnight, you can’t believe how normal you feel.You should have known it couldn’t last.

~~

That first night, you hardly sleep. The bed is too hard; the covers too heavy; the curtains too thin. The night is clear and verging on cold, the way an English spring often lapses back into sudden chill, and moonlight seeps in through the window to bleach out the room. Fairy-light, Aunt Liv used to call it. It’s been years since you’ve thought about that.

The dream, your usual dream, leaves you shaking and sweating and verging on crying out. You stifle any sounds behind your hand and switch on the light sitting awake until the dawn steals across the sky, and it’s safe to get up.

When everyone else is up, a military operation swings into action. You smile around your yawns, jamming slices of bread into the toaster as Sam scampers around the kitchen wearing a fuzzy lavender cardigan and Clint plays a game with Nat that seems to involve a lot of toes being crushed by the wheelchair tracks. Your nightmare is swiftly washed away by sleepy, childish voices and the smell of breakfast.

“Sam, you look great, but that’s not permitted under uniform rules,” Bucky says, amiably, then sticks his head around the kitchen door, “Tony! Ten minutes until lift-off!”

Steve and Bruce are attacking Hrothgar’s coat with a dog brush, an indignity the hound bears with an appropriate expression of long-suffering. Rhodey is tearing through the shoe rack, brandishing one trainer and muttering threats under his breath. The rest of the pack snuffle around the table, hunting for crusts.

“Y/N, can you grab Hulk’s harness?” Steve asks.

“It’s on the drawers in my room,” Bruce adds, helpfully.

“And knock on Tony’s door when you’re down there,” Bucky tells you, “Kid’s probably trying to hack the Pentagon as we speak.”

You disregard Bucky’s assertion (after all, Tony is twelve years old), but nod and step outside.

You find the dog harness easily enough- pausing to throw a selection of dirty clothes into the laundry hamper- and rap your knuckles on Tony’s door. “Tony! Five-minute warning!”

“Just a second,” Comes the reply. You give him thirty before knocking again.

“I think Bucky said something to the effect of hacking can wait until this evening,” You call, and there’s a scuffling noise.

A head of dark hair appears around the door, and brown eyes give you an exasperated expression. “Fine. But if you’re going to stay, you’ve got to start calling the dads by their proper names.” He bustles past you, schoolbag swinging.

“What did he mean?” You ask, when the hordes have stampeded out of the door and begun their walk to school, “Your proper names?”

Bucky groans into his mug of tea; Steve snickers.

“You can take this one, Stevie,” Bucky grumbles, and Steve claps him consolingly on the shoulder.

“Every summer, we have a proper holiday for the kids,” He explains, “Pitch the tents at the bottom of the garden, cook over a fire, all that. Last year, somebody-”

“Clint,” Bucky interjects, darkly.

“- Decided to hold a vote over who was the coolest dad out of the two of us. And, due to-”

“Blatant favouritism-”

“My natural charisma and charm, I won. Which means that I am officially known as Rad Dad.”

Steve sounds so satisfied with this that you burst out laughing.

“You think that’s funny?” Bucky sounds like he’s trying to be very serious, but is very tempted to start giggling, too, “They decided that my appropriate title was Granddad.”

The three of you dissolve into laughter.

“I’m dreading getting assigned a nickname now,” You say, when you can breathe again. “Rad dad, Granddad and…”

“Don’t even try to predict it,” Bucky says. “It’s one of those things that happens horrifyingly quickly and it’s utterly irreversible.”

“Like kids in general,” Steve adds, wryly, and the two of them laugh.

“How did you end up here?” You ask, suddenly curious. They exchange a look.

“I advertised,” Maud’s voice answers, as the kitchen door opens and the dogs leap into a frenzy, “And Steven replied. James joined him some months afterwards.” The old lady gives you a pleasant smile. “They proved to be somewhat indispensable.”

“Always nice to hear such glowing praise this early in the morning,” Bucky grins, “Tea, Maud?”

“You know that I appreciate your courtesy in asking,” She says, in a dignified voice, “But the answer is always yes, James.”

James? You frown, and make a mental note to ask about it later, as Bucky gets up to fill the kettle.

Later, however, has to wait. Over the next few hours, there’s more laundry than an army would generate to put through the rickety washing machine; then there are bathrooms to clean, towels to peg on the line, dogs to let out and gather back in again. Steve fires up an alarmingly ancient-looking vacuum cleaner, which sends all of the dogs scurrying into the boot room, and the three of you move through the house together, brandishing dusters to flick over the reams of furniture. There’s a fridge to inventory, and lunch to cobble together from the remnants left inside- and straight afterwards, Steve says something about guttering and a stepladder.

“Need any help?” You ask, but they shake their heads in tandem.“We’ll be fine. You could get out in the garden, if you like?” Bucky offers. “There’s a trunk full of coats and jumpers in the boot room.”

You nod, and get up from the table, excitement starting to cautiously bubble in your chest. “Any idea where the gardening supplies are?”

“I keep the basics in the shed behind the privet hedge,” Steve answers, and you thank him and head into the boot room. No time to waste. There’s a garden out there crying for attention.

You dig through the gigantic carved chest in the boot room until you find an extraordinarily hideous yellow jumper and a lumpy woollen hat; both are pulled on, along with your cracked pair of wellingtons. Then you open the back door and go in search of the shed.

The beds on the back patio bear the full brunt of your first attentions. They are choked with straggling weeds and the remnants of long-dead roots, the soil crumbling and moist as you wrench the gnarled remains from the depths. A light drizzle begins to fall; you hunch your shoulders and carry on. Your muscles begin to feel it, slowly but surely. Your back starts to throb. You don’t stop. That’s part of the joy of it, paying the tax of exacting transformation. After two hours, you have a mound of debris, dirt showered everywhere, and three flowerbeds bare and empty, ready to receive whatever you should choose to plant.

There are five more to go, but still. Progress.

~~

Before dinner, the illusion of peaceable companionship between the six pre-teenagers is thoroughly shattered. They bicker and snap at one another, the fracas ebbing and flowing as Bucky and Steve are constantly forced to step in. Only Rhodey seems above it all, frowning at the grain of the table as the arguments fizzle across his head. You can empathise.

“Hey,” Steve nudges your shoulder, then raises his voice, “Seeing as Rhodey is the only one who’s not making a solitary hut on the slopes of Kilimanjaro look appealing right now, he can take Y/N down to the vegetable stall and find something to cook. The rest of you-”

“Sit down and shut up!” Bucky roars. You jump; but the kids all immediately assume expressions of amused contrition. Then they do as he says.

“I’ll see you suckers later,” Rhodey smirks, then gets up from the table as a wave of protest rises up from his siblings.

“Don’t antagonise them,” Steve tuts.

Rhodey takes a jam jar out from behind the mug tree and takes out a handful of change, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Fine. Come on, then.”

You pull on your shoes and follow him out.

The sky is still grey, but the rain has finally moved on, and although the wind is cold it’s not bone-chilling. Rhodey walks along with his hands in his pockets, a smug grin still hanging around his face.

“Grandad’s not that scary, you know,” He says, when you’re clear of the straggling pine trees and heading down the drive, “He’s just got the loudest voice.”

A smile twitches at the edge of your mouth. “He need to use it a lot?”

Rhodey frowns, thinking about it. Then another grin pushes out, a little kid grin, full of mischief and possibility. “Nah. We’re all perfect.”

Laughter bursts out of you; nervous laughter, tight with the newness of it all, but Rhodey doesn’t seem to notice. You walk down to the village together, through the narrow streets lined with big houses, until you find Rosemary’s vegetable stall, which is just a trestle table strewn with trays and dirt. Rosemary herself is sat in a deckchair, wrapped in a coat with a terrier on her knees, and she smiles when she sees Rhodey drawing closer.

“Hello!” The terrier jumps down to come and enthusiastically sniff Rhodey’s trainers.

“Hey, Rosemary,” Rhodey gestures to you as he draws up to the table, “This is Y/N. She’s helping up at the house.”

She gets up to shake your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

You return the gesture, feeling the dry skin, the cracks. Gardener’s hands. If you looked, there’d be grime around her cuticles.

“What are you growing?” You ask her, reflexively, and her eyes light up.

In the end, you only leave to walk back home because Rhodey’s getting impatient and your watch is ticking closer to dinner time. Your head buzzes with ideas.

“Rhodey,” You ask, as you pass between the gates, heading back up the drive, “Where’s the nearest gardening centre?”

Rhodey just rolls his eyes. “I can see why Aunt Maud likes you.”

You smile. “I like her, too.”

He casts you a look, then, testing for a lie. When he doesn’t find one, he nods. All that’s left is for the two of you to savour the last few minutes of silence, before the back door opens to admit you into the house once more.

AN: I start work next Tuesday (!!!!!!!) so writing will take even more of a back seat :’( Love to all (again) <3

Tag list:  @brooklyn-to-battlefields; @hollycornish; @merakily-exhausted; @basicwhiskeyprincesss; nilssonelinnn; @moist-bread1234; @siobhanrebecca; fandoms-who; @marvelrevival; @buckys-wintersavior; @lookfxrme; @kissingwintergoodbye; @buckybabybaby; @dr-vengence; @vintagesaph; @thewinterchildren; @lovepizza-cake11; @iamwarrenspeace; @thefridgeismybestie; @allyp1023

[loisinherlane]

Title: Domino (Revised Chapter 1v1 (aka Season 1 Episode 1)

Summary: The war ended. The witches were vanquished. Domino had fallen. Though only sixteen years had passed, the Magical Dimension had done its best to forget its failures and move forward. But just as the dust seemed to settle, a new trio of witches seeks the same power their elders were denied. Without the royal family of Domino, no one knows where the Dragon Flame they use came from--but the strange girl from Earth may have answers.

Notes: Am I entirely finished with this chapter? No. Am I going to post any other chapters soon? No. But I wanted to get this out there. This is a revision of a fic near and dear to my heart. Unfortunately for readers on its original site of posting, I will not be continuing there. This first version of chapter 1 is a tumblr-exclusive, and once I finished editing, I’ll also post this on AO3. But for now, let me explain a little more.

Some of you around my age may remember a show called Wi .nx Club (censored to prevent tagging). This was my favorite show for a long time. However, as I’ve grown older, I’ve noticed more and more problems with the show, and as much as I loved my fic idea (based off of my dad’s complaint about Bloom’s abandoning her parents in the first episode), I had too many other ideas to contain. So, here this is: a large rewrite that completely overhauls the first season, changes a few characters significantly (basically this is less girl hate and more LGBT friendliness along with a few more adult themes ((but not too many because I’m too ace for that)) ), and is basically a big venture on my part. If you could, please, please talk to me about this. This story means so much to me. But I won’t make this note longer than necessary. Here we go.

-

Though all contact with Earth had abruptly ended after the disappearance of the Earthen fairies--a disappearance sadly preceded by their retreat into a small, glamoured area where they erased all evidence of their existence from the world and the memories of Earth’s other inhabitants--Earth was still regarded as a somewhat forbidden tourist attraction. With rich foliage to rival Lynphea, a strange sea life only comparable to Andros, and a resiliently adaptive variety of cultures, the World Without Magic was a fascinating getaway for many, so long as they could afford the hefty fine if caught or evade capture. Visiting Earth was a chance best taken when the opportunity presented itself.

For this reason, Crown Princess Stella de Soleil-Lune of Solaria saw absolutely no problem in stopping mid-transport to Alfea (for her second first year) on Earth. She didn’t have to be there for a few hours, and so long as she didn’t arrive more than half an hour late, it wouldn’t really matter. Her parents hadn’t bothered to wish her off this year, so no one knew exactly when she left, and it wasn’t out of the line for her to run late. It was the perfect plan.

Landing in the middle of a town called Gardenia, Stella intended to spend her detour examining how Earth’s shopping fared. Of course, landing in a forest-y clearing only to be greeted by an ogre derailed those plans.

-

Episode 1

The Earthen Fairy

-

There was no one but Bloom home in the Peters household during the summer. California summers brought on all sorts of fires, and Mike was always busy with the fire department, aiding anyone who needed help. Summer was also the time the flower shop flourished, so Vanessa rarely had time off. Occasionally, Bloom stepped in to help, but mostly she spent her time at home or out with Selina and Andy. Each morning, Bloom would rise at 8:30, just in time to tell her parents goodbye before they left work, and then she would find something to do, or fall back asleep.

“There's our little blossom. Always a late bloomer,” Mike teased as he finished up the last drops of his coffee. Bloom half-heartedly glared at her father before taking her seat at the kitchen table and stretching out, setting her feet on her father’s lap.

Vanessa was scanning her phone to check on flower orders, and she sighed loudly. “Look at this. This man wants to send flowers to his boyfriend, but his boyfriend is allergic to certain flowers. And all he says is, ‘Don't use the flowers he's allergic to.’” She sighed and set the phone down on the kitchen table, her nails lightly clicking against the screen as she closed out her calendar.

Bloom smiled sympathetically and patted her mom’s arm. Vanessa returned the look as she squeezed Bloom’s hand. Mike, refusing to be left out, joined in, his paler hand stark against their tanned skin.

“So you're both getting off at five today?” Bloom asked her parents, finally waking up enough to grab a piece of toast. She took a knife setting on one of the empty plates and carefully spread butter across the surface, smoothing it evenly.

Mike nodded, stretching his arms over his head and grunting with the effort, though it seemed to be more a huff at the day itself. He stood up slowly and began to gather his things for work, which wasn't much, as he tended to keep everything at the fire station. Vanessa hesitated.

“I think I may have quite a few orders today,” she sighed. “I'm not sure.”

Bloom perked up a little at the idea that she might have something to do. “Do you need help?” she asked eagerly.

Vanessa tried not to hide her worried look as she pushed her dark hair behind her ear. “No. No, don't worry about it, dear. We’ll handle it.”

“Oh, Mom, come on. I only broke one vase!” Bloom whined.

“One four hundred dollar vase,” Vanessa countered, straightening her overalls and checking her reflection in the window once more. Bloom flushed a little red, though the effect wasn't much with the fieriness of her hair. She rolled her dark blue eyes and crossed her arms.

Mike straightened up from where he’d been adjusting his boots. He smiled at the two ladies as he grabbed his keys. “Alright, ladies. I'll see you tonight. Good luck at the shop, Vanessa,” he said softly, leaning in for a kiss. Bloom averted her eyes and made a face. Mike laughed as he pecked his daughter’s forehead. “Are you going out with Andy and Selina today?”

Bloom frowned at the mention of her friends and shook her head, slumping back into the wooden chair. “No. Andy has his family reunion, and Selina’s at this… fantasy convention thing.”

“Ah. Well, don't sleep all day then,” he teased, finally moving towards the door. Vanessa kissed her daughter goodbye as well, and then Bloom was left alone.

On a day like that, there wasn't much for Bloom to do. Unwilling to do nothing and being entirely awake, she grabbed a baseball tee and a pair of jeans, getting dressed and ready to go. Bloom’s brand new(-ish) bike was dug out from the back of the garage, where she shakily mounted it and rode off to the park. She never went any further than that, as she didn’t trust her bike-riding skills to take her any farther. Both Andy and Selina were busy, so she was alone with Kiko, dropping her bike against a tree as she bought an ice cream. The park was fairly bare, for a summer day, but it was hot. Most people were probably reveling in their air conditioning.

“What a boring day, Kiko,” Bloom lamented, setting the bunny in her lap. He was kind of an odd rabbit, fur a little bluish in tint, and he never ran off, no matter where Bloom took him. She’d found him one day in the backyard. When she opened the door to go inside, he’d dashed in front of her. Her parents had been a little hesitant with Kiko at first, never wanting him outside of his cage, but it soon became apparent that as long as he had his litter box, there would be no messes. The Peters decided not to question their luck, and Bloom kept her strange little friend. “I just wish something interesting would happen for once.”

Kiko just gave her a funny look. After a moment, his ears perked up, and he darted off into the woodsy section of the park. Bloom shot up, alarmed.

“Kiko!” she yelled, abandoning her bike and running after him.

Following the pitter-patter of little bunny feet was difficult. Luckily, Kiko seemed intent that Bloom follow him. Pausing every once in awhile so she could catch up, Kiko led her to another clearing, too deep in the trees to be visible from civilized areas.

“Kiko, what are you--” Bloom froze. They hadn’t quite exited the shaded shelter of the trees, but the clearing was brightly lit by the sun, and the two figures before her were, well--

“What the hell do you want?”

The girl looked like something out of an RPG, glittering orange shorts and top that almost looked like lingerie, the translucent skirt of her--was it a dress?--almost like sunshine, like the rays visible in the air on a sunny day. Three small wings protruded from her back, and Bloom vacantly wondered if her was pulled into pigtails to keep them from tangling. She swung what looked like a scepter haphazardly.

The . . . thing she was fighting was hardly fazed by her efforts. A smile spread across his muddy yellow face.

“What a weak fairy. You don’t even use your powers,” he said slowly. Bloom couldn’t decide if it was an unfamiliarity with the language or an affectation, but it certainly fit the role he was playing. He did seem to have an odd accent. She couldn’t quite place it.

Bloom looked down to Kiko. “Fairy? They must be roleplaying or something,” she shrugged, prepared to return home. Kiko darted around her feet, preventing her from moving. “Kiko!”

The girl in the clearing was knocked back, but instead of landing, her wings fluttered. She hovered a few feet above the monster and stuck out her tongue. “You can’t get me from up here!”

His lips curled, and small red . . . gremlins darted out, jumping towards her. The girl screeched.

“I am Stella de Soleil-Lune, crown princess of the reunited Solaria! If you harm me, my parents will show no mercy!”

Bloom hesitated, looking at Kiko. He stared at her expectantly. She looked back at the girl and her terrified face.

“But what do I do?” she murmured. After another moment’s trepidation, she grabbed a stick, ran forward, and smacked the monster from behind. “Leave her alone!”

The monster spun around a little, more out of surprise than pain. Both he and the girl stared, and for a second, Bloom’s heart stopped. Oh, no. Had she interrupted some sort of game after all?

Then the girl took the moment to act, the gremlins having stopped without any orders. A bright light shot from her fingers and destroyed the gremlins.

The monster growled menacingly at Bloom. “You little--” He tried to grab her wrist, but the moment he touched her skin, Bloom cowered, and a warm pulse rushed through her. The monster was knocked away.

The girl’s brows shot up. “Hey, you’re a--”

The monster huffed and turned away, grumbling, “I don’t have time to deal with you. She’s the one I want.”

“But you can’t have me!” The girl raised her scepter high, closing her eyes. “As crown princess of Solaria, fairy of the sun, moon, and stars, I call on the power of the heavens to banish the one who threatens me!”

Bright light flooded the area, and yet it didn’t seem to blind Bloom. When the light died down, only the girl--Stella, she remembered--and Bloom remained.

Stella smiled brightly in a sort of way that made even Bloom a little flustered. “I’m so glad you’re here! I thought--” Suddenly, she wavered, her expression faltering into something weak. She blinked a couple times, then collapsed, her attire disappearing in a shimmer of sunlight, leaving the girl in odd, yet regal, attire. Exchanging a quick look with Kiko, Bloom knelt down beside her, hesitantly placing a hand on the girl’s clammy forehead.

“Shit.”

-

What was she to do with an unconscious girl in the middle of the park? Bloom was only a few inches over five feet, and Stella seemed to be fairly tall. No matter how skinny she was, Bloom was sure she couldn’t carry the girl home, or even out of the forest to the rest of the park. Aside from that dilemma, she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to see Stella. Whatever had just occurred wasn’t normal, and there were only four people on Earth she would trust with that. Her parents being at work, she elected to beg Andy to duck out of his family reunion. He, at least, could carry Stella. Not that he was particularly pleased with the situation, but he’d never been able to say no to Bloom.

(“Why didn’t you call your dad? Or an ambulance?” he asked with a sort of fond exasperation as he set Stella on the couch in Bloom’s living room. She pulled the soft blanket from the basket and carefully draped it over the stranger.

“Dad’s at work, and an ambulance--”

“Yeah. Alright,” he said, brushing it aside as he left. Suddenly, Bloom no longer felt like telling him about her adventure.)

When her parents returned, there wasn’t much she could do to explain the sight of an unconscious, unfamiliar girl.

“We need to take her to the hospital,” Mike insisted.

“Dad, we don’t even know who she is. What if they do something to her?” Bloom fretted.

Vanessa knelt down by Stella, looking her over briefly. “Honey, we don’t even have first aid training. What are we supposed to do? She’s clearly… ill,” she said, stroking Stella’s hair lightly. Stella stirred, eyes flickering open. The Peters stared intently, ready to see what she said as she awoke.

“If the sun’s not out, it’s not time to get up.”

Mike made sort of a frustrated look, and Vanessa sighed.

“Young lady, you’ve slept past sunset. I think it’s time to get up,” she prodded.

Very slowly, as if in protest, Stella opened her eyes and sat up. Abruptly, she slammed her hands on the cushion of the couch and scanned the room until she caught sight of Bloom. “You! Thank the moon and stars, someone I can trust. I need to borrow your phone.”

Bloom hesitantly glanced to her parents, who didn’t know what to tell her. Fingers trembling, she pulled her sky blue phone out of her pocket and handed it to Stella. The girl frowned in confusion. “Oh, did I forget to unlock it?” Bloom asked, reaching to take the phone back.

Stella didn’t seem to hear her. “What planet are you from?” she asked slowly.

Bloom raised a brow. “Earth?”

Stella stared at Bloom suspiciously before she understood that Bloom was being completely honest. A look of wonder spread across her face, and she bounced eagerly.

“I found a real life Earth fairy? That’s-- That’s crazy! We thought you were dead! Have you been in hiding all this time?”

A fairy. Stella had said that before, but… Surely Bloom wasn't really a fairy. That was crazy. Magic wasn't real. And yet she had no explanation for what was going on.

Question after question came flying, but they only served to heighten the confusion of her hosts. Mike and Vanessa turned to look at their daughter again.

“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Bloom insisted. “I told you. I was in the park when I saw her fighting this . . . thing.”

“An ogre,” Stella interjected. “He’s been attacking a lot of princesses lately. My parents didn’t want me to travel alone to school, but . . .” She hesitated, like she didn’t want to get into that.

Mike sighed, running a hand through his graying blond hair. “About half of that made sense. Look, why don’t you call your parents, and we’ll see if we can figure this out.”

Stella crossed her arms over chest. “Well, I would if your phone had intergalactic coverage. Earth is so woefully behind. Oh, but I’m sure with an Earth fairy being properly trained at Alfea, everything will be better.”

“What’s Alfea?” Vanessa asked.

Stella stared blankly. “You . . . don’t know what Alfea is?” When she realized the name had no recognition in any of the three, she sighed. “Alfea College for Young Fairies. It’s a training school. And the best one in the Magical Dimension. Magix City is home to all three of the best schools. Alfea, for fairies,” she reminded, “Red Fountain, for Specialists, and Cloud Tower, for witches.” Her lips snarled at that last bit.

Mike shook his head and looked at Bloom. “This girl must be suffering from heatstroke. I’m going to call a doctor.”

Stella pouted, her wide brown eyes flashing indignantly. As soon as Mike grabbed his phone, it flashed into a carrot. He froze as the carrot slipped from his fingers, and Kiko hopped over to investigate, mouth open and teeth bared to take a nibble. Stella smiled sheepishly and pointed her finger to lift the carrot into the air.

“Sorry. I’m not really good at controlling that yet,” she explained.

Bloom stare in awe. Half-convinced that the scene at the park had been some crazy hallucination, she wasn’t sure what to make of this. “You-- You’re really a--”

Mike and Vanessa exchanged a solemn look while Stella brightened.

“Stella de Soleil-Lune, fairy of the sun, moon, and stars, crown princess of the reunited Solaria,” she said delicately.

Bloom smiled shyly. “Um. Bloom Peters.”

“Fairy of . . . something!” Stella supplied. “I don’t know what you did, but that ogre couldn’t touch you. It was amazing. And you weren’t even in fairy form! I had to rely on this.” She paused sadly, a little disappointed in her abilities, spinning her ring around her finger.

Bloom hesitated. “You did finish him off.”

“I sent him about ten kilometers away. But thanks,” she replied.

The room fell silent, and Bloom looked back at her parents. They only stared at her, then looked to Stella.

“What’s fairy form?” Bloom asked after a moment.

Stella furrowed her brow. “You haven’t transformed yet? Most fairies can by thirteen. I was an early bloomer. I did it by twelve,” she said proudly.

Bloom shook her head. Stella sighed and tossed the blanket off her legs, riding to her feet. She held two fingers up on each hand and crossed her arms over her chest. In a flash of light, the form Bloom had seen earlier, pigtails and all, reappeared. Mike and Vanessa gaped.

“So,” Stella said, “let’s see you try.”

Bloom didn’t know where to begin.

Stella was clearly unaware of how to teach someone something that was so integral to her.

“Okay. Well. Um. Hold up your fingers like this,” she instructed, showing Bloom how her index and middle fingers were together while the others were folded on both hands. Bloom copied the position. “Okay. Then, to, um-- Well, this creates sort of a . . . channel of magical power. You want to make a burst of energy that will allow you to transform. By crossing your hands over each other, the energy from both sides meets, and--”

Bloom nodded and did as she remembered Stella doing. Nothing happened.

“No! Okay, yes, I mean. That’s what I do. But you have to find your own technique,” she explained. “A lot of fairy families have techniques specific to them, but I mean, even then, you really just have to find what works for you. And sometimes it depends on powers. Certain focuses need to be charged in different ways. I don’t really need any of that, but I just think it’s easier to have the energy close during transformation--”

Vanessa interrupted. “Is this something you should be doing inside the house?”

Stella started, as if she’d forgotten they were there. “It’s harmless. Really. And Bloom needs to know how to transform if she’s going to go to Alfea with me.”

“Alfea,” Bloom repeated, intrigued by the idea. Mike shook his head.

“My daughter is not going anywhere, especially not some school we’ve never even heard of.”

With a dainty huff, Stella lifted her shoulders. “I just told you! It’s the best place Bloom can go to train herself. She’s a fairy! She needs it.”

Bloom slowly lowered her arms. Looking back at her parents, she hesitated. “Um. When does school start? Maybe I can consider it,” she tried to mediate.

“Um, problem,” Stella pointed out gently. “I’m on my way to school. And I’m really kind of late. My parents are going to kill me. School starts in like three days. I’m supposed to be moving in now. But I’m sure Ms. Faragonda will turn a blind eye if I bring you!”

Bloom looked back at her parents. Vanessa smiled as she placed a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe next year, honey. I don’t think--”

Stella sighed. The ring around her finger began to glow, and the color drained from her face. “Oh! I’m so sorry to dash off like this, really, but if you’re not coming, I have to go. My parents are trying to track me, and if they find out I’m on Earth--” Her face lit up. “Aha! I can say the ogre attacked me. That will work. Yeah, I was transporting, and I fell on Earth because he attacked. But I still ought to go. Thank you so much. May the moon and stars bless you.” She pulled the ring from her finger and tossed it up until it turned back into the scepter Bloom had seen her carry. In another flash of light, she disappeared.

Eventually, the Peters decided that the best thing to do was forget about the encounter. Bloom was still unsure of the existence of magic, and her parents were unsure of what to do with the knowledge. Summer passed; school resumed, and Bloom spent her time with Selina and Andy delving into fantasy novels and homework.

As for the crown princess of Solaria, she elected to remove their part in the story when she arrived at Alfea. After all, why would anyone believe there was a fairy on Earth? She’d already been nearly expelled. It was better to stay on the straight and narrow this year. Her suitemates never had a clue that Stella was involved in any incidents other than the decimation of the potions lab.