#people having powers is nothing new to her

[brucedefender4eva]

Thoughts on the magical powers of the bat-cape, shielder of many a Robin throughout the decades? It's one of my favourite images of all time: Hulking Batman with his baby birds literally hidden under his wing. MY HEART 💖💖💖💖🙏🙏🙏

Magic cape is always for the win!!!

Whether or not Bruce understands that his cape is magic doesn’t matter. I think it would be hilarious if he just, denies it lol. Like it’s doing its thing making him look fucking insanely creepy but Bruce is like “what are you talking about, magic doesn’t exist”

It could happen over a course of time. As he patrols and protects Gotham more throughout the years suddenly his cape seems to have a mind of its own (kinda like sentient Gotham giving her knight a better weapon.) Or maybe it was like that from the beginning and since Bruce was a lot more lax back then he kinda just accepted it with a shrug.

It’s big, it’s dark, it’s warm, and it always strangely smells like vanilla and cinnamon. The perfect place for birds to hide.

Dick did it once to hide from a criminal and it was like his eyes were opened. It is the one and only thing required to be passed down by all Robins, no matter how much you hate the new one. Required.

Unless it’s a high stress situation and being under the cape is for safety, any of the batboys fall asleep immediately.

Being in a safe place right next to their dad? Whether they like it or not Jason their bodies immediately relax and lose all tension

If there’s only one of them, instead of letting them sink into the liminal space that exists in the cape, Bruce will hold them. He will make any excuse to hold any of his children.

You can always tell when this happens, not because Batman’s stoic face changes at all, but because there is an air of ease and contentment around him

It only works for the batkids and Bruce has to be the one wearing it. If it’s not Bruce, then it just a regular cape, but once Bruce puts it on, it opens up just for his birds

Obviously, since Bruce has to be wearing it for it to appear, he’s never been inside. But he can reach into it and pull out a kid by the scruff of their neck if he has to. His kids would try and describe it but then they realize it’s different for everyone unless they’re actively trying to be together.

Like, unless Bruce says something beforehand or they see it with their own two eyes, they won’t know their sibling is also in there. Tim comes out of the cape and so does Damian and they had no idea the other was also in there (should’ve guessed, Bruce wasn’t trying to hold them)

It freaks out any superhero who sees it for the first time. Like Nightwing joins the Justice League and without explanation, just disappears into Batman’s cape??? He’s gone??? That’s a grown ass man?

Hal, ever the ballsy one, lifts up Bruce’s cape and its… nothing?? It’s just a regular cape, hiding Batman’s fucking fantastic ass. The League thinks Batman’s cape ears people and they’re wondering how to bring up this safety hazard when Nightwing pops back out holding a soda in a movie theater cup looking refreshed and relaxed

So many shenanigans, like a nice creepy cape that’s like a clown car attached to a man who can and has taken down gods before and will do it again but only easier.

[callmeagardengnome]

✗ mob mentality ✗ | ATEEZ (series masterlist)

pairings ✃ individual! mafia! ateez x fem! reader

genre ✃ mafia au, one-shots, angst here and there, romance, potential yandere behaviour, romance

details ✃ a collection of (unique…?) mafia one-shots WITH NO SMUTTTT created by yours truly.

۶ blood in the clouds ৎ

[mafia leader! hongjoong x flight attendant! fem! reader]

it’s finally your last day as a flight attendant. you wanted nothing more than to laze on your couch and watch netflix - just to find out that one of your passengers blew out the brains of your pilot with a gun.

in which hongjoong decides to hijack a plane that his rival’s daughter is on.

poll

۶ sugar and sin ৎ

[mafia! seonghwa x fem! reader]

seonghwa goes above and beyond to eliminate his targets: going undercover in places they go to most. when you happen to spend your time in a secluded bakery, seonghwa decides to bake your treats with doses of poison - yet somehow, you keep surviving.

in which you thought you made a new friend in your local bakery, when in reality - your ‘baker’ keeps mistaking laxatives for poison.

۶ marathon extravaganza ৎ

[mafia! yunho x rival! fem! reader]

yunho has been a professional shooter for all of his life. he’s killed lawyers, federal agents and even highly-protected politicians. so why does his shots keep missing you?

in which you and yunho become obsessed in a stalking game of cat and mouse, and it turns out that you have a lot more in common than you thought. 

۶ under the hood ৎ

[mafia! yeosang x car mechanic! fem! reader]

as a mechanic, you tend to see clients on the daily - some new, some old. but when one of your regulars leave a $100,000 bag of cash on your counter, it seems like you’ve turned from ordinary citizen to wanted criminal. 

in which yeosang accidentally gave you the bag of money he stole instead of a ten dollar tip. 

۶ fries in the bag ৎ

[mafia! san x fast food employee! fem! reader]

san’s most effective method of killing is by using his looks to lure his enemies - making many powerful women (and men) fall for him. but when a regular person seems to be unfazed by his charms, san decides to do anything to make you fall in love with him. 

in which you finally got through your 2am shift, only to find the severed head of your abusive manager at your doorstep. 

۶ voice of crime ৎ

[mafia! mingi x anime VA! fem! reader]

when you entered the voice acting industry, you knew that there would be people that either loved you or hated you. but what you didn’t expect was to get shot at an anime convention by a weeb in cosplay. 

in which mingi accidentally shoots his favourite voice actress instead of her boyfriend that was beside her.

۶ money makers ৎ

[mafia! wooyoung x fem! reader]

day and night, you work in a shitty multi-million dollar corporation that doesn’t care about you. and to make matters worse, you had to find out that the whole company is in debt to a mafia gang by getting kidnapped during office hours. 

in which wooyoung tries to torture information out of you, only to realise that he’s found his kryptonite: a suicidal intern. 

۶ siren’s call ৎ

[mafia! jongho x jazz singer! fem! reader]

as the newest addition to the mafia, jongho got assigned to the boring task of scoping out a random bar in town. annoyed, he decided to leave early. or so he tried. when the singer stepped on stage and sang into the mic, her voice pulled jongho further into the bar than out. 

in which you notice a regular in your gigs, though you begin to realise that your male audience seems to be disappearing one by one. 

hi yall! i initially only wanted to make one hongjoong oneshot until i realised how much i love mafia aus. there will be no smut in these stories and at most, there will be a detailed kissing scene. also do not expect regular updates!

if you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask!

series taglist [OPEN] - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio

other fics

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Story Idea

I don´t know why, but i love the "yandere emperor" figure. So, here's my idea:

Darling(you) was originally a young woman of high society who was forcibly married to the respective king of her people when he was a prince, against her will. She had a young lover whom the king murdered (because he believed that she was unfaithful) after her family practically sold her; after this, the king mistreated her harshly as punishment for years, while her family insulted and cursed her, even when she tried to explain to them that nothing happened.

These mistreatments and depressions caused her to lose the pregnancies she had, which made her desire for revenge against her family and against that disgusting king begin. She tried to escape several times, but was always caught. It must be said that the king did not love her at all, and was constantly unfaithful, humiliating her to feel proud of himself. All this continued until Darling saved a seemingly ordinary young man who was being persecuted, without imagining that this was one of the sons of the emperor who ruled his kingdom and all the others (it was specifically the crown prince). Due to the pain of the wounds, the young man did not pay much attention to who Darling was, but her sweet voice was engraved in his head, and since then, he could not stop thinking about her.

Later, the boy recovers and sees her more clearly, realizing that she is not only gentle and kind, but she is very pretty. That is when the prince knows who he is, and although he leaves at that moment, he decides that when he takes the throne, she will be his. It is not long before the emperor in power dies and the aforementioned prince ascends; in the meantime, he dedicates himself to investigating more about her and spying on her a bit, ending up falling madly in love with her and causing him to kidnap her and without even asking the king, he annuls the marriage. This is when he becomes the yandere emperor.

Darling is initially upset and outraged, but upon seeing the affection and good treatment that the yandere emperor has (removing all his strictness), in addition to his power over all the kingdoms, including that of her ex-husband; so she decides to put together a plan of revenge since the king not only mistreated her in countless ways (physically, emotionally, sexually, etc …) and moves pieces to earn her place among the imperial court (and more so if the yandere emperor already has an empress or several consorts) and fakes even her way of breathing; she learns the rules and customs of the new palace, as well as purposely approaches the yandere emperor to further awaken his obsession.

What the Yandere Emperor didn't know at first was that Darling had bruises from his mistreatment; these were the reminder of his revenge. Darling made her husband fall even more in love with her, but she still gave him hints about her past suffering as his obsession grew, which made the Yandere Emperor start to investigate. On their wedding night, when they were getting intimate, she slowly took off her clothes and there he finally saw all the bruises; when the Yandere Emperor asked for an explanation, she told him everything.

She tells him about the contempt she experienced; how her family sold her; the forced marriage; the murder of her love; the false accusations made against her; the abuse and mistreatment… everything up until the day he came into her life. She even asked him not to throw her out, since she had nowhere else to go but the imperial palace. Then the yandere emperor promised her that under his care, NO ONE will ever lay a hand on her or insult her again.

Days later, Darling learns that the emperor murdered her family and ex-husband in cold blood, along with the former servants who tortured her. The emperor saw how this made her very happy, as her revenge was successful. Meanwhile, the emperor is also happy, as from now on she will not have to think about anyone else (According to him).

I'm kind of tired of the fact that whenever I read a "Yandere Emperor x Reader" Darling, it's always submissive. I like to think of a Darling who appears to be submissive, but is actually so evil as to use the emperor to her advantage.

[zachbiller]

It's been half a century since the debut of Himitsu Sentai Gorenger, to celebrate the franchise's 50th anniversary, a new Super Sentai is born, the No. 1 Sentai Gozyuger! As their name suggest, the story is about heroes with beast motifs, a motif that is overwhelming popular among children, as they strive to become the best and the stongest, the "Number One" of all the Super Sentai to date. 

These five heroes have their own unique personality will go on a rampage and they are:

Gozyu Wolf is unsociable and foul-mouther, but he is strong and somewhat violent. Although he is difficult to approach, he is a good guy at heart.

Gozyu Leon in contrast, is a charismatic hero who is kind to everyone, regardless of gender.

Gozyu Tyranno is naïve and often finds himself in trouble, but he has incredible strength, so there is nothing to worry about!

Gozyu Eagle is a fun loving playboy who takes pride in his agility!

Gozyu Unicorn is the first "black heroine" in the Super Sentai Series. Despite her cool personality, she cares deeply for her family. 

The Gozyugers will fight against enemies sent by an evil army called "Number One Monsters" who are the best in all fields. They will engage in "Number One Showdowns" with the Number One Monsters and rescue people who have been mercilessly drawn into the conflict. At the same time, a battle over the Sentai Rings will also break out! The five heroes are driven to fight to "collect all the rings" and are also rivals competing for said rings. In addition to the core five, rivals with the powers of previous Reds will appear one after another! It's "Sentai vs. Sentai"! The enemies are the previous Reds and the Gozyugers! There can only be one No. 1! 

[olderthannetfic]

TW Suicide. I talk about suicide from a religious perspective, and religion is not kind with suicide.

I might be reaching but I think religious Asian countries might be more proship-friendly than western countries??

Let's see a few cases. Japan. I'm not sure how religious Japan is, but they have very strict values and traditions. There are so many how-tos and even the language has levels that you can only use to certain people, otherwise it's rude. They can't express queerness so freely that yaoi/yuri is the best outlet they have, and they got called rotten for it.

Japan is notorious for being very proship friendly. There was even a huge "what is proship and why should you block those with 'proship DNI' in their bios" thread over on Twitter and it was so widely shared by Japanese users. At that point, even antis took off the "proship DNI" off their bios (such cowards lol).

The people in my religious (Muslim) country and its neighbor, Malaysia and Indonesia, even the minors, are so proship-oriented that I only ever saw exactly one person with "proship DNI" in their bio. And their posts tell me they're the more "liberal" people of the country. You know, the ones that the older people are using as examples of "Look at that girl. She's been poisoned by the western values, she's showing so much skin. Don't be like her". Now I obviously will just laugh at older people who says such things but hear me out.

The people who are actually practicing religion to the point where nothing sexual is allowed, who WILL screech at sex (both vanilla and kinky) in fanworks should they ever join, won't touch fandom with a ten-foot pole. This leaves us with the absolute freaks who thinks "I'm religious, I believe in God that other people call fiction, but I can't have sex until I'm married and masturbation is haram, so smut fic is actually a great way to let off tension! No one real is having sex so it's a green area. I'm not masturbating, I'm just reading. Sometimes they excite me, most of the time not! Halal mode."

Also, murder and suicide is a sin. A huge sin. If you tell someone to kill themselves and they actually did, the religious guilt would be MASSIVE. I can't imagine an actually correctly-practicing religious sending death threats and not be haunted by the promise of a sin. A sin that involves other people is much harder to forgive (it requires forgiveness from the hurt people, and that's impossible with suicide. They can't forgive you if they're dead) than a sin that involves yourself (masturbation. All you have to do is regret and never do it again. Which is why suicide is seen as unforgiveable. You can't undo it).

So, it sometimes makes me wonder that in the west, MAGA catholic conservatives shares a lot of values with fanpols. But in religious countries, the actually rigid religious ones aren't in fandom, so the fandom is filled with people who aren't evangelical purists.

This incoherent yap might be reaching, but hey, a new perspective to US-Europeans or non-religious people. It's just kinda funny to think about. Since you are very well-spoken and critical (I think so from your replies to the asks!), what do you think?

--

Well... I think there are a lot of specifics here that are hilarious in how you've framed them. (The situation with queer people in Japan has evolved a lot over the last couple of decades. That isn't at all how I'd describe politeness levels in language, and I think your assumptions based on how politeness works in Japanese are ludicrous. Catholicism isn't the big, powerful flavor of Christianity in the US, so it's not where the majority of the nutbars ruining politics come from. Etc. Etc.)

But back in the 90s in US fandom in English, slash was the domain of freaks, and the puritywankers were openly homophobic and did not hang out in the same spaces.

Yes, I do think that part of the rise of the current flavor of antis has to do with somewhat wider acceptance of queerness combined with an overall anxiety-inducing and uncertain situation. They're not secure enough to chill the fuck out, but they wrongly believe that our battles for queer rights here are done and/or that they can be won by throwing the freakier members of the community under the bus.

[cowboylikefaith]

with great power...

art donaldson spiderman! au x reader

summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.

warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread

author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!

╰🕸️ ₊✧ ﾟ❤️⚬𓂂➢

"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."

art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"

you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?

now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.

until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.

"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.

"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"

"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."

you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."

"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"

and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.

one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.

"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.

"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"

before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.

"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..

oh my god

"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.

art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.

"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).

you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.

"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.

"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.

at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.

you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.

"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.

art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.

"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."

you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.

suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.

"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.

"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.

you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.

you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"

[clown-friend-gt]

Fantasy AU Part 1

It's been a while since I've posted any writing, so I wanted to change that! Here's the first part of my fantasy AU of Heroisms. I talked about the basic premise of this story here.

In this part, Trevor and Addie are younger than they are in the main story around 12/13. There's also a lot of focus on Addie getting ready in the beginning, but I thought it was a nice way to highlight some aspects of the setting. Also, it's my story, so I get to decide what details get included, so if you don't care about what people in a psuedo-historical fairy tale setting eat and wear, too bad! (or just skip it, you do you)

As for the main story, I am still working on it! The next chapter is actually almost done, but I'm thinking of waiting until I get the next few chapters done until I start posting that one again, since I have some time off from work right now. It's coming fairly soon, I promise. Until now, enjoy this AU!

************************************************************************

Once Upon a Tower

5.7k words

Princess Adelaide woke up for the first time in her new room. She was surrounded by cloud-soft bedding. Gentle sunlight shone through the windows to warm her face. Just beyond, she could the chorus of birdsongs. All in all, it was a rather lovely place to be held captive.

She sat up and stretched her arms above her head to try and chase off some of her sleepiness. Despite herself, she began to yawn. She quickly placed a hand in front of her face to stifle it. Even if no one was around to see her, she had to remember to keep up appearances. If she was ever to earn her way out of here, she’d have to carefully maintain her regal sense of poise.

She stepped onto the plain wooden floors with her bare feet. Despite the warm sunlight, the floor was still a bit chilly. A shiver ran up her spine. She waited for it to pass before making her way over to the room’s only window.

       

The bars on the window were the only indication of her imprisonment. It wasn’t as if they were necessary; she’d be sent plummeting to her death if she tried to escape through this window. They only served as a cruel reminder. No matter how nice the room behind them was, the iron bars proved that it was nothing but a gilded cage for her.

       

Adelaide felt her eyes begin to sting and tore her eyes from the window. She couldn’t get upset, now. Her curse always started acting up when she let herself get emotional. Even now she could feel that strange feeling of weightlessness bubbling up within her. A gentle but powerful urge tugging her away from the ground.

       

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She hadn’t noticed herself beginning to float, but now she felt her feet gently return to the ground. She felt oddly heavy after, just like she always did once the magic left her body.

       

Today will be a normal day, just like any other, she told herself, turning away and leaving the window behind.

************************************************************************

Out of all of the troubles she’d imagined would come from being locked away in a tower, Princess Adelaide never thought that making breakfast would be one of them. It had never occurred to her just how reliant she was on the palace staff for little things like this. But now that she was on her own, she was utterly lost.

       

Finding food was no trouble, of course. Her family had made sure that she would always be provided for while she stayed here, and the cupboards full of food clearly demonstrated that. The trouble was, she had no idea how to prepare any of it.

       

She had decided on a simple breakfast of bread and jam. She figured even she could manage something as straightforward as that. She found a plate, a napkin, and her utensils easily enough. Then she had to slice the bread.

Logically, she knew the nice, neat slices of bread she’d had served to her before had to come from somewhere, but she found herself slightly unsure of how to proceed when presented with a loaf of bread. Was she just supposed to tear it apart with her hands? Surely that couldn’t be right.

She searched her little kitchenette for something to cut it with. In one of the drawers, she found a few knives. She selected the sharpest one, assuming it would be best for this job. She carefully held the handle in both hands and began to cut the bread.

       

It took her a couple of tries to find purchase. Instead of biting into it like she’d imagined it would, the knife started smooshing the bread, flattening the top. She frowned to herself as she pushed harder, and the knife finally cut into the bread.

       

Once she’d managed to slice the bread all the way through, she held it up to admire her handiwork. The slice was misshapen, and much thicker than she preferred. It would have to do. She set it aside on her plate and got to work on the next one.

       

Her second try didn’t fare much better than her first. The only difference was this time, the slice of bread was much too thin. She set the knife down, looking between her pitiful slices and the loaf of bread. Maybe she should throw these out and just try again?

       

She shook her head. No, this was the start of a new life for her. She couldn’t live her life as frivolously as she had in the palace. She had to fend for herself, and that meant that she couldn’t waste precious resources.

       

Now it was time to select a jam. She had plenty to choose from. Apple jam, cherry jam, even grape jam. She eventually decided on a jar of blueberry jam. It was her favorite, after all.

       

She held the clay jar in one hand and began to pry out the large cork with the other. But the cork was wedged tighter in the jar than she had expected. She dug her fingers into the cork and pulled with all her might. With no small amount of effort on her part, the cork came loose from the jar with a pop!

       

As luck would have it, though, the jar slipped from her hands the moment the cork was freed. It fell onto the floor and shattered, spreading its contents all over. Addie glared at the globs of jam.

She ignored the way her mouth watered as she stared at the mess. She may have been living a rougher life now, but she would not be eating off of the floor. She was still royalty, after all. But it was disappointing. Blueberry jam only came around in the late summer, and that was months away.

       

Addie sat down to eat her breakfast of bread and no jam. She chewed it lazily; it was good quality bread, but it made for far too dull of a meal on its own. Occasionally, her eyes would drift over to the jam covered floor, her temptation only increasing as time went on. But her sense of discipline prevailed.

       

After breakfast, she went back to her mess on the floor. She carefully picked the ceramic pieces from the jam. Then she stared longingly at her fingers coated in that sweet berry-flavored substance.

       

Just one lick wouldn’t hurt.

       

After her meal of boring bread, the sensation of blueberries practically danced upon her tongue. So tasty. So tragic.

       

With a heavy sigh, she reluctantly cleaned the rest of the jam off of the floor with the cloth napkin she’d set aside for herself. She cleaned as much off as she could, but there was still a bit of sticky residue left on the floor. And the napkin was utterly soiled. She’d have to throw it away.

       

Then she went to the bedside table where there was a mirror, a pitcher of water, and a bowl. She poured the water into the bowl so she could perform her morning ablutions. She wet her face with water, then patted it dry with a towel. She also swished a little water around in her mouth, then spat it back into the bowl. Then she set it aside to empty out later.

       

She examined herself in the mirror. She’d had her hair braided for her before she left, so her natural hair would be protected for at least a month. She frowned at the few pimples that dotted her dark brown skin. They’d started showing up a few months ago, around the same time as her curse. Their unsightly appearance was an ugly reminder of the reason she was trapped.

       

She stared deeply into her amber-colored eyes. Was it just her imagination, or did they hold a little less luster than they used to, before she was locked away? She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to chase those thoughts from her mind.

       

Now, it was time for her to dress herself. Yet another thing she’d never done on her own. But she’d seen her maids do it hundreds of times. Maybe she could pull it off by herself after all.

       

She exchanged her nightgown for a white chemise. That was easy enough. Then she pulled on her stockings, bending over in an undignified manner to do so, and tied her garters on to secure them. After that, she pulled on a pair of drawers under her shift.

       

Then she went back to her wardrobe to select a pair of shoes. She chose a simple blue pair of slippers.

       

Cautiously, she selected a pair of jumps from her wardrobe. These were less structured than the stays she wore for formal occasions. They also laced from the front, although Adelaide rarely did so herself. She pulled them on over her head and pulled the laces tight.

       

She paused before tying them. No one was around, right? She could maybe afford to leave them a little loose. She didn’t have the smallest figure by any means, and her maids tended to lace her undergarments tight to make up for that fact. Now that she had to dress herself, she got to make that choice for herself, and she chose to loosen her jumps a bit before tying them in place.

       

She chose two petticoats to wear beneath her skirt. It was sunny out, but still a little chilly in the stone tower. Two petticoats would hopefully provide her with a bit of warmth. She pulled them on, and, after fiddling around in front of the mirror for a few minutes, managed to secure the ties in place.

       

Finally, she was ready to choose her outerwear. She wanted to keep things fairly simple, but her clothing was rather limited in that regard. She eventually found an unembellished skirt of blue silk, as well as a white waistcoat with bluebirds embroidered onto it. Perfect for spring.

       

To finish it all off, she tied a pale-yellow sash around her waist. She examined herself in the mirror, and decided she didn’t look too unkempt. Not bad for her first time dressing herself.

       

Now that she’d finally finished feeding and clothing herself, all Adelaide had to do was to find something to occupy her time. That sounded easy enough, but it was the part she had been worried about. All that time couped up with no one around for miles sounded absolutely dreadful. Like the stuff of nightmares.

       

She approached the bookshelf that rested against one of the walls. She examined the titles that lay within, weighing her options. The books rattled in place, distracting her from her search. She examined the bookcase, but it seemed stable. Then it happened again, and with a start she realized that it wasn’t just the books; the floor beneath her was shaking. Every few seconds, a tremor vibrated the whole tower.

Was it an earthquake? She’d read about them in books but had never experienced one herself. There hadn’t been one in the kingdom in decades. Her family had been promised this tower was the safest place in the world for her to stay. Had they been lied to?

The light from the window dimmed momentarily. Something blocked out the sun. She rushed over to see what was the matter. Her blood ran cold as she spotted the gigantic figure in the distance. Then the realization hit her like a slap to the face. It wasn’t an earthquake she was feeling.

       

It was that thing’s footsteps.

************************************************************************

It was spring in Trevor’s forest again. He could feel the warmth of the earth in his roots and the light of the sun on his leaves. Most of all, he could feel the urging of his kin through his connection to them. It was time for him to wake up.

       

His trunk shifted back into the shape of a human body. His branches twisted back into his arms. His roots receded into what became the soles of his feet. Finally, the knots on his bark reformed into a human face. His face.

       

Regaining human form was always a bit of an adjustment. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to get used to having his sight back. For a few moments, the early morning sunlight was blinding, and all of the vibrant colors of the forest were dizzying. He took a few uneasy steps forward, trying to regain his sense of balance.

       

The clothes he’d been wearing before he went into hibernation had reappeared on his body. He looked down at the plain white shirt he wore, rubbing the fabric between his fingers and admiring the craftsmanship. He wore long brown pants on his legs and simple shoes on his feet.

       

The clothes were a gift from his magus friend, Wren. They were enchanted to appear whenever he took human form and disappear whenever he turned back into a tree. He’d worn them since he was a child, and they grew along with him. He didn’t quite understand how it worked; Wren’s magic was so different from his own.

       

Wren had always been a good friend to him. He’d known them for almost as long as he could remember. In addition to gifting him the clothes he wore, they’d also taught him to speak what they called “the common tongue.” Of course, he’d never had the chance to speak it with anyone but Wren.

       

He made a mental note to visit them the first chance he got. But first, he had a number of duties to attend to. He was the guardian of this forest, and ever since he was a young sapling his kin had taught him the importance of his role.

       

He’d start by patrolling the forest. That was the easiest way to check on all of the flora and fauna that called his forest home. He’d visit everyone and ask them how they’d fared through the winter. The elders always emphasized that “attachment is a risk to the balance you keep.” But he’d come to care for many of the living things in his forest, and it was hard not to think of some of them as his friends, too.

       

He set out on his journey, keeping his steps light. Most of the forest was used to his presence by now, but he still did his best to be careful. He was as tall as the tallest trees in this forest now, and if he wasn’t mindful of how he carried himself it could spell disaster for his environment.

       

He hummed a song as he walked along, weaving a spell as he went. It was one of the first things the elders had taught him. While he carried this tune, he could walk on the ground without shaking it and pass through the trees without knocking them aside.

       

Birds flitted through the trees as he passed. He kept a silent tally of each as they flew alongside him, making sure that most had returned from their migrations. Occasionally he’d stop to commune with them. They didn’t share words like he and Wren would, but they communicated in songs instead. Through the music they exchanged, he caught glimpses of images, sensations, and feelings.

       

He held out a finger and let a few robins land upon it. He smiled as they regaled him with tales of their migration. Through their song, he saw places he’d never been, the warm islands far to the south. He’d never get the chance to leave the forest, so he enjoyed hearing about their travels instead.

       

He gave them a small wave as they flew away. It was a gesture Wren had taught him. It had little meaning to the birds, but he still liked to use it.

       

He continued making his rounds. He visited the lake and made sure it had thawed completely. He checked on some of the newer saplings to make sure they were getting enough light. Bit by bit, he made sure everything in the forest was as it should be.

       

About halfway through his trek, he felt something tugging at his pantleg. He looked down to see what it was, only to see a red squirrel scampering its way up his leg. He bent over and offered it his hand to climb into. It leaped on, and he stood up again, raising his hand in front of his face.

       

Through distressed chitters, it informed him of the large number of humans that had spent most of the winter traipsing through the woods. It bemoaned the fact that it’d been unable to dig up the acorns it distinctly remembered it had buried near the old ruins due to their presence.

Trevor nodded along, choosing not to remind the squirrel that its memory was far from perfect. In fact, many of the trees in this forest likely sprouted from seeds buried and subsequently forgotten by squirrels just like this one.

       

After assuring the squirrel he’d look into the issue, he placed it onto a nearby branch, letting it scurry away.

       

Humans. Trevor never knew what to think of them. His kin had mixed opinions on them; some were perfectly content to live alongside them, while others swore that they were nothing but a danger to the delicate ecosystems they protected. He had never even met a human, much less had time to form much of an opinion about them.

       

Humans tended to avoid him, for the most part. That is, when they even noticed he was there. It was a shame, really. As far as he knew, he was the only one amongst his kin who spoke their language. Perhaps if he could talk to them, they could figure out a way to coexist peacefully.

       

As he got close to the clearing that housed the ruins the squirrel had mentioned in its story, he dropped the spell that let him travel lightly. It always gave him a little pang of sadness in his heart when he came by here. The forest had yet to recover from when this spot was clearcut so many years ago. Save for the grass that grew from the ground and the small trees that dotted the makeshift plain, this area was completely uninhabited.

       

It wasn’t a huge clearing, at least. It was roughly a circle, a little longer across than he was tall. In the middle stood a strange pile of stones, stacked nearly as tall as he was. Wren called it a “tower.” Many of the stones towards the bottom were covered in moss, and a creeping ivy clung to one side. It was built and then abandoned by humans a long time before he’d sprouted.

       

He’d seen it plenty of times before, but he’d never had a reason to approach it until now. He had to wonder what its purpose might’ve been. Was it some kind of dwelling? It didn’t look much like the homes he’d seen humans inhabiting before, in the village that sat closest to his forest. And why had the humans visited it while he was asleep?

       

It did have one of those pointy things on top like a human’s den had. A “roof,” Wren had called it. They’d told him they were made out of straw, or something they called “shingles.” It didn’t look like straw to him, more like small black squares layered on top of each other.

       

The glint of an object on top of the roof caught his eye. It was a metal ornament the likes of which he’d never seen, hammered into the shape of a rooster. It creaked forlornly as the wind pushed it this way and that. He watched on in delight as it reluctantly turned in the direction of the shifting breeze. It was like the metal bird was dancing, beckoning him closer.

       

Unable to restrain his curiosity, he reached out and touched it, stopping it in place. Then he carefully set it to spinning again with the tip of his finger. He smiled as he watched it spin. While it spun, he pinched the thin bar that it sat upon, trying to understand how the thing worked. But he misjudged how delicate it would be, and it snapped off the tip of the roof. He examined it for a moment, before slipping it into his shirt pocket. Hopefully no one would miss it.

       

Now that he was closer to the tower, he saw that the top had openings on one of its sides. He leaned down and put his eye to the opening on the front. He looked around as best as he could, but he couldn’t see much. The opening was blocked by a pair of large metal bars.

��      

He was incredibly curious about what was inside. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, and, when it seemed he was alone, he wedged the tip of one of his fingers through the bars. The metal burned him slightly; the bars must’ve been made of iron. He flinched, but didn’t pull away. If he could quickly pry them off, he’d be able to see inside without burning himself too badly.

       

The elders often warned him to be mindful of his strength. But again he misjudged the durability of the construction, and he ended up prying away part of the wall along with the bars. He winced as he dropped it, feeling sorry for damaging it.

       

At least he could get a better look inside now. He leaned in and looked around eagerly. The room inside was filled with many objects seemingly made by humans. He considered taking some to show to Wren, who could explain their purposes to him.

       

Then he heard something inhale sharply, and his eye darted over to look at the source of the noise. From underneath a larger object draped in fabric, a small set of widened eyes stared at him. His own eyes widened in response as he bit back a yelp. It seemed he had been wrong.

       

The tower was far from abandoned.

************************************************************************

As soon as she spotted the giant, Adelaide quickly ducked below the windowsill. It hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, and she planned to keep it that way. Her eyes scanned the room for somewhere to hide.

       

The entrance to the tower was locked, so running wasn’t an option. But even if she could, where would she go? She didn’t know this forest, and even if she did, there was no way she was outrunning that thing.

       

Another tremor shook the tower and she silently cursed whoever had thought to keep her here. A giant. Really? You think I’d be safe here with a giant nearby?!

       

On a childish whim, she darted beneath her bed. Internally, she heard the voice of her etiquette teacher scolding her.

       

“Princesses do not hide under beds,” the voice said, high and slightly nasally.

       

Who cares about propriety? I’m trying to hide from a monster here! She shot back at the voice, in her head of course.

       

The room shook again, and her nerves were electrified. She felt the telltale feeling of her curse firing up inside of her.

       

Not now, please, not now, she pleaded silently.

       

Instead of floating off of the ground herself, she spotted objects around the room beginning to float instead. Bottles of perfume lifted themselves off her vanity, and the books began flying off of the shelves, hanging in midair.

       

This happened sometimes when she was especially distraught. Instead of her curse affecting her, it’d affect her surroundings, and small objects would hover around her of their own accord. She glared silently upwards, powerless to do anything to stop it.

       

She heard the giant shifting around outside. Looking up at the window, she saw a large chestnut-colored eye gazing inside. She froze, her heart hammering in her throat. She prayed silently that it wouldn’t see her.

       

It seemed like someone was listening, because the eye went away from the window. She let out a sigh of relief, only a moment too soon. The giant forced its finger through the bars of the window and hooked the tip around them. Then it pulled, wrenching the window, and part of the wall, away from the room entirely.

       

It looked into the room again, and this time, she saw more of its face. Its features were much like a normal human’s, although much, much larger. Instead of skin, its face was covered in a treelike bark. It had a knot under its left eye, like a mole. She’d heard tales of the giant guardians of nature who watched over the uncivilized world, but she’d never dreamed of coming face to face with one.

       

What struck her was how young the thing looked. If it wasn’t for its size and the strangeness of its appearance, she might’ve thought it was a boy her age. Her breath caught in her throat.

       

The thing’s eye shot over to where she was hiding, dialing in on her. Its eye widened in shock, and it retreated away from the wall. There was a large *CRASH* as it seemingly fell backwards, causing the tower to shake like never before. A single stone brick fell from the hole the giant had created, smashing on the floor below. Just when she thought the humongous creature’s fall would cause the tower to collapse, the shaking stopped.

       

She heard the creature grunted at her in its bizarre guttural language. The sound was somewhere between a cow lowing and a person speaking. Then it startled her by speaking in words she could understand.

       

“—Sorry! I’m so sorry!”Its voice echoed around her. Despite its volume, its voice sounded young, like that of a teenage boy.

       

“I didn’t know someone lived here,” he continued. “I’m sorry about you’re—ah, wall.”

       

She was speechless as he stood up and brushed himself off. Unlike the stories she’d been told, this giant not only spoke her language, but wore clothes much like that of a commoner. Where he’d gotten enough material to make clothes that fit him, she had no idea.

       

“I am called Trevor,” he said, running a hand through his leaflike hair. His voice had a strange accent to it that she couldn’t place.

       

He began to speak very quickly, like he was in a rush to get all of his words out. “I’m sorry if I scared you, like I said, I didn’t know anyone was living here. There aren’t really any humans who live in these woods. You’re the first one I’ve met! What is your name?”

He looked at her expectantly.

       

What was she supposed to do? Everything in her screamed for her to run, but she stayed stuck in place. Sure, he acted friendly enough, but that could be some kind of trick to get her to drop her guard, to lure her out of hiding.

       

He tilted his head at her as she stayed silent. “Do you speak?”

       

She opened and closed her mouth, floundering. He seemed to notice she was in some kind of distress.

       

“Are you stuck? Here, let me help.” He began reaching towards her with a single, enormous hand, with fingers that were nearly as long as she was tall. That knocked her out of her stupor.

       

“No, no, no! I’m fine,” she stammered, squeezing herself out from under the bed. His hand stopped in place, then retreated as she stood up.

       

He smiled at her again. His bright white teeth stood in stark contrast to the bark-like skin that covered his face.

       

“So you can talk! That’s good, I was worried you couldn’t. That’d be a disappointment; the first human I ever get to speak to can’t talk themselves. It’s a good thing you can!”

       

“Y-yes,” she said, swallowing dryly.

       

“You never told me your name,” he reminded her.

       

“O-oh,” she stuttered, before clearing her throat and standing up straight. If there was one thing she’d been trained to do so well she could do it in her sleep, it was introducing herself.

       

“I am Adelaide Luanda Johannesburg, First Princess of Johannesburg, Heiress to the Pearlescent Throne and Descendent of Harmonia’s Grace.” She paused briefly, trying to gauge how deeply to curtsy. She eventually decided to curtsy deeply as a sign of respect, hoping that would keep him happy.

       

“Wow, that’s, uh,” he hesitated. “That’s a lot of names.”

       

She cursed herself silently. She shouldn’t have used all of her titles, that would only confuse him.

       

“You may call me Adelaide,” she granted him.

Calling her by her first name was a special privilege, not to be given out lightly. Only her mother and her brothers called her by that name. But as far as she was concerned, this was a matter of survival, and keeping the giant happy and peaceful was more important than her honor.

       

“Ade—Ada-luh—luh—” He still seemed to be struggling with her name.

       

“Just Addie, then,” she said quickly. It was what her youngest brother used to call her, before he’d learned to speak properly.

       

“Addie. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she replied automatically.

Trevor’s eyes drifted around the room she stood in. She followed his gaze, spotting all of the knick-knacks floating around her room. Suddenly, she felt strangely embarrassed, like he’d caught her with something she shouldn’t have.

If he noticed something was amiss, he didn’t mention it.

“What are you doing in my woods?” he asked instead.

Adelaide’s heart rose into her throat. His tone was light, but his question was disarming. Did he think she was invading his territory? She’d heard stories about giants who would grow violent if they felt their domain was under some kind of threat.

She decided to tell him part of her story. If she was lucky, he might pity her instead of becoming aggressive.

“I’m trapped here. This is my prison,” she said, truthfully.

“Your prison?” he asked. “So you don’t live here?”

“Not by choice,” she answered.

“Why don’t you just leave?”

“The door is locked.”

“Why does that matter? I can help you get out, if you’d like.”

Without waiting for an answer, he began to reach for her again. An undignified yelp escaped her lips and her hands flew out in front of her, an instinctive reaction to the sight of that huge hand reaching out to grab her.

“No!”

He froze, a look of hurt briefly passing over his face.

“…I see.”

He retracted his hand sheepishly.

Adelaide felt sorrow for a moment, before that feeling was replaced by confusion. Why did she care if her actions offended him? It wasn’t like he was human.

“Besides—” she spat out, as if to cover for her blunder. “I can’t just leave.”

“Why not?” he asked, with seeming reluctance.

She paused. Adelaide didn’t really want to divulge her troubles to a stranger, and to a giant no less. But what would she say instead?

“Princesses do not tell lies,” came the sing-songy voice of her etiquette teacher in her head again.

Adelaide sighed deeply. “I—I’m cursed.”

Trevor gave her a puzzled look. “Cursed?”

She nodded, then gestured to the many objects that now glided through the air in all directions.

"Can’t you see? All this chaos is because of my curse.”

Trevor followed the path of one of the flying books with his eyes, almost as if he was noticing it for the first time.

“I was wondering about that,” he admitted.

“Well, now you know,” she said, barely hiding the bitterness in her voice.

Turning away, Adelaide began trying to fish things out of the air so she could put them back in their proper place.

“And until I learn how to get it under control, I’m stuck here,” she finished, placing a few books back on their shelves. She half expected them to fly back out, but now that her mood was falling, so too did the chintz around her room start to sink to the ground.

The floor began to tremble lightly again. Apparently, while she’d had her back turned, Trevor had started resting his hand on the side of the tower, near the hole he’d made. He tapped his pointer finger on the floor of her room absently.

“So…you do live here?” he asked.

“For the time being,” she answered carefully, thrown by the odd sensation of the vibrations of his tapping travelling through the floor and up her legs.

His lips curled into a smile. “Then I guess I’ll be taking care of you from now on.”

Startled, she exclaimed, “What?”

His smile widened to a grin. “Watching over every living thing in this forest is my responsibility. Now that you’re staying here, that includes you too.”

Adelaide was stunned. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted him “watching over” her. What exactly would that entail? But it wasn’t as if she had much choice in the matter.

       

At least she wasn’t frozen in terror like she had been before. Not to say that she was entirely unafraid of him now. He was so many times larger than her, and it would’ve been easy for him to do with her as he liked. But if he had any intention of harming her, he’d had plenty of opportunities to do so. Of course, that didn’t guarantee that his intentions with her were pure.

And now that her initial terror was fading, a kind of curiosity was left in its place. Trevor was already so unlike any giant she’d ever heard of. His manner was certainly…intriguing. She had so many questions she could ask him. That is, if she could ever get over her wariness to speak to him.

For now, though, she had to demonstrate her gratitude. She wasn’t yet sure if she was thankful for his offer, but she still had to keep up appearances.

Watching him carefully, she slowly approached the opening in the wall. Trevor hurriedly removed his hand, standing up straight as she came near. She lowered herself into a curtsy again.

“I’m most grateful for your hospitality,” she said, holding the curtsy for a moment before standing up again and forcing herself to look him in the eye, if only for a moment.

Trevor scratched the back of his head. The sound of his leafy hair moving around almost reminded her of the sound of the wind travelling through the trees.

"Wow. You sure use a lot of fancy words,” he said, sounding a little lost.

“It just means ‘thank you for letting me stay here,’” she clarified

“Oh. Of course,” he said, smiling again. “It’s my duty, after all.”

[echologname]

In support of Sam x Danny

We never got to see what the relationship of the Phantom trio was like before the portal accident but I think it's mostly similar to how we see them in the show. To me, it seems like it's implied that Sam always secretly liked Danny and then one fateful day, she and Tucker witnessed him almost die, don't you think after something traumatic like that, it's harder to keep feelings for another inside? Also, after Danny got his powers and started fighting ghosts, Sam got to witness his bravery and willingness to help people put to extreme tests. She didn't fall in love with him because of cool powers, she genuinely fell in love with who he is. His new life as a halfa, like all trials in life, helped him to become a better person, throughout their adventures virtues were strengthened and vices were weakened and their friendship was matured through its testing. I don't see it but it's a common claim that Sam only started crushing on Danny AFTER he got his powers which paints her in a shallow view. So, I'd like to point out correlation does not necessarily equal causation. Clearly Danny went through big changes from the accident but I betcha Sam and Tucker weren't quite the same themselves and if one of them being a more prominent openness to showing affection then there's nothing wrong with that.

Whether friends or lovers, I think both work but I just wanted to say, Sam doesn't deserve the hate she gets from fans for canonically being the one to end up with Danny in the end. And who's to say it's a forever thing? Teens are constantly growing and changing and so are their romantic interests. It's OK to think you work together at one point and not so much the next. Their identities are still developing and so are their brains. And if they do stay together forever, no matter what happens, then isn't that all the more sweet and wholesome? Even if Sam had an inkling of ghostly bias towards liking him, it's totally the green eyes given how much she likes plants and nature (ironically green is the color of life and health).

The whole episode with Sam falling for the fake foreign exchange guy who looks a lot like Danny's ghost form doesn't help her case. I get it, because of an example like this, fans fear she likes Phantom more than Fenton. But his whole persona WAS all an act for the purpose of targeting what a specific girl likes like telling Sam he was a vegetarian then acted like a jock in front of cheerleaders. Or maybe this is what she needed, to see that like Danny, this guy also had an alter ego but he was using it deceptively for personal gain. Meeting Danny PHANTOM for the first time might have felt like meeting a new person to her, so a stranger from another country symbolizes that. Then the truth about him being a jerk comes out when he metaphorically, "drops his mask." Sam knows both sides of Danny and knows that he isn't like that guy at all, and she's seen for herself that he's still himself no matter what he looks like. He genuinely wants to help people and doesn't put on an act. Perhaps this failed relationship helped her realize how much Danny cares for her both as Fenton AND Phantom and that he's always been a good friend she can trust (he DID spy on her in the episode and of course Sam was offended but it didn't really hurt their relationship).

Disagreeing with them being together is still understandable but c'mon, how many relationships were you in that was also a cringe pairing? Relationships aren't perfect but the people that we were/are with have helped us understand ourselves and each other more. The person you're with now may be who you need to be with for a certain period of your life to help prepare you for the one you'll be with forever. It's important for even awkward and rash relationships to take their course so we can grow from them.

So, I think we can find it in our hearts to be more forgiving to some cartoon kids. Sam and Danny's relationship is an important part of their character development no matter how it turns out or how much the ship is hated.

[inquisitornocturn]

◇─ 𝖈𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖚𝖗 ─◇

⚜ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Heinrix van Calox x female! Rogue Trader

⚜ 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: Nothing out of the ordinary for 40k setting

⚜ 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: He is working. Of course he is. Vera's vox channels might be compromised, prone to conspiracy against her, possibly putting her at risk. What does it matter if it's Sanguinalia? And yet she doesn't seem to take the threat seriously. To Heinrix's surprise, Lord Captain even releases the man he suspects of treasonous deeds. But that's not the only surprise he's about to witness because Vera never tires of teasing the Interrogator.

⚜ 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 3,558 | on AO3

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: My gift for @ofeliajuzniewroci for the @rt-gift-exchange hosted by the brilliant @jaal-ama-daravv. Happy Sanguinalia! Or, alternatively, Merry Christmas! I hope you like the little fanfic, and I hope it brightened up your holidays if they needed brightening up. I hope you have a lovely holiday season and that you have as much fun as possible!

Take care and happy happy celebration! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The man in front of him, slumping in the chair and wearing a stained voidsman-at-arms uniform, lolls his head slightly, breathing heavily. Heinrix has been trying to get the information out of this person for the past thirty minutes, but the Interrogator is beginning to suspect that maybe this voidrat knows nothing after all. He heard rumors about some sort of attempt to sabotage the new Rogue Trader and while he’s still not particularly fond of Vera, Heinrix, however, has an obligation to the Imperium and the Lord Captain of the vessel he’s currently stationed on.

“Try thinking a little harder.” He keeps his voice calm and levelled but the air around the psyker begins to drop in temperature and the man moans.

Crewman doesn’t even try to get up anymore. In the beginning Heinrix thought he will have to tie the man up in some way, but the sight of his rosette was enough to make the behind of this worker become firmly glued to the seat.

“Master Interrogator, I really don’t know anything.” Undercurrent of a sob is too easy to notice and Heinrix lets out a small sigh, knowing not only through his powers, but also just from experience that this man doesn’t have much left in him. “I just want to go back to my family, please…”

He knew that picking a day of Sanguinalia most likely will paint the Interrogator in even colder light that he is perceived in just for being a member of the Most Holy Ordos, but Heinrix never bothered to employ mercy on occasions that most others distinguish unsuitable for such actions. If anything, it’s a perfect chance to get more information out of whoever is getting questioned because just like this man, they think of their families, they think of hope rather than sorrow.

“You will tell me who are the people trying to sabotage the vox channels. Now.” The air almost crackles and Heinrix extends a hand, blueish glow surrounding his gloved fingers when he harvests the fount of his biomancy powers. It churns the guts inside of him, but the feeling is so familiar that it can be easily ignored, forgotten like a background hum of the voidship.

The voidsman moans again and then his back arches with strain because Interrogator decides to affect muscles surrounding the lungs, making the man incapable of inhaling more than a fraction.

“Please…”

Footsteps. Heinrix hears them even before the door slides open with a hiss but doesn’t stop. Whoever decided to interrupt him might as well end up in a chair next to this poor soul, who is whining under sensations of his body not belonging to him anymore. At least for the time being.

More footsteps until they stop a reasonable distance behind Heinrix and then a voice that he recognizes well enough already.

“Master van Calox, can I ask what you are doing to this voidsman?” Vera’s calm tone still cuts sharply through the groans of the interrogatee and with mild annoyance Heinrix lowers his hand, the icy air beginning to disperse immediately, and turns to the woman.

“Von Valancius, I have suspicion that your vox channels have fallen under the plot of sabotage. This man right here appears to have a lead or knowledge that is integral in stopping such plot.” Heinrix eyes the former Astra Militarum officer, seeing her disciplined stance and unwavering look in the dark eyes that lock on his. There’s no judgement there, no shock at finding him utilizing not only the power of his rosette but also those of his biomancy, and he’s relieved that at least he won’t have to listen to a barrage of hysterical screaming about how he cannot do one thing or another. Too many such cases, ignorant of the duty he’s performing, not seeing the bigger picture.

“A plot to sabotage?” Craning her neck, Vera casts a calm glance to the man behind Heinrix and then back to him. “And what is proof of this that led you to interrogating one of my people?”

“Lord Captain, please, mercy, I don’t know anything I-“ The man, now free from the torturous powers that were affecting him, immediately starts babbling and Heinrix’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing. To his relief, Vera rises her hand the barrage of pleas stops immediately.

“If Interrogator van Calox thinks that you might be culpable in some plot against me, then I will not stop him from performing his duty to the Golden Throne.” She says calmly and it surprises Heinrix somewhat, until he remembers how equally calmly Vera ignored arguments from Werserian and the Magos before launching Exterminatus on the planet beyond salvation.

“Much appreciated, Vera. But… how did you find me?” Heinrix casts a quick glance to the voidman behind him when he hears a desperate but resigned sigh, effectively silencing the suspect, but Vera comes closer and when she stands by his elbow, looking at the one who may or may not know whatever is going on with the treasonous conspiracy against her, clasping her hands behind her in a military fashion, she gives Heinrix a smirk.

“Vigdis informed me that there has been rumors about one esteemed member of the Inquisition sequestered with some terrified crewman. I thought you might be doing something more fun than this, given it’s Sanguinalia, but I should’ve expected that a man like you knows little of what it is to have fun and relax.”

Of course it was Toliman, he should’ve guessed, but then Heinrix’s brows furrow at her words and he affixes her dark eyes with a serious look.

“With all due respect, Vera, you cannot expect me to ignore possible mutiny brewing right under your nose just because it’s some sort of occasion. Traitors and heretics do not take days off.”

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t expect another love token from you. Pity.” With a sigh she looks down at the voidsman who is clearly trying not to show how surprised he is to be in the presence of such conversation.

Heinrix sputters for a moment, completely taken by surprise, and he turns to the Lord Captain, demanding her full attention.

“Vera! How many times I have to tell you that it was not a love token, it was a gift from Lord Inquisitor that you inherited because of your predecessor passing under unfortunate circumstances!” Van Calox keeps his voice partially hushed, as if the man just a mere meter away can’t hear every single syllable coming out of the Interrogator’s mouth.

“Of course.” Vera concedes with grace and a smile, then waves her hand at the voidsman. “Go for now, but keep in mind that if Master van Calox wants to question you again, he is doing so with my permission.”

Heinrix’s expression sours, but he doesn’t protest, knowing that while on her voidship he still has to obey most of her orders, even if they make little sense to him. The moment voidsman rises to his weak feet, pouring gratitude towards the Lord Captain until she dismisses him again, Heinrix already imagines at least twenty scenarios of how things will go wrong in case he was right that this suspect knows something. Interrogator prays to the Emperor that this isn’t the case after all.

“You don’t seem concerned at all that your communication channels could be compromised.” With one hand Heinrix absentmindedly touches his auspex, then the holstered gun, watching Vera glance at the chair, seat of which bears some strange moisture. Did the man… piss himself? Wouldn’t be the first. Heinrix simply sighs.

“Oh, like you have them compromised?” Vera turns to Heinrix again, her hands still clasped behind her but there’s a twitch in the corner of woman’s lips, like she’s trying to hide a smirk that threatens to emerge any moment.

“I don’t-“

“Oh please, Heinrix, do you think I am blind on my own vessel?” She rises an eyebrow and for a moment Heinrix falls silent, considering his words, measuring them carefully.

“I have inspected the integrity of your vox channels, that is correct.”

“Toliman was very concerned with you poking around.” Vera smiles at last, but even to Heinrix the smile appears to be one of amusement and not mockery or spite.

He does not know Lord Captain as the most cheerful woman around, thank the Emperor, but maybe even she is affected by the celebration. He saw the crewmen hanging decorations and Heinrix is confident he also heard old odes to Sanguinius being played through some sort of beat-up speaker, clearly done by the men themselves rather than being authorized by Vera.

“According to some, Toliman herself can be scarcely trusted.” The Interrogator pauses, then switches weight from one foot to another. “Vera, I need you to understand that I’m just trying to do my duty.”

“I know.” She keeps the easy smile on her face and glances at the soiled seat. “Didn’t have to make the poor man ruin the chair.” Then, almost abruptly, the Lord Captain turns on her heel and begins walking out of the chamber. “Come with me, if you may?” Vera doesn’t even look back and Heinrix hesitates for a moment, a tinniest of frowns furrowing his brows, but with a deep and hardly concealed sigh the man follows.

For a while there’s only footsteps echoing off the steel hull corridors, her’s a little lighter, the heels of Vera’s shoes making a slightly sharper sound compared to Heinrix’s own boots that make dull, heavy thuds on the metal flooring.

While walking, Heinrix thinks of the voidsman he was interrogating, the possible sabotage of the vox channels, the report that he will need to write and send out later tonight, not to mention another such report that Inquisitor Lord is expecting from his right-hand man.

But something catches his attention – the sounds coming from somewhere nearby. Voices, chatter, a gathering? And then Heinrix realizes he’s hearing the odes again, this time they are crystal clear, without the crackling that the ship’s crew made them have because of the old machine they played theirs on. The choir sings the words that the man soon begins to make out, High Gothic, of course, and his suspicion rises.

“Vera…” After being ignored, Heinrix hurries his steps and joins the Lord Captain at her side. She doesn’t seem perturbed even in the slightest. “Vera, where are we going?” The Interrogator glances at her face, trying to read her motives but all he sees is a relaxed face and a small, easy smile on her lips.

“Don’t fret, Heinrix, you’ll like it.”

He very much doubts so, but remains quiet and when the corridor leads to the door of the main hall, he can already guess perfectly what is awaiting for him.

Vera walks in first and gets cheerfully greeted by those gathered. She strolls towards the middle of the room, chatting up Abelard and Sister Argenta who are both in great spirits judging by their smiles, but Heinrix lingers by the door, observing. Tables are covered with food and refreshments, decorations appropriate for the occasion hang everywhere, the music is playing. A proper Sanguinalia celebration. Heinrix doesn’t remember when was the last time he saw such set up for the occasion.

Feeling mildly uncomfortable, the agent looks around, his mind still lingering on the voidsman and the possible sabotage and when he notices Toliman keeping to herself to the side from the main body of the party, Heinrix starts in her direction, but Vera appears right in front of him and stops him, forcing a drink into the man’s hand.

“What-“

“You need to relax too, Heinrix.” She says with confident calmness in her voice and Heinrix looks down at the glass in his hand, immediately smelling that’s it’s the warm wine with spices he’s holding. With a slight frown he tries to return the glass but Vera just rises an eyebrow, not moving a muscle to take it back and Heinrix quickly gives up.

“I’m concerned that you are not more alarmed by the information we spoke about.” Heinrix looks around and beyond Vera, clearly trying to find a surface to put the unwanted glass upon.

“Do you think you’re the only person to follow up sabotage leads?” With one step slightly to the side, Vera manages to catch Heinrix’s wandering gaze with her eyes and his jaw clenches slightly.

“I suppose not, but as the only currently present agent of the Golden Throne on your vessel, it is my duty-“

“To have some fun.” Vera interrupts, a smile on her face is a tad mischievous but Heinrix can’t be sure if he’s reading it correctly.

“Fun.” The man echoes the word like it’s a curse of an ancient civilization and Vera’s smile becomes just a fraction wider.

“Fun.” She nods and when Heinrix sighs, resigning to being stuck here for the rest of the evening, Vera dips a hand into her long overcoat and rummages in the pocket.

“I suppose… If Lord Captain insists that I stay and ensure her safety during these festivities, then I won’t deny her request.” Forming it as another duty to perform makes Heinrix feel more at ease, but it’s like Vera is not even listening.

Soon she takes out a palm-size dark blue box, in color of her heraldry, and weights it in her hand. Heinrix’s eyes curiously glance at the object then they rise to the woman’s face.

“And what is that?” The tone of voice he uses sounds stern, as if he’s expecting some sort of xenos artifact lunge out of the small container at him, or maybe at the Rogue Trader herself, and start slaughtering everyone. Color red would fit the Sanguinalia, Heinrix grimly thinks to himself.

“That… is something for you.” Vera weights the box in her palm again, watching Heinrix’s eyes follow the travel of the item and then she offers it to him.

“For me.” Not a question, not really, more like a suspicious disbelief on his part and the Interrogator delays moving to take it. “And what is it that you deemed necessary to give to me, Vera?”

Guarded, cautious and in no small amount suspicious, Heinrix almost forgets the glass in his hand while his mind reels with thousands of possibilities of what could be in the box. He doesn’t know Vera, not well at least, and despite her redeeming quality of making the right decisions, decisions that align with the Imperium’s values, Heinrix would be a fool to trust this woman just yet. Too many times he has seen people with perfect outward appearances become rotten to the core. Somehow the music in the background praising Sanguinius just makes the idea more eerie.

“Lord Captain!” Someone in the crowd tries to get Vera’s attention but she entirely ignores it, watching Heinrix’s face that betrays no emotion and waiting for him to take the gift that she carefully picked. Partially a joke, partially an attempt to make him feel more welcome aboard her vessel, the former soldier can barely keep her smile down, knowing that the ever-so-cautious Interrogator will accept her offering one way or another. Not many can refuse a rogue trader, especially when all she’s doing is giving a gift.

Slowly, just as Vera guessed, Heinrix rises one gloved hand and hesitates for a moment longer before taking the box and bringing it closer to himself. Another pause, his eyes dart from her to the item now resting between his fingers and with a tired sigh that expresses his capitulation, he thumbs open the box.

At first Heinrix just looks down, then rises an eyebrow and with a skeptical look affixes Vera’s eyes with his own.

“This has to be a joke.” He says and Vera finally breaks into a smile with a short, melodic chuckle.

“I know you haven’t been on my vessel for long yet, but I figured I will return the love token you have given me before.” There’s a mischievous spark in the woman’s eyes and Heinrix frowns, but she notices a faintest blush color Heinrix’s cheekbones with lightest shade of pink, barely noticeable.

“How many times I have to tell you it was no love token!” He hisses the words rather than saying them, ever aware of being part of the celebrating crowd.

“Of course, I meant the gift that the Inquisition so kindly presented to me.”

Vera keeps smiling and Heinrix sighs again, his desire to assert the truth and Lord Captain’s clear attempt at making him lose his composure, has the Interrogator stuck between annoyance and personal appreciation that she, at the very least, doesn’t seem to be scared of him, or unnerved by his presence. However, the breastpin that is in the box, one of the von Valancius crest, seems both humorous and mocking at the same time.

“You are aware I cannot wear this, correct?” Thumbing the lid down, Heinrix briefly glances around to see if anyone’s watching and thankfully he is assured that no one is, besides a serf or two who are ready to serve Vera at a moment’s notice. Then he pockets the box and quickly sips from the glass that he nearly put aside, but now feels grateful for, because suddenly the Interrogator’s mouth feels dry.

“I’m aware, but you can have it as a souvenir, if you wish.” Vera pauses, her smile becoming more relaxed and natural than the mischievous one she was adorning until now. “And if you remain on my vessel for longer, who knows, maybe you will need to bear both the Inquisition’s rosette and the crest of my dynasty.”

“That’s easy for you to say, but I will never-“

“You can just say thank you to me.” Vera prompts, cutting off Heinrix’s speech of insistence that she is sure would turn into a barrage of excuses she does not want or need to hear right now. Just seeing Heinrix’s expression, one of confusion and hardly disguised shy discomfort, is enough of a reward to the rogue trader already.

Heinrix clenches his jaw for a moment, then clears his throat and with his cheeks gaining one darker shade of pink, finally bows his head with utter grace and gratitude.

“Thank you, Vera.”

“See, it wasn’t that hard.” She smiles to him and when Heinrix looks at the woman again, he finally smiles too.

“It wasn’t, but you truly know how to put me on a spot and clearly enjoy doing so.” There’s something akin to friendly warmth in Interrogator’s eyes and it’s the first time Vera is sure that he showed such emotion. The fact alone makes her smile a little wider.

“I’m doing it for your benefit. Even you need to relax sometimes. And have fun.” With a gesture of her hand, the Lord Captain indicates those gathered for the celebration: her retinue and first officers, people she can call friends and those she enjoys working with. “You should learn from them.”

And Vera did come to look for him, so that she could fetch Heinrix for the occasion. At the thought the man’s shoulders lose some of the stiffness and he sighs, running a gloved hand over his hair.

“I suppose… it’s a small chance someone will try to assassinate you tonight.”

Vera knows that this is as close to admission that he’s if not happy to be here, then at least enjoying being included that she will get, and the rogue trader simply nods, tasting victory on her tongue.

“Very small indeed. And with all my officers here – someone attempting it would be a complete fool. So enjoy your time, relax, drink more wine, it’s wonderful.” She nods to Heinrix and he can’t help but smile a little more.

“I will try.” He nods in affirmation and Vera, hearing someone call for her attention again, nods to Heinrix.

“See you around, try not to slip away. I’ll notice.”

With that she departs, leaving the Interrogator standing in relative solitude, glass in hand and the little gift box feeling much heavier in his pocket than it actually is, reminding him of unexpected kindness that is probably a bigger gift than Vera realizes. He watches her walk up to a group of people, a serf quickly presenting Lord Captain with her own drink and as Heinrix lifts a glass to his lips, a servo skull zooms overhead, blasting the words of praises to Sanguinius.

“For the Imperium! For von Valancius! For Sanguinius and his noble sacrifice! For the Emperor!”

Heinrix chuckles to himself and drinks some of the sweet tasting wine, noticing that Cassia is moving through the crowd towards him, her smile infectious. He glances at Vera again and she catches his look, giving a small, almost unnoticeable nod and he returns it with one of his own, just before the Lady Navigator reaches him.

“Master van Calox, we haven’t finished our discussion about the book I mentioned to you before. Would you have the time?” She asks kindly and finally Heinrix looks away from Vera to Cassia with a nod, realizing that he is strangely starting to enjoy the festivities. Thanks to Vera and her kindness.

It’s good to be seen as human and not just an agent, feared and despised. Praise Sanguinius and the Emperor, it feels good to be welcome.

Praise indeed.

[cynicalclairvoyantcadaver]

Have you noticed how both Percy Jackson and Cardan are often characterised as dumb and Cardan weak because they love their significant others? I think this is some weird sort of misogyny because 'only weak men will love these women' when that's simply not true!

Tell me if I'm crazy lol

You're not crazy. This is a real phenomenon that needs to stop.

The PJO fandom tends to dumb down Percy a lot and hype up Annabeth, when in reality it is Percy who comes up with brilliant strategies and fights very well. It seems to me that people think Percy is foolish and/or impulsive because he doesn't communicate his plans very well.

It's frustrating to read canon PJO and then go to the fandom PJO and see how much Percy is dumbed down. Even canonically, Percy is put down a lot-unfortunately, I think this is because Rick is influenced by the fandom, which he should stop.

In fact, Annabeth would have died without Percy. LOTS of people would have died without Percy.

Thankfully, there are many people who DON'T dumb Percy down, like @cynthiav06, @hermesmyplatonicbeloved and other people-I forgot the blogs, tell me if you want to be tagged.

Check out the blogs I mentioned above if you want Real Percy, not dumb Percy who's not even real.

And this happens with Cardan too.

All right-I will say it again and again.

REAL CARDAN IS NOT A DUMB, HELPLESS UWU POOKIE!

HE IS POWERFUL. HE IS SMART. HE IS CUNNING AND CAN RUN AN ENTIRE KINGDOM WITHOUT JUDE OR MADOC.

I think most of the TFOTA fandom forget that Cardan did, in fact, run the kingdom without Jude or Madoc between and at the beginning of The Queen of Nothing!

And he's no helpless pookie. Does ANYONE remember the scene in TWK where the sea mermaids and their retinue come and read the poem that's a threat in disguise?

Does anyone remember how Cardan reacted? I DON'T THINK THEY DO!

He did NOT whimper or look to Jude for help. Jude DID NOT step up and deal with things directly.

Cardan dealt with it. He gave a clever response and effectively dealt with it while remaining powerful in the eyes of his subjects. Jude herself notes how powerful he looks in that scene.

And his meeting with Orlagh? He looks and feels regal and intimidating, like a true ruler. He saves his kingdom from war, literally threatens to encase Nicasia in a tree to keep Orlagh in check like a true boss, is prepared to fulfil his theat and calls up AN ENTIRE ISLAND. AN ENTIRE NEW ISLAND, LIKE THE THREE ISLES, EXCEPT NOW IT'S THE FOUR ISLES.

And he also comes up with a smart plan for Jude's safety, thus ensuring that she can come back when she wants to. It's not his fault that she interpreted it differently and chose to ignore the real meaning when she finally found it.

And in The Prisoner's Throne when he saves Jude from the knives? 100 percent amazing scene. He really has a heavy regal ruler aura there. My favorite scene of Cardan.

Yet fandoms need must girlbossify the females and woobify the males to make us see that the females are oh so powerful and the males need them for everything apparently.

The fandoms make the males characters that are entirely dependent on the females and don't exist without them. And I can't emphasize how frustrated this makes some of us.

Annabeth is smart on her own without Percy and vice versa.

Same goes for Jude and Cardan. They deal with threats in their own effective ways, though said ways are different-but those ways still work for both of them.

This is a reverse form of misogyny that is still sexism to both males and females and this really needs to stop. Whenever a couple get together, people tend to not see them as equals-either the male or the female is dominant, and if it's the female, she has to be oh so strong and muscular and dark and serious while the male has to be soft and submissive to her at all times, oh noooooooooo.

Not to say that muscular and masculine women CAN'T be dominant, but please remember that this is not always the case. Submissive partners are not always soft and feminine, and dominant partners don't always need to be commanding and aggressive.

Being equals in a relationship is a big charm, and that's why Percabeth worked so well for a lot of people. That's a huge part of their charm. To take that away would be to push what made Percabeth good into an abyss and watch it disintegrate.

TFOTA fandom members, please remember that Cardan is a person on his own without Jude. Same goes for Percy and Annabeth, PJO fandom members.

[lollytea]

Luz and Amity are into fantasy, Gus and Hunter love sci-fi. I feel very strongly about Willow also having a human realm pop culture nerd obsession and I like to think that it's superheros

[turtleblogatlast]

Unironically think that each of the bros (+April) don’t actually get how impressive their feats really are so they just do what they do and on the off chance someone comments on those feats they all react like:

[lesbian-sunshim]

support me on patreon or leave a tip

rare pairs for your consideration - starlight x discord

[moeblob]

Windy at my house + power flickering = no comm work = quick laptop doodle

[idolbound]

if anders is a terrorist, so is meredith send tweet.

[runefactorynonsense]

You all have no idea how much self control it takes for me NOT to turn this place into half a baseball blog every October

Gifs between every art piece

But I've never had a bot/spam problem with this fandom blog and I don't feel like inviting general blog problems 😂