#seems like some of you had the same idea before?? because it was out of stock for some time

[the-rhyme-witch]

Velarik had woke to the scent of the dusty velvet lining of his coffin disintegrating like ash in a breeze.

His first waking thought, after so many years asleep, was to blearily wonder what day it was but his second was that he needed to cull the human who had made the coffin so poorly.

It irked him.

He had picked a long break precisely because of these thoughts. All vampires were a little neurotic but Velarik was not a male to do things by halves. Indeed, that was his problem. He couldn't just half-arse a task, not him. If it was a thing worth doing, he had to hyperfocus. For Velarik, his obsession with humans had gotten so put of hand that a few weeks (months? Years?) ago, a few other vamps had rocked up at his castle and told him pointedly that he needed to take a time out.

Velarik had taken the advice. No one did "pointed" quite like vampires. So, it had been unfortunate that he was thinking about culling humans before he had even opened his coffin.

By the time he had assessed the castle, he had mentally jumped right back into farm mode. There were a few cracking bloodlines in the villages he managed. Before his slumber, he had been planning to try and introduce some outside bloodlines, perhaps build a bridge over the river....only one, though, he didn't want too many wild humans wandering into his lands and messing up his breeding scheme. He delighted in how easy humans could form mating pairs when it meant that ensuring the right male and female met in the right way at the right time but when it came to rogue outsiders, human mating habits could be truly annoying.

By the time he had found out the year, Velarik was beyond annoyed. He was incandescent with frustration.

Two and a half centuries! He'd overslept and managed to sleep through ten generations! His humans bloodlines would be a mess now. They'd have mated willy nilly, no regard to how well their blood tasted at all. It really was unacceptable. He had been planning to find a human and slake his thirst, maybe change his clothes, but he obviously had to jump straight back in. Perhaps his villages had isolated enough for the humans to have started inbreeding? He wasn't a fan of inbreeding but it might have secured some traits, at least. He was out of the castle with a notebook and a quill as quick as a bat out of hell. He would find his humans and take stock of the situation.

Except there were no humans to find. Velarik roamed what had been his territory, his lands, and uncovered the terrible truth. His human stock were not merely diluted into mediocrity. They were not there at all.

It had taken time to find another vampire to tell him the sorry tale. Vampires, it turned out, were not doing well. The human population had crashed and it was not just Velariks precious herds that were depleted. The humans just were not there anymore.

Fortunately for Velarik, an afterlifetime of obsession meant he understood the behavioural patterns of humans quite well. He located areas where lingering humans might be. Then, pun not intended, he staked them out. He learned where lingering humans remained.

Other species, he discovered, had the same idea.

There was a new predator, an invasive species. They, too, seemed focused on finding the humans. Velarik had watched them hunt down one human to kill, but they had then just left the body. Left it! The vampire understood culling but one did not cull an unstable population. And they had culled a woman! Madness! You could rebuild a bloodline even if you lost some males but lose human females and your herd would be a managerial nightmare. Velarik was enraged with the other species.

The sensible thing to do was to take out the new predators. Velarik could do that himself. He had no idea, however, how he would get his herds back to scratch, and once they were, where would he be? He needed humans to self sustain. They tasted better with a little fire in their blood. So he made a plan.

He would take samples from the remaining humans, take them to a village near to his castle.

He would assess their stock value and plan his vision for a new bloodline appropriately.

And he would teach them learned behaviours to deal with the new predator.

Honestly, it sounded increasingly delicious. Of course, it would definitely need him to give his plan his full attention. Immediately.

Velarik could not help but feel rather pleased indeed

After centuries of slumber, a vampire awakens to find humanity on the brink of extinction by an alien invasion. Furious that his “cattle” are being wiped out, he lead terrified survivors to arms . The aliens soon learn that humans aren’t their only enemies and this predator doesn’t play fair.

[c0n-fus3d]

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.

(Older!Powder x fem!reader)

I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!

Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same

༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻

You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.

Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.

You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.

And then there was Ekko.

You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.

But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.

You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.

Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.

Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.

So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.

You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.

"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.

You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.

"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."

You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.

If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.

You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.

You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.

But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.

Their kissing.

In front of your eyes.

Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.

Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.

She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.

She likes a boy. That boy.

Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.

You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 8

Summary: It's Thanksgiving, your first official holiday with Wanda. Someone stops by to create a little havoc.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

All the houses look the same, at least to him. The navigation system in his rental car isn’t any better.

Or maybe his sister gave him a fake address just to mess with him.

After a while, he decides it’s enough, pulling over when he sees someone jogging around the neighborhood.

“Excuse me”

“Hey” the woman says, stopping. Her smile is wide, and Pietro’s taken aback by how friendly she seems with a stranger.

“I’m looking for an address, can you help me out?”

“Sure”

“It’s Hill Drive 216”

“Right, well all you have to do is drive straight ahead for five blocks. Then turn right and then left” the woman says, leaning over the car window. As she’s giving directions, he can’t help but stare at her toned legs in full display.

“I really appreciate it. Maybe I can buy you some coffee to thank you?”

“Sure. See ya around” she says with a smirk, running in the opposite direction. Pietro didn’t get her number, but he figures she might know Wanda. So they’ll meet again.

In no time, he finds Wanda’s house. The woman is already sitting in the porch, as if she can feel her twin brother coming.

“This was supposed to be a surprise. You don’t look surprised”

“You asked my neighbor for my address. She called to know if you were a creep so she’d call the cops on you”

“What? She was so nice. And she’s very hot. You should have told me you had hot neighbors”

Wanda gives him a cryptic smile, but he doesn’t have time to ask the meaning behind it, as Tommy and Billy come running down the stairs.

“Uncle Pietro!”

“Bratan” he says, allowing the boys to tackle him to the ground. “You’re so big! What is your mom feeding you two?”

The boys laugh, pulling him inside so they can tell him all about school, soccer and their videogames.

A half hour later, there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it” he volunteers. To his surprise, the girl he spoke to earlier is on the other side. She’s now wearing jeans and a long sleeved sweater.

“Hey, Pietro”

“I didn’t… tell you my name”

But before he can connect the dots, Wanda walks past him, standing on her toes to kiss the woman.

“Hey, baby. Apparently you already met Pietro”

“Oh, yeah. Heard he was hoping to get a hot date out of some simple directions”

At that, his sister and her girlfriend let out a laugh, and he groans, hiding his face in his hands.

—

It was totally worth it, to see Pietro’s face as realization hit him. You were Wanda’s girlfriend.

He looks shocked, and embarrassed as you walk past him, Wanda’s hand in yours.

“At least the Maximoffs have consistency in their taste” you comment, making Wanda laugh and Pietro blushes.

“She never sent me a picture of you, ok? How was I to know?”

“I didn’t send it because I knew you’d fall for her and she is all mine” Wanda rolls her eyes, arms around your waist. You kiss her temple, smiling.

“Are you staying for Thanksgiving?” you ask, curious about his plans for the holidays.

“That’s the idea”

“You’re little buddy Rogers isn’t joining us?” you glare, so he knows you know what he tried to do.

“Oh, yeah. Heard you felt threatened by him. Still jealous, Y/N?”

“Jealous? I’m a Trauma surgeon, for goodness sake. What is your job, by the way? Snowboarding? Or do you call it snow? You know, like Ken in the Barbie movie”

“It gets me all the girl’s phone numbers” he arches an eyebrow.

“You certainly didn’t get mine”

“Stop it” Wanda laughs it off to ease the tension, standing between you two. “It’s Thanksgiving. The holidays. A time to forgive and enjoy”

“Fine,” he agrees. “Truce?”

“Not until you take the kids for a movie so we have an afternoon to ourselves” you say, because now that you’re back to work it’s been harder to get alone time with your girlfriend.

“Alright”

—

“It’s very important to me” Wanda says, stuttering lightly as you kiss down her neck.

“Of course, baby” you say, holding her hips as she tries to continue the conversation. She’s saying something against your lips, so you roll her nipple between your fingers, which makes her quiet for a few minutes.

Then, you’re between her legs when she starts talking again.

“He’s my brother, we’ve known each other our whole lives. I really want him to get to know you”

“Wanda” you sigh, defeated. You look up, with a smile at her disheveled state. “Can we not talk about your brother when I’m eating you out?”

“Sorry”

You kiss her thighs, going up to lie next to her.

“Or am I that bad at giving you head these days, baby?”

“It’s not that” she rushes to say, straddling your lap. Wanda pecks your lips to appease you, hands going up and down your arms. You squeeze her hips, encouraging her to continue. “But I mean it, I want you to get along”

“I was joking before. Mostly”

“Y/N” she whines and you smile.

“Ok, I just feel… the last time we almost broke up because he was trying to test me using Steve, right? I’m a bit butthurt about it, you know I’m proud and petty like that. And I’m not… I’ve never met someone’s family. I told you I’m not good with this relationship stuff”

“All you have to do is try” she says, leaning down to kiss you. “And absolutely nothing will break us apart, my love”

“Promise?”

“Swear” she says against your lips. You kiss her again, hands going down to her ass.

“Can I carry on now or would you like to talk about more family members?”

“Carry on” Wanda giggles when you flip her on her back, but those turn to moans pretty soon, feeling how your tongue works through her folds.

—

“Ok, guys, just like we practiced” Pietro says as he parks in the street, looking at the twins. They nod, staying inside the car while their uncle walks to the door.

“Hey, sestra… ah, seriously?!”

All he sees as he walks in is his sister’s head thrown back on the couch, and he can guess where you are.

“I thought you locked the door” Wanda reprimands you, but you just smirk, getting dressed. You make sure that only Pietro is within earshot when you smack Wanda’s ass, and she yelps.

The man is glaring when Wanda opens the door, her hair a mess and your shirt all wrinkled.

“Where are the kids? Why are they waiting in the car?”

In that moment, the twins open the car door, and you can see they are carrying a small, white dog. You want to cackle, because Pietro is so dead. But you keep a neutral expression, staying behind Wanda.

“You idiot” Wanda says, followed by a string of curses in Sokovian. You’ve never seen her this upset and it’s kinda hot.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go back to my place and bathe this little dude”

“No, please don’t leave me alone with her” Pietro pleads as Wanda pulls him by the ear.

“Sorry, I don’t want to be a witness to whatever it is she’ll do to you” you give him finger guns, hurrying back to take the kids to your place. It’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t appreciate you using her bathtub to take care of the pup.

“So, wanna tell me what happened?” you say once you’re in the bathroom.

“Well, we found Sparky outside the cinema. He was looking for food in the garbage and was so sad and alone”

“Do you think Mom will let us keep him?” Tommy says.

“Let’s take him to the vet tomorrow. Maybe he escaped home and his owners are looking for him”

The boys remain silent as you rinse the soap from Sparky’s fur. Of course, he shakes as soon as you’re done, drops of water flying everywhere. Billy and Tommy laugh, which makes you smile.

They had never brought up the subject of pets, but you have a feeling that it’s because Wanda had told them that the answer was going to be no, no matter what.

You use an old t-shirt and your blow dryer to get him all fluffy. He is a cute dog, that’s for sure.

“Come on, let’s get back home” you tell the kids, letting Tommy carry Sparky.

Pietro is in the porch, hand on his cheek as he sulks around the stairs. His ear is so red from all the pulling that Wanda did and you almost want to laugh.

“She won’t talk to me” he mumbles like a grumpy teenager.

“Jeez, I wonder why”

You walk inside, going straight to Wanda’s room. Still, you knock and let her know it’s you.

“Hey, love. Woah” as soon as you open the door she’s hugging you, and you don’t know if her tears are from anger or sadness. “I’m here, what’s wrong?”

“Pietro is so… immature! Why would he think it’s a good idea to bring a dog into my home? He is always like this. Now, I’ll have to tell the kids we can’t keep him and they will hate me”

“Wanda, they won’t hate you. Breathe for me” you run your hands up and down her back. “Here’s what we’ll do. Tomorrow I will drive with the kids to the vet, they’ll check for a microchip or anything else that tells us if he has a family”

“They always wanted a pet and I just couldn’t do it, it was too much work for one person and I…”

“And you are not alone anymore, ok? You have me. And as it happens, my family’s always had dogs. Don’t stress, leave it to me” you say, kissing her temple.

“Thank you. I’m staying here. Can you make sure the kids have dinner?”

“Of course, baby”

You make a couple of sandwiches and let the kids eat in the living room, while Sparky walks around and smells everything. It’s a good sign that he’s not peeing in every surface of the house.

Once the kids have dinner, you take the dog to the backyard, noticing the wooden fence needs some work, or Sparky will be able to escape.

Another thing on your list.

“Is Mom mad at us?” Billy asks when you’re upstairs, tucking them in. Sparky is in the corner, sleeping between Tommy’s shoes.

“Not at all, kiddo. She’s just not sure we can take care of Sparky. Dogs can be a lot of work, ya know?”

“Did you have dogs?” Tommy says from his bed and you nod.

“Yeah, we had all kinds of dogs. Big ones, small like Sparky. You have to walk them, feed them, take them to the doctor…”

“Maybe it is a lot of work” Billy says, dropping his shoulders.

“Hey, no worries, we will figure it out. Just make sure you’re nice to your mom. She just wants the best for everyone. Rest now. And Sparky doesn’t sleep on anyone’s bed, got it?”

The kids giggle at that, and you roll your eyes, knowing they’ll probably break that rule.

—

“We’re home” you announce.

“How did it go?” Wanda says, while Pietro is in the living room, pretending to read.

“No microchip. But he did get blood work and everything seems fine, we also got him dewormed and he can start with vaccination in two weeks”

“You know a lot about dogs” Pietro says, but shuts his mouth the minute Wanda turns to glare.

“So, yeah. We could call a shelter and ask if they can take him”

“But he would be in one of those cages, alone” Wanda says, sounding sad.

“I guess”

“Let’s just keep him until we figure something out” she decides, looking as the kids play with the dog in the front yard.

“Yeah, ok. We got him some kibble, plates, a new leash and a bed, so he’s all set. I’ll just have to fix the fence”

“Oh? Will you wear your tool belt?” she says, biting her lip. Pietro gags from his place in the couch. Wanda turns to scold him. “Keep it up and you’re staying in a hotel”

“Bossy. And mean. I love it” you say, pulling her closer. You share a quick, but passionate kiss.

“I could fix the fence” Pietro offers.

“You don’t even know how to drive a nail,” Wanda argues.

“I’m trying to do something nice, sestra”

“You’ve done enough”

They begin to argue like a couple of teenagers so you have to step between them, raising your hands.

“Enough. Pietro can help me when I fix the fence. We all win. Isn’t that great? Two of your favorite people working together” you say.

“Only one” Wanda says and Pietro is ready to fight when you snap your fingers.

“To your corner, Pietro” you warn him, dragging Wanda to the kitchen. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Mmm?” she melts when you rub that spot in her lower back that always relaxes her.

“I don’t think Pietro meant to do any harm with this. At most, he thought you’d end up loving Sparky more than me” Wanda laughs, and she leans against you. “He’s visiting and you’re always talking about how much you miss him, so try to forgive him”

“You’re right”

“You sound surprised,” you joke, kissing her softly. “I have work. I’ll be back tomorrow, ok?”

“Don’t leave. I know nothing about dogs” she pleads.

“I’m always one call away, love of my life” you promise.

—

Five missed calls. You sigh when you leave the OR, though it is from an unknown number.

Before you can return the call or contact Wanda to make sure she’s fine, Darcy finds you, dragging you by the hand without any explanation.

“Does this belong to you?” she says, pulling the curtain to reveal Pietro, holding an ice pack against his right hand.

“It belongs to my girlfriend”

“It? Seriously?” he complains, but Darcy ignores him.

“Came in with hammered fingers and cries every time I try to examine him”

“I will take a look. Thanks, pal” you force him to remove the ice pack, ignoring his protests. “What happened?”

“I tried to fix the fence”

“Mhm” you bend his fingers and move them around, trying to check if there’s a fracture. He complains and tries to jank his hand back, but you don’t let him.

“Can’t you take some X-Rays?”

Now, where’s the fun in that?

“Honestly, I think you’ll just have some swelling and pain. Let’s put a bandage in those three fingers and make sure you don’t move them too much”

“At least Wanda’s less mad at me”

You smile.

“Glad to hear it. Did she drive you here?”

“No, I wasn't in the mood to be lectured. I just told her I needed something from the hardware store and came straight to the ER”

You nod, writing a prescription for him. Once you’re done, you take the hand, bandaging the three fingers together.

“You know, I just worry” he interrupts the silence.

“About what?”

“Well, has she ever told you about the twins’ father?”

You glance back at him, arching an eyebrow.

“No, and I respect that. If she ever feels like telling me, I’m sure she will. So I’d appreciate it if we keep it at that, Pietro”

“I’ll just say, he was the biggest asshole. And it almost destroyed her. I promised myself no one would hurt her again”

You nod, still working in silence. Of course, the shovel talk. After the stunt he pulled with Rogers, this is nothing, really. Going along and nodding a few times might just do the trick.

“To be fair, I never liked him. You’re fine, I guess”

“I can live with being just fine in the eyes of Frosty the snowman” you mutter, finishing the bandaging and giving him some pills. “Now go back home and let me take care of the fence when I’m there”

An ambulance parks right outside of the ER and you excuse yourself. You don’t notice Pietro hanging back, watching as you help the paramedics move a woman from their gurney to a hospital bed.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re out of the OR and see a text from Wanda that you remember the incident.

Wanda: Thank you for checking Pietro.

Y/N: Happy to help the evil twin, love.

Wanda: What would that make me? The good twin?

Y/N: The hot, beautiful, angel twin.

The sound of your pager snaps you back to reality, which means the last hours of your shift will be busy.

—

“I should go and help”

“Please, don’t”

Wanda and Pietro are sitting in the backyard’s deck, watching as you fix the fence.

“Did you get Sparky as a test? To see how she’d react?”

“That is actually a great idea but no” Pietro laughs, stretching his arms. “I can’t believe you don’t remember”

“Remember what?”

“We were at school, back in Sokovia when we were five or six. The teacher asked us to draw our pet, but we didn’t have one so…”

“So you drew a dragon and said you wanted one for our birthday” Wanda suddenly remembers, frowning. “But what did I draw?”

“A white dog, with a very pink nose and fuzzy hair. And when we were at the theater, I saw him and thought, that’s my sister’s dog”

Wanda laughs, trying not to cry at her brother’s antics, wiping the corner of her eyes before she gets emotional. She reaches for his hand and he squeezes it, smiling.

“Why haven’t you told her about how you had the twins?” Pietro asks after a while, his voice soft.

“Because… I’m afraid she’ll see me differently. And I don’t know if it’s worth it, dwelling in the past. It’s done and nothing can change it”

“It’s not about dwelling in the past, it’s about sharing everything that makes you who you are. And that’s a big part of it” Pietro insists, standing up when the boys show up with Sparky. “We’re going to the park. See you for dinner”

Wanda stays on the deck, watching as you finish replacing the last wooden panel.

“I am so ready for a shower and a nap” you sigh, plopping down next to her. “At least Sparky can be out safely now”

“How can I pay for your very hard work?” Wanda says, and your hand squeezes her thigh.

“I can think of a few ways, Mrs. Maximoff. But when I’m not all sweaty”

“You’ll have to leave the toolbelt on, though” she says, making you laugh as you kiss the spot behind her ear.

You enjoy the breeze as you sit together on the deck, drinking a beer while Wanda looks out her yard.

“If I told you something, would you promise not to judge me?”

“I would never, my love” you say, putting a strand of hair behind her ear gently. “What is it?”

“It’s about the twins”

“Uh. Did Pietro put you up for this?” you click your tongue. “You don’t have to tell me anything; whatever the situation is, I imagine it’s not easy”

“I think… It would help explain why he’s so protective of me. And I want you to know, I do”

“Alright, then. I’m listening”

It takes her a moment to gather her thoughts, looking at her clasped hands.

“We met in college” she begins. “I was 20 and he was on an exchange program. Came from Oxford University, I think. We were in different faculties but somehow crossed paths at a party and got talking. It was the first time I was in love”

“He was elegant and acted like a gentleman, and said funny things without being crass. He acted differently than the rest of guys I ever tried to date. So we were together the whole semester, until winter break came. I was considering inviting him over to spend Christmas with us when he got an unexpected visit from his fiance”

You breathe deeply, knowing where this is going. Wanda still won’t look at you, and she takes a moment to continue.

“Uhm. So, yeah. The minute I saw them together I wanted to scream, but all I could do was hide. I felt like such an idiot. He didn’t even try to find me and apologize. And for a few weeks I was… sick. I threw up every morning, and felt tired. But I thought it was stress”

“Wanda, I’m so sorry” you say, pulling her close and kissing her temple. She leans against you, letting your touch ground her. Wanda’s hand goes to hold your own, and you squeeze it, trying to show your support.

“When I realized what it was, I tried talking to him. I thought he at least deserved to know. But he just wanted to give me some money to deal with it, in his words”

Those words make your heart ache, but you grit your teeth. You admire Pietro’s self control more than ever.

“I’m gonna need you to give me a name so I can find him and kill him”

“I let that go, for my sake. I had two babies to care for. No matter how it happened, I knew I always wanted them. So I told my parents everything and then Pietro, well…”

“He went crazy, I can imagine. Can’t really blame him”

“So, now you know it all. I still have things to figure out, because sometimes the kids ask me about their father and I don’t know how to tell them he never cared about us” she sighs, leaning against you.

“We’ll figure it out together, when the time comes” you promise, kissing her cheek. “And you don’t have to be afraid of me judging you, you did nothing wrong, Wands. I’m so sorry you had to go through that”

“I just thought… I wanted you to know”

“Did you ever see him again? I mean, does he even know their names?”

“No, and I hope it stays that way. If he comes back, I don’t want him anywhere near Tommy and Billy” her voice shakes with emotion, and a bit of her accent comes back.

“That’s ok. We won’t let it happen” you promise, kissing her temple.

“I love you”

“I love you too. And our boys”

“And our dog” she says, which makes you look back at her. She smiles at your shocked expression. “We’re keeping Sparky. No further comment”

“Yes, Ma’am”

—

The twins couldn’t believe it when Wanda told them they could keep Sparky. Pietro smiled as the kids hugged their mother, promising to always take care of him.

“You’re the best mom ever!” Tommy says, running around the living room.

“You’re welcome” Pietro mocks as he walks past her, and she elbows him.

You spend the evening watching a movie in the living room, Sparky sitting between both boys.

The 36 hour shift, coupled with the work on the backyard leaves you exhausted, so 15 minutes into the movie you begin to fall asleep.

“Come on, sweetheart” Wanda says when your head keeps loling to the side. “You need to rest”

“No, but I wanna know what happens with Big Welder” you mumble. Wanda stands up, kissing your forehead and pulling you all the way to the stairs. After brushing your teeth and almost sleeping while standing up, you plop down in bed, taking everything off and deciding to sleep in nothing but your underwear.

“Very tempting” Wanda comments when she sees you.

“I thought you’d be watching the movie” you stretch, appreciating how Wanda’s eyes linger on your breasts.

“Uh, they started playing video games. So that was my cue to go” she crawls into bed with you, not ready to go to sleep but wanting to share some alone time. “Before I forget, who are you inviting for Thanksgiving?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, dinner. We’re having turkey, the Barton’s are stopping by…. You do know it’s this Thursday, right?”

“I haven’t had a Thanksgiving dinner in like 15 years”

“You’re kidding” Wanda says, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I started volunteering when I was 16 to avoid being home. And you know I rarely went back for that stuff. I think the most I’ve done is eat pizza with Darcy while we’re working”

“Well, Darcy should come too! Have her over, I only get to see her at the hospital”

“You sure?” you say, smiling nervously. All you know about holidays in the last decade has been the chaos of a hospital.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be great, you’ll love it” she promises, kissing you.

—

Chaos isn’t exclusive to the ER, it seems. You’ve had a busy morning, mowing the lawn, cleaning the deck and getting ready to set a large table for everyone who’s joining. To your annoyance, Pietro is using his bruised hand as an excuse to not help.

“You’re doing great” he gives you a thumbs up and you want to throw the broom straight to his head.

“You could help your sister in the kitchen” you say, wiping the sweat from your forehead and coming to look over his shoulder. “Tinder? Seriously?”

“Yeah, check this out” he says, showing you some of the matches he’s had.

“Oh, wow” you whistle at a picture of a blonde woman in a bikini. You’re about to comment something else when you hear a cough behind you. Of course, Wanda is staring, her signature head tilt letting you know you’re in danger.

“I mean, oh, wow, what a horrible, unattractive person. Blegh. So not my type” you say, pretending to gag.

“I’m only letting it slide because it’s Thanksgiving” she warns and you nod.

“Yes, love. I’m sorry”

Pietro snorts and you turn to slap the back of his head.

“Sestra, are you gonna let her do that to your brother?”

“Yes” Wanda says, leaning forward to snatch his phone. “Come help me in the kitchen. Now”

“You know, I’m twelve minutes older” he says as they go back inside.

Once you’re done with mowing and picking up the dry leaves, you set a table across the backyard and some lights for extra decoration. Hoping the kids won’t look, you set up a trampoline you know they’ve been asking for.

“Alright, come supervise” you ask Wanda, and for some reason the entire Maximoff entourage follows behind.

“It looks amazing!” she says, inspecting the lights you installed. “I love these”

“I know. I may have stalked your Pinterest board, @witchy16”

“Billy, look!” Tommy points at the trampoline, running to try it out, his brother close behind.

“Be careful” Wanda warns. “I’m not sure I love that”

“They can use it only when I’m around” you promise, turning to her. “That way I can get more alone time with my girl”

Wanda laughs, but the sound is drowned out by your lips on hers, and your hands travel south to squeeze her ass.

“I’m right here!” Pietro complains, which makes you smirk.

“I didn’t see you, sorry” Wanda says.

“I did” you smile, earning a slap on the shoulder from your girlfriend. Something pings in the kitchen, so she excuses herself.

“You know, we usually save the presents for last”

“What presents? This isn’t Christmas” you say.

“People give each other presents during Thanksgiving too. Isn’t it obvious? How do you give thanks to someone? You get them something” he insists, which makes you doubt yourself. Pietro leaves to join the twins on the trampoline.

Maybe he’s right. What if Wanda got you something and after everything she’s done to make sure you enjoy this holiday, you have nothing to give back.

Fuck.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you done in the backyard?” Wanda says when you walk in.

“I… yeah. Do you want me to do anything else?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just letting everything in the oven for now. Come sit” 

“Actually… I need to go check something” you lie, feeling awful about it. But you have to get her a present.

“At the hospital?”

“Yes. I won’t take long, I promise” you say when she looks disappointed. “I’ll be back in an hour and I’ll help with whatever’s missing” 

“I just want us to spend time together,” she smiles, taking your hands. You lean forward, kissing her. “Oh, and call Darcy, I just want to confirm she’s coming”

“Yes, my love” 

Pretending to be super calm, you walk to your car. You only let panic take over when you’re driving around, finding the traffic to be awful. Seems like people always leave everything for the last minute, and you hate yourself for not thinking about this sooner.

You can’t let Wanda down.

Darcy’s the only person who can help out, so you call her while you try to find a place to park.

“Hello”

“Hey. Wanda wanted to confirm you’re coming to dinner”

“I am, only for the amazing food. But the hospital will page me if there’s an emergency so don’t expect me to stay for long”

“Got it. By the way, did uh, your family happen to give each other presents during Thanksgiving?”

“No, they only get drunk and yell at each other. Why? Do I have to bring a present? Because then I’m out”

“No, that was just me being stupid, never mind. See you at seven”

You hang up, leaving the car to walk around the shops. Most of them are closed, because of course, it’s a holiday. The only places still working are supermarkets. So, what? Will you have to get your perfect girlfriend toilet paper and say “happy holidays”?

After walking down several blocks, you finally find a jewelry store open. 

“Welcome. How can I help you?” a woman says.

“Hi. I can’t believe you’re open at this time of day” you comment, looking around the store. Wanda never really wears bracelets, or earrings. Necklaces, yes. Though they’re always very discreet. 

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of people who have to buy a peace offering for the holidays” 

“Huh”

“Or last minute engagements” 

“Oh. That’s definitely not the case” you smile, and something behind the woman catches your eye. “That’s a nice pearl necklace”

The woman puts on her sales hat, telling you every detail about the very elegant, very real pearls and how it is an absolute must for any woman. It honestly doesn’t take a lot of convincing. It’s beautiful and you remember how Wanda mentioned she always wanted one, but considered it a bit of a silly expense with two kids and no real use for it.

“I’ll take it” 

“You don’t want to look at the price?”

“I imagine it’s those four figures there”

“Yes”

“Yeah. That’s fine. I’m a trauma surgeon” you explain with a smile, feeling a little smug. 

“She’s a lucky lady”

You don’t really agree, considering this is very last minute. For the twins, you decide to take some of the Christmas presents you started to buy for them and store at your house.

And as much as Pietro annoys you, you’ll have to get him something too. 

Looking at the time, you decide to keep shopping for a bit longer, hoping no one notices if you’re gone too long. 

Wanda definitely notices. By the time you come back home, you’re sneaking around with a few boxes but she comes out of the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” 

Her tone makes you jump, and you look at her with wide eyes.

“I…”

“Doesn’t matter. I need you to go to the supermarket and get me some boxes of mac and cheese for all the kids. And a few bottles of wine, in case Laura and Clint stay longer” 

“Ok” you say, wishing she had called you since you were around the supermarket not long ago. 

By the time you finish all her errands, it’s four and you’ll only have an hour or two to rest. 

“Hey, here’s everything you asked for” you greet with a smile, hoping Wanda is less stressed now.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I think the Bartons aren’t even staying for dinner so I made you go for no reason, I’m sorry”

“It’s ok” you say, putting your arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

“I want this to be perfect. For you to know that having a family is nice so you won’t…” she trails off, trying not to look at you.

“So I won’t, what?”

“So you won’t leave. It’s silly”

“Hey, I’d never leave… sorry” you grumble, looking at your phone and ignoring the call.

“If you need to pick up...”

“It’s just my landlord asking about the lease renewal” you roll your eyes which makes her laugh. “As I was saying, I don’t need a perfect Thanksgiving as a reason to stay. I love you. That’s it”

“I love you too” she smiles, leaning forward to kiss you. With your hands on her cheeks, you deepen the kiss, enjoying how she sighs against your lips when your tongue darts out. Then, your hands travel south to squeeze her ass, encouraging her to put her legs around your waist. 

“Hey, can we…? Ugh, not again” Pietro says, covering his eyes. “We’re thirsty”

Without dropping Wanda, you go through the stuff in the fridge and hand him some drinks.

“We’ll be upstairs, don’t go up in… 20 minutes” you say, making Wanda giggle.

“You guys are gross,” Pietro complains, crashing against the table as he keeps his eyes closed.

“Come on, let’s make those 20 minutes count” you say, carrying Wanda to the bedroom.

—

The Bartons arrive at 7, just like Wanda told them to. Sparky is the main attraction, as all the kids coo and aw at the funky little dog that loves all the attention.

“Pietro, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you” Laura says.

“Only good things, I hope”

“That must have been a short conversation” you laugh at your own joke, while Pietro glares.

The kids run around the yard as Laura and Wanda chat, Clint handing over Nathaniel to you while Pietro talks about his job.

Darcy shows up a little later, and you make your rounds, introducing her to everyone that hasn’t met her yet. 

“You again” she says when her eyes land on Pietro. 

“What? You’ve heard a lot about me too?” 

“Yeah, mostly bad shit”

“Bad word” all the kids turn to point at her, and she facepalms.

“Fuck”

“Two bad words!” Cooper says. Laura covers Lila’s ears, though she is laughing. You clasp your hands over Darcy‘s mouth because you know she can keep going forever.

“Kids, have you tried going on our brand new trampoline? You can take Sparky with you” that gets them distracted enough, running away to the backyard. “There. Don’t worry, it took me a minute to get used to the no swearing”

“This is why I don’t hang out at PG-13 events. Anyways, I brought some stuff to make pumpkin cocktails and guacamole. Help yourselves” Darcy says, holding a bag of tortilla chips.

“Nobody eats guacamole at Thanksgiving” Pietro says. 

“They do if they’re Mexican. We can pretend. I’ll call you Pedro all night long” Darcy says just to annoy him. “Plus, this is all I can make” 

“Are all surgeons bad cooks?” Wanda teases, and you’re dumb enough to answer honestly.

“Not all! Carol is actually a great… huh” you scratch the back of your neck at Wanda’s glare. 

“Someone’s in trouble,” Pietro guesses.

“Yeah” Wanda tilts her head, making you smile weakly. 

“I’m making cocktails” Darcy interrupts everyone, dragging you to the kitchen. For a while, you talk about some patients that arrived during the day, but it was still a strangely calm shift at the hospital. It was usually busy during dinner or after that some people got injured, while driving back home. 

“Take this to Wanda, that will make her forget that Carol comment” 

Approaching slowly, you put the drink in front of your girlfriend, who takes a sip and then coughs.

“Wow, what is this?” she laughs, the alcohol strong enough to knock her off her feet.

“A fire hazard” Clint comments, able to smell it across the table. Still, Wanda sips on the drink and nods, enjoying the taste.

“Go easy, Miss Maximoff” you joke, which makes her smile.

“I still remember why I’m mad at you”

“Then forget what I said, take these like tequila shots”

“Carol is an ex,” Pietro says, putting together the information. 

“As in Carol Danvers? Nice” Clint comments, earning a slap on the arm by Laura.

“Thread carefully” 

“Ah, jeez. Look what you made me do” Clint laughs, looking at you.

“Pumpkin cocktail for Laura coming right up”

“I’ll bring it, I have to check the turkey” Wanda says, slightly slurring her words. 

“If you go anywhere near the oven, leave that thing here” Clint points out, not wanting to put out fires on his day off.

You take Wanda’s place, sipping casually on the rest of her drink. Everyone stares as you don’t even make a face to the amount of alcohol on it.

“We’ve known each other since college” you explain. ”So this is just like drinking water”

While you keep chatting in the backyard, Darcy and Wanda are both in the kitchen, your friend making herself a drink while Wanda turns off the oven to get the turkey ready.

“Want another cocktail?” she says, pushing a glass towards Wanda. The woman grabs it, sipping again. The sweet taste of the pumpkin hides a bit of the alcohol, so the punch isn’t hitting quite yet. 

“Listen, I know your brother already gave my friend the shovel talk” 

“Really? When?” Wanda says, a little too loudly. 

”Back in the hospital. And I had to hold off on mine because you were always in my territory and I didn’t want to seem like a bully. However, now is the time to tell you… she’s my best friend, has been since college. Life hasn’t been particularly fair and her mother certainly didn’t help, though I’m sure she’s made it seem like no big deal, but Y/N really does deserve someone nice and kind. So don’t break her heart. Under any circumstance”

“I’m not planning to, Daisy” Wanda nods her head, her thoughts a little fuzzy.

“Nobody plans to hurt someone they love. And I’m Darcy”

“I’m a little drunk” Wanda clicks her tongue, leaning on Darcy as they go back to the backyard. 

“Everything ok, love?” you say when Wanda comes back, and to your surprise, she sits on your lap instead of a chair.

“These things are strong. A couple more and I’ll consider doing that thing you wanted to try in bed”

“Oh, dear God” you blush, while Clint, Laura and Darcy whistle. Pietro covers his ears, gagging. “No more cocktails for you… at least with the kids around”

The Bartons stay a little while longer, eating and drinking until Lila and Cooper approach Clint.

“Can we get a dog?”

“That’s our cue to go” he sighs, standing up.

“Please, we want one!” Lila insists, and you laugh at Clint’s defeated expression.

“We’ll see” he compromises. “Come on, we gotta stop by at your grandparents”

They leave, thanking you for the food and you promise to take the twins and Sparky to play at the farm very soon.

Pietro finally gets off his ass to bring the turkey, which looks absolutely delicious. He carves it, saving the biggest piece for his sister.

“I love Thanksgiving” you say, enjoying what’s probably the best meal you’ve ever had.

“Me too” Darcy agrees, getting seconds and thirds of everything. Truth be told, you never get to sit around and eat as much as you like so this is a total luxury for a workaholic doctor.

As you’re finishing up, Wanda takes out a pecan pie. 

“I’m in heaven” Darcy comments upon the first bite.

On the other hand, you cannot hold back a moan, which makes Wanda bite her lip, one of her hands going to squeeze your thigh. 

“Hey, quick question, will you marry me?” Darcy says to Wanda and you elbow her.

“Right in front of my pecan pie?”

“I’m just saying, if you don’t, I will”

“She better get a ring then” Wanda says, smiling at you. Your mind goes back to the woman at the shop, telling you about those last minute engagements.

Surprisingly, Pietro is the one that changes the subject.

“You know what I always find funny? How the flavor makes my throat all tingly. And my tongue numb”

Everyone looks at him in silence, until Darcy speaks.

“That’s an allergic reaction”

“What? No” Pietro dismisses her point.

“It is” you insist, which earns another hand gesture from the man. “Oh, you’re right, what do we know? We only went to medical school”

“You’re so dumb” Wanda says, laughing and holding her sides. “You’ve been allergic our whole lives? Oh, my God!”

“Very funny, sestra. But now you can’t make this anymore”

“Hey, eat a granola bar or something” Darcy snaps, getting a second slice. “Why should we pay the price for your weakness?”

“Let’s finish the pie so he doesn’t get an allergy” you tease.

Darcy and you keep eating while Pietro is instructed to clean up the table and load the dishwasher. As the celebration ends, Darcy goes back home with tons of leftovers.

“I’ll walk you out ” you say, accompanying your friend. As you’re chatting, your phone rings again.

“Your mother?” Darcy guesses when you ignore the call. You click your tongue, putting the phone back in your pocket. “Let me guess, she’s calling for the usual wish you were here bullshit while never calling in advance”

“Yeah, that’s our thing. This year I’m not in the mood to do it, though”

“Well, she’ll hopefully get the hint” Darcy’s pager goes off and she sighs. “There it is”

“Want me to tag along?”

“It’s fine. I’ll call if it gets too crazy. Bye, pal”

You wave as she drives away, walking back with Sparky. For a second, you feel guilty and think about calling your mother back, but this day has been perfect and you don’t want to ruin it.

“Hey, kiddos, did you have fun?” you ruffle Tommy’s hair when you get home, getting Sparky his dinner.

“Yeah, it was awesome!”

“Well, you better check your rooms because I got you a little present”

As usual, Tommy is faster, but Billy is right behind him, both of them shouting excitedly.

“What is all that noise?” Wanda says, alarmed.

“Just following tradition” you explain with a smile, waiting for the kids to open their presents.

“What tradition?” Wanda says, looking confused.

“Thanksgiving presents”

Then you hear it. Pietro snorts a laughter from his spot in the kitchen.

Motherfucker.

“I’m gonna kill you, Evil Twin” you say, going straight to where he’s standing. Pietro runs around the kitchen island, putting distance between you two.

“Stop it, you two!” Wanda says, hands on her hips.

“Sorry, love. But he’s got it coming” you throw a towel his way, and take advantage of the distraction to jump over the counter, falling on top of him.

“Cool!” Billy says, watching as you have Pietro in a headlock.

“How are you so strong?” he complains, unable to free himself.

“I’m in the ER, do you really think I don’t have to deal with drunk assholes?”

“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling you by the belt loop of your pants until you’re off balance. “Explain” she asks standing between you two.

“He told me you gave each other presents during Thanksgiving!”

“We love ours!” Tommy says, showing the stands for their controls. You smile, fixing your shirt.

“Well, you’re the only ones getting one. Your uncle is definitely not”

“You got me something?”

“Yes, and it was a damn good present” you smile, knowing the curiosity will drive him crazy.

“Come on, can I have it?”

“No” Wanda and you say at the same time.

You make fun of him, and then Wanda tilts her head.

“Did you get me something?”

“Of course I did” you pat the back of your jeans, finding the necklace box there. “Here”

Wanda’s eyes widen as soon as she opens it, her hand covering her mouth.

“What? You don’t like it? I can return it. Or maybe I can’t. But you don’t have to wear it” you rant, afraid that it’s too much for a tradition that isn’t even real.

“Sweetheart, stop” she says, smiling. “I-I love it. Thank you”

“Well, I love you” you lean forward, letting her kiss you. Billy and Tommy protest at the contact, something that they have unfortunately picked up from their uncle.

“Can I have my present? Please?” Pietro says.

“No, wait until Christmas” you say.

“And for this little joke you’re gonna clean the kitchen” Wanda says, pointing at all the dirty pots and pans.

“My joke got you a pearl necklace”

“Chop, chop, Pietro” she ignores him, pushing the kids upstairs so they can get ready for bed. “You two stink, go and take a shower”

“Where do you want me, Bossypants?” you joke, standing next to her.

“Mhm” she smiles, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “You like it when I’m bossy?”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Then go shower too. And stay in bed. You were running around all day”

“Wanna join me in the shower?”

“I’ll help Pietro clean. Or we’ll never hear the end of it” she says, smiling when you pull her close, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t be long”

By the time Wanda comes up, you’re asleep, wearing nothing but shorts and a t-shirt.

The gentleness of her lips against your neck wakes you up with a shudder, and you bring your hand to rub up and down her back.

“Are you done with cleaning?” you say, trying not to yawn. Wanda’s teeth, marking the spot between your shoulder and neck jolt you awake. “Baby?”

“You always give me so much. I want to thank you” she says, moving down your lap. You lean on your elbows, unsure if you’re understanding what she’s saying.

“Wanda?” you’re about to ask something else, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel her rubbing her nose against your clit through your shorts. “I… uh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong” you say, having trouble breathing when she pulls down your shorts, revealing you’re not wearing any underwear.

“Perfect” Wanda smiles, leaning down. You can tell she’s hovering, teasing you with anticipation. Even when she kisses the inside of your thighs, it feels heavenly.

You make the mistake of looking down, and Wanda’s eyes meet yours. She has a predatory smirk on her face, one you’ve never seen before. She knows how much you want this, she can see it, smell it. You’re about to plead for her to continue when she goes down, tongue licking a strip down your center.

“Fuck” you say, your legs instantly going to close around her head. You’re so sensitive and she’s sucking on your clit with such abandonment. Wanda lets you ride her face, enjoying the feeling of your juices coating every inch of her chin.

When you’re close to coming, she manages to pull free of your hold, pushing her hair back. Her chest is heaving, face glistening with your arousal.

“Wha-“ she doesn’t let you finish, pulling down her own shorts, and crawling on top of you.

“I want you to come with me” she sighs against your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. Her pussy comes in contact with yours, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her wetness.

“Be quiet for me” she hisses, though there’s certain tenderness in her voice. Her palm covers your mouth, and Wanda only moves when you nod, pushing her hips against yours.

“Wanda” you plead, not knowing exactly what you’re after. Even though she’s also getting pleasure out of this, she’s still very much in control, keeping you steady as she rocks her hips, setting the pace.

As your breathing quickens, Wanda picks up the pace, and your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her closer until she drops her body on top of yours, moving and panting next to your ear.

“I’m close” you breathe, and the way she bites down your neck is what pushes you over the edge, letting out a groan and a string of curse words that would put your best friend to shame.

Wanda’s release follows, and you let her dig her nails in your shoulders as she comes. She relaxes against your chest, her heart slowing down as you run your hand up and down her back.

You don’t need to look to know there’s a mess of sheets and clothes around you. Wanda is too far gone to care, the intensity of her orgasm and the exhaustion of the day making her doze off.

“Can we make this into a tradition?” you whisper against her temple. She laughs, cuddling against your side.

“Totally”

—

Wanda: Hey

Y/N: Hey, gorgeous

Wanda: Miss you

Y/N: Miss you more.

Y/N: Thinking about that mindblowing orgasm too.

“Someone got laid for Thanksgiving” Carol reads over your shoulder and you huff.

“Mind your business, Danvers”

“Darcy said it was the best meal of her life. What do we have to do to get invited next year?” she says as you walk down the hospital halls.

“Go back in time and not sleep with me”

“Damn. Wanda’s still jealous? Would it change if I’m a married gal?”

“You set a date?” you stop Carol, excited to hear more.

“Your invitation should be in the mail soon”

“Congrats!” you smile, pulling her for a hug.

“There’s one more thing… I was wondering if you’d be my maid of honor…”

The request catches you completely off guard. Carol had been your friend since you arrived at the hospital, but considering everything that happened, you’d figure Maria wouldn’t be comfortable with that.

“I mean… I would love to, but Maria”

“She’s fine with it. Understands it was just a distraction”

“Aww, that makes me feel so special” you put your hands over your chest, sighing dramatically.

“You know what I mean” Carol says, making you walk to the ER. “So, you in? You’ll have to do dress fittings. Organize a bachelorette party. Make sure I’m there on time”

“Fine, yes. Oh, did I mention we got a dog?”

On the way to the ER, you show Carol a bunch of pictures of Sparky, and she’s still obsessing over his funky hair when you find Kate, finishing some charts.

“How was your night, Bishop?”

“A bit crazy. Some accidents on the road, and cuts with kitchen knives… but it’s been pretty quiet now”

Carol gasps and you want to scream.

“Don’t say the q word, Bishop” you plead.

“Why?”

Two ambulances park right outside and you nod towards them.

“That’s why”

True to the lore, the word quiet attracts a wave of emergencies and freak accidents that take up most of your shift.

That’s not what has you on the edge of a nervouse breakdown, though.

During your first break of the night, you answer a text from Wanda, telling her you’ll be sure to be there for Pietro’s dinner tomorrow, as he’s finally leaving on Monday morning.

No one ever leaves a voicemail so you check out the notification, and you wish you hadn’t.

“For someone who works in the ER, you sure as hell aren’t around for family emergencies” your mother says. “Well, it’s not really an emergency, but you get my point. We’re gonna be in town, Jane’s probably applying to Westview university next year. Call me when you can, it would help if you give us a tour around the city. And pick up the damn phone, it’s Thanksgiving”

Kate finds you in that moment, making you jump out of your seat.

“You wanted me to…”

“Follow up with the patient in 403, yes. I’m going out for a while. Call me if it’s urgent”

The first thing you want to do is throw your phone away, but you settle for walking to a nearby store, looking for a pack of cigarrettes and a lighter. If you didn’t have a shift to go back to, you’d certainly get a bottle of cheap booze.

As you sit on the sidewalk, your hands tremble when you light up a cigarrette. It’s been ten minutes and you’re through the third one when Darcy stops by.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Since you can’t find the strenght to explain it, you hand over your phone. Your friend physically recoils at the sound of your mother’s voice, that’s how much she dislikes her.

“I’m sorry” Darcy says, sitting next to you. “She might not even make time to see you, she’s probably just pretending, like with every holiday”

“It’s not just that, Darcy. What if Jane goes to Westview University? I’m going to… I’m going to be worrying about whether or not she’ll be around. If her daughter needs anything, she’ll call me, if something goes wrong and I don’t find a way to fix it immediately, I’ll be the screw up of a daughter who never cares about her family. I’m gonna have to move, there’s just no way I can…”

“Slow down” Darcy sits next to you, her hand on your shoulder. Her touch helps you stay calm, and you breathe slowly. “That’s a massive if. You don’t know if it’s happening. And we’re both very much aware that you could do everything your mother asks and it still wouldn’t be enough. Don’t let her control you”

“I don’t know how” you admit, your voice breaking down.

“That’s ok” Darcy pulls you in, hugging you. “We’ll figure it out. Or just take her to the nastiest places in town, she’ll never let Jane come here again”

You let out a laugh at that, wiping your tears.

“I love you, friend” you say, feeling exhausted.

“Ugh, you always get so emotional when that witch is lurking around. Careful or you’ll end up proposing to Wanda”

“I don’t want my mother anywhere near Wanda. If she says anything hurtful to her, I swear to God she’ll really regret the minute she pushed me out of her fucking insides”

“Damn, bitch, now that’s the fire I want to see in you” Darcy claps, pulling you up. “Come back inside. Heard it’s been non stop since your minion summoned the entire city”

“Yeah, she said the q word”

“Queef” Darcy sighs and you cackle.

“Sassy queef”

—

The last thing you want to do when your shift is over is have dinner and be social, but you promised Wanda.

So you walk through the door with a smile on your face and some flowers for your girlfriend. Wanda greets you with a kiss, but quickly pulls apart.

“Did you smoke?”

“Uh…”

Seems like the entire pack of gum after smoking for the last 48 hours didn’t do the trick.

“Yes, sorry. I’ll go use some mouthwash and change clothes”

“Hold on” Wanda pulls your hand, looking at you. “What’s wrong? You only smoke if you’re stressed”

“Sestra!” her brother calls, and you’re actually grateful for the interruption.

“I’ll tell you later. Pietro needs your help”

Thankfully the conversation centers on the other Maximoff and his plans for the upcoming weeks, now that the conditions seem more favorable for snowboarding.

You ask a question here and there, but mostly keep to yourself, eating the chicken paprikash and drinking wine. Yeah, you definitely drink a couple of glasses to keep your cool.

If Wanda notices, she keeps it to herself once again.

“Well, sounds like you’ll be needing a pair of brand new gloves” you say to Pietro at one point, taking out a box from behind the tv. “Hidden in plain sight”

“She’s a keeper!” he exclaims when he notices the fine material. “I’m definitely coming back for Christmas now”

“Hey, you better get me something nice too”

You’re halfway the second bottle of wine when everyone’s done with dinner, and the kids are debating between going for ice cream or watching a movie. It’s safer to stay in the kitchen, cleaning everything and hoping you can excuse yourself early.

Truth is, you really want to drink until you pass out but that would raise too many questions with Wanda.

“They settled on Jumanji” Wanda announces when you’re drying your hands.

“Mmkay. I’ll take Sparky out for his walk then” you volunteer, rushing to get his leash before she can ask anything else.

The cold air makes you sober up a little, remembering what Darcy told you.

Don’t let her control you, don’t let her ruin your life.

You’ve told Wanda your relationship with your mother is not the best, but how could you possibly explain that’s a wild understatement?

“Isn’t that the cutest dog?” Agatha greets Sparky, who wags his tail. “What’s their name?”

“Sparky”

“Oh, wow” Agatha waves her hand in front of her nose. “Booze and cigarrettes, did you have fun at the casino?”

“Uh…”

“Come on, I’ll get you a special tea. It always helps”

She rushes you to her porch, making you sit while Sparky is on your lap, comfortably napping.

“One cup of “specialty”. Hah! Get it? Special tea, specialty”

“Very clever… oh, wow! Does this have peppermint?”

“Yes, clever girl”

“My grandmother grew peppermint on her front yard. I always loved the smell of it… even the taste when she made tea” you smile, sipping slowly.

“Everything ok, kiddo?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“No, not really”

“Well, I’m here if you want to…” your neighbor says, petting Sparky.

“I mean, thank you, but I feel like I don’t have a lot of people to tell this to, without being judged. Because you know what it is? I fucking hate my mother, Agatha”

To your surprise, the woman let’s out a loud laugh.

“Oh, honey, please. Tell me about it. My mother was a witch”

“Is that figuratively or…”

“I mean, who knows. She was evil, that’s for sure” Agatha rolls her eyes, and then looks at you. “Yeah, I get it. Most people say that you have to love your family, just because you share blood. Blood is thicker than water, they say. Meanwhile, they don’t know the full phrase is the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”

“Is that so?”

“Trust me, I know” Agatha nods. “My mother would tell me I was evil, I was bad. Just rotten to the core, in her own words.”

“I’m so sorry”

“Darling, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. You have your own family with the Brady bunch over there.”

“I guess a part of me still believes she’ll apologize”

“Don’t hold your breath. And if she doesn’t, it still doesn’t mean you did something to deserve her shit”

“Thank you, Agatha”

The woman pats your leg, smiling.

“My love, are you coming back to bed?” a voice says from the inside of her house and you almost snap your neck looking back.

“Coming, Rio”

“I had no idea I was interrupting, I’ll leave right now” you stutter, carrying Sparky down the steps of the woman’s porch.

“Don’t sweat it, hot stuff. She needed a break after everything we just did” Agatha winks.

“Good talk, bye Agatha, bye Rio” you wave your hand, running back home all flustered.

The kids are with their uncle watching tv when you go inside. You let Sparky go so he can sit on the couch with them, and go upstairs to get changed and sleep.

Once you’re settling in bed, Wanda pushes the door open, eyeing you curiously.

“Sweetheart” is all she says. It’s both a question and an affirmation.

“It’s been a long day” you admit, too tired to pretend you’re ok, but also not in the mood to explain everything.

Maybe your mother won’t even come, and you’ll have shown Wanda how broken and fucked up you are for no reason. She doesn’t need to know it. Not now, at least.

“Let me help” she offers, climbing on your lap, kissing every inch of your face. You hold on to her waist, digging your fingers in her flesh. “I love you”

“I know. I love you too” you smile, finally connecting her lips with yours. She’s meant to comfort you with her touch, not wanting to start something else, because everyone’s downstairs. But when you swipe your tongue across her bottom lip, Wanda lets out a groan, nails scrapping your scalp as you deepen the kiss.

“Please” you say, switching positions so she’s on her back, you on top. You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but she can sense your desperation, holding on to your shoulders.

“It’s ok. I’m here. Use me, love. Take me”

Those words spurr you on, making you go down to kiss her neck, unbuttoning her shirt and leaving a trail of marks all the way to her hips. You desperately pull at her pants, immediately going down on her, your touch impatient as Wanda covers her mouth to keep quiet.

“Please” she manages to ask, and you give her more, stretching her with two of your fingers. “More”

You’re happy to comply, adding another digit and working them in and out of her clenching cunt, while you go back to meet her lips in a messy kiss.

“I fucking love you” you say against her mouth, and that sends Wanda over the edge, arousal gushing out of her with each of your final thrusts.

“I was… supposed to make you feel better” she says, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh, trust me. You did”

Wanda laughs, looking at you lovingly while you kiss her temple.

“I love you too” she says when your lips meet hers for a quick kiss.

“I know. I’m very lovable”

Her laugh makes you forget all the bad shit you’ve been carrying with you for the last day and a half.

—

“Take care, brat” Wanda says, her arms going around her brother. “See you soon”

“Yes” he then says something in Sokovian, making Wanda laugh.

“Do you guys know what they’re saying?” you approach Billy and Tommy.

“No, mama hasn’t taught us any Sokovian”

“We think it’s so they can say bad words without getting caught”

“Huh”

“What is all that mumbling I’m hearing?” Wanda says, making you stand straight.

“Nothing” the three of you say at the same time, making her laugh.

“Relax, sestra. You two, be good while I’m gone. And if you’re not good…”

“Be careful” they finish the sentence, laughing.

“And you…” Pietro points at you. Wanda is about to intervene, thinking he’s about to give you another shovel talk. but you wink at her, smiling. “Welcome to the family”

“Thank you, Evil Twin. See you at Christmas”

“You’re dressing up as Santa this year” he says in a low voice and you laugh.

The man gets in his car, waving goodbye one last time.

“Alright, you two, we’re gonna be late for school” Wanda says, and the routine slips you back to reality.

“Hey” you say, pulling her close to you. Before she can answer, you kiss her, hands on her cheeks. She squeezes your wrists, smiling. “Do I really have to be Santa?”

“We’ll see” she laughs, kissing you once again. “Come on. We got a busy day ahead of ourselves”

You smile, letting her take you back home.

Whatever happens next, you just need Wanda to get through it.

[genericpuff]

Looking back on it, Rachel really should have called Lore Olympus something else. It really doesn't seem to want to focus on 'lore' or 'olympus' and would rather be a romance with her self insert and celebrity crush. So many plot points and characters got thrown away for her two characters. It reminds me of Twilight having interesting background characters (Rosalie deserved better) and an interesting supernatural world. Yet Stephanie just focused on the dry ass romance of Edward and Bella.

I mean, the title totally worked in the beginning, the comic just lost the plot after its first season and became more like what you're describing, a weird May December romance about a girl who's only empowered enough to wait until marriage with the first guy she ever crushed on before having sex 💀

And yeah true that, a lot of fantasy dark romances like Twilight suffer from the issue of getting too hyperfocused on the main couple doing stuff and not paying enough attention to the actually interesting stuff going on around them. Though I will say, in Twilight's case, a lot of the "interesting stuff" was grossly misrepresented from Indigenous tribes and beliefs so... maybe it's for the best Stephanie didn't expand too much on it all in the end LMAO

Of course, the same can be said for LO, there were some really interesting plot hooks happening around H x P, but by the time S2 rolled around, all of those hooks got shoved under the bed until it was time to hastily wrap them up for those of us who were waiting to see them resolved. I think the Hera and Echo plotline was one of the worst culprits for that, you can tell in S2 she had an idea for some kind of "double agent" story with Echo where Echo would slowly come around to Hera's side and have to choose between her and the job Zeus clearly hired her for (to spy on Hera) - but then it just wound up skipping all that so we could watch Hades and Persephone play golf with diamonds, go shopping, and fuck around in the Underworld, until Rachel had to suddenly wrap up the entire Hera x Echo story in the most rushed, confusing way possible just a handful of episodes before the end.

LO had a lot of interesting concepts and ideas especially with the added benefit of it being based off myths that many readers were already familiar with, but unfortunately they were in the hands of a terrible writer working for a terrible company that didn't provide her with the resources she needed and could have really benefited from to tell a better story. It clearly needed a more involved editing process, more drafts to work through and scrap and work through again, more time to really plan out the full skeleton of the story, but what we got instead was more like a rushed first draft that spent more time on the bland uninteresting DDLG couple because they were clearly the easiest things Rachel could write about - fantasy shipping scenarios of them talking romantically to each other, making out, and having sex, boom, plot 🥴

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Nineteen: Different

Chapter WC: 8,439

Chapter Warnings: Some description of panic attack-adjacent emotions/sensations

A/N: I have a love/hate relationship with this chapter. I lost about half of my edits on this one the other day, and it was not an enjoyable experience. I'm tired of looking at it so! Here! Enjoy two idiots in denial definitely not having a date.

Also want to shout out this amazing art of Rex and Goldie by @ghostymarni!!! I literally gaze at it every day in awe 😭🙏

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

There's no reason for you to be nervous.

It's just lunch between friends. It's not a big deal.

And yet, your hands are sweating, and your stomach is fluttering, and you can't stop thinking about Rex. The way he'd laughed, or the sound of his breathing, or how nice his smile is. Your nerves are on edge, and you can't seem to focus, your mind wandering to places it shouldn't.

You're pathetic, you think. You've seen Rex a thousand times. This isn't even the first time you'd shared a meal at Dex's, and you weren't nearly this nervous. It's the same thing, but somehow, it's different. And the difference is throwing you off.

You take a deep breath, and you straighten your jacket, smoothing the front. The weather is unseasonably cold today, the clouds hanging low in the sky, and the chill is seeping through your clothes, the wind whipping through the streets. You glance up at the sky, squinting at the gray horizon. The Temple bears down on you from the distance, the stone a pale reflection of the growing storm, and you grimace and look away.

You're standing outside Dex's, the neon sign above your head casting a soft glow over the walkway, the letters blurring as the rain begins to fall. It's not too bad yet, but the street is mostly empty, the pedestrians choosing to take shelter inside the nearby shops and restaurants.

You should be inside too, but you can't bring yourself to sit alone and wait. You'd rather be somewhere you could pace, your hands clasped behind your back, your mind racing.

You're supposed to meet Rex here. He said he had a meeting that would run late, and he'd meet you when he was done. So here you are, waiting, even though it's freezing and raining and miserable.

And the fact that you're waiting outside, instead of taking cover like any sane person would, is just one more indication of how far gone you are.

The rain is growing heavier, the water dripping down the sides of your hood, and you can't help but glare up at the sky. You could be inside, where it's warm and dry, but no. You're out here. Because you're a sentimental idiot, and the idea of spending any amount of time with Rex has completely destroyed your sense of reason.

A droplet of water slips past the edge of your hood, trailing down your cheek, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. When your hand falls, you notice a tall, broad figure approaching you quickly and with intent. You reflexively brace yourself for a confrontation, your hand drifting to the saber tucked into your jacket, but then you feel it. A familiar presence. A glow of warmth in the Force.

Rex is walking towards you, his shoulders hunched against the rain, his expression hidden beneath the shadows of his hood. It's no wonder you didn't recognize him immediately. You've never seen him out of armor before. The dark pants and heavy coat are an unusual sight, and without the plastoid plating, he seems...smaller. More vulnerable. More human. Like any other civilian.

He's almost reached you when his eyes meet yours, and he breaks into a grin, his steps quickening. His face flushed, and he's breathing hard, as if he'd run the entire way. The realization makes you smile. You know he'd been running late. You hadn't realized he'd run.

"Sorry I'm late," he pants. "General Skywalker had a few last minute questions for me, and..."

"It's fine. I wasn't waiting long," you lie. 

You push yourself off of the wall, your arms crossed tightly, trying to ward off the chill. Rex's eyes dart over you, and he frowns, his eyes narrowing. 

"You're shivering. Why didn't you go inside? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you insist. You're not sure how to answer the first question. You could tell him the truth, that you didn't want to wait in there, alone with your thoughts, but it seems silly. So, you just shrug, giving him a sheepish smile. "It's just a little rain."

He shakes his head and gives you a disapproving look. "It's not just a little rain--"

"Are you really going to argue with me about weather right now?"

He stares at you for a long moment, and then he takes a step closer, the toes of his boots nearly touching yours. His hands rise, and his fingers grasp the edges of your hood, pushing it back to reveal your face. The fabric is wet, the strands of your hair around your forehead plastered to your skin, and Rex grimaces, his fingers brushing the locks away.

"You're gonna catch a cold," he chides. He's not looking at your face, his attention focused on untangling a lock of hair that's become caught in your earring.

"It's just water, Rex," you grumble, but there's no heat behind it. You're too busy watching him, your gaze fixed on his face.

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal to let a Jedi freeze to death." He smirks, and his eyes finally meet yours, his fingers still tangled in your hair. He manages to free it, and he tucks the loose strand behind your ear. "They'd throw me in prison. Or worse."

You swallow, and you try to ignore how close he is, or how good he smells, or how easy it would be to lean forward and press your lips to his. The two of you are standing close enough that you can see each other's breath fogging in front of you, and it feels intimate, like something you're not supposed to be seeing. 

"That would be unfortunate," you manage, and you take a step back out of his reach, his hands falling to his sides. You give him a faint smile, trying to regain some sense of calm. "For you, at least."

Rex lets out a soft chuckle and steps away, glancing over his shoulder at the diner. "Come on. Let's get you inside."

He places his hand on the small of your back and ushers you towards the entrance, the glass doors sliding open. A blast of warmth hits you, and you let out a sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders. It's not as crowded as usual, but the smell of food still hangs heavy in the air, and the din of conversation fills the room.

Rex removes his hand and waves down FLO, and the droid makes a beeline for the table near the back. You've been here so often that she's started to memorize your preferred booth, the one that's secluded enough to offer some privacy, and you're grateful for it. She's nothing if not efficient.

When the two of you reach the back of the restaurant, Rex removes his coat and drapes it over a hook next to the booth, and he takes your jacket as well, hanging it beside his. You take a moment to study him. The long-sleeved shirt he's wearing is fitted, and it shows off his toned body, the material clinging to his chest. You didn't realize just how much he filled out the armor. Now that he's not wearing it, it's hard not to stare. Your eyes trace the shape of his biceps, the curve of his pecs, the muscles that flex beneath the fabric.

Your mouth is suddenly dry.

You quickly pull your eyes away and settle into the booth, the vinyl squeaking under you. FLO reappears with two cups of caf and the carafe. She sets it down and takes your orders, her gaze shifting between the two of you as if she's analyzing the situation. You don't have to be a mind reader to know what she's thinking.

You can't really blame her. This is new. And the fact that Rex is out of his armor is strange, and you know it. You can only hope that she doesn't alert Dex to the fact that a certain clone captain has joined you again.

You shake your head and pour the caf, adding a generous amount of sugar to yours. Rex watches the process, his eyes lingering on the spoon, and you narrow your eyes.

"What?"

"How can you drink that?" he asks, his lip curling. "It's practically syrup."

You raise a brow as you stir, the liquid swirling in the cup, and you point at him with your spoon. "And how can you not? You have a sweet tooth, don't try to deny it."

"I have a healthy relationship with sweets," he retorts, taking a sip of his caf. "This is an addiction."

You roll your eyes and lean back in your seat, holding the cup with both hands. You blow across the surface, watching the steam rise, and you bring it to your lips, the warmth spreading through you. Rex is watching you, his gaze sweeping over your face, and he's got a strange look in his eyes. You can't quite read it.

"What?" you ask again, and this time, there's an edge of impatience to it. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinks, as if he's snapping out of a daze, and he swallows. “Like what?”

"Like I'm insane," you deadpan.

"I'm not," he assures you. His gaze darts away, and his cheeks flush, the tips of his ears turning pink. "It's just...you look different. I'm not used to seeing you out of your robes."

You glance down at your clothes, frowning. It's a simple outfit, nothing special. Dark pants, a light sweater, boots. Not exactly a fashion statement. You raise a brow, your eyes returning to his face.

"Well, I do have an off-duty wardrobe," you drawl, a smirk tugging at your lips. You take a sip of your caf, trying to hide your amusement. "I didn't realize you liked the robe look so much."

Rex's eyes widen, and he shakes his head, a look of panic flashing across his features. "That's not what I meant. I mean...you know...they're nice. But they're not, uh...I didn't..."

He trails off, and his face is red now, his cheeks flushed. It's endearing, how flustered he gets. You grin, and you rest your chin in your palm, gazing at him.

"Do I really look that bad?" you tease, and Rex's gaze snaps to yours, his brows knitting together.

"What? No, of course not." He frowns and leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. "You look..."

"Yeah?" You blink at him, feigning innocence, and his mouth twists.

"You're enjoying this," he accuses, his voice flat. "You're doing this on purpose."

"Maybe." You take another sip of caf and smile. "A little. Sorry."

Rex scoffs and shakes his head, his eyes rolling. "No, you're not."

"Okay, not sorry," you admit with a shrug, and you put your cup down, your arms crossing over your chest.

He huffs and leans back, and you grin, enjoying the slight pout on his lips. It's fun, riling him up, and you find that you want to do it again, just to see how he'll react. He's not as composed as he seems. He's got a temper, a sharp tongue, and when he's frustrated, the flush spreads all the way to his ears. You can't help but wonder what other reactions you can elicit from him. What would make him lose control? What would make him blush? What would make him...

Stop, you scold yourself.

You shift in your seat and pick up your caf, and the two of you sit in silence for a moment, sipping your drinks. It's not uncomfortable, but there's an edge to it, a tension that wasn't there before. You're not sure what's changed, but there's something different between you, and it's not just because Rex is out of armor. It's subtle, a shift in his energy, and it's not necessarily a bad thing. It's just...

Different.

You glance up, and you notice Rex's gaze flick away, the faintest hint of red staining his cheeks. It's almost imperceptible, but it's there. Your brow furrows, and your head tilts, a flutter in your stomach. Was he...

"So," you begin, clearing your throat, "what's this information you've got for me?"

"Ah." Rex shifts, reaching over to his coat and pulling a datapad from the pocket. He taps a few buttons, and then he slides the pad across the table, the screen facing you. “Here.”

You pick it up, and you're greeted with a grainy image of the Temple's hangar, its grand circular door turning down. At the end of the landing platform that slides out from the doorway is a sleek silver ship, its hull glinting in the light of the fading sun. The date in the corner shows the day of Master Qui-Gon's funeral.

You swallow hard.

"The footage was easy enough to find," Rex explains, his voice low. "It's not exactly classified. The logs are another story. Those were...well, I had to make some calls."

Your brows rise, and your head whips up. "Rex, you didn't..."

He shrugs and leans back in the booth, a smug smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"It's not illegal to have friends," he teases. "They owed me a favor."

You let out a startled laugh at the sound of your words being thrown back at you, and your hand rises to cover your mouth, your gaze dropping to the datapad. It's an obvious jab, one clearly meant to make you laugh, and despite the gravity of the situation, you find yourself smiling. You shake your head and turn back to the screen.

You watch as a tall, slender figure wearing a billowing cape strides toward the ship, and its cockpit opens to greet him. You recognize Dooku instantly. There's no mistaking his gait, the confidence of his stride, or his imposing height. He’s backlit by the setting sun, his silhouette casting a long shadow across the hangar floor.

Dooku steps aboard the ship and drops into the cockpit, and the engines begin to hum, the lights inside dimming. Then, the ship lifts off the platform and soars upwards, its tail arcing gracefully.

It's barely a speck on the horizon when another ship shoots out of the hangar in pursuit of it. It's small, utilitarian, meant for one person. One small person. There's a flash of light as it activates its thrusters, and the ship speeds after Dooku. After a few moments, it too vanishes completely from view.

The video ends.

Your eyes are burning, and there's a tightness in your throat, your jaw clenched. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, letting the air out slowly.

Dooku left the Temple.

Yaddle followed him.

You knew it. You've always known.

But, seeing it, actually seeing it, is more than you can handle.

The datapad falls onto the table with a clatter, and your hands tremble, your fingers clutching at your sleeves. You're struggling to keep your emotions in check, to maintain your composure, but it's becoming harder and harder. You're fighting a losing battle.

You knew, you remind yourself. You already knew.

But, this is different.

This is proof.

Your stomach is churning, the caf threatening to come back up, and the air around you feels thin, like you're running out of oxygen. The noise of the restaurant fades, replaced by a high-pitched whine and the ground beneath you starts to tilt. You're about to pass out. Or throw up. Maybe both.

"Hey."

There's a soft sound, like fingers tapping on glass, and you blink, your eyes focusing on a hand hovering in front of your face. It's Rex's hand. He's leaning across the table, his brows drawn together, and he's gazing at you with concern, his fingers reaching out to brush against your hand.

"Hey, come back," he murmurs. His hand wraps around yours, and he gives a gentle squeeze. "It's alright. Just breathe."

You suck in a breath and nod, forcing yourself to inhale and exhale. It helps, a little. The nausea fades, and the ringing in your ears is replaced by the sounds of the restaurant, the patrons chattering and Dex shouting orders. You can hear the rain pattering against the window, the distant rumble of thunder. The world is still spinning, and your heart is racing, but you're breathing again.

"Sorry," you mumble. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Rex argues, his tone blunt. His fingers stroke yours, and he glances over his shoulder, making sure no one's watching. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"No," you say quickly, your free hand moving to clutch at his wrist. You hold onto him, and he lets you, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. "No, I'm fine. I just...I need a minute."

He nods and sits back in his seat, his grip never wavering. You squeeze his hand, and he smiles.

"We can go somewhere else, if you want," he offers, and his voice is soft, his gaze sympathetic. "Somewhere quieter."

"No, it's alright," you assure him. You shake your head and take another deep breath, the air filling your lungs. The pressure behind your eyes is receding, and your heartbeat is starting to slow. You feel better, a bit calmer, and you're able to focus on his face, on his touch. "I'm okay. Really."

Rex nods, and he slowly releases your hand, taking his warmth with him. He leans back in his seat, his fingers tapping against the table.

"Alright," he sighs. He hesitates, and then his expression relaxes, his shoulders slumping. "So. That's the last of the security footage. And there's no record of either ship entering or leaving Coruscant airspace until Dooku's ship left the system the next morning."

"Which means..."

"She didn't leave." Rex's jaw tightens, and his eyes drop to the pad. "She never made it off-planet."

The confirmation makes your stomach drop, and you rub a hand over your face, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. None of this is anything more than what you suspected, but seeing it laid out in front of you is surreal, and it's a strange mix of vindication and heartbreak. You've known the truth for years, but there was always that nagging doubt, that tiny voice whispering that maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

You're not.

Yaddle's disappearance wasn't an accident, and she didn't run. She didn't abandon the Order, or you, and her death wasn't some tragic mistake. She was murdered. And the one responsible is sitting on the Separatist Council.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn to him, your brows furrowed. "Did the impound logs show anything?"

"A ship matching that description was recovered at a private port," he explains. "The records are incomplete, and they don't show the name of the person who impounded the vessel, but it was listed as a 'wreck'. Unfortunately, it was scrapped years ago."

"A wreck," you repeat, the words tasting bitter. "That's convenient."

"Too convenient," Rex agrees.

You run a hand through your hair and exhale, and you stare at the datapad, the images of Dooku's ship burned into your memory. He killed her, and he tried to hide the evidence. He erased her from existence, and he made it look like nothing had happened. As if she had never been her. And he's getting away with it.

The injustice of it all is staggering.

"Thank you Rex," you murmur. "I know how risky this was. For both of us."

"It was nothing," he replies. He gives a small shrug, and he reaches forward, picking up the datapad. "I'll send everything to you from an encrypted server. And I'll keep digging, see what else I can find."

You glance up at him, and you can't help but wonder how he managed it. This is more than a favor. This is serious. Rex is putting himself in a position where his loyalty could be called into question, and he's doing it without hesitation. For you. 

Sure, the two of you are friends, but this is dangerous. There's no reason for him to get involved, and the fact that he has is...well, it's confusing, to say the least. You're not used to people going out of their way for you, especially not someone who isn't a Jedi. Most of your friendships are born out of convenience. They're temporary, and fleeting, and you know better than to get attached.

This, though. This is different.

Rex is different.

You shake your head and reach out, placing a hand over his. "Rex, I'm serious. Thank you. Really. But, you've done more than enough. I couldn't ask you to--"

"You're not asking," he interrupts, his voice firm. "I'm offering. This is important to you. I want to help."

You stare at him, your mouth opening, and you find yourself speechless, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. There's a pressure building behind your eyes, and a lump in your throat, and you blink rapidly, trying to hold back tears. It's too much. Everything is too much.

"Why?" you whisper. "Why do you want to help?

His expression softens, and he lets out a long sigh, his eyes falling to the datapad. He's quiet for a long moment while you watch him, waiting for an answer. When it doesn't come, your mouth twists, and you move to retract your hand.

Rex moves faster. 

He turns his palm up and catches your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. He doesn't speak, and his eyes are on his hands, but he seems determined to keep you close. You watch him, waiting for him to say something, but he just continues to run his thumb across your skin.

You don't dare to move.

"I..." He trails off, his words dying in his throat. He's looking at you now, really looking at you. His eyes are searching yours, as if he's trying to read your thoughts, to figure out what you're thinking. 

You wonder if he knows how vulnerable he looks, or if he knows that you can feel his apprehension in the Force, a sharp tang in your mouth. He's struggling with something, something he doesn't want to admit. Something he's not sure he should.

"Rex," you prompt, and his grip tightens. "Tell me."

"I...I care about you," he breathes. "And I can't stand by and watch you suffer, not if there's something I can do to help. If I can make things better, even just a little bit, I want to try."

You blink at him, stunned. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth, and there's a strange sensation in your chest, like your lungs have forgotten how to work.

He cares about you.

The words echo through your mind, and they won't leave. They're stuck on repeat, playing over and over again, and it's all you can think about.

He's still holding your hand.

“You're my friend," he adds.

Oh.

Right.

You nod, swallowing hard. "I...Of course. Of course, you're my friend."

"Yeah. Friends," Rex mutters, and he's not looking at you anymore. His gaze has fallen to your hands, and he's staring at them as if they're something fascinating. Like they're a puzzle that needs solving.

The word stings.

"I just...you're important to me, and I want you to be happy." His grip tightens, and your breath hitches, a flutter in your stomach. "So, let me do this. Let me help you. Please."

You stare at him for a moment, the words echoing in your mind. There's no ulterior motive, no hidden meaning. He's simply being honest, and it's a raw, vulnerable kind of honesty, the sort of honesty that makes your stomach flutter. He cares. And, the way he's looking at you, the way his eyes are searching yours, makes you wonder if there's more to it. More than a friend should feel.

"Okay," you say. You take in a shuddering breath and smile, and his eyes flick back to yours. "Okay. Thanks."

"What are friends for?" He smiles back, and his thumb traces a pattern on the back of your hand, a gentle caress. He doesn't seem inclined to release you, and you're not sure you want him to.

Friends.

Right.

Friends.

You're his friend.

He's your friend.

It's a platonic gesture. A comforting touch.

Except, the way his thumb is moving across the back of your hand is not particularly friendly. It's more intimate than that, the movement slow, the contact lingering. And, the way he's looking at you, his eyes dark and warm, is not exactly platonic, either. You can't quite place the expression. It's affectionate, that much is clear, but it's more than that. You know it, and you think that Rex knows it, too.

This is a bad idea.

You don't want him to stop.

The sound of metal scraping against tile draws your attention, and the two of you break apart, his hand releasing yours. You hadn't noticed FLO approaching, but there she is, a tray in her hands. Her big yellow eyes stare down at you, the lenses flickering, the plates in her hands clacking as she tilts her head to the side. She seems...amused.

FLO sets the two steaming plates in front of you, and you thank her, reaching for your fork. She stares at the two of you for a moment longer, and then she turns and leaves, her gait slow and purposeful. Rex chuckles, his gaze following her.

"What?" you ask, your mouth already full. You didn't realize how hungry you were until the food was in front of you. Now, the smell is overwhelming, the spices and grease filling the air. You shovel the food into your mouth, chewing quickly.

"Nothing." He shakes his head and digs into his meal, his eyes still on FLO, a smirk on his lips.

You roll your eyes. "Come on, spit it out."

"Fine." He points at FLO with his fork. "I'm pretty sure she thinks we're...you know."

"What?"

He gives a half-shrug, a light blush staining his cheeks. "She thinks we're together. You know, a couple."

"Ah." You glance at FLO, who's standing behind the counter, watching the two of you. Your eyes narrow, and the droid's optic sensors seem to widen, her head jerking away.

You can't help but laugh.

"She does, doesn't she," you mutter as a flush creeps up your neck. You take another bite of food and chew thoughtfully, watching as Rex does the same. "Well, you are the only man I've ever brought here. Other than Obi-Wan, anyway. So, that might have something to do with it."

Rex chokes, and you look up, startled. "Are you okay?"

His hand shoots out, his palm waving in front of him, and he shakes his head.

"Yeah, sorry," he manages, his voice rough. He coughs and takes a sip of caf. He sets it down, his cheeks red, and his eyes dart away. "Sorry, I just...I'm the only one?"

"Mhm." You nod, resting your chin on the back of your hand. When he doesn't respond, you raise a brow. "Why is that surprising?"

"I guess it's not," he mumbles. He's avoiding your gaze, his eyes fixed on his plate. "But it's a little hard to imagine. You're..." He trails off, and he shakes his head. "Nevermind."

"What?" you ask, and there's a note of teasing in your voice. "What am I?"

"Nothing." He picks up his fork and spears a piece of food, lifting it to his mouth. "It's not important."

"No, tell me," you insist. You lean forward until you’re sure you're in his line of sight, and you tilt your head, giving him your best pout. "Please? For me?"

Rex barks a laugh, his eyes finally meeting yours as he puts his fork down. "Fine. But, if I do, will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" You blink at him, feigning innocence.

"That," he says, and his fingers point at his face, drawing an imaginary circle around his eyes. "The face. It's not fair."

You can't help but smirk. "What face?"

"You know what face," he accuses, but he’s smiling now.

"Fine. I'll stop," you concede, and you settle back in your seat, a triumphant grin on your lips.

"I mean, look at you," he sighs, gesturing vaguely towards you. "You're..."

Rex pauses, and he glances down at the plate, his fingers tapping against the table. He doesn't seem inclined to finish his thought, his brow furrowed, and his mouth twisted. You get the sense that he's not sure he should continue.

"Well, for starters, you're beautiful," he finally admits, his voice quiet. "Anyone with eyes can see that."

You blink, all trace of humor gone. The words hang in the air, and you can't help but stare at him, your heart racing. He'd said it so casually, as if it were obvious. As if it were a given. And maybe, to him, it was. The realization makes your face heat, and you shift in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position. It doesn't help.

"That's..." You hesitate, and then you clear your throat, shaking your head. "That's a good start."

Rex snorts. "Glad you approve."

"Go on," you say, nudging his foot under the table. "Keep going."

"Oh, so now you want compliments?" he drawls. He shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. His tone is teasing, but there's a hint of nerves, a note of vulnerability. As if he's worried he's overstepped.

You're not worried.

You want to hear him say it.

"Don't be an ass." You poke him in the shin with your boot, and he chuckles. "I'm not the one who started it. Now, keep going."

Rex sighs, his eyes rolling. He leans back in his seat, his arms crossing over his chest. He looks amused, but also resigned, as if he's accepting his fate.

"All right, fine," he mutters. You shift, and his eyes follow the movement, the look on his face softening. "Where was I?"

"Beautiful," you supply. "I believe you were about to go into detail."

"Ah, right." He runs a hand over his hair, and he gives you a wry smile. "I'm afraid I'm not good at this, but...well, you're a beautiful woman. But, you're also smart, and funny, and you're surprisingly good with people for someone who claims not to be."

You huff a laugh. "Hey."

"And," he continues, ignoring you, "you're one of the strongest, most compassionate people I've ever met. You're brave, and dedicated, and...well, it's hard not to admire that. To admire you."

You blink, and the words settle, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You try to swallow, but your throat is tight, and you can't speak. You can't even think. You can't do anything but sit there and stare at him, your heart beating out of your chest.

"What?" Rex smirks, and his brows rise. "No smart remark? No witty comeback?"

"I..." You shake your head, and you try to form a coherent sentence, but all that comes out is a choked noise. You clear your throat and manage to stammer out, "That was...That’s a good list."

"A good list," he repeats, his tone dry. He leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, and his gaze sweeps over you, a smile tugging at his lips. "Are you blushing?"

"Shut up," you mutter. “It’s warm in here.”

Rex laughs, his foot nudging yours under the table. You kick his shin again, and he kicks back, a grin spreading across his face. You try to ignore the way his eyes sparkle, the way his lips curl, the way his dimple deepens. You fail.

You can't look away.

The booth is silent, the only sounds coming from the bustling restaurant around you. The rain is beating against the window, and you can see water running in rivulets down the glass out of the corner of your eye.

The world beyond the diner is gray and dull, the colors muted. Inside, though, is a different story. Everything seems brighter, warmer. More vibrant. You can't help but wonder if it's because of the man sitting across from you.

"So," Rex starts, his voice low. He shrugs. "I guess I am surprised. It's hard to believe that you've never had a..."

"What?" you prompt. You raise a brow, and you cross your arms, the corner of your mouth quirking. “A date? A lover? An admirer? A suitor?"

Rex laughs, and he shakes his head. "Any of those things. I guess I just assumed that, well, that they'd be lining up."

You snort and shake your head, and you're about to tell him that he's ridiculous when his words register. His voice had been casual, but his eyes had held an edge, a question. There was something hidden there, an unspoken query. 

It's almost imperceptible, but you've become very familiar with his expressions. With him. He's not asking, he's probing. There's a part of him that wants to know. The same part that had asked if he was the only one.

It occurs to you that maybe, just maybe, there's a reason he's asking. And, if you're being honest, it's a reason that excites you.

"Well, I haven't had a lot of time,” you explain, your fingers picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. "Or a lot of patience. Or much of a desire, honestly. It's just been flings, here and there. Nothing serious."

Rex nods, his eyes falling to his plate. He picks up his fork, poking at a piece of food, but he doesn't eat.

"Not that I haven't been interested," you continue, and his eyes snap back to yours. "I have. It's just...it's not easy, dating a Jedi. There are rules, and expectations, and I've always been hesitant to..."

"Break them?" Rex supplies, his lips quirking.

"I was going to say 'take that risk'," you retort, a smirk on your lips. "But, yeah, 'break them' works, too."

"Ah." He nods and leans back in his seat, his fingers drumming against the table. "Right."

There's a beat of silence, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other. You're not quite sure what to say, and neither is he, it seems.

Rex's gaze darts away, and he takes a sip of his caf. You watch as he sets the cup down, his fingers drumming against the ceramic, his thumb brushing along its edge. His lips part, and his jaw works, but no sound comes out. You can feel his apprehension in the Force, the uncertainty that's bubbling beneath the surface. He's nervous. About what, you're not sure.

"Rex," you start, and your voice is quiet, almost hesitant. "What is it?"

"I'm trying to figure out if I should say this," Rex mutters, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, now you have to," you deadpan. You lean forward, your elbows resting on the table, and you rest your chin on your folded hands. "Go ahead. You won't offend me."

"That's not what I'm worried about," he huffs.

"Then, what are you worried about?"

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, he sighs, and his shoulders slump.

"Are you..." He pauses, his expression contorting. "Aren't you and General Kenobi...?"

Your brows shoot up. "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes." Rex clears his throat and looks away, his cheeks flushing. "Sorry, it's none of my business. I'm just...curious."

"Oh." You take a deep breath, and then let it out slowly, your eyes fluttering shut. 

You should have seen this coming. It's not the first time you've been asked, and you know it won't be the last. It's a reasonable assumption. And Rex, well, he's a smart man. He's no doubt picked up on the subtle glances, the casual touches, the familiarity of your conversations. He's a soldier, and he's trained to notice details. He would have picked up on the signs. The rumors. The gossip.

But the fact that he's asking about it is something else entirely.

You open your eyes, and you see that he's watching you, his expression wary, his body tense. His hand is resting on the table, his fingers drumming a rhythm against the surface. It's a nervous habit, and it's one that you've noticed before, but never thought much about. Now, it's all you can think about.

You wonder if he's been thinking about this for a while. If the questions have been sitting at the back of his mind, gnawing away at him. If he's been avoiding asking you about it, afraid of the answer. If he's worried about what will happen when he gets it.

You decide that it's best to be honest.

"I'm not," you say quietly. "We're not."

"Oh," he breathes.

"But, we were," you admit. "For a long time."

The rhythmic tapping of his fingers suddenly halts. "Oh."

You give a small shrug, and you pick up the mug, bringing it to your lips. It's cold now, and bitter, the liquid barely a few drops, but it's enough to give you something to do, something to distract you from the heat that's creeping up your neck. 

Rex looks like he's going to be sick.

You take a long sip and swallow, the taste sour on your tongue. You put the mug down, and you rub a hand over the back of your neck, a sigh escaping you.

"It was years ago," you continue. "We were kids, and we thought that...well, we thought it would be a good idea. And recently, I guess we tried again, but..." You trail off, and your eyes meet his. "It didn't work out. It was just too much, you know? We were never really compatible, not like that. But it took us a long time to figure that out."

"I see," he murmurs. His brows furrow, and he seems to be processing this new information. "Are you still..."

"No." You shake your head. "No, not anymore. It's over. We're just friends. Good friends. And that's it."

"Oh,” he says again.

Rex stares at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. You stare back, waiting for him to speak, but he doesn't. Instead, he picks up his mug, draining it in a single gulp.

The Force swirls with conflicting emotions. There's curiosity, and relief, and something else. Something warm and sweet and achingly familiar. Something that makes your stomach flutter. You try not to read too much into it.

"So, yeah." You take a deep breath and let the air out slowly. "That's, uh, that's my love life in a nutshell. Or, lack thereof."

You force a smile, and Rex's lips twitch, a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. His eyes are still fixed on yours, and you can't quite read his expression. It's thoughtful, and calculating, and a little bit smug. His hand lifts to cover his mouth, his thumb grazing his lower lip, and he gives a slow nod.

“Rex? You okay?"

"Yeah," he says, lowering his hand. He's smiling now, his eyes bright. "I'm fine. Just...processing."

"Good," you say, leaning back in your seat. You can feel your face heating, and you quickly turn to your plate, stabbing a forkful of food. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dump all of that on you."

"No, no, it's fine," he assures you quickly. "It's...I'm glad you told me. It's a relief, actually. That the two of you aren't..."

"Together," you finish, and he nods.

"Yeah," Rex murmurs, his voice soft. "That."

You take a bite and chew slowly, your eyes fixed on his. He's staring back at you, his gaze steady, and you can't help but notice that there's something new in his expression, a warmth that wasn't there before. Or maybe you just didn't notice it.

Maybe he was always looking at you like this.

"I'm glad, too," you say quietly. You give him a crooked smile, and he mirrors it, his cheeks flushing.

"Good."

The word is enough to break the spell, and the two of you turn your attention back to your meals. The conversation moves easily from there, and you talk about everything and nothing. The war, and the Temple, and the things that make the two of you laugh. Rex has been bouncing back and forth around the Mid Rim for a while, and the stories are both horrifying and humorous. You can tell that he's enjoying himself, his eyes lighting up as he talks. You find yourself smiling more than you'd care to admit.

Rex in the middle of telling you a story about Fives' latest mishap with the men, and his hands are flying through the air as he tries to convey the extent of the prank, the words spilling out of his mouth. You're laughing at the story, his excitement contagious, when your comm beeps.

You grimace, and you pick up the device, the screen flashing.

"Sorry, give me a second," you mutter. "It's Obi-Wan."

"Right," he says, and the amusement slips from his voice, replaced with a hint of concern. "Go ahead."

You sigh, and you slide the comm onto the table, answering the call. Obi-Wan appears in a holo-image, his form flickering slightly. His hands are tucked into his robes, his brows raised, and he gives you a pointed look.

"Hey, Obi-Wan," you rush to say, trying to appear as innocent as possible. "What's up?"

"Where are you?" he asks. His tone is mild, but there's a sharpness to his words, a hard edge to his gaze. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Oh, um..." You glance at Rex, and then look back at Obi-Wan. "I'm out."

"Out," he echoes, his voice flat. He gives a humorless chuckle, and then leans forward, his gaze narrowing. "My dear, it's pouring. It's freezing. What are you doing out in the middle of the storm?"

"Having lunch."

"With?"

You nod, and your eyes flick to the side, catching Rex's. He's staring at you, his expression neutral, but the corners of his mouth are twitching, a smirk threatening to appear. He's clearly enjoying the exchange, and you bite back a smile.

"With a friend," you reply. "It's not a big deal."

Obi-Wan tilts his head and frowns, his eyes searching yours. You feel a tug in the Force, and you can tell that he's trying to peer into your mind through your bond. You push him away, a scowl spreading across your face.

"Don't do that," you snap. 

But it's too late. Obi-Wan's eyes widen, and he lets out a low hum. You know that he's figured out who you're with. And, judging by the knowing look on his face, he knows exactly why you're hiding it from him. You want to groan, or bury your face in your hands, or maybe crawl under the table.

"Really?" he murmurs, a teasing note in his voice.

"Don't," you warn. "Just...don't. Please." 

"My sincerest apologies for interrupting your meal, then." Obi-Wan grins, and he gives a slight bow, his hands still tucked into his robes. You can't help but roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. 

"It's fine," you grumble.

"Good." He lets out a sigh, his hands moving to rest at his sides. "Then I suppose you won't mind if I ask you to return to the Temple. Immediately."

Your brows furrow, and you lean forward, giving him a hard look. "Why? What's wrong?"

"The Council is having a meeting," Obi-Wan replies. "We need to speak with you."

For a moment, it feels like all the air has left your lungs. The words are familiar, and they echo in your mind, sending a chill down your spine. It's an echo of a memory, a fragment of a dream. You shake your head and take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself.

"Right," you breathe.

"I'm sorry," he says. A wave of sympathy washes over the bond, the feeling making your stomach turn. You can't blame him for feeling it. The look on your face must be pretty awful. "But it's important. You need to be here."

"I know," you mutter, and you try to muster a smile, but it's shaky at best. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"See you soon," Obi-Wan murmurs. His gaze softens, and the corner of his mouth quirks. "And tell Captain Rex that I say hello."

"Shut up."

You jab at a button, ending the call. The image of Obi-Wan vanishes, and you lean back in the booth, letting out a long exhale. Your stomach churns, and there's a sinking feeling in your chest. The Council is meeting. To talk about Yaddle. It has to be. This is it. They have to listen to you now. They have to. They have to.

A hand touches your arm, and you startle, your head whipping up. Rex is watching you, his expression tight, his eyes worried. He's leaning forward, his hand resting on your elbow, his thumb stroking over your skin.

"You okay?"

You shake your head, giving a hollow laugh, your gaze dropping to the table.

"No," you whisper.

"Hey, look at me," he says softly. He waits until you do before continuing. "They'll listen. They have to."

"I don't know," you admit. You sigh, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "This is it. This is the chance I've been waiting for, but, if they don't..."

“They will.”

Rex  slides out of the booth and stands, grabbing his coat. He tugs it on and holds out a hand, the gesture so natural that it doesn't even occur to you to question it. You place your hand in his, and he pulls you to your feet. The two of you gather your things, and Rex stands close while you pay the tab, and then you walk to the door together, leaving the warmth and safety of the restaurant.

The rain has stopped, but it's still cold, and a biting wind whips around you. The streets are littered with puddles, the pavement reflecting the fading light of the city glittering around you. Everything looks washed out, and faded, and dull. The colors have been stripped away by the rain, the world left behind in shades of gray.

Rex shoves his hands in his pockets as you tuck yours under your arms, and you walk in silence down the street. He's not touching you anymore, but you can feel him, his presence a balm to your nerves. You know that he's thinking, his mind working overtime to try to find a solution to a problem that's not his own. He wants to help, and, in truth, you're grateful. But, it's not his battle. It's yours.

The two of you make your way to the street corner, and you stop, turning towards him. The shadows fall over his face, and his gaze is distant, his expression pensive. You watch him, and the silence stretches, the moment heavy with unsaid words. You have to go. He has to stay. But, the thought of walking away from him fills you with a sadness you hadn't anticipated.

Rex takes a step forward, and his eyes flicker to the Temple looming in the distance, his expression softening. "Do you want me to come with you? I could wait outside."

"It's okay, Rex," you say quietly, shaking your head. "This is something I have to do alone. Besides, if they see you, they'll think we're plotting."

He raises a brow, and his lips curl, a smirk appearing. "We could be."

"We are," you tease, and Rex huffs a quiet laugh. You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "But, I can handle this. Really."

"I know you can," he says. He smiles, and his gaze darts down, his hands flexing in his pockets. His eyes find yours again, his expression gentle. "I believe in you."

Your stomach flutters, and a warmth spreads through you, chasing away some of the tension in your body. You give him a small smile. "Thanks.”

Rex nods, and his hands slide out of his pockets, slowly, hesitantly. He opens his arms, his palms facing up, a silent invitation. You don't give him time to reconsider. 

You close the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and Rex stiffens for a moment, his body rigid. Then, his arms circle your waist, and he pulls you against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head.

Without your armor as a barrier between you, the hug is more intimate, more familiar. You can feel the shape of him, the curves and lines and angles. You can feel his heart pounding, and his breath tickling your hair, and his fingers splayed against your back. It's nice. More than nice.

It's the most natural thing in the world.

But, it's also the worst possible time.

The two of you break apart at the same time, and Rex runs a hand over his head, a sheepish look crossing his face. You know exactly how he feels.

"I should go," you say quietly. You clear your throat and straighten, smoothing your hair. "Thanks again."

"Anytime," he says, his lips quirking. "Good luck. I hope everything works out."

"Me, too," you murmur. "I'll, uh, let you know how it goes."

"Please." He smiles, and he nods toward the Temple. "Now, get out of here."

"Yeah," you agree, and the two of you share a long look. There's so much that you want to say, but, in the end, you settle for a simple "See you later."

"Later," he echoes.

You nod, and turn on your heel, forcing yourself to walk. With each step, the feeling of him fades, and the world rushes back in. The chill seeps into your bones, and you shiver, the wind whistling through the streets. You can't bring yourself to look back, and you shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket, heading towards the Temple.

As you walk, your mind wanders. You can't seem to focus, your thoughts drifting from Yaddle to the Jedi Order to Rex, the pieces refusing to fit together. You know what you want, and what you have to do, but the path forward seems unclear. You don't know where to go from here.

The entrance of the Temple appears in front of you, and you sigh, the exhaustion settling over you like a weight. You have no choice but to press forward.

The Council is waiting.

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[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

@duskdog

Hiiii! Been meaning to respond to this because you raised some really interesting ideas, sorry that it’s taken me a hot sec.

The crazy part is (like a lot of things about Steph) we get conflicting information about how Bruce sees Steph in relation to her father.

Steph consistently worries Batman is judging her by her fathers actions when she’s sanctioned at Spoiler. She identifies it as a potential reason the rest of the team doesn’t trust her.

This tracks with how Steph is shown to have a pattern of feeling responsible for the Cluemasters actions (which as I’ve mentioned before I see as an extension of her helplessness to protect herself and her mother from him during her childhood).

She identifies on multiple occasions that her choice to be the Spoiler is rooted in the misgivings of her father. Clear, easy example of this mindset is when she states because her dad is an asshole, she “has a lot to make up for” (Robin 80 Page Giant). She finds herself responsible in some part for his actions.

So it makes a lot of sense that Stephanie keeps asssuming other people are holding her to this same standard, judging her based off of her fathers criminal ways.

However, this assumption is not really substantiated.

I can’t think of a time Batman says or thinks anything which implies he gives a fuck who her dad is, besides when they first meet assuming she’s working with the Cluemaster instead of against him. (I’m not perfect however and I Might have missed one)

That is, until… Bruce Wayne: The Road Home Batgirl (🎉I love talking about BWTRHB!!!!! The worlds shittiest acronym!!!🎉)

After his little assessment and convo with Steph, Bruce tells Alfred that Stephanie and Wendy “need watching”, as their dads were both “criminals”.

This train of thought comes out of nowhere. As already stated, there’s very little evidence that Batman cared much that her dad was a criminal before this point.

Additionally, half his goddamn team has criminal fathers/mothers, ranging from mob bosses to goons to cult assassins to international terrorists. What is he even saying.

This is a total inconsistency. But I can see your view kinda accounts for that hypocrisy. If Bruce sees Cluemaster as a “lesser” threat and holds him in less esteem than the more formidable villain parents, it might explain why he seems to put this bonus emphasis on Stephs parentage. (Maybe he sees Stephs fathers criminal ways as more ‘mundane’ and therefore easier for her to slip into?)

I don’t think I’m totally sold on that idea, but it’s definitely interesting.

His statement feels just so out of nowhere (and again applies to half the people he works with) that I find it hard to believe this is a consistent concern of his.

Batman’s opinion on low level thugs varies (obviously by era and writer), but the versions of him I find most compelling are when he is shown to be sympathetic and willing to help people in shitty situations get out of them (even if they were doing crime beforehand). However it’s entirely possible (and probably equally substantiable) that he has unconscious and class based biases which might affect how he acts and treats certain characters.

I’m not nearly as intensely familiar with Jason’s character as I am Stephanie, so I’m low grade blanking on any good examples of how Bruce interacted w Jason’s background (besides his generally all consuming belief that Jason was on track to worse and worse crime and eventual death before Batman took him in).

Sorry this is pretty rambly, but I thought you brought up a Rly interesting point and i had some thoughts I wanted to add on

How Batman uses the idea of those "born for" vigilantism to justify working with Teen Vigilantes before and after the death of Jason Todd, and what it has to do with Stephanie Brown.

(DISCLAIMER: I'm not trying to condemn the concept of child/teen vigilantes in superhero comics, its a staple of the genre and dumb to condemn it like you would in the real world. I'm analyzing the times in which Bruce Wayne the character has questioned the concept himself, and the rationalizations he comes to about it)

By examining Bruce Waynes mindset immediately before, during, and after Jason Todd's deadly time as Robin, we can see how Batman rationalizes and justifies teenaged vigilantism.

When Dick Grayson as Robin is shot by the Joker, Batman essentially fires him from being Robin. Bruce entirely dismisses the concept of working with a "child" to fight crime. Batman seems to believe working with Dick as Robin is simply too dangerous.

Batman #408 (1940)

His Mindset at this point: Teenaged Vigilantism = Dangerous and Bad

But this, obviously, doesn't stick. It barely takes any time at all after this forBruce Wayne to take in Jason Todd and subsequently make him the second Robin.

Crime fighting with a 19 year old is too dangerous, but crime fighting with the 12 year old? Yeah, sure, why not!

There is an obvious contradiction, and a clear change in mindset.

In order to rationalize his choice to take in Jason Todd as Robin after firing Dick, Bruce Wayne must internally reendorse the concept of Teenaged Vigilantism. And he does so in a specific way:

Batman #410 (1940)

Mindset: If Jason Todd was not Robin, he would become a criminal and die

The dying part is specific as well. When confronted at first by Alfred, its more of an afterthought, something which would occur down the criminal "road" Jason was bound to end up on. But when he is later confronted by Dick, the idea that being Robin "saved" Jasons life takes center stage.

Batman #416 (1940)

It's no longer some distant crime related death Jason was on course for, it was an imminent death which Bruce was able to save him from.

Mindset: If Jason Todd was not Robin, his "self destructive energies" and lack of "self esteem" would have killed him.

This phrasing is SUPER interesting to me, because its not true in a very specific way.

1. Jason Todd wasn't really shown to have "Self destructive energies" before he became Robin. He was stealing to make a living, to stay alive. He never showcases a desire for "self destruction", unless you count his hitting Batman with a tire iron, and his interference in Ma Gunn’s heist. Which I don't.

2. It seems to imply Jason Todd might have died because of specifically "self destructive tendancies", which seems ascribes a small amount of passive potential suicidal ideation, which is also vastly unsubstantiated by anything we see from Jason before he becomes Robin. But you know who is a character who is deeply rooted in concepts of suicidal ideation? Batman. (I'm not going prove this point here, but this concept gets more firmly rooted in the upcoming years after this comic, Knightfall being a great example) Being Batman, Knightfall will establish, is pretty much all that keeps Bruce Wayne living. You could say that being Batman saved his life.

3. Bruce admits he took Jason on because he was lonely in this very same confrontation when Dick pushes him on this idea. This makes it abundantly clear why he needs this rationalization in the first place, his real reason for making Jason Robin appears to be somewhat selfish.

But what does this all mean? For one, it proves that Batman's primary explanation for why he took on Jason Todd is lowgrade BS. It also shows how Batman's rationalization has begun to veer into projection. He states that Jason was saved from his self destructiveness by becoming Robin, something that is certainly true for himself, but not really Jason.

We see this projection fully take root when Leslie Thompkins confronts Bruce. Not only is Jason Todd saved by becoming Robin, now he wasn't even chosen by Batman. It was, much like Bruce Wayne becoming Batman, inevitable. Something he was "born" to do.

Detective #574

Mindset: I didn't chose Jason, he was chosen, he is just like me, we were born for this

This is essential. This mindset will show up again and again as a core part of Bruce's ability to rationalize working with child vigilantes once Jason has died.

Lets look at how his mindset has been evolving from before he meets Jason to his time as Robin progressing. Batman has gone from:

Teenage/Child vigilante Bad --> Child Vigilante Good because Jason would have become a crimial --> Child Vigilante Good because Jason would have died, I saved his life --> Child Vigilante is Good because I saved his life and Jason was meant to be Robin just like I was meant to be Batman, this is what we were was born to do

This is insane rationalization. But it works. For a while.

Then, Jason begins acting out, and putting himself in danger. Whoops. uh oh! How can Jason be saved by becoming Robin, if he is endangered by it? The balm for Bruce's semi-suicidal ideation was crime fighting, so if Jason is self destructive as Robin, does that mean Jason isn't like Bruce after all? Does that mean he wasn't born to be Robin? Was Bruce right in the begining? Is Teen Vigilantism Bad? Well, lucklily, the rationalization Bruce has built doesnt need to change too much in order to accommodate these new facts.

Batman #426 (1940)

See, this issue has not reverted back to being child vigilantism, it's the fact that Jason isn't ready yet.

Batman #426 (1940) / Batman #427

Batman latches onto this idea, he identifies it as "the problem". Is he wrong? No, not really. It does seem like Jason needs come to terms with his parents deaths. But this is important because it is still a rationalization for mindset he started with, still part of the reason he can be in favor of Teenage Vigilantism.

Then Jason Todd dies, as Robin. That truly breaks the underlying concept for this rationalization, that being Robin saved Jason Todd. The entire justification has fully shattered, and Bruce Wayne has lost a son. And, so because of this, in the wake of Jason Todds death, we see a full 180 revert back to the idea Bruce held onto at the end of Dick Graysons time as Robin: Teenage Vigilante = Bad.

Batman #428/ The New Teen Titans #55 (1984) / Batman #439

He has fully rejected the very concept of working with anyone, including the now adult Nightwing. He is literally right back where we started, with even deeper convictions against working with someone else (especially a kid) ever again.

But we all know this doesn't stick. He takes on 13 year old Tim Drake as Robin not long at all afterwards. As the 90's progress Bruces goes on to work with a huge variety of other vigilantes and partners, both teenaged and adult.

So how does he possibly justify this?

I believe he retrofits his rationalization for taking on Jason as Robin.

He adheres to a primary idea. The idea that some people are, like him, simply built for Vigilantism. That they, much like he once believed Jason was, "born" for it.

Mindset: Child Vigilantle is not always Good, but it can be Good. When its the right kind of teenager. Some Teenaged Vigilantes are meant to be Vigilantes just like I was meant to be Batman.

In this way, Jason Todds tragic murder is not a failure of concept, it a category error. Batmans mistake was not working with a teenager, his mistake was working with the wrong kind of teenager. Jason Todd was not built for vigilantism. But others are. This means he's still totally in the clear to work with teenagers, Tim Drake as Robin, then Cassandra Cain as Batgirl, and then eventually Stephanie Brown as Spoiler. So long as Bruce is able to believe they are "born" for it, that they are like Batman himself, meant to do this, and incapable of living a normal life, there is no contradiction, his rationalization holds.

But where’s the proof?

This mindset can be clearly seen and prominently seen when Stephanie Brown is fired as Spoiler.

When Steph is fired as Spoiler because she has moved in Bruce's mind from the "acceptable Teen Vigilante" category into the "unacceptable Teen Vigilante category". And the reasons he gives for this decision are exactly in line with the rationalization I've lain out. She is consistently contrasted to other teen vigilante characters who are fit for duty because he does not see her as "like him/them".

Detective #790

Notice how he jumps right from "Jason and Stephanie were/are not fit to fight crime" to "they could/can have a normal life" right to "unlike me and you, Cassandra Cain, who are stuck fighting crime forever". Much like how he originally justified his decision to work with Jason Todd as Robin through the idea that Jason and Bruce were both destined for this life, he applies the exact same idea, but this time, about himself and Cassandra Cain as Batgirl. And in contrast to them, and in directly comparison to Jason Todd, Stephanie is not meant for crime fighting.

Batgirl #38 (2000)

And Stephanie Brown is contrasted with Cass again, when Bruce first explains why he fired Steph to Cass. This is a consistent pattern. She is not like Cass. This is why she shouldn’t be a vigilante.

When he explains that he is going to fire Steph as Spoiler to Tim, he says something very interesting which invokes the same idea. In the list of three reasons he throw out that Steph shouldn't be Spoiler, he mentions that she is going to "throw her life away". When taken in combination with the other panels discussed, its clear to me that he means this is the common way the saying is used. That she is wasting her life by being a vigilante, that she should, as he mentions earlier, be living a normal life. But why is he saying this to Tim? If one of the reasons Steph shouldn't be Spoiler is her ability to lead a normal life, why the fuck is Tim exempt? I think it comes from a genuine belief that Tim is "like him". Unable to live a normal, non-vigilante life, "born" for crime fighting. Much like Cass, who we already saw him directly compare himself to in this exact same way. Thats why he can directly reference to Tim Steph's ability to have a normal life as a reason she shouldn't be a vigilante, he doesn't believe Tim fits the same category at all!

Robin #106 (1993)

So why the fuck does Stephanie move categories? She was acceptable earlier? What changed?

I've already done an in-depth explanation for what the subconscious underlying reason Bruce fires Stephanie: she simply is no longer useful to as a balm for his loneliness. I highly recommend checking out the post here if you are interested in the breakdown of why and how.

But in addition to that, it’s clear to me that it also has a weird amount to do with Jason Todd.

Stephanie simply and clearly reminds Bruce of Jason Todd. He points out their similarities in personality, and it’s worth mentioning the similarities in their circumstances as well (mothers who struggle(d) with drug addiction, and fathers who were criminals).

As we saw in Detective #790, their personality similarities led to Batman associating Steph with Jason. This makes sense, this association would only grow as he got to know her over the time she is sanctioned as Spoiler.

I believe this association leads to him eventually placing her in the same category as Jason, as not "born" for vigilantism at all, and as capable of having a normal life.

But it also serves as a clear way to rectify his mistakes with Jason. It’s his way of “making up for” his role in Jason's death. It’s his second chance. Never mind that this second chance leads to his assessment of Stephanie having very little to do with Steph herself, and a whole fucking lot to do about Bruce’s guilt over Jason’s death.

This is especially brutal because it seems to come from a place of genuine care (and a selfish desire to assuage his guilt too), but Stephanie doesn't get the tender moment of explanation and grief and regret that Cassandra hears. She doesn't get to know this.

What she gets, is to be told point blank that she is fired because she just isn't good enough. She gets to hear that she lacks the "skills and talent" from the same man who originally came to her to train her because he finally saw and recognized her potential. She gets told she will never be good enough by the guy who told her that she could learn and improve under his instruction. She gets two sentences. She has to fight for any more.

I cannot emphasize enough the fact that she had to track Bruce down to get an explanation for why he was suddenly ghosting her. He didn't even have the decency to tell her himself. Stephanie had to track Bruce down just so she could find out that he gave up on her.

Stephanie gets a blunt lie about why she is fired. And Bruce Wayne gets to feel good about "correcting" a mistake that had nothing to do with Stephanie. Stephanie gets cut off from her friends. Bruce Wayne gets to reconcile with his team. Stephanie gets to feel worthless. Bruce Wayne gets to feel justified.

[koji-haru]

I'll be with you

[For @inubaki! Happy birthday!! I hope your day was amazing! ❤️]

This fucking sucks. Adam groaned loudly as he slumped in his seat, face looking tiredly up at the red ceiling. Red. Before he didn’t care much for the colour, but now, with red painted everywhere he went as if he wore red tinted sunglasses all the time, he had come to hate the colour with a passion. Charlie went around the group, letting them choose which journal they wanted. The princess had talked everyone’s ear off with her lengthy speech about gratitude and taking things for granted, except Vaggie because of course she always supported any of Charlie’s exercises no matter good or bad of an idea it was. 

Unfortunately for Adam, he was the second last person in the group circle, with Alastor just after him. When Charlie finally got to him, he only had two options: one had ‘Live. Love. Laugh’ written on it in cursive with rainbows in the background, and the other was a plain beige journal with ‘My Life’ written on it. Adam quickly chose the beige journal, better the boring one instead of sparkly rainbows. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Alastor’s smile twitch a little when Charlie handed him the remaining journal. 

“Oh, thank you dear,” Alastor said as he slipped the journal into the shadows, most likely never to be seen again. 

“No problem at all!,” Charlie beamed.

Honestly, Adam wasn't sure how she managed to stay so bright and cheerful in such a miserable shithole of a place that was Hell, but props to her, he supposed, but that didn’t mean he was going down the same delusion. Adam looked down at the journal in his hand. Three things he was grateful for everyday, huh? 

It has been almost two months since Adam died in the failed Extermination, revived as a sinner, and was now a resident at the very same hotel he tried to destroy trying to redeem himself back to Heaven. Well, ‘trying’ would be an exaggeration, more like forced to stay at the Hotel by Sera and Lucifer. Sera just wanted him back as an angel in Heaven to stop the others from wondering where the first man disappeared to; really, she just wanted to keep the ‘mess’ he made under the rug. And Lucifer, well, he just wanted to keep his precious princess happy. If Adam could be redeemed back to Heaven, then maybe Charlie could even get Heaven’s support for her hotel since Sir Pentious’ redemption apparently only made them decide to at least leave the hotel and its residents alone. No news about the possibility of future exterminations yet though. 

In reality, Adam wasn’t even sure if he wanted to get redeemed. Don’t get him wrong, he hated being in Hell, the place was absolutely vile and disgusting in ways he never thought was even possible. But he was kind of glad to have some of the weight be lifted off his shoulders. He would have preferred to have all of the weight be lifted off him when he thought he finally, truly died at the battlefield, but it seemed that God had other plans for him. He already lived long lives in both Earth and Heaven, as a human and as an angel, but now he also had to live a life in Hell as a sinner. It was wearing him out. He just wanted to be relieved of any duties; he just wanted to finally be done with everything. Being in Hell, he was constantly reminded of his failure in the garden of Eden, how he also bit the apple despite knowing he shouldn’t just so he could selfishly remain with Eve. Sinners themselves were proof of the filth he knowingly allowed into the world, and as much as he hated killing his own descendants, the Exterminations were truly the only way he could clean up his mess. Or at least that was what he believed; when news of Sir Pentious being redeemed reached the hotel, Adam thought he was going to die a third time. This entire time he spilled the blood of his children, thinking that that was the only way for him to make up for his mistakes as well as, in a twisted way, saving them from an eternal life in Hell, it was all for naught. Redemption was possible. Some of those souls didn’t need to be erased…

Adam flipped the journal open. He had so many regrets in his eternally long life that all good things seem to simply fade into the background. Well, almost all the good things. He still wasn’t sure how it came to be, but somehow, he managed to earn Michael’s love that even led to a promise of eternal devotion. Yes, the archangel Michael, Lucifer’s very own brother. It was certainly an odd twist of fate, but his union with the archangel was something Adam would never ever regret no matter how many lives he would end up living. Michael was the only reason Adam was even sort of trying this redemption thing, otherwise he would simply tell Sera to fuck off and leave him to suffer in Hell. Despite the strong urge of giving up, Adam wanted to at least see Michael one more time. He knew he didn’t deserve it, especially with their stark differences in, well, everything important, but he couldn’t help it. He was just a human needing to be with the love of his life.

Yeah, he was grateful for Michael’s love even though he didn’t deserve it. He could write that in the journal. He would write that everyday.

Just as the group was about to get up from their seats and off to whatever they wanted to do for the day, a loud and purposeful knock on the hotel door sounded throughout the lobby. Charlie perked up from where she stood, somehow managing to look even happier as she excitedly made her way to the door. Everyone was currently present at the lobby for her activity, even her father, that knock could only mean one thing…

Charlie pulled the door open, beaming brightly as she greeted her new guest, “Welcome to the Happy Ho..tel…” 

The words quickly died in her throat as her jaw simply dropped at the sight before her. What was such a being doing in Hell, especially at her hotel?! In front of Charlie was the most divine angel she had ever seen, with such celestial presence exuding off of him as if the very Heavens had gone down to visit Hell.

The angel gave Charlie a small smile as he stepped closer towards the now open door. “Hello young lady, sorry but I’m looking for Adam, the first man. I heard he was staying here?”

“Oh, uh, y-yes,” stammered Charlie, still stunned at the presence before her, as she took a step to the side, letting the angel into the hotel. “Just this way.”

“Thank you,” the angel thanked with a quick nod of his head before entering the hotel with quick, determined strides. He stopped by the lobby, looking around briefly until his eyes landed on a group of people gathered in a circle, and then zoning in on a specific sinner, looking different and yet all too familiar. The large black horns, blackened gold wings, floppy brown ears, and the long fluffy brown tail, swinging back and forth in impatience, did nothing to obscure the fact who the supposed sinner was. 

Before Lucifer could even react to the sudden guest’s presence, the angel already made his way towards the group, angelic presence heavy and almost burning, stopping just beside Adam and looking extremely displeased.

“Adam.” 

“Wuh?” Adam turned and swore he nearly died a third time as shock ran through his heart at the sight of the person in front of him. There, he sat dumbly on the carpeted floor, looking up at the new guest, both happy and confused. “Michael? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same.” Michael stood over Adam, arms crossed and a rare scowl painted over his normally gentle face. “I didn’t think your annual ‘day trip’ with your exorcists included you dying, becoming a sinner, and staying in a redemptive hotel for almost two months.”

“Um…,” was all that Adam could say, still completely baffled at his husband’s presence here. At the hotel. In Hell. How did he find out in the first place anyway? Adam could do nothing but look down, unable to meet Michael’s eyes anymore as guilt resurfaced only to drag him back down. He had already accepted it long ago that the archangel was too good for him, but now, after having everything vile and revolting about him exposed, he felt he didn’t even deserve to be in his presence. 

“...I’m sorry…,” he said, quiet and apologetic, his torn heart visible for Michael to see.

“Aaawkward!!,” yelled Angel out from across them, followed by a pained yelp and a hiss when Vaggie smacked the back of his head to quickly shut him up. 

Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air settle in his lungs for a moment before releasing them back out. A much softer look replaced his stern gaze once he opened his eyes again as he leaned down and offered a hand to Adam. “We’ll get through this, okay? Together this time.”

His angel really did come for him. Starting from the garden, throughout his hardships on Earth, his afterlife in Heaven, and even when he had fallen to Hell, Michael remained Adam’s guardian angel, steadfast in his devotion and, for some reason Adam couldn’t fathom, desired to forever remain by his side. It was a bit much really, for someone like him, especially now that he was nothing but a lowly sinner. So instead, Adam kept his eyes glued to the red carpet he was sat on, opting to pick himself up instead as he always had and always should. Just as he was about to push himself off the floor, Michael crouched down instead, going down to his level, and cupped his face with the softest hand Adam had ever felt. Michael’s blue eyes looked straight into him, not piercing but gently knocking, asking with all the tenderness of the world. 

“Come on, let’s get you back up, okay?”

Adam felt his heart creak at those words, and yet he couldn’t help the relief that washed over him as a small smile crept on his lips. It seemed that his angel was adamant about staying by his side; Michael was just weird like that, he supposed, to be so attached to him. In the end, Adam ended up timidly accepting the hand offered to him, whether he deserved it or not. 

“Um, sooo…,” Lucifer coughed into his fist, looking awkwardly around the lobby. “...long time no see, huh? Michael…”

“Wait,” Charlie cut in as she finally stepped into the lobby after letting the scene earlier pass by first. “Michael, as in THE archangel Michael? Angel of justice and warrior of God Michael?”

Now that he was a bit calmer, Michael finally let the awkward and strange situation he forced himself into fully sink in. And, oh, how out of place was he. “That’s me,” he replied. 

“Ooh, a bigshot from Heaven. I wonder how big you really are~” Angel pondered aloud for everyone to hear, earning him another smack to the head from Vaggie. “Ow! I was just asking!”

“Or, I don’t know, he could just be my brother?” Lucifer rolled his eyes. 

The sparkle in Charlie’s eyes brightened up even more, rivalling even that of Heaven’s image in the sky. “Oh my gosh!!,” she squealed as she bounced on her heels. “I can’t believe this! Uhh, oh gosh we were not prepared for your visit, uhm.” 

Within a span of a few seconds Charlie went from eagerly shaking Michael’s hand to fussing and worrying about the state of the hotel.

“The hotel’s fine my dear. Spotless even!” Alastor said, the smile on his face as wide as ever, though the look in his eyes told otherwise. The presence of another angelic being from Heaven was certainly unwelcome to him. That, and he wasn’t going to accept any critiques on the hotel he had worked so hard to upkeep, especially not from some spoilt angel! “There’s no need to worry so much.”

For once Lucifer found himself agreeing with Alastor, even nodding slightly along with him. 

“I think so too, duckling,” tried to tell her, trying to ease her unnecessary worries away. Really, what was the fuss? Just because his brother was here. “Besides,” he turned his attention back to Michael, his gaze a little more serious. “He’s an unannounced guest.”

“Oh, I’m planning to stay in Hell, at the hotel, if you would have me,” Michael announced to a shocked still crowd. Even Adam, who was standing by his side, had his mouth agape, eyes wide in shock and face pale at what Michael had just casually revealed. 

“WHAT?!,” exclaimed everyone in the room except for Michael, who easily stood there so sure of his decision. 

“I wish to have Adam back in Heaven, and so I’m staying to ensure that,” he explained, turning his gaze back to Adam, a small smile on his face, though Adam could immediately tell that even though there was still love in it, the tenderness plastered on that smile hid a blazing holy flame. “We’ll have to carefully plan your progress, right Adam?,” he asked, smile brightening up even more, Adam could almost feel the blaze from where he stood. 

“R-right…,” Adam reluctantly agreed, afraid of the talk they would definitely be having later. Michael hadn’t been mad at him for years; the archangel held a lot of restraint when it came to most things, and it often took a lot for him to even become irritated. But for him to be upset and mad? That was when Adam knew he truly fucked up. Michael was going to untangle him, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever be ready for that; more than a millennia’s worth of tangled fibres of his being was not going to be easy to unravel and sort out, nor would the effort be worth it, if he had a choice in the matter. 

“You can’t just–,” Lucifer tried to interject but was soon cut off by Charlie’s excited squeal.

“Of course you can stay!”

“Charlie, sweetie–”

“Then you have my thanks,” Michael said with a small bow. “I’ll make sure to put in a good word about your hotel to Heaven.”

“Wait–”

Charlie gasped, exhilaration flowing in her veins. Support from someone like Michael might just be what she needed for her hotel to be taken more seriously by Heaven. Just the thought of her hotel being official in Heaven’s eyes and her dream finally becoming true sent an electric joy through every fibre of her being, leaking out into the world outside her in the form of bright happy sparkles. 

“That would mean so much to me..!,” she sniffled, tears now pricking her eyes like  sparkling jewels from sheer joy.

And just like that, it was decided that Michael could stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Okay but. Hear me out. Platonic m/f soulmates specifically in a heteronormative society.

Soulmates are understood to primarily be a romantic thing by society, because they’re meant to be the most important person in your life, and a lot of the time that person is your partner, but not always.

Reyna who grows up with Jason’s name on her wrist. Who gets through her shitty childhood partially through thinking one day she’ll meet her soulmate and he will love her and things will get better

And then she does meet him and he does love her, but it’s not how she expected it to be. He loves her, but it doesn’t seem to be in the same way she loves him.

And then even the goddess of love tells her she’ll never find love with her soulmate, and Reyna can’t help but wonder if she’s fundamentally broken in some way.

Jason who grows up just wanting to be loved, no matter in what way. Who has Reyna’s name on his wrist and is delighted when he meets her and knows they were meant to be friends. But he’s not sure he loves her in the way he’s supposed to. And he’s overjoyed that he has her, but sometimes he feels sad, because maybe that means there’s something wrong with him.

Leo and Piper who grow up with each other’s names on their wrists. Who find out during the meteor shower and kiss exactly once only for them both to immediately realize this feels off, but if that means they’re broken somehow, at least they can be broken together.

But then something shifts. Hera mixes up their memories and they no longer remember. Leo is stuck thinking his soulmate has a boyfriend, and maybe he’s one of the unlucky few people who is soulmates with someone that has a different soulmate. But then he looks at Jason and Piper together. And sure, he jealous, but it’s not Piper he wants to kiss, and he’s so confused. She’s the one who’s meant to be his soulmate. So then why does he think about what it would be like to brush his fingers through Jason’s hair?

Piper who doesn’t properly remember wilderness school but does realize her love for Leo isn’t what it’s supposed to be. She loves him so much, but she’s not in love with him like she should be. But surely Hera and her mom put her with Jason for a reason. Maybe there was a mistake with her tattoo. Maybe she was supposed to have Jason’s name written on her wrist. Maybe she’s not broken.

Except Jason’s tattoo says Reyna. And it’s clear that he misses whoever Reyna is. He says he doesn’t think he liked her like that, but she’s his soulmate, so surely he does. The name is burnt into Piper’s mind before they ever meet.

And when they do, she wants to hate Reyna. Wants to hate her for what it will mean for her relationship with Jason that Reyna exists. Wants to hate her for being proof that there is something fundamentally wrong with Piper.

But Reyna is beautiful and strong and a natural leader. Jason is lucky to have a soulmate that awesome. (And sometimes Piper kind of wishes Reyna was her soulmate instead of Jason’s.)

Reyna who wants to hate Piper because she’s the girlfriend of the guy who was supposed to be her soulmate. Who might be the reason Aphrodite looked at her and said she wouldn’t find love where she wanted or expected. But Piper is gorgeous and brave and stubborn, and Reyna doesn’t hate her. Sometimes she thinks it might be the opposite. Sometimes she wonders if that’s what her prophecy meant.

Jason who is loved in so many different ways after a lifetime’s worth of feeling unloved. Who is so confused how romantic love is supposed to feel in comparison to platonic love. Who loved Reyna and Piper but never like he was supposed to.

Who holds Leo in his arms and wonders if that’s what home feels like.

It’s Leo who figures it out eventually. He’s venting to Hazel about the whole situation after the incident with Nemesis and Hazel looks at him dumbfounded because “what gave you the idea soulmates had to be romantic??”

“Please tell me one example where it isn’t. You can’t.”

And Hazel just stares at him, then slowly rolls up her sleeve to show Leo the name on her wrist is literally her brother’s (which makes a lot of sense because obviously without Nico she wouldn’t even be alive right now. He changed her life in a way no one else could have)

And. Yeah. That one is kind of hard to argue with

And there’s nothing wrong with the way any of them love each other. They’re not what society expects soulmates to look like. But they’re all so very loved, and being loved platonically isn’t less valuable than being loved romantically just because it’s different. It’s not what they expected looking at the names on their wrists for the first time. But it’s still love, and maybe that’s the only thing that matters.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

spent a good hour reading up on your Not What He Seems AU, it’s such a perfect mix of angst and whimsy! Ford waking up to find 30 years have passed in the blink of an eye is is the kind of body horror terrifying i eat up, as an avid enjoyer of time travel and its inherent tragedy.

i got a few questions, if you’ll indulge me:

- what kinds of tattoos you think Bill has gotten over the years? i think i saw some arm bands in one of your pieces, but i’d love to hear if you have any specific ideas for placements or images. if he’s doing it for the safe pain experience, i’d think there are some pretty big/detailed pieces involved? and do you think the pain helps ground him somewhat, to find and fit better in the boundaries of the body?

- in the show, Stan feels a lot of guilt for stealing his brother’s identity and he kinda thinks of himself as a fraud, an actor. do you think Bill ever feels guilty for the same? or would he just miss Ford a lot, without the Stan-specific aspect of pretending to be “the better one”?

also any fun tidbits you’ve been rotating in your head lately! it’s impressive how specifically it seems like you’ve thought out how Bill’s presence would affect the canon show events, while trying to keep them as unchanged as possible. also StanFraud is the funniest, most perfect thing I’ve ever heard!

Thank you!! I’ve always enjoyed writing horror based on human response, so Ford’s perspective is probably one of the most fascinating to me in this AU, although, all of it is fascinating and enjoyable to explore, really!

— I haven’t worked them all out yet, but I know for a fact he has a tattoo of the Cipher Wheel on his back, the arm bands as you mentioned, a hyper-realistic tattoo of his ribs where his ribs would be (if that makes sense), and eyes on the back of his hands. Honestly, I’d be open to suggestions for him! I imagine him having some more grotesque, detailed tattoos that reflect the nightmare realm as well. And yes, the pain definitely helps ground him. It also gives him a sense of control as well, in a situation where he has none.

— If he does feel guilty, it’s a complicated kind of guilt. I don’t even think he’d fully process that he’s feeling guilty. It’s this sort of gnawing feeling he can’t get rid of, and it starts the longer he gets to know Dipper and Mabel — he never really felt it before that. He absolutely misses Ford though. He can’t define that feeling either. I’ve said before that he looks at Dipper strangely, and that’s because Dipper reminds him of Ford in certain moments, eager for discovery!

He and Stan never really talk about it, but the have both acknowledged missing Ford before.

Bill’s response was vague though, not an ‘I miss him too’, but an ‘I think I do too.’ He isn’t sure what to make of that.

Bill Cipher doesn’t feel remorse, or miss people, he does everything with intention and he’s never made mistakes. Or, that’s what he’s meant to be. Maybe he has gone soft.

And Tidbits! I have a few! Not as many as usual, only because Arcane’s been taking up a bit of my brain space lately, but I hope these shall suffice anyhow:

(And quickly, thank you again, I think way too hard on all the small details and how Bill’s presence would have a knock on effect. It makes me happy to see it get noticed!)

— In the early days of Bill being trapped, Stan obviously doesn’t open the Mystery Shack, and ends up having to take a few odd jobs around town instead. He’s earned a bit of a reputation for being a decent handyman because of that, and even now, old timers of the town will still come to Stan if they need something fixing, especially cars. He complains about getting too old for it, but he never says no. Money is money! It’s also interesting to think about how the little things would impact his relationship with the townsfolk and how they view him. He’s always been Stanley to them. He’s never had to pretend otherwise.

— I’ve toyed around with making the Blind Eye a bigger threat than they are in canon, being as the kids would have no reason to look into Old Man McGucket. I’ve also toyed around with McGucket ending up slightly different to canon, his mind still broken, but his motivation different, with him being aware early on that the man he sees isn’t Ford, and is in fact the beast he fears and tried to erase from his mind. A more antagonistic Fiddleford who’s been trying to get rid of Bill for years now would actually be really fun? If I can make it work, and make the Blind Eye work in this way, I’ll lean into it! For now though, it’s just an idea I’m throwing around.

— Vague ‘episode’ idea that exists within my brain is Bill accidentally starting a mini cult again after telling some sort of lie that catches on, and it ends up being a Mabel-Bill bonding plot-line as she tries to convince him to just be honest before this whole cult thing gets taken too far. I also love the idea of Bill making a comment about this being like 1952 all over again. He makes comments like that all the time. Surely he’s just joking!

— Another vague ‘episode’ idea I have is Bill taking Dipper and Mabel to the supernatural underground market of Gravity Falls under Stan’s nose, trying to prove he’s the cooler Uncle, and that he can handle the two kids by himself. This goes about as well as you’d expect. Stan isn’t too happy to find out Bill got Dipper and Mabel in trouble, as he tried to get them to do more and more risky things.

— Bill will sometimes start speaking in Euclydian without realising, especially when it comes to cursing, and no one knows how he’s making those sounds with his mouth. Stan’s actually started picking up some of the meanings in context and can roughly gauge what Bill might be saying.

[hanahaki-disease]

Driven by a Holy Force

Hell or High Water - Percy Jackson/DC crossover

Summary:

“Percy took a deep breath. This was it. No going back now. He can’t manipulate the mist to change their minds, he can’t make them forget—this was the real deal.”

This is it!! The reveal!!

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

You: Come to the cave 2:26 am

You: Important meeting 2:26 am

Edge Lord: no 2:29 am

Edge Lord: why 2:29 am

You: it’s important 2:31 am

You: please 2:32 am

Edge Lord: fine 2:35 am

Percy slid his phone back into his pocket, hoping the signal didn’t alert any monsters nearby. He doubts they’d be able to find him though. At the speed they were going, as well as all the unnecessary turns and short cuts Bruce was making, he’d be surprised if any monster in general was able to follow. Hell hounds were fast, and their noses were just as good as a normal dog, but the overwhelming scent of mortal that encompassed Gotham helped hide Percy’s demigod scent well. It was one of the main reasons he didn’t get attacked so much, which he was so thankful for.

He told Bruce that he was going to tell him about his father, but he also was going to tell everyone everything because both his father and his life go hand in hand. Percy can’t tell Bruce about his father without telling him about the war, and he can’t tell him about the war without telling him about the prophecy. And because him and Jason have the same father, then he has to explain why Jason died. Everything had layers, it was all connected in a complicated mess that would be easier to explain all at once with everyone there.

Which means having Jason, Bruce, and Dick in the same room for a minimum of at least thirty minuets while he talks. Gods, he hopes no one starts shit.

“Who were you texting?” Bruce asks. They were on one of the back roads that led to one of the cave entrances, dark forest brush and canopies covering the road. How Bruce can see through it, even with his mega-bright headlights, Percy will never understand.

“Jason,” Percy answered, “If I’m going to talk about my father, Jason should be there too. And, I also asked for everyone else to be there too.”

“Why?” Bruce activated the entrance to open, revealing the tunnel that led to the cave.

He paused for a moment, watching the wall lights of the tunnel flash by before it opened into the cave proper. His domino was still in his hands, the glue that kept it secure was drying a cracking on his face and he wanted to scratch and peel it off. “I wanna tell you guys about some stuff other than my father, and I don’t wanna repeat myself five more times than I have to.”

Bruce nodded his head as he parked, their presence catching the attention of the others waiting for them. Stephanie and Tim had just returned from their own patrols, it seemed. All their gear was still attached to them, and they were still wearing their uniforms as well. Their hair a mess of knots and frizz from the wind, various bruises and scraps littered Tim’s arms and Steph was limping as she hobbled to the dressing rooms to change.

Cassandra and Dick were pouring over a case at the meeting table. There were a couple folders open, the documents inside spread out along one end of the surface while a cardboard box filled with other folders took residence on a nearby chair. Both of them wore comfortable civvies, sweatpants and t-shirts (with a ‘borrowed’ hoodie Cass ‘acquired’ from Percy’s closet,) and their dominoes to hide their identities. Because even though they weren’t scheduled for patrol, they still had to follow the ‘masks while in the cave’ rule. (But Percy and Alfred did not follow it since they didn’t leave the property anyways.)

“Woah, where did you go dressed like that?” Dick had done a double take when they pulled up, catching the other’s attention. They all had various levels of surprise, save for Alfred, at the sight of Percy in an all-black version of Tim’s Robin suit. To them, the idea of Percy being like them was a far-fetched and impossible thought. He had always been adamant about not joining them and preferring to stay in the cave, deciding to being Alfred’s assistant when patching them up.

“Needed some fresh air,” he said, taking one of the seats at the table.

Tim slid into one of the chairs beside him, mask removed and cape-less, and in a hushed voice, he asked “Are you?” Percy nodded. “You sure? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“I have to, Tim,” Percy said. “You know what’s coming and I can’t leave in the dark if something happens.”

“Is Jason…?”

“I asked him to come, and it sounded like he was, but everyone’s here,” Percy sighed, “So, I dunno. I hope he does, I don’t wanna repeat myself more than I have to.”

Tim nodded his head, undoing the bracers on his arms. “Okay, well, if you need me to tap in, I can, alright? Imma go change before you start.”

Percy twirled his pen in his hand as he waited for everyone to get situated. For them to shed the armor they wore and to give Jason a chance to arrive before he began. But Percy knows that his brother would rather stay as far away from Bruce as he could, their estranged relationship already on thin ice for reasons Percy didn’t want to know. He probably should know, but he decided to keep Bruce and his brother’s problems to themselves.

Slowly, the others began to fall in, sitting themselves into their unassigned assigned seats. Bruce at the head of the table with Dick and Cassandra on either side of him. Stephanie sat next to Cass, her leg propped up on the empty chair with an ice pack resting on her ankle. Percy was sitting at the opposite head with Tim next to him on his right, watching as Percy twirled riptide in his hands.

Percy took a deep breath. This was it. No going back now. He can’t manipulate the mist to change their minds, he can’t make them forget—this was the real deal.

The flash of a headlight against the cave wall caught their attention before the roar of the motor hit their ears. It startled the bats above them and Percy swore the ground rumbled as well, but maybe he did that by accident. He’s done that before at camp, in the restrooms and in the big house kitchen.

The group all seemed to tense at Jason’s arrival, his recent switch to anti-heroism instead of drug lord did little to calm the other’s nerves. They were glad that Jason was more amenable to working with them after he and Bruce warred it out for a bit. He lingered at the edges of his part of town and didn’t turn the others away immediately, so that was a step in the right direction. Though his status as a crime lord didn’t really bother Dick, Cass, or Percy. They still waltzed into that side of town like they owned it alongside the second Wayne son.

Jason did not want to be here but will endure for Percy.

Heavy boots marched up to the table and a loud scrape of the chair closest to Percy rang in the cave. It seemed like he, too, had just gotten off of his own patrol. He tossed his helmet on the table, echoing in the silence that had fallen on them when Jason arrived. But Jason didn’t pay any attention to Bruce or Dick, their stares boring hole into his back as Jason made his chair face Percy. “Alright. I’m here, what was so important that I had to abandon my after-patrol tacos?”

Percy sat straighter in his chair. “Okay, okay,” he ran his hand over his face, pushing back his fringe, “Okay, so, you know the stories and legends of the Greek gods, right? The deities the ancient Greeks worshiped to explain natural phenomenon and all that. And…you know how the gods in the stories came down to earth and had kids? Heracles, Achilles, Theseus. Well, the gods are real. They are real and they’re still having kids, they’ve never stopped, not really, and I…”

Percy looked at Jason. At his older brother whose mother was the same as his, whose father sired two powerful children.

“My biological father—Jason and I’s biological father—is Poseidon, god of the sea.” They sat there quiet, uncomfortably so, staring at Percy as if he was spewing nonsense. But Percy could tell that Cass believed him. She could tell by the heaviness on his shoulders as he spoke, the tiredness that rolled off him in small waves. Percy also knows that Jason knows he wasn’t lying, some kind of inherit knowledge and acceptance that he was also the son of a god. “And every summer, with the exception of this past Christmas, I have been going to a camp that is designed for demigods to train and learn how to survive.”

“When I was twelve, I didn’t get kidnapped—” This caught Bruce and Dick’s attention. “I had become a fugitive of the state because I was given a quest to find and retrieve the king of the gods’ missing lightning bolt to prevent a war between him and my father. I left the summer after that because I had to find the Golden fleece to save the magic border that was keeping the camp safe after it had been poisoned.

“Last Christmas, I had to rescue two demigods and find the goddess of the hunt who had gone missing while also putting Atlas back in his prison,” Percy kept going, waiting for their reaction when he finished. “This past summer, the summer that Jason came back, I was on a quest with one of my best friends in the Labyrinth to stop Kronos’s forces and to find the lost god of the wild.”

“Percy, wha—” Dick tried but there was no stopping Percy now that he started.

“And, should I have told you all this years ago? Yes, I probably should have considering how close I’ve gotten to dying in the past three years, but,” that left the room feeling heavier than it should, “Next year—on my sixteenth birthday, there is a prophecy that a child of the eldest gods will be the deciding factor of whether Olympus will survive the war against Kronos. I-…I am the prophecy child, and there is a chance that I might…not survive.”

Percy’s voice was near a whisper towards the end, a little shaky as wobbly as he spoke to keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t know why he was acting like this. Percy had come to terms with the fact that he was the child of the prophecy almost a year ago on Olympus when Thalia swore herself to the hunt. He knew that it was up to him, that he would be the one to lead the camp, assemble their meager forces, and train child soldiers against a titan in a year.

He accepted his fate, so why was he close to tears telling his family?

“The fuck to you mean ‘might not survive?’ What do you mean that our father is Poseidon?” Jason was the first to speak, leaning forwards on to the table. “You can’t be serious.”

“You asked me where I had gotten my white streak from, remember? And I told you it was ‘a long story?’” Percy looked at his brother. “I held up the sky for twenty minutes, I kept the sky from falling onto earth and destroying it, and it was the heaviest thing in the entire world. Stephanie once asked where I gotten this scar on my thumb was, I had gotten stung by a scorpion from the pits for Tartarus, whose venom can kill in sixty seconds. This scar on my stomach is from I fought the minotaur on my way to camp for the first time, I have one on my leg from where I got stung by the Chimera. This one if from a pack of hell hounds, this is from some empusai last summer—”

Percy lifted his shirt, exposing the burn scars that ran across his back and his left arm. It was nasty looking, but healed without any lasting damage. Though sometimes in the summer when the days are scorching hot, it felt like his back was on fire once again. Burning from the incomprehensively hot steam that erupted from the volcano. “This is from when St Helens blew up—when I blew up St Helens. If I was lying, Jason,” he looked at his brother a little coldly, offended that he was making this all up when he was marred by the ‘glory’ he had earned. “Then why do I have the scars to prove it.”

“Percy,” Bruce called his name. “What war?”

He sat down in his chair again, “For the past few years, the titan lord Kronos has been rising. He’s growing an army of monsters, minor gods, and other demigods to overthrow Olympus and set everything back to the stone age.”

“Why haven’t we heard anything about this?” Dick asked him. “Why haven’t you told us about this sooner, we could’ve helped.”

“We can’t help,” Tim answered. “Trust me, I’ve tried, but we can’t. We aren’t like Percy or Jason, we can’t see past the mist, we can’t enter camp, were just mortals.”

“You knew! How long have you known?” Stephanie pointed at Tim, who nodded unapologetically, “I’ve known for a year, since Percy came back last Christmas. But I’ve tried everything to see past the mist but I can’t.”

“Mist? What mist?” Cassandra looked to him.

Percy popped open riptide, the bronze sword expanding and folding over itself till it reached it’s full size. He saw Jason’s eyes widen at the sight. Standing in alarm when the Riptides’ point nearly poked him. What the fuck, he mouthed. “The mist is the magical veil that hides and protects the mortals from the mythological mess that is my life. To you, and Tim can confirm, this looks like a bat. A classic, wooden baseball bat—”

“What fuckin’ bat? That’s a goddamn sword!” Jason exclaimed. “Wait, you can’t see it? What the fuck, why can I see it?”

“Because you’re also a son of Poseidon, you’re a demigod like me,” Percy said.

“So why didn’t I go to that camp if I was like you? Why didn’t I train to fight monsters ‘n shit?”

“You weren’t meant to.”

Whatever Jason was feeling stopped, his whole body stopped, as if Percy had just pushed pause on the remote. “What?”

“The fates made it so you didn’t go, it-…your, y’know, was the price father paid.” Percy said, his head resting on his wrist as he said it. Tears once again welling up in his eyes. “Me getting the prophecy was the price father paid for breaking the oath, twice. We aren’t supposed to exist and this is the consequence.”

When Percy looked at Jason again, all the color drained from his face. His words a revelation that shook Jason’s whole worldview to its core. Eyes blown wide, hands in his hair pulling at the roots, as whatever thoughts he was having took over. “Jay,” Someone called but Percy was more worried at the sight of his brother, crumbling apart after realizing not only was his death was intentional but the gods themselves made it happen.

He stumbled backwards, his balance swaying for a second before Jason made eye contact with Percy. And there was a kind of betrayal that Percy could see in his brother’s eyes, the kind that ran hand-in-hand with jealousy. Percy remembers seeing it on the faces of other kids in camp when they learn that Percy has had more contact with their parent than they did, when the gods chose him over their own children.

Jason stumbled his way towards him back, ignoring the concerned calls from Dick and Cassandra. And in a few seconds Jason was speeding away, his helmet still facing Percy on the table.

He wanted to chase after Jason, to tell him everything their father told him this morning. That Poseidon does care for him, that he wanted to step in and save him. But Percy knows that telling him would only make it worse, that telling him that not only does Percy know who they were and who their father was, but that said father preferred Percy over him. That Percy was the child he was willing to speak with (even though that was far from the truth.)

“How do we stop Kronos?” Bruce finally asked, pulling off the cowl, and Percy could see the restrain that kept him rooted to his seat. Bruce wanted to go after Jason too, but he couldn’t, he had to focus on one thing at a time. Batman can multitask and can do many things all at once. But he wasn’t Batman right now. His words might’ve been the bat’s, but the unmasked, worried and pained look he held was his dad’s. It that of a father worried about sending his son, potentially sons head first into a war. One he didn’t even know existed till it might’ve been too late.

“If I knew how, I would tell you, but you guys can’t be a part of this.” Percy tore his eyes away from Jason’s retreating form. “I have already explained this to Tim, but this is a war you can’t fight. The monsters that are a part of that army, as well as the weapons and places they reside, are hidden from mortal minds.”

“So what, we just sit on the sidelines while you go and become a martyr? I’m not letting you do that, Percy,” Dick said.

“You can’t—help—Dick, none of you can, point blank. That’s final.” Percy spoke with a finality of a general. “I’m not telling you guys this to make you feel helpless or to give me pity or any dumb bullshit like that, I’m telling you so that if something happens next year, you won’t be caught off guard. So that if the news around New York is all fucked up, or if aunt Diana disappears for a bit, you’ll know why.”

“Diana knows?” Stephanie asked.

“She’s a daughter of Zeus, technically my cousin,” Percy says. “But the point is: I didn’t want to hide this from you guys anymore. I wanted to keep you guys out of this for as long as I could because monsters follow me everywhere, I’m not safe anywhere but camp, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you guys got hurt because of something from my world.”

“We can defend ourselves, we’re not helpless,” Cassandra protested.

“I know that, but you don’t—you can’t even comprehend all that I’m going up against.” He capped Riptide and in a blink it was back into a pen. “Just, please, trust me. I know what I’m doing and I don’t want you guys in anymore of a risk than you already are, but—” Percy looked at Bruce. “If I need help, be that mortal evac or medics for the wounded or even for collateral clean up, would you come?”

“Of course,” Dick answered for Bruce who seemed to be staring a hole into the table in front of him.

Alfred (where had he been this whole time?) cleared his throat and handed Stephanie a pair of crutches, who grumbled and groaned as she stood up from the chair. “I believe that is all we’ll be able to handle for today as it is getting late, even for you all. Now, all of you, upstairs, time to rest and we’ll further discuss this in the morning.”

One by one they left the cave, Tim hesitant to leave Percy’s side, especially after revealing everything, but Alfred’s pointed stare from the elevators made his feet move of their own accord. By the time the commotion died down again, only Percy and Bruce were left at the table. They faced each other, but neither’s gaze meet the other and neither of them spoke for a bit. He had hands clasped together and help up to his mouth. He did that when he was deep in thought, when he was trying to plan a head to keep them all safe.

Percy knows about the contingencies he was in place for the Justice League and all its members. Knows how to take them down and has access to the lead vault that held their collection of kryptonite for when Superman decided to try and become God. There were even plans on how to take each member of their family down, what steps that needed to be followed and who to get to help. And Percy knows he wasn’t special, he wasn’t excluded from those plans either, but he knows that they were made with the mental image of a regular human Percy. Of the kid who didn’t have powers and only bat-level training.

Now he was a threat, or, an even bigger one than before. Percy had the blood of a god running through his veins and that meant that he was far stronger that most of his family. He could blow up a mountain, summon hurricanes, move the earth. Percy could lift the cave water and manipulate it to his will whenever he wanted. He was a threat level Bruce had never encountered before and now…now he was scared to know how far he’d go to subdue Percy.

He glanced up when Bruce stood from his chair. It was hard to decipher what it was Bruce was thinking, the furrowed eyebrows and hardened stare was that same one he wore all the time. And while Percy was pretty good in understanding the man’s various looks and grunts, he didn’t know how to react when Bruce sat down in the chair Jason had once been in.

“I won’t lie,” Bruce said. “I do not like you leading a war, nor do I like that you kept a threat like this a secret for this long.” Percy deflated under his words. “And I understand that this was not your choice and you have to do whatever you need to do to stop them, but I need to know why it chose you of all the other demigods? Were there no one else this could have been given to?”

Percy shook his head. “At the same time a prophecy was given, the big three swore an oath on the Styx to not have any more kids. Mostly because of how powerful they were, it was why World War 2 happened after all.” He fidgeted with his fingers. “But Zeus and Poseidon didn’t keep to their promise, and because the Styx can’t punish gods, their kids took the penalty.”

Bruce had an arm resting on the table, his hand covering his mouth as he absorbed the information. “Jason was the first, and the oath influenced the events that took his life. Thalia was after him, a daughter of Zeus, and she died right before she entered the camp to save one of my friends and my enemy, but we didn’t know that he’d betray us all at the time.”

“So then by default, you were tasked with the prophecy?” Percy nodded.

“There are two other children of the big three,” He said. “Both children of Hades, but the older of the two died on a quest last Christmas and the other is barely eleven. I don’t want this to fall on him, he’s too little and he’s already been through so much.”

“I can’t lose you, son” Bruce stood and pulled Percy up to stand before him. “I’ve already lost your brother and I am grateful he was able to make it back home, despite all the hiccups that happened to get him here.”

He hadn’t noticed how tall he was in comparison to Bruce now, his dad always seemed to tower over him like used to when he was a kid, but there wasn’t much of a difference between them. A few inches separated them from seeing eye to eye and Percy didn’t want the day to come where they were the same height to come. He still wanted to be able to bury his face into his dad’s chest when he hugged him, he be able to be picked up and carried like a child, to be told that everything was going to be okay.

And while now, Percy could rest his chin on Bruce’s shoulders when they hugged, the arms around him were still warm and strong like they always had been. “Just…be careful,” Bruce held him tight.

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise that.”

“I know,” he said, brushing down the hairs at the back of his head. “Of all people, I know.”

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

I had to write this, like, twice because the first draft didn’t fit right in the flow of the story anymore.

The only qualm I have with this is Percy’s rant about his injuries, idk it both does and doesn’t feel like something he would do. Like he’d do it to prove that what he’s gone through exists but he hates talking about himself 🤷‍♀️

Hope you liked it!!!

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[thoughtfulfiction]

Little Duckling

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

Warning: pregnancy and childbirth

Saturday 10pm

Justin had been asleep for almost two hours as you folded laundry and put it away in the nursery. Your induction was scheduled for Monday morning promptly at 8am and everyone within the Chargers organization knew that this was happening because your husband absolutely hated taking the day off. But this was understandably a special exception to the rule. You’d spent the last 9 months mentally and physically preparing yourself for this moment but the idea of having a human being relying on you for everything was still such a daunting task that you almost wished the day wouldn’t come. Not until you felt completely prepared at least.

And then the ache in your back and hips reminded you that your baby girl was quickly running out of room and would be making her entrance soon, whether you and your husband were ready or not. On the bright side, your stomach had dropped significantly in the last few days, allowing you to breathe easier and for Justin to poke fun at your pronounced waddle. He affectionately started calling you Mumble last week, from Happy Feet. The dad jokes were coming in strong.

You heaved yourself out of the chair you were parked in and were headed off to bed before a slight pain wrapped itself around the base of your stomach. The pressure moved from the back to the front, settling on a spot underneath your belly button. You stopped walking and used the wall to support yourself, rubbing small circles around the area until it passed. As a Braxton-Hicks veteran, you continued your trek to the bedroom, completed your nighttime routine and headed off to bed.

Sunday 2am

It happened again. The slight twinge of discomfort had you holding your breath for about 15 seconds before letting go and you had to take several deep breaths to recover. After a few minutes everything was normal again and you had to turn around to make sure that Justin was still asleep next to you. Throughout your pregnancy he’d become a much lighter sleeper, often waking up at ungodly hours to get you snacks or a few nights when you caught him talking to your belly, whether it was talking about the playbook or just telling her he couldn’t wait to meet her, it warmed your heart just the same. But you were thankful for now that he just missed that entire exchange because you were definitely not in labor…right?

Sunday 7am

You were definitely in labor. On a Sunday, when the Chargers were playing the Broncos at home. Of course. You’d experienced three contractions so far, just about four hours apart so you had plenty of time. There was no way in hell you were telling Justin. As soon as it was appropriate, you scooted yourself out of bed and went down to the home gym for some prenatal yoga and a good stretch, hoping it would provide a boost of positive energy. Then you hopped in the shower, allowing the warm water would relax your tense muscles and maybe help you delay the inevitable.

By 8:30 Justin was awake and making breakfast for the two of you while you sat on the couch watching New Girl. He brought your plate and a cup of orange juice to you which you were grateful for, but the thought of putting anything but the juice in your body made your stomach turn.

“Are you alright? You’ve barely touched your avocado toast and you’ve been devouring it the last few days.” He ran a gentle hand on your forehead like he was checking your temperature and caressed your cheek when he realized you weren’t abnormally warm. “I can make you something else before I leave if you want?”

“No, I’m fine! Just not hungry yet, I’ll probably eat later.” You lied through your teeth, desperately hoping that he would let it go. The excuse seemed to satisfy him enough for him to head back upstairs to watch some film and get ready. An hour and a half later, he headed downstairs just in time to find you stretching out your back, the cramp beginning to wash over you.

He replaced your hands with his own, slightly lifting your stomach to take the weight off for a bit. “Your stomach is hard as a rock,” he observed furrowing his brows and starting to piece things together. “Are you sure everything is ok?” His soft voice attempted to mask his worry filled words.

“Yeah I’m having a fake contraction, you know they’re so common these days.” You rushed out, attempting to use his extensive research against him. He could probably write his own version of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” with his newfound pregnancy knowledge. It was both impressive and scary how much he had grown to know what’s going on in your body before you did.

Although he nods his head in understanding, his face is still full of distress. And you could tell he was analyzing your words and tone of voice for any sign that you were lying, leaving you to mentally curse at the fact that he knew you so well and you’d need to work extra hard to convince him to go on like this was a normal day.

Although he let out a deep sigh, he didn’t ask any further questions. “I know, I just hate the thought of you being in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You tap his wrist so he can slowly drop your belly and you turn around in his arms. “You’re so cute, but it really isn’t that bad. A lot less painful than playing with ankle that’s hanging on by a shoestring I can tell you that.” You chuckle, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back and you felt compelled to return the favor, sensing he too needed some comfort. “Here’s what’s gonna happen today though. You are going to go and kick Denver’s ass then you’re going to come home, we’ll celebrate and then tomorrow you’ll be on your way to being the greatest dad to ever live. How does that sound?”

Justin chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips, nose and forehead. “If I’m half as good a parent as I know you will be, then I know I’ll be golden.”

“Stop it before I start crying, you know I’m super hormonal right now this isn’t fair.” You mumble, tears brimming your eyes. He gives you one last kiss before reminding you to call your friend Dani to stay with you, even though your moms were on their way to your home.

Once he pulled out of the driveway you could relax, letting out a deep sigh and patting your swollen middle. Crisis averted.

For now.

Sunday 12pm

Contractions were officially every hour and Dani was trying her best not to freak out in order not to freak you out. But she was definitely freaking out. What started out as more intense period cramps were becoming a lot sharper, so much so that you couldn’t even focus on Encanto, which was the last sign you needed to know that this was the real thing. You did manage to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and take a nap while she was with you, fluffing your pillows and telling you that you were doing amazing. Three hours later, there was a knock at the door and Dani went to open it for Holly and your mom. The two becoming best friends was probably the cutest thing in the world and your mom had even flown to Oregon three days before just to spend time with Holly and drive to California with her. They were the sweetest. And of course they brought snacks. There were lactation cookies for you in the freezer already but they brought more and they brought an abundance of food to eat during the game, which usually would have made your day, but today all it did was make you want to stick your face in the toilet.

You greeted the two women with hugs as Dani helped set up their spread and they immediately asked how you were feeling.

“I just woke up not too long ago so I’m feeling great now. Very ready to not be pregnant anymore so I can see my f—ohhh wow. Ow.�� You groaned, one hand on your contracting belly and the other gripping the counter for dear life.

Dani’s eyes bug out of her head as she moves to rub your back. “That was the roughest one yet.” She was right, this one left your whole body sore, a loud reminder that things were definitely moving along.

“This one?” Your mom questions, looking between you and Dani. Then, she and Holly exchange a look.

“Oh my gosh sweetie, you’re in labor!” Holly exclaims, “we need to get a hold of Justin immediately. I’ll call Mark, I’m sure he’s already at the stadium.”

You cannot shake your head fast enough, “there’s no need to call him yet, that was the first bad one. And this game is important.”

“It’s Justin hun, every game is important,” Holly laughs, giving you a loving squeeze.

“But you know what’s even more important to him? You and that baby girl that’s getting ready to meet us soon. Are you sure you don’t want to tell him now?”

“I’m sure,” you sigh, allowing your mom to guide you back to the couch, sinking down into it with a groan. “Once the game is over he’ll be here and we’ll go have a baby. But not a moment before.”

Admittedly, it was getting harder to focus. Justin was playing great, but of course so was Bo Nix. The Chargers would score and the Broncos would answer. The Broncos would get a stop and the Chargers would force a punt. You were entertained but the battle happening within you was the most interesting one to the people in your house.

Your mom had gone down to find your birthing ball, which helped for about half a quarter, just in time for a Ladd McConkey touchdown to put the Chargers up by 10. By the end of the third you were forced into a squat behind one of the couches, spreading your legs to hopefully ease the increasing pressure on your hips. You breathed through the contraction, the sensation sending a pins and needles feeling near your tailbone. Holly made sure you stayed hydrated, having secretly texted her husband halfway through the fourth quarter when the game was firmly in hand to have their son home as soon as humanly possible. Contractions creeped on 30 minutes apart, leaving you panting and groaning in discomfort until your muscles relaxed.

Fifteen minutes later, you were pacing around the living room and you had to stop to hold onto the couch again, your mom helping you roll your hips as you felt thin beads of sweat building around your hairline. Things were getting real and scary and you needed Justin.

“What time is it?” You murmured, cupping your stomach with a hiss as the baby moved.

“It’s 7:15 and he’s on his way home, baby.” Your mom whispers, sensing your increasing distress, “he’ll be here soon.”

“My back hurts,” you state suddenly, a slight tremble in your voice. “Everything really hurts.”

Your mom grabs at your hips, squeezing them together to apply counter pressure, giving you momentary relief.

Dani was in charge of timing contractions and all you knew was the moment in between them where you could actually form a coherent thought. Time was no longer real. You headed upstairs for some time to yourself and a wave of nausea hit you and you emptied probably everything you’d eaten the entire day, which in hindsight probably wasn’t much. But you weren’t in the headspace to think clearly right now. You walked back towards to the bedroom and clutched the doorway, visibly feeling the heaviness of the baby moving down, almost sending you to your knees if it weren’t for the solid, calming presence that was suddenly in front of you.

“Hey babe.” You breathe out, feeling a little unsure that your legs were capable of holding you up until you could sit on the bed.

He pulled you into his arms as close as your belly would allow and pressed his lips your forehead. “Hi. Glad I could make it back in time. I knew something was off with you this morning,” he narrowed his eyebrows at you when he pulled away, walking you slowly back into the room placing a firm hand on the small of your back, making circles with it while holding your hand with the other. “Alright baby…long have you been in labor?”

You let out a dry laugh at his disappointed dad look. “Since 10 last night I think? But let’s focus on the important things, you played great and you won but man you guys really took a minute to shut the door on ‘em.”

“Right, the important things.” He says with a knowing smile. “I know you love football as much as I do now, but if you told me earlier I would’ve been at your side in a heartbeat. You know that, right?”

God, you hoped your baby had his caring heart. “I do know that, I really do. But I also knew that you’d be able to do both. The Chargers are your family too and—”

A contraction creeped up on you, leaving you to hold onto your husband’s forearms with a sharp sound of pain, the pressure reaching an overwhelming peak that you hadn’t experienced before.

“Squeeze as much as you want, it’s okay.” His voice attempts to soothe you but you couldn’t hear him over the animalistic grunt that escaped you. Your body tensed involuntarily and he could see your stomach hardening as the tension continued to build. There was nothing more he could do than hold you through it, until something gave way and the floodgates opened…literally.

Even he sounded breathless by the end of it. “Your water just broke.”

Sunday 10pm

Contractions in the house were terrible. But contractions in the car, with no cushion from the water bag made it feel like she was right between your legs.

“Justin, you have to go faster. Please.” You panted out, desperately clutching the grab handle and leaning your head back with a loud moan. “Can you turn on the air, I’m dying in here. And I need to put the seat back, my back is killing me, I’m sorry.” You felt like a turtle stuck on its back, waiting for someone to turn it over and set it free.

“Yeah, yeah do whatever you need. And you don’t need to apologize,” he pats you on the leg, “do whatever makes you comfortable, we’ll be there soon.” He kept looking between you and the road, slightly worried that he’d have to deliver the baby in the car. The only thing that slightly reassured him the whole drive was your sigh of relief when the fan came on. First babies were supposed to take a while but he’d missed the entirety early labor, so from the sounds that he was hearing he figured you were in or at the very least extremely close to the transition stage. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and remained that way until the birthing center came into view. Your parents had called ahead and would meet you there when given the word, so all you had to do was check in and you were brought to your private suite.

Seven centimeters dilated and without painkillers made your husband question any football toughness he thought he had. You were so close to meeting your baby and he was a mix of anxiousness, nerves and excitement. Most of all he felt so much love and admiration for your determination and strength. Holding off on telling him you were in labor so he could be there to get the job done with his teammates was one thing and it was a complete whirlwind to be there with you while you worked to bring your baby into the world.

Once he was finally able to tear his eyes off the baby’s heart monitor, all of his focus was back on you. He wasn’t going to say anything but the agony in your voice was really starting to take a toll on him. Months of mental preparation for this moment was nothing like the real thing and he felt utterly helpless, desperately trying to maintain some sort of control and be helpful in any way.

“Honey you’re shaking, are you cold?” Without even giving you time to answer he was up on his feet, reaching for his bag to grab the blanket he’d seen you drape over yourself on several movie night occasions.

You shake your head while your teeth continue to chatter, reaching for his left hand, “I think it’s the adrenaline. I’m okay I promise,” you shift uncomfortably in bed, trying to just go along with how your body is feeling and reacting. Your belly tightens, a white hot pain generating an unexpected moan as you palmed your stomach. Justin places his hand on top of yours, whispering to you that the contraction is almost over and constantly reminding you that you’re doing great.

The two of you decided to use gravity to your advantage and walk around the building since the entire floor was closed off at your husband’s request. He couldn’t risk anyone leaking the most private and cherished moment in his life.

“I can’t believe this is our last night as a duo.” Justin whispers, walking at a snail’s pace while you waddled alongside him. “It’s been a great ride, pal.”

“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. And I have a feeling this ride is going to get a lot more interesting from here on out.” You gave your belly a soothing pat.

He strokes your back as you sway your hips again, “thank you for choosing me to be the one that gets to do this with you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, more than anything in the world.” You grin, pulling him in for a soft kiss. His hand cups your face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss oozed joy and gratitude. Your husband wasn’t a man of many words, but his actions spoke volumes.

You squeeze his arm again suddenly as pain bubbles deep in your core and you rip yourself away from him to press your lips together to stifle a yell. “We need to get back to the room. Now.”

The noises leaving your body would have horrified you if you weren’t already sitting backwards on the toilet wearing only an oversized t-shirt, with your legs spread and the man of your dreams digging his thumbs into your back. “Harder please,” you groan, feeling like your tailbone is seconds away from shattering.

“I’m not getting a break,” you cry, clenching your jaw, leaning back and asking him to help you up. He hooks his hands under your arms and basically lifts you to your feet. “It’s not stopping, I can’t—oh fuck.” It felt like you were going to throw up, but out of the other end, which could only mean one thing. “She’s—Justin she’s coming right now. I have to push.” You took a breath and focused completely inward, your entire body going rigid, shaky straining sounds of effort pouring out of you.

The quarterback immediately sprang into action,“easy babe, breathe. I’ve got you.”

You held onto one of his hands and moved into a squat on your shaky legs as he pressed the red button on the side of the bathroom door, allowing your midwife to come in.

The baby felt like it was seconds away from falling out, everything suddenly feeling like it was moving a mile a minute. The midwife was saying something but the ringing in your ears was so loud you couldn’t focus on anything but getting your baby delivered.

After another throaty shove, you came back to yourself a little, feeling a gentle hand rubbing your shoulder. “Babe? You gotta slow down. Take a second, I can already see her a little bit you can give yourself some time.”

“I can’t, the pressure is too much!” Tucking your chin to your chest, you let out a yelp as you push again, using him as a solid wall to rest against as you spread your legs to give your baby more room. “Holy fuck your baby is huge,” your husband and the midwife both laugh, “I’m sorry it’s just—this is really hard.”

Pushing felt good, even though it left you shaking like a leaf in a cold and sweaty frenzy. At some point during the delivery he’d pushed your hair back with his lucky headband that was always around his wrist if it wasn’t on his head. It was the most intense experience of your life but you took one look at those bright green eyes and he reminded you that he was with you the entire time and you knew you could do anything with him by your side.

Remington Grace Herbert was born Monday morning at 1:42am with those exact same eyes that you fell in love with.

“Hi Remi,” Justin sobs, kissing her cheek. “We’ve been waiting for you, baby girl.”

“She sure knows how to make an entrance.”

You hand her off to her dad after scooting over to give him more room on the bed. He wraps a free arm around you, securely holding her in his other one, totally in awe. “She’s so perfect. You’re perfect. You did so amazing, I’m so freaking proud of you.” He kisses the side of your head.

You cuddle into him with a content sigh, “Our perfect little duckling is finally here.”

[perseidlion]

So I am a certified Catwin shipper. I have written a series that currently sits at 90k words that is casefic but also them getting together. But I am also a multishipper and have written some Payneland stories as well.

So I was understandably quite happy to hear we would've gotten Catwin in S2 because I love the dynamic and I love Lukas Gage and his performance.

But it has made me very sad to see how some people are genuinely upset by this news. I don't think it's justified, frankly. People are doing a lot of filling in the blanks, guessing, and supposition. Just because Catwin would have happened doesn't mean Payneland wouldn't have. Also, we have no idea the context in which all of this would have gone down.

It's important to remember that The Cat King also went on a journey and changed as a person throughout season 1 (as did all the characters.) He is not the same person who slapped the bracelet on Edwin when they first met and not just because he died and was resurrected.

He's matured, settled and grown. It's very possible this arc would have continued. Even if you hated TCK in S1, you may have come to love him in S2, or at least hate him less. Redemption arcs are great fodder for stories and I have no doubt the writers and Lukas would have done that kind of arc justice.

Or maybe Edwin would have had his hot girl summer and TCK was the same old lothario. In which case, he'd definitely be no threat to Payneland endgame. This scenario would make me sad for TCK because he does seem to have genuine feelings for Edwin beyond the sexual, but that was certainly a way they could have gone with it.

My point is, we're missing a lot of context. If you were to take plot points of S1 out of context as well, it would be very hard to envision the final product.

I mean:

Niko gets infested with dandelion sprites that nearly kill her. These sprites manifest with cartoon sparkles around her head and they feed on attention. When they get out of her brain, they're tiny snarky humans she keeps in a terrarium.

Jenny gets set up by Niko with a quiet librarian who turns out to be psycho killer stalker.

People jump off a lighthouse and get swallowed up by a giant angler fish who is siren-ing them to their death. Their ghosts linger, and this annoys the ghost who mans the lighthouse so he hires the boys. Charles yeets the Night Nurse into the fish, and inside she has a talk with an oddly calm and optimistic man. Oh, also the fish is called Angie and she didn't do any of this maliciously.

My point is, this show is camp. That's part of the charm of it. Camp plotlines sound absolutely wild when you distill them to one-liners. When you add in inciting incidents, context and character interactions, these turn from wacky scenarios into full, entertaining stories.

Please don't catastrophize based on crumbs! Whether we get a S2 or not, it's really not worth getting that worked up over. We can't draw conclusions based on what we've been given. It's all guesses, and it could have changed a million times before the episodes were finished.

Also please don't get upset at Catwin shippers for being happy about this. We just wanted to see more of Lukas and George interacting. Most of us are Payneland fans, too and understand that would be the most likely endgame.

[aveadore]

Tumblr, hear out my Arcane thoughts. Some of it is slander, though, so don’t read if it’ll bum you out. In the end, I decided to go with one topic mostly, because I had too much to say.

Spoilers, obviously

Tw: suicide

The way the show handles suicide is SO irresponsible. Call it heroic sacrifice, if you must, but I won’t. The same song that played before, during Jinx’s attempts, played again, during her sacrifice, so the intention is clear.

Do they not realize that so many people that relate to Jinx in some ways are watching it? It’s like they are trying to say: “yes, your intrusive thoughts are right, you are better off not being there. It’s best for your loved ones, if you disappear.” So weird. And, fine, she’s probably not dead. But why hide it? Why not make her end be, openly: “sometimes, you can only heal if you cut everyone off and start anew” Fine. That would be way better. I just can’t believe that such a high profile show, in year 2024, uses suicide in such an irresponsible way. Makes it “cool” looking, gives vulnerable people a playlist, actually. Says “wait a minute, not yet”, and later LETS HER FINISH IT? Wft. Like it’s okay? Like it’s a good end for her?

Isha’s story is also part of this problem. I can’t believe her earlier end was not mentioned later. What was the point of it? Was it a good thing for a seven year old to sacrifice herself? You would think so, they way the show sidesteps the whole thing. The way Jinx is repeating what Isha had done, with no reflection on it. I also have no idea WHY Isha has done it. Was it a consequence of something someone else did, or said? Didn’t seem so. Jinx didn’t really fuck that one up, I think. I thought Isha was jinx’s foil, but it ended up not meaning anything. Was it going to show Jinx her own actions as a child, so she could find some empathy towards Vi? But Isha was not mentioned, so who knows what they were trying to say.

Summary of my other opinions, with no details as it’s too long already:

-I liked Victor and Jayce’s ending. Their relationship had enough time/buildup throughout the whole series to pull of the weight of it. It was a little bit rushed at times, but not as much as the rest of S2.

-I absolutely hated how they handled Cait, and she definitely ended up as my most disliked character.

-Mel was one of my favourites, but her story was the most rushed one is S2. I also wasn’t crazy happy that she also ended up mostly fighting at the end. I have no idea what the Black Rose lady was talking about with the whole empathy thing.

-I really liked episode 7, it was the best one from S2. Because they focused only on Ekko and Jayce, the story had time to breathe. The whiplash between their parts was crazy, but in a good way.

-The way they introduced the third faction, just so all main characters could unite was such a cop-out. The systemic problems were much too big to just be fixed by that, and the show just brushes it all under the rug. And the end is just fighting. Ugh.

-Well, it was obviously very pretty. Every frame a perfect picture and all that. Weird complaint, but some designs were “too good”. Too polished. Too much like a high-end commercial for a new skin that costs 200$. It was so distracting for me :P Especially with some Victor “outfits”

-The biggest, most pervasive problem was the time. So much stuff, so little time. It should have been three seasons. There was no time to breathe, no time to understand what’s going on. Characters running from one massive scene to next, with no build-up in between. Just so everyone can end up similar enough to their LoL variant. A bit disappointing.

[sarbear94]

Because Evan-

(It’s a long one…sorry not sorry 😘)

Okay…. I’ve been rewatching some old Buddie scenes because of the potential of Eddie moving back to El Paso and…. excuse my language but…. What the fuck?

It’s like the writers are new or don’t know what to do with Eddie anymore. Or like someway, somehow the episodes are out of order.

In THAT scene, Buck asks “he has grandparents, family” and Eddie reply’s “After Shannon left, they tried to guilt me into giving Christopher to them. It wasn’t what I wanted then, it’s not what I want now.” They then both agreed that no one would fight harder for Chris than Buck.

So WHY THE FUCK haven’t either of them gotten him back yet??

Eddie started season 7 with Marisol and Chris and everyone’s fine. Then Chris is dating multiple girls (Eddie is baffled and doesn’t know how to handle it so he asks Buck for help) and said it has to do with his mom to Buck and we get that EMOTIONAL shot of Eddie devastated after hearing this. Then proceeds to give him a letter to bring about closure for him. Eddie seemed to already have closure or at least repressed it.

Then Eddie meets Kim…. And the Eddie we have loved for 6 seasons is IMMEDIATELY GONE. He does the exact same thing that he told Buck about Christopher was not okay And needed to be fixed (he was BEGGING Buck for help).

Like, my dude, how did you think this was gonna go? You kept everyone in the dark. Your son, your best friend, your GIRLFRIEND and even Kim! What was his end goal? It doesn’t make any sense.

Like I understand that if Gavin wasn’t gonna be around next season, and you need to write him off but have him potentially come back, there were several ways you could have done that but still kept true to the characters. Have Chris go to a boarding school. Or a school trip. Or literally ANYTHING ELSE! Then season 8, keep the Kim storyline, but Chris is already gone and doesn’t witness it. Cause now that whole confession thing with Kim pretending to be Shannon and actually get closure was pointless. If they’d done that with Chris gone, he’d have the closure. Work on the PTSD crawling back up in an empty house, keep the Priest and finding Joy and then keep that for a bit and then heal.

That was a whole side tangent really for the main point I was trying to make, but why does Eddie- lose Chris, grow a mustache, grieve for not having his son, have an episode where a Priest says “let yourself have Joy,” then take it away in the next couple of episodes by saying “I’m thinking of moving to Texas” based on the words of a psycho actor??

Chris is a TEENAGER! Hell- he might still be a preteen, grow the fuck up and go parent your son. You’ve put your foot down before, why is this any different?? After a few weeks, I would have been like “nope, we’re done with this. I get I fucked up, but I’m still your dad so we are gonna talk about this and figure out some common ground.” I understand feeling guilty and not wanting to push him even farther away but you’re not even trying! Phone calls don’t show “I want you here with me,” it says “I’m okay with you being gone.”

You’re thinking moving to El Paso is a great idea… but it’s not. Your parents suck. You know this. YOU MOVED HALF WAY ACROSS THE US TO GET AWAY FROM THEM FOR A REASON! I get you patched things up slightly, but not enough.

ALSO! Why wasn’t Buck an option?!? Because of Tommy? I get because Gavin being out of the show(temporarily?) would have made that impossible but why wasn’t it even mentioned? I mean, He’s run to him before, he’s called him when Eddie had his breakdown and Chris didn’t know what to do. But like THEY HAD THE WILL, why wasn’t it even a factor in this. At the time, it felt like, at least to Chris, that Eddie was incapable of taking care of him, which means that Chris should go to Buck. Not his grandparents.

I just don’t understand what they are doing with these two. E and C. Bucks got his bisexual journey(relationship with Tommy). Bobby has multiple storylines. The Hans had the Mara and new baby storylines. Hen and Karen had the Ortiz/Mara and Denny/Halloween storylines. Athena has literally any storyline involving cops. And all those storylines make sense for each character. Eddie’s and Chris’s doesn’t. They keep pushing Eddie to be sad then happy then making stupid decisions. DEVELOP YOUR FUCKING CHARACTER! You’ve been dropping the ball since at least the network switch. Which I find super funny because yes, he does the emotional scenes super amazing but now it seems like his character is more open. He’s making more funny faces, he’s got the loose hair, he makes comedic jokes. But he’s almost(so close) to reminding me of Buck 1.0.. but it doesn’t fit with the storyline at all. At least to me…

Like does anyone agree with any of this? Am I just seeing things? Did the writers get told Gavin was leaving too late and made this story on the fly and rolled with it? Does Ryan want out of the show and they are keeping it under wraps? Like WHAT IS HAPPENING? Make it make sense!

Ps. I did not proofread this before posting so if something doesn’t make sense, let me know. I was just trying to get down all my thoughts on this. Currently me vvv

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Loyalties chapter 2🔞

Loyalties Masterlist

Simon was almost sure that hell had to be a one month long leave. His skin itches from not being able to rip and maim any targets. His nerves were jumping because he so desperately needed the structure that was base. He could count on training recruits, doing simulations, anything to exercise the testerone from his system. Before he took his leave he had requested another shot of suppressants and was promptly denied by the base doctor. Now that had irritated him to high hell. Didn't they know that his alpha, unless it was chemically sedated, would want to rip and run free, gnash and gnaw until it felt satisfied? It was suggested that he find relief in a barracks bunny, but the snarl that left his mouth told the doctor to shut up. In the end while it wasn't suppressants he was given, he was instead supplied with relaxants that while wouldn't chemically sedate him, it would keep his instincts calm. Simon could at least appreciate that he wouldn't cause issues or lose his carefully crafted control when he was released into the general public. After all, he was certain that Johnny wouldn't want to be bedridden because Simon tore his ass a literal new hole. He and the Scott , while often intimate, never had sex with Simon off of his suppressants. He didn't want to hurt him and couldn't trust himself to not accidentally knot the poor lad.

“Aye, ye okay Simon?”

Simon was brought out of his thoughts and into the present by Johnny. He only offered a grunt for a response and brought his pint to his mouth for another sip of his beer. The pub that they ended up in was the same one they were regulars at when they were in the city. It was always dimly lit, moderately loud, and always a bit more crowded than he liked and the cocktail of scents made his head hurt. But Klye and Johnny fancied the place and Price actually liked the food here, so he didn't complain about being dragged out by his pack mates.

“If you say so Lt.” Kyle shook his head, “Soap and I were thinking we could do a rage room tomorrow night, we heard some of the recruits talking about it.”

Johnny nodded his head, “yea, an hour to just fuck around an’ smash thing!”

Simon thought it was stupid, why pay for the fake experience when they were paid to actually fuck things up during missions? He didn't understand the novelty of it, because Price was agreeing, saying something about “it seems like a good idea.”

His nose twitches as he scents the air, a habit really of unconsciously searching for danger. But the scent of something sweet cuts through the other smells of salt, beer, musk from other alphas. It was pleasing, made his teeth ache in a way it hadn't ached since he met Johnny. His eyes scan the pub looking for even a hint at what it could be. Whatever it was, had caught the eye of several other alphas and a few betas in the pub, both male and female. The hostess, a slip of a thing, had walked by and following after her were three women, all of them omegas. They were talking to each other, and he recognized from how they carried themselves and the accent and the chosen words of referring to the place as a hole in the wall bar, that they were American. All of them had pretty brown skin and two of them were holding hands, while the third followed behind them. If the walkway was wider, he had no doubt that they all would be side by side holding hands and laughing.

The hostess had shown them to the booth that was right next to theirs and Simon watched as Kyle and Johnny caught a whiff of the women. Johnny, was sitting with his back towards the group of omegas, it was adorable how he tried his best to not turn around and gawk at them. His eyes had caught sight of them, but he so desperately wanted to scent the third woman who had walked past their table. John and Simon were seated facing the booth that the women were at, and for the first time in history, he swore he saw his captain’s nostrils actually flare. He wasn't normally the type to scent places openly, he was the type to do so discreetly by just simply breathing, but this was clearly a deep breath.

“Symphony, are you sure Malik and Aaron are gonna be able to find this place?” The woman who had burnt orange hair asked. She was one of the ones that walked in holding the woman with black hair that was cut into a bob by the hand.

“Gloria girl, if they can't follow Google maps, then they should have gotten off work earlier.”

A waitress had come up to the booth, smiled and asked the women what she could start them with. The ones named Symphony and Gloria both looked at the third woman who had her eyes trained on her phone. Simon was watching her closely even as his pack mates continued to chat about the rage room. But it was clear that all four of them were listening, zeroing in on the table of omegas.

“Bambi, the waitress asked you a question.” Symphony had prodded who was clearly the lead in their group.

Bambi. What a sweet and shy name. Simon kept his eyes on her and took her in. Her pretty brown hair faded to a honey blonde, and when she looked up, Simon was greeted with the lightest brown eyes he had ever seen. Her lips were shiny, gloss probably, eyes lined in deep black eyeliner that swooped up and lids painted in a light shiny pink. American omega girls really did things differently, because coming to a regular pub so dressed up seemed overkill.

“We're starting off with tequila shots, two for us each. And we insist that you bring us something good that you recommend.” Bambi's voice was smooth and sweet but also commanded the listener to pay rapt attention.

The waitress, a beta, shivered and wrote down the order. “We have some of the best fish and chips around if you ladies want to try that!”

Bambi looked at her two companions and they nodded along. “Yeah, whatever works, and after our shots the fruitiest drinks on the menu.”

“Are you ladies celebrating something fun tonight?” The waitress asked, she was planning to upsell them.

They all laughed and Bambi nodded her head, “It's my birthday, I just turned twenty-six and me and my pack mates are gonna do a bar crawl. This is our first stop.”

Johnny grinned when he heard that. It was an in to speak to the nice smelling omega in the booth next to them. Who would turn down free shots ordered by handsome men? The waitress wished Bambi a happy birthday and when she went to put the order in Johnny stopped her.

“Aye lassie, the birthday girl, ya send her and her mates another round of shots from us yea?”

The waitress raised an eyebrow and smirked. She was well aware that the table with the foreigners was about to have drinks sent to them left and right from alphas trying for their attention. And she was about to get tips because of it. “Sure thing hun.” And she went to put the orders in.

Johnny looked at Simon, who still hadn't stopped staring at the booth behind them. So badly he wished he sat next to him instead of across because all he could do was smell the sweet scent coming from those women. Underneath it though, he could scent (and Johnny was sure everyone could scent this), the musk of an alpha. Two of those women were off limits and he prayed it wasn't the one that was wearing what had to be the world's shortest pink dress and a cute little sash that says birthday girl.

“Here are your shots,” the waitress had come back with the nine shots of tequila, “your other drinks are being made now.”

“We only ordered six in total.” Symphony had an edge to her voice.

“Oh the gentlemen behind you sent the extra, for the birthday girl.” She explained.

Johnny pulled a few notes out to slip to the waitress as she walked by. All four of them gave the waitress a knowing look, no other drinks were to be sent to that table unless it was them sending it. The woman of the hour laughed and finally looked directly at Simon and her gorgeous brown eyes slid over to Price.

“Symphony, switch places with me.” Bambi stood up and the woman with the burnt orange hair got up and traded places with her. The two of them traded spots, and Simon and John watched as the girls cheered.

“To twenty-six years and counting! Bless me and bless the shots!” Bambi then downed the shots, three of them back to back. When she was done she turned in her seat and leaned between Johnny and Kyle. She folded her arms across the back of the booth.

Kyle, who had been busy talking, stopped abruptly and turned slightly. “Good evenin’ lass”

“Which one of you darling men sent me and my sisters the extra shots?” She smiled and her eyes were half lidded. With her this close up they could now discern that the musk that accompanied a claimed omega was absent on her.

“From us all yea.” Johnny smiled, “Names Johnny, that's Kyle, John and Simon.” He was all bright and friendly. Simon knew that his boy was going to try his damndest to fuck her this evening (if they were all lucky they would all get a turn, even if that would be a bad idea). He could scent the underlying hint of arousal from him.

“Aw thank you, I'm Bambi.”

“Like the deer?” Johnny teased.

“Maybe,” she batted her eyelashes at him, “but I've been told it's a variant of Bambina. But either way it's a name that sounds good being said when a person cums.”

The sweet voice didn't match the dirty words at all. Johnny's smile widened and Kyle turned to face the girl completely. John cleared his throat, unable to believe she had said that out loud (he was a traditional alpha, and often thought that while omegas garnered respect, they were supposed to be sweet and shy. Bambi was clearly not that.)

Simon however wished he hadn't put his surgical mask back on because he wanted a stronger hit of the arousal that wafted from Johnny, Kyle and Bambi.

“Aren't ye a tease.” Johnny laughed, “how long ye be in England for?”

“Hmm, we're immigrants, following my brother here for work.” She answered carefully.

She was hinting that she was not claimed and the pack she was in was headed by family. She looked at John and smiled. “Love the facial hair set up, it's a very unique and handsome look.”

“Thank you sweetie. I hope you're going to be safe this evening.” John smiled as he brought his mug to his lips.

“I'll be safe.” She watched his neck closely as his adam's apple bobbed while he drank his beer. Smart girl, she already figured out who the alpha of this pack was despite them all having that as a second gender. She licked her lips as she kept eye contact with John and then slowly those brown eyes landed on Simon.

It's rare that Simon feels unrestrained lust at the drop of a pin, but when she looked at him his alpha wanted to desperately growl and find a way to claim her. There was electricity between the five of them and Simon for a second was glad he had the relaxants to help him reel in his instincts (if he had suppressants he wouldn't be able to experience this and all of the full context of this encounter. He's glad he didn't get a suppressant shot). He kept her gaze and nodded his head only once in acknowledgement. She smiled sweetly, pleased at him.

“Bambi, Malik said that he is lost!” The tension was effectively cut as Symphony got her sister’s attention. “The dummy said he can't find the damn bar!”

Bambi rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder, “Did you drop a location pin?”

“I did, but you know he's with Aaron and that damn Aaron is probably leading the way.” Symphony sighed. “He wants one of us to wait outside for them.”

Bambi sighed and slid from her booth. “I'll go outside, you two sit tight and pretty.” She then looked back at John with a sly smile on her face.

John already had one of his infinite cigars out and standing to follow after her. Johnny had a shit eating grin on his face and so did Kyle. Simon was mulling over quietly if he was going to even try to fuck the omega with his pack mates. And boy was that a fucking thought, he declined a barrack bunny, but a nice smelling omega that he just barely met, was where he was willing to cross the line?

There was the sound of a throat clearing and Gloria was looking at the three of them. She raised an eyebrow and smirked, “I hope you fellas don't think Bambi is gonna give it up right away.”

Johnny frowned, deciding to play dumb, “Nae ‘ure what ye are talkin’ bout.”

“Bambi likes to flirt and tease, and you buying us those shots puts you all on her radar.” She chuckled, “if she likes whatever your alpha says to her, then I'm sure you'll all have her number and be in a group chat before the night is over.”

“Does she act like this often?" Kyle asked.

“Hmm, no.” She looked at Symphony, “Sym, when was the last time Bambi even showed intrigue in another alpha?”

“Two years ago I think, and that ended because the alpha didn't like the idea of her calling the shots and at the same time demanded and tried to force her submission.” Symphony shook her head, her eyes still trained on her phone, “I'll be straight up honest, if you just want to get your knots wet be upfront with her. Can't promise she'll go for that though.”

Outside Bambi took in a breath of the early night air. Inside the bar it was suffocating with so many scents, but outside was where she could finally get a clear smell of one of the alphas that caught her attention. John seemed older than what she normally went for. His beard was the first thing she noticed, she was a sucker for facial hair. The smoky scent of his cigar paired with the natural woodsy fresh air that came from him, made her stomach flutter. She leaned against the side of the building and watched as he lit his cigar and took a slow drag from it. He was tall, not as bulky as the one in the black hoodie and black surgical mask. But his muscles were defined. Actually all of them were quite larger than average, not in a body builder way but in a kept physically fit way.

“Who exactly got lost?” He asked her as he exhaled the smoke in rings.

‘What a show off.’ Bambi smiled to herself.

“My older brothers are lost.” She giggled, “they wouldn't be able to find their way out of a paper bag.”

He chuckled and nodded his head, “how are you liking it here so far?”

“I like it alot actually. My folks used to vacation here during the summer and anytime my father needed to check on his business here. You ever heard of Temple Ballistics and Weaponry?”

John looked at her with a raised brow and nodded his head, “I have sweet heart.”

“Yeah, my brother is the CEO and we moved here for his work.” She shrugged her shoulders and shuffled closer to him. She very obviously took a deep breath and stared up at him.

John took a deep breath as well, enjoying the sweet scent of her. She obviously was going to be trouble and knew it. Personally in the past he went for the more demure and shy omegas but something about her scent and flirty personality drew him in. He supposed it was multiple layers of cultural differences that he was already starting to like. He knew American omegas in general were more open and forward, African American omegas from what he heard tended to take charge and demand that their submission be earned. She was not going to just roll over and let him and his pack claim her, not without them asserting dominance.

“What do you do for work?” Bambi asked, “I actually work as a public relations specialist.”

“You do PR?”

“Yes, my other brother and a few of his friends need my services. But I mostly do freelance.”

“I'm in the military. Can't say much more than that.” John smiled down at her.

“Hmm,” she leaned up off the wall and faced him completely. She was sizing him up, her gaze drifting down to his chest and then right before she got to his waist, those brown eyes were back on his. “You don't sit behind a desk do you?”

“Not often, no.” John thought she was a smart girl. And observant to boot. He finally took in her full body, she was thick like most omegas, her thighs looked soft and jiggly. She had a slight stomach pooch that was just barely noticeable in the short pale pink dress she wore. Her legs were bare and seemed to go on forever due to her matching pink platform pumps. Nothing about her was traditional, but John knew he was willing to overlook that. He was willing to do that because she was a deviation from the norm that he has experienced. That and the fact that she was sending his alpha howling, it made his blood run hot and he needed to know why. Why was she different?

“And I suspect the other three are what both your pack mates and subordinates?”

Another drag of his cigar and slow exhale, “How do you figure that?”

“You military men are all the same. You form packs based on rank and relationships built through training and battle.” She nodded her head like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Do you know anyone in the military?” He asked.

“No, but my brother does and I've heard stories from him, especially when he talks about the contracts he's allowed to complain about.” She laughed.

“You're a smart girl.” John was surprised when she preened from his compliment, the soft trill of a purr made him lean in closer to her. He was gently invading her space, backing her up to the wall again. Trying to subtly test the waters. His alpha was scratching at the back of his mind, quietly pleased by her response to him.

“I know I am John.” She placed a dainty manicured hand against his chest. Gripping his shirt and pulling him forward and closer. She wanted him to invade her space, blocking her from the view of people passing by them.

“You are certainly going to be trouble aren't you?” He whispered as he leaned in closer to her. She tilted her head up, but was careful not to lean over and expose her scent gland too much. Bambi, he realizes, will not be offering that to him unless he and his boys worked for it.

“Maybe I can be trouble for you and your pack.” Bambi was doing her best to suppress the shiver from John being so close. There were not very many alphas that she was attracted to, but when passed by his table she knew she had to at least try. She blamed it on the fact that her mother and father's and her uncle's dynamics set the bar high. And seeing how her brothers treated Gloria and Symphony over the past years made her want the same thing. But most alphas, be they men or women, always fell short of her expectations. John and his group looked like they may be able to successfully earn her submission and understand that she would not just be rolling the fuck over. They seemed strong, disciplined and they all probably worked well together.

John placed his free hand on her cheek and then slowly slid it down to just straight up hold her neck. He didn't apply pressure, just held her, just to feel her pulse quicken. His alpha was screaming at him to just mark her, pleased that she was even letting him do this. It's never acted up like this before. He glanced down at her lips and then back at her eyes. “What exactly is your scent Bambi?”

“I've been told I smell like cocoa butter with a hint of vanilla.” She whispered as she stared up at him with doe-like eyes.

Fuck he wanted to kiss her and then press his nose against her neck.

“BamBam we found you!”

Bambi snapped her head to the right and pushed John away from her gently. Coming down the sidewalk, finally were her three brothers instead of two. She scowled at the fact that they ruined her moment with John. Actually, why were all three of her brothers here? She was only expecting two. John took a respectful couple of steps away from her and breathed in deep. The cool air around them both smelt slightly of arousal and he was sure the three men approaching them could smell it too.

“BamBam, just for the record, we would have been here sooner if it wasn't for Aaron.” The young man who had shoulder length dreads smiled and scratched the back of his head.

“Way to throw me under the bus Malik.” The other young man who was tall but slender punched Malik in the arm. “If we didn't take a detour to grab Xavier even though he said he didn't want to come, we would have been here earlier.”

The last one, who was wearing a black balaclava (there was a heart and a flower stitched on the right cheek of the fabric), was staring directly at John. He didn't look too happy about what they all stumbled on. Out of the three alphas, he was the only one that was somewhat bulked up. They were all quite tall but the two that were arguing were lithe in their build.

“For fucks sake.” Bambi sighed and their petty arguing stopped, “get your asses inside, I'll be there in a moment and we can get the night going.”

Malik and Aaron, John assumed both looked at Bambi and muttered fine. They gave John a once over but did not say anything and just went inside. The only one not moving was the one in the balaclava. He slowly looked towards Bambi, a low rumble of a growl could be heard. It made his back straighten and John put out his cigar, but before he could say anything to diffuse the situation Bambi spoke up.

“Xavier, glad to have you but I really don't need an opinion.” Bambi was no longer the sweet and flirty woman from even five minutes ago. She was commanding the alphas in her pack. Xavier huffed, shoved his hands into his pant pockets and meandered inside.

John found it to be a strange dynamic. He wasn't sure how his boys would handle a bossy little omega. He could imagine Soap would lean into it seeing as how he came from a family of women. Maybe his Kyle would tolerate it. But Simon and him would want her to know who was in charge at all times. Then again, siblings in a pack wouldn't need to earn or give submission and dynamics looked different in packs where the parents weren't around.

“Sorry about them, they don't know how to mind their manners or business.” She turned her sweet smile back at him. “Can I have your number John?” Once again she batted her eyelashes up at him and he found himself helpless to say anything other than yes.

So they exchanged numbers, he watched as she put a cute pink heart next to his name. “If this is the type of pack that I think it is, share my number with the rest of them.”

“Will do Miss Bambi.”

She leaned up and kissed his cheek before she went back into the pub. John immediately sent the contact information to the group chat and right after made a group chat with the five of them.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Two - To the Stars

Part One is Linked Below

—

When people speak about cultural differences, they expect some language barriers and mishaps because of how you were raised. Sticking four people of not only different cultures but different age groups on a rocket not destined to return to Earth might not have been the brightest of ideas, but they were some of the best pilots that Earth had to offer and the ones with the least attachments. Both those combined made it seem like the perfect idea, differences be damned.

Hound was originally from California but was a military brat, so he spent the better part of his life in the culture of the US military, enlisting himself at eighteen and not looking back. When the pilot program came around, he set himself on the long list of volunteers to see if he’d be compatible with Mecha or not. When he eventually was found compatible, he was shipped off to the research center to work on a special Mecha, one that was made more to confuse the alien than to destroy it, perfect illusions and the perfect decoy. That was back when everyone still thought we had a fighting chance. He’d had his suit for years and its overhaul for space fairing was just par for the course of how his career had gone. Pilot 1124; divorced, no children, mother deceased, and father career military. Near perfect candidate for Arcturus mission.

Breakdown was from what is once again Ukraine, growing up behind the iron curtain left him at a slight disadvantage when it came to understanding the Mecha Suits. He was initially pulled into the Soviet program while under mandatory conscription, it was just a few months before his two years were up, but when he was found to be compatible with a recently vacated suit there was no questions on who would fill it. The solitude of working in a suit appealed to him, cause when you’re in the suit and turn down radio communications, it’s like it’s just you and the enemy you’re tearing apart. Very fitting for him. His suit has gone through many renditions both before and after the fall of the curtain, even its adjustments by Mecha, on semi-permanent loan; were normal. He just tried to make sure his cockpit remained the same, it was the environment he became the most familiar with, even more than his apartment in Kiev. Pilot 1457; no wife, no children, mother and father reside in Kiev, Ukraine; siblings vary. Non-perfect candidate, cooperation with former Soviet Union mandatory. Candidate for Arcturus mission.

Sunsteaker and Sideswipe were civilians from Florida, no previous family enlistments of record, no prior record of draft selection. These two came about later in the program, hand selected by Mecha for military training and transfer to the primary facility. When the boss saw their shining personalities at a not-so-legal street race, it was practically love at first sight. Being younger when the aliens first attacked had left both with scars in both literal and figurative senses, being compatible with vacated suits that often worked in tandem made them the right choices for the selection. Neither suit was particularly powerful, but both were considered abnormally fast. With limited options in their previous region of residence and mutual desire to make a difference, candidacy was the only feasible option. They more often than not work together and are currently heading towards the record of most take downs by tandem units. Overhaul was limited, newer suits without much need for adjustment. Pilot 2450 and 2451; no wives, no children, mother deceased, father deceased, siblings enlisted together, perfect candidates for Arcturus mission.

For a mission that wasn’t meant to go well, picking the right candidates was key. For each of the missions, three of them were already planned out of course. The work on the Mecha needed to be started as soon as the first batch were done, they didn’t to be able to sustain a human life for at least a year in space plus more intense gravity that what existed on earth, as a precaution. You didn’t know where these things could or would crash once a pilot was dead inside, if recovery efforts could be made in a hand full of decades for the suits that saved the earth, that could turn a major profit in a hand full of years. Limited or no connections for these pilots was important. It was bad enough that Jazz had some family that needed paying off and he was meant to come back with data for the Arcturus missions, he was meant to go back up on Arcturus One. Well, there wasn’t much use in looking at the past, not when there was an enemy to annihilate.

The day of the launch was the first time in several years that when suiting up for a mission, none of the pilots put on the assistant suits, but flight suits for the shuttle. Each was still colored in the tones of their corresponding Mecha, helmets on to hide a majority of their features and numbers sat right below their name badges. It was the wait that was practically killing them, sat inside a giant warehouse with nothing to keep their mind off the endless expanses of space. No one could be bothered with trying to face them, for those who didn’t pilot a suit they could never understand the sacrifice and those that did were being kept away. Life and death, the state of the world as they knew it could lay on their shoulders and the data that their suits would collected and send back to earth while they hurdled towards their potential doom.

“Do you think Jazz felt like this? His last night before bugging out?” Sideswipes voice was both muffled and painfully loud, coming through their helmets while being muffled in the echoing space.

“It’s possible, but he didn’t have to deal with the fan fair of the last few weeks, so maybe not. He might have gotten a decent night sleep and woke up, ready to face the stars.” Hound leans his head back to stare at the glass ceiling, the sky was almost too blue out there. The type of day when those things would attack without mercy, he shudders slightly.

“You think the others will be able to handle the fight while we’re gone?” Now Sunstreaker was asking the dumb questions, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his needs, helmet in hands, “Losing four of us is a lot.”

“They will be fine Kid, losing four for a specific region is easier to cover than four deaths spastically.” Breakdown’s voice was the very stereotypical, learning English from movies, that tone that actors of the seventies and eighties had when over exaggerating their words. His ankles were crossed and he was leaned back comfortably in the chair, eyes closed though hidden by the helmet.

There was silence for a few seconds, before Hound cleared his throat, “Besides, if any of us kicked the bucket in our mechs, half of ours are outdated and would be out of commission for a while and the other half are far to specialized to get compatible pilots for straight off the list.” Rubbing his shoulder, he shrugs a bit. Sideswipe looks over, “Everyone said the same thing about First Aid’s mech, that freak of nature seems to not want to let go of that guy.” In some manner, they all hum, nodding or grunting, “Sometimes the suit just knows when it has the right pilot.” Breakdown’s tone was final, meaning that the conversation should end there.

“You think we’ll find him though, right? We’re heading on the same flight path.” Sunstreaker looks to Hound, fingertips lightly grasping the bottom edge of his helmet, “I don’t know. We can only hope.” Then they fell to silence again, they’d have enough time to talk each others ear off for the rest of their lives, no matter how long that would take, they’d have the rest of them together now whether they liked it or not. Sideswipe lightly grasps Sunstreaker’s shoulder, Hound goes back to staring and frowning at the sky, while Breakdown stares at his boots.

—

It took a while for them to get called to their action places, as if this was a film set and not a launch pad. There was nothing for miles out here, but the sheer number of camera’s recording their last steps on earth was part of the plan. Plan for funding, plan for advancement, and plan for god knows what else. The boss with his dazzling smile stayed away, watching from afar, leaned against a car far nicer than any pilot would be able to afford even with their insane salaries. The warehouse with its glass roof wasn’t far from the specially crafted launch pad, that was supposedly brand new but already covered in scorch marks from Jazz’s under the rug mission. None of the pilots said anything though, the money that was just minutes away from hitting the bank accounts of those they cared about most was to important. And those without loved ones, well they didn’t want to take it away from the other pilots and their families.

Walking in a line, they didn’t say anything, staring at the shuttle with the slightly folded Mecha attached to it, the cone on the front to cover them all making it appear like a giant umbrella was covering them from a non-existent rain storm. The launch pad was recessed into the ground, to prevent some of the damaging fuels from leaching or spreading onto the nearby land. If there was one thing Mecha was trying to seem, it was conscious of the planet they protected. The lift was just big enough for the four of them and an operator to fit on it, that and a camera trying to get their closeups perfect. Hound lightly shoved the hovering camera robot, trying to stay focused. Sideswipe chuckled lightly, adjusting his flight suit a bit, Sunstreaker shoves him slightly and shakes his head. It was starting to feel normal, the prep for this mission, at least this part was not dissimilar to going out in a suit for a fight. The lift jars to a stop, sending them stumbling lightly as the gate opens to the gantry, the ship’s primary door standing open and waiting. Looking at each other, they step put and to the ship.

Each seat was marked with their call sign, designating their set position, the in cabin cameras rolling for the launch. A airlock to the cargo bay was blocking the view of the specially made gangways into the suits, designed to attach to the alerted entranced into their piloting stations. No longer would the suits slip open to take in a pilot, now only had one entrance and exit; when shut it was hard to tell there was an entrance to the suits at all. The last thing Mecha wanted was whatever this enemy was plucking their pilots out of the cockpits in space, it was bad enough they were figuring that out planet side. Strapping into their seats, the airlock was closed by the lift operator with a whispered ‘good luck’. Pilots stuck together even through the stupidest moments. Like taking the fight into unfamiliar territory that had already claimed on of their own.

Before the microphones were turned on, there were quiet murmured prayers and declarations of revenge, Jazz’s name on all their lips for a moment before Hound turned the switch to activate the microphones. Calling out flight preparations and getting the shuttle ready to launch itself, four mech suits, and pilots into the vastness of space; was almost intimidating.

It was like any other mission to space, whenever astronauts were heading to the ISS, it was almost like that. Only they weren’t stopping in orbit and were going farther than almost any human had before, it would be easy, or so said the boss. God he was awful. The engined ignited with a roar and a harsh tug as gravity attempts to keep the rocked tethered to the planet. Each pilot was watching their given system, no longer worried about the cameras or those listening, focused on each other and the mission. With the pull and the radio traffic, the assent into space would become a blur for all of them, not bothering staring out the windows and focused entirely on their equipment. Space and the fight of a life time laid in front of them.

—

A loss of contact was expected, planned even, it was usual on the other side of the moon. They could speak freely, though their instruments were still the priority, “Did any of you think about the fact we’re going to be stuck together for, who knows how long? Cause that just occurred to me.” Sideswipe was now staring out the window as the lunar surface that none of them would get to touch, frowning slightly as the tinted shield of his helmet was clearing away from the harsh sunlight of the southern sky they’d been in, now hours ago. His brother turned to look at him, “I reminded you what this mission was, several times, over the last year and it’s just now occurring to you?” The tone was one of almost hate, the kind of hate you could only have when your sibling was being an absolute moron, “Well, yeah. I didn’t really listen to your rants.” The first thing thrown in zero-g was an iPod, still hitting Sideswipes helmet but not as harshly as Sunstreaker would have preferred.

Breakdown felt like putting his helmeted head through the console in front of his, “This is going to be the longest mission ever.” Removing his helmet, he rubs his face, looking to Hound who’d already taken his off, “You can say that twice.” As a helmet was thrown across the cockpit of the shuttle, “A very, very long mission.” Both the older men glanced back at the bickering twins, who had now unstrapped from their seats and tumbled back towards the main hold and their suits where artificial gravity would help them fight each other better. The loss of contact was normal, primarily because they knew that this first stretch of the mission would either succeed or fail. Data was still getting sent back to earth, slowing in its response the further away they got from the planet. It was normal, it was totally fine, things would be fine. At least, they kept telling themselves that.

The view out the front glass was of infinite space, Jazz’s last coordinates logged into their system for a potential recovery of his mech and a hopeful anticipation of finding wherever those aliens called home. Or even just their own launch point, since no one knew where or how they kept coming to earth, to many questions with even fewer answers.

A loss of contact was normal. They lost contact with Jazz and his mech after two weeks of him in space. It would be way harder to lose contact with a shuttle and four mech’s, right?

———

A/N:

Wow, thank you so much for enjoying the first part! I promise that part 3 is going to follow. I don’t know how many of these I am going to write, or where it’s exactly going, but the four people aboard the shuttle are out for revenge. On who? They aren’t entirely sure, but whoever is holding Jazz is likely it, right?

Anyways, next part will probably dive more into their mission, and likely the loss of contact with Earth. Who knows how they get to Cybertron, hehehe. All the boss knows is that Arcturus One merch is selling like hot cakes, they can fake contact for a little while with the tech they possess, plus Arcturus Two takes off in less than a year! So they got to get ready for that.

Hope you all enjoyed.

Specifically want to tag @lunarlei68 & @whirlywhirlygig for re-blogging the first post. If you haven’t read it, it’s linked.

Thank you @keferon for inspiring us all with this.