#the batter is just adopting more kids at these points

[mothscotch]

Day 13: Au/Fangame/Crossover

poor frisk, surrounded by weapons !

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "Okay ha ha, very funny. Who stole me and Charlie's laundry out of the dryer again- Angel Dust!"

Angel Dust: "Wasn' me."

Vaggie: "Are you wearing my fucking skirt!?"

Angel Dust: "Ooooh~ it's a FUCKIN' skirt, huh? This one kept special for when Charlie jumps ya?"

Vaggie: "Que te la pique un pollo- NO."

Angel Dust: "Aw c'mon toots, we all know you have one~"

Vaggie: "Give me back. My skirt. You. Ass."

Angel Dust: "Speakin' of... is it really still YOUR skirt, Vagina, if MY ass is the one lookin' so utterly fine and fabulous in it?"

Vaggie: "YOU DONT HAVE AN ASS, ANGEL DUST."

Angel Dust: "Yeah? Then what's this beautiful thang here, hmm?"

Vaggie: "I don't know because there's nothing there for you to even POINT at, twig twink!"

Husk: "HA!"

Angel Dust: "Ugh fiiine. Since you're being nice an' usin' my preferred pronouns-"

Vaggie: "Twig???"

Husk: "Twink."

Angel Dust: "-I'll hand over the girlfriend-fucking skirt. The delicius heat from the dryer's mostly gone now anyway. Jus' lemme grab something to throw on over it first..."

Vaggie: "Seriously? THAT'S why you took it?? Dryer heat?"

Angel Dust: "Next best thing to hot bath at the end of a day's hard work, baby! A day's VERY hard, throbbing, aching work-"

Vaggie: "I will throw this spear at you. I WILL ruin your stupid hair."

Husk: "Fucking do it."

Vaggie: "YOU shut up too. You're the one who taught him this in the first place, aren't you?"

Husk: "WHAT? I don't put on your fucking skirts!"

Angel Dust: "Wha' about her non-fucking ones?"

Husk & Vaggie: "Shut up."

Angel Dust: "Touché~ Protestin' too much, me thinks~”

Vaggie: "Husk- we all know you're the one waiting for the dryer to finish so you can drag the laundry onto the floor and sleep on it!"

Husk: "That's bullshit- you've got no proof-"

Angel Dust: "Cat hair, Mr. Whiskers."

Husk: "The fucking hotel has a cat!"

Vaggie: "That smells like a bar and also sheds feathers?"

Husk: "FUCK."

Angel Dust: "Don't break yourself up over it, kitten daddy- If you hadn't shown me the joys of laundry shopping, I'd never have known how GOOD I look in this jacket."

Vaggie: "???? You- IS THAT CHARLIE'S!?!?"

Angel Dust: "Goes good with the skirt, huh? If you two had a kid, they'd fucking SLAY."

Vaggie: "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING HER JACKET"

Angel Dust: "Look- she's the only one in this fancy prancy hotel that's got the same measurements as me, at least in the shoulder, hips, and torso department! The only one who's clothes don't smell like dead deer and dusty old radios, anyway!! I'm kinda low on options here, okay?"

Vaggie: "WHAT ABOUT THE OPTION OF DON'T StEAL OUR STUFF?? THAT'S LIKE, THE EASIEST FUCKING OPTION YOU COULD HAVE!"

Angel Dust: "Orrrrr, you two could adopt me as you gay lovechild and give me some fuckin' hand me downs. Or money."

Vaggie: “OUR WHAT!?”

Angel Dust: “Fuck it, give me money an’ I’ll buy my own clothes, mom.”

Vaggie: “I. Am. NOT-”

Charlie: “-hey guys! Has anyone seen my….”

Charlie: “…uh, Vaggie? Why is Angel Dust dressed like our gay lovechild?”

Angel Dust: “HA!”

Charlie: “And did he just call you ‘mom??’”

Vaggie: “I give up. Anyone needs me, I’ll be in the laundry room, shoving myself in the dryer on the hellfire setting.”

Husk: “You’ll have to fucking drag Niffty out first.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “What?”

Angel Dust: “WHAT”

Husk: “She was crawling in head first when I left after waking up- uhh- after getting something.”

Angel Dust: (shrieking) “AN’ YOU LEFT HER THERE???”

Vaggie: “Oh shit-”

Charlie: “Vaggie- go! Fly!! Go go go now Now NOW- EMPLOYEE IN THE INDUSTRIAL CLEANING EQUIPMENT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!”

- meanwhile, in the laundry room-

THUMP THUMP THUMP

THUMP…. Thump………… thump

Alastor: “…”

Alastor: (reaches over to knock on dryer door)  

Alastor: “Having fun, dear?”

Niffty: (flopping limply half out of dryer) (battered) (scorched) (GRINNING) “Ow pain!”

Alastor: “Quite.”

Niffty: “Heheheh… heHEHEHEH.”

Niffty: (sets the dryer to max again) “More…. PAIN!!!” (shuts door from the inside) (grins from other side with her face pressed against the glass)

Alastor: “Fascinating.”

Thump…Thump. Thump. THUMP THUMPTHUMP-

Cherri Bomb: “…”

Cherri Bomb: “…Know what? You kids have fun. I’m just gonna go, like, break into someone’s house and murder them so I can use their washer and dryer. That’ll be less fucked up than….. whatever this is.” (hefts basket of bloody laundry and bombs) (waves over her shoulder while leaving) “Bye~”

[biancabi]

Jason: *Walking around the living room with a book until tripping over something*

Tim: *Lying on the ground being the "something" Jason tripped over*

Jason: What the fuck, Replacement?

Tim: Sleep is overrated and I don't need it!!

Jason: Of course, that clarifies everything. What do you think if we make the consumption of peanuts illegal too?

Tim: Actually that would be pretty fantastic-

Jason: No, I was being sarcastic. Why the hell are you on the ground?

Tim: I'm trying to test a theory about how inertia acts on bodies-

Jason: *Raising an eyebrow* You fell and you're too tired to get up, right?

Tim: ...

Tim: ....yes.

-

Jason: *Yelling* Can someone tell me why the hell the kitchen is covered in waffle batter everywhere??

Steph: *With a stack of fifty waffles at her side* We're making waffes, obviously

Jason: And you had to dirty Alfie's entire kitchen for that??

Steph: It's just a little disaster, he won't even notice.

Jason: He doesn't notice the flour on the floor, eggs on the windows and dough on the ceiling??

Steph: You're making it sound more serious than it is.

Jason: Don't fuck, goldie.

-

Jason: *Entering dramatically* Alright little bitches, which one of you takes my copy of Pride and Prejudice??

Dick: I haven't seen your book, littlewing

Duke: Don't you have like a ten copies of that book?

Jason: First, I have fifteen copies of Pride and Prejudice. Second, they took my special anniversary copy. So which one of you has it??

Dick: Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?

Jason: No, I looked everywhere in this damn manor and it's NOT there.

Duke: Man, it's practically impossible for you to have covered the entire manor, I tried but I got tired after 5 hours. 5 HOURS!! AND I ONLY WENT THROUGH THE EAST WING.

Jason: THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WHO HAS MY BOOK?!

Dick: *Replying to Duke* I don't know, after getting lost in the hallways I never tried to navigate the manor again.

Jason: HEY! RESPOND BEFORE I START TAKING THE BULLETS OUT!

Duke: *Excited* What if there is some type of ghost or entity that is hidden in the hallways?

Dick: That wouldn't be so strange, I mean, this manor is very old.

Jason: IT DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE ANY DAMN GHOSTS. I WANT MY BOOK.

Duke: Just think about it, what if the ghost took your book??

Jason: *Taking out their guns* This is it, it's bullet time.

-

Bruce: Jason, could you explain to me why my living room is full of bullet holes?

Jason: Whoa, old man. If we think about it technically, everything is your fault.

Bruce: Pardon?

Jason: I think it's actually Alfred you should apologize to, but I guess I accept your apology.

Bruce: *Take a deep breath* Jason, how is this my fault?

Jason: *Moving his hands indifferently* I mean, if you hadn't adopted seven of us your living room wouldn't be covered in bullet holes. So technically it's your fault.

Bruce: ...

Jason: You know, you should have stopped at kid number two.

-

Jason: *Holding Damian by the neck like a kitten* Why the hell did you jump out of the batmobile? Were you even thinking???

Damian: *Squirming* I was trying to get out of the terrible experience of you driving alive. We almost crashed and died AGAIN.

Jason: Oi demon brat, Just so you know we almost collided because you jumped out the window suddenly.

Damian: This wouldn't have happened if I had been driving.

Jason: *Exasperated* Your feet can't even reach the brakes. How do you think-

*They both freeze when they hear police sirens, they look at each other and back at the crashed Batmobile.*

Jason: Did you know? Bruce doesn't need to know this.

Damian: This is the first time I agree with you Todd, we don't have to bother Father with little things.

Jason: *Escaping from the place* Yes yes yes, definitely

[unfair-water-plane]

So one thing that has always made me chuckle in ME2 is the fact that Kal’Reegar is a marine in a Quarian suit. And he fits in with Shepard easily, the same attitude and headspace and cadence (for mShep at least). And I’m sitting here at work and the thought just hit me.

What if that’s because he is a marine in a Quarian suit?

Hear me out. Kal is older than Tali, or at least gives off those vibes, and so he would have been on his pilgrimage a while ago. Like maybe right after first contact. And here are these brand new people who came out of nowhere and had apparently enough fire power and attitude to give the Turians a very brief pause. The whole galaxy wants to know more. And humanity has no idea who is out there, but surely they can’t all be like the creepy bird people?

Cue one very curious Quarian in Shanxi, just as curious an out humanity as humanity is about everything. Meeting with early alliance brass, giving them information common palace to any kid with an extranet feed but wholly new to humanity. He explains that the Quarian don’t have ground forces because they don’t have a ground, and is honest about the geth, and is like ‘so how did you make the Turian Hierarchy freak out?’

And somehow ends up observing basic training, and falls in love with it. To the point where he actively asks to go through marine boot camp in Hanshan, and is just earnest and endearing enough to be allowed. So he goes through it, puts in the work and the blood and sweat and tears and makes the kinds of friends that you sort of have on the Flotilla, but everyone also knows you are all going to separate ships eventually and getting attached is hard.

But the humans will pack bond with a robot vacuum without issue, and when they meet a Quarian who wants to learn and thinks it’s amazing that they stood up to the biggest military in the galaxy running on old fashioned rocketry and spite? The marines adopt him as one of their own. They are brothers, something most single child Quarians have no experience with, and Kal gives it back in spades. He talks like them, fights like them, jokes and learns and is like them.

And when it is over and they graduate, it’s hard to turn down the offer to stay. But humanity respects the loyalty to his people that takes him back to the fleet, and it almost brings him to tears when his graduating class passes a cap for his passage back to the fleet in more comfort than sitting on a box in a volus cargo ship.

It actually brings him to tears when his drill instructor informs him that while it might not be in great shape, Arcturus has authorized them to gift Kal’Reegar with a battered but space worthy corsair and an official greeting from the Systems Alliance to the Migrant Fleet.

The SSV Jarhead is perhaps the best gift anyone is his age range can give to a future captain, though his practical military experience is a gift to the whole fleet. It catapults him through the Quarian military, from for soldier to instructor to commander, and somewhere he hopes that his brothers and sisters are as proud of them as he is of every transmission that makes it back to him.

On Haestrom, that training keeps him alive long enough to watch his squad die, and that cuts like nothing else. But he can’t stop, because the principle is still depending on him, and until his suit gives out he has to fight to her.

But then the voice cuts through the chatter of his own mind, and he *knows it*. Knows the cadence and the phrasing, knows how a human mouth forms the phrases that he has spent years trying to teach. Commander Shepard might not be a marine, but they are a human combat specialist and the fraternity is there.

Maybe it’s just three more people who are going to die for this fools errand, but somehow Kal doesn’t think so. There are two bone deep beliefs that he will carry it’s him to either the home world or the afterlife, and it has always felt appropriate to him that they rhyme. That they sound similar, when he breathes them into the air.

Keelah Salai. Semper Fi.

[myymi]

“Sonic!” The mentioned hedgehog’s ear twitched at the call of his name, a single eye opening so he could look for who was calling for him.

It was Tails. The small fox was running towards him, a smile on his muzzle that Sonic could see clearly from his spot in the tree.

With a smile of his own forming, the teen hopped down from his perch. He stretched his arms up above his head as he watched the kit run up to him.

“Ms. Amy helped me make you something!” Tails’ smile was just about as wide as it could be as he came to a stop before the hedgehog, cupping his paws behind his back. The older couldn't help but chuckle at him, raising a brow once he noticed the batter-like substance that clung to the fur on his cheek.

He had a pretty good idea what that something is.

“Yeah?” Sonic asked softly, taking the kit’s chin in his paw to look at the batter. He licked his thumb before running it over the younger’s cheek, wiping away the batter. It smelled like chocolate.

Tails’ face scrunched up at the action, grimacing at the wet feeling running over his cheek. When the hedgehog was finished he wiggled out of his hold, using the back of his paw to wipe his cheek.

Sonic snorted as he wiped his paw on his leg, “Would that something happen to be a cake of some sort, buddy?”

“It's a surprise, Sonic!” Tails reminded, crossing his arms with a pout. The teen shook his head before raising his paws defensively–he's learned it's best to play along when his little brother adopts an attitude.

“Right, my bad.” Sonic closed his eyes and covered them with his right paw, extending the left one out to the younger. “Go on, take me to my top secret surprise, buddy.”

“You can't close your eyes now, Sonic.” The fox groaned, raising to his tiptoes to tug on the paw covering the older’s eyes. “We've gotta get to Ms. Amy's house first!” Sonic isn't sure why the kid kept calling her ‘Ms. Amy,’ she was only four years older than him. But he refused to drop the title, so they just kinda went with it. He'd grow out of it. Probably.

“Ohh, right. Obviously.” Deciding he wanted to mess with the kid a little bit more, he glanced down at the fancy little watch the fox made him. Taking note of the direction they needed to head to reach Amy's house, he turned and started walking in the opposite direction. “Let's go, then! Can't wait to–”

“Sonic!” Tails tightened his hold on the other's arm, pointing in the correct direction. “Her house is that way!”

“What? No way! it's definitely this way, li’l bro.” Sonic tugged his arm back just hard enough to pull the fox towards him a little.

Tails huffed at the action and spun his tails, taking to the air and quickly pulling the hedgehog up with him.

“Woah, woah, okay!” Sonic laughed, reaching up to pat the kid's paws. “I'll go the right way, promise.”

The kit’s eyes narrowed at his brother, but he ended up choosing to believe his word. He lowered the teen back to the ground, glancing at his own communicator to double check that he was right about the direction.

Sonic laughed and reached up to the flying fox, gently ruffling his bangs. The kit swatted his hand away, dropping to land beside him. His paws wrapped around his brother’s wrist once again so he could drag him down the path and back to the pink hedgehog’s house.

“Ease up on me, will ya, bud?” Sonic asked, though he didn't really care. He just wanted to be annoying. The fox rolled his eyes as he continued to pull his brother along. “It was an honest mistake!”

“Be happy you're still getting your gift.” Sonic wasn't really sure if it was normal for six year olds to grumble, but he figured it was best if he stopped pushing his luck. The kid had a pretty mean bite if provoked. Literally.

It was a short trip back to Amy's house. Sonic hadn't gone far on purpose, knowing the fox was still a little on edge being near others without him. It'd been a good few hours though, so he thinks it's safe to say the kiddo likes Amy.

“Found him!” Tails called out once they entered the house, letting go of the hedgehog’s wrist. He hurried to the kitchen to find the girl.

“Good!” Amy smiled sweetly at the fox as she carefully picked up a stand that held a small cake. “We worked really hard on this!”

Sonic couldn't help but snicker as he leaned against the doorway, “Figured it was a cake or something. Little guy carried some evidence in his fluff.” The kid shot him a glare, rolling his eyes when the teen winked at him.

“Well, when you have fun while baking it tends to get a bit messy.” The girl defended, walking over to present the treat to the older. “Now here!”

The cake was simple. It was small and circular, covered in a royal blue frosting with a line of bright red framing the bottom of the cake. The words ‘We Love You, Sonic!” were drawn out in, mostly, white frosting, with the ‘W’ being pink and the first ‘E’ being yellow.

Sonic could feel his heart swell up at the sight of it. It was typical of Amy to give him pastries with messages similar to this, but it was a new thing for Tails.

They didn't really vocalize their ‘I love you’s, it was just something between that went without saying. And while this wasn't technically saying it, he knew that the kid had to muster up a lot of courage for it.

With that knowledge, he carefully sped behind Amy to where the little fox was standing and trapped him in a hug. Tails squeaked at sudden contact, but started laughing when the hedgehog nuzzled his head.

“You did the decorating, didn't ya?” He asked, resting his chin atop the younger’s head. “It's just screaming you.”

“It's meant to represent you, Sonic,” Tails informed, trying his best to look up at the teen from their position.

“And it was a team effort, mister!” Amy scolded, huffing as she sat the stand on the counter. “We both baked and decorated it for you.”

“You know I'm just teasing, Ames.” Sonic sent the girl a grin, finally letting go of his little brother with a quick head ruffle, “It looks great though, really. Thanks.”

“Of course!” The pink hedgehog clapped her hands together excitedly and turned to the fox, “It was a pleasure to bake with Tails! He's really good.”

The youngest shrunk into himself at the compliment, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ as his cheeks flushed red.

Amy smiled at him but decided to pivot away from his embarrassment, “Go ahead and sit down, I'll cut the cake!”

Sonic didn't argue with her and sat down at the table. Tails pushed a chair over so he could sit closer to his hero before climbing onto it.

“So, what flavoring did you two use, big guy?” The teen asked, emphasizing the 'two' so Amy knew he was crediting the both of them.

Tails giggled at his brother and looked over to the counter, “It's mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint, huh?” Sonic raised a brow, just barely managing to repress his snicker at the choice. “You sure this is for me?”

“No, the mint's for me. You won't eat the whole cake anyways.” The kit admitted looking down to his paws as he toyed with his gloves, his legs gently kicking as he waited for the treat.

“That is what's mainly for you.” Amy said as she sat the cake stand onto the table, nodding over to a small box on the counter next to the sink. “It's stuff for chili dogs for you two to cook later.”

“Oh, Ames, you didn't have to do that.” Sonic rubbed the back of his neck. He's mentioned struggling a little to get himself full meals with Tails tagging along, but he didn't mean to make her think she had to supply his food.

“It's no problem, Sonic!” The girl simply waved him off before using her knife to carefully pick up a slice of the cake and set it on Tails’ plate. “He mentioned how you guys have been cooking together lately and it's so cute!”

“Oh, yeah, it's a blast.” The teen decided to run with the topic change, setting his elbow on the table so he could rest his chin on his paw. “Little guy's pretty good. Won't be too long til he ends up being better than me.”

“Nuh uh! No way,” Tails firmly shook his end at that statement, moving around so he could sit on his knees to be taller. “I couldn't ever be better than you, Sonic.”

“No talking like that in my house, young man!” Amy scolded the fox with a stern look, reaching over to poke the tip of his nose. “I won't stand for it. Now let's enjoy this cake.”

Tails didn't argue, instead listening to the girl's command and taking a small bite of his slice of cake. He hummed around his fork, his twin tails wagging gently in delight.

Sonic wasn't surprised that the kid liked it. He'd eat anything mint flavored.

Meaningless conversation flowed between the three of them easily as they ate the cake. Sonic was glad that Tails was able to talk with someone other than him so effortlessly. It had been a long process, but they were making progress and that's all he cared about.

It didn't matter how long it'd take. His patience was endless when it came to his little brother, and he was more than happy to slow down for him.

[cosmic-nopedog]

Could you possibly share more of your kirakira swap au... it is very inch resting to me!! (also- cute art :D)

THANK YOU, I AM GOING INSANE WITH NO ONE OTHER THAN MY BROTHER TO TALK ABT THIS OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDDD

ok ok so, its a very simple swap au as i've said and im gonna be shooo honest with youo, its ciel x ichika, i like the ship i think they are cute together SO ITS GOING TO HAPPEN, BUT ANYWAYS THIS IS GOING TO BE KINDA LONG

In this au, ichika is a fairy from strawberry mountain, and goes off to paris to learn about sweet making like ciel in the og, however unlike ciel, she goes alone and does learn from jean pierre and gets shot into the lime light, but the thing is that she kinda feels like somethings missing.

yeah she makes a lot of kiraru with her technique alone and her passion for sweets making but it feels a lil.. empty, she is a very lonely girl and at the beginning very clumsy [its still ichika cmon dsfjn vg] so she kinda also has this like BIG imposter syndrome thing going on, she masks it well enough for PR and what not but shes kinda worried that this all is just a big stroke of luck and some day shes going to inevitably fail.

I will say i do have kind of a storyline in mind so bear with me dfkjbnjkdf.

Anyways, she goes on her life in paris as Uzuki Ichika: Prodigy Patissiere [am still making the au so bear with me for there will be changes here n there] and nothing more, UNTIL, she runs into Usami Satomi [aka Ichika's mom in the og storyline] and they talk, and she learns that Satomi is a doctor and lives in strawberry mountain and all that stuff and shes in paris temporarily as part of her job, and i want them SOMEHOW i've yet to really think about all the details to develop a sorta soft ish guardian&kid relationship like, thats not ur kid but might as well be type thing.

ANYWAYS, after enough time [yet to be determined] i feel like ichika starts confiding in Satomi alot of the feelings she has going on and Satomi brings up the idea of taking a break and going back to like her home town, and Ichika does agree and all [BUT I WANT SOME REALISM HERE RIGHT not too much tho we still have fun,] but does bring up the fact that she probably wont have a place to stay if she does so [excuses cus she could very much so stay with the fairies] and CORRECT ME IF IM WRONG but a long time ago i did read something about how if you know like, a family in a country well enough they can like take u in for some time? like Adopt you so tospeak AGAIN I MIGHTVE HALLUCINATED THIS but if not yeah, THATS what happens.

So shes staying with the Usami's! yay! well just the dad cus Satomi does have to travel cus of her job n what not, and goes back to strawberry mountain to hopefully clear her head and maybe remember why she did all of this in the first place.

THATS THAT ON ICHIKA, which im going to be sho honest with you, shes the one i've like thought abt the most, mainly cus i like making the pink cures depressed kdsnbjkfdb BUT ALSO because shes in SUCH a situation and i find that inchresting.

I WILL ALSO SAY, im not swapping everyone, just ciel n ichika, mainly cus i find making ichika a fairy and ciel a cringe fail amateur patissiere very fun and inchresting BUT I DIGRESS.

NOW, AS FOR CIEL, shes a normal girl that has just moved into strawberry mountain, ysee, she is originally from strawberry mountain but moved out at some point in her life and decided to sort of move back in to take care of her grandmother who still recides in there, Rio also came along with her cus I LOVE MY SIBLING DYNAMICS OK.

SPEAKING OF, the way i see their dynamic is that they are very close and yes they stil have their shared interest in sweets and what not but ciel is more of a What happens if I double the amount of batter type interest and Rio is more of a Watches 3 bilion youtube videos on alot of recepies that he sometimes asks ciel if they can try out. Which ofcousre has a very diverse rate of success kdjfhbjbk.

They have the Passion and all the Feelings into it but Not alot of technical skill, I do think they meet Pekorin the same way Ichika met Pekorin in the og story, AND I DO WANT TO MAKE RIO A CURE, HE WILL BE A CURE I WILL MAKE THIS HAPPEN.

OH speaking of, i did kinda change Ichikas and Ciel's cure names, Ichika is now Cure Meringue and Ciel is now Cure Velvet.

AND THATS PRETTY MUCH WHAT I HAVE LIEK SOLIDIFIED AS OF RN!!!

I do have some liek spare thoughts here and there like, Ichika and Pekorin Have a sybling dynamic slash are actual sisters and at somepoint i want ichika to get stained in shadow maybe same with Rio but i have yet to figure out a cohesive storyline for that, BUT I WILL FIGURE IT OUTTTTT!!!

Also do NOT spoil me shit, I have NOT finished Kirakira Precure as of rn, IM CLOSE BUT NOT THERE YET.

LAST THING: i will call this AU very simply Strawberry Meringue Au

That is all.

[whumpbby]

Vergil coming back to Nero's life and deciding that yes, the offspring is strong and smart, he is proud. He will try to be a father.

Except he has no idea how to start, because memories of his own father as hazy and indistinct, and what he remembers of his mother doesn't seem to fit the situation.

He looks to Dante for pointers, but Dante is not a father material with vengeance, desperately trying to stick to the role of a fun uncle, because emotional vulnerability is a dirty word for him. Even though Nero is visibly desperate for a genuine familial bond with the younger Sparda twin, to the point even Vergil can see it (he may not be emotionally versed, but he's goddamn observant, had to be to survive). No help there.

But then, he notices... The children.

Nero's little gaggle of orphans.

The kids Nero and Kyrie took in and care for, ostentibly as caretakers, but anyone with eyes can see there's more to it. The kids are theirs. They are a family. A small, strange family made up of broken pieces, but more cohesive and caring that anything either twin has experienced in their life. Dante seems terrified of it.

Vergil is intrigued.

When on a job, he watches his son on the phone with the girl, and then inevitably some of the children, listens to his voice and the way it softens around the edges into something gentle and careful. None of the brash roughness, none of the swearwords, just - care and softness and emotion.

He watches the boy around his family, the first time Kyrie's request to finally meet him bears fruit. As difficult as it is with a human, Vergil admires her resolve to seem brave, because the girl is smart and knows how devil power tastes like in the air, and when she finally sees him Vergil can hear her heartbeat stuttering. Still, she steps in closer and reaches out to shake his hand, and it dawns on him she's doing it for Nero and the children. Her bravery, artificial as it is, feeds theirs, settles something in his son's eyes. It's easier to admire her after that realisation, so brushing his lips on her knuckles in an old-school greeting is no mockery.

Well, just a little. She giggles, bashful, and his son's hackles raise against his batter judgement. Amusing.

Thankfully, the children keep their distance and Vergil is glad for it. He's not comfortable with things so small, with sticky fingers and snotty noses. The oldest boy is in his teens, weedy and wide-eyed, and at his age Vergil already had blood under his fingernails and knew how it feels when his heart stops. The littlest one barely toddles behind it's adoptive mother and smells sweet enough for his teeth to ache and his instincts stir.

Children unnerve him and vice-versa. Maybe he should be blinking a bit more often?

("Blink, goddamnit!" The weaponsmith told him once, high on nicotine and new research materials, forgetting herself enough to stop stuttering. "It's like I'm talking to a fucking lizard!")

No, too much effort. The children will either shore up their courage or not, no point in condescending to them this young.

But his son doesn't seem to share that outlook - again, this softness. His step shortens, his eyes grow soft, his hands gentle as he brushes hair and cleans little mouths, and allows little hands to hang off his fingers. His voice drops an octave when speaking to them and Vergil wonders if the boy knows it's not a human trait. Demons don't care for their young like humans do, but strong offspring is coveted (either as legacy, potential opponents or food). Physical affection is always dangerous when instincts to care and feed are joined at the hip, so vocalisations take it's place.

The children respond, surprisingly. Young minds are easily trained, he knows, but Vergil never expected that instincts could be adjusted alongside. Not in humans. But it seems it's possible, because the pups flawlessly and haplessly follow every cue given by their caretaker.

Interesting. He's pretty sure his son is unaware.

A devil enough to follow his instincts, but human enough not to realise. Keeping himself between his brood and his father, regardless of his seeming eagerness for them to bond - somewhere under his skin he has to know how tasty they look, easy pickings for any demon around.

Vergil would never - well, not human children at least. Not his future kin (as soon as they prove themselves to him that is).

(But his son doesn't have to know for sure as long as it's amusing. Sue him, he's vindictive by nature.)

It gives him an idea, though.

He had no hand in raising his son, quite the opposite in fact (heh, Dante was rubbing off on him) and so he has no idea what sort of a parental care his son craves. Asking is out of question - his pride would never let him. Nero's pride would never give him honest answer. Explosively honest as he is, the boy guards his heart almost more than Dante.

Trial and error is also not viable - when the error carries danger of breaking the tenuous bond they have. Distastefully, Nero has a family to sate his emotional needs and a place to retreat to, if hurt enough he will not bother to stick around his awkward terror of a father. And it doesn't sit well with Vergil. Not now, when he's decided to claim his offspring as worthy of his attention.

No, it has to be a flawlessly executed plan without a chance of failure.

Luckily, he has a perfect example to follow that will get him into his son's good graces.

Nero.

The boy acting like a father to the strays under his care. Without an example to follow, he's still a good parental unit - in both human and demon sense. It's not instinctive to their breed of beasts, Vergil knows, thus it stands to reason his son built himself to be an ideal he wished for himself.

A caring father-figure appearing in the life of an orphaned child desperate to belong.

So, Vergil studies what he sees. It's not above him to take the easy path, he will use any and all advantages in battle. It's only fitting that Nero did his homework for him on this occasion too - just as he managed to somehow solve the age-old conflict between two brothers, regardless of their opinion. As if it was easy, as if he didn't pay it off with blood and heartache.

Still, a good example begs to be followed.

Before daring to put his plan into action, he tests it. Slowly and softly, out of sight of anyone with keen ears. The test material is right there after all, already primed - all three of them, his son's pups.

Dropping his voice is easy. It takes a couple tries to find the right tone - he never had a need to learn, but finds it as satisfying as any other type of research. The right combination of dominance and coaxing is fairly easy to find and hone.

He might have visited Kyrie a couple times to test his options behind his son's back - easily explainable by slowly growing interest in the weaponsmith's research tomes stacked in the mess of the garage-workshop. The fact he choses to visit at the least convenient times of the day, when the children are high on energy after returning from school and Kyrie is distracted by preparing food, is never mentioned.

The girl is always happy to see him - after her initial fear subsided, she exhibits the same desire for companionship as his son. She's also an orphan, after all, too young by far to be a mother of three. It doesn't hurt that his presence brings a steep decrease in the noise-level around the house.

Yes, the pups are responding well to his presence and verbal cues. Soon enough a low hum is enough to stop the boys running full-tilt in their tracks and quiet the youngest one's wailing.

Vergil tries not to feel accomplished at the last one, a paltry feat as it is compared to his other successes, but it still touches something within him when the child's eyes grow wide and glassy, staring at him in startled wonder.

He might have allowed himself to touch the little thing in a moment of weakness. A slight gesture, a brush of fingers across the soft, reddened cheek. A small reward for compliance, he explains it to himself, exchange of favours. A demon's rare tenderness for a moment of quiet.

It would last longer if it wasn't witnessed by the wide eyes of his son's girl, but may as well, no point in overindulgence. The child still smells too sweet, but at least now that sweetness doesn't make him salivate.

He knows Kyrie will tell his son of that short scene, of course she will. She'll want the boy to know his father is able of gentleness, she'll want to give him hope. Vergil is okay with that, if it makes the boy more open to his attempts.

He never refused an advantage in battle, after all.

[charmingsoa]

■ Gunslinger ■                 Ch. 6 ✶ Jax Teller/OC multi-chapter story ✶

🀰 Taglist available🀰

(TW: Mentions of rape, physical abuse, cursing)

@cindsvibes @sweet--catrastrophe  @stephv213  @itspdameronthings @neverland14353  @sweetdispositionsss @fandom-oneshots-etc @xtwistedxwonderlandx​ 

His dirty fingers lingered on my skin as I laid beneath him – tears falling from my lined eyes as his cigarette breath fell onto my neck. I knew she was in the room too – probably standing in the corner as he had his way with me. This had become a nightly ritual between the two of them. She was either too drunk or high for him to get enjoyment – barging through my door instead as she watched with dead eyes. The following morning, I would have to come up with many lies as to why my face was busted or why I was absent from school for such a long period. I had learned to ease the pain with the random drugs I would find as my mother slept. A line or two – a pill or four – just enough to numb the pain as his sweaty body laid on top of mine.

I spent the rest of the night in the broken-down truck that sat in the yard. I didn’t want to be in that house – be near the two of them. I didn’t even bother crying anymore as I washed his stench off my battered body. It was a regular occurrence at this point. I slowly made the walk to school – the clothes that I’ve worn for the past week hanging off my body like dirty rags. I knew the other students and teachers looked at me with pity – some whispering as I would walk by. I was just another kid from the wrong side of the tracks – a welfare case that should have either been aborted or placed up for adoption. I was a pawn to my mother – a warm body for her boyfriends – a guaranteed check from the government.

“Carter?” I looked up as the principle made her way towards me. I already knew how the conversation would go.

What happened to you this time? I’m gonna have to report this if it keeps happening? Is your mother aware of this?

“What happened to your face, Carter?” Her voice stern.

I had learned to lie at a very early age thanks to my mother. “Just an accident is all, Ms. Lions.” I smiled. “I was helping my mom with some home renovations and a couple things fell off the shelf while I was under it. Total stupidity on my part.”

I knew she didn’t believe me – “This is the fourth time something has fallen on your face in the past year, Carter.”

“Just clumsy and accident prone, I guess.” I replied.

She stayed silent as I walked away – a part of me wishing that she would finally call…

“Stupid bitch!”

I whimpered as her nails dug into my skin – no doubt causing blood to pool to the surface. “Had to open your fucking mouth to those nosey fucking teachers and tell them lies.” I glanced to the side, Butch, the fuck of the week, leaning against the trailer door. His eyes glazed over as he tipped back the beer bottle.

“I didn’t say anything!” I cried out. “I promise!”

“Lying fucking bitch.” She growled. “All you do is lie and try to steal what’s mine!”

I managed to get the courage to push her off of me – her body landing on the dirty carpet below. She looked around shocked – Butch just hanging in the shadows. Before she could jump up, I sprinted to my room, locking the door behind me. The sound of more bottles falling to the ground could be heard – glass littering the living room and kitchen as she raged. I had nowhere to go but I wasn’t staying here any longer. I packed up what I could fit in my duffle and backpack – climbing out the broken window to escape. She had put her hands on me before – practically choking me out enough to make me almost lose consciousness at times. This was the last straw though. I didn’t want to stay in a place where I needed to fear for my life. If I didn’t leave tonight, this could have been the last night of my life…

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Carter?”

I leaned against the clubhouse walls; my eyes drawn to the concrete floor. Word of my house burning to the ground quickly made its way to the city of Charming, the club being the first to respond. “It was an accident.” I muttered.

His head turned sharply in my direction, “An accident-“His voice stern. “Carter, you lit a fucking match and set the house a blaze. That’s not an accident – that’s fucking arson!”  

“Stop yelling at me.” My voice low. “If I say it was an accident then that’s what it fucking was, Jackson.” His body tensed as he grasped onto the chair. “You don’t know what it’s fucking like going back into a place where you once felt safe – content. Now you have to look over your shoulder every damn second, afraid someone is gonna be there and finish off what they started. I can’t bring Madison back into that house – I don’t feel safe anywhere, Jax.” Tears fell as I spoke. “What if those bastards come back and hurt our daughter? I can’t have that ever happening and if that meant burning down the God damn house then so be it.”

He let out a loud sigh, his hand running down his tired face. “I know this is a huge mess that you and the club are gonna have to clean up but it needed to happen.”

“It’s fine.” I looked at him. “Clay knows the fire marshal – paying off will be no problem.”

The room turned silent as I took a seat, my hands running through my hair. “You and Maddie will just have to stay at my place for the time being. Her room is already set up and most of her stuff is there anyway.” Jax spoke as he sat next to me. “Be like old times.” A smirk formed on his face.

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah – just like old times.”

“I still love you, Carter.” His voice more serious. “What I said the other day was just out of anger. I would never mean the things and names I called you.”

I glanced up at him, his eyes red with incoming tears. “We both said things that we never meant- that’s just how we work.” It was true – we would always say the vilest things toward one another. “Let’s just put it in the past like everything else, okay.”

He took my hand in his – my heart fluttering as he pressed his lips against my skin. “Promise.”

I moved what was left of mine and Madison’s things into Jax’s house. Half-sack was in charge of watching me – receiving orders from Jax to take out anyone that looked suspicious. I doubt Georgie and his goon squad would try anything right now – especially knowing that the club was on the warpath. I had him drive me over to the studio – Luann still in disbelief that this would happen to one of her girls. Jax had placed a couple of the prospects at the studio to protect the girls, even buying two large dogs in case no one was there during the night.

Luann was restricted to what she could do seeing as the feds were still looking into the business aspect of Cara Cara. The new talent that she had hired weeks before were already gone, either too scared or too greedy. Ima had decided to return after her little stint with Darby, basically begging Luann to take her back. Rumor was she even went and worked with Georgie for a week or two before crawling back.

“How’re you doing sweetheart?” Her arms wrapped around my frame.  

“Bout as good as I can be at this point.” I smiled as I pulled away slightly. “I’m sorry.” Tears formed in my eyes.

“Oh, Carter-“She sighed, pulling me back into the hug. “None of this was your fault, sweetie. You have to stop blaming yourself.”

We stayed silent as she continued to hug me – pulling away after a few minutes. “I should be the one apologizing to you – I’m the one that stirred shit up with him and he comes after you and the others.”

I looked at her confused, “Who else did he come after?”

She stayed silent for a moment, “Well-“She shifted in her seat. “One of his men threatened and punched Lyla in the face. Another guy followed Ima home and basically terrorized her all night by calling and stalking her. Jax and the guys have been trying but the more they press back, the worse the assaults get. They know you’re involved with Jax and that you’re one of my top earners. Georgie doesn’t just want to hurt you – he wants Jax and I to suffer too.”

“He approached me a week or two before the attack.” I spoke. “I was at the grocery store with Madison and the bastard came up to me while I was putting her in the car. Started telling me that I needed to drop you and work for a true professional. I of course told him no and to leave me alone. He obviously followed me home and I didn’t even know it. I’m just thankful Madison wasn’t home when they did it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Carter?

I shrugged my shoulders, “I thought I could handle it – plus you had enough on your plate at that time. I didn’t even tell Jax – I didn’t think it would come to the point it did.”

“Have you talked to anyone about it?”

I shook my head no. “I’ve been through shit like that before – I don’t need to talk to a fucking shrink and have them pick my brain about why I think this happened to me. I don’t need to tell a stranger about how my mom’s boyfriends would have their way with me and then how my mom would beat the hell out of me the next day. I don’t need them telling me that the reason I picked a career in porn is because my father wasn’t around and the abuse that I received when I was a kid. It’s nobody’s fucking business except mine.  

Luann stayed silent.

“I just want this whole thing to be forgotten. I was raped – attacked – it fucking happens.”

“Carter, shit like that doesn’t happen – it’s not supposed to fucking happen.” I rolled my eyes. “You may try to forget about it but that’s gonna eat you alive. Even if you don’t talk to a doctor about it – just try to talk to someone.”

I simply nodded my head, “Sure thing.” I forced a smile before walking away…

“I’ve missed you so much, baby doll.”

Her little legs and arms were wrapped tight against my body as I moved us around the room. I hadn’t seen my daughter in almost two weeks – crying as soon as I saw Jax’s truck pull into the driveway that night. I sprinted off the porch, throwing open the door, her little face lit up like a Christmas tree once she saw me.

“You stay here with me and daddy?” She asked as she played with my necklace.

I nodded my head, “Sure am, baby.”

I set her down on the floor, watching as she ran into the other room. I couldn’t help but cry – Jax coming to my side – his arm wrapping around my middle. “She missed you, kid.”

Moments later, her little sandaled feet came running back, construction paper in her tiny hands. “Mommy, I drew these for you when you were sick. Nana Gemma helped me with the glue and scissors.” She handed me the drawings. “That’s me and you when we go to the park and the other one is me, you, and daddy.”

I looked at the pictures, stick figures and scribbled coloring making my heart break even more. “Nana Gemma said that pictures would make you feel better – make the monsters go away.” Her little hand placed on my leg. “You like it, mommy?”

“I love it, sweetheart.” I pulled her in for another hug.

We ordered pizza that night for dinner, Madison crashing soon after. I carried her into the room, placing her into the princess bed Jax and Opie cursed over a year ago. I still remember the look of happiness on her face when she saw it for the first time. Jax and Opie’s face told another tale. I placed a kiss on her forehead before turning off the lights, cracking her door before walking towards the bathroom.

“All set?” Jax whispered as he leaned against the door frame.

I let out a sigh, “I think so.” I looked around – everything still the same from years before. My eyes caught the tub – Jax and I relaxing in the bubbles before bed most nights. As our relationship slowly started to end, I would go in there alone as my thoughts raced. A glass of champaign and too many lit candles keeping me company as the bubbles faded away.

I looked back at Jax, his eyes searching mine as I slowly started to remove my shirt. “What’re you doing?” He asked unsure. I stayed silent as I plugged the tub, pouring the rest of Madison’s bubble bath into the water. Our eyes stayed locked as I undressed – finally breaking as I stepped into the warm, welcoming water. It had been quite some time since Jax and I had been in an intimate situation. We would tease each other here and there but it had been over a year since we slept together. I just needed a familiar touch – not in a sensual way – but a protective, loving way.

He stood still – moving once I gave him the reassuring glance. I kept my focus ahead as he removed his clothes, moving up slightly as he placed himself behind me. As my back hit his chest, a sense of relief was lifted. My body was positioned between his – a protective bubble that made me feel whole once again. We stayed silent as I laid my head against this shoulder, his hands locked around my waist. Everything felt right for that moment in time.

[starry-blue-echoes]

so it has been. Literal months since I last talked about Neutral Ground but a Thought just hit me with all the subtly and delicacy of a brick and I can’t get it out of my head

so after Tonio adopts Giorno, he’s definitely going to be MUCH more aware of the danger Passione presents. Yes he knows he technically has a deal going with the Boss and Doppio, but this is the fucking mafia and he now has a kid who could be put in danger. No matter how much protection they given them, someone is always going to be after them for their connections ad Tonio isn’t going to risk his child’s safety for his mistakes

so what if he starts preparing to leave. Not obviously, of course, he treats this with more delicacy and secrecy than the most valuable ingredients because he CANNOT afford to fuck this up. It takes months of meticulous planning, of covering his tracks, of ensuring that no matter what they'll be safe. Money thankfully isn't an issue, and he and Giorno don't really have anyone to worry about leaving behind.

(and if Tonio at some point asks Giorno if he could visit any place in the world and the boy responded "Japan" well that was just an innocent question for curiosities sake)

Then finally the day comes. With all of their most important essentials packed, they flee Italy, and after taking a VERY long roundabout route filled with more fake names and IDs than either can fully remember, they make it to Morioh, Japan

The first couple years are very anxious, paranoia filled ones. Months of looking over their shoulder, of not unpacking their bags, of working small part time jobs and keeping their distance from the locals

but then they start to relax. They start to get more comfortable. They unpack their bags, Giorno starts to make friends with the neighbors, Tonio starts cooking again and even starts making plans to open a new restaurant

sure there's a small hiccup when the issue of Kira pops up, but they gain so much more in return. A community, other people with abilities, a support network they can trust, and eventually their family of two becomes one of four with the addition of Okuyasu and Stray Cat

Life is good and they're happy

but of course, not all good things can last

Passione finds them. They don't know how, but one day Okuyasu and Giorno come home to find the restaurant trashed, their home destroyed, and Tonio on the floor battered and beaten and bloody, on death's door yet just barely clinging to life

They'd had a feeling this was coming, and yet they'd allowed themselves to grow complacent

Logically, Giorno knew they should run. That Morioh wasn't safe anymore, that Passione would come for them again, that they needed to leave before any more damage was done

but they had a life here. Giorno had friends, a family, people he cared about and selfishly didn't want to leave behind. Morioh had been the happiest he, the happiest Tonio, had been in years. He'd seen his papa laugh and smile and sing, when he cooked he swayed and hummed, such a stark opposite to the methodical silence when he cooked in Italy

And Giorno was angry. Angry that Passione tried taking this away from them, tried killing his father who wanted nothing more than to live a quiet life in peace, tried tearing apart the family his father had built with his bare, bloody hands

he wasn't going to let that stand

and well....... Okuyasu certainly isn't going to let his little brother do this on his own :)

Giorno has the calculating mind, Okuyasu has the raw power, and both are fueled by protective vengeance. Needless to say, Italy was not ready for these two

(also this is. Completely separate from what I was talking about but as I was thinking I wanted to possibly experiment with somehow putting Volpe into the AU, since he's Tonio's little brother in the Purple Haze Feedback novel and also part of Passione and according to the wiki is resentful of his brother for his choices. I'm not fully sure, I just think it would be neat and add a bit of fun and some conflict.

Maybe Volpe was one of the people Diavlo sent after Tonio after doing a bit of digging and learning about their connect? Maybe there was a bit of non consensual drugging, which led to Tonio being landed in the hospital in a way that Crazy D couldn't fix and could then lead to Giorno and Okuyasu's loathing of drugs and add more to the desire for revenge upon learning that guy was their uncle)

[owlwithatypewriter]

Flower Bud 🌻

AO3 Link

Warnings: Minor injuries, fae-adoption (aka kidnapping), possessive Wilbur Soot

"You look like a wrong'un."

It probably wasn't the best thing to say, considering the look that was returned, but Tommy didn't care - he didn't have the time or patience for manners, not in the middle of the forest, not when he was reeling with a concussion and cradling his broken fingers to his chest. He glared right back at the brunette beanpole, widening his stance so the soft spring breeze wouldn't topple him.

"Pardon," the beanpole said, chocolate-gold eyes wide in surprise, "I'm a what?"

"A wroh-ung-un," Tommy emphasized the word, giving it an additional syllable to make his point. He really was - looking the man up and down, he could see that his clothes, though appearing to be common (a trench coat in summer, really?) were made of high-quality silks and leathers, and his oddly-large ears hung with silver and gold chains that dangled priceless gems. Something stirred in the back of his mind, something about jewels and unknown people in the forest, but it was quickly squashed by the ache in his skull.

The man tilted his head to the side, earrings jingling like wind chimes as he looked Tommy up and down. His mouth quirked, as though he found the boy's rumpled appearance amusing, and his shoulders relaxed. Folding his arms behind his back, he asked, "And what must one do to be a 'wrong one'?" The phrase fell oddly from his lips, as though he was tasting it as he spoke.

Something - probably self-preservation, or basic street smarts - told Tommy not to answer, to turn around and walk away, but he'd never been one for thinking twice in a situation. "Y'know," he said, waving his unbroken hand about, "like, wrong stuff. Luring kids with candy. Vandalizing public parks. Kidnapping innocent children. Being a - a wrong'un ."

The man - Beanpole, Tommy decided, since despite his posh mannerism he had yet to introduce himself - Beanpole blinked, and there was something amused in his gaze now. "Well, I can assure you, I haven't been luring any children about with candy, or vandalizing any public parks. I don't believe I am one of those 'wrong-ones' you are looking for."

Tommy snorted. "You don't look for wrong'uns, they just find you." He huffed.

"Hmm." Beanpole tapped his chin, looking Tommy up and down as he considered his words of wisdom. "Well, I am not a wrong'un," he stumbled a bit at smooshing the words together the way Tommy had, "and you don't seem to be one either-"

"O'course I ain't!"

"-so, may I have your name?"

A voice screamed in Tommy's head, telling him no-no-no-no-no, blasting past the building migraine. He wavered a bit on his feet, and Beanpole tilted his head but didn't move to touch him. More thoughts crowded his mind, trying to push past the ache, screaming about the significance of pointed ears and mushrooms in fields, but he battered them back.

"Nah." He said, shaking his head (and immediately regretting it). "I don't give my name to randos in the woods." A quick glance around showed they were standing in a clearing, a small babbling brook nearby, and a hawthorn tree twisting behind Beanpole. It was a nice spot - he couldn't remember ever having been here before, despite years exploring the forest while dodging his chores. Beanpole opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off. "What're you doing here anyway? Kind of a weird place for a noble to hang out, innit?"

"A noble?" Beanpole shoved his hands in his coat pocket, rocking back on his heels a bit. Tommy risked a glance down and took note of the fancy and oddly-clean leather boots he was wearing. "What makes you say that?"

The teen snorted. "Nobody dresses like that," he gestured to all of Beanpole with his unbroken hand, "in the woods unless they have money to burn." He took another look around, trying to spot a horse grazing in the surrounding trees, but there was nothing more than a curious squirrel rummaging through the flowers curling around the base of the hawthorn.

There were a lot of flowers, actually, of all kinds, in all colors - some that Tommy had never seen before. They overtook the tall grass, heavy heads bobbing in the gentle breeze. Alliums, tulips, wild roses, lavender, asters, Queen Anne's lace, oxeyes - even some water lilies bobbing near the edge of the brook, and a cluster of sunflowers taller than either of them near a break in the trees, large disc florets reaching towards the sun as it lingered overhead.

"Wait, is this…?" Tommy glanced at his feet and saw a few clutches of mushrooms hiding beneath the grass, sparkling oddly in the sun. His head snapped up and he stared at Beanpole, who looked smug. "Holy shit, are you a fairy trapper?"

Smug was exchanged for shock. "A what?" Beanpole sputtered, eyes wide in disbelief.

"A fairy trapper - y'know, those stupid bastards who go around planting flowers in forests and trying to trick fairies out of their name!" Tommy snorted, kicking at a daisy sprouting by his feet. "Damn, you must have wasted a ton of Magi-grow to get these so big. Fuckin' rich folk…"

Beanpole still looked slightly baffled, but he brought his wits back enough to ask, "Why would anybody think they could trap a fae with flowers?"

"It's what the fuckers like, innit?" Tommy shuffled back a step, nearly knocking over a large toadstool. "They live in 'em and shit."

"Live in - how would a fae fit inside a flower?" Beanpole sounded torn between amusement and exasperation.

"They're tiny, ain't they?" Tommy held up his hand and stretched his thumb and pointer finger apart, showing off a length of about six inches.

"Faeries are, but fae aren't, and a trapper would never find a faerie in the overhill." Beanpole was staring at him as though he had said something incredibly stupid.

"They're the same thing, aren't they? Faeries and fae?" That little niggling in the back of his mind was getting louder, whispering frantically about the mushrooms in the field and how they were planted.

"No, not at all." Beanpole sighed and leaned back against the hawthorn tree, running a hand through his dark curls. He looked oddly exasperated at being questioned on this knowledge. "Faeries are, basically, baby fae. When a faerie reaches maturity, they are considered a true fae."

"Maturity?" Tommy quoted, ignoring the mushrooms at his feet.

Beanpole crossed his arms over his chest as he rolled an answer around in his mind, finger of his left hand tapping against the elbow of his right. "Yes. I believe it would be around…a hundred and eighty years to a mortal, give or take a decade or two."

"Holy shit."

The man snorted as Tommy gaped at him. "Yes, that must seem like a long time to you," he hummed in thought. "How old are you anyway? You don't look to be more than a child."

"Oie, dickhead! I'll have you know I'm a man!"

Beanpole doesn't look convinced. "How old?"

Tommy puffed out his chest as best he could. "I'm fifteen, practically an adult already!"

"Aw!" Beanpole pushed off the tree and beamed at Tommy, taking a step closer and stooping a bit so they were at eye-level. "You're just a kid! A little child. An itty-bitty baby man!" He jeered, bright amusement in his odd eyes.

If his hands were in tip-top condition (and his head wasn't swimming like a fish caught in a whirlpool), Tommy would have lashed out, maybe land a not-quite-serious punch on the man's shoulder in rebuke of his words. Instead, he just took another step back, lips pulled back in a snarl, the familiar rebuke on his tongue. "I'm not a fuckin' child!" He sniffed, tilting his chin up haughtily. "Besides, you're wrong. Baby faeries are called changelings."

Beanpole snorted. "No, they're not." He corrected, though there was amusement coloring his tone. "Changelings are an entirely different thing. The Aos Sí in the northern isles are the only ones near here who use them."

Tommy tilted his head in confusion. "The Is-She?" He copied. "Is she what?" He took a large step forward, past the mushroom clusters, shoving a finger in his face. "You better not be disrespecting women! I'll have you know my many, many wives-"

Beanpole didn't let him finish - he grabbed Tommy's wrist, long, thin fingers wrapping tightly around bruised skin, and tugged him closer. Unsteady on his feet, the boy pitched forward, stumbling against the taller man's chest. He yelped, pain shooting through his broken hand as it was squished between them. Beanpole didn't let up his grip at the sound of pain - instead he wrapped an arm around Tommy's back, forcing him to stand flush with the older man.

"You're not nearly as smart as you make yourself seem, hmm?" The man's voice was taunting, something sharp in it that unsettled Tommy's mind, shaking loose those squashed thoughts from earlier. Mushrooms…pointed ears…unknown forest clearings… "Such a big voice for such a little boy - you're no more than a babe, really." A hand carded through his golden curls, pausing at the crusted blood from where the guard had landed a hit with the butt of her axe. Tommy pressed back against Beanpole's arm, tilting his head back so he could see his face.

The man was looking down at him, but that wasn't right - he wasn't a man. His ears were long and pointed at the tips, dripping with gems and jewels that sparkled with something beyond sunlight. His eyes were a swirling miasma of brown and gold, flecks of otherworldly knowledge embedded deep in the iris. He was smiling widely - too widely, and his teeth were just on the other side of sharp to be human. And there was something in his gaze - something wanting. Something needing. Something dangerous and at the same time soft, sharp but compassionate.

Fairies are territorial, he could hear his teacher reminding them as they sat on wooden benches in the small one-room schoolhouse, you must never allow yourself to get near one. If you happen upon one in the woods, be polite and leave as soon as possible. Never insult a fae. Never question them. They are easily offended and will whisk you away to be their slaves for eternity, if given the chance.

"I-" Tommy croaked, and the fae tilted his head, watching intently as Tommy tried to speak. "I don't know how to clean." He blurted out.

The fae blinked, smile dropping a bit. "What?"

"I'm shit at dusting and - and stuff. Cooking. Burned a salad once." He had - it'd been hilarious in hindsight, but the matron hadn't been pleased. "I'd make a shit slave."

"A slave?" The fae had lost his suave, darkly-mysterious aire and was now staring at Tommy as though he was talking nonsense. "What in the world are you on about?"

"That's what you folk do, innit?" Tommy pressed back against the arm again, but the fae didn't give, keeping him hugged close to his chest. "Y'know, steal humans to be slaves?"

The fae shook his head, expression softening. "Oh - oh no, we don't do that! Not anymore at least," he tacked on in a mutter, then cleared his throat. "Any humans that come to the courts are more like…indentured servants."

"En-den-tur-ed? You take their teeth?!" Tommy didn't know if that was better or worse than just being a slave.

"No!" Beanpole wrinkled his nose at the idea. "No, they work as servants for the court until the magic has embraced them, then they're welcomed into the court as proper fae." He shook his head, pulling Tommy a little closer in a hug. "Honestly, what are they teaching you humans these days?"

Tommy wasn't comforted by the explanation. "So you're gonna indenture me?" He asked cautiously. His teacher had once told them that in order for a fairy - or fae, as Beanpole insisted - to get power over a human, a few different things had to happen. They either needed to know the human's true name, the human had to step into the fairy ring the fae appeared in, or the human had to insult the fae badly enough that the laws of magic required recompense. Tommy knew he hadn't given the fae his name, but he certainly hadn't been holding his tongue while they spoke, and the mushrooms his mushy mind had taken note of earlier had been in a near-circular pattern. He was fairly certain he'd stepped on a few while arguing with the fae.

Beanpole hummed, his hand going back to running through Tommy's curls. "No," he said after a moment, "I don't believe so."

An uncertain hope grew in Tommy's chest. "You're gonna let me go?"

"Oh no," the fae chuckled, and that dark, sharp edge was back. "You're much too precious. I think you would make a perfect faerie."

The hope was snuffed out, replaced with confusion. "You - you said faeries were baby fae," he said. "Hate to tell you king, but I've already grown up."

"That may make the change take longer," the fae sighed, "but I'll be with you every step of the way."

"The change?" Tommy pushed against Beanpole's chest with his good hand and tried to shuffle back, but something was wrapped around his feet. He couldn't look down to see what it was, but when he moved, it tightened.

"Yes." Beanpole finally released him, taking a step back so he could rest his hands on Tommy's shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. "Fae aren't born, sunshine. They're made."

Whatever was holding his legs in place had begun to snake up his legs to his back. Tommy glanced down and felt his heart stop at the sight of thick, green vines winding themselves around him, holding him fast. "W-wait, no," he snapped his gaze back to Beanpole, "I don't want this!"

The fae's expression grew soft, and he reached up to cup Tommy's cheeks, paying no attention to the vines snaking their way up his chest, pinning his arms to his sides and chest. "I know it's scary," his voice had grown quiet and it wrapped around Tommy like a blanket of silk. "You'll be alright, I promise. You'll grow up in the Meadow, cherished and treasured as you should be, with all the other little faeries."

In his memory, Tommy would blame his concussion (he did have one, Wilbur would confirm decades later) for the way he leaned forward into Beanpole's palms, for the soft warmth that squeezed his heart at the thought of being cherished , of being wanted . He would blame it for the moment of calm, for the way the gentle magic Beanpole imbued in his voice overtook him, slowing his heart.

The vines curled around his neck, and now there were leaves, sprouting from the greenery, wrapping him up like a cocoon. Beanpole slowly pulled his hands back, grinning when Tommy leaned forward after them. "And then when you're all grown, you'll join me in the court as a prince, with our father and brother."

The panic returned as the fae and his magic stepped back, but before Tommy could open his mouth and insist this was wrong, yell again that he didn't want this, leaves snapped shut over his head, plunging him in darkness. A sweet scent filled the space - he yanked his head back, trying to catch a breath of fresh air, but his head was swimming more than ever. The scent grew stronger, choking him, and then there was nothing but darkness and quiet.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

The changing didn't take as long as Wilbur expected, considering the child's feisty attitude. It always took longer when the human was more resistant to the idea. He hummed to himself as the cocoon solidified, slowly turning gold as it drank his magic and began the change. In only a few minutes it began to tremble, before twirling like a tornado and pulling in on itself, shrinking down to a small seed. The fae prince scooped it up and examined it closely, before turning and stepping through the trunk of the Hawthorne. The fairy tree rippled as it carried him through the barrier between Realms, allowing him to step out on the edge of the Meadow.

It was early morning in the Forest, and the young faeries were already flitting about, chasing each other about the blooming flowers or bothering the caretakers for breakfast. He spotted Puffy and Foolish on the other side of the field, chatting quietly as they set down platters of fresh fruits and decanters of nectar for the babies to eat. The latter spotted him and gave a wave, and Wilbur gave a short wave back before wading into the knee-high field and searching for a spot of clear ground.

After a moment of search he spied a spot between a pink tulip and a deep violet allium. Kneeling in the dirt, he carefully dug a small hole and dropped in the seed before carefully covering it with the displaced dirt. A careful drop of his magic soaked the mound, and after only a moment a curl of green appeared. It quickly grew, a long stem shooting up to nearly Wilbur's height, a large bud rapidly grew along the top. The fae jumped to his feet eagerly, watching as the green cover peeled back to reveal bright yellow petals. Wilbur watched expectantly as they fell open, revealing a large sunflower, a small shape curled up on the seeded center. With gentle movements, Wilbur scooped the faerie into his hands.

The boy was still a mess of lanky limbs and blonde curls, but his wounds had been healed, and his clothes were now clean (though his shoes were gone - for some reason, they never survived the change). There was a lump of thinly-furred skin against his back, still wet with fresh magic from the cocoon. Gently, Wilbur stretched out one of the wings, taking in the white crescent-moon shapes and the red highlights among the gray fuzz. A moth, then - Techno could probably tell him exactly what kind, but for now Wilbur was satisfied just seeing his new brother's wings grown and intact. Out of curiosity, he shifted the child to rest in the palm of one hand, and with his other stretched out his thumb and pointer finger.

He'd been right - faeries were no larger than the space between.

Grinning, Wilbur pressed the child to his chest and moved to the edge of the meadow, avoiding Puffy's knowing grin. He settled beneath a tree, leaning against the bark, and hummed to the sleeping boy. It would take a few hours for him to wake, and more for his wings to properly dry. Then he'd be ready to learn how to fly, how to use his magic, how to grow and laugh and enjoy life as all children should. He'd know nothing but love now, and would never stumble about in the woods bleeding and stinking of fear again. He'd be cherished, not only by Wilbur and the caretakers, but by all the fae.

Wilbur had found himself a little bit of sunshine, and he was never letting it go.

Wilbur Soot you are a nightmare to write when I'm tired.

I hope you enjoyed! Had this idea for a while, thought it would make a good little one-shot. I do have a few more ideas for this AU, so if you'd be interested in seeing more, please let me know in a comment!

[owlsdrawinglair]

Hi, hello, sorry for not posting this like 3 DAYS after I said I will post it but I have been rather tiered these days and it just wasn't going, so I hope you enjoy the Part 1 of my AU

So, for now I won't get into too much detail of how he came to adopt Spider specifically (that's gonna get its own post cos it's a complicated one), but for now I'll just say that he first came to meet Spider on the day of The Great Battle in, well, not very nice circumstances, and that he was the one to bring him back to Hells Gate. After that he went back to the battle where the whole got-shot-on-a-sky-ship-and-almost-falling-to-his-death thing happanes, but, luckily, he survives (but not without some major consequences which we'll touch on later). After the battle and banishing of humans from Pandora Tsu'Tey is basically stuck at Hells Gate till he gets batter and is forced to face the fact that he'll likely not be able to be as good of a warrior as before, or a clan leader for that matter, and simply put he was NOT coping well with those facts, or that there was a tiny human child almost constantly in his presence and that he felt somewhat responsible for him after, well, the way he "discovered" him. At first he couldn't really stand his presence and kept telling the scientists to keep the child away from him ( under the excuse that he might accidentally hurt the child) but slowly and surely he starts to warm up to the little bugger, especially after witnessing the humans on the base not giving the kid much tought or straight up ignoring him to the point that he would cry on hours on end with no one checking on him at which point Tsu'Tey would just get up and do it himself. Even after he was given an all clear and was released from the confidence of the med bay he still would go and check on the child often, play with him, sooth I'm when he was grumpy, tell him stories and so on, it got to a point where the scientists would call him in the middle of the night to "come and calm the kid down cos Jesus Christ he wond stop SCREAMING". After some time, he pretty much declared him his own, but not before he consulted the scientists about his parentage, just to make sure he didn't have any other family who could take him in and such, and they told him that the only relative they could find was his mother (Paz Socorro, he'll never forget) who was obviously gone and they couldn't find a match for a father, so, basically he was all his. And he was happy with this arrangement, just him and his little human son living one day at a time, not caring for all the wierd looks being send their way or the whispers behind clasped palms, until one day when they found a new life developing inside a lifeless sleeping body. They found it more-or-less unintentionally, when Spider (as they came to nickname him) kept taping on Grace's tank whenever they come to visit her, mumbling something akin to "baby" in still not very mastered Na'vi, and would get all whiney when he would be away from the tank. So the the lab crew did some scans and found out that the avatar was somehow pregnant and expecting to "give birth" in about 6 months. Of course they immediately called Jake and Neytiri to come over and explained the whole situation to them and to see what would happen if the pregnancy ended up playing out successfully and them having another kid on their hands. The couple was hesitant, looking that Neytiri herself was pregnant and was expecting their child very soon they were not sure if the could manage two kids at a time, so Tsu'Tey, having heard the whole thing was like "fuck it" and offered to take the kid in. Some tought was given into it, but eventually they all agreed to Tsu'Tey taking the child in. And thus Kiri came into their little family. It was hard, especially the first couple of months when Kiri required Tsu'Tey's constant attention and Spider also needing his own those of the latter, but eventually it got easier, as Spider got this first exo mask and was finally able to be with them outside and Kiri developing a somewhat sane sleeping schedule. The little family grew, laughed, cried, argued and loved together, and all was well, until the Sky Demons returned

[yandereforme]

Part 4: Green home

You first met Izuku midoriya when you were nine and he was ten. Izuku was hiding in the park from Bakugou when he heard heavy breathing and jumping sounds coming from nearby.

He quickly saw you trying to reach a bag that was stuck up in a nearby tree. Izuku had climbed it often enough that it wasn’t to hard for him to retrieve your bag.

Then, you hugged and thanked him, jokingly calling him your hero (stupid move). You then introduced yourself and explained that you started school next week at Aldera, as your new foster family already had kids who went there. It was your foster brother who put your bag in the tree.

You and izuku quickly became quite close. Izuku adored you, constantly encouraging you and relishing in your trust of him(I see you as being shorter than him, upping the protective behavior).

Even after you were told his quirk status, you didn’t care. You continued to partner with him on projects and sit with him at lunch. You always complimented his books.(you didn’t know how many notebooks he filled that were all about you.)

You came over to his house about a month into the friendship, and Inko adored you. You were sweet and polite and a great friend to her son.(she saw you as a daughter, and when you accidentally call her mom? She shed many happy tears)

Izuku finds out how bad things are between you and your foster brother when you are 11 and Izuku is 12 (two years before canon, and two years after meeting)(you are only a few months younger than him, like he was born in July and you in October kind of thing)

He is running from Bakugou and his cronies when he stumbles across you being surrounded by three older boys. Izuku sees you, bruised and battered, barely conscious, as your foster brother kicks you in the stomach and goes FERAL

When Bakugou and his follower find Izuku, they expect to see the weak nerd hiding or crying. Instead, they find Izuku bashing your foster brother’s head in with a book. Both of your foster brothers friends are already unconscious and bloody. When Izuku whirls around, even Bakugou takes half a step back at the feral look in his eyes.

“Izu…. Please…” You murmur, barely conscious, only registering the green hair. Izuku immediately bends over and picks you up, and you snuggle up to him as he takes you home bridal style.

Before he leaves, he smiles at Bakugou and puts a finger to his lips. Bakugou nods, and after Izuku leaves, has his extras swear to stay quiet.

Izuku hated the way many people underestimated him as a quirkless kid, but for once, it was useful. No one would believe that the older boys had been beaten to the point of being hospitalized by a small quirkless loser.

After you woke up, with the combined pressure of Inko and Izuku’s tears, you confessed how your foster parents encouraged the abuse and even participated in it.

Another good thing about being quirkless? People dismissed you a lot. And Izuku had always been smart. So it wasn’t hard to get your foster parents arrested and manipulate the courts into letting you stay with his mother, who had acquired her own foster license months ago (after the third time you came over late at night, unwilling to go home. Inko was optimistic, yes, but she wasn’t stupid.)

(Inko had always wanted both a daughter and a son. Izuku had always wanted a little sibling to dote on and protect. You fit perfectly, all kind and soft and sweet. Why would they hesitate)

(You needed them)

Edit: sorry I haven’t posted in a while. Life is sucky and I’ve had zero motivation, but now my muse is screaming. Side note, do you guys want all platonic for this or a romantic yan as well?

Bakugou interlude

Bakugou was pissed the nerd wasn’t willing to give him his all, but he knew enough not to say anything, espec after the old hag told him auntie Inko adopted the girl. And if he wasn’t bothering the nerd as much? It was just because auntie didn’t need more stress

(The old hag had always told him the Midoriya’s loved fiercely. He never understood until the alley.(That was a lie. He remembered the time a teacher hit the nerd and auntie found out. The teacher went missing days later and the nerd didn’t go to school for a week. He remembered the look in Aunties eyes when the old hag asked about it. It was the same look as the alley. He never wanted to be looked at like that again)

Mha Yandere series

Part 1: The dawn of quirks

You are the younger sibling of Yoichi and Hizashi Shigaraki(Yoichi is five years older, Hizashi is ten years older)

Yan! Yoichi

He’s more possessive than obsessive

Sees himself as your savior from Hizashi

Will try to take you with him when he leaves

Manipulative(gentle)

Won’t let anything be your fault(and if it is, he will blame Hizashi for teaching you to act like that)

He knows how controlling Hizashi is, so will let you do things as long as he comes with

Will sabotage any relationship you get into (platonic or romantic)

Is easily manipulated by cuteness

Thinks of you as his cute cheerleader, his sweet angel of a little sibling

Doesn’t understand how unhealthy and hypocritical he is

Yan! Hizashi Shigaraki

He sees you as a precious baby

Will refuse to punish you, but will take away anything that could ‘corrupt’ you

Will spoil you (he starts getting into crime when you were five, became big boss when you were seven)

Manipulative (forceful)

Is very controlling

Will only let you leave the house as a treat (will never let you leave alone)

Isn’t as easily manipulated as Yoichi, but has a weakness for you acting cute (calling him Hizanii will make him melt)

Has cameras all around the house

You will only do online school

You knew early on what Hizashi did for work. You pretended not to know, but you did. You always knew your brothers fought when you weren’t around, but would never fight in front of you. You learned to be a little manipulative early on, which let you get away with some free time.

When Yoichi leaves, it’s like a game of keep away. You are always being fought over like a toy. They will not openly badmouth each other, but they will slip in jabs at each other you pretend to ignore.

They didn’t know you were there during their big fight. They didn’t realize until they heard you cry out in pain. By the time they got to you, it was too late. They wept, as brothers, over your body. They would fight again another day, and they knew it, but for now, they mourned their sunshine.

Hizashi didn’t notice the sparking of a quirk inside you. If he did, he might have realized his dead little sibling wasn’t quite as gone as they thought.

Edit: please let me know in the comments if you want me to continue this.

[aikoiya]

I don't understand Pro-Choicers. These days, there should be enough different types of prevention that no one should even get pregnant unless they want to. We have birth control in both pill & shot forms, we have implants, we have condoms, we have plan b. Hell, in county health departments birth control is free!

All things considered, these women shouldn't be getting pregnant at all if they are doing their due diligence, but they are & it makes me think that it means they're not actually trying that hard. So, in cases where it's NOT rape, it's the woman's fault for being negligent! Then, even when it is rape, plan b should help with that! It exists for a reason!

Why take that out on an unborn baby? It's not their fault you were dumb & lazy. Take freaking responcibility for your actions!

Also, there's the fact that research shows infants can feel pain as soon as 12 weeks after conception. You know what that means? You're ripping the limbs off of someone that can actually feel it happening! But no one wants to talk about that!

Now, I'm not saying that there aren't situations in which abortion shouldn't happen. Those would be when, say, the baby is already dead in the womb or would be born without internal organs. In those cases, yeah, there's nothing you can do & there's no point going through with the rest of the pregnancy. At the same time, if a woman abort in these cases, then no one is dying because the child is already dead, so there's no conflict.

Also, why is it that only the woman gets to make the choice? Like, I get it, "my body, my choice" & that's fair. But, I don't think that quite fits this specific situation because, personally, I've always believed that when a woman gets pregnant, then it's not just her body anymore. It's also the baby's body, because they are relying on her. So, in an ideal world, shouldn't that baby also get a say in whether it gets killed or not?

At the same time, I understand that an unborn child can't really voice an opinion. Like, I'm not an idiot. So I think, instead, the father, provided the child didn't come about via rape, should be allowed to put in his 2 cents. After all, a child doesn't just come about from a woman asexually reproducing. It's not all her!

It's like if 2 people are baking a cake. 1 person provides half the ingredients, the other person brings the other half. The 1st person prep the dry ingredients, the other prep the wet, then they mix it all together & put the resulting batter in an oven. However, the oven itself only belongs to the 1st person. So, technically, you could argue that the end product mostly belongs to the 1st person, but that doesn't mean that the 2nd person did nothing, so it's still, at least partially, theirs too.

It's the same with pregnancy, the father provided half of the baby's DNA & aided in the act that created the child, so even if it isn't his body that carries the infant, then he should, at least, be allowed to way in on the situation!

Now, sure. If he agrees with the mother that she should abort, then there's nothing for it. I don't agree with the decision, personally, & I hate that a life is getting snuffed out before they really get the chance to live, but at the very least, in this situation, with the child unable to voice their own opinion, this would be more fair.

If the man doesn't care or is abusive or is killed or whatever it is; then, yes, it all falls on the mother, but he should still be considered. If the man is dead, then even if it's only a single factor amongst a hundred others, she should still try to determine what she thinks his perspective would be based on what she knew of him & consider it.

The idea of Pro-Choice feels so steeped in selfishness from what I've seen of it. If you don't want a kid, just take the damn pill! Or tell your guy to put that plastic on! Or have the kid & put them up for adoption! You have other options besides abortion, so why is it being treated as the only way?!

Did you know that in NY, it's now perfectly legal to get an abortion literally an hour before a baby is born?? At what point does abortion become infanticide??

[bookshop]

ted lasso (really just way too many thoughts on season 2 of ted lasso)

me, in the middle of wrestling with yet another unwieldy twitter thread that no one will read: fuck it, what if i just made this a tumblr post? i hear tumblr is hot these days

so anyway, i am the last person in the universe to watch ted lasso.

i put off watching it for a very long time because i really hate obnoxious levels of twee in television — at least twee when it's not tempered by cynicism. this is why i barely made it through 2 minutes of OFMD, and why i really hate parks and rec and spent most of the 2010s telling anyone who would listen that it was a bad cheap white liberal political fantasy, only for everyone to eventually arrive at that conclusion themselves, much later.

the first season of ted lasso almost had me, though, because it was just cynical enough to make ted's methodical whimsy feel like a battering ram against pessimism. the whole of season one was very strongly and obviously, dare i say it, hopepunk. and that was just surprising enough to be a hook.

the second season is a lot trickier. maybe it's because i'm bingeing it, but it seems to me like everyone who argued the second season didn't have a point/central theme missed the glaringly obvious explorations of toxic masculinity in every episode. i read a lot at the time it was airing about how the show revealed itself midway through the season as being unexpectedly about depression? but even more than depression i think this season was about toxic masculinity — and especially about nate's struggle with toxic masculinity. when i went looking for reviews for season two, few of the reviews i found even mentioned nate even though it seemed abundantly clear his growing turn towards the dark side was the motivating issue of season 2 — and then, of course, it turned out to be the driving force behind the events of the season finale.

i think a lot of this was underwritten but it was always present; every episode of season two was focused on the ways the men of richmond — especially nate, who also had to deal with his imposter syndrome and everyday acts of racism, alongside his growing ambition and his justifiable sense of feeling sidelined and minimized by the white men around him — grappling with the ways they're socially allowed to express and experience their emotions.

perhaps that theme got muddled because of the show's obnoxiously twee trappings, which became so much more obnoxious this season once all of richmond adopted ted lasso's guide to whimsy (the funeral scene was the most atrocious example, as was the gratuitous way they kept shoehorning in excuses for hannah waddingham to sing, like are you kidding me? I HATED IT and hated it long before we arrived at rebecca 'my best friend's wedding'-ing her dad's eulogy, are you serious, who let this show out of the house). but it's very clear when you marathon.

(when i was discussing this with @earlgreytea68 she suggested that perhaps the show has a tone problem, and that the audience expectation built up by all this wholesome whimsey is for a doubling-down of the "ted vs the vague abstract evil nihilism of the capitalist sporting industry" of the first season. thus, viewers just aren't prepared for a show whose second season is like, "sure, exhausting amounts of wholesome fun, yes, but also in the corner is this character who finds all of this whimsy exhausting, and whose position as a marginalized brown man facing daily microaggressions makes all this performative bullshit a form of petty torture and a way of further alienating him."

I find that show absolutely fascinating, but i think EGT is right and that's maaaaybe not quite the show that season two became, because it was also sabotaging itself by idk implying that santa was real and having hannah waddingham gratuitously sing yet again, and idk that surrealist episode with beard and the pants, and having them stop to reverently touch the "believe" sign yet again. like, we get it, clear eyes, full hearts, etc, but this is not friday night lights, and the pathos that seemed built into 'ted vs the sports industrial complex' feels unearned when the show suddenly does a pivot towards plumbing the psyches of its characters while also still trying to be the king of twee tv.)

speaking of shows that were abundantly twee but never ever obnoxiously twee, i also keep thinking about how ted lasso is probably the closest cultural heir to the gilmore girls we've gotten? irresistibly charming small town meets perky chatterbox main character who distracts everyone from their insecurity with non-stop banter and pop culture references! i am not alone as it turns out because someone made a ted lasso/gilmore girls fusion. (edit: me trying to figure out how New Tumblr works: you mean i can embed this tweet but not interact with any part of it?! YOU MEAN I CAN'T DO CONTROL-K TO HYPERLINK TEXT ANYMORE?! wow wordpress, wow.)

all that said, i do think ted lasso is a show that is far more traditional than progressive. it glibly missteps too often to really age well, even aside from all the obnoxiously twee moments. like, this is a show that wants to confront toxic masculinity, but for plot points it can't think of anything better than drumming up random sexual tension between various straight characters. (and EVERYONE is straight, why is everyone so straight?) it's forced and lazy and so boring, and imo totally unrealistic. the other day i attended a lecture given by a trans woman who casually discussed living with her wife, her other wife, and their husband. these relationships exist, they are real and valid, and by now you'd think media would at least be better about being able to, idk, comprehend them instead of still being stuck decades back, tripping over concepts like cheating and divorce. honestly, catch up, just catch up to what real relationships are like in the 2020s! if murderbot can do it, so can you!

so anyway, I honestly feel really strongly that a resistance to queerness and even the idea of fluid relationships is a canary in the coal mine for forms of regressive patriarchal storytelling. if, in the modern era, a TV show or piece of media can't conceive anything beyond a 1:1 cisgender heterosexual monogamy as its outer limit for what relationships should be/are allowed to be, then i have come to see that as a bit of a red flag that this work is more than likely to be regressive rather than progressive, even if it's masking itself in idk progressive aesthetics or something.

to me, ted lasso exhibits that all over the place. there's the random forced pairings. there's its ambivalence about whether beard/jane is a toxic relationship or a quirky form of chaotic idiosyncratic good. there's the way everyone is straight because, again, really?????? two seasons into an all-male locker room and you can't find a gay character anywhere? (there have been multiple references to juno temple being flattered by the idea of lesbianism without ever actually making her ID as queer, and there was a baffling one-off joke in s1 about a character using grindr, which.... what is the punchline supposed to be???? these things are frankly pretty offensive.)

then there's the age difference combined with the power dynamic between rebecca and sam. both of these are far too great for the show to handwave so easily, let alone treat like some revelatory joyous thing for both of them, without any amount of self-reflection or serious consideration for how it might make sam vulnerable.

there's also the quite frankly absolutely unacceptable number of harry potter references in the second season of the show. we had absolute proof that JKR was an outright transphobe by June 2020, two months before the show was even renewed for a second season — so well before it was being written and produced. so what the hell were these writers thinking? seriously, what the hell?

(there's also me punching the wall over how glibly the show makes TRENT CRIMM, THE INDEPENDENT, just casually toss away his journalistic integrity by giving up the identity of an anonymous source like what the hell do writers think journalists are? a real journalist would never ever ever in a million years think of doing this, just to be clear!!!!!!! if this is meant however to shade the independent for its subpar editorial standards, well then, i have to admit they have a point, sob, but at least the fictional independent quite rightly fired the reporter who did this unethical thing, sob, trent crimm i trusted you, why did you let down the team like this)

even the stuff that does feel genuinely healthy about season two, like all of the therapy and dudes learning to be emotionally expressive often comes off as really gender essentialist. take the two conversations about "girl talk" and "guy talk" that bookend the season. ted's revelation, which he then passes on to the diamond dogs, that sometimes conversations can just be about venting (without needing to lead to an action-item list of things to change) might feel more interesting if it weren't framed as a girls/guys dichotomy. again, this feels so regressive. this show's gender stuff overall feels very idk late 90s to me. or like it exists in a universe where cultural views on relationships are primarily dictated by reality tv; such a show might feel clever and smartly forward-looking in such a universe! but not in the real world of the 2020s where your trans university lecturer casually talks about their three spouses and meanwhile you're quoting jk fucking rowling like it's 2007.

i wish i had something smarter to end this on than "so yeah that's what i think about ted lasso" and also "o hai tumblr it's been a minute"

but it's my day off so i don't have to come up with a snappy kicker. so yeah, i guess that's what i think about ted lasso! hi, tumblr! it's been a minute.

[wooteena]

technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic

also on ao3!

hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3

chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it

-

Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.

But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:

‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’

Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.

And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.

He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’

Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.

As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.

Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.

With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.

They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.

Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-

BAM.

Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground

The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.

“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?

That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.

He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.

The child.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.

“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.

He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.

Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-

Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.

Am I a father now?

What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?

I can’t just take him home.

What’s stopping you?

Oh my God, I’m a genius.

Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.

Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.

He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.

So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.

He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.

The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.

He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.

Shit.

Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.

-

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[bigfan-fanfic]

I wonder if Batdad ever mourned Bruce. The Bruce he knew before the five year disappearance. Cause I’m many ways it seems to him that Bruce left and Batman came back. And yes there are these soft moments where Bruce returns. But they are almost immediately drowned out by Batman.

Oh, absolutely. I've written before, about the night when Bruce brings home a giant penny, and Alfred and Batdad kinda realize that this isn't just some weird phase Bruce is going through and he actually intends this to be what he does with his life.

I've also talked about how a lot of what Batdad puts up with is due to having already been with Bruce so long, living with him since they were little, basically having given up his whole life to be Bruce's emotional rock, and at some point, Batdad definitely mourns the Bruce who left to go train. The Bruce who was getting better, thinking about the future, maybe who would have even built a life with him without needing to be Batman. Another big part of why Batdad puts up with so much is these glimmers of Bruce. Going to the circus and adopting a kid who needed help. Being just so kind to people and children. Those moments where he lets his guard down and smiles at Batdad and kisses him.

For Batdad, Batman is a long series of roadblocks, but he's still hopeful that one day Bruce will return to him. And he desperately fears the idea that Bruce is really gone and all that remains is Batman. Batdad is a compassionate person and a pacifist. He hates to see suffering and does what he can to help everyone. He must hate the part of his life where he sees his sons come home bruised and battered every night. Where his husband obsesses over cases they make professional detectives rotate out on because they're so disturbing they can impact mental health. Where his husband is constantly called back into service that never ends up making a difference.

To be brutally honest, I don't think Batdad will ever really be happy while his family are engaged in the vigilante style. And the classic Batman Beyond type thing, where Bruce is still the same as ever, just forced to be in the backseat to Terry, is the worst future for Batdad. He's trying to get them all out of this life. To do what Alfred could or would not, as a guardian and friend.

Also... I wonder if there's any underlying enabling issues there. Do you think Bruce, somewhere in there, might be jealous of Batdad? Jealous of him, at the very least, for still having living parents? For being able to move past the grief of losing them, even if it was more of an abandonment than a bereavement? For being the kind of man Thomas and Martha would have wanted their son to be, when Bruce himself thinks he cannot? For living up to their expectations when Bruce cannot? I mean, think of it this way. Batdad stayed with Bruce after Bruce's parents died because he wanted to help his friend not to be sad. To protect him. And Bruce has constantly relied on Batdad to be there throughout the years. Bruce never even considered the idea that Batdad wouldn't run Wayne Enterprises while he was gone, that he'd be faithful and wait for him. While Bruce didn't even care enough to make sure he contacted Batdad regularly throughout those five years. Never really asked him if this was what he wanted. Maybe he was scared of hearing "no" for the first time from him. Maybe he was so used to Batdad being his emotional and personal keeper that he didn't even think to ask.