#this must have felt cataclysmic

[arsenic-lobster]

'I inhabit a den, miss -- a cavern, where you would not put your dainty nose. As for my "establishment of servants"' (mimicking my voice) 'they number ten; les voila.'

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya oftentimes wonders what it must have been like, living in Khaenri'ah. Reading the tales of Khaenri'ahn heroes Jean's shared with him, of things he remembered his father mentioning, helped him picture it all. As did knowledge the Akademiya has of Dahri ruins he managed to get his hands on one way or another years later, during his visit to Sumeru.

[ceoofyearning]

All I Want - Cassian

Pairing: Cassian x Bestfriend! Reader Summary: When Nesta Archeron dropped into Cassian’s life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since.  Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him. Rating & Warnings: T/M | Hurt & Comfort, angst to fluff, PAST Nessian, recreational mirthroot use, alcohol, suggestive but nothing explicit (lmk if i miss anything else) Word Count: 4.4k Links: Masterlist

A part of you had always craved to see the rest of the world, and when you got the chance to work in the Day Court three decades ago, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. With how things were, it seemed like the perfect excuse to leave. After all, it’s not as if you had a reason to stay. The mating bond between snapping Nesta and Cassian had made sure of that. 

In many ways, leaving felt like the easier choice - to shed your past and start anew in a court where no one knew you - a clean slate. Mother knows you needed one. 

Your work for Helion involves acquiring ancient texts and artifacts for the One Thousand Libraries of Day. It required you to travel all over Phythian, even as far as the continent to procure these items yourself. You adore your job and enjoy the freedom it affords you, but when you were given the opportunity to go back to Velaris to manage the satellite division connected to the Great Library, a part of you had been reluctant to agree. Coming back meant facing your past. And that, more than anything, was terrifying. 

It has been a few weeks since your return to the City of Stars. Although you didn’t have much time outside of work, you do try to maintain a semblance of a social life. Mor made sure of that. When you first met her a few centuries ago, Mor had taken one look at you, a broken, wingless half-Ilyrian female, and decided that the two of you must become friends. Perhaps she saw a piece of herself in you, in your defiance against a world that was out to get you. 

You had been close friends with Mor in the past, and the moment she heard you were back in town, she reached out to reconnect. You appreciated it immensely, of course. Going back and having to build a life for yourself in Velaris after all these years of being gone seems less daunting with a friend by your side. So when Mor asks you to go out, you try to go whenever you can afford to, desperate to grasp at chances to belong, despite yourself. Tonight, Mor practically dragged you out of your apartment for drinks and to briefly attend a ball in the Moonstone Palace. 

“I don’t understand why Emerie is allowed to pass,” you grumble morosely as you peer up the warmly-lit exterior of Rita’s. 

“Because Em hasn’t been hiding out in the library for the past week,” Mor counters blithely. 

“I was busy,” you retort in vain, knowing full well that all resistance is futile. 

“You’re always busy,” Mor retorts, throwing an arm around your neck. Your friend is clad in her usual skin-tight red dress, exuding self-confidence with each step she takes. You shoot her a look of sheer betrayal, and she laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “It’s for your own good. You deserve to have fun too, you know?” Mor says with exaggerated gravity, which has you rolling your eyes. 

You sigh, and pad after her, knowing there is no use trying to argue now that she has already dragged you here. You practically trip over yourself on your borrowed heels, as you try to adjust the straps of the dress Mor had squeezed you into. It’s a resplendent satin dress with a terrifyingly low neckline and an even terrifyingly high slit up your left thigh. To her credit, however, the black dress fits you like a glove, a testament to Mor’s eye for fashion. With much effort, you banish the thoughts of all your responsibilities and deadlines to the void. Fine, you’ll try to have fun tonight, at least. 

You would've been happy enough with a simple dinner, maybe even some wine, but of course, Mor idea of fun rarely coincides with yours. The initial plan is to have just a few drinks at a nice, quiet bar - catch up a bit, and have a good laugh. But as the night progressed, Mor had piled you with more and more alcohol, and you became more amenable to going along with her unhinged plans. 

It starts with you moving to another bar, then another, until you finally find yourselves right in the middle of the overcrowded dance floor in the Moonstone Palace. To call this gathering a ball would be far too generous. Sometime in the night, the party had devolved to the very picture of debauchery. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled liquor, and bad decisions. It’s a good thing you were drunk enough to not mind the overwhelming press of bodies against you. You could even admit that there’s some comfort to be had in being just another face lost in the crowd - free to enjoy the music, to simply be. The beat seems to reverberate throughout the whole room, through your bones, pulling you and everyone else into movement, like a collective heartbeat. Amidst the sea of nameless, gyrating bodies, that’s where you catch a glimpse of him - a slip of darkness, flickering in and out of view as the kaleidoscope of colors shifts overhead. 

Cassian.

Your attention doesn’t go unnoticed for long. His hazel eyes catch yours, and for a moment, the world stops existing. There is only you, and him and the weight of all the love, heartache and desolation between you. A blink, and reality returns to its normal unrelenting pace.

His muscled frame is evident even from a distance, the outline of his strong shoulders and defined arms visible beneath the blank long-sleeved shirt he wore. Intricate tattoos peek through the opened buttons of his shirt, their dark lines running from his neck, chest, down to his forearms. 

You knew Cassian back when you still lived in the Night Court, fancied yourself in love with his charming smile and penchant for mischief. More than anything, you admired him for his kindness. He had been the one to help you escape the camps, even helped set you up here in Velaris. As a half-Ilyrian female with no wings or any significant Ilyrian power, you don’t doubt that staying would have been a death sentence. Or worse. 

Afterward, the two of you had spent the better part of the last two centuries circling one another. You didn’t know the name of what you had with Cassian, but the two of you had preferred it that way, not wanting to risk your friendship. You never had the courage to ask for more, not even when you desperately wanted to. But when Nesta Archeron had dropped into his life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since. 

Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him. 

You heard from the grapevine that, seven years ago, after a failed explosive engagement and years of falling in and out of each other's beds, he and Nesta had finally called it quits. The eldest Archeron sister, Lady Death, had moved to the ruins of Dusk to seek her own destiny, to carve the story of her glory onto the earth. Cassian, on the other hand, had decided to remain here in the Night Court. 

A glint of recognition burns in his hazel eyes. For you, Cassian had always been the one that got away. Despite yourself, you find comfort in the thought that it might not have been easy for him to forget you, too.

You can feel your heart beat violently against your chest, threatening to break free from your ribcage. You can’t tell whether it's from anticipation, or a deep-rooted instinct that this? This is very dangerous territory, not unlike walking back into a battlefield you just managed to escape. Regardless of your better judgment, a smile makes its way to your lips, because, in the end, you’re happy to see him.

And Cassian smiles back. 

Throughout the night, you watch Cassian from the corner of your eye, and you feel his gaze on you in return. Sometime in the evening, you lose Mor in the crowd, covertly swept away by a gorgeous Ilyrian female in black. You, in turn, are left precariously perched on a stool, nursing a glass of water. You swallow your disappointment while contemplating the logistics of winnowing home whilst being utterly tipsy, and conclude that you’re more likely to be spliced across time and space than to reach your destination. 

Instead, you give yourself a few minutes to loiter by one of the palace’s expansive balconies, trying to get sober enough to depart. You’ve lost your shoal sometime during the party, but the crisp night air feels great against your heated skin, helping clear your mind. You recline against the chaise, before crossing your ankles and shutting your eyes. You stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the muted music and the blessed solitude. 

Your peace doesn’t last long, however. You hear a familiar set of footsteps approach, followed by the telltale groan of the chaise beside you. 

“You’re back,” he sounds breathless, disbelieving as though he hasn’t quite figured out if he’s dreaming. You’d know the calming cadence of his voice anywhere, in the dreaming, even in death. 

“Cassian,” you sigh, just as breathless, just as dismantled by his presence. Finally, your eyes flutter open to peer up at him. You swallow the lump in your throat, and he watches the movement, transfixed. 

You drink in the sight of him like you’re lost in a desert, and he’s the only oasis to be found. His long, wavy locks of midnight-black hair cascade over his shoulders, half pulled back into a disheveled bun behind his head. Loose curls frame his rugged features. He looks sharper, hewn from the toughest steel, but there was a familiar warmth in those hazel eyes.

“I thought I saw you,” he smiles, and your mind nearly implodes at the sight of the dimple on his right cheek. Memories flash, and you remember languid afternoons spent pressing kisses over the same dimple, your nose buried in his neck, your hands tracing shapes over his chest. The moment his hand lands on your knee, however, you snap out of it.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” you notify him pointedly because you are done giving pieces of yourself to this man, no matter how charming he can be, not without anything tangible in return.

He raises his hands over his head, as if in surrender, all the while giving you a crooked grin, “Hey, my intentions are pure, Sunshine. I just wanted to catch up.”

And that statement would have been perfectly fine, you think, if he hadn’t just called you that. Sunshine. God, how you used to love every time he said it, how your heart soared every time he spoke those two syllables. It made you feel special, seen. Now, all it leaves is the scent of smoke in your lungs and the taste of devastation in your tongue

“Cassian, Please,” and you hope to The Mother you sound casual, light, sarcastic even; and not like you’re about to swallow your own damn tongue. “Your intentions are as perpetually black as Azriel’s shadows.”

“I resent that,” he huffs petulantly. “I’m perfectly capable of having a chaste conversation.”

“Right.” You laugh, a real one this time, and Cassian holds his chest in feigned offense. “I just got back, and the first thing you do is lie to me? For shame, Cassian, for shame,” you tease, and a lovely shade of pink invades his cheeks, much to his chagrin. 

As you settle further into the cushions, you ask, "What have you been up to? Those Illyrian Warlords still giving you trouble?"

Cassian leans back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I hardly involve myself in the military anymore," he admits, his tone tinged with an equal measure of relief and exhaustion. "I'm tired of the battlefields, the bloodshed. I’ve seen enough of it for several lifetimes. I want to build, not to destroy; to something new, something greater than myself."

And that’s when you see it - the weariness from the weight of all that violence, from the stains those lost lives have left on his hands. They may have called him the Lord of Bloodshed, and he may have been good at it even, Cassian - at his core - has always had a kind and tender heart. You don’t blame him for wanting to leave that life. 

You nod in understanding. “What are you going to do?” you ask, curiosity piqued.

A spark lights up in his eyes, and his smile returns, softer this time. “I’m not entirely sure yet,” he confesses. “But I want it to be something that helps people, that brings more good into the world. The Valkyries were a great start, but I want to build a place for people like us, my mother, the outcasts - a safe place for all the females, the children and the bastards brutalized by this world. I want to give them a chance for a kinder life.”

Your chest aches, and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. “That sounds wonderful, Cassian.”

He squeezes your hand gently, his eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

He studies you for another long moment, hazel eyes taking you in like he’s seeing you for the first time, as if you held the answer to a question he’s spent a long, long time asking himself. His gaze softens.

As the evening stretches on, you and Cassian talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing effortlessly like the constant ebb and flow of the Sidra. Despite what happened in the past, this thing between you two feels natural, almost as if no time has passed. Sitting there with him, you realize how much you've missed this, missed him. Cassian had been your savior, your family, and your closest friend before everything went wrong, and perhaps, that’s the one thing you mourned the most: his presence in your life, regardless of who he was to you. Reconnecting with him now felt like being ripped apart and remade all in one breath. 

Then, he pulls out a pipe from his pocket, and promptly sticks it in between his teeth. You watch, half mesmerized by the way he lights it before taking a slow, steady drag. He breathes it in with practiced ease, before releasing a truly remarkable cloud of smoke. He must’ve noticed you staring because he looks at you and wordlessly offers you a puff. “Remember this?”

You eye him dubiously, “How could I forget.” It’s the same gem-encrusted pipe you had given him as a joke all those years ago, knowing how much he hated unnecessary finery. He had stared at it in horror when you first presented it to him years ago. That he kept it surprised you. 

Memories of the two of you locked in his room come into mind. Your lips on his, bodies entwined as a bowl of mirthroot burns at the bedside table. 

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t do mirthroot anymore?” He asks, his grin growing wider. “What is it? Forgotten to have fun?”

Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you retort instead, “I haven’t.” 

“Prove it then,” he challenges, as he taps off some of the ash that has accumulated in the mouth of the pipe. 

You shouldn’t, really. But it’s been a shitty night, and an even shittier month. Mor was right. You’ve been running yourself ragged. And, in truth, you just needed a night where you could forget the rest of your life, even if it’s only temporary 

“Well,” you say as you take the pipe from him, “If anyone needs a bit more mirth in their life, it would be me.”

Cassian chuckles, “And me.” The two of you mime clinking glasses as a show of commiseration, before bursting into raucous laughter. 

You toy with the pipe for a few seconds, turning it over your fingers. It may have seemed like reluctance, but in reality, you were trying to remember the last time you allowed yourself to relax. You realize that it has been a very long while. With one deep breath, the earthy smoke fills your lungs, and you let it linger before you breathe it out. Not without being hit by a coughing fit though, much to Cassian’s amusement. 

“Don’t,” you warn him. 

And of course, he doesn’t heed you, and instead says, “You’re adorable.” 

Before you can say anything else, he takes the pipe and squeezes himself beside you onto the scant space left on the chaise. You let him. It is as though the two of you can’t help but gravitate towards each other, twin stars pulled together by the same cosmic force; even after everything, even after years of silence, of insurmountable distance.

The chaise makes an impressive effort to hold the both of you, and it takes some truly impressive maneuvering for the two of you to fit. He’s turned towards you while you lay half-sprawled across his chest, your leg thrown over his thighs to lock around his calf. His wing curls over you, encasing you within his warmth. Your hand is over his chest, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart echoing your own. It's comforting to know that, even after all that has happened, the two of you still fit together like long-lost pieces of a single puzzle.

“Here, let me,” he takes another hit, easily inhaling and exhaling the silvery smoke as if that alone is enough instruction. He hands it to you once more.

You give him a withering look, but take it from him anyway. Once more you try your best to take the smoke in, but it elicits another coughing fit when you breathe it out. 

“Mother’s tits,” you mutter between coughs. Meanwhile, Cassian looks far too delighted at watching your miserable attempts to get high. 

“Do you want me to help?” he cryptically proposes with a hopeful look on his face, and you see the question for what it is. “You can say no anytime,” he assures you. 

In lieu of an answer, you inch closer, your face angled to fit with his, and you wonder if this is how a sunflower feels when it turns to face the sun. He only gives you one of his unfairly dashing smiles, before he takes another long drag. But this time, he keeps it in, as he cups your face and presses his thumb down your lower lip to coax your mouth open for him.

“Like this,” he whispers, his lips a mere centimeter away from yours. You’re practically vibrating with want, counting the infinities between seconds before you can taste his lips again. The smoke escapes his lips in languid swirls as you pull him down by the nape into a kiss. 

Cassian smiles against your lips.

The world is gradually shifting around you, like tectonic plates converging to recreate the world anew. The both of you shudder at the contact. This isn’t a cataclysm, not a world-ending explosion, but a realization, an answer to an overdrawn question. Cassian kisses you like he’s got all the time in the world to spare. It’s a languid back and forth of shared breaths and the seamless glide of his chapped lips on yours.

The feel of him is familiar and foreign all at once. The taste of rum lingers on his tongue as he licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that comes out of you unbidden. You don’t know how long you stay in that hazy bliss, reacquainting yourselves with each other, just breathing the other in. 

But when he pulls away, he tugs on your bottom lip as if to make a final point. And what a totally valid point it is. You are convinced - so convinced, in fact, that you decide you aren’t going to smack him over the head for ruining you completely. The smug smirk on his face, by all means, would normally piss you off, but you find yourself smiling back instead.

“Was that better?” He inquires, batting his doe eyes at you innocently like he hadn’t just obliterated all rational thought in your head with his touch alone. 

“I can’t tell…” you trail off in feigned consideration. “I think you’ll have to do it again, just to be sure.” 

His nose scrunches in the most adorable way as he scoffs. Nonetheless, he humors you, lifting the pipe to his lips and inhaling another long drag.

“This is purely for science,” you inform him, running your thumb tenderly over his cheekbone. 

He nods in mock seriousness, before adding, “An experiment of sorts.” 

“Exactly,” you agree, as you tug on the curls on the back of his head to pull him down for another kiss. 

Cassian offers to fly you home, and you accept despite the both of you knowing that you’re perfectly capable and sober enough to winnow back on your own. Cassian scoops you up in the cradle of his strong arms, and you can’t help but let out a small gasp as the massive shadow of his wings unfurl. With a few beats, you’re in the air, soaring high above the mountainside. You barely have the presence of mind to erect the barrier for the two of you to keep the cold at bay. 

The flight to your apartment takes longer than it should because Cassian can’t keep his damn hands to himself long enough to take seven consecutive wingbeats. You indulge him, of course. With your arms around his neck, his lips find yours time and time again. Below, Velaris is a spread of starlight, like a reflection of the night sky overhead. You’ve got no viable defense for your actions, only that you missed him immensely, and deep in your soul, you know you still want him. You’re afraid that you always will. 

But as you arrive at your apartment, the both of you walk up to the door. Cassian tells you he’ll see you tomorrow and moves to leave you with one final peck on the lips, but you maintain your firm grip on his collar.

“You’re leaving?” You ask, your brows scrunched and your mouth agape. 

He chuckles at your confusion, his lips once again to that signature crooked grin you adore far too much.

“Oh? Did you want me to stay?” he asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a painfully gentle touch.

You huff out an exasperated breath, giving him a pointed look. “Cassian, if I didn't, you wouldn't even be here,” you retort, trying to mask the warmth his gesture ignited. 

“Why?” He presses further. “What did you have in mind, pretty girl?” 

That truth is this: you don’t think you could bear parting with him again, not when you just got him back. You don’t think that losing Cassian is something your heart can survive twice. 

His hand makes a slow descent from the back of your head, to your cheekbone, then to your jaw before gently tipping your face up to meet his gaze. A shiver runs down your spin at the intensity of his gaze. 

Cassian languidly leads you against the wall, pressing his body against yours. You can feel the evidence of his want against you, while he begins to leave butterfly kisses on your neck.

“Hmm?” He urges again, in between kisses. “C’mon, tell me.” Then, he tugs on your lobe lightly, before whispering against your ear, “Tell me all the lovely thoughts running through your pretty little head.” 

A shuddering breath leaves your lips in response, your body reflexively arching into him. He slots his muscled thigh in between your legs while keeping a firm grip on your hips. Cassian, it seems, is as intent on keeping you as you are him. 

“Cassian,” you plead, “stay.” Your chest feels like a supernova on the verge of extinction. Fear and longing grip you in a hurricane of emotion, threatening to swallow you whole.

For a while, Cassian just watches you, completely laid bare for him, his to keep or his to break. 

“Cassian,” you repeat, the desperation in your tone palpable. 

He raises his hands in mock surrender once more, reminiscent of earlier that night, before saying, “Say please.” 

“I hate you,” you retort, but your body tells a different story. Without your approval, you realize your hands have slipped under his shirt, reflexively exploring the familiar terrain of his skin, while your lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck. 

Cassian sighs, melting beneath your touch, his playfulness giving way to a look of pure adoration. With an expression that leaves no room for doubt, he whispers, “Liar.” 

“Guilty,” you confess. 

He matches it with a confession of his own, “I love you.” Cassian's gaze is unbearably soft, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. His voice is raw with sheer sincerity. "I've never forgotten you, never stopped thinking about you."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, the world pauses, forgets what it is to breathe. You search his face, seeing the truth reflected in forest eyes. A mixture of relief and joy washes over you, like a stream of cool water over scalded skin. Every moment you’ve shared, every glance, every touch, each joy and regret - has led to this moment.

You lean in closer, your forehead resting against his. "I love you too, Cassian,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I never stopped.”  At that moment, you’re certain that The Cauldron had made a mistake because every part of you is perfectly aligned with his, fitting together in a way that no one else ever could.

“Stay,” you implore him once more, your voice soft but earnest.

“Only if you promise to go on a date with me,” he says against your lips. 

You blink blearily up at him, your mind still lost in the moment. “A date?” you ask, almost in wonder. There was a time when the two of you spent everyday together, back when you were in the purgatory between best friends and something more. But in retrospect, you’ve never gone on an actual date. Despite everything you’ve done so far, the thought of going out with Cassian is what sends your heart racing.

“Okay,” you finally agree, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cassian’s smile is radiant, a bright light in this wretched world. And for the first time in a long while, you look forward to the future. 

Author’s Note: Hello! I’m new to this fandom & I’m so down bad I started writing fics again. I’d love to hear your thoughts 💙

+ This was literally supposed to be just Cassian + shotgunning but now there's plot so here we are.

[umbrellacam]

Azrael: Agent of the Bat #56 - No Man's Land Dick: "Scared, kid?" Tim: "Not really. A little nervous, I guess." Tim: "Who am I kidding? I'm scared. I feel like those soldiers must have felt right before D-Day." Dick: "D-Day, as in World War Two? You must stay awake in history class." Tim: "We're only up to the Spanish-American War, but I saw the Spielberg movie. Really bloody." Dick: "I hope it doesn't get that bad." Tim: "It won't, will it?" Tim: "Will it?"

Okay, several things I enjoy about this moment.

1. I'm just being so well-fed in terms of great Dick & Tim interactions in this era. Cataclysm, Brotherhood of the Fist, Road to NML, breaking into NML in Robin #67 with classic annoying-older-brother!Dick and Tim panicking about his safety when Dick does a quick death fake-out (typical, honestly lol)... And now with an introspective moment to themselves in the calm before the storm - in Azrael's book no less, lol! I wonder if this came from Dennis O'Neil as something he wanted to include or if it was collaboratively planned as a building-tension moment by the writing/editing teams plotting NML.

2. Tim confiding in Dick my beloved <3 But also - Tim lying at first that he's not really scared, before deciding to just be honest. He has these moments of such earnestness at times (not only with Dick (also YJ, Bruce, Steph, Cass), but often) and they're even more striking because of how prone he is to lying, secrecy, glossing over things and pretending to be fine, etc. most of the time.

He's still pretty young here, barely 15 if that, and his tendencies definitely get worse over time, but he's already wrestled with lying to his Dad, Ariana, Steph, and his other friends, already pretended to be fine to Dick's face in Contagion and Legacy when he was actively dying or under threat of doing so again, refused to tell his Dad he was ever even sick, lied to Bruce's face about Secret, etc... It just sticks out to me so much whenever he chooses to go - yeah, okay, I'll be open with you right now even if it makes me vulnerable.

3. Dick not answering him!! Is that last panel, where we can't see him over Tim's shoulder even though he's positioned right behind him in the others, implying that Dick straight up vanished in order to avoid having to lie or be vulnerable himself lmfao? (I mean, probably not, but the thought is v. funny.)

On the other hand, Dick's silence as a type of honesty and vulnerability in and of itself... We know that as much as Dick likes teasing Tim, he also likes to comfort him, to be that figure of strength and reassurance to him. For him to be the one asking Tim if he's scared in the first place, and then not be able to scrape up anything more than "yeah, hope it doesn't get as bad as literal D-Day" and foreboding silence when Tim admits that he is scared...

It makes me think of that contrasting moment in Murderer/Fugitive later on, where Dick does tell Tim the comforting lie, that he'll always be safe with Batman and Nightwing, that everything will be okay, and desperately wants Tim to believe it.

No such comforting lies in No Man's Land, apparently.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi folks, it’s Mint.

I’m on a mini-vacation this week so I’m going to be releasing some recommendation posts for things that aren’t related to requests (easy to queue), and I’ll be back to doing regular rec posts when I get back!

THEME: TTRPGs For Palestine.

This is going to be a list of recommendations of games that you can get in the TTRPGs for Palestine Bundle. There’s plenty of games in the bundle that I’ve recommended before, so I’m going to try and focus on games I haven’t talked much about before. You can look at the bottom of this post for some of the greatest hits!

The bundle is on until June 29, so make sure to pick it up before it's too late!

LORDSWORN, by Mareensmusings.

You rode to war at the call of your God, swore yourself to Their divinity as the drums of war beat from every corner of the Pantheon. Standing beside your divinity, Their purpose so clear and noble, you felt immortal. Beside your fellow Lordsworns, you felt your victory a certainty, battle but a trivial formality.

Now They lay dead before you, Their Godblood flowing into the dirt. Already the world lurches in distress, twisting at the loss of a God, one of many to die this day. Your Captain, too, lies broken, entrusting the survivors of your Company to the you. Of the thousands who rode out, you are all that remains of your Company.

Your God is dead. You only have each other now.

LORDSWORN is a GMless TTRPG for 1-4 players of tragic, fragile stories of desperate survival and comradery at the end of the world. In LORDSWORN each player takes on the role of three soldiers who swore themselves to a (now dead) God during the Cataclysm, an apocalyptical battle that saw all the Gods of the Pantheon go to war. With their God dead and the world churning and reeling from the death of the Pantheon, you and a handful of survivors must make the trek back to the only place that makes sense anymore – Home. 

LORDSWORN is a collaborative game that guides your group into the story of a company, of which each player will control 3 Lordsworns. Your characters can be chosen from a list, or drawn randomly using a deck of cards. You navigate the game over four stages: world-building, company creation, the journey home, and the epilogue. The game is designed to be tragic, even if your company makes it all the way home. The core rules are built off of Caltrop Core, which means that you will rely mostly on d4s anytime you have to roll dice, but unlike many other Caltrop Core games that I’ve seen, the system is less focused on chance and more focused on oracles. If you want a game of tragedy that focuses on the story rather than the characters, you might want to check out Lordsworn.

Lamplighter’s Festival, by ira prince.

The lamps have been there for as long as we can remember. The lamps have never been there, and only appear for tonight. The lamps are strange and new — we’re still getting used to them, making space for them in our lives. We know exactly what the lamps mean, and we’ve committed their history to heart. We’ve forgotten what the lamps mean, even if the gravity of it still hums and shimmers around them. We’re deciding what the lamps mean, weaving their purpose in more tightly every year, every season, every eclipse. Tonight, we light the lamps, and we tell our stories about them.

Lamplighter’s Festival is a map-drawing game about a nighttime festival, and the things it can illuminate about the place in which it’s celebrated. It can be played alone, or collaboratively if you like.

Lamplighter’s Festival uses the random placement of dice to draw out a location, at whatever scale you like. You use the pattern that ensues to create locations on the map called Lamp Locations, which you will elaborate on as you play. At the end of the game, you will have not only a festival, but details about the different elements that are required for it to happen properly, and possibly the cultural meanings behind the festival. If you want a game that helps you build a place and a culture around one specific event, this might be the game for you.

A Labyrinth Like Us, by z.w. garth.

The minotaur city of Ut sits in the center of an endless labyrinth. The labyrinth twists and turns, it folds and rearranges. And from its dark halls pour forth monsters, which tear and smash and destroy.

You are a minotaur in your district's Guard. You respond to the waves of beasts that wreck havoc and mayhem—repelling the danger and protecting the afflicted. You carry with you your hopes for Ut's future, and your fears for its present. Rally with your neighbors to protect one another. Carve a home in the labyrinth.

A Labyrinth Like Us is a 2-page roleplaying game in the OSR/sword dream tradition. It requires 3-5 players, including one Keeper, 2d20 and 2d6, and these rules. 

This game is reminiscent of, but not a direct replication of any specific myth. You play as minotaurs in a labyrinthine city, plagued by horrors that they can only face when working together. Your minotaurs use emotions to empower special abilities, which are mainly combat-focused.

The game is only two pages, with one page introducing you to the setting, character creation, and how to play, while the other provides roll tables and advice for the Games Master in order to make the labyrinth feel dangerous and dark. If you want a game that presents you with a challenge but doesn’t overwhelm you with rules, you might want to take a look at A Labyrinth Like Us.

HYPERMALL: Unlimited Violence, by Rat Bastard Games.

Do you hate your boss? Like, REALLY hate your boss? 

HYPERMALL: UNLIMITED VIOLENCE is a mission-based corpo murder TTRPG about assassinating the rich and famous. Enter the consumerist hellscape of THE HYPERMALL where death is cheap and life is cheaper. HM:UV is an unhinged gonzo meatpunk sci-fi dystopia buzzword game for financial geniuses. 

You're a CONTRACTOR for SLAUGHTR™ - The Assassination App - and your job is to Murder Your Target Without Dying. You're already in debt. You can't afford unnecessary Resurrections when rent is due, and you absolutely do not have health insurance. GET TO WORK. 

Become a mutated killing machine, a psychic murderer, or a cold blooded cyber criminal. Try your best to make ends meet. Die a lot. Kill cops. Get paid.

This is a game of cathartic violence, with random roll tables to help you build a unique character quickly, pulling from d66 backgrounds and meshing together rules from games like Troika and PbtA. Combat isn’t just physical in this game: you can also fight your opponents in the finacial and social spheres, allowing you to take down someone three different ways.

The really difficult part is figuring out how to kills someone permanently, since there’s a resurrection matrix inside the Hypermall that makes death kind of hard to stick. If you want to unleash your fury in increasingly creative ways, you might want to check out HYPERMALL: Unlimited Violence.

Heaven / Hell, by Joel Happyhill.

Hell, The Underworld, Hades, Yomi, no matter what you call it seems like everyone’s ended up here. No one has any memory of their life before, if such a thing even exists. But one thing rings true, none of you want to stick around.

Heaven / Hell, otherwise known as 2H, is a competitive 1 VS 1 tabletop game set in the underworld. It’s meant to recreate the systems and strategies created by traditional fighting video games, allowing you to mix and mach a number of recognizable fighting game archetypes and optional rules to play your dream fighter through the medium of pen and paper.

Heaven/Hell is more like a competitive board-game than it is a tabletop roleplaying game. Your characters will travel across a board as they do battle with each-other, with distance and positioning being crucial in developing a strategy.

One mechanic that seems to help emulate fighting games is the use of the Underdog Token, which is granted to your character whenever you take a Wound in a round of combat. This Token can be spent in the following round to reveal a new Technique or do something called Flash Parry for a second time. You use this ability to halt another player’s move in its tracks, culminating in a scene that you might see in a dramatic fight where two opponents are holding each-other off with their weapons, possibly snarling at each-other as their faces draw close.

If you want the tactical complexity of a board-game combined with the dramatic moments of high-action tv shows, you might want to check out Heaven / Hell.

Hexfall, by Titanomachy RPG.

Stratus Cay is a floating city in the Rift, a digital quantum dimension at the intersection of the smallest black hole in the multiverse and the concept of becoming. The city is made of countless islands, a hyperreal archipelago adrift in flashing interdimensional lights. An infinite smattering of lives, as varied and precious as the stars themselves.

You are a hyperpowered being who came into larger-than-life abilities because of a profound cataclysm. Heartbreak. Grief. The depths. Physical, emotional, multidimensional–something unlocked incredible power in you. People like you have many names across Stratus Cay, but the most common is “Diver,” a nickname derived from their affinity for falling through the Rift, either on dangerous jobs or just for fun. 

Divers’ abilities run the gamut of even the wildest imaginations, and their extreme power and durability makes many of them reckless thrillseekers. The pay is too good and the thrills too extraordinary to turn down the opportunity to go on a dive.

Hexfall takes the tried-and-true method of hexcrawling and turns it on its side, by making your travel vertical; you’re diving from the edge of a floating island and falling into the Rift, retrieving artifacts, harvesting resources, and enjoying the thrills of free-fall. Hexfall has combat, puzzles, and mysteries for you to solve, but it also gives you space to roleplay and get to know each-other’s characters, using a token system for actions like helping out your fellow divers, and signifying when you want to role-play a narratively significant moment between you and another person.

What really stands out in this game though, is the character playbooks. Do you have wings made out of swords? Do you carry the blessing of a giant? Have you embraced the fungal form of decay and rebirth? All of these are possibilities within various playbooks of Hexfall. If you want a game about thrill-seeking and finding meaning in a world that, as fantastical as it is, still demands you work out why you want to live, you might want to try out Hexfall.

Abominations, by Elliot Davis.

They tried to tell you to stop playing God.  You replied, “Who’s playing?” and spliced in another gene. 

What is an Abomination?

A living amalgamation of various forms of flesh, machinery, and whatever you can stick it together with. Some slimy, some hairy, some are covered in eyes. Others are a knot of tongues and fingers. An Abomination is whatever you can imagine it to be, tossed in a blender and put back together.

ABOMINATIONS is a tactile, GM-less TTRPG for 2-6 players. Using a set of letter tiles and some 10-sided dice, you will create one-of-a-kind monsters of your own design. Then take them into the ring for a fight to the last scraps.

This is a game that feels kind of like a biological version of Robot Wars. Instead of constructing robots and pitting them against each-other, you’re creating monstrous mutating piles of flesh and throwing them in the ring. Your characters are to an extent, somewhat pre-defined: each player chooses a vowel, which represents something of your character’s personality, as well as the secret mutation only they have access to. You play using Scrabble tiles, with each letter granting access to specific mutations, from Guns for Arms, to X-Ray Vision, to a Zipper Down the Middle!

If you want a goofy game of slapstick and body horror, I recommend Abominations.

Greatest Hits

Wanderhome, by Possum Creek Games.

FIST, by Claymore.

Apocalypse Frame, by Binary Star Games.

Bump in the Dark, by Jex J Thomas.

[donat-senpai]

Can you please do a platonic Yandere Adrien, Luca with a reader who wants to be in a relationship not with them but like in general, what would they do if they tried to ruin her relationship when she got one and she found out🙏

Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere!

Pairing: Yandere! Adrien x Reader, Yandere! Luka x Reader

tw: platonic obsession, deception, manipulation

Thanks for waiting! I continue to work on fulfilling requests. BUT I have to inform you that I will no longer accept new requests for ladybug. I don't feel inspired by this fandom anymore.

ADRIEN

-The day you confessed your love was the worst day of Adrien's life.

-Your best friend, your closest person, almost a family member suddenly ceased to be important to you.

-You started canceling appointments with Adrien to go on dates with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Adrien was so disappointed and angry. But not on you. You will never be to blame. This terrible man has entangled you in order to ruin everything.

-The first thing Adrien wanted to do was use Cataclysm on your boyfriend/girlfriend. It would be easier that way. Faster. But he didn't want to scare you.

-Adrien needed to be cunning.

-He stole tests from the principal's office and planted them in your boyfriend/girlfriend's bag.

-Your school is prestigious. Such an act will not be forgiven.

-The news of the expulsion of this parasite (as Adrien mentally called this person) made you cry. Adrien was very sorry, but he had to do it.

-A little later, you found one of the tests in Adrien's bag when you wanted to get his notes. It fell out and went unnoticed. Until this moment.

-He realized what happened when he saw the disbelief on your face and the damn test in your hand.

-You asked him accusingly what that meant. Adrien ran through ideas in his head in a panic. Classmates came to the noise

-And he came up with…

-They (the pest) must have planted it. They were jealous and wanted to frame Adrien.

-His classmates quickly supported him. (He always knew that his good reputation would come in handy someday)

-How can kind, dear Adrien be capable of such meanness?

-Your mistrust hurt Adrien. How could you doubt your best friend? That person is a bad influence on you. Perhaps you shouldn't date them anymore.

-You felt ashamed

-It’s hard to leave, but your friend is there. He will help you write a goodbye message for them. He'll even send it for you.

-Adrien will free you.

-Your friendship will be safe again.

LUKA

-Three days. For a whole three days, Luka waited and hoped that you pranked him.

-Hope disappeared when you introduced Luka to your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Luka still didn't understand how this happened. He was always there.

-Your happy face brought joy to Luka endlessly. He allowed this relationship to exist.

-He was ready to endure and listen to conversations about this person as long as it brought you pleasure.

-But the days passed, and you smiled less and less.

-Of course, your new boyfried/girlfriend became the problem.

-Luka began to unobtrusively push you towards breaking up. Why do you need a relationship in which your partner only upsets you?

-The guy’s patience finally ran out when you came in tears and said that you saw Him/She hugging someone else.

-If Luka were not a restrained person, he would have akumatized to take revenge. But you needed comfort.

-For the next couple of days, Couffaine stubbornly thought about getting rid of the obstacle once and for all.

-Your ex gave him the idea himself.

-They persistently tried to contact you. You didn’t want to communicate with him/her and gave Luka your phone so that he could delete the messages. Luka used this against him/her.

-Luka convinced you to block your ex on all social media. And the letter from the mailbox explaining that he/she hugged his cousin was replaced with another one - with threats. It was not difficult to fake the handwriting following the example.

-Photos taken without your knowledge were thrown into your school locker.

-No one could ignore something like this. Your parents finally went to the police.

-Luka invited you to stay with him while the trial is ongoing. His family didn't mind, and yours decided that a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

-The guy felt bad that he had to scare you. He mentally promised to compensate you for all the ruined days.

-Everything was going great until you found all these damn pieces of paper. Copies of your ex's fake letter. Dozens of unsuccessful attempts to forge handwriting.

-Why? Why did you open this box? Why did he forget to throw it away?

-Luka was terribly upset. But he knew what he had to do. He has to correct his mistake.

-He pushed you into the closet, snatching the letters from your hands, and locked the doors.

-Luka hastened to get rid of the evidence.

-He'll think of something. Without proof, no one will believe you. He will say that you had a fight with him and after everything that happened, you are simply confused.

-He will tell you over and over again that there were no letters until you both believe it.

-Luka did all this for you. You will understand this. He will always protect your friendship.

[neosero]

[ 01:15pm ]

and sometimes you have to remind yourself they’re gods

p.ii | fontaine version

[ 12:30am ] and yet, you still resist

word count | 7.5k total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; excessive use of the word ‘you’ sorry lol; rushed fiction; dark themes [ ? ]; violent/gory descriptions [ ? ] ( venti ); false descriptions of the archon war, implied kidnapping ( zhongli ); false post-cataclysm descriptions; inazuma spoilers for new players ( ei ); implied sag!au ( nahida ); version 3.2 spoilers and beyond ( special mention o.o );

if you find any of these warnings uncomfortable scroll away. viewer discretion is advised.

THE ANEMO ARCHON Lord Barbatos | wc. 1.5k+

Venti had always been known to chug down one too many kegs of wine when given the chance.

Although he slurs about the price going to his tab, it is always you who has to fix up every mess. Whether it be ending fist fights, pleading with angry bartenders or paying half his tabs in compensation, the guy really knows how to ruin someone’s night.

“It wasn’t my fault this time.” Venti’s whining starts right off the bat, not caring that you have barely made it any distance from the bar. It's clear with the way he stumbles that he has long since past his limit. Your arm securely holds him by the shoulder opposite of you, an attempt to steady his wobbly footing although the sigh from his lips tells you he believes the touch is something else. 

“I don’t need your excuses, Barbatos.” Your words are hushed but still harsh. His body deflates at the sound of his name used in such a tone, however he still refuses to relent.

“I promise you it wasn’t me who started it. The guy was…mouthing about everyone in there; he started saying nasty stuff about Brook’s drinks, called my music terrible and he then started…” saying things about you.

Well the guy attempted to until Venti stood from his stool, the force of the movement - or so he explained - must have tipped the drink over and spilled all over the poor guy’s clothes. Of course he got angry, who wouldn’t but when he started shouting about payment that’s when things took a turn. When Venti declined and left to grab another bottle the guy rushed him. It wasn’t his fault the guy was so drunk he missed the swing and stumbled off so badly he tripped and broke his nose. But it wasn’t like you were gonna believe a word coming from his mouth, he’s played the intoxicated card too much for it to have just been an accident this time around.

“I know you pushed him.” He opens his mouth to retort, “I know you pushed him because candles just don’t blow out within a closed bar with no windows, Barbatos. I know you pushed him because that man explained it felt like he was being shoved into the ground when he fell, Barbatos. I know you pushed him because this has been the same story with you for the last three weeks! By the gods, what has gotten into you?”

You’ve both gotten far enough from Springvale to talk freely, but hearing your voice carry in the winds of the quiet forest hurts a lot more than being scolded in front of the dozen or so citizens. You come across an abandoned supply wagon and take this as a moment to stop. By helping Venti up the back of the wagon to sit on its edge, you take the time to look him over. It is always surprising how he comes back unscathed from every encounter; not a single hair out of place, nor smudge of cheap alcohol anywhere on his clothes or lingering scent of said alcohol anywhere in the air - only noticeable when close enough to his lips. Venti sways in his seat, head hung low like a child who's been told off by their parents and sometimes it feels like just that. You sigh.

“I’m not upset with you.” The change in your tone makes his head raise and a noticeable color return to his face.

Yeah, just like a child.

“I just wish you’d fix whatever you have going on with you right now. I have a lot on my plate as is with the Knights of Favonius and getting everything I can with that Snezhnayain diplomat. I had to leave a meeting that could have been a pivotal breakthrough with them today because of you!”

You don’t see it with how you fix the legs of your armored plating, but Venti rolls his eyes. He knows about the plans of the Cryo Archon. He knows a lot more than what he lets on to the traveler or anyone else who inquiries about the matter; there's a reason he normally steers clear of the Adventures Guild’s Katherine. Still the more he relays the information to you, warnings upon warnings of caution, you don’t listen. It is demeaning knowing what little trust you have for your own god, let alone having to continue this conversation every night.

“...and you might not take this seriously, Venti, but it's really disappointing.”

“You're more disappointed that I ruined date night.” Venti had tried to hold it in, he really did but hearing you praise that woman Signora over giving praise to your own archon would make any one of Celestia’s chosen snap. He stands then, the most sober movement he has had all night and you scoff.

“Oh may Celestia take me now! This again? For the last and final time I am simply working with the women. It’s my job and whatever I do shouldn’t matter to you.”

“And why is that?” 

“Because you are a god!” The winds pick up, there is a clear green gleam in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “People offer prayers to you daily. They work and celebrate all in your name. You used to split mountains, Barbatos…What I do should be insignificant to the eyes of someone like you: our supposedly high and mighty deity.”

“It's high time you act like it.”

There is a heavy thudding in the distance, you turn around missing the clear shake in Venti’s hands. The wind rages on stirring the clouds above but you don’t care as you catch sight of a Mitachurl barreling in your direction. Clearly your shouting stirred it somehow and with how fast it's charging there is no room to run.

You draw your sword and stand in front of Venti as protection, “Damn. We’ll continue this later.” He’s gone quiet and when you dare to look away from the charging beast to see your archon, your skin runs cold. He’s bleeding in his right hand, fist balled so tight he shakes as he breaks skin and it runs down to evaporate before it hits the ground. His lyre rests in his left but it's different; the strings, once a vibrant glow of green, run a deep dark red almost the same color as the blood on his skin.

“Vent-” you begin to call out but the words are cut off by the heavy shout before you. You turn your neck quickly to see the Mitachurl with its ax raised high, about to strike. When had it gotten so close? You brace yourself ready to hold off the blunt force as best you can, turning again to shout for Venti to move.

But he strums his first note.

This sound is far different then what you’re used to. What was once a gentle, harmonic strumming of a lyre blessed in the winds, now feels dissonant. The sound is a deep vibration one that could only be described when hitting the wrong keys at the end of a piano in quick concession. A sound you feel breach into the roots of your lungs and pry out all the air you have stored.

You can’t breathe.

The sword falls from your hands as you frantically clutch your chest. Your legs wobble and your head is hammering, the need to breath is overwhelming but with every harsh breath you take in it all seems to be sucked out.

“Barbat-”

“You want a god. I’ll show you god.”

Barbatos strums his second note. 

This sound has a higher pitch, the noise most quickly catches you as that of a violin when you bring it’s bow down with a little too much pressure against the wrong chord. There’s a force to this note, one you must assume was the same the guy at the bar felt as you are shoved into the wagon. The force of the blow leaves you more winded then you were before. All your strength feels drained from your body and your knees give out. There is no time to recover though…

Not when Lord Barbatos pulls at his third and final string.

You don’t register this one, the ringing in your ears and overall loss of oxygen leaving you closer and closer to the brink of unconsciousness. Even so you watch him toy with the string. The wind has picked up and now you notice the Mitachurl raised in the air, it struggles with its head thrashing about. Venti turns to you, a smile crazed and eyes dim.

Then he lets the string go.

It's hard to watch. Wind isn’t a visible thing, but in this very moment you pinpoint just where the breeze shifts and changes as it tears through the beast limb from limb. Arms and legs twist and bend, its chest constricts slowly and its head rotates like an owl with a chorus of loud cracks of bones; if it wasn’t for how close you feel to the brink of death yourself you know the sounds of the snapping and screams would have killed you alone. Barbatos stares still. 

It doesn’t last long, the sheer horror of it all ends quickly as the Mitachurl is compressed into the origin of the tornado it's caught in until it blows in a rain of blood. The loss of oxygen finally gets to you as your eyes drift but not before seeing the finale of your oh so mighty deity. 

He stands unmoving as the blood pours down in a shower along his face, eyes now closed, “disappointed in your god now?”

THE GEO ARCHON Rex Lapis | wc. 1.6k+

Six-thousand years ago, the start of the Archon War.

A long and painful four-thousand years of battle over a couple seats at the throne that was already predetermined. Four-thousand years wasted away killing friends and family and loved ones for power they themselves now wish to throw away. A lot of gods didn’t want to be a part of this…holy massacre - or whatever these scholars wish to paint it as - and you were one of them. You were given many names for your time: Theia, Anthos, Gia. The only thing that remains certain within all books of history is your ability to create elemental stones.

Ascension silver, within today’s terms, was a skill none could manage; for being a god who could bond to a multitude of elements at once was beyond even the original seven of Celestia. The gems you produced offered various needs opposed to the power of visions; pyro silver for warmth, hydro silver to be shattered and give rain, geo crystals for fortitude in times of terrible weather, dendro crystals to fertilize plants, cryo silver to cool in the warmer weathers and electro silver to strengthen weapons for combat. It all could be found in the midst of your domain.

Your domain resided in the Huaguang Stone Forest, within the underbelly of Mt. Aocang. It was just a large hollowed cave filled with crystals and home to a small community of humans. They traded off the crystals you produced, for food and supplies, holding festivals and village gatherings under your name. When they needed protection, your crystal walls provided and the Vishaps, organic creatures of your creation, helped protect those from outside.

All was good, all was at peace. 

Until six-thousand years ago, the start of the Archon War.

Tremors grew in both number and extremity over time. Your people starved and scared as trade drew to a halt and more and more outsiders flocked for your domain for protection. The energy of fellow gods and people you once thought would grow old together die out like the stars one by one. However, within your domain all was good, all was at peace, all was protected.

Or so you thought until you met Rex Lapis, the self proclaimed God of Geo, four-thousand years ago during the Archon War.

He requests your assistance, he speaks of monsters and demons emerging from the earth of Guili Plains and that without you they would consume the earth and all within it. You were hesitant to believe him, not when he stormed in covered in the blood of gods and an army of yaksha armed tooth and nail to your fortress of peace. When you speak of the wellbeing of your people he promises to ensure their safety with a few of his yaksha, but when you question him further its General Musatas who warns you to watch your tongue when speaking to one of the chosen seven. Thinking back about it now that should have been the first sign of danger; putting your trust in a god fighting to be apart of the corrupt Celestia. But your people needed more help than what you could provide alone, and you still young and naive wanted to believe that the word of the god of gods was absolute.

So you leave and for a thousand years you fight for a cause you thought to be pointless. You watch gods die, your crystal shields only doing so much in the onslaught of war. Whenever you came close to being wounded it was Morax who protected you from harm time and time again. Taking the blunt force of claws and the heavy pummeling from Osial, all to keep you from harm's way. You had thought it was admirable…if only that same persistence was there for Guizhong.

When she perished on the battlefield you all were pushed back. In a last stand against the enemy you took hold at Mt. Tianheng, and it was there we prospered. Rex Lapis’ sheer power and battle strategy in command of the adeptus and five general yaksha pushed through for the victory and settlement of Liyue. It was then the god of contracts requested a binding: all remaining adeptus would stand to protect Liyue if danger ever stirred once again.

And once again you were a fool to trust the words of the god of gods. 

For the others were allowed to roam as they pleased until called upon and you were to remain within Liyue Harbor forever at the side of your god Rex Lapis. He claimed it was for protection, your powers being the strongest he’s seen for a lifetime, however you could only recall being of no help to protect the ones you hold dear on the battle field. 

You fight, complain and wrestle against his iron grip but the contract holds still. As the Harbor prospered and grew over the years, it left you with the stronger desire to see your people once again. A request with the yaksha would fall on deaf ears as they were still to handle the aftermath within the Plains, but when talk of corruption and madness spread among the masses you had feared the worst. Against your better judgment you left, you thought the wellbeing of your people is more important than the loyalty you have in some god.

When you return to the Stone Forest, you’re enveloped with a sense of home. You spot Cloud Retainer at the top of the peak, but she is gone before you can offer a wave. When you finally reach the door to your domain your heart drops. The Geovishaps who stand guard are nowhere to be found and the energy of your barrier left so long ago has run dry. Even with the clear signs, you still push forward and believe in the word of Morax.

Still so young and naive.

The domain is bathed in dried blood. There are bodies upon bodies of your people scattered along the floor, their blood painted over your crystals and the bodies of yakshas having killed everyone else looked to have turned against each other. Tears of pure silver fall from your eyes as you make way through your temple, a last ditch effort for hope of any survival…for anything.

Everything lays in shambles - crystal decoration of your own design shattered across the floor, Vishaps of all ages lifeless and unmoving just like the images of the gods all those years ago. What breaks you is what sits at your throne: the remaining villagers all curled together encased in a crystal prison. It was a skill you taught your strongest Vishaps just before your departure, never considering that they would need to use it you had no way of reversing its effects. You fall into a sob, pillars of crystals sprouting just where your tears meet the bloody ground. All hope is lost from you until you feel the looming presence of Rex Lapis.

At first, you're overjoyed.

He could somehow fix this. Given his ability to cleanse gods and shape islands with minimal effort, this could be done by the snap of a finger. You stand with some difficulty, the gems having crystalized at the bottom hem of your garments almost keeping you weighted to the floor as a warning. You pay no mind.

Then, all at once, you’re afraid.

When you reach him, smiling and happy for once to be in his presence, the weight around you feels heavy. The glare of Rex Lapis is stone cold, gold irises like slits of the dragon you witnessed decapitate so many of your old friends. The general Alatus to his left stands armed and ready, and to his right Cloud Retainer - one normally so proud and boastful, hangs her head low behind the god before her. 

“You left.” His voice is calm, a stark contrast to the way he is looking at you. Glaring at you like the enemy. “Well yes.” You begin, a stutter to your voice, “the war has long since reached its close…and with n-no more danger I thought it would be alright to-”

“Danger is always upon us. You went against our agreement.” There's a bass in his voice that rocks a tremor through your body as well as the cave you reside in, its strength leaves Alatus to stumble his footing and Cloud Retainer to dip her gaze that much lower. You, however press on, “I had no plans to be gone long a-and with no word from my home I feared the worst. So I had to-”

His hand envelops your throat in an instant. Rough, scaled fingers grip tightly around you and when you make an effort to speak he squeezes harder. “You had to remain within the harbor. We had an agreement. You swore an oath to me, an oath that was never to be broken.” Frantic fingers grip at his hand, you try to pry him off of you but your body feels like it's being pulled by an unknown force that leaves you weak and him unmoving. He watches you struggle, and somehow in those eyes you see him pleased with the way you whither in his grasp.

“Should I take care of them, Master?” General Alatus’ mask envelopes his face, karmic energy flowing from his body. You shutter as his blade is brought to your sides. Rex Lapis turns his head swiftly, the first he’s looked away from you since he’s got here, and glares harder. In seconds the general is brought to the floor in a shout of pain. In the position he kneels, Alatus clutches the floor in a grip so tight you’d think he was trying to push against the heavy pull of the world’s gravity. “You will hold your tongue until I see fit for your suggestions, General.”

Alatus nods as best he can, body struggling just as much as yours to try and fight against the power of the god of geo. The glow of his scales dims, and the yaksha begins to breathe as he stands on wobbly legs. It is then the archon drops you. You swallow oxygen in desperately and cough it back out heavily as you gaze up at the man before you. When he reaches for you again, you scurry away but not far enough. This time he grasps your arm dragging you away breathless and reaching for what’s left of your home.

He scoffs at your sorry state, “your offense to me isn’t great, but you still will be punished for your disobedience.” You’re helpless to it all, too weak to challenge one of the chosen seven of Celestia. He snaps his fingers and just like all those years ago he takes you from your home.

Back then it was for a cause, an unspoken oath you had no idea would chain you to a man you don’t believe in; but now it's as a prisoner, a powerless god who watches their domain crumble right before your eyes.

THE ELECTRO ARCHON Raiden Shogun | wc. 1.1k+

“Leave us.”

For a moment, you think she sounds disappointed. The guards release you from your binds and you're quick to snatch your wrists away to rub the tender skin. They give stiff bows and with stiff, sharp pointed turns make way for the doors of the Shogunate’s chambers. When they leave the room, Baal and the kitsune Saiguu emerge from the panels behind the back of the throne. Baal is as calm as ever; she sits eyes closed, knees folded below her and her wagasa twirling in her slender fingers as if pondering something. Saiguu seems more openly displeased; her tail rests rigid behind her when she sits beside her own Shogun, she looks concerned as she scans your body and you notice she has left her cigarette holder behind.

You are in real trouble now.

Beelzebul had descended her throne before the guards even walked through the door. She paces in between you and her sister, her strides come to match the tempo of the thunder that increases in volume over the heavy rain from the outside world. When a particularly loud clash resonates through the skies, Baal stops her twirling. “Ei, you’re beginning to cause a stir amongst the people.”

She stops her pacing and so too does the thunder if only for a little. Beelzebul looks you over and it seems that fans her flame even more when her eyes rack over your body. Her gaze doesn’t match that of Saiguu’s though. “You’re wounded.” She finally speaks, it's more at you than to you. The wound is nothing serious, a small scratch to the arm that has left your garments a little bloody but it's really nothing that won't heal by the morning. She moves quickly for bandages, trying and failing to distract herself from imploding, but when she gets close with the adhesive you dodge around her touch.

The first clash of lightning strikes the seas.

Beelzebul sighs and stands, you watch the bandage begin to buzz and spark in her grasp. “Bleed out for all I care.” In an instant, the cloth blows and dissolves in a small show of flames. You flinch.

“Ei-” Baal begins again, her hair glows at the tips and you know she is fighting to calm the storm of emotion that continues to rage outside.

“What did you hope to gain by seeing her again at such a time? We are in the middle of a war of gods and you see it fit to chase a traitor.” 

“Chiyo is no traitor!” You don’t mean to yell, but the way she spits the word ‘traitor’ has your blood boiling. Baal makes no effort to calm you down. “She had been trapped inside the belly of that beast for so long; months fighting her way from the inside out. That could turn anyone to madness…and when she finally emerges scared and confused you try to kill her.”

“She’s become crazed with madness. Something in that beast left with her and a blight like that can’t be cleansed. Saiguu knew the moment she saw her.” You break your gaze to look at the goddess.

Saiguu nods at you even without looking your way, “Not even a cleansing from the Sacred Sakura would have helped. Even being that close I could tell that blight ran deeper than her soul. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head vigorously. There had to be something you could do, even if that meant caging her within the temple for an eternity anything would have been better than more death. “There was something we could have done. I know it. Rukkhadevata would know something; she knows everything. Let me go to Sumera and-”

A dry chuckle bursts from Beelzebul, “It seems you might have been tainted by whatever she had. If you think you are in the right to start making requests now I can assure you it won’t happen. Have you forgotten the current situation: we are at war, not just us but all the gods. You were only lucky enough to get to the forests before I had to save you from that beast.” The air around you feels static. The hairs on your body raise and the wound on your arm feels like it’s being pinched every so often. “Why are you so adamant on leaving my protection?”

“Protection?! Your protection! You keep me imprisoned. I cannot see anyone but who you allow me too. I am followed constantly and whenever I so much as breathe in the direction of the outside world I’m dragged away. You keep me here shielded like some precious doll while everyone else fights.” Baal’s gaze meets yours behind her sister almost there to push you on. “I am a soldier to this nation before anything else and would rather take my chance out there than to live knowing I sat sheltered and protected like a coward with you here.”

Ei’s stunned. A storm ripples through her gaze and for a second you think those purple hues of clouds show shines of rain. 

Instead lightning clashes before you.

The blunt end of her blade is brought to the heart of your chest in a flash. The feeling of its energy pulsing so close makes the tales of its power in battle sound underplaying, stray bolts of lightning bounce off it and reach in to rub under your clothed skin. You jolt. Saiguu makes an effort to stand but Makato raises her hand to halt her advance.

“If you wish to die so eagerly, I will strike you down here myself.”

It's clear she means it; having already slain and severely injured two of her closest friends there would be no hesitation if you had to be next. Makoto finally decides it's time to intervene, her fingers curl along her sister’s shoulder and although Ei doesn’t break away the energy pressing into your chest does decline in pressure if only for a second. “Pain doesn’t last an eternity.”

They don’t even look at each other when she speaks, she just holds her there. You think it has to be something only they could feel as twin gods and hope Makoto wins the internal battle. The sword dissolves in her grasp and you let go of the breath you had thought to be your last. “You're both hurting and you might fight it but it's for the same reason. Chiyo was dear to all of us, so were Sasayori and the others but we cannot let their deaths bring about our own. What would they have fought for? Have died for?” Ei brushes the hand from her shoulder and walks towards the balcony in long strides. 

Makoto does nothing to stop her, choosing it best to let her storm settle on its own then to try and guide its course. She does turn to you, pleading you to understand — her sister only cares for the best of you. You don’t respond, staying glued to the floor while your mind tries to catch up to your heart. Ei pushes into the storm outside that leaves the doors rattling and a chill to the room. Tearing your gaze from the ground you look to your god, she now stands on the ledge head turned up towards the heavy rainfall. She looks almost strangely content with the chaos outside, you could still make out the rotting corpse of the great serpent in the distance. There is a pain bubbling from your gut as your heart still hammers in your chest. Is this the weight you must bear under the care of a god?

THE DENDRO ARHCON Lesser Lord Kusanali | wc. 1.5k+

“Tell me: what do you think shapes a dream?”

You should have known something was wrong the moment Nahida had requested to see you personally. This wouldn’t be the first time one of the archons has requested something like this from you, however Nahida’s tone of voice somehow puts you on edge. The way it echoes in the hollow room she had led you in racks a chill down your spine.

“A dream is made solely by your emotions.” You recall this from your psychology class, the professor was so invested in the topic it was kinda hard to forget. “Whatever fuels that of your wishes, memories and abstract thoughts all tie into what can shape a dream when you fall asleep.” You’ve recited that line so many times before that final exam and still remember being so pissed it was never even mentioned within the test. “However, the worries that rest in the back of your mind might also shift the course of a dream as well.”

“Hmm. I had never thought of it that way.” Nahida curls her hand under her chin thinking, “would that be the same case for a nightmare?” 

“I would assume so…yes.” There is a piece you’re missing in the puzzle of questions. Her curiosity is hiding something else, something that you can’t picture right out but you do feel it with every passing second. “But why would someone try to sleep with negative emotions moving through their head?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you knew this is a virtual world you would have been fooled to see Nahida as the child that she is. Her small frame looks up at you expectantly; being the only person in her world to ever know more than that of her vast case of knowledge, she treats you much more like a new toy to play around with than as the high god everyone else believes you to be. 

That in and of itself is both a blessing and a curse.

“Sometimes it can’t be helped.” You try to not think about it but you tell yourself this everyday now. “It’s something we can’t fight…the negative emotions, they are always with us because we never know what the future will hold.” 

“It's all a random chance of time. One day, you could find yourself on the receiving end of a terrible storm, you could walk straight into dog poop with brand new shoes or you could even walk into a meeting with all your clothes inside out…One day you could lose a loved one, you could walk into a store and see your house in flames on the news, you could even-”

“Be trapped with no way home.” Your eyes widen. Nahida’s head is tilted ever so slightly, eyes squinted and you realize she is studying your reaction, “y-yeah you could.”

“Fascinating.”

You don’t even realize it but your voice waivers, “What is?”

Nahida looks away from you to her holo-screen behind her. With delicate fingers she swipes through files and documents you can’t catch sight of until her little fingers stop on one. You can make out the screen and it looks like a video. She taps it.

A screen materializes before you and the video plays. Image looks like the holding cells of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, but the person within the cell looks like no character you have seen in game at all. It isn’t like you remember every npc within this world, however, each character has similar features that make it obvious in telling who is who. Could this be a new character? There is no knowledge of them in recent patch notes.

Nahida’s voice startles you. 

“Oh…you must be curious? This is user 804897112. Although the name he chose at the start was Starlord, his real name is Chris.”

What?

“It took him four weeks before he slipped up. They hadn’t noticed him as the Creator of that server yet but when he went around sprouting drunk nonsense about the Archon War at Angel Share things took a turn.” You haven’t been watching the screen, too caught up on understanding what Nahida had just said but the scream catches you off guard.

That person. That real life person, Chris, is chained and on his knees before Jean, Rosaria, Kaeya, Diluc and Venti. Kaeya’s sword is jabbed into Chris’ shoulder, Rosaria looks to be trying to get him to cough up any information he knows but you can’t hear anything. Did Nahida only want you to hear that screams? There is a troubled look on Jean’s face like she’s reluctant to continue this, but Venti says something that rouses everyone in the room and pales Chris’ skin. He’s crying now, snotty and nasty as Diluc beelines to him with his heavy blade.

Diluc’s greatsword raises and you gasped in horror as its brought down on Chris’ head. Out of sheer fear you clutch your own neck. Blood seeps out in a sparkle of gold and they all stand as stunned as you, the poor boy’s head tumbling over in the pool of it blood. The video ends there.

It’s hard to breathe and you're given no time to recover yourself as another plays. “This is user 119876532, Diana. She asked questions about Scaramouche’s true origins to the Shogunate. Knowledge no one should possess and again before the establishment of her identity as Creator.” This one carries no build and is from a farther angle atop a tree, like from the perch in the eyes of a bird, but it's all so vividly clear. The girl is tied to her knees before the shogun, spilling out words too quickly for you read and understand. There is no need to though, Ei is as calm as ever. She listen to Diana’s rambling, and for a second you think she might believe whatever she’s saying. Five seconds later, you watch Diana die in the same flash of lightning as La Signora.

You can’t stand now, legs given out in the horror of it all. The videos continue like this until you can’t bear to look at the screen anymore.

User 908765342 crushed by meteorite hurled by Zhongli. User 743828950 — Sam, found dismembered by a pack of hilichurls. Robert gets mauled by a geovishap. Lee can’t take it anymore and…

“Why?” The tears fall from your eyes in heavy waves. “Why show me all this? Why tell me about all these people? I don’t-”

It all connects in seconds: they found out about you.

You move to stand hurriedly and make a beeline for the exit but your feet stay planted to the floor with the sight before you. The Doctor stands grinning from ear to ear. He clasps his hands together with a sigh of glee. “You ask why and it’s simple: you survived.”

He’s on you in an instant, tightly holding your wrists in his hands and preventing your escape no matter how hard you thrash. He breathes into your neck harshly and you sob. He whispers breathlessly into your ear how he has never been this fascinated, this drawn to a specimen before and promises to be gentle in your dissection. Nahida watches you with wide interested eyes as you struggle in hope of saving yourself. You cry out to them, to your guards, to Lumine or Dehya or Thoma. To anyone who would hear you even though no one can. But still…

You scream.

Cyno breaks down your door, his gaze looking over the room hastily to find the culprit to dare stir the peaceful slumber of the Creator.

It was a dream? It was a dream and yet your wrists burn, the images of all those people looked so real.

Was this a sign? Would that happen to you if any of them ever found out? Have they already started to suspect something? What if you don’t ever get out of here? What if-

“Your grace?” Cyno’s hand brings you back to reality, hard. His fingers feel almost frozen over against the skin of shoulder and you flinch away in such a haste it brings crease to his brows. You almost question why he runs so cold but with him looking at you with so much concern you don’t think it's him that is the problem. “Do I need to go get Tighnari? I will only be a couple hours but I could stop by our Archons domain just so-”

“No!” Your voice is filled with fright, but it’s obvious that the sheer volume of your scream is what stuns him the most. You can feel the sweat run down your temple and the pound of your heart so aggressively in your ears. It takes you far too long to compose yourself but you are grateful that Cyno listens and just stands by your side.

“There is no need for all of that. I’m just a little shaken.” He doesn’t seem to take your word for it but when you explain that it was only a dream and not some illness that caused this he is partially relieved. “The doctor won’t be needed for this and it isn’t like this is something of his expertise.” 

Cyno offers a quick nod before he settles in a chair at your desk. He shuffles closer to your bedside with a cross to his arms and a tense raise of his shoulders. You can’t blame him for staying alert; dreams are a new phenomenon within Sumeru and with the few months you have known him, you know Cyno doesn’t do well with handling business he cannot comprehend for himself.

It takes too long for you to finally get calm within the safety of your own bed, but it does help that Cyno — as loyal to you as he once was to the akademiya — stays by your side the whole night. 

It gets hard trying to keep your mind from blurring the line between your life outside and the one within this game. Watching Cyno sleep next to you, the steady rise and fall of his chest is far too detailed for your sensitive mind to keep considering these people aren’t real people. A Sumeru rose, a gift handed to you by a child of the city, loses a petal and you watch the leaf fall then blow in a spark of pixels. You’ve been here too long. 

You need to get out . . . and soon.

THE EVERLASTING GOD OF ARCANE WISDOM : Scaramouche | wc. 1.2k+

You should have known this could have been another one of the Doctor’s tricks.

You are privy to his experiments and know just about everything there is to know about his latest desires as a man of knowledge…but it seems you have gotten too relaxed within his presence to suspect that you were the next pawn to be sacrificed within this long orchestrated game.

Being left to go through with the final reports on the Balladeer’s status without his supervision should have been the first and only sign needed to show you something else was at play here. The Doctor was always to see everything himself, deeming everyone else — even you — inferior to his intellect and prone to time consuming slip ups. Why you would ever trust an order like this for its face value you will never know. But now you can tell it was a mistake.

The laboratory has been cleared on the orders of the Doctor, and yet you feel like you have been being watched ever since you have entered the building.

Since you entered Sumeru for the matter.

Pushing away the chills, you check the sixth harbinger’s vitals. Everything looks to be in order but that is to be as expected; the Doctor had said this could be close to being his greatest creation and that would obviously show in his work. You hum triumphantly and quickly move on to the next task. The body of the Prodigal is kept in a separate room, with how massive the final product came to be it was bound to happen. It is still mesmerizing to know how much raw power is stored within a gnosis on its own. Crazy how an item so small is able to create mass destruction in the world.

Everything seems in perfect shape when you finally reach the test sight. The distant hum of the overhanging lights do little to add any glory to the giant machine before you. Even without eyes its looming figure looks down upon you as if it can tell the significant power difference between you two. Dottore had told you it was nonsense; the Balladeer would be in a state of hypostasis until his body finally converges with the power of the electro gnosis. He couldn’t possibly be able to tell a slime from a hilichurl let alone know when anyone enters the room. 

You find it — much like everything else that comes with interacting with the Doctor —  demeaning. He undermines everyone and if it weren’t for his rank you'd have thought he was just too full of himself. His genius could be on a par with the dendro archon but that's something you’ll never admit even to the nicest of his segments. 

Data shows that Scaramouche is still stable. The gnosis too somehow remains with a constant flow of energy as it diverts power to the main systems. It still eludes you how someone like Scaramouche can handle power as strong as this for as long as he has. Though you do not know the criteria of the ranking amongst harbingers, his order in the hierarchy holds true.

So caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even noticed how close you had gotten to the body. If that presence was intimidating at a distance it pales in comparison to being up close. It towers above like the clock-house in Snezhnaya, arms and hands long and big enough to crush you whole. You shake your head from the thought. 

Your hand reaches to touch the machine. The metal is cold to the touch but there is a sensation of static that travels along your arm the longer you linger there. By the time you move your hand away ready to depart to report back to Dottore, a sudden shock sparks from your hand. You pull it back with a wince. This must be an unforeseen side effect to the gnosis. 

All at once your head throbs with white noise. It starts off faint but then rises to ring above all else. At first you believe it to be a faulty pipeline and look around for any signs of damage but yet again you see the perfectly unharmed lab. The sound is overwhelming and you can feel something pressing into the back of your mind. Memories not of your own flash before your eyes.

The sensations are too much to bear and you collapse when it's all too much at once. The moment you come too it feels different. The buzzing in your arm has spread throughout your body, and the noise that filled your mind is now gone, replaced by knowledge that leaves you weighted to the ground trying to understand it all.

The Balladeer…Scaramouche is…

“Was a puppet.” The voice is familiar and you cannot believe that its real. “A puppet that now wields a greater power than that of the god who chose to abandon him all those years ago.” He has ascended and so soon. Dottore’s notes were foolproof, everything down to the last decimal was precise so how could his hypothesis be false?

Scaramouche offers a snarl, and it's only now that you can register that he is inside your head with his reply, “because Dottore is a buffoon. He will always underestimate someone who he believes he could outsmart at any game, under any circumstance and do so without question. It’s that pride that will be his undoing in due time.” He walks around you, there are long pauses between every sentence and he speaks as if you will be overwhelmed by him just looking in your direction. You don’t know why you feel so grateful for it.

“Enough about him though.” He stops to kneel down to where you lay on the ground. His hand ever so delicately lifts your chin to meet his gaze and he gives you opportunity to look away. You don’t. “Let me see into you.”

Words filter through your head without him even needing to open his mouth. You’ve been connected to him by the soul, a pact between your compatible life force and his new godly abilities that were enforced the moment you touched him through the machine. You’ve been chosen as his first and whatever that entitles you don’t know but you do feel the tears roll down your eyes. Your mind cannot decipher if they are tears of joy or resentment of this new god.

Why are you calling him that?

Scaramouche wipes them away with a wicked smile. “No need for sorrow my chosen. For as your new god I will craft a world for you that leaves no room for those emotions to ever cross your features again. The Everlasting God of Arcane Wisdom will pave a way for your salvation and my glory to rise. So long as you put your faith in me and me alone.”

His hands fall from your face as he stands, but they still remain outstretched to you. The invitation hangs in the air and yet his smile never waivers like he knows what you will choose him over anything else. Like you will choose him over life itself. 

And for a moment you think you will.

a/n: this is very dark of me and really shouldn’t be my comeback post but rewatching nahida’s introduction really had me in the mood to bring our archons back into the light. also yes i am formally back to writing so do expect more posts soon to come.

p/s: furina version will be up as soon as i catch up enough with her character.

[p1nkshield]

Greetings and welcome to Chapter Seven!

Bruce kept checking and rechecking the security footage. One moment his son and the surprise guest were talking in the cave and the next a rift opens up pulling them both through.

“Hn”

Not good.

“Barbara.”

Bruce decided to call in the big guns on this one.

“Hello Bruce, I would say it’s nice to hear from you but considering this is the emergency line I'm concerned. What’s up?"

"Jason is missing."

Bruce let words fall out of his mouth quickly. He didn’t want to make his worries so apparent. He didn’t want to lose his composure. Losing his composure could cause mistakes in his detective work.

Bruce could hear the first few questions that Barbara posed.

"What do mean he's missing? Like he's left the manor? I can try to track him if you want."

Bruce nodded.

Of course he put an inter-dimensional tracker into the comms he gave to all of his children. This was exactly why.

Bruce rechecked the security footage.

For once Jason was actually wearing his.

good.

All the while Barbara was entering something into the computer on her end.

"I'm not getting anything for Jason's location..."

Bruce was truly concerned now.

He needed a lead to latch onto. Something he can focus on to keep his mind from wandering to extreme conclusions. Bruce then reviewed the audio recording from his cameras.

"Take us to Frostbite!"

"Wait!"

Frostbite? Was that a place or a person? Where have they gone that his tracker was out of range? Was it out of range or was it broken?

"You called me before listening to the audio from the security cam?"

"..."

Barbara decided not to press the matter.

"We have a lead, but I'm not really equipped to follow it. The only thing coming up for "Frostbite" is the medical condition and Icicle Jr.'s really sub par band"

Bruce's worry mixed with reluctance.

"Constantine."

"What is this now! Two calls from spooky the bat this year? I'm just tapping my toes with joy. What cataclysmic event do you have for me?"

Jason felt as though he had accidentally caught Superman's cape with his grappling hook.

He wrenched his eyes shut as he hurtled through space via map. Danny on the other hand was enjoying every moment of the journey, grinning as they flew to their destination.

Jason found himself face down among ice, snow and glaciers.

"Great One! It is good to see you, and you've returned the infinimap! You are truly full of surprises."

Jason managed to dislodge his face from the snow bank in time to see Danny being clapped jovially on the back by an eight foot tall yeti.

He could only blink.

"Who is this new guest you've brought with you?"

Jason was then scruffed like a kitten, placed on his feet and had the snow gently dusted off of his head by an eight foot tall yeti.

"That's Jason. He's cool, I promise. I was wondering if you could give us both a check up though. If you haven’t noticed yet he doesn't have a core yet and I'm tinier than usual."

Frostbite looked appraisingly between both Danny and Jason.

"And here I was about to applaud you on finally mastering shapeshifting! No matter, a friend to the savior of the infinite realms is a friend of mine. Follow me! You both shall receive the best care we can offer!"

Jason shuffled through the snow, following an eight foot tall yeti.

Said eight foot tall yeti managed to make Jason feel surprisingly comfortable in his presence. That is until he came to his diagnosis.

"Let me get this straight. I'm basically an infant, I’m ectoplasmicly malnourished, and I will eventually have powers?"

"Essentially, yes."

Danny snickered from a distance.

Jason really missed being a regular old zombie.

"What if I told you that I do not believe you?"

Frostbite mirthfully chuckled.

"If that were true I would ask you why you survived drinking ectoplasm."

Jason conceded.

"Ya got me there."

"That I do!"

Frostbite then addressed Danny

"Great One, I must admit this is not the safest place for either of you to heal and grow respectively. It has come to my attention that your parents are accepting payment in order for a certain Organization to have access to the portal."

Danny quietly processed the information, looking far too profoundly tired than any child should.

"How can I help?"

Frostbite carried two large tanks into the center of the room.

"Rest, heal and allow yourself to delegate tasks amongst your subjects."

Frostbite then knelt down to Danny's level and placed a large paw on his shoulder.

"We will be fine here Danny."

He then got up and lifted the two tanks.

"You both need to have a good supply of ectoplasm where you are staying. I think one of these will be enough for both you to reach a point where your cores are properly formed or reformed."

Frostbite carried the two tanks to out to the second most interesting individual Jason has met today.

"Wulf!"

Danny apparently knew this werewolf enough to greet him happily.

"Wulf, if you would be so inclined, can you open a portal to the dimension this young man is from?"

This Wulf as Jason has now gleaned sniffed him aggressively then nodded.

This is totally normal and fine.

Wulf then used his claws and ripped a portal out of thin air into the batcave.

Great.

Danny traipsed through the portal as if it was a door. Jason decided to help Frostbite push the tanks through the portal to feel some semblance of knowing what is happening.

Frostbite left them with well wishes as the portal closed.

Jason tried his best to wipe the bewildered look off his face when he realized the batcave was currently occupied.

Bruce had apparently started an entire search party with the rest of his family.

Tim had his detective wall of documents all pinned up.

Damian was arguing about the placement of the string.

Dick was pacing a few yards away from the wall.

Bruce was about to get carpal tunnel with the speed at which he was typing, his monitor was split between a database and a call with Constantine.

That is until the scraping of large metal tanks stopped them all in their tracks.

Jason waved.

"Hey"

He was immediately tackled by his older brother and squeezed into a hug.

"You can't scare us like that Jace!"

Bruce hung up on Constantine and walked towards him.

"Sorry I spooked you I didn’t really have time to leave a note-"

Interrupted, Jason and Dick by proxy was swept into a hug by Bruce.

Bruce let go.

"Let me know before you travel extra dimensionally."

He then left.

Dick had yet to let go, continuing his fretting.

"You just disappeared! None of use could find you! Never ever do that to me again. I swear you’re going to make me go bald with stress! Do you want me to look like Lex?"

Jason managed to get out of the vice grip Dick had on him.

"I'm sorry, okay? I go to the ghost doctor once and everyone thinks I've been kidnaped!"

Tim piped up

"To be fair it did look a lot like you got kidnaped by an inter dimensional map"

Dick managed to look even more worried.

"What do you mean a ghost doctor!?"

Jason shrugged.

"Exactly what I said. Found out I'm a baby ghost."

"A baby half ghost! Wellcome to the club, you are one of very few halfas in existence."

Jason took that information in

"What he said."

@shinyladykingdom @kyrianclawraith @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff @darkhinauniverse @krzys2000 @coruscateselene @kjoboo91 @vythika96 @hydralusus @addie-lover-of-stories @skulld3mort-1fan

Also I don't want to flood people's notifs with my silly little fanfic so if you want me to continue to tag you let me know! Also sometimes I can't find the blog people ask me to tag them with so if you asked to be tagged and weren’t it wasn’t on purpose!

[goodboyaudios]

So I was rewatching the "betraying your friends" ep from MOTH, and was wondering something...when Cataclysm offered power to Zed, what if he DID accept it? What would happen then?

I actually made a while AU about this on Discord so I'm happy to share it here!

I'm now calling it: BIRTH OF THE SECOND SUN In this timeline, Mirrin is killed by Mahann and Zed is humiliated by Mahann and Gienne. He does manage to snatch away the Demonomicon, but he is truly alone with no one to warn him or comfort him in any way. Without hesitation, he accepts Cataclysm's offer…

After accepting Cataclysm's gift for power, Zed becomes a sorcerer of Untempic and Faenic elements. He is now just as powerful as the guardian, but while the guardian has a balance on such energies, Zed does not. On top of that, the quick influx of power overwhelms him, forcing him to go crazy, but he doesn't become the next Anarchanist, he transcends it. He sees things beyond normal perception, witnesses events that may never happen, but always had, he decides to continue where his long deceased mother left off.

He teleports straight to Makkaro's house in a display of divine fury. Makkaro, realizing the power Zed has received, panics and flees to his castle, narrowly avoiding his death. He knows its only a matter of time before Zed finds him again. He summons forth the Snake Titan and prepares for battle. Both of them are connected in some way to Cataclysm and they both have similar goals, but while Makkaro wants to do it in the name of justice and revenge, Zed wants to do it to unify and prepare the Manasians for something that could spell the end of everything. Just as Makkaro has set up a few rudimentary defenses, Zed appears.

The battle is hard fought and the effects are felt across the world. The undead and vampires pose no threat to Zed and are instantaneously dealt with. The snake titan is the only edge Makkaro has over Zed as its body cannot be destroyed, nor can it even be penetrated by anything from Manas. Even the Guardian couldn't defeat it. So instead, Zed, being the little smarty-pants he is, uses his incredible power to create time magic out of thin air, and using it to reset Shee Khan into it's original form. It is now alive, containing its soul that was once trapped in the desert of Shee, and it is pissed off at Makkaro.

But Makkaro isn't a fool either. He wasn't sure if Shee Khan would be always willing to serve him, so he implanted magical runes within the body of Shee Khan to send it back to the desert if something were to go awry. The downside of this teleport is that it causes massive seismic and ecological damage to the ocean, creating chasms and sending tsunamis to the east and west. Now, its just Zed and Makkaro. Makkaro attempts to reason with Zed. He asks him what he wants, to which Zed responds, "To crush any opposition". Makkaro realizes that he has no choice now, but to fully submit himself to the demonic magic. In order to prevent this tyrant from rising, he must become what he was doomed to be. A Lich Anarchanist. After submitting to his dark power, the fight truly begins…

Raze, the Guardian, hasn't been able to be touched, because the magic that gets near her cell fizzles away to nothing. However, that doesn't stop the shockwaves from knocking the walls loose and allowing Raze to rescue Taurus. Upon reuniting and seeing Zed and Makkaro go at it like Dragonball characters, Raze intervenes. She realizes she can't kill either of them as Makkaro's lich form seems to be un-killable and Zed is using BS time magic. As she looks at the two fighting, she remembers the time she entered through the Lightmaster engines. She recognizes that these two, through their conflict have become a source of infinite power. They have become the sentient light.

While I'm still thinking about this, I'd like to say Raze also made Makkaro and Zed dream in the Second sun. In this dream, Zed and the guardian went on an adventure and ran into Detective Aetherward and Gienne on another case. While working together, Zed realizes that he just wanted a family and Makkaro and Gienne have talked about children. In this timeline, Makkaro and Gienne are safely together without threat from the family. And Zed's family isn't murdered, but just travels a lot and doesn't have as much time for him. Zed becomes adopted by Makkaro and Gienne and even becomes a big brother to their birth child. The Guardian watches over them as a close friend and even helps Zed reunite with his long lost family on occasion. But in the end, it's just a dream shared by two dying consciousnesses.

[wisteriasymphony]

MORE FUCKING SAMAU LETS GOOOO

Gabriel feared having to tell Adrien he was going to die tomorrow. He'd never been a good father, and that was never by choice. After being told of the situation, Gabriel supposed he wasn't even Adrien's father at all. Despite being three feet taller, despite having white hair and wrinkles... the 'father' and 'son' had been born the very same day, completely separate from each other.

The lack of resemblance had given it away from the very start, he supposed.

They sit in the dark, because the powers that be tend to have more control when things are lit. Gabriel worked to create a meal for Adrien—a real meal, one with steak and potatoes and not a few flimsy pancakes topped with banana. Gabriel had found that meal to be a disgrace, even when he was making it. But his arms had moved on their own.

Adrien kept glancing between the meal and the stranger in front of him. He was surprised he had ever even tried to kill Gabriel, in all honestly—the rage felt ridiculous now. They're not even really related, just like how Adrien and Emilie weren't even really related. ...How does one really become related to another? Adrien cannot and will never be able to comprehend it. His brain isn't suited to conceptualize things like childbirth or marriage licenses—Nobody in his world was written that way.

Adrien pokes at his steak again, taking another piece into his mouth. It takes like sand. ...He doesn't know what sand tastes like, barely knows how it feels. Beaches, if he's ever been to one, feel the same as grass and wood and sidewalk concrete.

"Your cataclysm arm is getting worse," Adrien jokes, rather dryly.

Gabriel can't respond. It hurts that he'll eventually have to.

"...Well, I suppose I won't be worried about it for long. Tomorrow, I'm..."

Gabriel breathes in, unable to feel the air fill the hollow of his chest.

"...Something's wrapping up, Adrien. I'm going with it."

"You're leaving?"

"I suppose I have to," Gabriel laments. "You're giving up your ring tomorrow, right?"

Adrien tries to remember what he'd been told—Not by a voice or through written text, but merely by gut feelings.

"...Yes," he grimaces. He can't see his ring but knows that it's there. "Good riddance."

"All I know so far is that I will try and make the wish, and then I'm gone. Forever." To lighten his own spirits, Gabriel laughs and adds "Maybe they'll send me to New York, too. I'll keep an eye on Chloe while I'm there."

Adrien could only hope that Chloe was somewhere safe, 'New York' or not. As far as he knew, he'd never see her again. Even if her being his childhood friend meant nothing if he never had a childhood... he knew she must been alone there. He knew someone out there had been lying.

"Where's Nathalie?" Adrien asks, hoping to redirect the conversation.

"Asleep." Gabriel takes a bite of potato, chewing silently. "I told her earlier, don't worry. She has her own things to do tomorrow."

If anything, Nathalie is more of Adrien's mother than Emilie ever got the chance to be. Adrien's stomach turns and twists at the notion. He stabs the steak with his fork, using a little more force than he has to.

"Do you think it's possible to love someone you never really knew?"

Gabriel is caught off guard by the question, but he's been plagued by it ever since he learned the truth. Adrien asks it like he's asking someone his own age, which is right. Gabriel is no adult, Gabriel has no answers.

"I don't know, Adrien," he responds. His son—whatever that word even means—isn't happy with this answer.

"I just don't know why you didn't tell me," he grumbles. "Why you didn't ask from the very start if I'd be okay with any of this." It's not even close to what he was wondering, but Adrien pretends the contrary. "I just don't know why I wasn't allowed to be let in on any secret. Why was I chosen as the last person in the world to trust?"

Gabriel remembers having to watch himself akumatize his son not once, but twice. He wants to protest, tell this stranger in front of him that he wasn't even able to think about telling him anything, and that every step closer to death could only bring him comfort in the sense that he would no longer be forced to watch himself hurt and lie, because now he had to think and he had to know it was wrong, and...

"We've all been trapped in our decisions, Adrien," was all he could bring himself to say. "...I'm not really your father, nor will I ever be. But if I was, and if things were different..."

He can't see Adrien in the dark. Can't see himself.

"...I want to believe that I would've told you. At the very least, I would've told you."

[miraculously-quality-content]

What if Gabriel couldn't control Gimmi?

Idea that's been rattling in my head since the finale of season 5

"Tikki, Plagg, unite!"

He had done it! He had finally gotten both miraculous! Now, he could make his wish a reality!

As Gabriel thought this, Plagg and Tikki merged into one, forming the true form of Gimmi.

The massive purple kwami stared down at him, then spoke.

"We are Gimmi, the kwami of reality. What is it you require of us?"

Gabriel smirked. "I want my greatest desire to be granted." Gabriel bowed slightly. "With the cost of my life."

Next thing Gabriel knew, he felt extreme pain in his head. Worse than the effects of the Cataclysm.

"We decide the price of the wish, mortal!" Gimmi yelled, seemingly from all around him.

After catching his breath, Gabriel spoke.

"I summoned you! I control you!" Gabriel glared at Gimmi.

Gimmi gave an unimpressed stare back.

"You use our power, yes. But holding our miraculi does NOT give you the ability to say how they work." Gimmi rose so they were not eye level anymore. "The universe requires a balance. So, the price is something of equal value from you."

Gabriel glared at the Kwami. "The grimore-"

"The grimore says a kwami is summoned with a miraculous. And yet, we require 2 miraculi. So, clearly, we are the exception."

Gabriel wanted to say something, but he started going into a coughing fit.

"You may want to stop arguing, as you do not have much time left."

Gabriel pulled his hand back to see that Gimmi was right. It wouldn't be long before the Cataclysm took his life.

"Fine, what is the price for my wish?"

Gimmi raised a nonexistent eyebrow. "Be more specific, everyone has many desires."

Gabriel growled. "My greatest desire, of course!"

Gimmi tilted his head. "Which one? The real one, or the one you claim?"

Gabriel's confusion was visible. "What?"

"Your desire to win in all things, that is your truest desire."

"What? No! That's not-!"

"Lie all you want." Gimmi interrupted Gabriel's response. "But that is your greatest desire. It can be seen in your actions." Gimmi leaned down and got in Gabriel's face, causing him to step back.

"That is why you sent your son away for being unruly. That is why you didn't save Emilie when you had the Rabbit miraculous. That is why you get pleasure in defeating a child." Gimmi used one of their many hands to gesture to Marinette, who has been watching this all happen, while still frozen from Venom.

Gimmi then turned back to Gabriel. "So again, claim all you want that your greastest wish is for Emilie's return, but you and I know the truth."

Gabriel, throughout Gimmi's examination of his character, was silent. Then did his best to look imposing. The way he did when ever someone challenged him.

"Fine, but seeing as how I was able to summon you, I think we can agee I've already achieved that dream. So, another wish is in order."

Gimmi rose back to their full height.

"I wish for Emilie's return."

"We cannot do that for you."

Gabriel physically recoiled. "What!?!" Gabriel scowled at Gimmi. "Is this some kind of rebellion? Because-!"

"We are not rebelling. The problem with that wish, is you."

Gabriel, still furious. "Explain. Now."

"Even when we ignore the fact that the Emilie you think you know and the real person are different, you still do not have anything that would be equivalent."

"Of course I do! A life for a life! I offer my own for hers!"

"Those are not equivalent." Gimmi pointed at Gabriel. "The life must equal in your eyes. An eye for eye, a loved one for a loved one."

Gabriel sputtered as Gimmi rose again. "No loved ones? I have a son!"

Gimmi stared down at Gabriel with thinly veiled contempt. "The fact that you are even considering sacrificing him shows you do not love him the way you love Emilie."

Gabriel, unbothered by Gimmi's accusation, defends himself. "He's a sentimonster. Now that the Peacock is fixed, we can just make another. I'm sure Felix would agree to do so."

Gimmi closes all their eyes as they shake their head. "Do you hear yourself? How can you claim to love your son, when this is how you talk about him? Like he's a thing to throw him away when your whims desire?"

"We're a family! We-"

"We require the bond to be present. And that bond does not exist for you. Nor does anyone feel that way for you, for the matter."

Gabriel gave a bewildered look. "No one feels... again, I have a son, Adrien. He loves me. I'm his father."

Gimmi gave Gabriel a withering look. "There was a point when Adrien loved you. But in your haste to make sure you always win, even against your son, you snuffed out any and all affection he had for you."

Gimmi looks off into the distance. "Maybe in another life, one where you loved your son like you claim to, HE could have made the wish." Gimmi turns back to Gabriel. "And do what you originally intended when you summoned me. Sacrifice you to bring her back."

As Gimmi laid out the consequences of Gabriel's actions, he seethed. "Stop this stalling!"

Gabriel went into another coughing fit as Gimmi gave him a pitying look.

When stopped coughing, Gabriel continued. "There has to be for-"

"There is no way for to bring Emilie back for you"

Gimmi leaned their cheek on the back of their hand. "Nor can I give you eternal victory, as the only way to do so would be to grant your other desire."

Gabriel snarled, with a trail of ash going his face. "Then heal me of this!"

He gestured to the part of his body that was Cataclysmed.

Gimmi shook their head. "The price would either to give you an equally bad condition-"

"I want to be healed! Not obtain a new condition!"

"-or to give it to someone else you care for." Gimmi continued without pausing when Gabriel tried to interrupt them.

"But as we established, you have no one you care for. So again, we cannot do that either."

Gimmi stared down at Gabriel, as he finally realized what they were saying. "You can't mean..." Gabriel, for the first time in a long time, was feeling dread.

"Yes Gabriel," Gimmi leaned over him, "you have nothing to lose, and as such, nothing to gain."

[aeroblossom]

rene de petrichor is such a guy that i need to dissect. this small town boy from poisson that suffered the violence of a siege, being adopted by a man he couldn't trust, and having to live the life of a child genius. it's imperative that we think of the effects growing up in the narzissenkreuz institute would've had, especially at a time like the cataclysm. from his notes in sumeru you only get the image of a quiet, unassuming boy who's burdened with a task that potentially spells the fate of his people, and possibly the entire world. he couldn't return if he failed. he also had the life of jakob in his hands, and carter too.

the potioneer mentioned in the world quest 'villains' is likely rene, too. this young boy from a small town is behind nearly everything in fontaine, and it's crazy to think about.

in my interpretation, as a child, he was likely quiet and analytic, burdened by shouldering the responsibility of saving lives. he grew up to be rather eccentric, likely a bit full of himself due to his achievements in sumeru ( -- wq 'villains'), and as he reached adulthood and discovered what the truth was meant to be... must have felt a mix of hopelessness and hopefulness at the same time. burdened with knowledge only he could know and no one could understand but him. but he couldn't sit around, he had to do something. he's very furina/erinnyes (who are probably the same entity) in that way. living knowing something that they can't confide in others because they wouldn't understand.

his actions, despite the good intentions, are not seen as good. and as a friend of mine pointed out, though he and the others grew up listening to stories of heroes and dragons, he didn't realize the moment he went from being the hero that would save fontaine to the dragon that would have to be slain. that is, narzissenkreuz.

one of genshin's best npcs ever, if i'm honest. i really hope we get a face reveal soon. i would love if he was playable...

[asukiess]

What I personally love about the kiss is that it manifested through Marichat in an organic way, but it’s obviously more than a division of the square:

It’s Ladybug kissing her chaton – the one she kissed after dreaming a whole fantasy world of their deepest desires, knowing fully well of that fact, and agreeing that it was true. The one she put a brave façade on for at the end of Jubilation, telling him that Monarch must have manipulated the dream. She did that for their sake. Previous to Jubilation, Chat was wracked with guilt over his cataclysm being used against his will – and in Jubilation, in a flash of emotions, he was ready to misuse it, which he would have ultimately been disgusted over. A case of being blinded by love (obviously, there’s more nuance to the scene) – he tried ripping her alarm clock Lucky Charm from her grasp, which could have led to a defeat if she lost it.

The mirror to Chat’s cataclysm scenes is Marinette almost being akumatized – showing us in no uncertain terms that it’s still not the right time for these two to be together. She is so terrified of being “blinded by love” again that it’s interfering with her love for Adrien. And yet, she was hurt by a culmination of things that came to a head when Chat said it wasn’t right of him to do that. As always, Adrichat is a complete gentleman and was trying to do the right thing.

Marinette has been trying to tell her Alya and Tikki for episodes now that how she feels is real and true, and they haven’t taken her seriously (rightfully, if you think of it from their POV). Monarch controls her life as a superhero and is practically winning at every turn. She has barely had any personal agency in this season except for gathering the courage to kiss his cheeks and nose, which would have felt fantastic in her shoes. Finally, she’s getting what she wants.

It’s Adrien kissing Marinette – the close friend who understands him like no one else. She’s been so avoidant this season, more so than her clumsy, stuttering usual self, and he doesn’t know how to break that wall between them. On top of this, his whole family is falling ill and his fathering is dangling affection like a carrot on a stick – but what’s tragic is that Adrien is so used to that by now. He can switch between père and papa on a dime to fit his mood. His image is being sold and copies of copies of him are everywhere he looks. He is free but lonelier than ever. He’s just as sequestered in his room as in previous seasons.

So she initiates the kissing, tenderly on his cheeks and nose. Tells him she’s a super, super, super fan – but not like the ones who chase him and demand from him things he can’t give. She tells him she would love even the guy under the mask – but that’s Adrien, who she just admitted to moving on from. But they could kiss now, couldn’t they? He wants to hold her like Luka did, to spend time with her, to kiss her and have her know he loves her completely. So he takes that step to kiss her lips. He could explain everything later, as Adrien…

Except, he can’t! We all know this. Also, does she really mean that, or is he taking advantage of her? She’s just a fan, and he’s using this opportunity to kiss Marinette, one of his best friends, because he isn’t able to as Adrien. Marinette deserves better, to be treated fairly and with someone who can be with her all the time and has the right to know them fully – not with the barrier of secret identities.

 They both know they should not be doing this. Marinette isn’t thinking far enough ahead about her feelings for Chat being misused when she’s Ladybug. Something could happen to them if Marinette and Chat had been successful this episode, and it would have interfered majorly in her relationship with him as Ladybug. It would throw everything out of balance. Chat has this (in my opinion, really unexpected and noble) set of standards – he can’t be in a relationship with her like that, it’s taking advantage of her. But they kiss anyway because they love each other so goddamn much and I live for forbidden kissing.

 To top it all off, it was a well written, tension-building, compassionate, tender, slow burn kiss that I will be thinking about forever.

[atinylittlepain]

Split Seam

steve harrington x f!oc

part of the girl boy series

18+ allusions to smut, stuffy family dynamics, overall just a fun time tho

a/n | marriage done the standy way, this was fun to write :')

...........................................

It’s raining in Philadelphia and chocolate hearts are on sale at the CVS down the block from his apartment. Valentine’s cards too, pink and purple and red and everything must go. He buys a bottle of seltzer and a chocolate rose. When he gets to the station he unwraps the red tinfoil and takes a large bite out of the bloom. He’s starving, didn’t get lunch at the office today with the usual end of the week scramble of numbers and numbers and suits and numbers. But he’s only got an hour and change on the train. He can hold out, Hershey’s aside. 

He’s done this train ride sixty-two times now. This is number sixty-three, but he’s not keeping track. All he knows is that it still feels like relief when he’s seated and the train starts moving. It’s always felt like a relief to be moving in the same direction as her again.

They’ve gotten this right, he thinks. As right as they possibly could, at least. The first year of what Andy called moderate-to-long distance was hard. Awkward phone calls with long swaths of silence, calls that were missed altogether, crossed wires, cataclysmic blowouts that were and weren’t about the things they argued about. But they’ve made it this far, nearly two years of this perpetual back and forth ache that’s only soothed with train rides, with closing that gap. 

There’s been three apartments in New York, and he’s pretty sure he likes this last one that she’s in the best. Greenwich Village, old brick and pock-marked sidewalks and tall windows that wash warm over lightwood floors, and he likes being the one making this trip because he likes getting to see her in a space that feels like her. And he likes this too, the same as the first sixty-two trips, she’s waiting for him at the station, that brief moment, miracle, within which he sees her but she doesn’t see him. Checking her watch and running a hand back through her hair, in her brown leather coat, sharp and smooth and too cool for a banker from Philly, but she’s here for him, smiling big, smiling everything when her eyes finally catch his. 

This always the same too, a soft, sweet rejoining, her hand curling at the nape of his neck, other arm slung over his shoulder and here, here, she presses her lips to his cheek, her nose sliding in line with his and hi, baby, another kiss, quick, and he’s home. 

“They have you staying late again, don’t they? Or did you get all dressed up just to see me?” Little tug to his tie as they thread through throngs of people, out into the cool damp night in as close of a tangle they can be without getting heckled for it on the street. 

“Catch-up from the holidays, or at least that’s what everyone keeps saying.”

“Right, right, crunching numbers and murdering secretaries American Psycho-style?”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Little squeeze to her hip, little mean as they continue their walk back to her place. Her grin gets lit up by the neon creeping into the oncoming night. 

“Kidding, your colleagues however, well, yeah.” Well, yeah, Andy had come into town right before Christmas to go to his company holiday party with him, and had gotten into not one, not two, but three verbal altercations with his co-workers about the invisible labor of women, as well as the recession. Not that he would admit it, but he had been impressed, and maybe a little flustered, watching her hold her own amongst the suits. They had left early on account of said flustering, as well as the little snap he had given to one of the suits who told him something about needing a muzzle for that one. The partition in the company-ordered limo was raised when they got back into it, the green velvet of her dress hiked up and up and up exposing sheer black nylon and skin, and they both had forgotten all about the suits and the snap by the time they got back to his apartment. He still gets a little hazy, sweet gauze in his mind when he thinks about it. 

“How are the feminists this week?”

“Oh you know, angry, hairy, generally awesome and oppressed. I turned in my third draft on Wednesday.”

“That’s amazing, honey. It must feel good to be almost finished.” 

“It feels good to finally get my advisor off my ass. Bigger and better things, et cetera, et cetera.” He knows not to ask after bigger and better, having made the mistake once of asking if she had heard back from any of the PhD programs yet. She had smiled a watery thing, and promptly dissolved into a pool of sound and tears, too much, don’t ask. She’ll tell him when the news comes in, he knows, though there still remains a selfish slice of him that hopes and hopes and hopes UPenn comes back with a yes, and she answers with a yes too. But for now this is enough, here, and stopping her on the stairs up to her apartment to press a curved kiss to her mouth, so proud of you, honey. She beams, scoffs, thank you, and it drips with sheepish sweetness, her eyes rolling up to hide the truth of it, but he still catches it, lets her believe he doesn’t when she tugs him into her apartment. 

It’s true what they say about absence and fondness, at least in the case of Sylvia, who lately has been greeting him with a desperate peel of cries, twining around his legs with such a fervor that he has to try hard not to trip over her. No petting though, she still likes to scratch if it isn’t on her terms. 

“Nice flowers.”

“Thank you, someone sent them on Valentine's day.” A veritable flame of roses sits preening in a vase on her kitchen counter. He had asked for the biggest, the best, no expenses spared because he’s making money now, real money, and any gifts for her have to be a sneak attack because of it. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmhmm, you better watch out because it looks like you have some competition from another suitor.” She lays the accent on thick, her family’s accent, soo-tah, throws in a waggle of her fingers, ring glinting for good measure. The ring, and the whole ordeal of it. There had been no family heirlooms left to ask Frank and Kitty Broder permission for, just a nervous conversation the day after Thanksgiving, the one before last, sweating hard beneath his collar and hands shaking. Because while Andy is anything but traditional, Steve picked up pretty fast that this was not quite the case with her parents. A fiance of the second oldest had clued him in on as much the first time Steve was brought home to meet the family, summer break and a big reunion, plenty of hands to shake and names to forget. And the second oldest’s fiance had sidled up next to Steve with a sloshing glass of prosecco and the grin of someone who had figured this whole production out. Somewhere between the mafia and the Vatican, you do the math, man. 

Frank was unmoved, tolerant of the idea at best, considering him over the dark rims of his Buddy Holly-esque glasses, a stylish man, tall and thin man with a slick of gray hair and a thick gold ring that could blind you if it flashed the wrong way. He only had one question for Steve which, mercifully, he could answer correctly. Yes, he told Frank, raised Roman Catholic, though he left the non-practicing part out. Meanwhile, Kitty was already designing the invitations in her mind. 

And that wasn’t even the hard part. Because yes, hasty by some judgements (Eddie’s), and unlikely by other judgements, given Andy’s views (Robin). But he knew, he knew, spent a few months looking for a ring in the evenings when he’d get off work. When he did find one, he didn’t even wait a week, letting the black velvet box burn a hole in his pocket on the train ride to New York that very same weekend. And the proposal itself was simple, no fuss or fanfare, if not a little nerve-wracking. He spoke honestly, plainly. He spoke love. And he’s never known relief like he did when she smiled and told him there’s no one else I’d ever say yes to, baby. So maybe it’s hasty, and maybe it’s all skewed a little unorthodox. But it’s theirs. 

“They better act fast then, got that appointment tomorrow and all.”

“Did you bring all your documents?”

“Driver’s license, social security number. We’re set, honey.”’

“I’m still not changing my last name.”

“No, I know, I don’t care about that.”

“My mother is pissed about it, apparently so is yours.” 

“I think when all this is said and done, those two are gonna leave their husbands and move in with each other.” 

“God, that’d be good for them, or maybe terrible.” 

“Little of both, probably.”  One of the stranger outcomes of this whole wedding thing, the alliance that’s formed between Diane and Kitty. Though maybe not that strange, he thinks, certainly plenty of common in between them. At the very least, this wedding wouldn’t be happening next month without the pair of them leading the absolute battle charge of planning they’ve accomplished. Kitty’s words, knowing my Miranda, she’d be happy with a shotgun wedding in Reno, and Andy hadn’t disagreed, happy to leave all the cake and the flowers and the tulle up to their mothers. Steve was more than happy to stay out of the fray too.

“You didn’t eat lunch, did you?”

“How can you tell?”

“Steve, you never eat lunch. I ordered Thai before I left to get you,Tom Kha Gai and egg rolls, the usual. It should be here soon.” 

And the rest of the evening is very boring, very mundane, a third-floor window lit up warm, and framed inside of it, them on the couch with a smattering of takeout boxes. His tie undone and hanging loose around his neck, top three buttons of his shirt popped as well. Warmth and salt and sour sating him, he goes slack when she tries to teach him how to properly hold his chopsticks, moreso enjoying the feeling of her hands fidgeting with his fingers, her careful concentration. He goes right back to using a fork when she’s finished, grinning at the roll of her eyes. And afterwards, stomachs full and eyes heavy, worn weary from their respectively long weeks, they get into the shower, all kind touch, simple pleasure, her fingers kneading back along his scalp and his hands soaped and slipping over her skin, working into the spots that he knows ache, satisfaction in her sighs. 

Soon, he thinks, hopes, this won’t be a thing they have to ration, all this touch, all this sense, all this closeness. This will simply become the thing they do every night, getting into bed together and talking about things that don’t really matter while their bodies relearn one another. He wants these things in a near dizzying way, big, bold, brazen want that simmers and sighs in her presence, tired kisses, and it’s enough, her hand in his hair, and it’s enough. 

He wakes up the next morning bleary-eyed with want, eager for this early morning appointment at the county clerk’s office, because this is another step, big step, making it even more real step. They both seem to feel it, quiet over the rims of their coffee mugs, smiling, and what? What? What’re you smiling about? It’s a big day, isn’t it? Yeah, nervous? No, you? Not at all, no. And he means that when he says it. There are few things in his life that he has been so certain about. 

And yes, maybe they had a romantic idea of how this would go, but it really is just paperwork in a dimly lit cubicle, and signatures here and here and yes, wedding will take place within sixty days. Steve tries to make a joke about cousins, and is only met with a blank look from the clerk, and a swift side-eye from Andy. 

But when the paperwork is signed and there’s a manilla envelope with their wedding license in his hand, there is a lightness, a lift, a giddy kick, like kids getting away with something when they leave the office. Tucked in close to each other, a little oblivious, and maybe a little obnoxious, and a man walking the other way lets them know as much, bumping right into Steve’s shoulder and watch it! And without missing a beat, Andy’s head whipping around and hey, fuck you, we just got married! Which, well, technically not, but it still makes them both laugh a breathless thing, wild, wind-bitten smiles. And they’re still running on all that flare and fluster when they get back to her apartment, open-mouthed kisses and greedy hands and she has to hold him back by the lapel of his coat to grin an awful thing and you wanna see the dress? 

“You have it?”

“Yeah.”

“Like, here, right now?”

“Yes, Steve, it’s been fitted and everything. Locked and loaded and ready to blast me off into marital bliss with you, et cetera, et cetera. Now, do you, or don’t you, want to be the first, the very first, to see it on me in all its matrimonious glory?” 

“Isn’t that bad luck?”

“Baby, please.” She groans, pressing her forehead against his, and really, he’s just giving her a hard time, because he knows what this means to her, beneath all the snark. The first to see it before anyone else, before the rehearsal, and the aisle, and all the family that neither of them really care to have present. A moment for them, just for them, and no one else. 

“You really want me to see?”

“Mmhmm.” Quiet, crackling murmurs, whispered between smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’d like to see.” 

“Go sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.” And so he does, a little shake in his hands, a little burst and batter of his heart against his ribs. Nervous now, and he’s not sure why, the ticking of the clock pulling taut and loose all over like melted taffy. And then, and then, the padding of bare feet, and the hard rush of blood in his ears, and the sweet exhale when he does finally see her. 

“Honey.” Bordering on pained, the word is said with a sigh, and he’s not going to, no, no, just a little flush of heat behind his eyes and in his throat and Andy’s baby, don’t cry makes him sniff hard and swallow, his hand settling on her hip when she steps closer between his legs. Smooth white silk and simple, and her hair is still gathered in the clip she tucked it up into this morning and she’s still wearing a smear of Vaseline on her lips and she’s the best thing he’s ever seen, he thinks. Tells her as much and she smiles big, chin tucked down and her thumb stroking along the column of his neck where her hand is loosely curled. 

“Well, thoughts?” 

“Wow, just wow, yeah, no other thoughts.” He knows she’s going to start wilting under any more compliments, never one for them, a warbly Steve that makes him smile, squeezing at her hip, coaxing her to c’mere, c’mere, even as she resists his pull.

“If you fuck up this dress we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Not gonna fuck it up, just come a little closer. I wanna, uh, look at the stitching.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” Even as she says it, her smile is starting to slip and spread, another shuffled step closer as his hands splay across her low back, and lower, and lower, and a squeeze that’s just a little mean, making her laugh while he starts to hike all that silk up and up into his hands. 

A few weeks later, when he’s met with the sight of her in that dress in a very, very different context, all he can think about is that afternoon. No one will ever know that he got to see her first in that dress, before anyone else. Nor will they know that they spent the rest of that afternoon splayed on her living room floor with the fabric of her dress bunched up around her hips and his hands curled into the plush of her thighs and his mouth, open and taking, watching the dip and fold of fine fabric, the arch of her back, pleasure for pleasure’s sake. No one will know that in the after, his hips stilled and flush against hers, both of them panting and preening into each other’s kisses, they found the smallest tear at her hip, and that she couldn’t be mad about it, not even a little, when he sunk back down between her legs and laid his apology at the open hinge of her hips. 

He’ll find that tear again, when the vows are said, and the family and friends are clapping, and they’re walking down the aisle together, his hand on her hip. He’ll find the tear then, the perfect secret shared between them in a quick glancing smile.

[theromanticrationalist]

Some Thoughts on Sheldon Cooper. . .

"Leonard, I am overwhelmed. Everything is changing and it is simply too much. I need to get away and think." | 7x24 The Status Quo Combustion

"Dr. Cooper, while you were away we came up with a solution that would allow you to change your field of study." "Wow. Pouting and running away actually worked! Yeah, I must say, that may not be the lesson you want to reinforce with me." | 8x02 The Junior Professor Solution

"I'm not leaving your world. I'm just talking about living across the hall." "I understand. Either way, I want you to know that I'm aware of how difficult I can be. So, I just want to say thank you for putting up with me." | 8x12 The Space Probe Disintegration

"It just seems silly to eat in two groups." "It doesn't seem silly if you think of that group as being lead by a big, evil baby." *a few moments later and everyone situated around the couch* "Well, isn't this nice. Sometimes the baby wins!" | 7x16 The Table Polarization

"Two years ago I got my driver's license." "What?! Why didn't you say anything?!" "I like being chauffeured around. It makes me feel important." | 10x16 The Allowance Evaporation

These are some of the moments where Sheldon shows a level of great self-awareness. I bring these moments up as showcasing that Sheldon's level of emotional maturity is much greater than his friends (and the writers of this show) give him credit for. One of the main problems is how the narrative often treats Sheldon as if he is completely incapable of growth, maturity, or taking care of himself. The truth couldn't be further from this. Even the narrative itself shows how much Sheldon changed during his relationship with Amy. The primary problem is that Sheldon's personality is so big and overwhelming, he doesn't HAVE to change because he is able to get everyone to do what he wants anyway, which he is fully aware of and exploits constantly. I mean if you are Sheldon, someone who has a mind sharper and faster than anyone you meet and prefer to have tight, tyrant-like control over your reality in order to feel safe and secure, pushing and manipulating people around to do your will is going to come naturally with the territory. The problem wasn't that Sheldon is a stunted adult who can't manage life on his own, but it is in the fact that Sheldon rarely got constructive and encouraging push back for his behaviors and choices. For when he did, which primarily came from Amy, he was fully capable of making corrections to his behaviors and expanding his worldview. It just ended up that he was either treated poorly and abusively or enabled and placated. That's why I really love the moment with Mrs. Davis when he comes back from his train-riding "sabbatical". Changing his field of study was a HUGE cataclysmic event in Sheldon's life and was one aspect that was causing him the greatest distress. Yet even in this reality-altering experience, Sheldon realizes that some of his responses to it weren't healthy, and makes a note of it with her, e.g. don't reward my childish behaviors because I will take FULL ADVANTAGE OF THEM. There was SUCH a missed opportunity there at the end of Season 7 going into Season 8. Penny realizing that she and Leonard needed to let Sheldon go, allowing him to make his own choices and do what he felt was right for him was a huge revelation for the characters. It was kind of a significant, paradigm shifting moment! I naively thought that they would build on that going forward in the show, but nah. Of course not. Any moments that would have allowed for such growth from all the characters were usually walked-back or dropped. It is such a shame, and makes the watching of this show frustrating for me. And yes! I know! I realize this is a sitcom! Why am I expecting such highbrow writing from something that is primarily supposed to be comedic and entertaining? Well, I think this subtext was implied in the narrative despite itself, especially with Jim Parsons. I think his acting conveys a lot of Sheldon's complexity through his body language and micro-expressions. There is SO MANY LAYERS to Parsons' performance, I just do not see how you couldn't possibly get wrapped up in dissecting them and having higher expectations of the narrative you are watching. Jim Parsons MAKES this show, otherwise what else would it offer?

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝The Servant: Umbrella Academy's Servant❞

Five Hargreeves × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : It's a well known fact that Sir. Reginald Hargreeves adopted 7 children to save the world from it's impending doom. Though, the number of children will change from 7 to 8 once a close friend of his, Rita Rossweisse was on her death bed and requested him to take in her child, who fortunately was born on October 1st 1989.

➢ Word Count : 9,850

➢ Links : Masterlist && Character Profile

Chapter 1: We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

Under the eccentric billionaire's order, Pogo gathered the remaining people of the Umbrella Academy to Mr. Reginald Hargreeves office. All three of them stood in front of his desk: The robot nanny, The advanced chimpanzee, and the ever youthful servant named Y/N. The three of them were standing stiffly on their spot, patiently awaiting for the head of the Hargreeves household to speak.

As they awaited, silence became the norm. Although silence has always been the norm in the Hargreeves household, it was rarely tense, rather, this type of silence only occured when the others were still around, especially during their missions. Though you would suppose it was reasonable, after all, their lives were at stake when trying to save the world, and they wouldn't want to repeat "their" mistake back in 2006.

But it doesn't answer the question, why was it so tense now?

Was the Monocle planning something?

You breathed through your nostrils as though knowing that the assumption would make sense since, lately, you have noticed Pogo and Grace talking amongst themselves about something you were not aware of, though you did recall Grace looking dejected every time it was brought up.

"Mr. Monocle, may I have the permission to raise a query?" You broke the silence, making the scribbling noise abruptly stop. The cold eyes his children criticized him for were now gazing into your very soul, thus casting a spell upon your skin to shiver in a rippling manner. Despite knowing how he acts as a person, you will never get used to his actions.

"I have encouraged your lot to raise questions for a reason, so do not hold back when it comes to your curiosity." He encouraged his utmost attention to you, which made you more nervous than usual.

"Ms. Grace and Mr. Pogo have been mumbling to themselves about a plan to bring the Umbrella Academy back. I recall them periodically mentioning someone's death. I'm assuming they are referring to an important figure in their life, someone who will make them come back to where they came from…" You paused breathing through your teeth then continued. "So, they must be referring to you, yes?"

The Monocle looked satisfied with your answer then resumed scribbling on his priceless notebook. "I specifically told them to leave you breadcrumbs so I expect no less of you to catch onto our scheme."

The man who was deemed by his children to be a monster praised you in his own way but for some reason you felt dumbfounded by the confirmation. It even felt like your body was refusing to accept it. As the Monocle laid out the plan he had in mind, you tried to listen intently, keyword, tried.

"Is this necessary?" You blurted out. Their eyes darted to you, which made you want to shrink to the size of a molecule.

"I just don't think taking your life is worth exchanging to assemble the Umbrella Academy… Why don't you try calling them over? Like inviting them over for family dinner?" You suggested awkwardly rubbing the back of your nape.

"As much as we understand where you are going Ms. Y/N, I'm afraid that won't work with how…" The formal chimpanzee paused, trying to look for the right word. "Strained their relationship with their father is."

This whole thing began a cataclysm in your head, questions erupted left and right, your rationale losing its grip with reality because of how much it starts questioning the how's, the why's and what's of the situation you were in. However there was one thing for sure, the eccentric billionaire wants to assemble the academy and there has to be an objective behind it and what could it possibly be?

What could be the danger that made him gamble his life for the Umbrella Academy's return?

As you tried to rationalize, an intrusive thought disrupted your line of thinking.

"Master Five, your father is requesting for you to finish your breakfast. Now isn't the time for you to experiment with your abilities. You will have more time to explore them after the meal." You repeated the head of Hargreeves household's words, though they weren't the exact wording since you paraphrased it because you believed his original phrasing was harsh.

The boy in school shorts slowly turned to you with a familiar scowl on his face, almost mirroring his father's signature look. "You infuriate me."

He took slow steps towards your direction, his eyes not leaving your figure. It felt like you were a deer in headlights willingly awaiting for your death to come. Oddly enough, you kept your composure, externally unbothered but internally dreading what will happen next.

"All you ever do is follow that old man like a puppet, you can't even think for yourself and you speak as though you are following a script." He spat, his words seething with anger but for what?

"I have no use for you, so go back to your box." Five ended with a glare and walked away as though he was satisfied with the damage he had done to you.

"What about Number Five?" You suddenly uttered out, the intrusive thought bringing back his existence into both your mind and the room you were present in at the moment. "How will you know he will come back?"

"I know he will come back but, you are free to call my statement a hunch if it helps you sleep at night." The Monocle stated with a discernible look on his face followed by him quickly dismissing you three for the night.

The news of Mr. Reginald Hargreeves flooded throughout the streets of America: the televisions, the radios, and the people talked of it like it was the only thing worth talking about. Though it was understandable considering how impactful he was in today's society though some were rejoicing in his death for obvious reasons… However, what they didn't know was that this was all part of the plan.

You waited at the front of the door, in your best Victorian maid outfit, your hair was arranged how you wanted to be and you wore special shoes for the occasion. The others will probably say that you looked the same as usual and you will admit you looked the same, but it made you feel and look the part, the part of a servant.

The door creaked, which caught your attention. Your gaze was then directed to the humongous ape hybrid man of the Umbrella Academy, who was now struggling to not break the door handle while trying to maintain his balance. You presume he is still getting used to the Earth's gravity that's why he was struggling.

"Early as always Master Luther." You commended the larger male with a smile on your face.

"I'm sorry if I break something by accident, you know how long I've been on the moon and all." He muttered with a charming awkward smile on his face.

"It's fine, I don't think your father would really mind especially with how hard you've been working on the moon for years now." You reassured the male. You guys had a small chat until he left to take a short nap.

As you stood there waiting for the others, you decided that you were going to get some water for yourself and a chair so you could rest while waiting for the others. Out of nowhere, someone slammed the front double doors. You quickly went into a fighting stance, the portable staff ready to be equipped into the fight but, instead of facing danger, you were facing a man who was a danger to himself.

"ROSEYYY!" Klaus yelled out that terrible nickname he gave you since you guys were children. You weren't primarily fond of it because of how crappy it was but you forced yourself to tolerate it.

Your once wary self relaxed at the sight of him. "Master Klaus, I'm glad you are still in good condition but, it would have been preferable if you entered in a less heart-attack inducing way."

"You and I both know that I'm the light of the party!" The seance declared then circled around you, his arm hanging around your neck. "Which means, I have the responsibility to make this party fun for everyone. And~ just because it's a funeral doesn't mean it shouldn't be fun~ "

"I suppose that would make grieving a lot easier." You said rather uncertain about your response though Klaus didn't catch onto it.

"That's the spirit! Oh, by the way, have you seen Pogo?"

"I haven't, last time I checked he was in the basement…"

"Great! I'll just take a trip down memory lane while waiting for the others." He said then walked off as though he didn't make a big scene, though you doubt that he was planning to take a trip down to "memory lane".

You sat on a nearby chair and waited for the others to show up for the next 2 hours, though the interactions weren't that interesting.

"Good Morning Master Diego." You greeted the kraken with a smile just like the others though he didn't reciprocate your gesture. He just acknowledged your greeting with a nod, then went straight for the living room to loiter. As you waited for the others, you could hear knives being thrown at random directions, most likely his remedy for his boredom.

An hour later, the rumor arrived with her luggage in hand. You both exchanged pleasantries as you assisted her to her room with her luggage though she kept insisting she can carry it. But, you managed to talk her out of it, though you can tell she only felt bad because of how young you looked, despite your mental age.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

Just outside the Umbrella Academy, a certain petite lady had arrived. She stared at the building before her but it felt like it was menacingly staring her down, as if warning her that it was her last chance to run away. Vanya was hesitant to enter and scared to be reunited with her siblings - adoptive siblings - who were most likely not on good terms with her after her book. However, she knew that she couldn't keep running away from them, so she took a deep breath then entered her childhood home.

Despite the fear that lingered, it subsided once she saw the interior of the house. Everything looked the same; the house felt untouched even after all the years that had passed, it was oddly comforting. Though it was most likely in Grace's programming to keep things in order that would please her father, the same could be applied to Y/N but she's mostly responsible for cleaning the yard though.

It was rather comforting that things haven't changed though it felt odd not being able to see Y/N be at the entrance to greet her. It was usually her job to greet everyone and congratulate them over the littlest of things like surviving a mission or mastering a certain skill.

Was she out to get groceries?

Vanya looked for signs of Y/N but found none. She decided to approach someone else who might know where you were. Luckily, she saw Grace by the fireplace, her attention enamored by how the fire danced and flickered.

"Hey Mom," Vanya greeted, but she didn't acknowledge the violinist's presence.

"Mom?" She repeated yet received no response.

"Vanya?" A new voice called out.

The petite girl awkwardly turned to where the voice came from and was met with her sister, Allison Hargreeves. The actress who recently got a divorce but is starring in a lot of movies like romcoms.

"You're actually here." She said in disbelief though there was a small smile present.

"Hey Allison."

"Hey Sis."

In spite of how awkward it was, both of the girls hugged it out. However, a man clad in black leather had other plans. Said man came out of where he was loitering then walked past his sisters.

"What is she doing here? You don't belong here. Not after what you did." Diego sneered at the violinist.

"You're seriously gonna do this today?" The actress asked, it was evident on her facial features that she did not want to deal with Diego's whining.

The brown-haired male didn't give her a piece of his mind but Allison was having none of it. "Way to dress for the occasion by the way."

"At least, I'm wearing black." The male in black snarked back at her and continued on with wherever he was planning to go.

"You know what, maybe he's right. I shouldn't-" Vanya muttered, as she was about to retreat back to her apartment but a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Miss Vanya, you may think that Diego is right but not all of us share the same sentiment as him. For now, let's put the feud past us and gather as a family to mourn for your father's loss." You said. Your words were comforting the uneasiness she felt, at least now she knew that two people - besides Pogo and Grace - wanted her to stay.

Once Diego's sour words were dissolved by you and Allison's overwhelming sweetness. You and the violinist were left by yourselves to explore the eccentric billionaire's house, what Vanya used to deem as her home. But, now it's a house filled with bitter memories for her.

"Miss Vanya, is it alright that I follow you around for a while?" You questioned her, the smile you wore around her over the years seemed like had no intention of being wiped off.

"Y/N, I told you to stop using honorifics around me." The petite girl reminded you, as she reciprocated your smile.

You giggle at the reminder. "It can't be helped, with how much I've been around Pogo, I just couldn't help but pick up the habit."

The brown-haired girl entered the living room with you. Her eyes wandered trying to identify if some changes were made, though she couldn't see any big difference. Unless you and Grace decided to move a decorative piece a few centimeters to the right, then she definitely would not have noticed that detail. As she surveyed the room, she couldn't help but, drift to the section of the bookshelf where her autobiography was nestled in between.

Suddenly, the advanced chimpanzee walked into the living room. A smile adorned his face when his eyes landed on the violinist whilst he adjusted his glasses.

"Welcome home Miss Vanya"

"Pogo." The brunette muttered then went to his side and hugged him.

"So good to see you." Pogo greeted but then his gaze shifted at the book that was in Vanya's hands. "Ah yes, your autobiography."

"Do you know, um…" Vanya glances down at the book hesitating to bring up the question but goes along with it anyway. "Did he ever read it?"

"Not that I am aware of."

Based on Vanya's lack of response, you could tell that she was both not surprised and disappointed. All those years of being by her side made reading her so easier. Just like the others, she was hell-bent on being recognized by their father, the only difference was that she wanted to be treated like an equal.

The petite woman then diverted her attention to the painting above the fireplace. "How long has it been since Five disappeared?"

"It's been 16 years, 4 months, and 14 days." You and Pogo said in unison, both of you shared a small smile not expecting to say it at the same time.

"Your father insisted we keep track," You stated, though you had a different reason for keeping track. You promise to yourself that once he comes back, you will redeem yourself for your past failure.

"You wanna know something stupid? I always used to leave the lights on for him. I was scared he would come back. It would be late, the house would be dark and he wouldn't be able to find us, so he'd leave again."

"So, every night me and Y/N make a little snack and make sure all the lights are on." The violinist recalled, a small smile on her face as she reminisced how you helped her at night making sandwiches and turning on all the lights at night though, Pogo did nag you both at one point for wasting electricity, so you guys had to revert to using lanterns.

"Oh, I remember your snacks. I'm pretty sure I stepped on half those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches." The formal chimpanzee chuckled. While you tried your best to suppress your laughter, as you remembered the night you witnessed Pogo slipped on one of the marshmallow sandwiches.

"Your father always believed that Number Five was still out there somewhere. He never lost hope." The advanced chimpanzee reassured Vanya that the day of his return would come.

"And look where that got him." The brunette pessimistically said.

Spaceboy ordered you, Pogo, and Grace to gather the others in the living room. You and Pogo didn't waste any time and made sure everyone was in the place where Luther requested them all to be. Grace even hastened her usual pace to make snacks for everyone to munch on.

The numbers of the Umbrella Academy were all gathered in the living room. Although there were only a handful of people in the room, no words were exchanged. The only thing that was audible was the fire crackling, and the sound of Klaus concocting himself's special poison - an alcoholic beverage - from the bar.

"I guess we should get this started," The ape-hybrid-man stood up then suggested. "So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at Dad's favorite spot."

"Dad had a favorite spot?" Allison raised the question, surprised that this never went under her radar.

"You know, under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?" Luther added but everyone else was dumbfounded by the new information.

"Will there be refreshments?" Klaus asked as he brought his drink to where everyone else was at. "Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner."

"What? No. And put that out. Dad didn't allow smoking in here."

"I agree with Master Luther, please put that out Mr. Klaus, the smell is unpleasant and it takes a while to ventilate the house. I recommend you smoke outside if you're hell-bent on letting off steam though." You suggested to the seance as you stood behind his slouching figure, which made him jump, have you been behind him since the very beginning? He didn't see nor hear your footsteps.

"Is that my skirt?" Allison raised a brow at her brother's fashion choice.

"What?" The brown-haired male looked down at the bottom part of his outfit then smiled. "Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathey on the bits."

"Listen up. Still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?" The ape-man said calmly, gaining everyone's attention simultaneously because they knew something was about to implode.

"Like what?"

"Like the way he died."

"And here we go." Diego muttered as he rolled his eyes at Luther.

Based on his words, you knew that Diego thought that Luther was being overdramatic but you thought otherwise, after all you were an accomplice. You knew where this was going, you can only hope they would go for the bait but, you highly doubt it knowing how they are not coordinated with one another. Though, there was a slim chance they would work together, it was slim but it was better than holding onto nothing.

Vanya's brows were knitted together in confusion. "I don't understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack."

"Yeah, according to the coroner." Spaceboy emphasizes 'the coroner' as though they weren't reliable. If anything, they were more reliable than the paparazzi.

"Well, wouldn't they know?"

"Theoretically."

"Theoretically?" Vanya repeated, not following through with where Luther was going with. To be fair, she was not alone, everyone was as confused as her.

"I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange."

" Kudos to Mr. Hargreeves for tricking Luther into believing him. Though, I shouldn't be surprised considering how he becomes gullible when it comes to Mr. Monocle." You mused as you played with the ends of your hair, giving away to the others that you were deep in thought.

Diego will not say it but he's had his eye on you since this meeting has started. He didn't understand why you were taking everything to heart. You were never the type to be serious unless told to be. This 'meeting' wasn't even serious, it was all bullshit. Which made him think, what were you thinking?

"Oh, quelle surprise!" Klaus gurgled through his drink.

"Strange how?"

"He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust." The dark blonde-haired male reasoned but no one was buying his words.

"Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles." The Kraken angrily retorted.

"No, He must have known something was going to happen." Luther turned his attention to Klaus "Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad."

"I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, 'Dad, could you just… stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?'. " The Seance exclaimed with jazz hands.

"Plus, I'm not in the right… frame of mind." The brown-haired male added.

"You're high?" Allison said in disbelief.

"Yeah! Yeah!" Klaus laughed as he confirmed her statement.

"I mean, how are you not? Listening to this nonsense?"

"Well, sober up, this is important." Luther ordered him, to which Klaus reluctantly sighed, knowing he didn't have much of a choice.

"Then there's the issue of the missing monocle." The ape hybrid added to his conspiracy. Even though it was silent, you could hear the others internally groaning as more words came out of his mouth.

"Y/N, while you were cleaning up Dad's room, was the monocle still there?"

"Last night I wasn't assigned to give him medicine, it was Mrs. Grace's turn. So I can't be too sure if he wore the monocle. Though the crime scene cleaners and investigators did let me know that they made sure to keep everything in the same spot." You reported, as your thinking pose shifted into your default one.

"Make sure to check the cameras around the time they were cleaning." He commanded, you bowed in return to confirm you will do as he says.

"Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?" Diego barked as he stood up, nearing Luther's figure.

This was only an assumption but you could tell that Diego was catching onto where Luther was going with. If a fight were to break out, you had to make sure to pin down Diego first before any damage could be done.

"Exactly," Spaceboy agreed then added. "It's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Oh isn't it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed Dad." Diego hissed followed by him glaring at the person who was supposed to lead the Umbrella Academy, instead of retorting back his’ brother’s accusation, Luther went silent.

"You do?!" Klaus exclaimed in disbelief.

"How could you think that?" Vanya questioned.

"Great job, Luther. Way to lead." The Kraken angrily stated as he started to walk away from Luther's shit show - his words not yours.

"That's not what I'm saying." The dark blond-haired male tried to explain but he was cut off.

"You're crazy, man. You're crazy. Crazy."

"I'm not finished!"

"Ok well, sorry, I'm just gonna go murder Mom, I'll be right back."

"That's not what Mr. Luther was saying." You tried to butt in only to be ignored.

"I didn't-" Luther sighed, finally reading into the idea that it was pointless to reason anymore.

"Allison," Luther called out "The Rumor" but she walked away from him. "Jeez…"

"That went well…" He muttered to himself, not realizing there was still another person left behind.

"Master Luther, might I suggest something regarding your endeavor to uncover this mysterious monocle thief?"

"Y/N I appreciate the help but, I think I need time for myself now…" Spaceboy breathed through his nose.

"I understand, I will let you be after this but, you have to keep in mind that whilst investigating you must broaden your scope, especially your list of suspects." You dropped a huge hint, just like the Monocle told you to do so.

"Au revoir." You said, leaving Number 1 by himself, like the lonely number he was.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

16 years ago is the day Umbrella Academy debuted. There's a robbery at Capital West Bank at Main and Sixth, this was Umbrella Academy's first mission so the numbers were dispatched to resolve the issue however, you and Vanya were exempted from it so you were both forced to stay by Mr. Reginald Hargreeves' side.

The eccentric billionaire brought out his small hand held telescope and pointed it to where the mission was taking place. From a distance, you could barely tell what was going on but, you weren't worried for them. The thieves can't compare to the umbrella academy's strength, so you knew you had nothing to worry about because they could handle themselves. However, someone else was bothered by the thought of being left out.

"Why can't I go play with the others?" The young violinist questioned, her eyes longingly staring at her family who were having 'fun' without her.

"We've been through this before, Number Seven," Mr. Hargreeves paused as he lowered his telescope. "I'm afraid there's just nothing special about you."

"Oh."

Silence reigned the atmosphere even after the Monocle left you both to your own devices. At the moment, he was being interviewed by the press. With plenty of time and privacy in your hands, you try to cheer up Vanya but she is still looking over at the others.

"Personally, I think your special Vanya. Mr. Monocle has kept you by his side for a long time now, despite having no powers, so there has to be a reason behind it." You tried comforting her.

Vanya exhaled as her gaze descended down to her feet. "He only keeps me by his side because he knows he can't throw me away."

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

The song 'I think we're alone now' played, Luther usually played that song whenever the Monocle left the house. As the song's lyrics went from one ear to another, you couldn't help but recall the days of the other numbers dancing to the song with their own dance moves that each expressed themselves as a person. The thought of it made you smile as you busied yourself helping Miss Grace around the house.

As you were smiling and humming to yourself the song that Luther played, your attention was suddenly taken away by the sound of thunder rumbling, followed by blue light flashing from the outside, and the sound of all the metal objects being thrown towards the wall. Just like everyone else, you went outside to check what was going on, only to find a blue ball of energy appearing in the middle of the backyard, accompanied by the wind howling in its presence.

"What is it?" The violinist questioned, increasing her volume a little so everyone could hear her.

"Don't get too close!" Allison said worried for both of your safety, with a hand on both you and Vanya's shoulder to stop you guys from doing anything stupid.

"Yeah, no shit." The Kraken shot back.

"Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly." Luther paused as he tried to analyze it again then added. "Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two."

"Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan."

"Out of the way!" Klaus shoved the bigger man with a fire extinguisher in hand.

"What are you-"

The seance sprayed the fire extinguisher towards the strange blue ball but, his attempt didn't work so he decided to throw it towards the hole thinking it would work yet, nothing happened.

"What is that gonna do?" The rumor gave her brother - the rarely sober one - a questioning look.

Klaus shrugged. "I don't know! Do you have a better idea?"

Electricity around the blue ball crackled as the wind howling became stronger, as an image of a person in the blue ball became more visible. It seemed like the person was attempting to cross through the portal, which alarmed Luther and Diego.

"Who, whoa, whoa. Everyone, get behind me." The ape hybrid man stepped up and used his larger frame as a shield for everyone.

"Yeah, get behind us." Diego added as his smaller but well built frame shield you and Klaus.

"Well, I vote for running, c'mon!" The lanky man shouted trying to drag you back into the house but you stood your ground and swatted his hand away.

Everyone is rooted to the ground, their eyes staring right at the portal. As the mysterious person started to become younger and smaller - though you felt like your eyes were deceiving you - then said person fell out. As the portal faded, everyone began to approach the person that came from the portal. The young brown haired male gathered his footing, his clothes larger than his frame, his mere presence left everyone flabbergasted.

"Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?" Klaus asked out loud.

Klaus' question prompted Five to look down and realize he was back to his 15nth year old self, "Shit."

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

At the moment, everyone was trying to process the bizarre specimen before them. Said specimen was not doing anything weird, if anything Five was just prepping his ingredients and materials to make marshmallow sandwiches. Though the others were staring at him as though he was an apparition that the seance had successfully resurrected in one go.

The younger male could feel their inquisitive stares, instead he chose to sigh and raise a question. "What's the date? The exact date."

"The 24th," The petite woman replied, her confusion still apparent on her facial features.

"Of what?"

"March."

"Good." He said and continued on like nothing happened.

Everyone stared at the younger male as though he was out of place. Truth be told, he is out of place among them but from an outside perspective he would easily be deemed as the younger brother. Whilst you, on the other hand, had stopped functioning. You refused to believe that Mr. Hargreeves knew that Five would return the moment he would die.

"So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther asked yet he was ignored by the boy silently making his marshmallow sandwiches.

Noticing his “younger” brother’s neglect, the larger male abruptly stands up. "It's been 16 years."

Five scoffed at the other male's statement, then teleported to the shelf behind Luther. "It's been a lot longer than that."

"I haven't missed that." Spaceboy murmured though you couldn’t tell if he was referring to Five’s attitude or how he loosely uses his powers.

"Where'd you go?" Diego questioned.

"The future. It's shit, by the way." The younger male teleported back to the table once he got what he was looking for.

"Called it!" Klaus exclaimed happily.

"I should've listened to the old man," Five grumbled as he teleported to the fridge and opened it. "You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice."

The brown-haired male blinked back to the table and paused, then examined Klaus' outfit. "Nice dress."

"Oh, well, danke !" The seance accepted his - physically - younger brother's compliment.

"Wait, how did you get back?" The violinist inquired.

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time." Five explained but his answer left them with more questions and more confusion.

"That makes no sense." Diego replied, which he will grow to regret later.

"Well, it would if you were smarter." The younger male retorted. To which the kraken took offense, as he abruptly stood up and tried to tackle Five but Luther blocked him with his arm.

"If you are that desperate to understand, ask someone to translate it for you in simpler terms. If you want to ask who could possibly condense it down to your level of intelligence then, I suggest you ask the other 15 year old in the room." The younger brown-haired male sarcastically recommended as he side glanced at you.

Everyone followed his gaze which resulted in everyone's attention on you, which made you freeze up, not expecting to be acknowledged out of the blue. "Well… From what I understood, Master Five miscalculated during his time travel, because of the miscalculation he was only able to project his consciousness and not his physical form at the time. And, since his physical form didn't develop during this period, he was forced to manifest in his 15 year old body. Am I correct Master Five?"

"Close enough." Five confirmed though there was a slight error in your explanation but he does not want to go into tangent about it because he knew that it would be pointless and he would start deviating from the main topic.

"How long were you there?" Luther asked.

"31 years, Give or take."

Simultaneously, Diego and Luther sat down. You raised a brow at this, complemented with an amused look on your face. Although neither would admit it, they both shared the same brain cell most of the time and it was hilarious.

"What are you saying? That you're 46?" The ape hybrid inquired, his tone giving away his disbelief.

"No, my consciousness is 46. Apparently, my body is now 15 again." The younger male corrected the larger male.

"Wait, how does that even work?" Vanya raised one of her brows yet she was ignored.

"Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh." Five looks out the window, his back facing his siblings as he eats the sandwich, then he faces his siblings. "Bet she's laughing now."

"Delores?" The violinist's question was ignored once again as his gaze was fixated on the newspaper.

"Guess I missed the funeral."

"How'd you know about that?" The ape hybrid man asked.

Five rolled his eyes at Spaceboy's question. "What part of the future do you not understand?"

The younger male read the paper's headline then asked. "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yeah."

"No."

Five clicked his tongue. "Nice to see nothing's changed."

"Uh, that's it? That's all you have to say?" Allison grunted, confused by his stunt.

"What else is there to say? The circle of life." The boy commented as he left, just like how he left to get milk 16 years ago.

"Well… That was interesting." Luther stated as silence settled among them.

Once the abrupt family reunion ended, everyone left the kitchen to prepare themselves for the funeral. On the other hand, the servants of the Hargreeves household were busy tending to their tasks while helping the others. As you finished your chores, Pogo did not hesitate to switch shifts with you in monitoring the CCTVs, though as you were monitoring it. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of Five, his mere existence boggled you. It didn’t help that you kept replaying what Mr. Hargreeves said to you.

"I know he will come back but, you are free to call my statement a hunch if it helps you sleep at night." It still felt unnerving that he knew and it even felt more unnerving seeing the real deal before your eyes.

Although you were in a dazed state, your mind didn’t completely block out the noise from the physical world. When you heard pitter-patter hitting the window, you shifted your gaze to the outside and noticed the change of weather. People say that whenever the sky darkens and the rain occurs at a funeral, it means the angels are mourning because one of God’s children died. While others say it’s both an inconvinience and a coincidence. Truth be told, the rain did fit the atmosphere for mourning, though the children of the Monocle would say otherwise.

As you were monitoring the CCTVs, Pogo called over everyone to prepare themselves for the funeral. In spite of the rain, you all still went along with the funeral. Everyone brought an umbrella with them, except Luther and Diego. The atmosphere was serious but someone disrupted the mourning.

"Did something happen?" The robot asked with a smile which caught Everyone’s stares.

"Dad died. Remember?" Allison reminded her.

Grace’s smile faltered at the statement. "Oh. Yes, of course."

"Is mom okay?” The Rumor asked concerningly.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.” Diego reassured them, the others doubted his words but went along with it anyway.

"Whenever you are ready dear boy." Pogo signaled. To which, Luther stared at the vase and took a few steps before opening the lid, instead of gracefully dancing with the wind, the ashes of the old man fell out.

"Probably would have been better with some wind." The larger man remarked.

"Does anyone wish to speak?" Pogo brought up but everyone went silent.

"Very well," Pogo adjusts "In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master… and my friend, and I shall miss him very much. He leaves behind a complicated legacy-"

"He was a monster." Diego interrupted, despite the horror that was ridden in the other’s faces, Klaus was laughing as more words came out of his brother’s mouth. "He was a bad person and a worse father. The world's better off without him,"

"Diego." Allison called out.

"My name is Number Two." He corrected her then added. "You know why? Because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names. He had mom do it."

"Would anyone like something to eat?" Grace interrupted once again.

"Ms. Grace, that won't be necessary." You shut her down.

"Oh, okay."

"Look, you wanna pay respects?" Diego spits on the dust then gestured at it as he spoke. "Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was."

"You should stop talking now." Luther warned Number Two as he took small steps towards the smaller male.

Diego shifted his gaze towards Luther. "You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One."

"I am warning you."

"After everything he did to you?" Diego slowly walked towards Spaceboy.

"He had to ship you a million miles away-" The latino went right up at his face and glared at the larger male.

"Diego, stop talking."

"-That's how much he couldn't stand the sight of you!" Diego harshly pointed his finger towards Luther's chest.

Luther grabbed Diego's hand then performed a right hook to go for Diego’s head but he dodged it, followed by a left hook to which Diego swiftly dodged as well. Both numbers grunted with each fist they threw and dodged.

"Boys, stop this at once!" The advanced chimpanzees' words fell into deaf ears as both males went on with their fist fight. You were about to intervene but, Five grabbed your wrist.

"Their grown men, not children, let them handle this on their own." Five advised you. You knew it was not a direct order but, his words made you hesitant. Against your will, you stayed by his side.

Luther slammed his arm onto Diego which caused him to stagger back but, he managed to tank it and wore a smug look. The latino then taunted the larger man, "Come on, Big boy."

Luther jabbed but missed, Diego punched him in the gut, as Spaceboy was hunched back Diego drummed the larger man's back.

"Stop it!" The violinist screamed yet no one heed her words.

"Hit him! Hit him!" Klaus egged on.

Luther did a left hook but Diego countered it. Seeing that no one was going to listen to Pogo, he sighed and scoffed as he leaves the children by themselves.

Number One grabbed Diego's collar and threw him near Ben's statue. When the latino was on his knees, Luther tried to punch him but, Diego kneed his stomach. The clad in black tried to kick Luther again but Luther pushed him. Before he could apply more force, Diego turned the tables.

"Get off me!" Diego shouted.

Luther tried to slam his arm but, Diego was quick to dodge with a complimentary punch. Both were now panting and staggering, barely on their feet. Everyone’s eyes were on the fight but you had your eyes on Diego’s distance. He was dangerously near Ben's statue.

"I don't have time for this." Five muttered then return inside.

"Come here, big boy!" Diego taunted once again.

Luther ran towards him and sent a punch towards his direction but due to Luther being slow, Diego was able to dodge it. Ben's statue instead became the victim of Luther's wrath.

"Oh…" Klaus’ face shifted to shock as he witnessed Ben’s downfall… twice if you count the statue as Ben’s replacement.

"And there goes Ben's statue." Allison said under her breath then begins to walk away from the fight.

Out of nowhere, Diego brought out one of his knives.

"Diego, no!" You and Vanya shouted in unison.

Before you could run and tackle the Kraken, he already threw the knife toward Luther’s direction. Luckily, Luther's arm only got scraped. Even though you failed to protect him, you quickly rushed to his side as he frantically pants. He hurriedly covered up the wound and retreated to the house, to which you followed.

Once you were finished with helping Luther, you were quick to go downstairs and check on Five. You already lost him once, you don’t want to lose him under your guard again. On your way there, you passed by Allison who seemed relieved seeing you.

"How's Luther?" She asked, concern evident in her eyes.

"Master Luther's fine, luckily the wound was not deep and it merely grazed him. Though, I hope that next time he does not easily get reeled in by Diego's taunting." You said wishfully even though you were aware that was not bound to happen considering their track record over the years.

"I doubt that. After all, boys will be boys." The rumor’s statement made you smile since there was some truth to it. Although you all had been apart for years, the others didn’t change, they were still the same people you grew up with. Hopefully nothing could change that.

As both of you arrive at the kitchen, you guys witness that Five is looking for something, whilst Klaus was on the table loitering and doing his own thing. You didn’t think much about the number of people until Allison raised a question "Where's Vanya?"

"Oh, she's gone." Klaus replied.

Out of instinct, you were about to go and leave the kitchen to look for the violinist but then, you remembered your original objective and stayed in the kitchen instead and just mentally said sorry to Vanya.

"That's unfortunate." Five said as he slammed the refrigerator closed.

"Yeah." Allison was taken aback by Five’s statement, especially knowing the type of person he usually puts up front, until he added on. "An entire square block. 42 bedrooms, 19 bathrooms but no, not a single drop of coffee."

"Mr. Hargreeves hated caffeine." You reminded him but he glared at you to silence you, which worked.

"Well, he hated children, too, and he had plenty of us." Klaus remarked with a laugh.

"I'm taking the car." The younger male was about to blink to where the cars were parked until you interrupted him. "Master Five, where are you going?"

"To get a decent cup of coffee." He hissed at you with venom.

Truth be told, you didn’t understand why he would need to go outside, he could have just asked you to buy coffee for him or you make one for him instead. Though you supposed that would take longer than he would like, and knowing his patience and unspoken dislike of you, he would not appreciate the time you took.

"Do you even know how to drive?" Allison questioned which only caused his furrow brows to become more prominent.

"I know how to do everything."

As Five was about to teleport away, you grabbed him by the wrist before he could blink away.

"May I come with you?"

"I'm 46 years old, I don't need a babysitter." He hissed, clearly hating the idea of being babysat by you.

"Master Five, I'm not coming with you to babysit you, I'm coming with you because I need to monitor you in case you are feeling the side effects of time travel." You tried to reason, though you admit that reasoning was rather flimsy.

"That's the same thing as babysitting but as a shitty excuse!"

You sighed, thinking you failed but, as you were about to let go of his wrist, he grabbed yours instead. His lips near your ear, as he carefully whispered "I'm only letting you come with so someone can catch me up-to-date."

His voice and the distance between both of your bodies made the gears in your head pause, followed by embarrassment flushing your face. Before you could even respond, Five randomly teleported you both to the garage. For a moment, your mouth was left ajar but, you were able to register the boy's silent gesture to enter the car, to which you followed.

Throughout the whole ride, it was silent until Five spoke, "Did you want out of that shit hole so bad that you were willing to go out with me?"

"No, Mr. Hargreeves wanted me to monitor you once you returned." You lied well it was a half lie but, it was true you wanted to monitor him and something about him was bothering you.

"Even on his deathbed you can't even catch a break. Though, I should expect that from you." The boy huffed passive aggressively, which made you feel awful, why did he hate you so much?

"Before his death, did he ever say anything? Like wanting to reassemble the Umbrella Academy?" The boy in school shorts asked promptly, to which you found yourself hurriedly creating a lie.

"The Monocle did say he had plans on reassembling the academy but he never got to do so..."

From then on, the whole car ride was silent as you guys arrived in front of a donut shop named "Griddy's Doughnut". It was rather retro looking - at least based on what you have heard from books - despite it being past the 2010s, they didn't renovate the building into a more modern look. Which you found yourself questioning if they were short on budget or not…

You walked behind Five as a precautionary measure then entered the building. As the counter came to view, the physically younger male approached it then, rang the bell twice, you both sat down silently as a another customer entered the building. The man took in a deep breath as he took a seat. Once the sound of the bell ringing finally alerted the waitress, the sound of clattering ceramics were cut short followed by her entering the counter.

Waitress chuckled as she wiped her hands clean, "Sorry, the sink was clogged."

You awkwardly smiled at her, silently understanding her pain. Then she took out her notepad and pen from her apron. "So, what'll it be?"

"Uh, give me a chocolate éclair."

"Mm-hmm. Sure."

"Can I get the kids a glass of milk or something?" She said with a smile which made you internally cringe for her, you felt like you already knew what was going to come out from Five's mouth.

Five scoffs then says, "This kid wants coffee. Black."

That was surprisingly milder than you expected but, you were relieved that the donut lady was spared from Five's mouth.

Waitress paused, her mouth agape but quickly tightened as she then turns to the man beside Five, "Cute kid." She chuckled.

In turn, Five forced a smile which only worsened the uneasiness you and the donut lady felt. To divert her attention, You coughed and smiled at her. "I'll just have a glass of water."

"Okay." Her body language more at eased with you, the waitress then began to prep for your orders.

Five sighs, "Don't remember this place being such a shit hole. I used to come here as a kid, used to sneak out with my siblings and eat donuts till we puked."

Your eyes widen at his admission, they snuck out without you? Even Vanya? Were you that untrustworthy that they had to hide it from you?

"Simpler times, huh?" Five mused.

"Eh." The older man looked puzzled but, played along, "I suppose."

Waitress cleared her throat as she placed everyone's orders in front of us, "Here."

Five nudged you with his elbow and motioned for you to pay the bill. You pat your skirt's pockets to look for your wallet but, the other man interrupts your search.

"I got theirs."

"Thank you sir." You thanked him with a small smile, to which he returned.

As you took small sips, everyone did their own thing. Your eyes busy wandering about the building, looking for something that would be useful in a certain scenario, like how the broom could be used as a substitute for a wooden staff, a plate as a distraction, and a butterknife for stabbing.

Five glanced at the other customer's vest then strikes up a conversation with him. "You must know your way around the city."

"I hope so, I've been driving for 20 years."

"Good, I need an address."

Five asks for an address for the place he is looking for and the man jots it down on a napkin then leaves once he's finished. The boy then carefully folds the napkin and stuffs it in his blazer's one of many hidden pockets.

As the brown haired boy was about to drink his coffee, he heard the door swing open then notices the reflection of the newcomer - rather newcomers - from the bell, all of them were wearing combat gear which meant one thing...

"Hmm. That was fast."

You glanced at him, confused by what was happening and how Five knew these people.

"I thought I'd have more time before they found me." His answer did not suffice your curiosity.

"Okay. So, let's all be professional about this, yeah?" One of the masked men proposed but the boy beside you had other plans.

Five placed a hand on your thigh then began to do Morse code of 'SOS' to notify you are both in danger. At first you were in high alert, ready to take out your retractable staff but, the boy followed up his secret message with 'I can handle it'. You were not at ease by his answer, not one bit.

"On your feet and come with us. They want to talk." The leader of the masked men demanded as he used his firearm to gesture for Five to go down on his knees.

"I've got nothing to say." Five said so breezily and arrogance which bothered you even more, is this how he handles live hostages?

"It doesn't have to go this way. You think I want to shoot a kid? Go home with that on my conscience?"

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that…" Five turns to the person who had his firearm pointed towards Five's head. "You won't be going home."

Five retreats his hand from your thigh then grabs a butterknife and teleports behind the group leader and stabbed his neck. Then he quickly disappears, while they were distracted by their dead comrade, he reappeared by your side and teleported you behind the counter. Against your will, you peeked and watched him do his work.

He blinked then reappeared on top of a counter, with a very relaxed pose with a smug look on his face. "Hey, assholes!"

You did not like the fact that he looked like he was enjoying this.

The gunmen were shooting at where the voice came from but, he disappeared, leaving the men to shoot up the place and leave it in ruins. The boy in school shorts reappeared at the front door then knocks on it to get their attention, as they ready their firearms to shoot at him. He mockingly salutes then vanishes once again.

You didn't want to be useless so you took a nearby mop and broke it then, stabbed one of the gunmen using the broken half. Before one of the nearest attacker could shoot a bullet through your skull, Five quickly untied his necktie then choked him.

As he was busy, you threw a plate towards a thug's head to distract him and the others. Whilst Five grabbed a pencil then stabbed one of the gunmen that was about to try and tower his smaller figure.

The last two thugs were about to charge their guns at you but, Five ran to your side and blinked away with you in his arms, as the idiots shot themselves. As silence finally settled in, he reappeared to the masked man he was choking earlier and retrieved his necktie.

As you were examining the donut shop, you noticed one of the gunmen is still alive so you approached him then snapped his neck to end his misery. As you left his side, he noticed that one of the men after him dropped a tracking device, which explained how they found him so quickly.

The brown haired boy asked you to use one of the assassin's knife to cut open his arm and dig into his arm to remove the tracking device. Once you were both done, you guys left the building and dropped the tracking device in a nearby puddle then left as if nothing happened.

Five and you made your way to Vanya's apartment, well it was mostly you leading the way since you were the one who memorized the way there. Instead of loitering outside Vanya's apartment like a normal person, Five had other ideas. Without a word he grabbed your wrist and teleported you guys into the violinist's apartment.

Suddenly, the door clicked and the doorknob turned, which Five took as his cue to turn on the light, which made Vanya jump on her heels. Although you knew it was not an appropriate time, you smiled and waved at Vanya nonetheless. You were just glad she came home safe.

"Jesus!" She jumped, a hand on where her heart is supposed to be.

"You should have locks on your windows." Five suggested.

"I live on the second floor."

"Rapists can climb."

You tried to stop yourself from chuckling at his statement, knowing it was a serious conversation and He probably would not appreciate your response.

"You are so weird." The petite girl mumbled as she sat beside you then, began checking on both of you guys. Based on how her eyes widened, you could tell she noticed there were some specks of blood on both of your clothes.

"What happened?" Vanya's worry evident on her facial features.

"It's nothing." Five dismissed but the violinist's lingering gaze never left the specks of blood on his collar.

"Why are you both here?" Vanya asserted.

"I've decided you two are the only ones I can trust." Both girls in the room raised their brows at Five, this type of situation was rare and rather odd.

"Why me?"

"Because you're ordinary."

You glared at Five and stepped on his foot, to which he rolled his eyes at. He forgot you were very protective of Vanya.

"Because you'll listen." He corrected himself though the petite girl had his doubts.

"Miss Vanya, is it alright if we use your first aid kit? We weren't able to pass by a pharmacy on the way here and I'd like to disinfect and treat Master Five's cut." You asked and she went to the bathroom to get the first aid kit then gave it to you. As the servant, you did your task like always, which is to aid with the numbers wounds.

"When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future. Do you know what I found?" The brown haired boy asked.

"No."

"Nothing… Absolutely nothing."

You paused from tending with his wounds and checked if he was telling the truth, he was dead serious.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

The world lay in ruins, a wasteland of rubble and debris. What was once bustling cities and towns were now piles of twisted metal and broken concrete. The streets were empty, save for the occasional scavenger picking through the remains of what was once a home or a business. The air was thick with dust and smoke, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. It was a world of silence, save for the occasional sound of rubble shifting or the distant echoes of a once-great civilization now reduced to rubble and fire.

Five stood amongst the rubble devastated by what the future had become. It was now a world of despair, a place where hope had been lost and the future was uncertain.

"As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive."

Five walked then found a newspaper and read the title.

"I never figured out what killed the human race, but… I did find something else."

"The date it happens."

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

"The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it." He said, his words were soft but it was enough to cause your heart to tremble in fear. Both you and Vanya had shocked engraved onto your faces, still processing what you guys heard.

Knowing this sounded like it was going to be a long night, you turned to the girl next to you and asked, "Miss Vanya if it's alright, may I put on a pot of coffee?"

Vanya nodded wordlessly, as she agreed this was going to be a long night for everyone else.

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