#until i remembered phil is six and lived in space until recently so he was the only one that could work with it

[dreamnants-mis]

Phil: (Beat three eggs?) Sean: It means like hand-to-hand combat. Phil: (I see.) Chikara: Please get out of the kitchen.

[feetoffire]

Captain Christopher Pike, the rec list

I had this almost finished and ready to post, and then the kitten wiped everything, so here it is, a gazillion years later than I wanted. Yay. 

Ongoing - the fic is complete, but not all chapters are posted

WIP - fic isn’t finished

Incomplete - last-updated-more-than-a-year-ago WIPs

recs under the cut; spoilers abound

AOS

Gen

Pike’s Office by AnxiouslyGoing. Poor Jim has a Tarsus related panic attack, and ends up sleeping in Pike’s office/on Pike’s lap. Academy Era, bonus appearance by Spock, dad!Pike. 2k oneshot.

Another Life by LullabyKnell. Time travel fix it for ST2009. As ever, LullabyKnell gave us a spectacular, delightfully well-written fic. Dadmiral Pike, even if he’s technically a captain at this point. No pairings, everything is platonic. 12 chapters, 61k, T. Complete. 

Watching the Cloud of Dust by AngelQueen. Pike runs into Spock Prime while seeing the Enterprise off. Cue melancholy fluff (it follows Spock Prime around like a dog). 1.7k oneshot, G.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

horizons universe by gracieminabox. Massive, massive series spanning the whole of Chris’ life. Not canon compliant, i.e. Pike Lives. “Christopher Pike, in word and in deed.” Series, 263k in seventeen parts, G-E. 

Altered Horizons by InsaneSociopath. The bar fight goes very differently because Chris gets elbowed in the face. Featuring depressed!bipolar!Chris, who is Not Having A Good Time, Emergency Department (ED) doc Bones, and mother-hen!Jim. Phil is essentially Sir Not Appearing In This Fic, but he and Chris are married. Seven chapters, 14k, G. Incomplete. I adore this one. 

When Darkness Drifts by InsaneSociopath. Tarsus fic. Jim gets adopted by Starfleet but still ends up on Tarsus, except Chris is there. All Tarsus-related warnings apply. Jim and Chris centric; Phil is most present in the last few chapters. Six chapters, 44k, M. Complete. 

Kinktober 2017 by nerdqueenenterprise. What it says on the tin. Series, 13k in eight parts, T-E. Complete. 

A Vacation Long Overdue by nerdqueenenterprise. Reunion sex, mostly. They haven’t seen each other in six months, so they take leave on a remote beach. ~9k oneshot, E. 

The Weight of a Man by imachar. Another huge series charting the evolution of Chris and Phil’s relationship. Both canon compliant and canon non-compliant, so there’s a choice if you want it. Series, 174k in sixteen parts, M-E. Complete. 

shatterproof by gracieminabox. Will Make You Cry. Phil’s POV, STID compliant, featuring a picture from their early days. 4.3k oneshot, M.

Winged Desires and Veiled Persuasions by imachar. Post-Narada, ignores/was written before STID. Bones ends up hanging out with Phil and Chris at Spuhura’s wedding reception, and then the three of them have sex in Phil and Chris’ hotel suite. Pretty much pure smut. 12k oneshot, E. 

McPike

The Wind and Its Satellite by severinne. Long series, some BDSM, eventual Bones/Jim/Pike. Something of a McPike classic. Series, 186k in twenty parts, M-E.

Partridge Fallen From the Pear Tree by severinne. Post-divorce Bones works as a prostitute to make ends meet. Pike comes to town to recruit him, ends up paying for a night without knowing Bones is Bones, and then they both freak the fuck out when Pike realizes who he is. More-or-less just smut and angst. Pre-canon. Three chapters, 12k, E. Complete.

Singularities Verse by FrancescaMonterone. Bones and Pike fall in love, Pike adopts Chekov, Jim is Jim. Bonus Admirals Archer and Reed, and Archer/Reed. Mostly pre-canon, ace Pike. Series, 81k in six parts, T. WIP. 

Need by Noranem. Post STID, Pike and Bones invite Jim into their relationship and their bed. Established McPike, early days Bones/Jim/Pike. Four chapters, 12k, E. Complete. 

Pirk

See All The Stars by HoneyBeeBritt. Chris and Jim fell in love some time before Daystrom. Fluff and angst, with a happy ending promised in part four. I come back to this one regularly, especially part one. Series, 6.2k in three parts, T-M. Ongoing.

Shining On The Quay by topaz. Post-Narada through Beyond, ignores STID. Chris and Jim fall in love, get together, and figure out how to keep a relationship going when one of them is in space and the other is an admiral. Series, 32k in three parts, E. Complete. 

You Still Got Wheels, Kid by withthepilot. Yes, this is partially on here because it’s one of the few (good) fem!Pike fics. Pre-canon, Pike finds out Jim’s alive because she (not Winona or Sam) is listed as his emergency contact. Prostitute Jim. Takes place two years before canon, I think. 12k oneshot, E. 

Moments along the path by InsaneSociopath. Jim, through no fault of his own, is assigned to Pike as an aide bc Command thinks he’s a loose cannon. Pike is delighted /s. (he warms up eventually.) Some Tarsus PTSD; also a fair amount of fluff. Academy Era slow burn that goes right through to (immediately) post-Narada. 46k oneshot, M. Second chapter is artwork. Long but 100% worth it. 

How Do You Want Me, How Do You Want Me? by babykid528. Get together via smut. Feelings abound but talking about them does not. 3k oneshot, E. 

The Ocean Between Us by severinne. They get a drink in a bar. They’re both dead. Something of a get-together fic. Can and Will sucker punch you with feels. STID compliant. 1k oneshot, T.

Mutual Profusion of Good Feeling (aka Wherein the Aliens have a Flair for Mood Lighting) by kayliemalinza. This doesn’t really count as Pirk, but it’s not platonic enough for the gen category. Away mission, the premise is ‘aliens made them do it’ but there’s no sex or fade to black. Romantic, I guess? I really don’t know, but the prose is gorgeous. Also a Pike Lives/returns to the Enterprise AU. 5k oneshot, T.

Timeline Shenanigans

In plain view by IceCream_Junkie, Killermanatee. Pike/Pike. What can I say? The image of Greenwood’s Pike and Mount’s Pike together is very pretty. 2k oneshot, E.

Out of This World by TheAsexualofSpades. Space Puns. That is all. 1.1k oneshot, G. 

Discovery/quasi-SNW

Gen

A Small Storm by EKthered. Spock goes to visit his captain and ends up comforting him instead. Post Boreth. 2.3k oneshot. 

you were never broken by ordinary things by SiderumInCaelo. Michael Burnham & Chris Pike. Michael has only an inkling of what’s going on, but she manages to comfort Chris anyway. Post Boreth. 1.2k oneshot. 

Piler | Chris Pike/Ash Tyler

the chair and the badge by ninjamcgarrett. The boys are soft and in love. Lots of smut, but a fair amount of plot. Their respective traumas are addressed too, so there’s plenty of h/c. Honestly? My favorite from this pairing. Series, 59k in five parts, M-E. Ongoing. 

Reality by aishahiwatari. Initially a take on how these two idiots settled their differences, and evolution from there. Part two is post-season two of Disco. Series, 5k in two parts, E. Complete.

survival is insufficient by topaz. Post-Disco; they get together to remember Discovery’s crew, and then they get together. Traumas are addressed. Part two is a sort-of case fic, TW starvation. Series, 33k in two parts, E. WIP.

Feeling Too Deeply by NightOfTheLand. Established Piler, post-Disco season two couch sex. 6k oneshot, E. 

dancing to a beat of our own, flying with the speakers blown by wolfhalls. Neither of them want to talk about anything, aka Horrible Coping Mechanisms TM. Bottom Pike, quasi-hurt/comfort. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Christmas in Sickbay by lah_mrh. Chris is accident- and injury-prone and has a new reason to hate spiders. Ash just wants to spend time with his boyfriend. 1k oneshot, G. 

The Pillow Will Disappear When I Forget I Put a Pillow There, Worry Not by prototype_malice. Sleepy fluff and cuddles. (they deserve it.) 665 words, oneshot, G. 

Chris Pike/Una | Number One 

it will take place without witnesses by love_in_the_time_of_kohlinahr. Post Disco, Pike is struggling with the knowledge of his future, so he and Una play chess until stupid o’clock in the morning (as one does), and then he lowkey has a panic attack. Una POV. Also features sleepy sex, but it isn’t plot-important and can be skipped over, if you wish. 2k oneshot, E. 

Overtime by Astronoddingoff. Una has Thoughts about Chris working doubles for the better part of a week. Also men get pegged. Definite sub!Chris. 7k oneshot, E. 

Terminal Velocity by Astronoddingoff. Una pegs Chris and drags his favorite fantasy out of him. Chris is On Board with all of this. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Boyce/Pike) and hardcore switch/sub vibes from Chris. 6.8k oneshot, E. 

All for One by knightinmourning. D/s universe, where Pike had/has to hide the fact that he’s a sub to make (and stay) captain. Mostly reccing for part two, which has a fair amount of hurt/comfort (and also hints at threatened sexual assault and definite torture; be forewarned). Technically also Chris/Phil and Chris/Spock, but there’s no pairing sex, and part two is entirely Una’s POV. Series, 4.2k in two parts, M-E. Probably incomplete. 

A Gentle Touch by jedi_harkness. Chris and Una shower together. Body worship, no sex. So Much Fluff (and also happy tears). It’s super sweet. 1.7k oneshot, T.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

Decompression by Astronoddingoff. Chris is elated by a recent treaty success and the time spent dirtside. Phil does his best to make him even happier. Lowkey sub Pike. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Pike/One). 3.5k oneshot, E. 

Most Pike/Boyce fics fall under the AOS tags

Una/Phil/Chris

Triangulate by Astronoddingoff. Sex pollen, but they’re already-kind-of-mostly in an established relationship. Recent miscommunications lead to angst. They all love each other and they’re all idiots. Lowkey sub Pike. Two chapters, 20k, E. 

Holy by Astronoddingoff. Self-actualizing featuring religious guilt/conflict, i.e. Pike is a sub and religion is weird about enjoying yourself. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Happy Birthday by MeganMoonlight. It’s Phil’s birthday. Cue breakfast in bed. 530 word oneshot, G. 

[ka-writes]

——————

Welp sorry it be late, schools a bitch..

——————

Warning: murder, crime, cussing, depression, mentions of abuse, insanity.

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Ao3 link:

Other fic:

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 7:

——————

Chapter 8: Some sort of remedy..

——————

Days turned into months which all ended in an ever growing pit of hopelessness.

Six months had passed since they lost the starlings. SIX fucking months, and not a damn sign that the Dream Team were even out there.

His eyes burned as he stared into the void for hours on end. The only thing keeping him from going out of the emergency hatch being the warm cup of coffee that somehow kept it’s warmth on the freezing ship.

His skin was flaky and sticky, yet he couldn’t be bothered to wash it. His stomach turned in pain, when was the last time he had eaten? His throat was sore from the coffee and his entire body complained about the stress.

The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache that seemed to seep from his core and into his bones and blood, making him more weak than physical health could ever compare too.

At this point tears were long forgotten, only leaving stains where they should be. It did nothing but cause more damage than good. His brain turned with thoughts that swore there would be vengeance for whoever stole his family.

The time had given him plans of what he would do. Most of them ending up with the starlings safe and the ship and inhabitants blown up in a painful death made by his favorite chemicals. There would be no time for them to escape and nothing would remain if he could help it.

Even then his mind was brought back to the sheer feeling of the empty void that was so easily accessible. No one could stop him if he tried, yet everything held him back.

He took a sip staring into the void, his mind buzzing with thoughts bouncing from topic to topic.

He remembered Tubbo’s eyes. The way they shone with a crave for knowledge, causing the kid to go into a fit every time Wilbur told him to go to bed.

He also remembered the distrust that gleamed in his eyes when he brought him back from that awful ship. The one that enviably broke the kid. The one that made his nature ever so careful not allowing the kid to trust anyone.

He couldn’t blame him. What Schlatt did caused his mind to forever be closed off.

He was worried for who Tubbo would blame. If it was Tommy, there would be too many issues that could cause them to fall in a different rabbit hole.

His mind wandered to the human. The bright and explosive human, that made the charred heart of Wilbur Soot turn. He had already grown attached to the kid. It had only been three days before they were ripped apart. It hurt much more than he thought it would.

His mind buzzed to the what if’s both good and bad. He took another sip. This time he stared into the void with admiration. His mind focused on plans and back ups. The details and potential failed choices. Trials and errors that only existed within the limits of his mind.

He didn’t move until Phil told him it was lunch. He pushed down the urge to hold back for another meal and ate the food offered.

He dragged a bean bag and coffee table to the spot and stared into the endless void. Continuing his train of thought, only pausing to answer questions from his family.

——————

“C’mon!” Tubbo whispered to the lacking Tommy who still couldn’t quite compete with the other’s agility. “The tracker says he’s in this room.”

They stalked silently to the door, having already memorized the creaks in the hallway. Tubbo pushed the door open and they dived into the room, barrel rolling so they wouldn’t be above the bed.

The pair clipped on gas masks and released the sleeping fumes. Tubbo signaled Tommy allowing him to sneak to the side of the bed. Carefully he laid down a bucket and took a knife out.

The man fell silent. His breathing stopped and there was no motion in his body.

After the blood stopped dripping they staged a suicide and left the room. Closing the distance between them and their ship easily.

Once they got to the ship, their hero congratulated them and they headed back to their room.

Strangely enough Tommy didn’t feel any type of excitement or joy at the mission going well. It felt wrong and burned his gut making him want to crawl into a ball and never wake up.

If he told Dream he would say he wasn’t going with his instincts and that he should forget the poison he was taught.

Dream was right.

So he laid in bed and silently congratulated himself, even though he wasn’t proud.

——————

The mission went well, in Dream’s eyes.

In Tubbo’s opinion it could’ve gone better. The human was sloppy and lacked quite a bit and was sloppy when it actually came to the job.

He was also being sloppy since he communicated more than once during the entire thing.

Hopefully he won’t have to do that when he finishes the escape route.

The only good thing that came out of the ship was he stayed fairly fit and was more attentive then he ever had been. Why did he start slacking in that sense?

His mind wandered to the many nights he stayed up late working with Wilbur on his latest fascination. Or when Techno would read his many different novels to him, since he wasn’t able to read as well as the rest of the crew. Or the times Phil would show him the cabin and teach him small tricks on how to steer the ship. Or when Ranboo and him stayed up for hours on end, exchanging small conversations and staring into the vast void of space.

Tears threatened to fall.

His mind wandered to the conversation Ranboo and Tommy had. How useless and pitiful that jealousy was. Now the one he could blame his recent pain on was laying in the same room as him, just as restless as he.

The human was strong and passionate, he could give him that. But he was also stubborn and impulsive, along with being impossibly loyal.

If Tubbo could get him on his side, they would most likely be able to get off the ship and hopefully kill their captures, if they weren’t able to get that far Wilbur and Phil definitely would.

He settled for letting himself fall asleep to the soft breaths of the human. He knew the other was still awake. He hadn’t really slept the entirety of their imprisonment most likely due to paranoia.

He wondered if he tried, maybe they would be friends or if that only existed in another world.

His thoughts roared with possibilities and thoughts of other lifes. Slowly he drifted into a slumber.

——————

His captain had turned into someone he no longer recognized.

Full of a sickly passion making him crave power.

Anyone and anything that got in the way was destroyed, which is how George found himself packing his case and booking a flight ticket off of the next planet.

He suggested they change the training for the starlings. Dream absolutely hated that and saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.

George could feel the tears prickling his skin as he remembered how human the Dreamon looked when he finished his screaming. There were no words for the blood lust and betrayal in the dreamon’s eyes.

He bit back the pain that seemed to be swallowing him whole.

An idea blossomed.

He could use this moment as a last act of defiance.

A way to show how much pain the crew brought him.

A smile perked on his face.

An insane laugh bubbled.

Without another thought he tampered with the crew’s dreams. Letting them have the most peaceful sleep of their lives.

Dream had made a mistake. The co pilot landed the ship smoothly on the next planet.

He walked to the one room he refused to visit and opened the door.

The droneling was the first out, quickly followed by the human.

The two were off on an unknown planet and the ship was back in motion. Stopping at the planet they would use to resupply the ship and drop the ex-crewmember at.

The ship lost three inhabitants that day. Two of which got out undetected and one that would definitely have a target on his back for the rest of his life.

The other crewmen were kicked off at the next planet leaving a furious dreamon to wilt in his own madness in the void of space.

——————

Chapter 8-End

Words: 1455

——————

Hahahhahahahhabababbabbaba

——————

George- gets kicked out..

George- Ima make Dream mad

Proceeds to make everyone leave..

——————

Remember likes are appreciated but reblogs are better!! Stay safe and take care of yourself!! <3

——————

Chapter 9:

[danfanciesphil]

Edgelord!Dan x ObliviousBisexual!Phil AU [CHAPTER SEVEN] (based off the 80′s classic Some Kind of Wonderful)

Synopsis: Dan has one friend, and only because he was forced into it. Phil is loud, excitable, and irritatingly happy all of the time. Phil seems to find Dan’s perpetual attitude funny, and despite Dan’s best efforts to shun him and everyone else, wants to be around him all the time. That is, until Phil starts talking about Amanda Jones. Word Count: WIP (Estimated 12-15 chapters) updates every Tuesday Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smoking, swearing, implied prostitution, broken home, class divide/classism, pining, light homophobia, sex

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six]

[Ao3!]

Dan wishes he woke up to soft arms cradling him, and the fond, familiar twinkle in Phil’s vibrant blue eyes. He wishes he woke up to a kiss, as passionate and searching as it had been yesterday. He wishes he woke up to warmth, and tentative happiness, and a sweet, slow beginning of something hopeful and beautiful and new.

Instead, he wakes up alone. He only stirs because he hears a sound, a general shuffling from afar. He blinks, blearily, at the empty space beside him. The indent of Phil is still pressed into the quilt and pillow. He sits up with some difficulty, trying to make sense of the morning, and trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. It’s only when he sees Phil, at the foot of his bed, pulling on his socks with the haste of a fugitive on the run, that he remembers.

Happiness, romance, sweetness - these things are reserved for girls like Amanda. Beautiful, charming people that spend their lives skimming cloud nine, a lucky clover tucked behind one ear. Boys like Dan get strife, and futility, and their hearts stomped on by people that don’t care. He swallows a sharp needle, feeling his eyes sting. Phil glances up, like he’s heard the murmur of Dan’s realisation; there’s guilt brimming in his eyes.

“Oh,” he says softly. He doesn’t seem to see that it’s too late for him to be quiet. Dan is awake now. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“You’re leaving?” Dan asks, though the answer is perfectly obvious.

Phil straightens, and nods, avoiding Dan’s eye. “Yeah, I’ve… got a lot to do today.”

“Like what?”

The wave of Phil’s answering smile crashes over Dan’s head, but as it breaks, he feels the guilt lurking beneath the water.

“Tonight is Prom night,” Phil answers. “The big night.”

Dan’s eyes sting ferociously. He has to squeeze them shut. He hopes Phil can’t see the moisture from this far away. “Oh,” he says, chewing the inside of his cheek. “You’re going through with it, then.”

“Of course!” Phil’s voice is too high. “You know that this is the only thing I’ve talked about for weeks.”

Dan nods, his lips pressed together. If Phil weren’t already halfway out the door, he’d kick the guy out himself. “Right.”

“You’re still gonna come, right?” Phil asks. There’s no mistaking the nervousness of his stance, the tremor in his voice.

Dan screws his eyes shut again. “Yeah, I’ll still come.”

“Okay,” Phil says quietly. “Well, I’ll see you later then.”

Without his permission, Phil’s name forces it’s way out of Dan’s mouth, and Phil hesitates, warily. “Don’t you wanna… talk about it?” The words are spiky; they stick in his throat, choking him.

“Talk about what?”

“About last night,” Dan says.

“Oh,” Phil says awkwardly. There’s a flush edging his sharp cheekbones. “About the kiss, you mean?” He laughs, and the sound of it is jarring. “Yeah, thanks again. Needed the practise. You won’t, um… won’t be needing to do me any more favours now.”

Dan nods, silently. If Phil wants to pretend the other bit, the second bit, didn’t happen, Dan isn’t going to humiliate himself by trying to bring it up. Maybe they’ll never talk about it again. Maybe that’s good. Maybe one day, in the distant future, it’ll be such a vague, hazy memory that Dan could convince himself it was all a dream.

“So I’ll see you this evening,” Phil says after a while.

Dan doesn’t reply.

When he lifts his gaze to the door, Phil is gone.

*

“Where’re you going?”

Dan freezes. If he’d just come downstairs a few seconds earlier, he might have made it out of the door without being caught. He swallows, trying to remain calm as he turns slowly on the spot, his hand still on the knob, ready to dart out. His mum is leaning against the wall, staring at him. There’s a can of beer in her hand, half empty, and a smirk twisting her lips. Her half-lidded gaze drags over him, head to toe, absorbing the sight.

“Dressed pretty fancy for work, aren’t’cha?” She brings the can to her lips.

Dan looks at her feet, feeling hot and uncomfortable in this stupid outfit. He’d just about convinced himself, after hours of staring into his mirror, plucking and fussing at every item of clothing, every stray hair, that he looked okay. Now he wishes he could just rip everything off and crawl back into bed.

“I’m not going to work,” Dan mumbles.

“What’s that?” His mum asks loudly, stepping closer towards him. She wobbles unsteadily on her feet, indicating that this is not her first beer of the evening. “You slacking off, Daniel?”

Dan drags his eyes up to meet hers, sighing. “No, Mum. I’ve got the night off.”

“And why’s that?”

Dan hesitates, wondering if there’s a way he can get out of telling her. But she’s staring at the outfit he’s wearing again, ripping it apart with her sneer.

“It’s Prom,” Dan admits, quietly.

There’s a silence in the wake of his words that Dan doesn’t expect. When he looks up at his mother again, there’s a strange, distant expression on her face. A minute or so passes, and Dan wonders if he should maybe just leave. Then, she lowers the hand holding her can, letting it rest at her hip.

“That’s why you’ve got a shirt on,” she says, her voice unusually calm.

Dan nods, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of her mood.

“I bought you that shirt,” she says, staring. Dan shifts under her gaze, wriggling around in the stiff material. He’s still not used to the feel of it. “Did I?”

She looks up at him, her eyes wet and lost, searching his face for answers. Dan sighs, but nods at her. “Yeah, mum. You bought it for me. For the funeral.”

She nods, biting her lip. “Does it still fit?”

Dan shrugs, trying not to let her see how difficult the restrictive material makes this simple movement. “Well enough.”

“Can I get a picture of you, baby?” Her voice breaks a little.

Dan presses his lips together, cheeks burning. “I’m late,” he says, turning away. “I have to get going.”

“You takin’ a girl?”

Dan pauses, his hand still gripping the doorknob. He shakes his head, not sure if she’ll even see the movement.

“A boy?” It catches him off guard.

He doesn’t bother turning around. “What, you care about my love life now?”

There’s a split second where a look of distress splinters his mum’s face, but it’s gone in a moment, replaced by a hardened, weathered glare.

“Oh, fuck off then, I’m only tryin’a be nice,” she growls, taking another swig from her can. She walks back towards the kitchen, practically snarling. “Don’t pretend like you’re so goddamn innocent, Daniel. Don’t think I dunno what you get up to when you’re not in this house. Fucking slut you are, an’ the whole town knows it. No surprise you couldn’t get a date to your own Prom. Just this mornin’ I saw some skinny kid sneaking outta your door before the damn sun rose-”

The door slams shut behind Dan as he hurls himself out of it. His mum’s ranting is a muffle now, but it’s still going on, even as he walks, speedily as he can, down the path. His hands have curled into fists again, and he can feel how hard he’s digging his nails into his palm, but he can’t stop himself. It hurts, but he just keeps walking, vaguely aware of the cold wind whipping against his skin. Perhaps he should have brought a coat or something, but he can’t feel much, so it probably doesn’t matter.

He had the sense to snag Ricky’s keys off the counter earlier on, when his mum was still asleep, so he opens the car quickly and hops in. At the driver’s seat, he takes a minute to breathe, waiting for the vicious fangs of his mother’s words to drain of potency. He shoves it all down, word by word, compressing it in a dark corner of his mind. Then, he starts the engine. He goes through the routine of reversing, pulling onto the street, flicking on the headlights, mind blank. Before he knows it, he’s outside Phil’s door.

*

It’s a testament to how well Phil truly knows him that he asks if something’s the matter the second he catches sight of Dan’s face.

“Why? Can you think of any reason I’d be upset?” Dan bites out in response. That chokes any further questions from Phil’s mouth.

They pack themselves into the car, Phil being rigid and awkward, trying not to crease his suit.  

“I’ve never been in your brother’s car before,” Phil says, looking around. “It’s nice.”

“It’s a car,” Dan replies, turning the key in the ignition. “If it’s not good enough for your precious Amanda, you’ll have to find another way to Prom.”

Phil doesn’t say anything, but the look he gives Dan, small and apologetic, softens Dan’s hard exterior. He sighs heavily, pulling off the kerb. There’s a pause while Dan waits at the end of the road for a space to pull out.

“You look really nice,” Phil says softly.

The blunt blow of the unexpected compliment winds him. Dan stares resolutely out of the windscreen, his lips pressed together. Finally, after what feels like years suspended in this bizarre limbo of Ricky’s crappy car with his best friend and worst enemy, Dan snags a space between two cars, and pulls onto the main road.

“She lives-” Phil starts to say, but Dan cuts him off.

“I know where she lives.”

“Okay.” Phil’s voice is subdued, like a told-off toddler.

Amanda Jones lives quite close to Dan, as it turns out. He hadn’t realised this until recently, because he never sees her around, but then he doubts she’s often home. From Dan’s front door, it’s a few streets over, and under the bridge. PJ told him where exactly. He walked there once, a few days ago, disguising his  stalking session as a meandering walk.

He doesn’t know what he expected to find. Some marker on the house maybe that might indicate who lived there, and that she wasn’t the same as the residents of the neighbouring ones. That this girl had betrayed her upbringing to climb into bed with the enemy. But there was nothing. Amanda’s house is just the same as those either side of it. As Dan drives up to it now, he turns to look out of his window, trying to see anything he might have missed.

The houses on this side of the street are classic council houses – red brick, semi-detached, stuck to one another like they’ve been glued into their situation. A slim black railing separates the sliver of grass in front of Amanda’s house from the one next door. None of these ‘front gardens’ are particularly pleasant to look at, but Amanda’s in particular is overgrown and riddled with weeds. There’s a bike, cloaked in wet, coppery rust leant against the outside wall. Some toys – deflated footballs, a broken nerf gun, pieces of toy cars and tractors – litter the ground, rejected.

“Well,” Dan says. “Here we are. Want me to slay the dragon while you climb the tower?”

Phil lets out a snort of laughter. He doesn’t move. “I’m nervous.”

“I’d be weirded out if you weren’t,” Dan says.

For whatever reason, this seems to be enough to spur Phil onwards. He nods, and opens his door. Simply because he feels he should, Dan opens his own door, and joins him on the pavement. Dan side-eyes Phil, who appears to be stuck to the pavement. His hands are twitching.

“Go on, then,” Dan tells him, inclining his head towards her door.

Phil turns to him, eyes frantic. “Maybe this is a stupid idea.”

Yes, Dan wants to say. Yes, it fucking is a stupid idea. Why the fuck did you ever think it up? Why can’t you be interested in boys, and me in particular? Why do you, of all people, have to have fallen into Amanda Jones’ ridiculous, pretty, doe-eyed trap?

“Bit late for all that now,” Dan says instead, dropping his eyes to the floor.

Phil seems to be waiting for him to say something else, but at that moment, a burst of shouting erupts from inside the house, sounding like an argument. Phil looks up worriedly, dithering on the spot, clearly wondering whether to go and intervene. Instead, the front door flings itself open, and out flounces Amanda in a pink, shimmery dress. It falls down to her dainty ankles, the wafting material floating like wisps of candyfloss as she storms down the few steps from her house towards them, her Barbie heels click-clacking along the short stone path. She kicks a piece of toy tractor out of her way as she goes, sending it flying into one of the railings. When she gets to the two of them, she stops, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Crap, and she looks incredible.

It makes Dan want to curl up on the floor in front of her and weep. It might as well all be over now, he might as well surrender himself to a life of inconsequentiality, because he will never, in a thousand years, be able to compete with the stunning, ethereal, angelic, feminine beauty of Amanda fucking Jones. Her high cheekbones are dusted with an iridescent highlight, which glitters each time she turns her face. Her eyelids sparkle, dusted with varying shades of expertly blended pinks, matching her dress exactly. Her hair is naturally curly, but now it falls in perfect, loose ringlets, at once effortless and elegant, pinned in some places with tiny rose coloured gems. Dan had been joking before about the dragon, but if someone walked along and didn’t assume she is a Princess, he’d be amazed.

“Sorry about that,” Amanda says. Her long, fake eyelashes flutter as she rolls her eyes. “You know parents. Anyway, hi.”

She looks Phil up and down, smiling in approval. Dan doesn’t blame her; Phil looks like he was cut out of a Cosmo article on ‘Prom Night Looks For Your Man’.

“Hi,” Phil says, practically whispering.

There’s a blush on his cheeks at the sight of her. She smiles at him warmly, then her eyes slide towards Dan, and she frowns. “What’s this, then? Two dates for the price of one?”

For a moment, Phil doesn’t react. Then, his brain seems to catch up with his ears. He laughs, his blush deepening.

“Oh, no, um,” he glances at Dan, clearly struggling for an explanation. “Dan’s just- he’s, um-”

“I’m gonna drive you guys,” Dan says, saving him. “So you can drink and not worry about getting home.”

Phil nods, agreeing silently; he seems even more on edge than before. It’s agony to observe him in this bumbling state, knowing full well it’s Amanda’s immaculate silhouette that has him in such a tizzy.

“That’s… very good of you,” she says, sounding suspicious.

“That’s me. Such a good guy.” Dan sighs, opening the door to the driver’s side. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

Before they can reply, Dan just slips into the car, pulling the door shut behind him. Unfortunately, this is not fast enough to block out the sound of Phil, getting ahold of himself at last, leaning down to whisper in her ear:

“You look beautiful, Amanda.”

*

“So… I’ve been trying to play it off like it’s totally cool we’re not heading in the direction of the school for the past five minutes,” Amanda pipes up, breaking an awkward silence that has descended over the three of them. “But it occurred to me that I don’t really know you guys that well… so like, could you maybe tell me where we’re going?”

“Oh, sorry,” Phil says from beside her. “I told Dan to take us to get something to eat first. I mean…” Dan flicks his eyes up to the rearview mirror, watching Phil assess Amanda’s reaction. “If- if it’s okay with you.”

She shrugs, looking amused. “Sure, I could eat. What did you have in mind?”

Phil beams, shoulders slumping in relief. “Pizza.”

Dan’s gaze shifts to Amanda in the mirror, studying carefully. To his astonishment, she grins, her white teeth sparkling. “I love pizza.”

Phil leans forwards to poke Dan in the shoulder. “Told you.”

*

Dan has genuinely no idea why he agreed to do this. Later, when this horrendous night is over with, Dan will be stuffing skittles into his mouth to the tune of N-Sync’s Bye Bye Bye. Hardly a worthy commiseration prize given that he will have had to spend hours watching a sickening display of heart-shattering cuteness featuring the boy he loves. With someone else. He drags on his cigarette, fingers shaking. It’s not even cold.

He found a pack of Ricky’s Marlboro Reds in the glovebox, but to his disappointment, discovered only one single cigarette left in the box. At least he can stop stinking of cherry for a while. He’s leant against the boot of the car, which isn’t an easy task considering how much it wobbles and shudders each time either Phil or Amanda shift the tiniest bit. They’ve spread their takeaway feast on the car bonnet, then perched up beside it, backs against the windshield as they share slices of pizza, talking about school, the town, their favourite music.

The night is so perfect it’s as if the Gods sculpted it for them. Dan raises his chin to look up at the sky, which is littered with hundreds of stars. They barely ever shine down on this bleak, grey town, but tonight they are bright and abundant. Perhaps Amanda just attracts them with her radiance. Or perhaps they came out to peer down at the ultimate third wheel, pathetically hiding just out of view.

Dan swallows, tasting nothing but ash on his tongue. He can hear them talking, still. The spot Dan has driven them to is a popular ‘make out’ destination. It’s only because it’s Prom night that there’s nobody here this evening. It occurs to Dan, belatedly, that Phil will probably, at some point this evening, kiss Amanda in front of him.

The thought is a lance of pain striking through his gut. It’s debilitating just to entertain it; for a good few seconds, Dan can’t so much as move his limbs. The cigarette between his fingers becomes heavy and leaden. It drips ash onto his hand, and he curses, flapping his hand at the pain. He leans his head back against the car, trying not to think of anything. Clearing his mind, however, only makes it all too easy to focus on the conversation happening a few feet away.

“So, got any other surprises in store for me before we actually get to the dance?” Amanda asks.

“If I told you, they wouldn’t be very good surprises, would they?”

Dan shakes his head at Phil’s lame attempt to seem enigmatic. He’s probably bursting to tell her a step-by-step itinerary of the night ahead; he’s not exactly the world champion at keeping his lively emotions inside.

“Ah,” Amanda says. “I see how it is.”

There’s a pause, and Dan relishes it, willing it to go on longer, to cross the border from an ordinary lull into a painfully awkward gap between their banter.

“It was nice of your friend to do this,” Amanda says unexpectedly. Dan flinches. “Really nice. What’s his name, again?”

The car jostles a little, as if Phil’s fidgeting. “Dan.”

“How’d you get him to give up his whole night to drive us around?” Amanda asks, clearly itching with poorly concealed curiosity. “Does he owe you some massive favour or something?”

The car jostles again, making Dan’s head knock against it. “Hah,” Phil chokes out, “no. Um, I just bribed him, y’know? Used his weakness. He loves Skittles.”

“Skittles?”

“Yeah,” Phil replies, chuckling. “He’s mad for them.”

There’s a pause, and Dan finds himself straining to hear the next words.

“You’re telling me…” Amanda says slowly. “Dan agreed to miss out on Prom, dress up all smart, drive us about, wait around for us to chat or whatever, drive us to school… all for some Skittles?”

Dan smirks to himself, though he knows none of this is the slightest bit funny. It is kind of ridiculous that anyone would actually believe such a ridiculous story. It seems absurd, suddenly, that Phil hasn’t caught on to the real reasoning behind Dan’s unending generosity.

Phil forces out another fake sounding laugh. “I guess he just really likes Skittles.”

“How many packs?”

“Four? Five, maybe? I can’t remember what we settled on.”

It was five, Dan thinks bitterly. And if Phil thinks he can forget the Skittles, he’s very wrong. Dan might be hopelessly in love with him, but he’s not doing this for absolutely nothing. There’s another pause, and Dan sighs, wondering for the millionth time what on earth he’s doing to himself, and why.

“Wow,” Amanda says. “Good friend.” 

“Yeah, he is,” Phil says unexpectedly. “I know he comes off all tough and moody, but he does care about me. He’s been really good to me recently. Listened to me prattle on about you, for one thing.”

Amanda laughs. “You talk to him about me?”

“Oh, all the time,” Phil says, sounding glad for the change of subject. Dan fumbles for his phone, trying to distract himself. “I talk his ear off, actually,” Phil says. “He’s probably sick of it. Actually, I know he’s sick of it.”

“Poor Dan,” Amanda jokes.

Dan rolls his eyes, nodding silently. Poor Dan, indeed.

“Yeah,” Phil laughs. “I should stop annoying him about it. I mean, he tends to look annoyed sort of permanently, but I can always tell when he’s actually annoyed because he gets this little jumpy twitch in his jaw right here, like he’s clenching his teeth too hard.”

Baffled, Dan unclenches his jaw, rubbing it with one hand.

“You must annoy him a lot, to notice something like that,” Amanda says, teasingly.

Though Dan would hate to admit it aloud, Amanda’s actually pretty funny. She sounds easy to talk to, which is hard to find in anyone, let alone one of the Elite crew.

“Probably,” Phil agrees, chuckling. “But I’ve also studied his face a lot, so I know a lot of his quirks.”

“Um, what?”

Dan facepalms mentally, wondering if Phil ever actually rehearses what he’s about to say before letting the words spill off his tongue.

“Oh, I mean I draw him a lot,” Phil says, laughing. Amanda titters politely, but it sounds confused. “I use him for practise because we hang out all the time. He doesn’t usually mind, I don’t think.”

“You draw?” Amanda asks, and Dan frowns.

She doesn’t even know he’s an artist. She can’t care about him much to not have learned his one hobby.

“Yeah!” Phil exclaims happily, not seeming to care. “That’s what I want to do. Well, art anyway. I draw and paint. I like drawing people, but I’m bad at keeping to the rules. That’s what my teacher says. I tend to want to make them into birds or give them antennae or rainbow skin or something. So, I make myself practise every day at just drawing people normally. Usually it’s a pain, but I don’t mind drawing Dan for some reason. Maybe it’s because I know him so well. I could probably draw him blindfolded at this point.”

A heat creeps along Dan’s cheeks. It’s ridiculous to feel so pleased about something so obviously innocent. His place in Phil’s life is essentially as his mannequin. Yet somehow, it’s one of his proudest achievements.

“That’s sweet,” Amanda says. “You two must be very close.”

“I guess,” Phil replies. “Um, would you excuse me a sec? All this soda is going right through me.”

Amanda bursts into laughter. “Are you gonna pee in the hedge?”

Phil just laughs along with her. “Don’t see a convenient port-a-loo.”

“You’re a brave man,” Amanda says.

The car jostles, and then the tramp of Phil’s footsteps indicates his wander off into the wilderness. Dan pokes his head around the side of the car just in time to see his vague silhouette ducking into a thicket of branches a few meters away.

Dan pushes off the car then, pacing a few steps away to smoke in silence. A few moments of peace go by, and then he gets the uncanny sense that someone is closely observing him. He spins around to find Amanda stood a foot away, her glittery eyes trained on him.

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t mean it. “Is the smoke bothering you?”

“Smoking will kill you,” she says, then steps towards him and plucks the cigarette from his fingers. “Or so they tell us.” 

She lifts it to her lips and takes a long, deep drag, eyes fluttering. In the milky moonlight, the sparkles refract, sending shimmery pearls rippling over the bracken nearby. 

Dan watches all of this in abject shock. Only a minute ago he’d have bet good money on the fact that Amanda Jones has never so much as sucked on Hardy’s vape stick. 

“Maybe I don’t wanna live that long,” Dan says, still wide-eyed as she hands the cigarette back to him. 

“Ooh,” Amanda says with a smirk. “Edgy.”

Despite himself, Dan feels his own mouth twitching. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah. I wanna know why you’re doing this.”

“Smoking? Well, I need some sort of vice to get through this. And I don’t have any coke to hand.”

Her features are utterly perfect, symmetrical and dainty. Even in the low evening light, she is an angel. “I mean the driving.” 

“I’m his mate,” Dan says, turning from her; he can’t look at something so beautiful anymore. It’s almost painful. “I’m doing him a favour.”

“Pretty big favour,” Amanda says. She holds out her hand for the cigarette again. Dan thinks about refusing her, but it would only make things awkward. He hands it to her carefully, and she takes a drag, sighing in pleasure. When their eyes meet, she says: “Are you in love with him?”

“What?” Dan almost drops the cigarette as she passes it. His heart pumps wildly. “Of course not.”

Amanda shrugs, smoothing down her long skirt. “Hey, my boyfriend of two years wouldn’t even open the car door for me. And look what you’re doing for your ‘mate’ for a few packs of Skittles.”

Dan scowls. “Maybe that’s more to do with your choice of boyfriend.”

Amanda fixes him with that laser stare again. There’s a glimmer of perpetual amusement in it, as though she sees something in Dan’s very essence that is laughable. It sets Dan’s teeth on edge.

“You don’t like me,” Amanda surmises, one eyebrow arching.

For a moment, Dan doesn’t know how to respond. If he verbalises his hatred, and all the reasons behind it, Phil will be angry.

“We’re not gonna be best buds, let’s put it that way,” Dan says.

“You don’t think I’m good enough for Phil, is that it?”

Dan rubs his eyes, exhausted by the evening already. He didn’t exactly get a lot of sleep last night. ��Nobody is.”

“Except you?” Amanda smiles at the withering glance he gives in response. “Okay, fine. But Dan,” she sighs, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Phil is still out of sight. “We’re not that different, you know.”

The snort of laughter is so abrupt that it makes Amanda jump a little. “Right, yeah. We’re practically twins. Shall we get a blood test?”

She maintains her calm stare. “Think about it. We’re both from broken homes. Grew up on the wrong side of the tracks with families that don’t give a shit.”

“You, me and millions of other people all share that lovely background,” Dan says.

“Yes, true. But there’s more, isn’t there?” Amanda leans against the car, craning her neck towards the night sky. “We deal with our problems in the same way.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, I know the rumours about you,” she says. “Let’s just say I’m not the only one using my looks to get into places I don’t belong.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? Dan, if I wasn’t pretty and skinny, I’d have no chance. I’d be like you, stuck here with no options. But I saw the opportunity to live a better life and I took it.” Amanda shrugs. Her eyes are hooded, sad. “I know Hardy’s a cheating dirtbag. I’m not blind. But being with him gets me the dolce vita. And yes, it’s superficial and elitist and despicable. Trust me, I hate myself enough for the both of us. But it’s better than the alternative.”

“If you really feel like that, then why are you here?” Dan spits. “Phil can’t take you to glamorous yacht parties or whatever bullshit you do with Jenns.”

Amanda smiles sadly, looking to her shoes. “I know that. I guess I just wanted a taste of this. To know what I’m missing. To know what it would be like if I’d been stronger, said no to Hardy’s advances, not taken the diamonds and the dresses. If I’d found myself a nice, normal boy, even if he had to save for three months and bribe his best friend to show me one fun night.”

“I don’t appreciate people using my friends,” Dan tells her, coldly.

“Oh, and he’s not using me?” Amanda rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t even know me, Dan. We’ve spoken twice before tonight. He tells himself he wants me because I’m pretty, and coveted. Quite clearly, he can’t see five feet in front of his nose to what he really wants.”

Dan frowns. “What are you getting at?”

It doesn’t look likely that Amanda is going to clarify her strange statement, but as it turns out, she doesn’t get the chance. Phil walks over, rubbing the hand sanitizer he’d brought along into his palms. As he approaches them, his expression drops into wariness.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, eyes flicking between Dan and Amanda. “Everything okay?”

“Whatever,” Dan says, then promptly stalks back to the driver’s seat. He brushes past Phil, who shoots him a ‘what’s going on’ look, but Dan ignores him, climbing into the driver’s seat without a word. Five minutes later, after collecting the pizza boxes and blankets from the bonnet of the car, Phil and Amanda get into the back, all smiles and chatter again.

“Next stop school please, driver,” Phil says cheerily. If he thinks Dan is going to find his pretence that Dan’s an actual chauffeur for this awful event cute or charming, he is very much mistaken. “Did you want some pizza, Dan? There’s a few slices left.”

“How considerate,” Dan almost snarls. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He turns the key in the ignition and backs the car out of the lot. It’s fourteen miles to the school from here, and it takes ten of those for Dan’s tight knuckles to un-whiten from where they’re gripped around the wheel.

(Chapter Eight!)

[glitterrhowell]

Trick or Treat, Sweets for My Sweet

Title: Trick or Treat, Sweets for My Sweet

Series: Spooky week 2018

Pairing:  Daniel Howell & AmazingPhil (Phan

Word count: 3k

Warning/Genre: little space/cute/slight angst/ trick or treating/ daddy kink/sweet/fluff

Summary: Daddy Phil takes little Dan trick or treating and the night doesn't turn out as expected.

Red on A03

Read on Wattpad

This is part of a collection of eight stories I have written over the last few months for Autumn/Halloween. I am titling this series spooky week and will continue to update every day up until Halloween day!

A huge thank you to my other half Christy (Fadingcrystalvoid) for being with me since the start of the series listing to me rant and proofreading for me. Also for last minute betaing all these stories for me!

Phil sighed as he thumbed through the hangers that held all the Halloween costumes in the store. It was extremely hard to shop for costumes for Dan as most of the adult costumes were to revealing and not very appealing to a child. Of course, Dan wasn’t a child he was a very much grown man but half the time he had a child's mind.

Phil had learned about Dan’s need for being little very early on in their relationship. It wasn’t something that bothered him, in fact, they both learned pretty quickly that Phil adjusted to the daddy role very easily. And Phil loved being Dan’s daddy as well as his best friend, business partner, and boyfriend.

He sighed as moved on to the next rack of costumes. He hoped that they could find something because tomorrow was Halloween and Dan had been looking forward to trick or treating for months now. And he would feel like absolute shit if they couldn’t find something. Because he was the one who had kept putting off this shopping trip. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to go they had just been really busy recently. They had just returned home from their second tour and they had been working like crazy to get videos out to make up for when they were gone. So they hadn’t had time to much of anything.

“Daddy!” he was shaken from his thoughts at the call from his little.

Dan was currently in the children's section of the store, Phil not having the heart to explain to him that he would never be able to fit in a child’s costume.

“What is it love?” he asked walking over

“I want this one!” he pointed excitedly at pink princess costume. “Look it comes with a crown!”

Phil closed his eyes for a moment only opening them when he spoke to Dan, “I’m sorry love we can’t get that one.”

Tears welled in Dan’s eyes, “Why? You said I could get anyone I want.”

“I know baby and I’m so sorry but it’s just not possible. I don’t think it will fit you. Remember how we have had the discussion about you still have to wear big people clothes sometimes?”

Tears rolling down his face he shook his head.

“Well, this is one of those times.”

Phil wiped away one of Dan’s tears, “I’m sorry love.” he added again.

But instead of calming him down like Phil thought he yanked away and throw himself on to the floor. He was having a full on tantrum now kicking and screaming. This is not how Phil wanted today to go.

“Daniel you stop that this minute!” he said using his daddy voice.

“No! i-its not f-fair I w-want it!” he continued to wail.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching he bent down, “Daniel James Howell if you don’t stop this instance then you won’t be going trick or treating at all!” of course Phil would never really take that away from him but Dan didn’t have to know that. The threat seemed to work because he stopped kicking and went silent other than the occasional sob.

“Excuse me is he alright?” a concerned looking employee asked.

He sighed, “He will be fine he’s just upset because you don’t have a costume in his size.”

“Oh no, poor dear. What is it he is looking for?”

He didn’t really want to tell this stranger his boyfriend was looking for an adult size version of a princess dress, but the concern in her eyes told him that it was ok.

“He really wanted this princess dress,” he said pointing to it.

Her face lights up instantly “Oh hold on I think I might have something in the back. I will be right back.” she sprinted away.

He turned his attention back to Dan who was now sitting quietly on the floor sucking his thumb.

Phil reached into his pocket and retrieved Dan’s dummy. He pulled his thumb out of his mouth and before Dan could protest he shove the dummy in place of his thumb.

“Come on baby let’s get up off this cold hard floor.” he reached under his armpits and lifted him to his feet. Just at that time, the store employee can running back with a pink dress in tow.

“I knew we had something close to that, look it's almost the same!”

Phil had to admit the dress was very similar to the one Dan had been looking at. The bottom skirt was a light shade of pink while the top half was a darker pink. It had pretty white sleeves that all the way down the arms. And to top it all off it had a sparkly bow tied on the back.

“What do you think love?” he asked hesitantly afraid his question may set off another tantrum.

But Dan’s eyes light up and he popped the dummy out of his mouth, “It’s so pretty! Can I have this one daddy please?”

He looked the dress over one last time making sure that it was the correct size before he shook his head. “Of course love if you are sure this is the one you want.”

“Thak thak you daddy!” he squealed with excitement.

Phil chuckled and turned his attention back to the employee. “I can’t thank you enough for this..” he squinted his eyes and looked at her name tag, “Emily. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

She just shook her head, ”Honestly it was no problem I’m just happy I could help you out.” Phil smiled and thanked her one more time before he took the dress.

Before they left the store and when Dan wasn’t paying attention he also grabbed the small costume so he could get the crown from it. It would be a nice surprise for him tomorrow. He paid for everything and they headed home stopping for an ice cream cone on the way.

~~~~~~~~

The next day went by really slow Dan had to be told more than once that it wasn’t time to go trick or treating yet. But finally, by five pm, Phil gave him the go-ahead to start getting ready. And since trick or treating didn't start until six that gave them plenty of time to get ready.

“Daddy, can you help me?” Dan asked as he came dragging his costume out of their bedroom.

“Of course love come here.”

Phil stripped him of his clothes Dan giggling a little when Phil brushed his fingers across his sensitive tummy. He helped him into his costume and if Phil was being honest Dan looked absolutely stunning. His creamy soft skin went really well with the shades of pink and white. And the sparkles really brought out the sparkle in his dark chocolate brown eyes.

“How do I look daddy?” he asked as he spun around giggling.

“You look so adorable. My little princess.”

Dan giggled again as he ran to the lounge.

While Dan was distracted by something in lounge Phil retrieved the crown he had bought yesterday.

He walked into the living room to find Dan on the floor playing with his stuffies.

“Hey love I have a surprise for you.”

Dan looked up from his toy excitedly. The second his eyes landed on the crown Phil was happy he had decided to buy it. His eyes lit up with excitement and pleasure.

“Is that for me daddy!” he asked crawling over to Phil.

He chuckled, ”Of course princess.” he placed the silver crown on top of his head sitting in in the middle of his soft curly waves.

“Aww so pretty. My pretty little princess.”  Phil cooed at him.

Of course, Dan spent the next ten minutes admiring himself in the bathroom mirror adjusting and re adjusting his crown until he was happy. When Phil finally announced it was time to go Dan jumped and squealed with excitement.

So far everything was going well they were about halfway down their street his bag was halfway filled with candy and Dan seemed to be enjoying himself. Several children had stopped to compliment his costume while they earned several glares from the parents but luckily Dan hadn't seemed to notice.

“Daddy I want to go to that one next!” he pointed at a rather scary looking house. It had been defiantly decorated for Halloween it was dark and creepy. In the front yard, the occupants of the house had set up a graveyard and had a fake witch sitting on the porch.

“Ok love. I’ll wait here while you go up.”

Dan stopped and looked at Phil.

“What’s wrong love?”

He looked down at his feet, ”Me scared can you go with me.”

Phil chuckled, “Of course love, let’s go.” he took a hold of Dan’s hand.

That seemed to do it there was once again a smile plastered on his face. Once he reached the door he rang the doorbell.

An older looking woman answered the door with a sweet smile on her face.

“Trick or treat!” Dan yelled holding out his bag.

The women looked at them and a glare quickly replaced the smile that had just been there. “Is this a joke?” she sneered

Phil watches the smile also drop from Dan’s face because she was now glaring at Dan with hatred in her eyes.

Phil stepped in, ”No of course not. Why would this be a joke? He just wants some candy.”

“He's an adult he shouldn’t be trick or treating.” she spat out.

Phil saw Dan’s lips start to quiver. This woman was not going to ruin their night. “Listen can he please just have his candy and then we can be out of here.”

“I’m not giving him anything. Not only his he too old to be trick or treating but he is wearing a dress! A dress!” she screamed pointing her finger in Dan’s face.

Dan was sobbing now tugging at Phil’s sleeve, “Dad-ddy I wan-nna go home.”

Phil glared at the women, “You're a hateful old woman I hope you're happy you just ruined his night.”

The women simply continued to glare as she slammed the door in their faces. Dan now burying his face into Phil was still sobbing.

“Hey love it’s ok, stop crying,” he said trying to soothe him but nothing seemed to help.

Despite Dan being a 6’2 tall man he managed to pick him up and carry him to the end of the sidewalk. He sat him down on the ground and enveloped him in a hug.

“Shh it’s ok, don’t cry.” but he continued to sob and now hiccupping. Phil just held him and let him cry, not really sure what to do.

A few minutes later a small voice behind him asked, “Excuse me sir but are you alright?” he turned around and saw a little girl standing with who he assumed was her mum.

Phil turned to the girl, “He will be alright that lady at that house was really mean to him,” he said pointing his head in the direction of the house.

The girl turned her attention to Dan, “It’s ok she was mean to me too.”

Dan blinked the tears from his eyes, “She was?”

“Yeah, she said I shouldn’t be dressed like this.” She pointed down to her superman costume.

“Why?” Dan asked tears now starting to dry on his face.

“I don’t know, she said this was a boy’s costume and I should be dressed like a girl. But I told her I liked this costume and she yelled at me. She seemed like a very mean and lonely person.”

Phil was impressed this girl seemed knowledgeable beyond her years.

The girls mum who had been quite up until now spoke up, ”She told me I was a bad mother because I allowed her to wear this costume.” she said looking disgusted.

“She told him that he was too old to be trick or treating and that he was a boy and couldn’t wear a dress,” Phil explained to her.

The girl was shocked, “But I love your dress it’s so pretty!”

“Thank you.” Dan murmured to her.

The women shook her head, “It’s horrible how some people act.”

Phil nodded his head in agreement.

“I’m Natalie by the way and this is my daughter Cassie.”

Phil stood up since he had been kneeling on the ground to comfort Dan, “I’m Phil and this is my boyfriend Dan.”

Natalie bent down, “Hi it’s nice to meet you, Dan.”

Dan didn’t take too kindly to strangers so he just gave her a little wave as he buried his head further into Phil.

She stood back up and turned back to Phil, “I know you don’t know us but Cassie and I were just getting ready to go home. We would love if you two would join us for some hot chocolate and cookies?”

Phil thought for a moment he didn’t know them but they did seem like nice people. Before he could answer Dan tugged at his sleeve, “Can we go please daddy?” he whispered.

“Oh yes can he please come over Phil? We can watch Halloween movies with our snacks!” Cassie said with pleading eyes.

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled, “Well I guess I have to say yes now don't I?”

Both Dan and Cassie cheered and started excitedly talking about which movies they wanted to watch.

Natalie shook her head and smiled in amusement as she watched the two of them.

“Come on let’s go,” she said smiling as she took a hold of her daughter's hand.

They all chatted on the way to their flat, and the more they chatted the less worried he becomes that they might end up murdered tonight.

“Well here we are,” she said as she opened to door and motioned for them to step inside. Cassie drug Dan straight to the kitchen to get cookies.

Phil followed behind Natalie and when he entered the kitchen he saw Dan and Cassie excitedly talking over a plate of cookies.

“And see this one’s a vampire I decorated him all by myself. “ She proudly exclaimed as she pointed at one of the cookies.

“That is so cool! Daddy look at these cookies!”

Phil chuckled at his excitement as he walked over to take a look.

They got the “kids” settled into the lounge with their cookies and hot chocolate and popped Halloween town into the DVD player since that is the movie they had decided on watching. Natalie turned to Phil, ”Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked smiling at him.

He graciously accepted.

Once the coffee was done they both sat down at the kitchen table.

“So I don’t want to offend anyone but is Dan special? “

Phil cringed at the word but he appreciated her asking instead of assuming. And she had been nothing nice to them all night so he didn’t see any harm in explaining.

“Dan is just like you and me most of the time other than when he is in his headspace. Dan is what you would call a little. He will retreat into a headspace when he is stressed or even when he is happy and that is when he is a little. He has a mindset of a child not always the same age but usually between four and seven. And I am his caregiver or as you probably heard him call me earlier daddy.”

She nodded her head encouraging him to continue. “I mean that’s pretty much it lots of people think it’s weird which is why I appreciate you and Cassie being so nice to him tonight.”

“Oh, it was no problem, Phil. I teach Cassie to love and accept everyone no matter what. When she saw Dan crying tonight she said to me, Mummy why is that man crying? I don’t want him to be sad let's go make him happy.”

A tear escaped his eye.

“I’m so proud of my little girl it warms my heart to know I have been raising her right.” She reached across the table and took a hold of Phil’s hand. “You and Dan are welcome here anytime you want. You both seem like really nice people and Cassie has seemed to have taken quite a liking to Dan.”

He wiped the tears from his eyes, “Thank you so much, Natalie. It’s hard to find people to hang out with because of this sometimes and it’s nice to know there are people out there like you and your daughter.”

They continued to chat about their life and various things for the next hour until Natalie stood up, “It’s pretty quiet in there and I think I here the credits rolling.”

The walked into the living room and found Cassie curled up on one end of the sofa sleeping and Dan on the other.

Phil smiled, “Well I guys I better wake him up and get home.”

When Dan was little and tired he was a bit of a handful but luckily tonight he wasn’t much trouble. They said goodbye to Natalie who made sure to bend down and give Dan a big hug before they left. Making sure to tell him he was welcome to come back anytime he wanted.

It was a quiet ride home in the cab Dan drifting in and out of sleep on Phil’s shoulder. When they got home Phil helped Dan out of his costume and into his PJ’s. As he was crawling in bed next to him Dan turned around to face him.

“I had a lot of fun tonight daddy,” he whispered.

Phil pulled him closer and kissed his head, “I’m glad baby.”

Dan sighed and snuggled his head into Phil’s chest. They both drifted off to sleep with smiles on their faces. Dan because despite the turn the night had taken he made a new friend and had fun and Phil because Dan was happy.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt24

Word Count: 1897 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

It was probably stupid to go home, not knowing if Garrett was going to want me back. I couldn’t see him needing me, but he was crazy enough to want to kill me, and it gave me pause. But I wanted clean clothes, and a shower, and something to eat. I wanted the comfort of my own home. I wanted to hold my passport in my hand, and know that if the world stayed completely upside down, I could escape home, into the forests of northern BC, and not worry about anyone coming after me. Of course, once again, I had no way into my apartment. Fortunately, once again, my super was a champ about letting me in. This time, however, he had more to say about my job.

“Did you even know, Annie? Sometimes the grunts don’t know,” he muttered.

“I had no idea, Bob.” It was true. I still didn’t have the details, but I’d known there was a HYDRA infiltration. But we’d never had the chance to figure out how deeply it went. Cecelia Banks was a genius.

“The grunts never know.” He patted me on the shoulder and pushed my door open.

“Thanks, Bob.”

“What are you going to do now?” He asked.

“Good question. I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You let me know if you need anything, sweetie. You’re a good tenant, and good people,” he rested his hand on my arm.

“Thanks, Bob.” I closed my door and went directly to the bathroom. I started running the tub, hot, and full of Epsom salts and bubbles, and poured myself a full tumbler of whiskey. I stripped down and dropped my clothes in the hamper before padding back to the tub, glass in hand. I slipped under the bubbles and sighed. I wasn’t able to let go of everything, but I released a fair amount of tension just letting the heat soak into me. I leaned my head against the tub surround and closed my eyes.

I must have nodded off. I heard a knock on my door, and realized my water had gone cold. I slipped out of the tub and into my bathrobe. I crept to the door as quietly as I could and peered out the peephole. There was no one there, at least, no one I could see. There was no way I was opening the door. I stepped away and went to get dressed.

I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and flopped down to turn on CNN. I wanted to know what all was going on. I kept the volume low, and heard a knock on my door again. This time I ignored it. I heard the door unlatch and open and dropped to the floor in front of my couch.

“Annie, it’s Bob. I have something for you,” he called. I crawled around the living room and came up behind my cracked open door. I peered through the peephole again to make sure he was alone. He was.

“Let me open the door, Bob.” I shut it and unlatched the chain to pull the door open. Bob stepped in, his grey work coat pulled closed. He pulled a gun and holster out and handed it to me.

“This is my service revolver, honey. I’ve been glued to the TV since that first flying ship came down. You need it more than I do.” He dug in his pockets and pulled out a couple of box of bullets.

“Bob, I can’t –“

“Way I see it, kiddo, you have to. You’re not the kind of girl to not be some kind of important. And if you aren’t with the terrorists, it means they’ll be looking for you. My money says you probably have some secrets tucked in your brain that someone would kill to keep quiet. Take the gun. You’re from the Midwest somewhere, right?” He interrupted.

“I’m from western Canada –“

“I’m pretty sure I have your mom’s address in St. Louis on your lease. I’ll forward anything important to you there,” he cut me off again with a wink. “You should really think about going home for a visit until this blows over.”

He shuffled back out the door and disappeared down the hallway. I felt sick. He’d worked for one of the agencies for years, and if he thought I should run, he was probably right. I went to start packing. I pulled out my backpack and carefully picked the stitching out of the big maple leaf badge. I only packed a couple of days worth of clothes, as I had lost my purse in the safe house somewhere, so had only the cash that was stuffed in the mason jar in the back of my baking cupboard to get me anywhere. And considering I’d already raided it once recently, there wasn’t much left. I changed into the same cargo pants and sweatshirt I’d worn the last time I’d be ‘on the run’, hoping for similar luck. It was a moment of weakness, but I really wanted Phil to sweep in and save the day. I wasn’t usually a Disney princess, but this time I really wanted to be rescued.

I grabbed a few things that I couldn’t live without, just in case I wouldn’t be coming back, and tucked them away in an inner pocket in my bag. I slipped my laptop into the padded back panel and zipped it closed. I took a final look around my apartment, mentally saying goodbye to my books. Everything else was replaceable, but the books would be a loss if I couldn’t return. I opened my desk to dig around for my passport, and couldn’t find it. I opened the next drawer and moved the papers in it around, but it wasn’t there either. I double checked the first drawer again and checked my night table. No passport. I knew it hadn’t been in my purse, I’d only used to it to replace the ID that had gone up in the first attack on the Triskelion, and clearly remembered putting it back in my desk. I pulled every single item out of both drawers, but my passport was gone. The small envelope that I kept my Canadian ID in was also missing. Someone was trying to trap me in the USA.

My heart started racing again. I had about forty bucks in cash and no identification. It was going to make a border crossing difficult. I could hear voices in the hall, and what sounded like the crackle of a radio. It stopped right outside my door. I slid everything back into my desk and peered out the peephole. A couple of guys carrying guns in black tactical gear were gesturing to one another. I backed away from the door and headed to the kitchen window. I looked out, but didn’t see anyone watching the window. Whoever they were, like Garrett, they were underestimating me. I slid my window open and hopped onto the fire escape. I climbed down to the alley and walked away from my building as calmly as I could. When I was sure I was clear, I sped up and didn’t look back until I was on the metro on the way toward the bus station.

It was dark in New York City when I got off the bus. I’d bought the ticket for the busiest place I could think of, where I had the best chance of blending into the crowd. It wasn’t until I was halfway there that I thought that I might be able to track down Tony Stark at the Avengers Tower.

I walked into the lobby of the building and approached the security desk.

“Can I help you?” The security guard was old, and his shoulders stooped forward a little. His silver hair was brushed straight back, and he had a big bushy mustache that reminded me of my granddad. I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I need to see Mr. Stark.”

“It’s 10:30,” he put me off.

“If I know Tony, that means he should just be cranking the stereo in the lab,” I nodded. If he was here, I thought. The guard raised his eyebrows and looked down at the computer screen. He typed something in.

“He would have left a name if he was expecting anyone. There’s no list for tonight.” He shook his head.

“If you could just call up to him?” I implored.

“If you know Mr. Stark, like you say you do, you know he doesn’t like being bothered when he’s working,” the guard typed something else into the computer.

“I do know that,” I said, “but this is kind of an emergency.”

A tall redhead walked off the elevator towards us, talking on the phone.

“No, I’m telling you, this is a total mess. A building was literally destroyed by a helicarrier with one of our new proprietary engines in it, and I’m going to be doing damage control for days about why you have terrorists using your tech. So no, Tony, I am not coming back upstairs,” she sounded flustered, and the hair, coupled with the conversation, made me realize she was Pepper Potts. I wanted to reach out and grab her, but she looked over and saw me standing there and stopped.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Potts, I told her –“

“Who are you?” She interrupted the security guard. Tony was still on the other end of the phone, I could see the timer on the screen counting up airtime.

“Anna Ellis.” If I said it louder than I needed to, it was because I saw that the call was still live. Potts jerked her head away from the phone and glared at me.

“How do I know you’re Anna Ellis?” She demanded.

“Please, Ms. Potts. I don’t have any ID and I have three dollars and ninety-six cents left. I have nowhere else to go.” I wanted to sit down and cry.

“But how do I know you’re who you say you are?” She put the phone down on the counter between us and hit the speaker button. Tony didn’t say a word.

“Tony brought a bunch of art into my office a few weeks ago,” I started.

“Too easy.” They said it in unison.

“The Starry Night was fake, but the Sunflowers were real. The hideous art deco Iron Man print was the real focal point of the room though,” I continued. Potts shook her head, still not convinced.

“He added pages to my Thor scrapbook that wound up having some sort of computer chip embed in them that allowed him to hack the SHIELD servers and discover Agent Coulson was still alive,” I concluded. I had nothing else. Potts went pale.

“Phil Coulson?” She shrieked, “Tony, Phil is alive and you didn’t tell me?” If she’d been able to beat him through the phone, I think she would have. The elevator doors opened and Tony stepped out, then stepped back in. Potts spun around and stalked toward the mirrored doors, practically glowing red with rage.

“Pepper –“

“Oh no you –“

“Pepper, Annie needs me alive if I’m going to help her.” He cut her off and darted around her, pocketing the phone. I was so relieved on seeing him that I slumped down against the security desk and started to cry.

[daresplaining]

Iron Fist Countdown: 4 Days

K’un-Lun, the Immortal Weapons, and the Capital Cities of Heaven

    Heart of the dragon! With only a few short days left before the show, we’re doing a deep dive into the details of the Iron Fist mythos and the eternal city of K’un-Lun! 

K’un-Lun, the Shining City

    Occasionally, early Iron Fist comics will refer to K’un-Lun as a city hidden deep in the Himalayas-- but that doesn’t come close to describing its remoteness. Technically, it only exists in the same physical space as the Himalayas for a single day, once every ten years. The rest of the time, K’un-Lun is located in an alternate dimension, on an alien planet called H’ylthri. Not much is known about the actual rest of the planet (the citizens of K’un-Lun don’t tend to venture far from the city), but we do know that it is inhabited by a race of maneating sentient plants, also called H’ylthri, and that the valley surrounding the city is infested with extremely aggressive, possibly crazed wolves. 

[Power Man and Iron Fist vol. 1 #75 by Mary Jo Duffy, Kerry Gammill, and Christie Scheele]

    The ten years rule is really more of a guideline than anything, and since practically the moment it was introduced, writers have been scrambling to find ways around it. The city is only accessible in the normal way once every ten years, yes-- but any number of portals and magical forms of travel can get you there. Lei Kung the Thunderer (who we’ll talk about in a moment) once ripped through the fabric of spacetime(!) to make a temporary entrance into the city. Inventor Phineas Randall, the father of former Iron Fist Orson Randall, built a steampunk-style gateway that allowed for passage between the worlds. And Danny once linked the city to his heartbeat to pull it onto the earthly plane permanently-- which worked out about as well as you might expect. 

[Iron Fist/Wolverine #1 by Jay Faerber and Jamal Igle]

    Referred to as paradise by its inhabitants (and the “City of the Damned” by the H’ylthri, who are kind of bitter about its presence on their planet), K’un-Lun is an ancient civilization, laced in magic and long-held traditions. The people who live there are functionally immortal-- that is, they can be killed in combat, but will otherwise live forever. Those not born in the city can be gifted with immortality, if they are deemed worthy of it, and those who break serious enough laws can have their immortality revoked. 

[Iron Fist vol. 4 #4 by James Mullaney, Kevin Lau, and Omar Dogan]

    K’un-Lun is ruled by a hereditary monarch called the August Personage in Jade (or Yu-Ti, if you’re nasty). He is advised by a council of Dragon Kings, who occasionally turn into actual dragons. While functionally immortal like the rest of the citizenry, there is a reasonably regular turnover of the line of succession, because kings always have short lifespans-- particularly in militaristic societies like K’un-Lun’s. Nu-An, the most recent long-serving Yu-Ti, is a particularly bad egg, engaging in everything from corrupt business dealings on Earth to alliances with malevolent gods. He also indirectly killed Wendell (his adopted brother) and Heather Rand, so Danny isn’t a huge fan. 

    The city faces many threats-- from the H’ylthri (who can get pretty violent, for plants), from the other Capital Cities (we’ll get to those in a minute), from internal unrest, and even occasionally from Earth-based forces. The responsibility of maintaining K’un-Lun’s national security falls partly on the city’s war-master, the Thunderer. This position has been held for the past few hundred years by a super cool guy named Lei Kung. 

[Immortal Iron Fist #8 by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction, and Roy Allan Martinez]

    Lei Kung is a fascinating character, and someone who we’re hoping will get his live action due in the Netflix show. He is often the voice of reason in the midst of K’un-Lun’s internal conflicts. He is respectful of tradition, yet able to see when and where laws need to be broken for the betterment of the city. And he is a strict-yet-caring teacher, responsible for training all of the young fighters in both physical combat and moral fortitude. Plus, as those for whom he has played father figure over the years would probably attest, he has a soft spot for misfits. (He’s not a great father to his biological son, but that’s another story...)  

[Iron Fist: The Living Weapon #3 by Kaare Andrews]

    When we talk about formal martial arts training in K’un-Lun, of course, we’re talking about men. The city upholds a strict occupational gender divide: Boys are trained in the martial arts, women are taught academics, and the two life paths are kept rigidly separate. (So yes, for anyone who may have been wondering-- Danny probably still has a fourth grade education level when he returns to Earth). Teaching a woman martial arts results in very serious punishment for everyone involved, and hitting a woman can get a man kicked out of the city.       

[Marvel Premiere #24 by Chris Claremont, Pat Broderick, and Phil Rache]

    For this reason, Danny is initially thrown off-balance by the fact that the first two friends he makes upon returning to New York, Colleen Wing and Misty Knight, both kick serious butt-- in public!-- on a daily basis.    

    However, this is one rule that has been undermined for probably centuries. There is a long history of women illegally learning martial arts, and most of the K’un-Lun women who show up in the comics know how to fight. This recently became an organized movement, with Lei Kung helping to train an entire army of women in secret. 

[Immortal Iron Fist #14 by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction, and Tonci Zonjic] 

    K’un-Lun is currently in a bit of a mess, but it’s very likely that when it is restored to its former glory, this rule is one that will be consigned to the garbage heap of history.

    No word on whether men will get to study academics, though.   

K’un-Lun Slang

    Listen. If they can make “Sweet Christmas” work in the context of the MCU, they can give us some of this hip K’un-Lun slang too, right? 

The Iron Fist Legacy and the Ch’i-Lin

Bei Ming-Tian: “I am the Iron Fist. I stand before the unstoppable hordes... and I hold them back. That’s what I do. What I’ve always done.”

[Immortal Iron Fist #1 by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction, and Travel Foreman]

    The rest of the responsibility for defending K’un-Lun falls, of course, on the Immortal Iron Fist. Sixty-six of these dragon-powered warriors have protected the city over the span of nearly a thousand years, and more will continue to do so far, far into the future. The Iron Fist legacy began partly by chance, born out of a period of great darkness in K’un-Lun’s history. According to the most recent version of continuity, a creature called Changming summoned a horde of monsters to terrorize the city. One of them was a dragon with the snappy name of Shou-Lao the Undying. 

Immortal Iron Fist #23 by Duane Swierczynski, Tonci Zonjic, et al.] 

    Shou-Lao found a home in a cave just outside the city and settled in for a long stay. It was thought to be unkillable (note the “Undying” epithet) because its heart was outside of its body, hidden deep inside the cave. To kill the dragon you had to get to the heart-- and obviously, Shou-Lao felt pretty strongly about not letting that happen. The dragon continued to terrorize the citizens of K’un-Lun, until a young man named either Bei Ming-Tian or Quan Yaozu (depending on which writer you ask) had an idea. He ventured out to the cave and fought the dragon. When the opportunity presented itself, he grabbed Shou-Lao around the middle and used his body to block the hole in the dragon’s chest through which its heart had been removed. This cut off the flow of chi between Shou-Lao and the heart, causing the body to die. Having survived this, the young man went over to Shou-Lao’s still-beating heart and plunged his hands into it (because why not?), absorbing the dragon’s chi and becoming the very first Iron Fist. And that’s how it’s been done ever since.   

[Immortal Iron Fist #7 by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction, Leandro Fernandez, et al.]    

    Thus began a sustainable source of magical warriors for the city-- because Shou-Lao always comes back. A certain period of time after dying, an egg appears in the cave, which eventually hatches and grows into another Shou-Lao, ready to be killed by another future Iron Fist. While the procedure for winning the dragon chi has remained the same since the beginning, a certain amount of ritual has been added since. Having acquired the chi of Shou-Lao, Iron Fists are now forced to test their new powers in the Challenge of the Many and the One, in front of the entire population of K’un-Lun.        

[Iron Fist: The Living Weapon #5 by Kaare Andrews]

    During the periods of time between the death of one Iron Fist and the rise of another, the graduating classes from Lei Kung’s school will annually fight to win the right to face the reborn dragon. It’s not an easy feat, and most of those who try to kill Shou-Lao end up dead, so there can be long periods between one Iron Fist and the next. When there is an Iron Fist, anyone else who thinks they have what it takes can, seemingly, challenge the current champion to a formal duel and try to take their chi. 

[Iron Fist vol. 2 #2 by James Felder, Robert Brown, and Mike Thomas]    

    But as it stands, most Iron Fists don’t last long. As warriors and adventurers, they lead dangerous lives anyway, and nearly all them have died at the age of thirty-three at the hands of a creature called the Ch’i-Lin. 

[Immortal Iron Fist #18 by Duane Swierczynski, Russ Heath, and Matt Milla]   

    This creature eats Shou-Lao’s eggs-- and to do so, it hunts down Iron Fists by tracking their chi. It travels around in a human host who uses the name Zhou Cheng (remember that name.) This chi awareness makes the Ch’i-Lin almost impossible to fight. It can predict any move that the Iron Fist it is hunting might make, and the chi of Shou-Lao has no effect on it. Having beaten the Iron Fist into submission, the Ch’i-Lin will rip out their heart and use it as a gateway to K’un-Lun. Once there, the K’un-Lun army will try and prevent it from getting to Shou-Lao’s egg. If the egg is eaten, the city will lose its chance of having any future Iron Fists-- so this is kind of a big deal. Only two Iron Fists have managed to survive their encounters with the Ch’i-Lin: Orson Randall, who drugged himself up on opium to the degree that the creature could no longer detect his chi; and Danny Rand, who had the advantage of teaming up with the other Immortal Weapons.     

The Immortal Weapons 

    K’un-Lun is not alone in the cosmology of magical, dimension-shifting cities. It is part of a collective referred to as the Capital Cities of Heaven. Officially, there are seven cities, each cycling through spacetime at a different rate, and all intersecting with Earth at various points. Each city has its own champion, with their own chi-based powers, who operates along the same lines as the Iron Fist. These superpowered badasses are collectively known as the Immortal Weapons:       

[Immortal Iron Fist #8 by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction, David Aja, and Matt Hollingsworth]

    The traditions surrounding each of these champions vary, as do their powers and methods of acquiring them. As Weapons, they are intended to be “wielded” to best serve their city’s interests. All interactions between Weapons can thus be seen as diplomatic in nature. The capital cities maintain a delicate power balance, and past aggressions between Weapons have been enough to create long-held animosity between their corresponding homelands. One of the most important job requirements for the Immortal Weapons is to battle each other every 88 years, during the rare period when all seven cities intersect. The outcome of this pan-dimensional tournament determines the celestial cycling for the next 88 years, and how frequently each city will have access to Earth. 

[Immortal Iron Fist #9 by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction, David Aja, and Matt Hollingsworth]

    Because as far as the Iron Fist mythos is concerned, when you get past the complex worldbuilding and endless minutiae, it all comes down to cool kung fu fights. And we wouldn’t want it any other way. 

    We are extremely eager (and just a little bit nervous) to see how all of this will be adapted into the relatively grounded world of the Netflix shows. We really hope they go all out with it. After all, this is Iron Fist. They knew what they were getting into when they picked the character. 

    Certain minor details in the trailers have suggested to us that K’un-Lun may exist in an alternate dimension in the MCU. We really hope this is the case, because that’s a detail they could have easily not used. If so, they may at least have changed the interval at which it intersects with Earth from ten years to fifteen, since that’s how long Danny is gone in this universe. Unless it takes him five years to find his way back to New York-- which isn’t out of the question. 

    There have been only a few suggestions of what form K’un-Lun will take in the show. While ideally, we’d love to see the ancient, complex, drama-filled city of immortals fully explored in live action, it seems likely that it will be downsized for the sake of storytelling convenience. Since so much of this season will be taking place in New York (as it should-- this is Danny’s origin story, after all) it probably won’t have the time to delve deeply into all of the details of K’un-Lun, or to develop it on the scale at which it exists in the comics. The biggest piece of information we have so far on the subject is from the recent Empire Magazine article, in which it is referred to as an “all-male monastery”. We’re not sold on this idea, but of course, we’re going to reserve judgement until we see how it is handled. Danny has also been referred to as a monk in some of the promotional material, which suggests a level of spirituality in his training that is absent in the comics. No one would ever call 616 Danny a monk-- even in DnD terms. He is a warrior all the way. 

    The actual role of the Iron Fist will be pretty much the same: serve and protect K’un-Lun. Since the Hand have been tied into all of this in this universe, the Iron Fist’s tasks will also include directly battling them. We know that-- like in the comics-- MCU Danny will have to juggle his duties and identity as the Iron Fist with his responsibilities on Earth, which will be a lot of fun to watch. Furthermore, we know that the Ch’i-Lin (or at least, Zhou Cheng) will be making an appearance-- but it’s anyone’s guess what form he might take. 

    We also know that the concept of the Immortal Weapons is alive and well in the MCU. Apart from Danny, the only other Weapon that’s definitely been confirmed so far is Bride of Nine Spiders.  

    But if there are two, there have got to be more, right?

    Only four more days (well... three days and a few hours) until we find out!

[footyplusau]

The Greater Western Sydney Giants should embrace all the hatred

This comes to you from the town of Broken Hill, or, as the NRL’s and AFL’s duelling colonisers know it, Greater Greater Western Sydney (GGWS).

Like all of Sydney west of Anzac Parade, GGWS is a battleground between the football codes. The AFL has recently discovered it, while the NRL neglects and forgets it until it remembers to remember it.

Play Video Don’t Play

Port Adelaide thump Carlton

Play Video Don’t Play

Previous slide Next slide

AFL plays of round 4

AFL plays of round 4

Good Friday footy was great, Nat Fyfe is captain courageous, Hopper pops through a ripper, Eddie kicks six including the usual bit of genius and Riewoldt is sublime as Tiges remain unbeaten.

Port Adelaide thump Carlton

Play Video Don’t Play

Port Adelaide thump Carlton

Port Adelaide thump Carlton

Port have thumped a hapless Carlton in Adelaide, 20.17.137 to 6.11.47.

Giants bracing for tough Swans battle

Play Video Don’t Play

Giants bracing for tough Swans battle

Giants bracing for tough Swans battle

The high-flying Giants have their best chance to record a first win at the SCG against the struggling Swans.

Bulldog stalwart Bob Murphy’s 300th

Play Video Don’t Play

Bulldog stalwart Bob Murphy’s 300th

Bulldog stalwart Bob Murphy’s 300th

Western Bulldogs veteran Robert Murphy reflects on his upcoming 300th game this weekend.

FootyFix: Can the Tiges keep it up?

Play Video Don’t Play

FootyFix: Can the Tiges keep it up?

FootyFix: Can the Tiges keep it up?

Rohan Connolly previews all the footy action ahead of round 5 in the AFL.

Viney: Criticism of players has impact

Play Video Don’t Play

Viney: Criticism of players has impact

Viney: Criticism of players has impact

Richmond and Melbourne captains Trent Cotchin and Jack Viney believe the negative opinion aimed at individual players such as Tyrone Vickery can cause a heavy mental impact.

Gunston: Mitchell will receive plenty of banter

Play Video Don’t Play

Gunston: Mitchell will receive plenty of …

Gunston: Mitchell will receive plenty of banter

Jack Gunston knows if Sam Mitchell is right to play for West Coast his ex-teammates will make sure he remembers where he came from.

AFL plays of round 4

Good Friday footy was great, Nat Fyfe is captain courageous, Hopper pops through a ripper, Eddie kicks six including the usual bit of genius and Riewoldt is sublime as Tiges remain unbeaten.

Phil Gould is, on that point, as right as ever: the Penrith-Parramatta derby should be played twice a year, a bigger showdown than even those legendary Good Friday, Anzac Day and Queen’s Birthday traditions that we would cherish so fondly if we could recall who played in them. “How The West Was Won” ought to be league’s marquee feature. Unfortunately, one of the reasons the Eels-Panthers match is shunted onto Saturday afternoon is that the Nine Network has turned Friday Night Football into a permanent outreach program for the Broncos.

Here in Broken Hill, the battle of the codes was decided long before a Brisbane rugby league team was a twinkle in Porky Morgan’s eye and Rupert Murdoch’s chequebook. Like much of GGWS, Broken Hill has been an Aussie rules town since day dot, for its own historical and geographic reasons. Since its earliest mining days it has been considered a northern suburb of Adelaide, and its current favourite son is the Crows’ captain Tex Walker, who has inherited the mantle of songbird June Bronhill, painter Pro Hart, crooked magistrate Murray Farquhar, comedian Steve “Sandman” Abbott, zinc, lead and silver as the Hill’s greatest export.

On the right track: The GWS Giants are bound for premiership success. Photo: Getty Images

Which is not to say that every kiddie is walking around the slag heap in a number 13 Adelaide guernsey, because, typically of GGWS, it is importation that brings allegiance. People from “Away” (anywhere not Broken Hill) bring their teams with them. So you are as likely to see a Richmond, Essendon or St Kilda guernsey as any other, and if it’s a leaguie stumbling out of the Palace Hotel, it would be no surprise to see him in a North Sydney Bears get-up. Footie jerseys are completely disconnected from location, I realise on Argent Street when I run into Nick, a Broken Hill local, the only man bold enough to wear a Manly Sea Eagles jersey west of Dee Why.

Why? “I f—en hate Manly,” Nick explains. “But I went to a fancy dress party as Fatty Vautin because I look a bit like him, I bought this Manly jersey for the night, and now I have to keep wearing it around because they’re too expensive to wear once. But I really hate Manly.” Who does Nick support? “Cowboys.” Of course. “I used to live in Brisbane. I really hate the Broncos. So I follow the Cowboys.”

For all the random reasons (mostly centred around hate) that people follow teams, what you are least likely to see here is a Sydney Swan or a GWS Giant, both of whom are equally loathed in Broken Hill, because if there’s one thing that unites the folk of GGWS, it is their shared hatred of the S. And this is the rub with the AFL’s crusade to manufacture fandom around certain teams, focused on Saturday night’s derby between the Swans and the Giants. Hatred – the most powerful force in football – takes time to brew.

From the eyrie of corporate headquarters, the AFL has done everything right with these two clubs. Rivers of money, salary cap concessions, strong management and on-field success. But what they are still working on is mobilising everyone else’s hatred.

It helps that the Swans and Giants are both located in Sydney, but as the Swans’ experience shows, hatred is not manufactured overnight. The Swans’ large fan base breaks down into distinct geological strata:

Old South Melbourne Fans. Literally rusted on, and out in force whenever the Swans go back “home” to play in Melbourne. Still wear knitted pure-wool South scarves. Favourite player: Bobby Skilton. More hugged than hated.

Edelsten-era Blow-ins. Drawn by the “Sydney glamour” years of the mid-eighties when the Swans could suddenly afford pink helicopters, Gerard Healy and Greg Williams. Favourite player: Warwick Capper. Mocked but not hated.

Early Nineties Masochists. Can remember details of each of the Swans’ 26 consecutive losses in 1993 and 1994. Boast that only what doesn’t kill you can make you stronger. Favourite player: Troy Luff. Genuinely respected for their chops, not hated at all.

Hatred – the most powerful force in football – takes time to brew.

Rocket-Lockett Revivalists. Mounted the bandwagon when, after the AFL realised something serious had to be done, the Swans were reinflated under the coaching of Rodney Eade, the captaincy of Paul Kelly and the goalkicking prowess of Tony Lockett. Nearly won a grand final. Favourite player: Mickey O. Almost hated.

Glory Years. Under Paul Roos and John Longmire, two premierships were won and the Swans finally earned the national hatred they merited by coming from Sydney. Favourite player: Adam Goodes. Now we’re cooking.

That’s a long history with all the ebbs and flows on which allegiance is built and stories are told, but it’s only in the last 10 years that the rest of the country has felt liberated to really hate the Swans. They were pitied, they were derided, but it took three decades in Sydney before they earned that badge of honour.

Against that, the Giants have everything going for them except the textures of time. Already they have built a narrative around their hapless first few seasons from 2012, but really, when there are clubs such as St Kilda (one premiership in 144 years), Richmond (none since Kevin Bartlett was a superstar), the Bulldogs (one since 1955) and Fremantle (none ever), you can’t out-Cinderella Cinderella.

Notwithstanding the twin handicaps of a mealy mouthed name and an American mascot, the GWS Giants are proceeding along a well-articulated track towards premiership success. In how they have been put together, they have proven the adage that it is better to build on a greenfields site than to remediate an old one.

The one piece that is missing for the Giants is widespread hatred and its corollary, widespread support. On-field success alone won’t build it. Look at the Melbourne Storm: in many ways the perfectly constructed rugby league club, nurtured by strong leadership and a steady stream of success, it still battled to muster an audible quorum at its seventh grand final appearance in 2016, where its most visible supporter was Salim Mehajer.

Passion needs time and space, random stories like Nick’s “How I Became A Fan” to percolate through the furthest reaches of Great, Greater, all the way out to Greatest Western Sydney. It never happens overnight, but already, thanks to the resentment of GWS that even Swans fans feel, there will be plenty of loathing at the SCG on Saturday night. That’s a very good thing.

If the GWS fans feel outnumbered and despised and ridiculed and beleaguered, then they should embrace that, because hatred is one passion that the AFL cannot deliberately manufacture, and hatred is the first step to someone wearing your colours in the Greater Greater West. Even if he’s doing it for fancy dress.

The post The Greater Western Sydney Giants should embrace all the hatred appeared first on Footy Plus.

from Footy Plus http://ift.tt/2oRHi1e via http://footyplus.net