#very very long story short

[thisisadonaldduckblognow]

all the rise boys get done dirty on characterization by fandom in different ways i think. (not ALL the time every fanwork etc etc these are just like, trends i tend to notice?) every fandom suffers from losing character nuance.

- leo i’ve talked about plenty on this blog, how some of his canon traits (genuine belief in his skill and cockiness, capacity for joy, his manipulativeness whether for good or ill) seem to get watered down or wiped off the board and supplemented with generic sad boy. his struggles with purpose and identity and not wanting to fail somehow morph into “he hates and completely holds no value for himself”

- donnie’s canon personality gets blurred out and largely replaced with whatever list of Neurodivergent Traits. and i think there’s such a fine line to walk between exploring a character that’s been word of god confirmed as on the spectrum and overwriting what’s canonically there. it’s a hard needle to thread. it also feels like a lot of his canon emotiveness gets left off the table for some reason. bc he does have his moments of flat/deadpan delivery, but a lot of the time he’s honestly very emotive. he has the passion of a theatre kid and the vindictiveness of... also a theatre kid. and the mind of a scientist.

- raph loses so much of his rowdy teen boy energy it’s kind of wild? like interpretations sand off that he’s also impulsive and can be reckless and dumb and LOVES fighting and roughhousing and isn’t the most eloquent person. suddenly there’s this pitch perfect soft boy big bro who would never hurt a fly and always says the exact right supportive thing and singlehandedly raised his 3 brothers (which simultaneously sands off all the nuance of splinter’s issues emotionally connecting with his sons and how that affected all of them). and like i LOVE raph, he’s so full of love and care and anxiety, he clearly has learned to put a lot of work into being aware of his strength and size. but there’s a difference you know?

- mikey is like. where raph gets overparentified by fanon, mikey gets over “family therapist”-ed IMO. the impulsiveness, the goofiness, the powerful emotions including a VERY powerful temper, the flat-out dumb teen boy choices... they get ignored. suddenly there’s this only very sweet and earnest boy who has read a hundred psychology books and runs group family therapy weekly or something. he is crying in his room bc leo and raph are arguing about something. which is so. he IS very sweet and can be very earnest and is full of love! he HAS come in with his opinions and unsolicited advice a couple of times and life coached for the greater good. but there’s a difference between what he does in canon and the role he gets in fanon.

[blaithnne]

Local big sister experiences emotions, more at 6

Been wanting to do one of these with Lauren for AGES, but I never got round to it. Then I saw the Lydia and Phinium expression sheets on @littledigits’ website and I felt inspiration like never before.

The funniest struggle I have with Lauren’s design right now is that she nose too big for she got damn face. Literally, Hilda characters noses take up a fairly small portion of their faces, and her’s took up WAY too much, leaving little room for her to make facial expressions. But I struggled to find a fix because when I made the nose smaller it just didn’t look like Lauren anymore, so I took this as an opportunity to work on that!

She still has a larger nose than most characters, starting higher up (like her grandad!) and ending lower down (but not quite as low as before). I also made her eyes a little smaller and with a shape similar to Lydia’s (though you can see in some of these I hadn’t quite landed on that yet and her eyes are a bit too big), which works both as a nod to her parentage and because I think it makes the nose look bigger. This still doesn’t leave as much room for the mouth as most other characters, but that’s okay — Lauren is a very private person who keeps her feelings close to her chest, I think it works for her to have subtler expressions, adds to how guarded she is! Oh and I also updated the shape of her hair slightly, just to make it a bit more style accurate.

These changes are pretty small on their own, but I think combined they work well to make Lauren feel a lot more…alive? Far less stiff, anyway. I think she also has a more unique facial structure now, instead of just “what if Johanna was 90% nose”. She’s still got a big old nose and I love it but now she can emote, yay!

This is really all just concept stuff, I’m hoping to get a new fullbody style-ref for Lauren out soon! Now that I’ve improved the main issues I had with her face in the last ref, now it’s onto the silhouette! I want her to read as more of a strong character (though it comes across decently in her current ref, I wanna push it more without being as exaggerated as Ahlberg, which is. A challenge for me lol), streamline her silhouette, and finally make her taller than Johanna like she’s always meant to have been <3 I made her shorter for so long because I thought it would help her read better as her daughter but you know what? That’s dumb actually, she’s tall.

ANYWAYS, thank you for listening in on the annual Lauren redesign, and to the artists behind the show for posting so much amazing inspiring show stopping concept work for free because it makes my autism worse /pos

[heybiji]

he has a library card

[denndrawings]

Poet & King

[shady-tavern]

A Deal of Games

Requested by anonymous, I very much hope this story is what you were hoping for! Small warning ahead for brief, implied murder.

*.*.*

The warning came with an exhausted rider on the back of their sweaty, trembling horse. Bandits were coming over the mountains and not just any rogue group, but an entire, well organized and supplied warband. Armed and armored and trained and two villages were already burning.

"They’re going to be here by tomorrow, they want to challenge the king and queen," the rider rasped, lying in the arms of the local blacksmith. "Run, flee and warn everyone along the way. I just barely made it out alive."

The villagers exchanged fearful, panicked glances and you knew immediately fleeing would be the ruin of many, if not most of the people you knew. Many here were old and while they had rich, fertile land, they had very little coin. Most people you knew could not afford to leave their homes behind.

You could see it in your mind’s eye already, as did the people around you, considering their expressions. All those homes burnt to the ground, warm houses nothing but ash and rubble, cinder for some cruel heart to burn brighter.

Everything around you would be nothing but fuel for the flames of the greed that had driven those bandits to come here and attack everyone.

Already you could see some of the elder folks exchanging grim looks, before peering at their grandchildren, at the worried soon-to-be-parents of their families.

You could see the decisions they came to, silent and heavy, as though they had already kneeled and bared their throats for death’s scythe. Going quietly into the night, holding prayers for the survival of their loved ones in their hearts.

You could see the downright desperate determination of the strong and capable, the young and spry, who did not miss the way their old and sick family members looked.

The way fists balled in helpless anger, teeth grit in bitter fury and eyes grew dark with the fist bloom of heart-rotting, soon-to-be-born hatred. They looked as though they wanted to reach out and grip the strands of fate with all they had and force the weave of the world into submission. 

To take those strands and strangle whatever careless, unfeeling god was responsible for the world being just a little cracked. As if someone powerful had shattered a once loving existence and had used cruelty to glue the edges back together.

There were no fighters in the village, only two hunters who were indeed quite skilled, but they would fall swiftly should they even attempt to stop the bandits. 

Running into the woods and hiding until the warband was gone was not an option either, not with the creatures that lived there. Not with how deeply everyone would have to go to hide, to not be found.

They’d run from one death to straight into another. One that might end up being even crueler in the end.

But…you turned to look towards the mountains at the back of the village, that last, sharp jutting of stone and rock before the mountain range cut off entirely. If you turned the other way you could see smoke rising in the distance, homes already burnt to the ground. 

Where death marched towards your home with steel weapons and muddy boots and hearts that beat like war drums, filling veins and bones with the song of delighted blood thirst and greedy violence.

There was one thing you could do. Attempt to do, even if it was reckless and dangerous and might just cost you everything. But…everything was already lost and you had to try.

You had to try for old Miriam and Jamil, who had taught you the fine art of whittling and woodcraft, helping your hands shape beautiful things out of wood until your art was the envy of many a traveler.

For your elderly parents, your father who had complained about his sore back just this morning and your mother who had sprained her foot chasing the goose out of the house and slipping on a rag. For your friends and their families, who had always welcomed you to warm dinners and laughter around the fireplace.

For the home you loved.

"I’ll go speak with the dragon," you said just as the mayor, a rotund, quick-witted woman who had led the village through many troubling times, was about to speak up.

"We have nothing to offer," the miller cut in, bouncing his toddler on his hip, the little boy looking about ready to bawl at how tense and scared and angry everyone was. "And if you anger him, all of us will be dead before the bandits even arrive."

You knew your neighbor wasn’t wrong, that no one had been able to make a deal with the dragon ever since it had settled down on the mountain. People had tried, but had come back terrified and cowed. So far, as long as no one hunted in the dragon’s territory, he hadn’t shown up to eat your neighbor’s livestock either.

But the dragon was the only creature you could think of to ask for aid. The only one who had shown a clear 'do not bother me and I will not bother you' mentality, whereas the other creatures in the forest had been nothing but tricky and nasty and darkly hungry.

The village had no riches to offer the dragon and it hadn’t been interested in being offered any sacrifices in the past either, neither animal nor human. The dragon wanted nothing the village had, but maybe…maybe you could promise to get the dragon something else. 

You’d abandon your life, leave your parents and friends and neighbors and teachers behind to go on long, arduous journeys, if only it meant they all got to live.

So when everyone hurried to pack, calling out to children still playing in the field, whistling for the shepherd who had watched from a distance without leaving her herd, you slipped away.

It was easy enough to grab the plough horse of your parents, a patient mare named Rika who had let you learn riding on her broad, strong back. Nothing had scared her for as long as she had been on the farm and she was always friendly and steadfast, never so much as stumbling over stones or roots. 

She was the keeper of many of your secrets and had allowed you to cry into her mane after you had gotten your heart broken last year. She sensed your urgency now and watched closely as you got the saddle and bridle, feeding her a quick treat before you tacked her up.

"Son." Your father’s voice made you flinch in surprise and turn sharply on your heels. He stood in the entrance of the stable, frowning in grim worry. "Please, tell me you won’t do something foolish."

"Of course not," you answered. You had never lied much to your parents, they were always so loving and supportive of you that it simply wasn’t necessary, but in return, they never expected you to lie the few times you did. "I was just getting her ready so we can leave. Mama can’t walk after all."

Your father’s face eased in relief and now he just looked tired and scared. "Thank you, my boy. Go and put her in front of the cart, this way we can take a few more things with us. Maybe a neighbor or two too."

Though even as he said it, his gaze slid away guiltily. There would be few things your parents would be able to take along if they didn’t want to weight their mare down too much. Slow her down too much.

She’d get tired faster and even if she was strong and enduring, none of you knew how long you’d have to run, how far you had to flee, before you were safe again.

Your grip tightened on her reins and you nodded and your father turned around to hurry into the house. For a moment you considered staying where you were, putting Rika in front of the cart and helping your parents escape. If you did end up angering the dragon there was no hope for anyone, this way at least most people of the village would hopefully get to live.

But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that just because other people were stronger, had the training and had the willingness to hurt and kill carved into their hearts, that you and your loved ones had to suffer. No, you wanted to help. You wanted everyone to keep the lives they had.

So you got on Rika’s back, took a deep breath and urged her out of the stable into the farm courtyard. She was smart and obedient and your urgency made her move faster than she usually did. You heard your father shout, but by then you were already galloping down the road and towards the forest.

More people shouted behind you, calling you back, asking where you went, if everything was alright. You didn’t stop for any of them and before you knew it, the shadow of the forest fell over you and you urged your horse to go faster. You had to hurry to reach the dragon, the sooner he might be willing to help, the better.

You were covered in sweat, as was Rika, when at last a rocky animal-trail came into view, leading up the mountains towards a cavern high up. The dragon’s home. It was probably terribly rude to just climb up and brazenly enter his den, but you had no idea if the dragon could hear you if you shouted from down here.

So you urged Rika onward and she climbed as swift and steady as she pulled the plough, her strong body hauling you along as though you might be a mere sack of grain and you held on, making sure to do your best to aid her and watch out for any trouble along the way.

She must’ve smelled the dragon as you neared the cave, for she grew restless and hesitant for the first time. You pressed a hand to her neck, steadying and calming her and she snorted before moving on. Trusting you to guide her, trusting your judgement to keep her safe. You hoped that trust wasn’t misplaced.

At long last you reached the entrance and slid out of the saddle, your legs nearly buckling. You hadn’t ridden that long or that hard in months and you were getting tired, but determination and worry and fear ensured you’d keep going for a while longer.

"Wait here," you whispered, throwing her reins over a rock as she caught her breath from the climb. You touched her nose and her ears perked, focusing on you. "Thank you, so much."

With those words you hurried into the cave, the air immediately growing cool as you left the sunlight and you could see marks of the dragon’s presence everywhere. For one, the walls had gotten worn down to look smooth and pretty lines and swirls and strange marks had been carved along the ceiling. The floor was the only rougher part of the cave, shallow claw marks left in the stone.

At the end of the hallway you could see the glow of light, too steady to be fire, but it couldn’t be sunlight either, not with how deep into the rock the dragon’s home was built.

"Who dares," deep, threatening voice rumbled along the hallway, making all your hair stand on end. "Steps too heavy to belong to a thief, too light for a knight and I can hear your breathing as though you were running, little intruder. Leave, this is your last warning."

"Please," your voice came out stronger than you had thought and you drew to your full height, heart pounding in your chest, hard enough to make you feel its beat in your very bones. "All I ask is that you hear me out."

A long beat of heavy silence, then an equally heavy exhale followed, almost a sigh. "Very well. Make it quick, I don’t have all afternoon."

You had no idea what dragons were up to in their free time, but you weren’t going to risk being rude and ask. You hurried forward and before you knew it you entered the dragon’s home properly. It was, in a way, breathtakingly beautiful.

Large, golden stones glowed along the ceiling and walls, looking as though someone had unearthed them with great care and then polished them to shiny perfection. They were set perfectly into place to illuminate everything, the massive, smoothed down cavern walls and domed ceiling decorated with more carvings, these inlaid with gems and shiny gold and silver.

And most of all, they illuminated the dragon himself. Imposing and impressive and frightening as he was, you still couldn’t help but think that he was beautiful. In the same way a silver-steeled dagger with a jeweled hilt was beautiful, the way a storm was mesmerizing in its wild power. 

He was breathtaking in a way you had last felt balancing along the edge of the tallest roof while tipsy, your friends egging you on until you had made a handstand right at the edge, feeling the pull of gravity. That almost-sense of nearly falling but keeping yourself balanced at the last second.

Eyes the color of molten gold were fixed on you and the dragon’s green scales shimmered like layered emerald and jade, veins of gold running through them and reminding you of the way sunlight fell through the canopy and danced along the mossy forest floor.

Gentle heat was emanating from the dragon, turning an otherwise cold cavern into something softly, comfortably warm.

"You are very brave, little one," he rumbled and with a start you remembered why you had come here and what for. The dragon shifted to peer down at you, lips lightly pulled back to reveal sharp teeth, while the tips of his claws lightly scratched across the ground, marking the floor so easily the stone might as well have been made of mud. His tail was lashing behind him in impatience and growing irritation.

"I’m willing to offer anything you want in exchange for your help," you hurried to say, almost stumbling over the words. "Bandits will attack and…and we can’t fight back."

The dragon’s face was unexpectedly expressive, you had to admit, when he exhaled in a near-scoff and leaned back as though the conversation was already over in his mind. "You have nothing of interest you could offer me. Leave."

As he turned, clearly dismissing you, you saw what had been shielded with the bulk of his body. His hoard, but where you had heard stories of massive riches, of enough gold to buy two kingdoms and immortality too if you felt like it, at first all you saw was wood inlaid with polished bits of stone. But, no, that wasn’t just wood, those were board games. Countless ones, ones you were familiar with and many you were not.

They were very carefully placed and clearly not for the dragon to sleep on top of, or everything would have turned to splinters after a single attempt. They weren’t in a pile either, but sorted in a way that actually allowed easy access to each and every one. As though the dragon used them, but as far as you knew, he rarely, if ever, had visitors. To your knowledge, other dragons visited only once every other year and the other monsters in the forest would be more inclined to steal things than sit down a round or two of gameplay. 

"I could be your board game partner." The words slipped out without much mind, a last-ditch effort that you were surprised to find you actually meant. 

You had a couple of board games at home yourself, but people rarely sat down to play with you, if ever. Your friends lacked the patience or the enthusiasm and preferred to visit the tavern and your parents were usually too busy and tired. 

You couldn’t count the amount of times you wished you had had someone to play with, a quiet longing you kept tucked into a lonely corner of your heart. A passion you couldn’t share with anyone but couldn’t give up on either.

The dragon’s head snapped around and his eyes narrowed dangerously and he snarled, "You can take your pity -"

"No one plays with me either," you said, immediately cringing inward when you realized that you had interrupted him. You might not make it down the mountain alive after all. But when the dragon just stared, you found yourself continuing, "My friends don’t have the patience and my parents are too busy most days and, well, playing by myself just…makes me sad."

Your voice had grown soft on the last few words. Sad and lonely. Some days you didn’t even want to look at your games, knowing you’d only get excited about them for no reason. And the following disappointment when everyone told you 'not today, maybe later' when you asked if they wanted to play with you would hit all the harder.

There must’ve been something on your face or in your voice, for the dragon’s tension slowly eased away as he watched you, eyes still narrowed but gaze more contemplative.

"One evening every week," he said and hope crashed into your chest like a thunderstorm, electrifying your veins and stealing your breath away, sweeping you along with a heavy, thrumming relief.

"Make that two," you said, a smile appearing on your face and the dragon threw his head back, laughing in startled surprise. It made the ground rumble and you couldn’t help but feel your smile morph into a grin.

"Deal," he said, easing down a bit to better look at you. He offered a grin of his own, all dagger-sharp teeth and nature-wild danger and the back of his throat faintly glowed with fire. "Where are your bandits?"

You told him and he rumbled, ushering you out of his home and telling you to go back to your village. And if, on the way back, you had to wipe a few tears of relief and gratitude away, there was no one but your patient, steady horse to see it. And she surely wouldn’t tell on you, she’d been keeping all your secrets safe for years after all.

Just as you left the forest to see the entire village in a flurry of panicked packing and tearful arguing, you heard a roar thunder across the sky. Everyone’s heads snapped up, yours included and you saw the dragon rise from his mountain, turning a slow half circle before he seemed to spot something, taking off into the distance.

Your breath shivered out of you in relief and you sagged onto Rika’s neck, briefly pressing your face into her warm mane that smelled like horse and hay.

Your parents were already waiting for you, packed bags and satchels at their feet and they grabbed you as soon as you got out of the saddle, pulling you into tight hugs.

"My brave, impossible boy," your mother whispered, tears in her eyes. "Did the dragon…" At your nod she briefly closed her eyes, relief and worry warring on her face. "What did you offer him?"

"I’ll visit twice a week," you said, gripping their arms reassuringly when worried frowns made their brows furrow. "It’s nothing bad, I promise. It seems I had something to offer after all."

You weren’t going to tell them what, not when it felt like the dragon’s loneliness was a sore spot to him. Not when it touched upon a sore spot of your own, that little corner of lonely sadness when you had no one to truly share your passions with.

Within two hours the dragon returned, roaring once and by evening another rider appeared, sweaty and exhausted but grinning fiercely.

"The bandits are defeated!" they shouted as they rode through the village, only slowing down long enough to deliver the message before moving on to the next place. "The warband is no more!"

The entire village celebrated like never before and you slept like a baby that night.

*.*.*

The first time you showed up at the dragon’s cave, things were a bit stilted and after a game had been chosen, you had almost let the dragon win. Until you remembered how much it sucked to not be taken seriously, to feel like playing games was a chore for the other person. To not be challenged when it was so much fun to not have to hold back.

The dragon was certainly challenge enough for you and with every meeting you noticed him relax more and more. Soon he was talking freely, letting you choose what games you’d like to try and teaching you the ones you had never seen before.

There was no need to bite back your excitement about the games around him, your enthusiasm and your love. If anything, he matched you beat for beat, the two of you getting lost in the shared joy for hours. It grew to the point where Rika had to neighing loudly because she was hungry and wanted to get home to remind you that it was getting late.

"I’ll come by again tomorrow," you said and the dragon blinked in surprise.

"You have already been here twice this week," he reminded you and you couldn’t help but snort.

"As long as I don’t bother you, I’m coming over. I’m having too much fun." Your grin was toothy, your entire being downright lit-up with how much you had enjoyed yourself.

The dragon blinked, head tipping to watch you, then he smiled. "Be welcome, then, whenever you wish."

"You’re going to regret that," you warned him, still grinning and he laughed, a rumbling sound from deep within his chest.

"Oh, I doubt it," he answered and the gold in his eyes seemed to glow brighter. "I highly doubt it."

So you came back the next day and before you knew it, you spent most of your free time with the dragon, your parents sending you off with fond smiles and your friends reminding you to still meet them on the weekend for your usual get-together.

Rika was long since used to the trek up the mountain and she walked swifter and faster with every time, carrying you without complaint.

As summer turned to autumn you realized you had made the most wonderful friend by approaching the dragon. What had started out as a mutually beneficial deal had grown to be so, so much more. You were happy every time you saw him and the dragon understood you on a level that no one else did. 

For as kind as the people in the village were, for as much as your parents loved you and your friends wanted you around, greeting you with grins and waving you over whenever they saw you, the dragon just…got you. 

All the parts of you that had fit kind of awkwardly before, all the little things about you that people had accepted but hadn’t known what to do with, all your secret little hopes and yearnings, everything seemed to have a place here. With him.

You realized you weren’t the only one who felt that way when you arrived at the cavern to see that a makeshift stall for Rika had been built outside, to keep her safe and dry. There was even quite the amount of grass piled up for her to munch on. 

And when you stepped inside you saw piles of pillows and blankets on the ground, decadent enough that they should have belonged to an emperor. There was a keg of water as well, a couple of bottles of wine and mead and a new shelf, holding dried meats and cheese wheels and herbs and bread and beside it stood sacks with vegetables and fruits.

"From my sister," the dragon said, rumbling at you in welcome. "She’s happy I found someone like you and when she visited last night she insisted on making you more comfortable."

If his sister had shown up after sundown it explained why no one in the village had noticed another dragon’s presence. She must have left while it had been dark as well and it made you wonder if the dragon had more visitors than expected if most of them visited at night.

"Thank you, that’s very sweet," you said and the dragon grinned, head perking in a pleased manner. "And thank you for caring for my horse as well."

"Of course," the dragon said like it was common sense. "I care about the things you care about."

He told you stories that day while you played. About growing up among his egg siblings and playful parents who had taught them all to defend what was theirs no matter what. Fierce and unapologetic.

He told you about his travels until he had found the perfect spot to settle down in, how his parents had been the ones to gift him his first game when he had shown little interest in the other riches they presented him with.

"It’s customary to help the hatchlings start their own hoard," he explained when you asked, curious about customs among dragons. "How to collect and care for it and develop a fine eye for what is worth keeping."

The way he looked at you when he said that made a giddy warmth rise within your chest. You smiled back at him and found yourself telling stories of your own. Before you knew it, you told the dragon everything, even the things you had only ever told Rika in the past.

He never judged you for anything and laughed at your jokes and always asked how you were doing, what your day had been like. He was so very genuinely interested in you and your life and the things you loved.

And as autumn became winter and the trek up the mountain took longer, he coiled around you to warm you back up every time. You leaned against his scales, swaddled in thick blankets and sitting atop your soft pillows and as you soaked up his heat, you realized that you had fallen in love.

You played together, forgetting the time and when you heard Rika grow restless, thick snowfall had begun to cover the mountain. It was too dangerous to ride back in that weather and it was getting dark too quickly.

"Stay the night," the dragon offered and showed you a spot where you could put Rika, so she’d be dry and warm and comfortable. You handed her an arm full of apples and some of the oats kept in a sack and she nudged your arm before eating.

The dragon seemed excited to have you over, nudging at the pillows and blankets over and over until he seemed satisfied and curled up around them. You had to laugh and sat down with him after grabbing yourself dinner and something to drink.

You talked for hours, until your eyes started to grow heavy and you couldn’t stop yawning.

"Sleep well," the dragon rumbled quietly, curling more around you until you were surrounded by heat and comfort. "I will guard your rest and your dreams."

He was so very, very sweet.

The next morning, while the dragon left to hunt, you put away the board game from last night and that was when you noticed something that had been carefully put away. A broken game. The top of the wooden casing was splintered and a number of the figurines and pieces used for playing were cracked apart inside.

It was such a beautiful game too, the wood painted carefully and the playing board was even inlaid with shining metals and polished marble and some of the game elements were carved out of horn and bone. You would have paid a fortune had you tried to buy that from a trader.

You heard the dragon return and straightened with the broken game in your hands just as he entered, carrying the satisfied air of a successful hunt.

"What happened to this one?" you asked and for the first time, you saw true sadness on his face.

"It was one of my first gifts," he said quietly. "From my grandparents, shortly before they were slain by knights. I was…rather upset. I accidentally destroyed it and I’ve been unable to let go of it."

"It’s beautiful," you said and he hummed, a low, subdued rumble. 

"Despite being broken it’s one of my most precious pieces," he added, gently nudging your shoulder. "Come on, put it back and get yourself something to eat, the weather has cleared enough for you to head home."

You set the game down with utmost care and the somber mood was soon replaced with chatter as the dragon asked you about your plans for the day. As you got read to leave, he briefly pressed his forehead to yours.

"Safe travels," he said quietly. "I will await your return."

You reached out to hug him and left with Rika soon after, arriving just in time to get ready for work. But even as the days passed you couldn’t bring yourself to forget about the broken game so loved your dragon couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. You ended up spending the night more often, especially when the weather grew bad or it was too late and you didn’t want to ride home in the dark.

Your parents just laughed and told you to introduce the dragon to them one day if he was growing to be so important to you. Considering the knowing looks they sent you, they had absolutely caught on to your feelings. You waved them off, though you couldn’t help but smile a little, feeling quietly happy and pleased.

And then the winter solstice came around and with it a festival to celebrate the end of long, dark nights. The point where winter would turn towards spring and even if it would snow for some time yet, you knew the weather would grow warm again before long.

It was your woodworking teachers who gave you the idea for a gift for the dragon and you hid your sketchbook in your coat when you visited and stayed the night. You waited until the dragon had fallen asleep before very carefully climbing out of the nest of pillows and blankets and over his tail, tiptoeing over to his hoard.

You sketched and measured everything, handling the broken game with utmost care and once you were done, you hid the sketchbook in your coat again and cuddled up to your dragon, who rumbled in satisfaction in his sleep. So very sweet indeed.

It thankfully wasn’t too hard to get all the necessary materials and while old Miriam and Jamil didn’t lend a hand they gave you a few pointers and tips and you spent hours bent over wood and bone, bugging the blacksmith for his help with metalwork. 

And then, on the night of the festival, you celebrated with your friends and family and just after the large fires had been lit, you snuck away, a wrapped parcel in your coat pockets. You had timed things well, arriving just as your dragon had left to hunt.

You pulled out the parcel and the broken game and carefully removed the broken top, replacing it with the one you had made. Afterwards you carefully took out the broken pieces and inserted the new ones you had made. In the end the game looked hale and whole and only if you looked hard enough could you see a difference between old and new parts.

You didn’t throw the old things away, that wasn’t your place. Instead, you left them on a silk cloth and set up the game in your usual playing spot, waiting for the dragon to return.

It didn’t take long and he called out your name in surprised delight before he even entered his cave, his golden eyes bright.

"I did not expect you today," he said with a warm rumble, only to still, those sharp eyes falling to the game set up in front of you. He was so silent you were unsure if he was even breathing at all.

"I, uh, hope I didn’t overstep?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit unsure. "I just…I can put it back to how it was, don’t worry."

"You did this?" the dragon asked, his voice the quietest you had ever heard it as he slowly stepped forward, green and gold scales shining like a living forest in the glow of his golden stones. "For me?"

You nodded, picking up one of the pieces you had made, holding it out to him. "I know how much this game means to you and I wanted to make you happy."

The dragon eyed the piece in your hand, looking reluctant to reach out and touch it himself. He did at last, carefully turning it over between his claws.

"It looks just like I remember," he said, voice quiet and there was a near purring rumble underlining the words. "It’s beautiful. Who made all this?"

"I did," you answered and his eyes snapped to you, suddenly sharper and brighter and fiercer than ever before. You couldn’t help but smile. "I did tell you I’m a woodworker."

The dragon set the piece down ever so carefully, then leaned close to press his forehead to yours, your arms rising to hug his head as much as possible.

"Please allow me to court you," he said quietly, smelling like the winter winds outside, his heat warming your entire chest as his words made your breath catch. "I’ve been trying hard to hold back how I feel, but after this -"

"Yes," you blurted out, grinning and then laughing, closing your eyes and nuzzling your face against his scales. "Absolutely, yes."

The dragon rumbled, a noise that would have sounded fierce and intimidating hadn’t you known him so well. It was a sound of deep, bottomless joy and he pressed closer, his tail swinging around, the end coiling around your waist.

"Then I will," he said quietly. "I vow to bring you happiness and fulfill as many of your wishes as I possibly can."

You were smiling so much your cheeks hurt and your heart had grown wings of gold and light in your chest, soaring high and strong. "Keep playing games with me," you said quietly. "And hold my heart with care, that’s all I want."

"For all my days," your dragon vowed. "Will you accept mine in return?"

"For all my days," you answered, hugging him fiercer. "For as long as this life lasts."

You had every intention to share as many joys with this dragon, your dragon, as you could. To hold him and be held in return, to love freely and fearlessly and know you and your heart and soul would be held safe and secure. That there was someone who saw you as you were and wanted you exactly like that.

And deep down you knew, this life would be a very long and very happy life indeed.

*.*.*

Yo, want more of my stuff? Want to support my silliness? My nonsense? Please consider checking out my patreon! A new short story gets uploaded every month and every bit helps pay the bills and frees up more time for writing stories for you all =)

[dollya-robinprotector]

Mom says it's my turn to draw FemRobin.

[hyperfixatinator]

DPxDC Headcanon: the title "King of the Infinite Realms" is misleading

Sure, there are indeed an infinite amount of worlds and dimensions across the multiverse. However, the name "Infinite Realms" is actually referring to the space in between said realms. The malleable borders that act as cushions to prevent all these realities from constantly colliding with each other. If you compare the worlds themselves to bones, then the Infinite Realms would be the cartilage preventing friction whenever they move.

So if Danny ever became the king of the Infinite Realms, he wouldn't actually have authority over whatever goes on within said realms. After all, each world has their own set(s) of afterlives and deities already taking care of that. No, Danny would only be in charge of that squishy, ectoplasmic stretch of space that portals need to punch holes through in order to cross over.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

[cookkoo]

Drawtober 2023 day 2: Spider (lily)

Day1

[aalghul]

comics are difficult to get into and the inconsistencies can be annoying/confusing and there is a lot of material to get through if you want to read major characters. but: it’s never so serious that you should let this stuff overwhelm you. just pick stuff up and try to figure out what’s going on. if you have a hard time going through a character’s reading order chronologically, just pick an event and read the issues for that specific story (trade paperbacks will make your life easier here). it’s literally not a commitment, tou can jump around however you like. reading comics isn’t homework, it should be fun

[taffywabbit]

i just woke up so i haven't actually watched the pokemon direct thingy yet, but i heard they mentioned they aren't pushing out another console release at all for 2024 and if that's true then frankly THAT news is way more hype than any actual game announcement could ever be. go girl let us wait!! this is genuinely what i've been begging for for years now

like, oh a new Legends game? that's neat i guess. oh wait it's being given literally ANY time to cook and they aren't crunching Game Freak to hell and back in order to pump out a bunch of half-baked annual releases for the first time in ages?? NOW we're fuckin talking. LOVE to see the torturous cycle broken

[canisalbus]

hey there!! i'm a newcomer here but i have fallen head over heels for your tragic gay dogmen, they've infected me with brainrot, i've been blorbo-inprinted on and reveling in it! i just wanted to let you know how much i've been enjoying scrolling through your blog recently and thank you for being so willing to share oc's that obviously mean a great deal to you with strangers over the internet, it's been greatly appreciated. (i also was wondering if your society6 store is still up and running?)

Why, thank you so much! It means a lot to me to hear my tragic gay dogmen are so cherished! ;_;

[uncanny-tranny]

I decided to go through my old warm-up notebooks from my honours english class and in one of the warm-up prompts, I said I wanted my superpower to be "controlling the effects of [my] puberty," and I'm glad to say that I've gotten that superpower. It took a very long time, but that's a superpower I can check off my list

[phoutube]

vampire-email -> phoutube

happy pride month. new phan url

[shady-tavern]

Perfect Nemesis Part Two

Part One Here.

***

You woke in the hero hospital, feeling like you had gotten run over. Aches and pains seemed to fill your entire body. You peeled your eyes open to see Peony across from you, asleep and bandaged, with some stitches along one temple. He wasn’t wearing his mask and you saw his face for the first time since you met him.

Your brows furrowed briefly as you groped for the button that called the nurse. Was it the first time you saw his face? Your head hurt and felt stuffed with cotton.

The nurse working for the Society appeared a second after you sloppily pressed the button, only for your eyes to fall closed halfway through her explanation of the severe overextension of your abilities and how that had translated to damage on your joints and tissue. How you would have killed yourself had you used more of your powers.

When you woke a second time you were just barely more coherent and it was the middle of the night. A dimmed light across from you let you see that Peony was awake, speaking softly with Endless, who sat in the open window, also without his mask.

They both paused and looked over when you made some kind of low sound. Your mouth felt dust dry and your limbs heavy. Everything hurt, but in a bone-deep bruised way and you instinctively knew right away you’d do some serious damage to yourself should you try to use your powers again anytime soon.

"How are you feeling?" Peony asked hesitantly and cautiously, voice quiet but clearly audible in the silent room. You blinked at him, weakly and sluggishly patting around to call the nurse again. You were barely capable of stringing a single thought together.

It was only when your hand bumped the button that you realized you weren’t wearing your ring. You weren’t wearing it and you felt…fine. You felt like you were whole and very much not cursed.

You blinked at them. "Huh," you croaked and passed out again just as they straightened, attention firmly fixed upon you.

When you woke a third time, your mind clear enough that you could actually cling to consciousness, it was to your mentor sitting in a chair beside you.

"Thank fuck," she said the moment you blinked your eyes open and focused on her. Her relief was strong in her voice and openly visible on her face. "You were out for nearly a week. What did you do, kid?"

"Not a kid," you mumbled, but that only made her smile a little. She’d never drop that stupid nickname. Instead of answering, you made yourself move your heavy arm until you could look down at your hand.

Your mentor sobered immediately and you let her take your hand, looking at the spot where a dinged up iron ring had sat for years. You hadn’t taken it off once, not for training, not for bathing and especially not for your last boyfriend who had hated the damn thing. Not that you had liked it, but you had needed it. It had been vital for so long.

"What happened?" your mentor asked quietly. "Did they manage to break the curse?" You shifted your head slightly to peer past her, only to see Peony’s bed empty. "Ah, your buddy is getting a check-up and then he’ll be released later today." 

Your mentor leaned forward a little, turning serious. With more emphasis she said, "Kid."

You had never once been able to hold back when she used that tone of voice. The story spilled forth just as every other story had back when you had been a sidekick and later a fledgling new hero. But you were safe, here and now. 

Your mentor was one of the safest people you knew, she���d go to bat for you at the drop of a hat. You had grown into the hero you were today under her protection and guidance after all.

She was silent for a long moment after you were done and you found it hard to keep your eyes open. 

"I’ll go talk with Peony," she said, giving your hand a parting pat. "Sleep, kid. You really fucked yourself up this time. It’s going to take a while for you to recover."

You mumbled something that was some kind of vague agreement, your eyes falling closed.

*.*.*

Peony was gone when you woke again and you continued to sleep more than you were awake. Sometimes you had visitors, sometimes not, sometimes you woke to people having left gifts at your bedside table.

The time you fell asleep to your superior berating you for destroying 'six and a half fucking buildings you goddamn unbelievable idiot' you were glad to get out of the harsh reprimand. You hadn’t cared about the damage when you had been without empathy, but that hardly mattered. Not when you had caused nearly five million in property damage.

You were very relieved that no one had died. That the people who had gotten caught in the crossfire had been rescued by Peony and, to everyone’s surprise, Endless.

You hadn’t seen your colleague or the villain who had been so eager to be your nemesis since that night in the hospital. You had no idea what to feel when it came to them, but every time you found yourself thinking about them, you touched the spot where the ring had been.

The curse was gone entirely.

The magical expert the Society sent to examine you confirmed that as well, clapping you on the shoulder and congratulating you on getting rid of that horrible thing. You got questioned extensively, but you found yourself skirting over details, citing that you didn’t remember much. 

Your mentor had spoken with Peony once and had said that he would explain himself when and if you were ready to see him again. She had given you a card with his private phone number on it.

"And that Endless fellow will be there too for the conversation, if you want him to be," she had added. Then she had paused, looking at you. "You made quite the impression on him. He had nothing but praise for you."

You had looked away, shrinking bit into yourself. You had too many questions to not want answers, even if everything was kind of a mess. You had no idea if you still wanted to be Peony’s friend or…whatever Endless and you had had previously. 

But they had gotten rid of your curse, even if things had become a bit ugly after they had taken off the ring. Still, that moment of intense betrayal kept hounding you, your ignored pleas, how you had been tied to the ground, utterly helpless.

You found yourself touching your hand over and over, startled alarm finding you for a split second when you didn’t feel the ring, before you remembered that it wasn’t necessary anymore. It was both the greatest relief of your life and something you still had to wrap your head around.

It took some time to adjust to living without a curse after so many years with one.

When you were released from the hero hospital at last with strict orders to take it easy for another month before you could be allowed back to active duty, you were glad to go back home.

You unpacked the bag your mentor had brought you for your stay in the hospital. She was puttered around your home, opening windows to let in fresh air. Your mentor at last opened your fridge and immediately closed it again.

"I’ll go shopping," she said and left briskly with a little wriggle of her fingers.

You tentatively opened your fridge, only to immediately close it again yourself. Well. Taking a deep breath, you rummaged around beneath your sink to get gloves and cleaning products and you got to work, removing food that had had plenty of time to go and rot and mold.

You were just finished with that very disgusting task when your mentor returned and she shooed you away, grumbling that you had to take it easy.

You did take it easy the rest of the day, barely getting up from the couch. Your mentor made sure you had food and left some meals you just had to heat up in your fridge.

"Call me if you need anything," she said after dinner. "I’ll stay in a nearby hotel for another night before returning to work."

Even then you knew she’d drop everything in a heartbeat if you said you needed her help. You resolved to find a good gift for her, to thank her for all her care and her sometimes no-nonsense encouragement during your recovery.

You hadn’t known that overextending your powers could result in a month of bedrest. Then again, apparently you had badly damaged your body in the process and there had been quite a bit that had needed healing.

Empathyless-you was an asshole in all regards.

As you sat alone on your couch you found yourself fiddling with the card Peony had given your mentor. You wanted answers, but you had no idea if you wanted to see him or Endless again.

Maybe a part of you was afraid of what those answers were. Of finding out that the friendship and flirting and banter and easy companionship had only existed so they could trick you.

But, in the end, you wanted to know why they had tricked you more than you were afraid. Why they hadn’t just told you about their plans to remove the curse. You would have let them. You had no idea how much you still trusted them now, if at all, but you had trusted them that much before they forcibly removed your ring.

You leaned back with a sigh and fiddled with the card a moment longer, before you drew up the sort of courage that let you step into costume on a bad day, that made you face villains that sometimes, secretly, frightened you.

The sort of courage that let you keep your head held high the two times you hadn’t been able to save civilians, carrying their limb bodies.

Peony picked up near immediately, his voice tentatively hopeful. "Imagination?"

"Yeah." You were glad that your voice sounded steady even if your heart was beating faster nervously. "You said you were willing to explain?"

"Over the phone or in person?" he asked, voice going a bit softer in a way that made your throat tighten a little. "Whatever you’re more comfortable with. I’ll make sure to get assigned to another city too if you want. I have the paperwork ready to be submitted."

You closed your eyes for a moment. That was all a bit much at once. "Just…why?" It came out more hurt than you had intended.

Peony was quiet for just a second. "I’ll answer, but it would be best if Endless were here," he suggested, voice going a bit tentative again.

"Aright. Sure. Call me back when he’s there." You ended the call before he could say anything else, rubbing a hand restlessly over your face. Your emotions were kind of messy, but at least you had those feelings. You were rid of your curse and that…that meant so fucking much.

It was in all honesty the only reason you were willing to hear them out.

Peony called back quicker than you had expected and from the slight change in audio quality you could tell that he had put you on speaker.

"Hello," Endless said, voice soft and hesitant in a way you had never heard or expected to hear from the confident villain. "I hope you’re doing well?"

"No smalltalk," you found yourself croaking out, your voice cracking a little despite your best efforts. You grimaced and took a breath before you continued. "Just tell me why."

"Why the deception and trickery and why we used your trust against you?" Endless asked and you swallowed past your dry mouth. "It was the only way to lift the curse."

Thankfully, he continued before you had to ask him to elaborate. "The villain who hurt you once met up with my old mentor, ranting and raving. I overheard a lot that day and in all fairness, I had mostly forgotten that day until I met you." His voice turned a little softer. "It took me a bit to remember that you were the hurt sidekick in that public trial."

"What do you know about the curse?" you found yourself asking, worrying the hem of your sleeve between the fingers of your free hand.

Endless made a low, dark noise. "It’s one of the vilest things I’ve ever encountered and that says a lot. The curse isn’t particularly complex, but it’s removal is. For one, it cannot be removed if you want it removed by the person in front of you. As long as you let someone try to take it away, it would not work."

Which was why none of the Society heroes or independent vigilante with magical abilities had been able to do anything.

"We could not tell you about what we had planned," Peony said quietly, regret thick in his voice. "I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you, but just one mention about it would have made you expect the removal sooner or later. We would have had to wait years to make you actively forget about it for it to work."

"I’m so very sorry as well," Endless said softly. "I wouldn’t have done anything if you hadn’t minded your curse, but it was clear you hated it for both of us. If you never want to see me again, you won’t."

You closed your eyes as the two men fell silent, giving you a moment to work through everything. You ended the call, rubbing your hands over your chin before pressing your face into your palms to just breathe.

Your emotions were all over the place and you had no idea what to think or feel for the longest moment. In the end you texted Peony 'give me some time' and shoved your phone under your couch cushions.

You did not sleep that night, staying awake until the first hint of dawn, staring out across a city you had been protecting for years with Peony at your side. Your friend, your companion, your partner.

And then Endless had shown up. The exciting villain who had shaken your world up in the best of ways for months. Who had made you stop worrying about that damn ring on your finger.

A ring that was no longer needed because of them. You had no idea where that ring was now, but you didn’t want it back either. You never wanted to see the damn thing ever again.

In the end you called your mentor and, as so many other times, laid your troubled heart at her feet.

"That’s a right mess, kid," she said with sympathy and you couldn’t help but snort before, at long last, you found yourself crying. Pent up stress and relief and confusion all poured out in a mess of tears. "There, there, let it all out." And quieter, so you barely heard her, "Maybe I should go rogue and kill that asshole in jail after all."

And then you were laugh-crying and when you calmed down again, you did feel better.

"I’d say let them grovel a while," your mentor said. "If you think you can ever trust them again."

Could you? You wanted to, you realized as you ended the call and sat curled up on your couch, watching as the city came alive the more the sun rose. You wanted to trust them, because…because they made your life better, both of them. Meeting them had brought so much good into your life.

But you couldn’t forget the betrayal and being pinned to the floor. The panic as your ring got stripped away, your pleas ignored. 

You understood why they had done it, considering the nature of the curse. But the mind and the heart were two different beasts and you were in the very fortunate position that neither of them seemed to be able to come to a proper decision.

So you puttered around for a few days, mulling things over until you realized you were just turning in circles. So you called Peony again after staring at your dirty dishes for a long moment, mind far away. He picked up and from the voice in the background that immediately became easily audible when you were put on speaker, Endless was with him.

Despite all the things you wanted to ask and say, somehow the first thing out of your mouth was, "How do you two know each other?" 

Peony huffed softly, "We’re childhood friends, actually. I always knew he was Endless and he always knew I was Peony. I, uh, I was the reason he switched cities in the first place. I had some trouble that he helped me with. Civilian trouble," he added quickly and you felt an unexpected, fresh stab of hurt fade again.

It was Society policy to not share your private lives with each other when you hadn’t been told each others identities. You had always made sure to respect that, never prying and not commenting on slip-ups from Peony or yourself.

"After helping my friend out I didn’t want to go back to Imperia," Endless added. "It was easier to establish myself here than go through the hassle of clearing my old territory from the rabble. And, well, Imperia didn’t have you either."

You had no idea what to say, so you changed the subject. "Why were we in the same hospital room, Peony?"

"You don’t remember? My mask got eaten by the void," he said and it took you a moment to recall, that, oh, yeah, he was right. Your memory was a little blurry, especially with how fast it had all happened. "Along with half my outfit. Any longer in there and I probably would have lost some pieces of me too."

Endless was audibly grimacing when he added, "I tried to negate the damage as much as I could, but the void really, really doesn’t like anything that’s not me."

That didn’t surprise you. Every brush of the void during fights had told you as much, even though you had trusted that Endless wouldn’t use it against you.

"Was my mask still in place?" you asked, because the nurses would not have unmasked you without your permission, no matter if your partner had shown you his face or not. Both men made a low, unhappy sound.

"The glue we used apparently couldn’t withstand the amount of power you put out in order to make that dragon," Peony explained. You blinked in surprise, you hadn’t even noticed that. "Which, by the way, what the fuck? I didn’t know you could do that."

"Neither could I," you admitted after a moment. "Having no empathy meant I didn’t care about you or myself."

Peony’s mirth noticeably fell away. "I can’t tell you how sorry I am. About ambushing you and making you think we betrayed you. We tried to come up with so many different ways to get that ring without you catching on, but you always guarded it like your life depended on it. Which, knowing what we know now, it actually did."

His words gave you pause. "Wait, what?"

"Oh, you didn’t notice?" Peony sounded surprised. "My frie- I mean, I stole your gloves on multiple occasions, but you always had backups. I tried to 'stumble' into you a couple of times if they got damaged in fights too when Endless was nearby to try and yank the ring off. Endless tried to tug them off too."

"I also tried to remove them with my powers, but that was too finicky while we fought," Endless admitted. "I’m not really good at that delicate stuff when it comes to my powers. It takes so much concentration that I usually just get a headache."

You stared at the opposite wall and the framed artwork on the wall, baffled and unsure what to say. All this time you had thought that you had just forgotten your gloves, especially since they always turned back up. You had thought Peony had just been tired or injured whenever he had tripped and you had adjusted to catch him.

"I couldn’t invite you out to drinks either or I would have gotten you wasted enough to let me pull the ring off," Peony added after a moment. "Which would still have been a major asshole move, I know that, believe me. You were always very firm on not telling each other who we were, so that plan would have never worked."

"And I didn’t want to ask you out knowing I was going to do…that," Endless said, voice lowered and laced with a quiet sort of ache. "Doesn’t matter that I have no chances now, I never wanted to taint whatever we had that way."

You struggled with finding your voice for a couple of seconds, Peony and Endless waiting patiently for you to speak again.

"Why didn’t you trick me sooner?" you asked and they were silent for a long moment.

"I like you, you know," Peony said at last, his voice heavy. "As does Endless."

"More than that, really," Endless added so quietly you almost hadn’t heard him. You suspected he actually hadn’t meant to be heard by you at all.

Peony continued, "We care about you and the more we did, the more we hesitated. It became harder to go through with it the longer we waited."

You slumped back against your couch, feeling conflicted all over again. 

"I’m truly so very sorry," Endless said softly. "If you are willing to let me I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"As will I," Peony said firmly. "But if you never want to see us again, one word is enough and we’ll vanish from your life."

"We’d still see each other during seminars and Society meetings," you found yourself pointing out and Peony hesitated in a way that made you frown and sit up. "What?"

"I would leave the Society," Peony said. "I’ve wanted to go independent for a while now, so I plan on going somewhere else to open my own office. Just, uh, just so you know, you’d be welcome as my partner. If you want."

Independent hero offices existed everywhere, they worked together with the Society and the government as well as companies. They could be quite successful if done well and you didn’t doubt that Peony was quite capable. He’d make it work.

Peony hesitantly added, "In all honesty, I think I’ll go independent regardless. I’ve been a bit unhappy with working for the Society for a while now."

The Society wasn’t perfect, that was true, and you could admit that the idea of being your own boss was an unexpectedly interesting and, well, rather tempting. You would have said yes, you realized, before this entire mess with the ring.

A part of you still wanted to say yes.

As you tipped your head back to stare up at the ceiling, you came to a decision. You had no idea if you would regret it, but it felt like you’d regret it more if you just…gave up. Ran away. You shifted your fingers to press your thumb of the same hand against the spot where the ring used to sit.

"No more secrets," you said at last. A high demand in your field of work. Secrecy was a big part of the business, both for villains and heroes.

"Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you," Endless said without an ounce of hesitation.

"Aren’t you scared I’m going to use that against you?" You couldn’t help but ask, pushing just a little, because if he told you everything you wanted to know you could easily sell him out to the Society.

"You are a truly good person," Endless answered, voice firm and once again without a hint of hesitation. "And should you decide to betray me in the end in answer for my transgressions, I will only bow my head and call it fair."

He sounded like he meant it. 

"Why don’t I start," Peony said and you heard the careful hope in his voice, could imagine the little smile that curled in the corner of his mouth. Like a small flower yearning to bloom. "Hello Imagination, you know me as Peony, but my real name is Florent Quill and I visit hospitals and nursery homes in my free time to leave bouquets for the people there."

That was so very Peony. Florent. You turned the name over in your mind and found it fitting.

"And my name is Ashton Bach," Endless answered, a smile audible in his voice. "At your service. I’m not nearly as nice as Flori, but I do enjoy making share holders and PR teams panic over stocks on the weekends. But I think you already knew that. Oh, I have a cat, Powder, she’s very sweet."

You found yourself smiling a little at his description and the way his voice grew fond and warm.

"Also, I’m deathly allergic to peanuts," Ashton added. "And I cry every single time I watch Pride and Prejudice."

"I can attest to that," Florent answered dryly and Ashton barked out a brief laugh, raspy and brightly amused.

You curled up against your couch, hiding a smile against your knees. You were still quite upset, deep down, but something about this conversation eased your heart a little. Took away some of the ache and that unsure uneasiness that you felt around them.

"Anything else you want to know?" Ashton asked.

"Not now," you said and hesitated. "But maybe we can talk again later?"

"Anytime you want," Florent promised. "We’ll be here."

You said your goodbyes and hung up and slumped sideways into the pillows. You felt better and even hesitantly hopeful. You fiddled with your phone and wondered if rebuilding trust was that easy. 

*.*.*

It was not that easy, not at all, but slowly, with every conversation you felt less hurt, less backstabbed, less unsure. You knew that they had only wanted to help, but sometimes you woke up from a nightmare where you got the ring ripped away, frantically searching for it. It always took you a moment to remember that you didn’t need it anymore.

Sometimes you dreamed of tearing them apart and it didn’t matter. Not even in the nightmares where you died too along with them. A lack of empathy meant a lack of…anything, really. Anything that mattered, that made you human and kind and stupid and passionate and lazy and all the things that made up this existence on earth.

You had hard conversations with them and it helped that they never shied away from you when you allowed some of the hurt to bubble to the surface. You still hadn’t seen either of them, but bit by bit you allowed your closed off heart to open up again.

And before you knew it, you were ready to return to active duty.

"Don’t worry, I’m taking time off," Florent had reassured you. "You won’t have to see me until you’re ready."

It felt weird to return to work alone and changed. To no longer need the intently protected gloves and to walk the streets with only some occasional fights against a handful villains who wanted to test their mettle against you.

You used your powers faster than before, imagination leaping to your fingertips, eager and hardier and bigger than before. You created things quicker than ever and every creature was just a tad more dangerous than before.

Florent and Ashton did stay away like they had promised. And as one week turned to two, then three, you noticed their absence more and more. The break room remained empty, no friend and colleague there to greet you with smiles and flowers. No powerful and genuinely fun to fight villain seeking you out and handing over the off-switch for the world for a little while at the same time.

No warm hugs and friendly nudges, no promisingly lowered voices and excited grins, no flower crowns on your head and no murmured words that were promise and flattery all at once. 

You ended up calling your therapist and you had a long, tough session. When you left, your eyes were swollen from crying, but you felt like you could breathe properly for the first time in far too long. Your mind and heart felt blown clear at long last and you knew what you wanted.

"Hey," you said when you called Florent, the call getting picked up nearly immediately. Ashton was present too today, he wasn’t always, but often enough that calling Florent first was just easier. "Let’s meet."

*.*.*

Seeing Florent and Ashton again, entirely out of costume, was a little strange, but you were glad to see their faces. They smiled at you and Ashton’s faintly glowing eyes were soft and hopeful, never once straying from you.

A small flower bouquet laid on the table of the café, all your favorites rolled up in pretty paper.

"Hey," Florent said, the faintest of nervous undertones to his voice. "It’s good to see you."

You sat down across from them and realized that seeing them out of costume helped. You were still rather more nervous than you had expected, but the hurt was only a quiet ache now, no longer the fresh, bleeding stab that it had been previously.

"I still want to say sorry again," Florent admitted with an apologetic smile. You had told him to stop apologizing after the sixth time and you pinned him with a look.

"I heard you," you said. "I just…needed some time."

"You are entitled to that and more," Ashton agreed easily and waved over a waitress. "Order whatever you like, it’s on me."

"On you or the businesses you like to rob?" you couldn’t help but ask and his grin got delighted, his eyes going a bit sharper, a bit more intense like they did when you fought.

For a brief moment you wondered what battling him felt like now with your powers having grown fiercer. You wondered how far you could push, how little you’d have to hold back with Ashton. If you’d have to worry about actually hurting him at all when you fought him or if he’d meet you every step of the way.

Florent just sighed in fond amusement. "Don’t get him started," he said in a conspiratorial tone, though he didn’t bother to lower his voice. "He is quite passionate about that topic."

"They are just so stupid," Ashton said as though he couldn’t help himself. "And quite awful, really. Besides, I don’t touch the businesses that are actually good to their employees, you know."

You did know. You knew more about both Ashton and Florent than ever before now. The waitress arrived and you ordered and she left with a smile and brisk steps.

There was a beat of silence, before Ashton leaned forward and asked, "Have you seen the newest announcement for Janet’s books?"

You couldn’t help but light up, as did Florent and before you knew it, you were deeply in a discussion about your favorite book series. A book series Ashton and Florent were big fans off as well. And now those books were supposed to become a TV show and it was rather exciting.

Your conversation moved naturally without much issue at all, rolling from topic to topic as you ate and drank. You laughed and smiled and before you knew it, Florent excused himself.

"I’ll be meeting up with my mum in ten minutes," he said regretfully. "I’ll see you soon?"

"Yeah." You found yourself smiling up at him, then hesitated and you bumped your shoe lightly against his. "Come back to work, alright?"

His face lit up, relief and something warm and bright making him look as happy as you had ever seen him. "I will. And just so you know, the offer of partnering up still stands if that’s something you can see yourself doing." He glanced at his phone when it pinged and winced. "Shit, she said she arrived early. Please excuse me."

He briefly touched Ashton’s shoulder as he got up, sent you another smile and hurried out of the café.

"Want to go for a walk?" Ashton offered, gesturing at the good, if a bit cold weather outside. "We could talk more privately if you want."

You considered the offer, then nodded. Ashton paid and left a generous tip, before you got up. You made sure to take the flowers along and you soon found yourself walking through the nearby park with your former nemesis. Or maybe still nemesis? You weren’t quite sure what the two of you were now.

"You know, I still want to apologize too," Ashton said, looking ahead, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. "I know it sounds like I’m feeling sorry for myself, but I just can’t forget the way you looked at me."

Your light mood turned serious and you looked ahead yourself, watching some teenagers jostle each other, laughing at whatever one was showing the other on her phone.

"I wish you would have done it sooner," you found yourself saying at last. "Before I got so attached. Maybe then it would have been easier."

He winced. "Yeah, you’re probably right. I just…" He hesitated, then sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. He smiled a little as though he couldn’t help himself and it was the softest smile you had ever seen. "I think you don’t know how amazing it is to fight you. How you light up when you get to cut loose a little or how little you are afraid of my powers. You never were. Most people run away the second they get close to the void."

He huffed a soft noise, amused and so warm it made the slight chill of the early autumn air disappear. "And then I got you to talk to me, to banter with me. You’re so quick on your feet and you are so damn funny." His small smile faded. "But you are right. In my desire to hold on to those moments for just a little bit longer I ended up hurting you worse."

He tipped his head to look at you, those faintly glowing eyes serious. "I’m usually a pretty selfish person and petty as fuck too, but I messed up here. I shouldn’t have let my feelings get in the way." 

He looked ahead, a wry twist to his mouth. "When I realized what you meant to me, I knew I’d never get to be close to you again if I went through with our plan. That I’d never get to talk with you like that again."

You fiddled with your phone in your pocket, shifting your other hand to once again press your thumb against the spot where the ring used to be.

"I don’t want you to stop," you found yourself saying quietly. Ashton beside you jolted, his surprised gaze meeting yours. Hope made his eyes a little brighter, even as he visibly tried to reign himself in.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "I will respect your choices, no matter what." His expression turned hard as he looked away, his shoulders tensing and hunching a little, making him appear smaller. "I will never again ignore what you say."

You looked ahead and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"If this is going to work, we’re going to couples therapy," you said and you heard the sharp breath he took. This time his hope was almost painful to look at.

"Of course," he said. "I’ve been seeing my therapist about this mess myself. Do you have a couple’s therapist in mind? Or should we go to one of ours?"

You mulled that over. "Let’s try ours first, if they agree," you said. "If that doesn’t work, we’ll look for someone specialized."

Ashton nodded with an open, still so very hopeful smile. You noticed the way he pulled his hand out of his pocket, as though he was about to reach out, when he immediately pulled back again. Without much thought, you offered your own hand, not looking at him.

His skin was warm and his palm and fingers calloused when he took your hand as though it was the most precious thing in the world. It made your chest both feel tight and too full.

"Can I still flirt?" he asked after a moment of silence and you found yourself laughing briefly, softly.

"Don’t you dare not to."

"Nicknames?" Ashton asked, that excited, wild-edged smile appearing on his face as he shuffled a step closer to you, still holding your hand so very gently.

"Let’s hear it," you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling back.

He lit up as though he had waited for this moment for ages. "Darling Treasure, brilliant Menace, amazing Foe, my lovely Nemesis -"

You couldn’t help but laugh and duck your head at the same time, flattered and flustered. "Those are just compliments."

He leaned forward a bit to meet your gaze, that wild smile looking downright, well, downright goddamn besotted. "Maybe," he said. "But they’re all true to me."

You had no idea what to say, but whatever expression was on your face, he seemed quite happy about it.

"So, darling Nemesis," he said, that wild-edged smile still on his face even as his voice turned soft and low, the way it used to during your most exciting fights when he’d murmur right by your ear. "Will you let me take you out to dinner?"

You looked up at him and your smile took on a teasing note. "Should I?"

His smile grew into a grin, eyes glowing just a little brighter. "I’d say so. I could take you somewhere cozy and private or fancy and expensive. I do have company money to spend." His grin got a little toothy at those words. "Or I can go and cook you something, set up my little backyard with fairy lights and flowers and in the end we’ll still eat on the couch because Powder will trap one of us the second we dare to sit down inside."

You felt yourself softening. "I haven’t had a good home cooked meal in forever," you said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. His hand shifted, his fingers interlacing with yours. 

For once you didn’t need a reminder that the ring was gone and no longer needed, not when his skin pressed warm against yours, his hold secure. There was no space for dinged, cold iron.

"Then I better do my best," he said softly. "Maybe I’ll even get you to fall in love with me one of these days."

You didn’t tell him that you were halfway in love with him already. That you had been for months and that, once you had worked through a large part of the emotions of the ring incident, those feelings had slowly, gently, bubbled to the surface again.

"Maybe it won’t take as much effort as you think to get there," you said and when you glanced at him, his expression was so open it almost hurt to look at.

"Darling Nemesis," he said, quiet and reverent and so very lovingly. "You are truly the brightest, most amazing person I ever met." He reached up with his free hand and you realized you had stopped walking. His fingertips brushed your cheek, leaving streaks of warmth behind.

"My perfect nemesis," he whispered. "If only you knew how brightly you shine in my eyes."

And when you tugged him a little closer, shifting up to meet him, he pressed a warm, smiling kiss against your cheek. Maybe not everything was perfect, you certainly had some shit to work through together, but you knew you could do it.

His hand was gentle, his touch loving, his fingers elegant and strong between yours and you smiled at the lack of rings you felt, the warmth that was there instead.

Yeah, things were going to be just fine.

*

Taglist:

@permanentlydepressedpigeon @thesaltofcarthage @those-damn-snippets