#was debating putting his name in the tags but he got a mention in the title and in the interview so

[reluctantjoe]

Interview – A Midsummer Night’s Dream director Eleanor Rhode talks technology and Wonka star Mathew Baynton

Aiming to take the chill off this winter is the RSC’s new production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Ahead of the opening this week, director Eleanor Rhode spoke to Gill Oliver about her take on the Dream and what it’s like working with Wonka star Mathew Baynton.

TECHNOLOGY combined with centuries-old stage illusions are making one of the Bard’s most captivating comedies even more magical.

The RSC’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which opened on Tuesday for an eight-week run, features Ghosts and Wonka star Mathew Baynton as Bottom.

Fresh from his roles as a murderous doctor in the Agatha Christie TV series Murder Is Easy, and an evil chocolatier in hit movie Wonka, Baynton has long been a hero to parents and kids everywhere thanks to his leading role in five series of hugely successful kids’ comedy TV sketch show Horrible Histories and later, its spin-off ‘Bill’, a panto-style take on Shakespeare’s early life.

Also in the cast are Nicholas Armfield as Demetrius, Sirine Saba as Titania and Rosie Sheehy as Puck.

The equally prestigious creative team line-up includes composer Will Gregory (one half of electronic music duo Goldfrapp), set designer Lucy Osborne and illusion direction and designer John Bulleid, feted for his work on Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and the RSC’s The Magician’s Elephant.

Weaving all these star-studded strands together is director Eleanor Rhode, who describes Baynton as “an absolute genius” and the whole cast as “amazing”.

Ms Rhode made her directorial debut for the RSC in 2019 with a radical re-telling of King John – a production that was cut short due to Covid.

Now back to take on Midsummer’s Night Dream she’s happy to be back in Stratford.

“The company is wonderful, and everyone is working together brilliantly so it’s very exciting to be back up here - it’s a lovely place to work," she said.

She brings a fresh and confident vision to Shakespeare’s popular tale of four young lovers who, faced with the prospect of unhappy marriage flee the court of Athens and stumble into an enchanted forest.

Nearby, a group of amateur actors rehearse a play to celebrate an upcoming royal wedding and when the mortals cross paths with a warring fairy King and Queen, chaos erupts as the real and fairy worlds collide.

Ms Rhode explained: “The thing that’s always interested me more than a literal forest is leaning into the dream of a Midsummer’s Night Dream, so this is very much a dream space.

“The most exciting thing is finding that crossover between contemporary technology and stage illusions and stage tricks that are hundreds of years old, so expect to see a lot of those things combined.”

By the RSC’s standards the production is a short run but there are upsides to this.

“It means some of the people who would love to come and work up here but can’t commit to a year away from the other projects they’re doing, can come, have a really lovely time and be up here for 10-weeks - we wouldn’t necessarily be able to get them for longer, so that’s enormously gratifying,” she pointed out.

After this run, Ms Rhode, who has a decade's experience of directing, will spend time in developmental workshops before overseeing her second audio play for release on Audible.

She enjoys working in other mediums such as audio, and is excited by the potential that comes with the “pollination of ideas between lots of different disciplines”.

But unlike the RSC, the theatre industry overall tends to be extremely traditional and not geared-up for sweeping change.

She explained: “In terms of creating experiences which are live but also digital at the same time and which have a really broad reach in terms of the audiences, you’re engaging with people who aren’t traditional theatre goers and really broadening the scope of what live story telling can be.

“There’s a whole heap of possibilities and the lovely thing is that a lot of the technology is already there - the technology isn’t the thing - it’s actually the ability to craft brilliant storytelling entwined with the technology that’s sometimes quite scary.”

As for this production of Midsummer Night’s Dream, no one should worry about technology or stage illusions over-shadowing or interfering with the intimacy of live performance.

“You shouldn’t notice the technology and it shouldn’t feel like a standalone thing, in the same way that stage illusions shouldn’t – everything is entwined with the story,” she said.

“My hope is that it’s something the audience don’t really think about, they just enjoy it.”

She added: “This production is already looking beautiful but it should also be very surprising and, hopefully, keep the audience on their toes with all the amazing magic that’s going on in the show.

“Regardless of that, strip away all the technological and magical surprises and the play is the thing.

“It’s a brilliant show with brilliant actors in it - that’s the key thing."

[pasukiyo]

Hey!! Idk if you are taking requests but can I ask for a Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff reader imagine where they are academic rivals and are fighting over a book in the library and Tom pins the reader to a bookshelf and it turns into something heated, the book long forgotten.

Bonus if when they have finished with their make out session, the reader sneakily grabs the book and leaves while childishly smirking at Tom who just stands there with a small smile.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you write it?

THE DISPLEASURE IS ALL MINE

tom riddle x f!hufflepuff!head girl!reader word count; 1,473 warnings; arousal mentioned lol summary; in all your years at hogwarts, you'd been competing against tom riddle. you were always at one another's throats, and today wasn't any different...

 She blinked at the hand covering hers, her fingers curled around the leather spine of the book she’d been searching high and low for in the Hogwarts Library. With a wrinkle in her brow, her gaze trailed up the black sleeve of the hand’s robes until it reached the person’s chest, a shining, silver ‘Head Boy’ badge pinned above the Slytherin House crest. 

 The furrow in her brow deepened and her lips curved down into a frown at the realization of whose hand was atop of hers, eyes narrowed as she peered up into the dark gaze of Tom Riddle. 

 “Tom,” she deadpanned. “How unlovely it is to see you here.”

 A corner of Tom Riddle full, pink lips curled into a sneer as he stepped in closer, fingers slithering over the back of her hand until they curled around the edge of the book she held a firm grip on. 

 “The displeasure is all mine,” Tom replied, glimpsing over to the Charms textbook they both held. “Forgive me for not wishing to stay for small talk,” he said, tugging the book forward and she fumbled to keep her grip on the spine, pushing it back into the wooden shelf. 

 “And forgive me, Tom, but I believe I had this book first,” she replied, anger already beginning to swell in her chest and bubble like magma at the pit of her throat. Tom already seemed to have this effect on her anyways, but why, why of all days did he have to have this book now, when she needed it so desperately?

 Tom’s eyelids narrowed and her glare hardened right back in challenge— he must’ve somehow already known that she’d be needing this book. Oh, she wouldn’t put it past him— perhaps he’d eavesdropped in on the conversation she’d had with her fellow Hufflepuff, Clara Wingrave, earlier when she said she’d be spending her night studying for her Charms N.E.W.T. She had every intention of finishing off her seventh year at Hogwarts as top of her year— there was no way in hell she’d allow Tom to best her this time. 

 “I’m not so sure,” Tom straightened, his displeasure evident in the coal black of his eyes and she puffed out her chest, the ‘Head Girl’ badge above the Hufflepuff crest on her breast glistening even in the dimly-lit library. Tom’s eyes flickered there and oh— he was doing it again. 

 He’d always do this to her, always give her those eyes, that look like for a moment, he wanted her. He’d done it ever since they were fifth years when they’d both been named prefects and nearly toppled into one another trying to be the first ones into the prefect compartment on the train ride to Hogwarts. He’d done it every time they had debates in the middle of Transfiguration, every time they practiced charms in class, even when they had been assigned to a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

 He’d do it almost every chance he got, and this time certainly was no different. She knew he knew what he was doing and what was worse— sometimes, she feared it was working. 

 Tom was trying to weaken her, to expose a weakness within her and exploit it, use it against her. She’d admit that warmth would flood in pools at her cheeks when his gaze lingered on her lips a moment far too long, just as it did now. But when Tom’s own mouth began to curl into a smirk, she knew that she had had enough. 

 Years of competing against one another, of trying to outdo the other, of trying to prove her worth over his, of repressed tension, and outright frustration was beginning to prove to be rather exhausting. To say she’d had enough was the understatement of the century— so when her gaze flickered down to his lips and she could feel the tips of his fingers ghost over her knuckles where they still stayed splayed on the spine of the Charms book, she snapped.

 She was like a rubber band pulled past its limit, the way she threw herself into Tom Riddle, the boy she loathed, or at least, spent all these years convincing herself she hated. Her lips were like a meteor crashing into his like he was the earth and Tom nearly recoiled from the surprise. With her hand not on the spine of the book, she grabbed a fistful of his robes, drawing herself in closer to him to deepen their kiss, her tongue swiping over his. 

 Her heart was pounding against the inside of her chest— what was she doing? What was she even thinking? Was she even thinking at all?

 She didn’t know the answer. Her mind focused solely on Tom Riddle and his lips, his tongue pirouetting around hers once he’d gotten over the initial shock that she was, indeed, kissing him. One of his hands slithered around her waist, palm pressed against the small of her back, while the other cupped the side of her neck, drawing her in even closer. She hummed into his mouth as her hand not fisted in the chest of his robes snaked its way around his neck until her fingers reached his nape, ringlets of his perfectly-tamed dark hair woven between them. 

 For a moment, nothing mattered. For a moment, it was like there was no bad blood between them, nor had there ever been. She kissed Tom Riddle like she’d been pining for this for forever, like she’d been waiting for this moment since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if she always had, if there were a part of her that always dreamed she’d be given the opportunity to kiss him, to have him in such a way. She wondered if a part of her was giddy, while the other half of her wondered if she was just stupid. 

 Their lips broke for a moment so air could be ushered back into either of their lungs and her eyelids fluttered open to find that Tom was already staring down at her, gaze so dark, she wasn’t sure where his pupils began and his irises ended. A string of saliva bridged between their lips and she looked between it and back up at Tom, already hungry for more. 

 “You’re a lousy kisser,” she managed between breaths, attempting to rekindle at least some of the animosity between them, for normalcy’s sake. Tom’s eyes flickered back down to her mouth, eyeing the thread of saliva stringing their lips together. His head shook, head bowed as he leaned in closer. 

 “Be quiet,” he murmured before his lips were on hers again, using the hand he had on the side of her neck to push her up against the bookshelf, her hands darting for the elbows of his robes for balance. 

 His opposite hand palmed at the flesh of her hips through her own robes and she mewled into his mouth as their muscles wrestled against one another. Trying to overpower Tom was proven futile, and while for her dignity’s sake, she wanted to keep fighting, she couldn’t deny the pleasure she found in letting him take control, in letting him explore her mouth deeper, more freely. She could feel her core pulse with the ache of her growing arousal, feeling sweat begin to bead at her hairline from her face’s heat. 

 Merlin, what was she doing?

 This was a boy she hated, a boy she’d been competing against for years now and here she was, snogging him in the library where anyone could catch them any moment now. 

 And she had N.E.W.T.s to study for. 

 She peeled her eyelids open, thankful Tom’s were closed as she removed her hand from one of his elbows, eyeing the Charms book from the corner of her eye. As carefully as she could, she stretched her arm until the tips of her fingers could hook around the top of the spine, her chest surging into his as she yanked it from the shelf, savoring the taste of Tom Riddle’s mouth before she pushed him away altogether. 

 Tom panted as his eyelids snapped open, reaching up to wipe their mix of saliva that had begun to slide down the side of his mouth. Although flushed and clearly out of breath, she held the Charms book proudly up for him to see, spit-covered lips curving into a mocking smile as she began to speed walk away. 

 “Thanks for the book, Riddle! Don't worry, perhaps you'll get your turn after N.E.W.T.s are over,” she called over her shoulder and just before she turned to face the right direction, she swore she could see the pearly whites flash behind Tom Riddle’s lips in a smile. 

a/n; omg i'm so sorry, you literally sent this request in MONTHS ago and i've been so behind 😭 i do hope this is somewhat what you imagined, and i hope you enjoy it!

TAGLIST;

@orphicmortala (thank you for the request <3)

@your-nanas-house

@sallowsarchives

@michelle-26

@iamthejam

[m1ndbrand]

"all it took was..." — The new President

WARNINGS: Coriolanus Snow is it's own warning(Snow after the 10thGames, 2 years after to be precise); Mentions of death and corpse(small description, nothing big).

SUMMARY: The 12th Hunger Games winner unfortunately fortunately gets the attention of President Snow.

WORDS: 1.384

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the franchise The Hunger Games characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. I do claim what I wrote and only that.

A/N: If you know the tragedy of Coriolanus by William Shakespeare some names will be recognizable...Also I'm sorry but this chapter won't be the continuation of their little...encounter— but I promise, it's going to happen!

TAG-LIST: @sorry-mrs-jacobs; @phoward89;

MASTERLIST

He was never someone who believed in the stars and whatever they might mean to some people.

It seemed completely idiotic and beneath someone from the level of education, you would get from the Capitol to have this belief that in his humble opinion, of course — was archaic and beneath him.

Fate and stories written on the stars were all but a way of fairy tales being made, a topic on some and even a very important one at that "merging" some characters together like the universe itself deemed them a pair, one in two.

Star-crossed lovers.

How he hated that idea, he couldn't believe he even fed it to—

Let's not dwell on that topic, he had better things to do, like arrange a new Games Maker for the 12th Hunger Games.

Doctor Volumnia Gaul is no more, some freak accident with one or more than one mutt; it wasn't clear, the body was far too mutilated to be recognised by anyone at all if not for the DNA tests and well...the place of the accident, a place only a few people were able to enter and of course Doctor Gaul was one of those people, him included in the small pool.

It was slightly weird however how the mulls were able to break free, the reporters debated it for the first days the case broke daylight, but the theory was quickly suppressed.

After all, mulls were still in being tested and we're highly volatile, their behaviour unstable and unpredictable. And of course, accidents happen.

But the world continues to go around and so shall the Capitol, he needed to find someone and fast. 

He should have looked more into it, the selection that is. But he had more important things in his place, strength the security in the several points of entry on all distractions, the training of the peacekeepers and the change of the uniform like he so petitioned for just to name a few.

The new and young president had more important things to worry about than some person who would probably be soon replaced if so needed.

The theme he chose ,he didn't even try to remember the man's name, was an advanced-looking arena; a sign of the year the Capitol got a new President. Coriolanus liked the idea. It painted his future reign as one that would lead them into the future, lead them into a better time.

It painted him as a good leader.

The reaping ceremony passed without a problem. Some students clearly didn't like something— their tribute lack of attributes to make them win or the idea of having to participate in such 'twisted games' as the rebel-like-youth liked to name his games. He honestly couldn't care less, blue-ice-like eyes looking straight at the screens with a fake polite smile when the camera twists at him, showing his all too polished self composed with a deep red suit and thick coat that made his figure even more imposing than it normally is.

He would soon return to his manor and actually work, the two hours of the opening ceremony put his work ethic behind schedule more than he liked to admit.

There was much to be done to make the Capitol and the Districts into the way he saw fit and Coriolanus shouldn't waste more time than he already has.

Not even a day later he would have the files of everyone who chose to review. For some reason the late president did this— the threat of the Rebels was still very much a problem and he was of course scared shitless by them so all 'useful' information was of course turned into two paper pages that it was his duty to read through.

Coriolanus was just about to skim through them all but the very first file caught his attention, District One female tribute.

Not the girl's image he didn't even look at it properly, he already saw every tribute face on the reaping ceremony... all looked underfed and clearly not fit for an entertaining games in terms of pure brutal strength, the mentors would need to sell them well to the Capitol. No it was her name. Her last name rang a bell.

A big warning bell was inside his head and it made his eyebrows furrow, hand picked up the two-page long file and flipped through the description of her family. Something was amiss, he could feel it in his bones. Something was wrong. 

Coriolanus could almost feel the hunger tearing at his stomach, his small sweaty hand tightly gripping his equally moist cousin's hand as they received the news of his father's death.

His other small hand gripping the files of several names of supposed rebels that could be the reason behind his father's death. Blond hair falls against his sweaty forehead as at that time he didn't understand why he had to read the names of random men.

Brutus.

His hand grips the file on his hand, veins popping up as his eyes skim through the contents of the file, once and then twice. He didn't even sit down, reading in silence for 10 minutes over and over again to look out for another word, sentence, or anything more.

Only two people are still alive from her family— grandmother and little brother, Valeria Brutus and Menenius Brutus, then they got the last name from her grandfather. His hand moves the paper right and left, trying to see if her grandfather's first name was there. But it wasn't. It probably wasn't deemed to be useful information since he is dead. Putting the papers down he turns with a sigh to his window, chin rising as he looks to see all the perfectly arranged garden of pure white roses in the front of his mansion.

No this shouldn't matter. It didn't matter, not now. He got what he wanted he won, the victor. He was still standing with or without his father.

The nostalgic feeling of feeling hungry regrows once again and it makes him nauseous, sharp eyes turning to the face of the girl on the page. She looked like every other girl he reminds himself as he starts a little too long at her face. Eighteen, one more year and she should have been safe from the reaping.

A smile creeps on his lips. Amusement dancing in his eyes like he had just read a good enough joke.

He couldn't sleep.

Coriolanus hated to be in need of something even if it was just a simple pill to go to sleep. He was better than that, he could sleep alone thank you very much.

Couldn't he just get the information he wanted? He could, he had the resources, and he had the needs to if he so pleases, so why not?

No.

No, he wouldn't lose to this...whatever this is, curiosity, need— want to know. Closure.

Maybe that was it. Know the person or people that did this to him. To his family. The people that made him starve and struggle. Envy and step on people that he knew were living better than him, growing to bring them down so he could feel himself high above them all. Know the people that in a way, made him the way he is now.

Rising he presses the inside of his palms to his eyes.

For fucks sake— Shut the fuck up! 

His mouth was open. Eyes shot open and hands grabbing tightly the silk covers, knuckles turning white. Did he shout those words? Wasn't it all in his head? His hands were shaking, face was slightly flushed red from anger.

It's one of those episodes.

Rising he curses under his breath, feet carrying him to one of the small tables with some pills on them. Deep eyes thin as he tried to look into the colours of the various drugs that looked like they were thrown there and he picked a deep purple one in the midst of the rainbow and quickly gulped it down without water.

His attention is caught by the silver-like glow of the moonlight slipping through his windows, blue tired-looking eyes looking up at the sky, they find the stars instead of the moon that sings for attention. Wishing to catch a stray star amidst the ones that stay. Maybe he could catch it as it falls.

With those thoughts, sleep would soon catch him.

Previous

[4pfsukuna]

Love love LOVE the asexual drabbles and headcannons! Could you do one with Gojo & black asexual woman? Like she teases him ‘i’ll only mess around if you give me a dollar’ as a snarky joke and he’s like ‘i’m rich baby hell yes’ and keeps the joke running🤭 I know i’ll enjoy anything you write! Thank you in advance!

OMG, thank you im glad you love them because i actually love writing them.

• You met him at the mall…the prada store to be exact, you weren’t necessarily shopping more so just debating on a purse or a pair of boots.

•You were a stylist in japan and your clients loved your American style although they had way cooler clothes. Safe to say business was flourishing.

•Yet here you are trying not to blow through money too fast so you were Legit window shopping.

.•The last thing you expect is a white haired man to stand next to you and startle you, you assume he’s going to say something about your hair as most people had done i mean you were a black person in japan.

• He’s holding a few bags and a cup you initially assume he’s blind because of the blindfold but when he begins to talk about the shoe, your slightly confused but you have decorum so you don’t say anything.

• “I’ve had my eye on the bag for a few weeks but they just dropped the new boots so I’m debating” you say and what’s $950 To any normal person its like a penny to him.

• “How about i buy both and you wear them on our first date” he says smoothly leaning up against the glass window and you laugh at first until you realize hes dead serious. You weren’t use to men here flirting with you and it makes you nervous.

• “Usually people start off with their names” you tell him before introducing yourself as you hold out your hand which he places a kiss on.

• “Gojo Satoru” lifting his blindfold revealing the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen

• You also notice he has a tag hanging off his shirt and it cost $1500.

• You decline him buying the stuff for you but accept his offer for a date. What’s the worst that could happen?

• He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he sees you, he thought you were already gorgeous at the mall but looking at you right now it makes something… stir.

• He told you to dress cute but casual he was taking you sight seeing— he never mentioned it would be in a helicopter over the city.

• It’s obvious this man has money to blow and you contemplate looking him up to figure out just who he is.

• He also brings the shoes and bag as a gift, he couldn’t resist! Plus he likes loves the way your face initially lights up before trying to be humble and give it back.

• He lies and tells you its rude to not accept gifts.

• “Gojo i cant accept this without you knowing all about me…” you speak pouting knowing the good time was coming to an end and while the shoes and bag looked perfect you had to confess.

• “Its the wrong size?” He asked looking at your foot and back at the box on the table.

•“What? No strangely enough you got the right size…im asexual” 

•“…thats… cool. I can write with both hands too”

“Gojo thats ambidextrous! Asexual means—“

• “Im just kidding sweetheart, of course i know what it means”

•He definitely did not and googled it under the table.

• You know the meme “we hung out once and weve been together ever since” that was you two.

• The next few weeks he finds time to either take you to breakfast, lunch or dinner and on days hes completely free he’ll take you on some one of a kind date experience. 

• Hes a kid at heart so when you take him to a virtual reality place and literally fight to pay, you have to distract him by kissing him and biting gently on his lower lip.

•He loved it nobodys every paid for anything for him and the fact that you planned the date, paid and had a great experience hes lovestruck.

• He ended up paying since he put a hole in the wall fighting demons in the game mentioning something about it feeling to real.

•Its when 3 of his students run into you two and their shocked he’s not harassing you and actually enjoying voluntarily spending time with him, mainly because he has no idea who you are.

• Nobara follows all of your socials loving your day in the life videos, style advice videos even when you have your celebrity clients in the videos.

•Its megumi knowing who you are and thinking you’re cool that seals the deal for him.

•Gojo loves your cooking so the day you pack him leftovers with a cute smiley face and a note hes literally on the desk kicking his feet in the air… weirding out his students. This was next level even for him.

•They beg to bring you around loving seeing him happy with you.

•Its a collective though and nobara who wants to enjoy regular teen things breaks the ice officially by asking 

“Take this dollar or have sex with Gojo-sensei?”

“Give me the dollar” at the same time he shouts her name. Hes also taken aback cause what do you mean youre going to take the dollar.

“No babe i dont think you heard the question take a dollar or—“

“Give me the dollar”

•For the rest of the day Gojo chooses to be dramatic from the grocery store to the hair supply store where guess whos short $1 of buying hair supplies. You turn to him seeing hes fascinated with the hair clips and different color edge controls.

•“Hey sweetheart i think you should get all of these” he suggest ready to pick them all up waiting on your command. 

•“Hey babe im short” you tell him and he scoffs not paying you any mind looking at the conditioners catagorized by hair type.

“I knew that when i first seen you… what’s your hair type? Does 4b mean 4 everyone? Like your down for interracial dating… how do they know that by hair type? Like hard wig soft life?” He rambles and you almost lose it.

“No im short $1” and he sends you the most devious smirk as he holds open his wallet repeating the question Nobara asked.

“Give me the dollar” you smirk back watching his smile be taken over by a glare as he gives the cashier his card to pay for everything  instead.

“Dont give me that look baby, im rich now come on i ordered a package for you” he loves to buy you things he jokingly ask siri how much the world cost one time.

“Satoru it better not be another pair of prada shoes” you scold as he carries the bags, his silence tells you everything you need to know though.

“Babe I’m running out of space to put all the stuff you bought me, please” you pout loving that this was a problem in your relationship and not anything else.

“I have enough space… You can live with me instead”

[oneforthemunny]

Hi i am new to ur blog nd i luv it nd u!

Can u plz tell mw which eddie s have kids nd the names?

Thanks u luv u

of course! thank you! i'm glad you're enjoying it!

so, this is what i recall lol:

mafia!eddie has baby bea. she was a complete whoopsie baby (read baby blues for more) so that is their only one.

older!dilf!eddie has brielle his daughter with gina. she is a teenager when the story starts, and friends with reader's younger sister madeline (here's yayo for the full backstory). then there is delilah, which is reader and eddie's baby together (mentioned in can't hurry love).

then rockstar!eddie and nepo baby!reader have their six (yes, six) girls, which many believe is karma for mr. bad boy rockstar lol. there is persephone, kensington, sicily and sienna (twins), zahra, and vega (you can read how they got their names in pieces of you and me).

janitor!eddie has two babies with teacher!reader. oliver, who was actually one of your students who came from a bad home life. you and eddie started taking care of him, first at school then after school. he was put into foster care, and you and eddie fostered then adopted him. sometimes after the adoption process, you get pregnant and have olivia (mentioned in the best day with you today).

those are all established with works, this is where it gets a little dicey with the established works:

cowboy!eddie has baby cooper. i think it happened sorta by accident but not really? more so a weren't really planning, but had talked about it, it happened and we're happy kinda thing. there is a blurb i did that mentions baby cooper (i'll tag it here). the best i could remember, they had one more boy, but i don't think he was every given a name or written into the works for sure.

there was discussion about hockey!eddie being a boy dad, having a gaggle of unruly boys lol but never established further, so that's still open for debate and discussion.

there was also one for boxer!eddie, an ask that he'd have a whoopsie baby as well. it wasn't established either but was discussed, but it's still open.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Have You Ever...

Danny gets invited to a hero convention as Danny Phantom, and his booth is next to none other than the legendary Ben 10, one of Danny's own favorite heroes. But when the two start playing a modified version of Never-Have-I-Ever to alleviate their boredom between handshakes with fans, they accidentally expose some things they didn't really mean to.

You can also read it on AO3

Written for X-over Danuary Week 2024, Day 1: Ben 10 | Prison Thanks @crossoverdanuary for running this!

I got a late start because I had DnD today, and I finished this at like 10pm, so I didn't have time to edit. I'm planning on editing it later this week, but until then, sorry for any mistakes. [Edit: it has now been edited]

[Warning for mentions of past traumatic experiences]

It was weird to see such a huge convention center so empty.

Well, it wasn't completely empty, but a few people carrying boxes and setting up displays was a significantly smaller crowd than Danny would normally expect to see in a place like this.

"Ah! Danny Phantom you're here!" A woman with a high ponytail and a convention staff t-shirt walked over to him. "Wow, I'm so excited that you actually came!" 

Her voice was familiar.

"Sally, right?" he guessed. "Sally Braddock?"

"You remembered!" She said brightly.

Sally had been the one who'd convinced Danny to come to this convention. She'd offered him pretty substantial payment, but it was only when she told him he could have three free tickets to the convention as well that Tucker told him he had to agree or they wouldn't be friends anymore. 

So here he was, at San Diego Hero Con, halfway across the country, to sit at a table and sign autographs for a few hours each day, and then do an hour-long panel with a bunch of other teen heroes, and another tomorrow on specifically ghost hunting. (He was still debating whether he should actually show up to that one, or if it would be too dangerous.) The worst part, though, was how early he had to wake up to set up his booth before the event started.

"Here's your presenter badge," Sally said, and handed him a bright yellow name tag clipped to a blue lanyard with the convention's logo on it. "Celebrity meet-and-greets are over there. I'll lead the way. We try not to put them too close to each other or the lines get out of control, but your booth is right next to Ben 10's."

Danny perked up at that. "The alien guy?"

"Yup!"

Oh, man, he hoped he'd get the chance to talk to him. Ben 10 was Danny's favorite superhero. He got to fight real life aliens, sometimes in actual space! And sure, Danny had been to space before that one time Technus had taken over a satellite, but it had still been a ghost fight. It wasn't the same.

"So, this is your table," Sally said, pointing to an empty, white folding table. "Do you have a tablecloth, or banners or headshots or anything?" she asked him with a tight smile.

"Uh.... I don't photograph well," he replied.

Sally sighed. "Well, I can bring over one of the convention tablecloths, but you really should get some kind of poster or cardboard cut-out or something that shows people who they're meeting. And you'll definitely need something to sign. Comic books, or T-shirts. Anything, really. There's a portrait artist in Artists Alley who works pretty fast, her name is Jess. If you get something from her, I can send a gopher to make copies for you to sign." 

"Uh, okay? But, I can just call a friend to bring something."

"Whatever works." With that, Sally left to go organize something else.

Danny called up Sam, who was back at the hotel with Tucker—Tucker would no doubt still be sleeping—and asked her to find a nearby print shop and get a Danny Phantom Banner to hang up and a whole bunch of 8x10 illustrations of him. He let her pick the picture, but asked her to please not pick anything too embarrassing.

Right as he hung up, a pair of people approached the booth next to him carrying plastic tubs. It was none other than Ben 10 himself and a tall, furry, blue alien who was no doubt one of his allies. (That or a cosplayer, but since they were with Ben 10 himself, Danny felt safe in assuming that they really were an alien.) The two of them placed their tubs on the floor and opened them up to start unpacking their display.

"Woah, hi!" Danny said, louder than he meant to.

Ben 10 snapped his head around, muscles tensing. Danny recognized that response all too well, and tried not to let out a sympathetic wince.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said. "You're Ben 10, right? I know this is cringey to say, but I'm a huge fan."

"Uh, thanks? Just Ben is fine."

"I'm Danny Phantom, but you can just call me Danny."

"I can see that... uh... nice to meet you?" Ben replied. He seemed uncomfortable. Had Danny come on too strong.

"Something wrong?"

"What? No, of course not," Ben said, though it wasn't very convincing.

"I am Rook Blonko," Ben's companion said, offering Danny a handshake which he excitedly accepted. "It is an honor to meet another hero, though I will admit, it was only recently that I came to learn about you." 

"Oh, yeah," Danny let out an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his head. "My scope is a lot more regional and sometimes not very... in this dimension." 

"That would be... the Ghost Zone, right?" Ben said casually. "What's it like? Anything like the Null Void?"

So he was at least somewhat familiar with Danny and his exploits. Danny tried not to let that go to his head, but he couldn't help feeling a little giddy nonetheless. Ben laid down a black tablecloth with his logo on it and spread it across his table. This definitely wasn't his first rodeo.

"I don't know about the Null Void," Danny said. "It's like the bottom side of this dimension. It's where ghosts live... or... not live. Reside. Almost everything is green because of all the ectoplasm there, and when humans go there, they can pass right through walls and objects just like ghosts can in this dimension."

"That does not sound like the Null Void at all," Rook observed, pulling rods and boards out of one of the boxes and assembling them into a small standing shelf.

"What's the Null Void like?" Danny asked.

"Mostly red," Ben said with a shrug. "Full of floating islands and enormous aliens. Used as a penal colony for this dimension's worst criminals."

"Oh... yeah, no. Aside from the floating islands, that doesn't sound anything like the Ghost Zone," Danny agreed. "Although it's kind of a cool coincidence that we both have experience with alternate dimensions."

"Yeah, I guess so." Ben looked over at Danny and his sad excuse for a booth—really looking for the first time. "First time at one of these things?"

"Oh yeah," Danny confirmed. "My friend is bailing me out at a print shop right now, but I was so unprepared."

Ben snorted. "Here," he said, digging through one of his boxes and pulling out a bright green swath of fabric. "You can use one of my tablecloths. I brought an extra, just in case. It has my logo on one side, but if you turn it around so the logo faces you no one will be the wiser. We have basically the same color scheme, so it works out."

"Thanks," Danny accepted the tablecloth, slightly surprised, and spread it out over his table. It was almost exactly ectoplasm green, just a shade or two darker. "Have you been to a lot of conventions?"

"A few," Ben said.

"This is your fourth," Rook said.

"That sounds right. If it hadn't been for Rook, I probably would've been just as lost as you at my first one. He's all about preparing in advance. But yeah, I've been a public hero for over a year now, and since my identity isn't a secret anymore, it's easier for the people who run these things to get a hold of me."

"About that... why don't you have a secret identity?"

"It wasn't exactly my choice," Ben replied. "Some kid found it out and exposed me on the internet. It turned out surprisingly well, though, for the most part. Must be nice for you though, not having an alternate identity—not that being dead is nice or anything like that—I mean, it's not a bad thing—or it is a bad thing? I uh... yeah, I don't know what I'm saying."

After taking a moment to parse that rambling sentence, Danny burst out laughing. 

"Hahaha! Is that why you're acting so uncomfortable around me? Because I'm dead? Ha! You don't have to worry about that. You're fine."

"Serious?"

"Dead serious," Danny replied with a smirk.

Ben shook his head with a soft laugh. "Alright, fine.... Actually, that's not the only reason. Back when I was ten and just starting out I had... a bad experience with a ghost-like alien of mine. Ever since, ghost stuff just puts me a little on edge."

"Oh... I see. Well, don't worry, I won't take it personally," Danny said. "Did you really start doing this when you were ten?"

"Yeah. Although I kinda retired for a few years when I was eleven, and started up again when I was fifteen."

Danny did some quick math in his head. "Oh, so altogether, you and me have been in this for about the same amount of time. 'Cause I got started a little over two years ago."

"Yeah?" Ben was silent for a few moments. He pulled out boxed figurines of his alien forms and lined them up on the shelf Rook had assembled. "So... when did you...."

"Die?" Danny finished for him. "I was fourteen. I'm almost seventeen now. In about three months, I mean."

"Do you still age?"

"Sort of?" Danny shrugged.

He and Jazz had come up with an answer to this question a little while ago, when people noticed that Danny Phantom was starting to look older, even though ghosts supposedly didn't age.

"A ghost's body is a reflection of their mental image of themself. In the Zone, ghosts don't really age or change unless something specific happens that makes them feel older or different. Because I spend so much time in the human world still, because I learn and grow with each fight, I still feel like I'm growing up, so I look like I'm growing up, too."

"That is fascinating," Rook said. "I would love to learn more about ghostly biology."

"I would love to tell you about it. Problem is, I really don't know that much," Danny told him apologetically. He shrugged. "Sorry. I'm a superhero, not a scientist."

"I'm here!" Sam called, her heavy combat boots tromping into the room. She was carrying a large cardboard box. "I would have been here sooner, but I had to put together a design for the banner. Luckily I found a printer that could make one for you on short notice like this, or you'd be screwed."

"You're a life saver!"

"You wish," she scoffed. "I got you a banner and three hundred head shots."

"That's not gonna be enough," Ben said immediately.

"Ya think?" Sam asked.

"Trust me."

She sighed heavily in annoyance. "Okay, I can go back and get some more, but you so owe me, Danny."

"Yeah, I know," Danny said, taking the box from Sam. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, taking one of the head shots off the top of the stack and leaving again.

"Is that your friend?" Ben asked.

"One of them," Danny confirmed, setting the box down on the table. "That's Sam. She and Tucker have been with me since the beginning. He's probably still asleep at the hotel."

He pulled out a stack of head shots for the table and slid the box with the rest underneath. She'd picked a good picture. It was a poster illustration for a local ghost awareness presentation he'd done a while back, and he nearly sighed with relief when he saw it. He'd been half afraid she'd pick one of the grainy newspaper photos of him in his underwear.

"That's cool," Ben said. "Yeah, I don't think anyone could do this job without allies. When I first started, I had my Grandpa and my cousin, then my cousin and my best friend, and now I have Rook as my partner."

"We have been together for a year," Rook added.

"Like... together together or...?"

"Working partners," Ben clarified insistently. "It's not like that."

"Oh, okay, my bad."

Hoping to alleviate his embarrassment, Danny unfurled his new banner and flew up to hang it on the wall behind his booth. It looked cool, but not too complicated. Just his name and logo and a little bit of ghost designs around the edges. Sam had done a good job with it.

"You are not the first to think that," Rook consoled. "It is a more common assumption than one might think."

They continued chatting idly while they set up their booths. Danny got to ask Rook what kind of alien he was, and what his home planet was like. Sam showed up with a whole bunch more photos and then immediately abandoned them to get a sneak preview of artist alley before she came back as an attendee.

Just before the convention center officially opened, Danny worked up the courage to ask Ben for an autograph, and Ben obliged him with a smile, offering an exchange, rather than asking for payment. Danny eagerly accepted, signing one of his own pictures and trading it for Ben's. Ben's looked far more professional than his own. He hoped people wouldn't be disappointed.

As people started trickling in past the security checkpoint up front, both heroes only got a few people in the beginning. After only about twenty minutes of boredom, Ben suggested they play a game.

"Sure," Danny agreed. "What game?"

"My buddy Kevin calls it Reverse-Never-Have-I-Ever, and my cousin calls it Have-You-Ever." Ben said. "See, we could never play regular Never-Have-I-Ever, because we all knew all the weird stuff we'd done and we'd target each other mercilessly. With this version, You say something you have done, and anyone who hasn't done it loses a point. If everyone's done it, no one loses a point."

"Okay... I think I get the idea, but why don't you start? Five fingers or ten?"

"Let's start with five," Ben said. "Rook, you playing?"

"I will pass," Rook said. "I always lose this game."

"Alright, if that's what you want." Ben shrugged. "Alright, Danny, have you ever... transformed into a different species?"

"Yes."

"You have?!"

"Uh, yeah. I went from human to ghost. Duh."

"Oh... right, duh," Ben agreed, shaking his head at how foolish he'd been to blow his first question like that. "Wow, I can't believe I didn't even think about that...."

"My turn, right?" Danny said. "Have you ever fought an evil alternate version of yourself?"

"Yeah, like six of 'em."

"Okay, well, now you're just showing off."

Ben smirked. "Oh, I never get to use this one on my friends. Have you ever been to space?"

Danny smirked right back. "One of my rogues possessed an orbital satellite."

"Damn it!" 

Someone walked over to Danny's table and he smiled at her, pointedly ignored the way she shivered when he shook her hand, and signed a photo for her.

"Okay," he said, shifting his attention back to the game, "have you ever... been cut in two."

"I regenerated, but yeah."

"How?" Danny demanded.

"Plant alien."

"I should've guessed. Stupid plant creatures with their stupid regenerative powers. Undergrowth-ass alien. Lame." 

Ben laughed at him while he signed a figurine for a fan who came to his table. "How about this. Have you ever fought a medieval-style knight?"

"A knight? Hold on." Danny considered that for a moment. Had he? He'd rescued Sam from Dora's realm that one time, and yeah, he'd definitely had to fight the ghosts of knights then. Oh! Also Fright Knight. How could he forget about him. "Yes, I have definitely fought knights on several occasions. Ghost knights, obviously."

"Ugh! I really thought I had you with that one. Why do ghosts who died a thousand years ago have to stick around for so long?"

"Nope!" Danny teased. "Okay, how about this one. Have you ever fought a ghost?"

"Define ghost?" Ben asked.

"The law defines a ghost as any creature which produces ectoplasm, is composed of ectoplasm, or requires ectoplasm to survive," Danny recited. 

There was no need to say which law—that would be the anti-ecto acts. It was stupid that those stupid acts were still even law when public support of ghosts had never been higher. Although, they hadn't been as heavily enforced the last year or so, since the G.I.W. lost a lot of funding after repeatedly failing to catch their most wanted, Danny.

"Then yes, I have," Ben said. "Have you ever fought an alien?"

"Define alien."

"A creature originating from a planet or plane other than Earth."

"Then yes, ghosts."

"Ah ah ah!" Ben argued. "Ghosts are the spirits of dead humans, which means they originate on Earth."

"Except that not all ghosts are the spirits of dead humans," Danny countered right back. "Many ghosts originally formed inside the Ghost Zone, which makes them, by your definition, aliens, and I have fought them, too. Also I fought off some Incurseans back when they invaded the Earth a little while back. It was awesome." 

Ben groaned.

"Haha! Gotcha!"

"Just go already."

"Have you ever died?"

"Ha! Yes, I have," Ben said, as if dying was some huge victory. "You probably thought you had me, but you were wrong. I may have been brought back through alien magic and/or time travel, but yes, I have died. Speaking of which, have you ever time-traveled."

"Psh, have I time traveled?" Danny scoffed. "I have literally met the Ancient, omniscient Master of Time. He's a huge pain in the neck."

It was at this point that more people started accumulating at the two heroes' tables. Some got in line for autographs, though both Ben and Danny were too engrossed in their game at this point to give their full attention. Others just stood, watching, and listening to the two of them. A few even started filming their little game.

"Alright, my turn," Danny said. "Have you ever... oh, I have a good one! Have you ever had to fight your best friend after he copied your powers which then caused him to lose his mind and become evil?"

"Literally how?!" Ben shouted.

"Is that a no?"

"No, I meant 'literally how' as in how has something that specific happened to both of us?"

"No way!"

"Yes way! That's happened to Kevin more than once."

"What?!"

"I know, right?"

"It is also strange for this game to go so long without any of the participants losing a point," Rook said. "I believe it is at this point that I would have lost, had I been participating."

"You put up a good fight, Rook," Ben joked.

"But... I was not playing?"

"I was teasing, Rook."

"Ah, yes."

"Whose turn is it now?" Ben asked. "Mine, right?"

"Yeah," Danny confirmed.

"Have you ever had a limb severed?"

"Yes, but I'm a ghost, so I reattached it pretty easily. Have you ever altered the fabric of reality?"

"I once had to recreate the entire universe after it got destroyed, and then went on intergalactic trial for doing it. And the worst part is, ever since then, grape smoothies just don't taste the same. It's so frustrating. I did get this super comfortable hoodie out of it, though." 

"Ew, smoothies?" Danny grimaced. "What are you a yoga mom?"

Ben stood up, slamming a hand on his table and with the other, he pointed accusingly at Danny. "Smoothies are delicious, screw you!"

"You're just frustrated because I'm winning."

"You're not winning, neither of us have lost a single point! But you will!" Ben declared. "Have you ever saved the whole entire universe."

"Yes."

"What?" Ben fell back into his chair, deflated.

"A while back, this one group, the G.I.W. tried to destroy the Ghost Zone with a special anti-ghost nuke, and I stopped them. The Ghost Zone is the flip side of our dimension, so if it had been destroyed, it would have taken our universe along with it. Hence, I saved the universe. I just didn't let it get all over international news first."

"Boo!"

"Isn't that my line?" Danny said. 

Ben threw a sharpie at him and he turned intangible and let it pass right through him while he laughed at his own joke.

"Anyway, have you ever visited an alternate timeline where the entire earth is barren and desolate and the alternate version of you rules supreme?"

"Yes, I call it the Mad Universe, because it looked like Mad Max, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I can see it. But really? You have?"

"Yup. The alternate version of Rook was a jerk." 

Rook frowned but didn't have the chance to say anything before Ben kept talking.

"Have you ever... I don't know... every time I go weirder, you just match me. Have you ever had a family member be friends with one of you enemies?"

"Yeah, my dad considers my archenemy his best friend in the world," Danny said. "The feeling is not mutual, though. Have you ever been imprisoned by one of your enemies?"

"More times than I can count. Have you ever asexually reproduced?"

"Do clones count?"

"No!" Ben refused.

"Yes," Rook argued, possibly still upset about Ben's jerk comment. "Technically, cloning is a form of asexual reproduction."

"But could they fly?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to asexual reproduction, but yes," Danny said. "They were ghosts. They could fly. Most of them were too unstable to survive though. There's only one left." He frowned.

"Oh... sorry."

"It's... fine." It wasn't fine. He still found himself lying awake at night thinking about them sometimes. Danny shook his head and plastered on a determined grin. "I really think I've got you this time, though."

"Do you?" Ben did not sound convinced.

"Have you ever had to fight sentient food that was not still alive?"

"Y—wait...." Ben frowned as he thought about it for a long moment. "No... I haven't."

"Yes!" Danny cheered and Ben buried his head in his hands, humiliated. "This puts me in the lead."

"Not for long," Ben said. "Have you ever eaten food from another planet?"

"Wha—noooo...." 

"Ha!"

"We're dead even again." 

Their game continued.

"Have you ever fought a cult's subject of worship?"

"Have you ever had a Christmas-themed battle?"

"Have you ever fought on the same side as one of your enemies?"

"Have you ever been called upon to end a war?"

"Have you ever unexpectedly developed a new power that caused you trouble?"

"Have you ever used your powers to get out of other responsibilities?"

"Have you ever had to skip out on something you were really looking forward to and save the day?"

"Have you ever been blamed for property damage your enemies caused just because you happened to be there at the time?"

"Have you ever been mind controlled?"

"Have you ever fought an evil circus?"

The game kept going on and on, while they absently shook hands and signed autographs, with neither of them giving up another point. Until Sally showed up to tell them it was time to go to the teen hero panel they were on. 

It was only then that they looked up and saw all the cameras that had been recording their game. How long had they been recording? How much had they gotten?

"Uh... right," Ben said. "Sorry everyone. You can come back for autographs after the panel. And Danny, I think we're gonna have to call it a draw."

"We'll have to have a rematch some other time," Danny said, trying to keep his tone light, despite his sudden anxiety. 

Sally led the two of them to a large room with rows upon rows of empty seats, right down the aisle to the stage up front where a man in his thirties was already standing, and a masked teenage girl with glowing pink hair and eyes was sitting behind the table.

"Hello, I'm John and I'll be moderating this panel," the man introduced. "This is Lucky Girl, another teen hero we invited. Lucky Girl, this is Ben 10 and Danny Phantom."

"Nice to meet you," Danny said.

"I can't believe they roped you into this," Ben said, smiling at the girl like he knew her.

"Shut up," the girl barked back. "We can't all gain international fame overnight, and I have to pay for student housing."

"You two already know each other?" John asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah, we've known each other for a long time," Ben said. "All our lives, in fact."

"Ben, I swear if you give me away I will hex you so bad your children's children's children will travel for miles just to spit on your grave."

Ben put up his hands in surrender, and took his seat without another word. Danny followed his lead. This Lucky Girl didn't seem like the kind of person he wanted to mess with.

Once they were all in their seats, John gave them a quick run down of how the panel would go. He would ask a few questions. They would answer. He would open it up to questions from the audience, and they would answer those too. After an hour, the panel would be over, and they would return to their booths, or in Lucky Girl's case, simply leave, as she apparently didn't have a booth.

"She uses her powers to disguise herself, but she can't keep that up for more than an hour and a half," Ben whispered to Danny, clearly sensing his confusion. "She'll probably hang around for a little while after to greet fans, but she'll have to leave when her mana's drained."

"Oh, okay, that makes sense," Danny whispered back, nodding. "I was worried it might be like a sexism thing."

"As if she'd stand for something like that," Ben scoffed.

Soon enough, the doors opened, and people started trickling in. The seats filled up with mostly teens and young adults, with a few parents and older adults sprinkled in. Danny noticed Sam and Tucker come in and sit in the back row and waved at them. Rook was also sitting in the back row, trying not to draw attention to himself. Although, it seemed like most people thought he was a cosplayer, so he didn't really have to bother hiding.

When the doors closed, John started the panel.

The first part was easy. 

John asked questions like: "How do you balance being a hero with the other responsibilities you have as an adolescent?"

"Honestly, not well. You know how people say 'you can sleep when you're dead'? Yeah, that's a lie." 

"I'm lucky enough to have a good memory so I don't have to study much, otherwise my grades in school would tank. For me, the real struggle is finding time to do chores." 

"I prioritize my other responsibilities. I don't usually face world-ending, city-destroying threats like these two, which allows me the luxury of saving hero work for after my homework is finished."

And: "Where do you go when you want to de-stress after saving the day?"

"I usually go over to my friends' and play video games. I feel safe around them."

"If the sun's still up, Mr. Smoothie. But if it's late, I like to go out for chili fries."

"The library. I know it makes me sound like a nerd, but whatever. I am a nerd. Who cares."

And: "How do your parents figure in to you heroic activities?"

"They... don't know. They don't exactly have a great opinion of ghosts, and they don't recognize me when... I mean, they don't recognize me anymore. So I guess they don't figure in." That wasn't entirely true, but Danny wasn't about to say they shot at him in front of a crowd of hundreds of people.

"My parents are actually very supportive. At first, they wanted me to quit, because they were worried about my safety, but I changed their minds. They raised me to know right from wrong, and to help others whenever I can, and they're proud of me."

"My parents don't know either, and I don't live with them right now because I live on my school campus, so I guess, like Phantom, my parents don't really figure in either."

They were easy questions to answer, even if Danny didn't always tell the whole truth. John kept things light, focusing mostly on them being teenagers, and how being a hero affected that aspect of their life, rather than the other way around. There were a couple questions about battles and enemies, but for the most part, they avoided the heavy stuff.

Then, about halfway into the panel, John opened it up to the audience to ask questions.

They didn't shy away from the heavy stuff.

"Hi, I'm Mandy, big fan," said a girl with curly brown hair. "I have two questions for Ben, first is, are you dating anyone?"

Ben chuckled, trying to sound amused, even though, up close, Danny could tell the question made him uncomfortable.

"No, I'm not dating right now."

The girl giggled for a moment before asking her next question. "My next question is: when you're fighting an alien invasion basically by yourself, do you ever feel afraid?"

Ben didn't answer right away. He took a breath, and nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I know I'm strong, and there's a lot that I can do and have done, but when I'm outnumbered a thousand to one, yeah, I'm a little afraid."

"Not that you were ever actually by yourself," Lucky Girl pointed out.

"Heh," Ben rubbed his neck awkwardly. "That's true. Even if there weren't many, I've always had people in my corner."

The next person who stepped up was a guy in a Danny Phantom T-shirt which read 'it's not gay if he's dead.'

Danny immediately groaned and Ben grinned hugely. "Before you ask your question, I have a question for you. Where did you get that shirt?"

"I got it at a souvenir shop when I went to Amity Park, but I think you can buy them online, too," they guy said.

"I'm getting one."

Danny groaned even more insistently.

"My question is for Phantom. If you hadn't died, do you think you still would have become a hero, and protected your home from ghosts?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Danny admitted. "Amity Park does have other ghost hunters, the Fentons and Red Huntress, for example. If I hadn't d... if I didn't have my powers, I wouldn't really have the ability to protect anybody. I'd probably leave it to the ghost hunters who were better equipped."

"And for Lucky Girl, are you single?"

"Ha ha no," she said flatly. "I have a boyfriend."

"Figures."

Next up was a girl in some pretty fantastic Lucky Girl cosplay. Her wig even lit up. Although she looked like she was quite a bit taller than the real thing.

"Lucky Girl, do your periods ever interfere with fighting crime?"

"Uh... that's a bit personal," Lucky Girl said instantly, as if the answer was instinctive. 

But when she saw the way the girl reacted like she'd been slapped, hunching in on herself with shame, Lucky Girl bit her lip and answered anyway. 

"Actually... the life of a superhero is really stressful. The kind of stress that has... biological effects. When I first started fighting crime as, like, a regular thing, I didn't have a period for months. When I finally did again it was... you know what, I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, it was really bad. Like, my doctor prescribed me pills to stop me from menstruating bad. So... I guess the answer to your question is 'not anymore' and also sorry for the TMI." She finished with a short grimace.

"Thank you for answering," the girl said before going to sit back down.

Ben covered his mic and turned to her. "How come I never knew about that?"

"Are you kidding?" Lucky Girl muttered back. "Like I'm gonna discuss my cycle with a fifteen-year-old boy."

Ben didn't even attempt to argue with that.

As... much as those questions were, it was the next one that really stopped everything in its tracks.

"Hi, I'm Michael. I don't know if you know about this video that's going around. It was only posted, like, less than an hour ago, but it's really blown up in fan circles already," the young man said. "The video shows Phantom and Ben 10... I guess playing a game or something? Where you guys are asking each other if you'd done certain things and basically comparing experiences with each other? Do you know it?"

Ben and Danny shot each other anxious looks.

"Uh... I haven't seen it, but I think we know what you're talking about," Ben answered cautiously. "Is that your question?"

"No, my question is... well, in the video you guys are talking about alternate timelines, and fighting evil versions of yourselves, and getting mind-controlled, and changing reality. I guess my question is. Did all that stuff really happen to you guys?"

Neither Ben nor Danny wanted to answer. They didn't look at each other, or the crowd. They deeply regretted playing a game that revealed such personal secrets in a public space.

Finally, Ben cleared his throat. "Yes, all that happened." Danny nodded his own confirmation. "The life we lead is a dangerous one, and it demands sacrifices, and it takes a lot from you, and it puts you in a lot of strange situations that few others can understand. It's... not for everyone."

The next fan stepped up to the mic. "Follow up questions. First, how are you guys like... functional? Because I mean, if I'd gone through the kind of stuff you were talking about in that video, I think I'd have a mental breakdown. Second, why would you put yourselves through all that?"

"Well, first off, bold of you to assume I've never had a mental breakdown," Danny said. "And secondly, if we don't do it, who will?" he asked. "We're not just random ordinary high schoolers who up and decided to subject ourselves to unspeakable trauma just for the fun of it. 

"We do this because we have the power to do things others can't, to fight enemies other people can't fight. We do this because if we don't... if we don't, people die. Or worse. People experience the kind of things we do trying to protect them. So I guess the answer to both of your questions is, what other choice do we have?"

"Yeah, exactly what Danny said," Ben agreed. "I tried to give up my powers, and my responsibilities once, and people got hurt because of it. My grandpa.... Because I wanted to live a normal life, to take it easy, there was no one else to protect them. It is every individual's responsibility to do what they can to help others. It just so happens that we can do more than most, and that comes with drawbacks. 

"Lucky Girl, care to weigh in? You weren't in the video, but I know you've had your share of superhero related trauma."

"I think you guys pretty much covered it," she replied. "I don't think I've been through quite as much as you two, but I definitely know about the sacrifices we make for this life. I also know that it's worth it to know that the people and places you love are safe and protected because of you."

The boy's both nodded in agreement.

The questions didn't really lighten up after that. "What's the worst experience you've ever had as a hero?" "Have you ever failed to protect someone?" "We heard Ben 10 say so already, but have you ever wanted to quit, or wished you never had powers in the first place?"

After a point, John noticed how uncomfortable they were getting and had to step in and ask that the next few questions not be so dark.

A younger girl, maybe even a middle schooler, hand mercy on them at last, and asked, "What was the funniest thing that ever happened to you while you were saving the day?" and from there the questions finally eased up.

It felt like it had been far longer than an hour when the session ended, and they left the stage and returned to their booths to sign autographs and shake hands and listen to dozens of people gushing, "I'm you're biggest fan!"

They didn't pick up their game again, even when things got slow. Evidently they'd learned their lesson. And they kept learning it as more and more of the people who came to visit them asked about that video. Each time Danny had to smile and laugh it off, the regret deepened. 

It had been a while since he felt like such a complete idiot. Since he'd done something so thoughtless. He'd gotten a lot better at keeping secrets over the years, but he'd just been so excited to talk with someone he had so much in common with—and yeah, he'd probably gotten a little too competitive also. He should have known better.

"So uh... I was at your panel earlier," said a girl who placed a science magazine on the table for him to sign. The cover touted an article about 10 Things You Didn't Know About Ghosts (they have their own culture!). Danny remembered doing that interview.

"That's nice, thanks for coming," Danny said, his smile tensing. "Do you want me to sign the cover, or the page with the article."

"The cover please," the girl said. "For Marnie. And um... I was too nervous to stand up and ask before, but... I was really curious."

"Oh?" Danny asked, keeping his eyes on his hand as he signed the cover 'To Marnie, stay spooky'.

"Why would you make it a game?" she asked. "Wouldn't it be better to try to forget all those things?"

"Easier said than done," Danny said. "Things like that stay with you. Turning them into a joke or a game takes the power away from those bad memories. When you're laughing at your fears, what can they do to you? That's the way I see it. Ben might have another reason, and technically, it was his game. He came up with it."

"So... what you're saying is, laughter is the best medicine?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Danny agreed. He slid the magazine back to her. "Thanks for coming by."

Finally, Danny's shift was over, and Ben's ended at the same time. Just in time, too, because Danny was just about out of photos. He'd have to get more for tomorrow. He signed his last picture with a sigh of relief, thankful that the convention staff had come by to cut off the line when it was about time for him to be finished.

"You finished too, Danny?" Ben asked.

"Yup."

"You wanna go get lunch with us? Wait... do ghosts eat?"

"We do, but I was gonna meet up with my friends for lunch today, and then explore the convention a little." Danny said. "Are you gonna be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm here for the whole con," Ben said. "Here, let me give you my number. We should keep in touch."

"Totally!" Danny agreed. "It'll be nice to have an actual superhero friend. I love Sam and Tucker, but there are some things...."

"Yeah, I get what you mean."

After swapping numbers the two of them headed off to their separate engagements. Danny transformed and got to experience what else Hero Con had to offer without getting swarmed by fans like he saw happening to Ben that afternoon.

They met up again the next day. Chatted at their booths, had lunch together, checked out the fan artists, just hung out for a while. This time around, Danny didn't have his human form to protect him from the crowds. 

That video of their game haunted them both for the rest of the convention. People kept bringing it up until it became almost more annoying than mortifying. 

When Hero Con finally ended, they both breathed sighs of relief. The convention was over, but Ben and Danny kept in touch. They never did have that rematch though. In fact, they were both pretty much done with 'Have-You-Ever'.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi! Can you write a Morpheus x reader where they have a big family (like five kids, with one on the way) and have been married for like 12+ years with their oldest kid being born a year into their marriage and it’s just Morpheus being a dad and him and the reader being a family with their kids (oh! Like a scene where their kids interrupt him during his serious work wanting to hang out with their dad)

Papa! Papa!

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: Just a normal average day in the Dreaming with 1 mom, 1 dad, 5 kids and 1 on the way [sips tea] [butterfly fluttering] [dumpster fire] [caveman music].

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: fem!reader, wife!reader, mom!reader, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms/pregnancy struggles, 💀children💀, soft dad!dream, my ideal husband!dream, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: I LOVE SOFT!DAD FICS (so much so i got carried away T_T) IM SO EXCITED I CAN FINALLY WRITE THIS. also, holyeaglefanlawyer since you made another req with a similar prompt, i might make that a p2 but lol it's at the very end of my req list so lskfha;sfsah so. also i had to think of 5 NAMES ASHFAHSF:LASFHAS: DEAD T_T i hope yall like em please names are so hard. i put so much thought into their names gosh ALSO ALSO i describe the features of the kids, but they all register this way mostly because of dream's mystical-ness ya feel, not so much because of yn ok? ok good night im dead now Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx

My eyes rip open at the ear breaking screech that rings through the whole of the Dreaming. I am certain my eyes are blood shot in exhaustion, and yet I power through. I huff as I place a hand on my round belly. I slowly maneuver up on the bed I laid for a nap.

Ah. Naps. Ironic I could not find slumber in the dwelling of the Dream Lord.

I suck in a breath as I internally debate which child busted their lung out in protest of goodness-knows-what this time.

I put on my fuzzy slippers when I get to the side of the bed. I push myself up and sigh as I get to my feet, slowly making my out of my bedroom, my final place of refuge.

Farewell peace, or whatever semblance of it I had.

The moment I exit, there are a chorus of screams, groans, and giggles.

I make it to the entrance of the throne room. Immediately, I see the scattered toys and hundreds of children sprawling the area. Literally. There were a hundred plus children sprawling the area, all copies of my son-

"Noor, please," I shake my head, placing my hand on the child's tiny shoulder, "we talked about materializing copies of yourself."

"Mama!" he says in excitement, dropping the toy horse in his hand, coming up to me, sealing his arms around my legs.

I smile down at him, my little Noor. I brush his golden hair back, bright like the stars, much like what his name meant, light.

"Gadiel and I are playing armies though," the fourth born pouts, pointing across the hall where about a same hundred copies of his older brother, Gadiel, was stationed. He turns to me, gripping me tightly, "I don't want to lose to him again. He- aw!" he cuts himself off, turning to his left, "Hey! THAT HURT!"

I watch as Gadiel and Noor begin to struggle against each other from across the hall, pulling at each other's clothes, smacking each other's face.

Well, I didn't know what I was expecting, but this looked about right.

"BOYS!" I call out sternly.

The copies of my sons all turn to me as my voice echos in the hall.

"Mumma?" a whisper sounds by my ears, undoubtedly my youngest making herself known to me, though she was nowhere near me, and was lost in the sea of her brothers.

All at once, Gadiel and Noor's copies begin to disappear until it is only the Noor by my thigh, pressing his face into me while tears fled his eyes, and Gadiel, a good few feet across the hall, who was quickly making his way over.

Now that the ocean of boys were gone, I spot in the corner, on a carpet, littered with stuffed toys, my daughter, Isra, who was already looking at me, grinning from ear to ear, "Mumma!"

I watch her stand on her tiny legs, her shiny, dark hair, bouncing with every step she took. Journey of the night, the little girl's name meant. I gasp at her journey towards me when she nearly falls.

Gadiel notices my reaction then turns to where I was looking, spotting his little sister. He stops in his tracks, making a u-turn for her, helping her come to me.

I let out a breath at the sight, "good boy."

Upon hearing the praise, Noor looks out at his younger and older siblings, brows furrowing, "mama, he hit me!"

I turn down to Noor, who pulls away from me to point accusingly at his brother again, "he hit me," he repeats then begins to point at his body, "here, here, here-"

"NOT AT THE SAME BODY!" Gadiel cries out, as he holds Isra's tiny hands up while she walks in front of him. "Mama!" he calls, "he hit me too!"

"Mumma!" Isra babbles breaking into a giggle.

I meet my little girl halfway, breathing in deeply before carrying her in my arms. I grunt at the weight of it all, but I push past the heaviness when my daughter giggles and grabs my face, affectionately nuzzling into me.

"Mama look!" Noor complains, pointing to his face, "I think I have a black eye!"

I raise my brows as I look at the boy's spotless face. Gadiel then follows suit, twisting his arm around, pointing arduously at his elbow, "LOOK! HE INJURED ME!"

"THAT'S YOUR BIRTHMARK!" Noor angrily growls.

"AND YOU RUINED IT!" Gadiel bites back.

I sigh, blinking slowly in exasperation. I am calmed when Isra begins to speak nothings to me in her high pitched voice, full of splendor. I swoon at her baby talk.

I smile and nod, "yes, my girl, Gadiel and Noor have been naughty."

The boys do not even hear me when I say this.

God is my fortune, that is what my third born's name means. I must remember that--I have to remember that. God is my fortune. God is my fortune. God is my fortune. God is m-

"Silence."

The two boys jolt in their spots upon hearing the echoing sound of the deep voice of their king.

The next moment, Irsa is taken from my arm. I turn to my right, finding a kiss placed upon my cheek, "my queen, I told you that-"

"PAPA! GADIEL HURT ME!" Noor shrieks, running up to his papa's legs.

"HE HURT ME TOO!" Gadiel runs towards the man he got his blue eyes from.

"Silence!" Dream calls, looking down at his sons, who were now swatting each other. It does not work the second time around.

I release a breath, intervening, "boys."

Still nothing.

"ENOUGH!" Dream says, pushing between the boys, looking down at both of them. Isra, blissfully unaware of it all, begins to aimlessly pat her father's face, just as he begins chastising the two, "it's bad enough you woke your mother-" he stops a moment when the toddler's finger finds its way into his mouth. Dream pulls her arm back, wiping her hand on his collar, "I will not have you show such disrespect by quarrelling before the both of us."

"But papa," the two say weakly in unison.

"No rebuttals," Dream calls, "now-" Isra cuts him off when her hands flails over to his eyes, poking them unintentionally.

Noor slaps a hand on his mouth. Gadiel's cheeks expand as he holds back his laughter.

"Papa," I call, "let me-"

"It's ok, mama," Dream turns to me, raising a hand as he readjusts the child in his arm. I watch as he turns to the boys, who were now hunched over closely to each other, muttering and giggling amongst themselves, surely making fun of their father over what their sister did to him.

"Now," Dream starts, "apologize to each other."

The two let out hushed chuckles as they separate. The seven-year-old presses his lips, "we already did," crossing his arms.

The five-year-old nods his head, struggling to cross his arms, but succeeding eventually.

"Well, I did not hear it," the ???-year-old says to his boys, shaking his head. The three-year-old in his arms rubs her cheek on his shoulder. I coo at the sight of it.

Noor and Gadiel turn to each other, muttering sorry once, turning back to papa after.

"Good enough," papa says, "very well then, begone," he shoos them with a hand.

The two perk up, now off the hook. Noor runs away first, giggling about playing in Fiddler's Green. Gadiel raises a hand, gesturing that Noor should wait. Gadiel turns to his papa, motioning to his jaw, "papa, you have drool on your chin," then runs away with his brother.

I inspect Dream's face, but the man wipes his chin of any evidence before I could spot it.

"I am uncertain if I enjoy how quickly they turn into friends and foes," Lord Morpheus orates as her daughter yawns and begins to nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

I rub her back then caress his cheek, "does it matter if you enjoy it? It's not like it would change the fact."

"I am Shaper of Forms, am I not?" he says, stepping closer, hand coming up to my side.

"Ahhh," I sound, "just like how you said you'd make the twins go to sleep, only to find your powers don't work on them."

Dream turns away, brows raising at the memory, "it's not that my power does not work, it's because their own power that-"

"PAPA, I DID IT!"

The two of us turn our sights to the lanky eleven-year-old boy, waving his hands victoriously as he stands on the throne.

Dream grumbles then points, "off."

The boy drops his hands, jumping off the throne. His twin sister's mocking chuckles are faint in the air.

Dream turns to me, muttering softly, "children."

I snort as my husband leads us to his desecrated chair. I take his free hand and lean into him, continuing his words, "you wanted."

He narrows his eyes , "I am offended by the lone notion."

I break into a laugh. I tilt my head and correct myself, "we wanted."

Dream grabs my hand, placing a kiss at the back of it. He then brushes his hand on my protruding belly amorously, "yes. Every single one."

"Papa!" our eldest calls, meeting us halfway as he excitedly jogs over, "I did it! I got us back here using my own sand!"

"I helped him though!" our second-born calls, one leg thrown on the armrest of her father's throne, "he nearly got us stuck in a vacuum."

Orion rolls his eyes, "did not."

"Did too!" Aurora stomps both her feet on the ground.

"DID NOT!"

"DID T-"

"Silence," Dream mutters under his breath, as not to awaken the napping child in his arms. It is effective to the older children though.

Dream takes the boy's face into his large hand, rubbing his thumb on his cheek, "very good, my son, you have done me proud."

Orion beams, the stardust freckles on his skin shine like the very constellations of his being.

Aurora rolls her eyes, lips curling as she pushes her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around herself, "I did it first though!"

"You did, indeed, my daughter," Dream turns to her, making his way to his throne. The chair widens as to make room for the both of them, "I am proud of you for it," the king sits next to his princess, "and for the assistance you gave our prince."

Aurora turns to her papa. With Isra in one arm, Dream throws the other arm over Aurora's shoulders, pulling her close. His older daughter's hair flutters with a halo like the borealis as she leans into him lovingly.

"Orion, can you make me a cushioned chair with two pillows?" I huff, leaning on my son's shoulders, feeling exhaustion creep up on me.

Dream and Aurora turn to Orion, who then says, "I'll make them the softest, mummy!"

"Moron!" Aurora quips, "she doesn't like super soft pillows."

"Language," I call to my daughter as my son turns to me.

He verifies, "how soft do you want your pillows, mama?"

Aurora pulls away from Dream, walking over to us with a grunt, "let me do it."

"No! She asked me!"

"But you don't even know how-"

The two are silenced when a sofa chair manifests to my side.

"Oh, thank goodness," I sigh, walking over it to sit myself down, "my feet are killing me."

The twins shoot a look of daggers to the man on the throne, exclaiming both at once, "PAPA!"

Dream shrugs, "I know my queen's preferences better all of you combined."

Aurora makes a face, placing a hand on her hip, "psssh, you forgot it was her birthday last time!"

"Yeah," Orion agrees, "and you only thought of giving her a gift because you saw Gadiel and I making decorations!"

"And then you decorated the whole castle yourself!" Aurora exclaims.

"Not cool," Orion ends.

Dream purses his lips at the memory, "I made sure to keep the throne room empty for you to hang your crafts."

"Papa!" she cries, "that's not the point!"

"You shouldn't have manifested decorations," Orion mumbles, "you should have made some with us!"

Dream, in all his power, was nary a match to his twins when they ganged up on him. He rubs Isra's back, pouting in thought, "you know I'm not good at crafts."

Aurora rolls her eyes as Orion shakes his head. "We can help you, papa," they say at the same time.

"You're the one who keeps telling us to practice," Orion calls.

Dream- 0.

He sighs, "I am defeated."

"Yeah," Aurora says, as though it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well," Dream says, turning his gaze from the twins, "I do hope you enjoy..." he trails off upon seeing the blissful form on the chair.

"Mama fell asleep," Aurora pouts.

Orion, catching this as well, rubs his hands together, "I can bring mama to her bed-"

"No!" Dream calls, waving his hand, doing the deed himself, "you must not attempt to do such a thing! Do you understand?!"

The twins turn to their papa, alarmed by his grave tone, "your mother is pregnant and you both are just barely capable of bringing yourselves back and forth to the Dreaming."

Orion frowns, as does his sister, "but you said you were proud of us, papa."

"I am," he says, standing from his throne as Isra sighs in his arms, "but mama is not like us, remember? She could get hurt, and your baby sibling could get hurt too."

The girl remembers something because of that. "Oh, papa!" Aurora calls, "we have something to tell you."

Dream knits his brows, "what is it?"

Aurora turns to her twin, nudging him. Orion has no clue what she is talking about. She waits a moment, makes a face, then grunts in annoyance. She decides to tell him herself, "we think mama is pregnant with twins!"

"What?!"

Orion suddenly remembers, "oh. OH! Yeah, yeah! We saw a vision about it."

Dream gulps, clutching the babe in his arms.

"Oooooooh!" Aurora calls excitedly, "I hope they're both girls!"

"NO!" Orion complains, "one of them at least has to be a boy."

"Ew no! There are enough yucky boys in this family."

"You're yucky!"

"YOU'RE YUCKY!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY A BUGGER!"

"EW!" Aurora shoves Orion, "YOU'RE PEE!"

Orion cringes, "WELL YOU'RE POOP!"

Dream rubs his face, internally planning the best way to break the whole 'carrying twins news'. He releases a breath.

"Children," the king calls, "are you sure of your vision or is it just twin propaganda?"

[perfectwitchcrown]

Make the Exorcist Fall in Love Vol 8 & 9 Covers

I previously mentioned in the tags of a separate post on literary references in ekuoto that I was curious about the boat in the background of the joint covers of volume 8 and 9. For context, here's what I'm talking about:

Like there's just a boat there. The rest seems to make sense: there's a stream of salt in the background of Dante's cover, which is a stream of sugar in Vergilius's cover. But like, what's the deal with the boat?

So it turns out that looking up the key phrase "Dante boat" was all I needed to do lmao. It's been long enough since I read Dante's Inferno that I completely forgot that Dante and Virgil travel by boat in Canto 8, and that there's actually a lot of art depicting it. In this canto Dante and Virgil travel in a boat ferried by a figure from Greek mythology, Phlegyas, across the river Styx from circle 5 of Hell (Wrath) to the city of Dis, behind which they will enter into circle 6 (heresy).

Here's one example by Eugène Delacroix:

Here's another by Gustave Doré:

So, my best guess for now is that the boat in the background is a reference to this boat! As to why the boat is important, your guess is as good as mine.

Possible reasons

Dante in the Inferno has many different moments where he's fairly sympathetic to the sinners he comes across. Not always though, and according to notes in the Hollander translation, this scene depicts "the first time in the poem that we hear an angry debate between the protagonist and one of the sinners," who he name drops as a real guy that real life Dante disliked for political reasons (Dante was a part of the White Guelph political faction whereas this guy was a member of the Black Guelph political faction. This was factionalism between what was originally a singular political group over support of the papacy. Also apparently his brother may have taken Dante's stuff when Dante got exiled) -> unsure what role this could play in Ekuoto, but this is a pretty big deal in the text and I could see it indicating some sort of later development with these characters. I could see the idea of who Dante is willing to sympathize with as being significant, both in terms of ideas of sin and factions, since we've already seen some factions in the church in Ekuoto (and I could see with some of the recent developments this only growing more prominent)

Dante and Virgil kiss on the boat -> I don't know what to say other than they kiss on the boat. You can go check Canto 8 of Inferno if you want to be sure, but I promise it happens. It's lines 43-45. In the Hollander translation: "Then my master put his arms around my neck,/kissed my face and said: 'indignant soul,/blessed is she that bore you in her womb'" (Hollander 151). I'm not super familiar with the bible but apparently (at least according to wikipedia and a quick check of an online bible) Virgil's line to Dante here is a direct quote of Luke 11:27. Now, the kiss in Dante's Inferno is platonic, medieval people were just like that. They were kissing all over the place. But I think for obvious reasons this could be significant, especially since a kiss (between Char and Vergilius w direct eye contact btw Vergilius and Dante) was part of their first "onscreen" shared scene.

Boat <3 -> honestly, this could be no deeper than the boat is a part of important art pieces and so is visually being referenced. Maybe the real boat was the friends we made along the way :)

That's all! The boat could be a reference to something else but I feel more confident that it's specifically a reference to Canto 8. I'm still unsure what the mirror is about though haha, although I may have just forgotten something, so if anyone has any thought's I'd be glad to hear them!

[oh-saints]

sweetest devotion (p.3)

serena thought she was doing her husband a favour but mason had never felt so frustrated and angry towards his wife than right now.

playboy!mason mount x princess!OC

tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience for this particular chapter

wc: 1.9k

note: sorry i fell asleep last night bcs jetlag truly sucks! i'm sorry i can't give you guys (yes you guys that left some notes on my asks 👀) a happy chapter now but i swear it'll get better next one! but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

tags: @pingyu-in-wonderland @ironmaiden1313 <3 (lmk if you wanna be added!)

<<part 2 - part 4>> sweetest devotion masterlist here

“turn it off, mase.”

elena had been holding back since before both mason and her walked out of her flat but she couldn’t take it anymore. mason’s phone had been vibrating every 30 minutes since then, and it was supposed to be their date night. out of all their weekly quality time, she looked especially forward to tonight because mason had pulled out a reservation at the most sought-after place in london, despite their usual full-booked slot.

but mason’s distracted state-of-mind wasn’t what she had the problem the most. it was the fact that he couldn’t seem to shake off the what-ifs he’d probably be having—what if he just took the call—whenever he peered over the screen of his phone and found the other woman’s name.

serena.

good god, had she never despised a name. one sentence, and it reminded her of everything she could’ve had with mason. yes, she admitted she should take some blame for being the reason why mason and serena happened in the first place—had she not broken up with mason the night he sought refuge in alcohol and night life, her boyfriend now wouldn’t have trapped himself in a loveless marriage with the princess.

fucking hell, elena hated her more because of what she was. a royal princess, no less. elana had never dreamt the day she had to compete with a princess for a man.

“what?”

mason looked up from his phone this time, done from replying to stacy because it was rare for his eldest sister to continuously ping him. but he so wished he’d kept replying to stacy because he’d never seen his girlfriend seething with anger when his attention was diverted back to the alluring lady in red.

“i was replying—”

“serena, i know,” elena folded her arms against her chest, and mason knew better than to debate an angry woman with the correct answer. “now turn it off.”

so he did, with the mind of turning it on shortly after they’d reached back to her flat.

but he never remembered.

now he had to face the reality of waking up to hundreds of texts and missed-calls from his family, mostly asking where he was. others were divided between angry texts for not picking up calls, disappointed ones too for neglecting them. but none was as striking as the last text from serena.

please pick up my call. your mother’s in critical condition.

mason didn’t even think twice as he jolted out from the bed, deserting elena behind in her drowsiness. her usual come back here, baby didn’t work much wonder this time around, his mind was too busy searching for his phone and car keys.

he was far too blinded by the worst possible scenario that could’ve happened to his beloved mother, that he didn’t even think about anything else. not even the countless violations to the traffic laws he committed just to get to the hospital—just as long as he got to his mother’s side in time, just as long as he got to see his mother doing okay.

but that also meant that he forgot about fetching serena from the house. he forgot about the existence of his wife, at least to the rest of the world, and his own marriage. he forgot about the mask he had to put on in public.

he would’ve gone straight to apologising for not getting to the hospital earlier but the sight of serena sitting amongst his sisters, even to the extent of having her arms around a sobbing stacy, clamped his mouth shut. moreover, lewis stood up, arms already folded in front of his chest, and mason had never seen lewis this angry during his short span of life so far.

lowkey, mason could feel his insides cowering because he knew he fucked up so bad—like seven shades of Sunday level of fucked up—for not picking up any calls from his family members but before he could admit his guilt and mistakes, lewis mustered his lowest baritone.

“where have you been?”

his unwavering tone basically confirmed mason’s ultimate sin. “I’m sorry I was—”

“that busy that you let your wife, a foreigner in this country, to take a midnight train to Portsmouth, a city she’s never visited?”

to say mason was surprised, was an understatement. the footballer thought his oldest brother would reprimand him about not picking up his calls when there was a dire emergency at hand.

“what were you thinking, mason mount?”

uh oh, full name was reinstated. mason badly wanted to defend himself but he couldn’t find the ground because in all honesty; what the fuck? the mounts had a worse reality to talk about—the matron of this household was still fighting for her life, for god’s sake!—and lewis wanted to cover other bases instead of the most important thing right now? instead of filling him in about the conditions of their mother?

mason badly, very badly wanted to disclose that he wasn’t responsible for serena’s well-being. like, if she wanted to come it was because she can. not because he asked her, and he would never ask her because he’d very much keep his family away from the impending doom that’d befallen them as soon as the contract expired.

but he kept his mouth shut. partially because he didn’t want to dishonour the agreement between serena and him—because mason would very much prefer to find faults in serena’s stance to this agreement, instead of his own fault—but mostly because he was so mad. how could lewis defend someone he barely knew and accuse mason of something that was out of his control?

“lewis,” serena spoke up gently, as usual. if mason wasn’t blinded with rage towards the said princess, he would’ve admired how regal she was behaving, despite the unspoken chaos blanketing the waiting room. “I think beranting Mason is not necessary,”

the older brother turned his head towards her, asking confirmation if he was hearing her right.

“he must’ve fallen asleep at the coach’s house,” serena continued, giving lewis some sort of reassurance probably that mason wasn’t deserting her behind and that she wasn’t lying about his alibi. “mason overtrains himself lately with both physical and visual training.”

mason would’ve expressed his gratitude behind the scene—why she lied for him, he’d never known—if the woman wasn’t enticing more anger inside of him. always trying to save a fucking face, mason groaned inwardly.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

the midfielder stayed put in the long hallway of the pristine white hospital, deciding not to join the rest of the family on his mother’s side. the wife to his dad for decades had been rolled to her room since hours ago but mason didn’t think he had the capacity not to snap in front of everyone.

especially when serena was the midst of his family, acting as if she belonged there when mason kept the information himself. that she was only doing that to save her face, like she’d been doing since the beginning. since the first time she trapped mason into her loveless marriage arrangement.

mason was only too blind to recognise it.

but now that he noticed all the red flags, mason didn’t want his family to fall into the same blackhole.

“you should break up with her.”

mason’s body jumped slightly at jasmine’s voice, certainly shocked his older sister joining him to oversee the boring central garden of the hospital. “but I’m married to serena.”

“you’re smarter than to miss my point, mase,” jasmine chortled sarcastically. “break up with your mistress.”

jasmine’s gaze might be staring the distance, as if the night scenery was fun and pretty, but her words succeeded pouring mason ice cold water over his head. “what do you mean, jaz?”

“don’t play dumb with me,” the ice was now stabbing mason’s heart because jasmine was always the warmer one between them. she was being ruthlessly cold and distant and her tone was so level it scared him. “dad raised you better than to keep a mistress. it never ends well and we all know she’s always up to no good.”

how could jaz be the judge of one’s personality, when she’d never met elena before? what did she know about elena?

mason gritted his teeth out of annoyance. “I can’t do that.”

“you can’t do that to serena, either. it’s not fair.”

serena again? did the princess pull off some black magic over his family or something? why did everybody suddenly care for her instead of him, their flesh and blood? how come no one in his side went to care for him now?

fucking hell, mason had never desired to scream out loud. at anyone, but preferably at his own kin. “lately, I think life’s never fair to me, too.”

“life’s never fair to anyone, mason mount,” mason had never been called by full name twice in a night from different older siblings of his. if stacy decided to do the same in the next hour, mother nature should give mason a prize or something for hitting a homerun. “when are you going to learn that?”

“why are you siding with serena?”

“I am not,” jasmine’s eyebrows distorted in disbelief. “I swear I’m not siding with anyone here, but you really should start thinking like a father. your baby’s coming in less than 6 months, do you think what you’re doing right now is fair to your baby?”

the older took the following silence as a sign she’d nailed the coffin. which could only mean her job here was done and over with.

“jaz,” but mason’s call halted her straying steps from him. “how do you know?”

“you reek of cheap perfume, mase.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while jasmine’s words rang true in his ears, it still didn’t soothe his anger and annoyance towards the woman sitting shotgun beside him, as he cruised his Lamborghini in the direction back to London.

“why did you come here?”

serena immediately decided she’d choose a cocky mason over this version of him. “I thought—”

“see, that’s your problem. you think,” mason raise a decibel to his voice and serena flinched visibly because she wasn’t used to anyone raising their voice at her. it was rather off-limit to the royal’s etiquette. “but every time you think, you only think for your own good. you never think about what I think or what’s best for us.”

serena was rather taken aback at mason’s outburst that she couldn’t produce any response to him.

“have you ever thought you can jeopardise our false pretence by coming here alone?”

“no, I—”

“exactly!” serena flinched away from mason as the footballer hit the steering wheel out of frustration and anger. “so don’t ever fucking think again, you got me?”

suddenly her fingers looked so much interesting than ever before. “I’m sorry, mason.”

“you better fucking be,” mason sighed deeply. “if you still want to live.”

how could serena possibly have a decent reply when he reminded her that she was on the losing end?

next chapter contains:

“mason…” his lover whimpered, trying to reach for mason but the man only shook her hands away and stood up, towering her over. “surely you’re mistaken, we can talk about this–” “leave.”

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Part Two]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler,

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3582

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: I have this idea for a while but I’ve been deep in my marauders series so I’ve put it off. Is any of it written? NAH but it’ll be coming

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

It was astounding how someone so young could have their life ripped away so suddenly and yet no one seemed to know how. In fact if Austin hadn't been so frustrated by the whole thing he probably would have found it sad. After collecting what evidence they could from the apartment they had done a sweep of the building, knocking on doors and asking its residents if they had seen anything that may help their investigation. All they had got in return was the same sentiments; Tony was a nice but quiet guy who kept to himself and never caused any trouble. And each and every one of them had given the same answer verbatim that on the night Tony was killed, which the coroner had established to be the thirtieth, they had not seen or heard anything. 

Now this may have been true because the coroner had said that whilst he couldn't be sure the definite time but he guessed sometime in the early morning which could explain why no one saw anything but from the amount of curtain twitching that went on around this town he wasn’t sure how anyone could possibly have missed a gunshot. But if people had heard it and were choosing to ignore a crime of this magnitude it only supported the theory running around the precinct.

He had thought John had been exaggerating when it came to the ‘Memphis Mafia’. Of course he knew that most cities had their mob problems but Memphis wasn’t exactly repping the levels of New York or Chicago. Which was probably why he wasn’t aware of the undercurrent that ran through downtown Memphis hidden behind the façade of music clubs and suave bars. Whilst John had told him about the reputation of Kings Bar and others under the same management his other colleagues had elaborated informing him with a certain amount of glee that this case was unsolvable especially if this had anything to do with the boss, Elvis Presley.

It had been a name Austin had vaguely recalled; a rising star some fifteen years previous who had burned out shortly after joining the draft. Unfortunately his fellow detectives had relished in getting him up to speed. Apparently after leaving the army the singer had found himself at a loss, his allure now dwindled in favour of the music of the swinging sixties. So unable to gain any traction in the mainstream he’d turned his sights on Memphis, buying up a run-down bar and turning into an arena for the music scene of the city. His own name was enough to draw people in and it had quite the reputation on the strip for being a good night out. Yet as business had boomed his notoriety had gained a different sort of traction and his good reputation had become debatable. It didn’t help that he had an egregious partner running half the show, a toad of a man called the Colonel whose own criminal past was just as questionable, or that he chose to staff his establishment with a gang of his cronies. Soon enough they’d gained a name and rap sheets to match with offences like racketeering, intimidation and bribery topping the list. There was also the rumour going around the office that their newest venture was using their many clubs to fence narcotics but the drug squad had yet to have any traction with that notion.

Not that it mattered. As Elvis Presley had gained notoriety he had also gained powerful friends. He knew people local government, the celebrities of Memphis and most importantly members of their fine establishment.

‘You might as well give up now,’ Robert Johnson, a fellow homicide detective had said as he’d appeared at the side of his desk where Austin had been pouring over his files. He didn’t particularly like Robert, even though he was the only one in the department remotely close to his age, because he had this air of smugness about him Austin didn’t gel with. And as he continued to speak Austin could see it glinting there behind his brown eyes.

‘What?’ Austin asked irritably.

‘This case,’ he said, sitting on the piles of photos on the desk.

‘And why is that?’ Austin challenged.

‘Because it’s unsolvable. Ain’t no one gonna speak out now they know it’s one of the Kings guys,’ he snorted. Austin had to clench his jaw, the vein in his neck throbbing in irritation.

‘A man has been murdered,’ he reasoned.

‘Yeah and if it has anything to do with his work friends bet your life no one saw or knew nothing. They run a tight ship you know. They’ve flown under the radar for worse,’ Robert said.

‘Well maybe it’s time they did get caught for something,’ Austin said, pulling his files from under the man’s backside with a grunt. Robert rolled his eyes, ‘and who’s going to prosecute them? The chief of police who gave Presley an honorary badge last year? Or the mayor who held a ceremony in his honour due to contributions to the city namely a fat stack of cash.’

‘They’re not the only people who run Memphis,’ Austin countered.

‘No, Presley and Parker do a pretty good job of that too,’ Robert said.

That was why he was sitting outside the bar yet again. He’d already been there once hoping that the patrons or workers would have some information on what had happened to Tony last Thursday given he had been working that night. But just like it had been with his neighbours it was a fruitless endeavour. His workmates had told him nothing was out of the ordinary that night and Tony had left on time after his shift. They hadn’t even felt under pressure when he’d enquired about him not showing up for work, suspicion weighing heavily in his tone, instead they simply cited that they’d assumed he had left town something that wasn’t out of the ordinary in their line of work, their service jobs apparently resembling that of a revolving door. So he didn’t know what he was hoping for now and as he climbed out of his Ford Mustang shutting the squeaky door he sighed. Kings was an old brick building on an intersecting corner of Beale Street. The outside of it was pretty plain, the blacked-out windows revealing nothing to the passersby but inside was a different story.

Every inch of the place was swathed in dark colours with leathers, silk and dark woods being the favoured choices for decoration. He supposed he could see the appeal should one want to frequent the infamous Beale street. It didn’t look too impressive now but at night, when the sunlight didn’t stream in through the windows and the lights were kept low he could imagine it had an aura to it only enhanced by the low chatter of patrons and the swirling of cigar smoke in the air. Of course at noon that aura wasn’t present and it kind of felt disjointed with the fluorescents, the daylight odd and jarring but it still had a presence to it. A notoriety.

Maybe that just stemmed from the way people took note of him the second he walked through the door, curious glances following him as he walked towards the bar looking around to see if he recognised anyone. There were a couple of older men in a booth in the back and a young guy standing at the far end of the bar. From what he could tell the guy seemed to be the bartender, hinted at by the dish cloth strewn over his shoulder, but he didn’t initiate anything. Even when Austin offered a small smile he didn’t respond, his eyes merely narrowing with suspicion. Unfortunately he wasn’t spared from the scrutiny as a man came out from a back door at that very moment taking him in roughly. He was quite tall, not much older than Austin if he had to guess, though he looked more weathered, his ruddy skin and receding red hair not lending itself the youthful air Austin still had in his thirties. 

Still scrutiny or not Austin put his best foot forward, offering the man an easy-going smile as he said, ‘hello.’

‘Can I help you?’ the man replied gruffly. Austin supposed he should’ve been thankful he wanted to get the chase but that meant he wouldn’t be able to angle the conversation as he wanted.

‘Uh yeah actually,’ Austin said straightening up, ‘I uh I stopped by the other day I had a couple more questions. I was just wondering if anyone else would be free to talk to me.’

‘Questions about?’ the man asked impatiently.

‘Tony Bowen,’ Austin said, ‘your employee.’

‘Oh him,’ the man said, his eyes flitting around the bar. They landed on a woman who was sitting at the other end of the bar but before Austin could follow his gaze he snapped his attention back and said, ‘you’re the detective right.’

‘Yeah, Detective Butler,’ he said, moving his jacket out of the way of the badge on his hip so that it flashed for a second, glinting under the harsh lights as he asked, ‘and you are?’ 

‘Red West,’ the man replied, ‘look, we already told you what we know.’

‘I know I was just wondering if anyone else could share anything. I thought having a couple of days to think might help jog a few memories,’ Austin said simply.

‘Memories like what?’ Red asked.

‘Well Tony worked here nearly eighteen months all told and no one seems to know much about him,’ Austin started, easing into his suspicions gently.

‘He kept to himself,’ Red replied and Austin had to fight to keep his face neutral even though he was wondering if that was the official company slogan at this point.

‘Really?’ he pressed gently, ‘because it kinda seems like a tight knit group here. Hard to imagine him not being friends with someone.’

‘Are you friends with everyone you work with?’ he countered. Austin offered him a tight smile but said nothing, hoping his silence would be enough to bleed something out of this stone of a man, ‘look he was some kid from the sticks of Florida who came here lookin’ for a job. We gave him one.’

‘And what was his job?’ Austin asked. When he’d first asked he’d been told Tony was a busboy or waiter, but before that he’d been questioning regular patrons who’d stated they’d hardly ever seen the boy working out front. He was always coming and going, ‘part of the entourage’ one had told him though he wasn’t sure what that call for.

‘Worked the bar,’ Red replied.

‘And what does that entail?’ Austin asked.

‘Whatever he was needed to do,’ Red replied, his soft jaw clenching in indignation as Austin eyed him dubiously, a scrutiny he was no doubt unaccustomed to these days even if he did relent to elaborate, ‘haulin’ crates and bussin’ tables.’

‘And he always worked inside the bar?’ Austin asked, already knowing that couldn’t be true.

‘That’s his job idn’t it,’ the man replied tersely, ‘look he came. He went. He didn’t cause any trouble. What else do you want me to say?’

‘He obviously caused someone some trouble,’ Austin countered.

‘Yeah well it ain’t nuthin’ to do with us at Kings so take your lil questions elsewhere,’ Red replied. Austin watched as he came towards him, flipping the bar flap over until it crashed unceremoniously in front of the detective before he pushed past him and out into the high sun.

Austin could feel eyes on him now though it was mostly patrons, the bartender having disappeared into the back at some point in their conversation. He half wondered if he had gone to get someone to remove him, back up should Austin cause any trouble. Yet as he sighed and turned to leave he heard a small voice say, ‘excuse me.’

When he turned it was the woman he’d not managed to get a proper look at. She was sitting on a stool at the end of the bar, her legs crossed elegantly over one another as though she was waiting rather than sitting there to be served. She was pretty, extremely so, soft pale skin complimenting rich chocolate coloured hair and dazzling blue eyes. In fact she looked like the epitome of a club patron even at this early hour, a short black dress ghosting along her thighs offset by the outlandishly large fur she was wearing. Given that it was knocking on eighty degrees he almost felt the urge to laugh but then it occurred to him that in here it was quite chilly something he hadn’t noticed it before.

‘Can I help you?’ Austin asked, realising he’d been staring far too long and she was now watching him unsurely.

‘Sorry to pry but I couldn’t help overhear,’ she said apologetically, ‘I just wondered who you were talking about?’

‘Uh, Tony Bowen,’ Austin replied, figuring it couldn’t hurt to cast his net any further seeing as his current capture was barren.

‘What about him?’ she asked quietly.

‘He was murdered Thursday night,’ Austin replied, watching a flicker of sadness come across her face though like everyone else in this place he recovered well offering little more than a, ‘oh that’s just awful.’

‘Did you know him?’ Austin asked.

‘What?’ the woman shifted nervously and then shrugged, ‘oh no, I don’t think so but it’s just such a tragedy isn’t it.’

‘Yeah one I’m not getting far with admittedly,’ Austin said, earning a sad smile.

‘Well I hope you manage to find something,’ she said, slipping from her stool and standing up, smoothing out her fur coat as she grabbed her petite purse from the countertop.

‘Thanks uh,’ Austin said realising he hadn't even gotten her name yet but she didn’t return it, already hurriedly swinging her bag onto her shoulder and moving around the bar as she murmured, ‘would you excuse me.’

Austin watched as she disappeared into the back room. He was inclined to wait for her but when the bartender returned, a scowl on his face he got the impression he’d long outstayed his welcome and headed back out to his car.

But when he got there he didn’t feel like going back to the precinct. Everyone knew where he’d been granted because most of them had told him not to bother, even John who despite being partnered with him on this case seemed to be happy to let the trail run cold in light of the overlap with the dubbed ‘Memphis Mafia’. Austin knew he was probably being foolhardy. That he was stirring a pot he probably shouldn’t get involved with but he wasn’t just going to stand by and bury his head in the sand just because it was risky. Just because of who Tony had been involved with did that not mean he deserved justice? Did his grandma, a woman who had sobbed down the phone to him for half an hour upon receiving the grim news, not deserve to know what happened to her grandson? Did the ‘mafia’ just get a pass because it was too much of an effort to try and get involved? No.

So, with that in mind he decided to do another sweep of Tony’s apartment. Sure, eye witnesses were getting him nowhere but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still other evidence to find. After all, even in an absence of evidence Tony’s home had shared a story. Maybe there was more to it to be found.

The apartment was just as barren as he’d left it though admittedly the smell had improved somewhat. The blood stain had long since dried but he wasn’t sure if it was that or the absence of a body that made it seem smaller somehow. In fact with just him in here now without the foot traffic from the sheriff's office it felt bigger now, lonelier. Just like his apartment did when he sloped in after a gruelling shift, the sound of the TV still not enough to shut out the thoughts whirring around in his brain.

He wondered if Tony had felt lonely in here. The lack of any art or personality on the wall made it feel like it was possible. Then again the absence of people in his life, or at least the absence of those willing to admit to knowing him, made it feel that way too. How could his grandmother be the only one who seemed to know or at least speak to him. How could no one pin down what role he had played in a company for nigh on a year and a half. It begged belief.

Austin moved around the room rifling through drawers but finding nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing in his medicine cabinet of note, merely a few band aids and a bottle of aspirin which he’d expect to find in any young person’s apartment. His mail, which John had so painstakingly gone through, didn’t hint at any trouble such as aggrieved parties or owed debts. In fact the only thing that took Austin’s interest was the handful of condoms in his nightstand though Tony was young and working at a club so that didn’t exactly scream concrete lead if anything it probably hinted at more than one lead entering Tony’s life for a very short-term basis.

Eventually he turned his attention to the bookcase. There wasn’t much on it but it was where most of Tony’s personal possessions lived. There was a stack of records next to a player which Austin thumbed through finding the boy to be a fan of Sinatra and Dean Martin. There was a shelf full of books, mostly sci-fi novels though they looked in good condition, the spines not even cracked which gave him the impression they were a gift he’d no intention of starting to go through or he was too busy to get around to it, which posed the question of what he was doing instead of reading. Trinkets cluttered the rest of the gaps. Old baseball trophies, a clock, a plant. Nothing out of the ordinary just like the photo frame that was nestled on a top shelf. It wasn’t very big but it was visible from where Austin had perched himself on the arm of the chair so he stood and picked it up looking at the photo encapsulated inside the silver frame. It was of an older woman and a young boy and it looked as though whoever had taken the picture had caught the pair off guard as the woman was sitting in a lawn chair with the boy standing between her legs, nestled into her as if they’d been hugging before he’d had to turn his torso towards the camera. He looked as though he’d been crying, his eyes red and puffy, but his smile was present. Behind him the woman was beaming a smile, her hand on the boy's hip as if to reassure him she was still there.

Tony and his grandmother, Austin reckoned as he smiled. It was nice to put a face to the name, nicer still to think of her like this instead of the sobbing wreck she had been when they’d interacted. And above all it was nice to know this young guy actually had someone in his life who cared for him. 

With a sigh Austin moved to put it back but as he did he felt something flutter past his fingers on the back of the frame. As he placed it on the shelf he noted a piece of paper had fallen to the ground in front of him onto the beige carpet. He bent down and picked it up, turning it to face him.

It was another photo, well a photo strip, and each individual picture showed Tony and a woman. Except this one was not a photo of grandmotherly affection. Each picture showed the pair nestled up in a photobooth, laughing and joking until they were entangled in one another, lips locked for the camera to snap away at. Austin felt excitement run through him at the thought of a lead. Who was she and more importantly where did she fit in with Tony’s life.

The woman with him was young with shoulder length brown hair and a sleek figure clad in a chic satin dress. In one frame she had her eyes closed and her cherry red lips pressed to Tony’s cheek. No one had mentioned a girlfriend before. Of course Tony had been in town eighteen months and this girl could’ve been anything; merely one date or an old girlfriend back in Gainesville. That might explain why it was tucked behind a photo frame, hidden from view but still accessible may the longing to spark a memory come.

Still without a name or hint at who she was, it didn't really help Austin. Though as he stared at the picture he couldn’t help but feel like he did know her. Then again how many women did he see day to day. If he could just place where he’d seen her maybe that’d help. Then all of a sudden it clicked and he slipped the photo into his back pocket, the picture of the woman on Tony’s lap and a sitting elegantly on barstool merging into one.

‘Didn’t know him my ass,’ Austin whispered.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab

@i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

[imtooscaredforthis]

Antagonist

Chapter Twenty Seven: Fixed

Mentions of: Drug use, Themes of Depression, Canon Typical Violence, etc.

A/N: Spoiling you guys because I’ve been dead the past few months (and probably will continue to be dead) LMAO

Tags: @prettycutebunny @dead-bxxxxtch-walking @vandeaad @mama-miya

You sighed softly as you lit the blunt between your lips. Things between you and Leon haven’t gotten any better. In fact, they just seem like they’ve become worse, with both of you avoiding each other. Lately, you haven’t really felt like talking to anyone. Even though the other survivors are going through the same thing as you, it felt like they didn’t understand. No one did.

When you weren’t in a trial, you were here, smoking and trying to numb the emptiness you felt inside. As time dragged on, you felt more alone, the hole inside only getting bigger and bigger.

So you were surprised when you heard a knock at your door. You debated answering it, wanting to be left alone, but you were also curious about who it could be.

It was Frank. Right as you were about to slam your door in his face, he moved his foot in the way he pushed the door aside, stepping inside.

“Get the fuck out!” You snapped, angry that he was forcing his way inside.

He ignored you, shutting the door behind him. He plucked the blunt from your lips, taking a deep drag and settling on the bean bag chair. He took a deep inhale, and then he spoke.

“Listen, I’m tired of this being mad and ignoring each other shit, okay? I just want to talk. I’m sorry for what I said before, and how I acted.” He took another hit, letting out a deep sigh before speaking again. “I was a real asshole, and everything you said was right. I think I was just acting that way because..because I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. But I know getting out of here is the best thing for you, so I want to help.”

Your expression softened, your anger melting away. You reached over and took the blunt from him.

“Thanks, but you were right too. I don’t think I’ll ever be leaving this shit hole. It was stupid of me to hope I had a chance. I was being crazy.” You laid back on your bed, taking a hit and watching as the smoke curled above your lips.

“So, that’s it? You’re giving up?” He frowned. You shrugged.

Frank had seen this time and time again in survivors. Despair. Nothing left to keep them going. When they got like that, it wouldn’t be long until they were never seen again. Some said that they would die for real in trials, others said that they would be sent away to the void, serving no more purpose to The Entity.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. So, he got to his feet and took the joint from you again. He threw it onto the floor, putting it out with his boot.

“Hey-”

“Enough of this mopey pity party bullshit. We’re going back to the Blight’s realm, we’re going to get that serum and we’re going to get your locket back. Now come on.” He offered you his hand. You took it, letting him help you to your feet.

–

Once the coast was clear, you followed Frank into the Blight’s hideout. This time, you were able to locate the syringe easily. But you couldn’t find your locket. What did he want from it? Why did he take it? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you found it, hopefully in one piece. It was one of the few things that helped you feel close to your sister, and without it, you felt empty.

Frank called out your name in a hushed shout and you didn’t even have to look to know. He was here. You could hear his groans as he charged back to his home, dashing quickly. You took cover, hiding underneath one of the lab tables, while Frank hid in the corner, standing next to the doorway.

With an inhuman growl, he wandered around his home. He threw down his bottles on a nearby table, causing you to flinch. You nudged the table above you slightly, and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. You held your breath as he got close, feeling your heart racing so fast you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

Droplets of iridescent drool stained the floor in front of you, making you wince in disgust and a bony hand reached underneath the table. Right before his finger could even nudge your nose, there was a crash in the distance. Frank had taken one of his bottles and thrown it into the woods, distracting him. He had saved you.

“Hurry.” He whispered, once The Blight had left. You searched frantically, before seeing a glint in the corner of your eye. There it was, in good condition. Relieved, you grabbed it and put it on. But the relief only lasted so long, since the next thing you knew, The Blight was rushing back and Frank was screaming at you to run.

You vaulted a broken window, Frank following quickly behind. Before he could get all the way through, The Blight grabbed his leg, tugging him back. You grabbed Frank’s arm, pulling him forward.

“Let him go, you fucking freak!” You screamed at the hissing creature. Frank tried to elbow him, but he hardly reacted. So you had no other choice but to grab the serum you were keeping in your pocket, jamming it into the monster’s arm, causing him to squeal and release him.

You hauled him through the window, sprinting through the woods, not stopping or letting him go until the coast was clear. Once it was, you let him go and sat on the ground. You were exhausted, your lungs burned, and your legs hurt. You lied back. He lied beside you.

“Are you okay?” You asked between pants, gazing over at him.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah. That asshole made me lose the serum, though.”

“About that. I actually was able to snag some. I knew with how things went last time, we were going to need a backup.” He pulled out an extra vial from his coat pocket.

You stared at him in shock, before throwing your arms around him. “Holy shit. We did it!”

He laughed softly, hugging you back. It took you a second to realize what you were doing, and who you were with, but once you did, you pulled away quickly, like you’d been burned.

You cleared your throat, unable to keep eye contact with him. “This is great, Frank. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Yeah. It’s good to be friends again.” He admitted.

“It is.”

You smiled at each other for a beat, before Frank broke the silence and the eye contact. “So, uh, what are we going to do now?”

“We test it out and see what we can do.”

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Wild Hare

Ship: Jack Torrance x Gabriel Diamond [Childhood Friends AU]

Word Count: 709

Summary: I've debated on posting this but it felt important to this AU. That being said, dead dove / do not eat. There is a scene in the book version of The Shining detailing a flashback to Jack's childhood in which his own father brutally attacks his mother at the dinner table. I don't remember how old it's implied he is in the flashback, but for the purposes of this AU Jack and Gabriel are both teenagers. This oneshot takes place immediately after the attack; Jack runs from home and finds himself in the arms of the only person he's ever felt really understood him, Gabriel Diamond. CWs for themes of domestic abuse, brief mentions of food and blood.

Tag List: @canongf

Jack’s heartbeat thundered in his ears as his socked feet pounded over manicured lawns and against the concrete paths laid beside them. Fear vaulted him over fences and around sheds, his muscles burning, lungs choked for a full breath. He didn’t know where he was going until he was trembling in Gabriel’s arms.

Gabriel had been sitting on his back porch, enjoying the summer evening and blowing bubbles to pass the time, when his partner had thrown himself over the chainlink fence with surprising agility for the speed he was moving at and crashed into his lap.

The plastic bottle of bubble solution tipped on its side, spilling over the wood as Gabriel dropped the accompanying wand, arms instinctively moving to catch and support Jack as he fell. He was sobbing and yelling incomprehensibly, his eyes wide with evident panic.

“Jack, Jack, what happened?? Shh, shh, you’re okay, you’re okay…” Gabriel rambled, pressing his hands firmly down Jack’s back in an effort to bring him back to reality. He’d never seen him in such a state. “Johnny, look at me.” He rarely used the diminutive of Jack’s legal name, but it was the only thing he could think of to get his attention.

Hyperventilating, Jack forced himself to look up at Gabriel, who held his jaw firmly and lovingly. “You gotta tell me what happened or I can’t help you…” Gabriel frowned deeply. “Oh, you’re a mess, let me get you a clean shirt, I think I’ve still got your spirit sweatshirt here… don’t move, alright?”

Swallowing hard, Jack shifted himself to sit on the steps of the porch, avoiding the sticky puddle forming beside them, while Gabriel stood and went inside. He glanced down at his shirt and swallowed again. Flecks of food and blood had dashed him. He groaned and buried his face in his hands, stomach reeling. Gabriel’s hand was on his shoulder. He took off his flannel and put on the sweatshirt he was handed, then reluctantly drank the cool water from the glass placed in his palm. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to keep it down, though he somehow had managed to hold onto what little of his dinner he had finished.

“Don’t tell anybody.” It was the first thing he could mumble to Gabriel, his tongue and teeth not feeling like his own.

“What happened?” Gabriel repeated.

“He beat her. Badly, so badly, this time…”

“Who, Jack??”

“He took his cane and he… that goddamned sonovabitch…”

“Jack…?”

Jack grabbed Gabriel’s shoulders. “My mama’s hurt badly, Gabriel, I don’t know if she’ll make it this time.”

Gabriel paled. “Your father…” Jack nodded, looking away from him. “We should call 911, just to get her some help—”

“No! No. I don’t want to get anyone involved, it’ll just make it worse.”

Sympathetic tears welled up in Gabriel’s eyes as he placed a comforting hand on Jack’s cheek. “Oh, Jack… I’m so sorry… what can I… do you want to stay here…?”

Jack hugged him tightly. His mind was clearing, but fear still filled every part of him. “Yes,” he whispered into Gabriel’s hair.

“Alright… alright… come inside, I’ll explain everything to my dad. You just go lay down in my room, try to… take your mind off things.” Gabriel rubbed his back, then led him inside. Absently, Jack stumbled to his room while Gabriel found his father. He knew Jack had a difficult home life, but they hadn’t spoke about it much, so he tried to explain as best he could. Luckily, his father was willing to accommodate Jack for the time being. Jack curled into a fetal position on Gabriel’s bed while Gabriel set up a sleeping bag on the floor.

“My dad’s fine with you sleeping in here… I won’t make you sleep on the floor, I’m just doing this for looks. We don’t have to talk, but I’m here to listen if you need me. You want anything…?”

“More water,” Jack croaked. Gabriel nodded, left the room and came back again with another glass of water. He half-closed the door and placed the glass on his bedside table before laying down beside Jack, who pulled him tightly against him, burying his face in his chest. I want to go home.

[fyodoro]

HII! i've been into dance moms lately help😭 can i req akito , toya, and rui (separatly) w a fem s/o who was on dance moms? if u dont wanna write this thats ok hehe have a good day!

-> 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞!

You felt a lot of indifference towards your past position, but they’re always there to tell you you’re more than your past

With Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi and Rui Kanishiro

Cw! Mentions of past trauma, yelling, implied past anxiety attacks, self sabotage (kinda), you punch rui!!!! | fluff (akito’s), comfort (toya’s), Angst to fluff (rui’s)

Akito Shinonome

When Akito first met you, he knew he’s seen you somewhere before. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, but knew you were a familiar face. It wasn’t until one fateful day Ena woke up earlier than usual and put something on the family TV.

He recognized your face instantly, and everything fell into place. ‘You looked so familiar because Ena would watch you all the time on TV.’

A scoff escaped the ginger’s lips, how could he forget that? Although, you have changed quite a bit since you stopped appearing on the show. The version of you practicing on the television now is so tiny compared to who you are now. Both mentally and physically.

“You’ve been a little too interested in Dance Moms Akito, you feeling okay?” Ena said teasingly. It’s not often she saw her brother paying attention to something like that.

“I’m fine. Hey- does it really matter what I watch and don’t watch?” Ena laughed at his remark, brushing him off and sending him to the Cheesecake shop they both like to pick a slice up for her.

The younger rolled his eyes in annoyance at her request, but did so anyway. At least he could get a slice for himself.

The walk was just like any other, gripping the money tightly in his pocket and only focusing on his destination. Well, that was Akito’s main focus. Coincidentally, he just so happened to see your face in the crowd. It took him a moment to recognize that it was the current you. After all, he just finished watching your younger self on an old show.

There was a silent debate in his head on whether he should go up to you or not. ‘Wouldn’t that be creepy?’ He thought. But it’s not like he’s a stranger to you… you couldn’t mind too much, right? Before he could finish the debate, the boy found himself walking your way already.

“Oh, Akito? I didn’t know you came around these parts. What’s up?” The small smile on your face felt a little forced, but Akito paid no mind to it.

“I could say the same to you, I didn’t think someone like you would come to such a crowded area.”

His words rang in your head a bit, ‘someone like me?’ You thought. While you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew what he was talking about. ‘I guess I can’t keep it a secret for too long to anyone.’

“Oh well you know, it’s been so long since I dropped out the show. Not many people recognize me anymore. Which actually, I’m pretty grateful for.” You said. While you liked the attention for a bit, it got overwhelming fast. Learning how to keep up with fake fronts to strangers was exhausting, though Akito didn’t seem to mind the natural you.

“Yeah, I only realized it was you when my sister put one of your episodes on earlier. But it’s cool, you’re still (Name) at the end of the day.”

Something about his words were comforting. At the end of the day, you were just a regular person. It felt nice to have someone acknowledge that without putting you on a pedestal.

“Hey, where were you heading?” You asked. Partly out of genuine curiosity, and partly out of wishful thinking. Maybe you can tag along with him.

“The bakery, I’m picking up some cheesecake for me and my sister. She sends me on these errands a lot.” He scratched the back of his head a bit. One thing you both had in common? Keeping up a fake appearance in front of certain people.

“Oh, I know the bakery your talking about, I love it there! Can I come with you, perhaps?” Honestly, you just wanted to get out of the crowded plaza. Otherwise if someone recognized you here, you’d be too exhausted to do anything for the rest of the day.

Akito didn’t mind one bit. He sensed some desperation in your voice, and assumed what you were thinking. There was a mutual understanding that both of you were trying to make yourselves look good right now.

He wouldn’t mind getting to know the other side of your personality a lot better.

Toya Aoyagi

Toya wouldn’t have known who you were until An pointed it out. He wasn’t aloud much television or internet access as a kid, and when he was, it was always monitored. So to say he was clueless would be an understatement.

It didn’t help that An was so casual about it, just casually saying;

“You see that student? They were on this show I used to watch as a kid, Dance Moms, isn’t it so cool she goes to our school?”

When Toya hears this, he thinks it might have been an idol show, and you were a former idol. It wouldn’t be anything new for An to be so normal about being acquainted with a popular figure. The dual hair boy let his curiosity get the best of him and looked up this… “Dance Moms.”

He only watched the episodes you were in, trying to understand where your coming from and what made you so special. Though when he finished, he felt more worried about you than he’d have liked.

Watching you get screamed at over messing up precise steps, seeing you get belittled to put other dancers up, it looked traumatic. He could understand why you dropped out of the show, the experience didn’t seem like a pleasant one.

The next day, seeing you in the halls felt… different. He just watched a big chunk of your childhood, and now he has to act like he doesn’t know a thing about you. Surely you wouldn’t like to be talked to cause you were on such a exploiting show as a kid? With each passing period, he noticed you more and more.

But seeing you alone throughout the day made the boy feel bad. Did you choose to be alone? Did others avoid you because of how they watched you get screamed at so much as a kid? He wasn’t sure. But he was sure something in him made him take a seat next to you on a bench.

The silence was awkward and the tension felt thick. ‘I definitely should have thought this through.’ He thinks. He clears his throat, getting ready to speak before you ended up speaking first.

“What do you want? Come here to tell me how bad of a dancer I was on that show?” Your voice was laced with disgust, emphasizing that disgust even more when you mentioned “that show.”

While Toya was no expert on dancing, he knew that your dancing wasn’t bad at all. Sure, you might have screwed up a few moves. But didn’t everyone? Yours just so happened to get more shunned than any others did.

“No, actually. I’ve seen you alone a lot, and everyone could use some company.” He said sincerely. He knew bringing up your status wasn’t a good idea, and avoided mentioning it. You appreciated that, but only a bit.

You looked frustrated. ‘Why would you be frustrated?’ He thinks to himself. He would understand being upset, or even a bit annoyed. But frustration felt like an odd emotion to feel in this situation. To him, at least.

“You’re just going to try and get close to me, get a little bit popular, and leave with that popularity. That’s what they all do, I assume you’re no different from them. Maybe your double colored hair represents how two faced you are.” That’s a bold claim…

He began piecing the puzzle together. You were always alone because you distanced yourself from everyone, and you had a fear. It made sense now, the fear of being used was a scary one to him. At the same time, he wants you to see having real friends is important, much better than being alone.

“In that case, could I prove to you I’m not… ‘two-faced’?” He asked. You almost choked on your spit at that. Why would he want to prove anything to you?

“If you try hard enough, maybe. I can’t be fooled easily by whatever your going to do.” There was a trace of amusement in your voice, as if this was the first time you’ve heard a funny joke. But with that amusement also came bitterness.

Toya made a pact with himself, and a silent pact with you. He would do whatever it took to show you having friends isn’t so bad, as long as you find the real ones. And he’s okay with being your first real friend.

Rui Kamishiro

Rui was sure he was mistaken. Someone so talented- popular- someone with such a clean reputation… wants to be with him? He couldn’t believe it.

For a moment, he thought of putting distance between the two of you. Someone like you shouldn’t be around someone like him. People would surely get the wrong idea, and then you’d lose everything. He didn’t want that for you, not at all.

The best way to avoid that outcome?

Distancing himself.

The tall alchemist almost felt like he was in junior high again. The way he pushed you away was all too familiar to the way he pushed Nene away, and he hated it. But, this was for your own good.

At least, that’s what he wanted to believe.

He found it difficult to keep you away. After class ends, you’re always running up to him with lit up eyes. It was a subtle part of his day that he didn’t realize he loved so much, he missed it.

Now he had to ignore that light and walk directly to the next class. It hurt, but he paid no mind to it. You were probably doing just as well, if not, better, without him.

Though that wasn’t the case at all.

In your eyes, Rui had left you alone in the dark. There was no explanation for the sudden cut off, there was no sign of it beforehand. It had you running in circles in your mind. ‘What could I have possibly done?’ You thought.

You attempted to confront him, multiple times in fact. But every time he sees you, he scurries away hastily. Apart of you wanted to slap him across the face, but the other part just wanted to break down in front of him and beg for an explanation.

You two were practically best friends before all this. He helped you out of being crowded by old fans and was like a bodyguard at times. Rui never cared about the person you used to be, he only cared about the person you are now. It meant a lot to you.

But now it seems he’s forgotten all about that.

You needed to corner him if you wanted an explanation. He had to be alone with no excuse to just “go away.” You just had to catch him at that perfect time. Even if it takes awhile, you’ll wait as long as you need for him.

A few days went by with 0 luck. The only time you saw an opening, he started messing with two underclassmen. One looked like he was about to snap Rui’s neck while the other was keeping him from doing so. It was an amusing sight, and you were happy to see Rui in his element. Even if you wish those two underclassmen went another way.

Making your way to the vending machines, you spotted the familiar purple haired boy fiddling with the buttons. A look of irritation plastered on his face as he begins to shake the machine from the sides.

‘Ah, something must have gotten stuck.’ You thought. This wasn’t an opportunity you could miss, it was too good. You walk up to Rui and the vending machine, helping him shake it a bit more vigorously before the soda candy finally dropped. He bent down to open the slot and retrieve his snack, and then turned to you.

“Why thank… you..” A face of realization flashed across his face. ‘Theres no way out of this one.’ He thought.

“Rui.”

“(Name)…”

Rui looked at everything except you, trying his hardest not to crack open. What could you possibly want from him that’ll put your reputation at risk?

“Can you tell me? Tell me what I did. You stopped talking to me out of no where, and keep avoiding me! Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying to talk to you?” Your voice cracked a bit. There was a deep sense of desperation in your voice that only a fool could miss, and Rui was no fool.

“I just thought you’d be better without me (Name). You’re talented, beautiful, and most of all, a good person. If people see you with me they’re going to think you’re a weirdo like me.” He never realized how dumb his idea sounded until he said it out loud. He wanted to distance himself because you were more important than him? ‘Pathetic of me…’ he thinks.

A silence coated the two of you, and the last thing you wanted was to indulge in it. This whole time… he was avoiding you because of your reputation? Because he didn’t want to ruin your reputation just by being around you? You wanted to laugh.

“I hope you know how happy I am being your friend. You don’t water me down to “a previous dancer on television” and you never did. I always appreciated that and I just- I just want to keep being with you Rui.” This time you couldn’t stop the voice cracks, or the lone tears falling down your cheeks.

Like all the times before, Rui pulled down his sleeve and wiped your tears. His gesture made your heart melt like it always did. He couldn’t stand seeing you cry, it was only worse you were crying because of him.

“I’m sorry (Name), if I had known… I would have stayed with you. I won’t let a mistake like this happen again, I promise.” His tone was sincere and gentle. His hands still on your cheeks from wiping your tears, it was a moment you could stay in forever.

But you weren’t going to forget what he did that easily, no matter the reason. You pulled away and punched his shoulder a little harsher than intended. He yelped in brief pain, clutching his shoulder.

“What was that for??!” He nearly laughed, but refused to give you the reaction you wanted.

“That was for leaving me in the dust for days! Do it again, and it’ll be worse.”

Rui didn’t wanna know what that meant, and deepened the promise he made in his head SK he would certainly never do that again.

Despite the stinging pain he felt, he smiled.

‘I really missed this..’

[starlight-shades]

Called Home to the Depths of the Forest Ch. 9

• summary – Johnny gets arrested (x2)

• rating – M

• wordcount – 4.3k

• warnings – mentions of previous character deaths, corrupt cop

• This is my first fanfic, so please let me know if there's anything I forgot to tag. Feedback is welcome and encouraged

Read on Ao3

Ch. 1 Ch. 8 Ch 10.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He allowed the steady beat of the hammer to lull his mind into a sort of static. 

Ghost wasn’t thinking about anything. No. That had been all he did last night instead of sleeping. Today, he was working. Today was for making Ailsa and Duncan feel safe again, for keeping them fed and safe and happy. 

Price and Gaz had been a godsend in that regard. The gryphon had returned some time in the night and the two of them had helped him. There was no mention of Johnny. Simon didn’t ask.

Currently, Price was half-shifted with his wings out, and he and a fully shifted Gaz were tossing a squealing Ailsa through the air. 

They were high enough off the ground that it made Simon nervous, but everyone involved had reassured him that no, no one was going to fall, and even if they did, it wasn’t high enough to hurt. He had only agreed after they dragged the extra mattress outside to serve as a landing pad. Duncan had made a game of being dropped onto it from the air only to bounce when he landed. 

“My turn!” he announced. It made Simon smile. This game had been the first time he had noticed Duncan having so much fun that it brought him out of his shell. Even when he got excited about various insects to show Simon, he was quiet. He showed his emotion where his sister shouted hers. 

“I want to keep going!” Ailsa protested.

“We’re taking turns, darling,” Price reprimanded gently as Gaz swooped down to scoop up Duncan. “How about you give the mattress a jump?”

“Fine!”

With the sounds of happy children in his periphery, Ghost continued to hammer away at the cabin extension. He had finished the foundation the week before, and now he was beginning to erect the frame of it. 

When he was finished, there would be three additional rooms. They were all slightly larger than his own bedroom. He was still debating if he was going to add a second bathroom for when the pups were older. That might be a project to put off for a later date. 

Besides, the one bathroom was working fine for the four of them. Or would it be three of them?

No. He was not thinking about it.

Something startled the shifters playing below him.

“Simon!” Ailsa yelled. “The phone!”

He chuckled. It was probably Laswell letting him know she was coming. 

“Did you hear that from all the way out here?” Simon asked, smiling softly at her as he climbed down from where he was perched. Something twinged at the motion, reminding him that he got up to some vigorous activities the day before.

Both she and Duncan barreled over to him, clinging to his legs.

“I heard it too,” Duncan insisted, not one to be left out.

“What big ears you have,” he teased, picking him up and propping him on his hip while he ruffled Ailsa’s hair with his free hand.

“No, silly, it’s because we’re wolves,” she argued.

He could hear the ringing as he approached the door, moving swiftly so he could catch Kate before she got the answering machine he was half certain he had set up.

When he picked up the phone, he skipped the greeting and said “So when are you getting here?”

“Hey, Si…”

It was not Laswell.

Simon signed his name on the last of the forms as he waited for one of the uniformed officers to bring Johnny out.

Arrested. He scoffed. So that’s where he had been.

Before he left the house, he had finally asked Gaz about the night before.

“We ran together for a bit before he said he needed to be alone to sort some things out. I thought he was just gonna have a think, not do something stupid!” Gaz had said, defending himself against Price’s dour look. 

“It’s Soap. You didn’t think he was going to do something stupid? When his pups and his… Simon are involved?”

He hadn’t stayed to hear the rest of the conversation.

The police station in town was small. He recognized most of the people working there even if he didn’t know them by name. They apparently knew him, though. And Johnny.

“Alright, Mr. Riley, Mr. MacTavish will be out in just a minute,” the receptionist said when he handed her the pile of completed forms. 

He hadn’t introduced himself.

Tension crept its way into his shoulders, leaving them high and tight. He had to deliberately relax them to adopt the appearance of nonchalance. Didn’t want to draw any more attention than necessary.

Soon enough, Johnny appeared through the doorway that led deeper into the station. He looked disheveled, like he hadn’t slept. His hair, which was normally tousled, was unkempt with flyaways going in every direction. There were deep purple bags under his eyes. The button-down he had worn for their date was wrinkled worse than it had been when they got back to the cabin. There were some stains that he couldn’t identify sprayed across it as well. One that looked suspiciously like blood.

“Simon,” he breathed. The expression on his face was a cross between embarrassed and relieved. 

Without saying anything, Ghost turned around and left the building, unsurprised when he heard footsteps behind him. They walked in silence to the car, but as soon as they were inside, it was broken.

“Si, I can explain—“ Johnny started. 

“We moved too fast,” Ghost cut him off. 

“What?” 

He sounded confused. Simon couldn’t bring himself to look.

“We moved too fast,” he repeated. “It was irresponsible. We have Duncan and Ailsa to think about.”

“What are you saying?” There was a hitch in his voice. “If this is because of last night, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was uncalled for, I was just frustrated!”

“John.”

There was a pause before Johnny launched back into desperately trying to get him to understand. “I wasn’t going to do anything, I was just watching Collins! The bastard wouldn’t leave us alone, so I wanted to see how he liked it. He was at the pub, so I had a few drinks, I wasn’t even drunk!”

“You were arrested for drunk and disorderly!” he yelled, finally raising his voice. Calming slightly, he spoke again. “You were arrested, John, for being drunk and getting into a fight.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again because I will always defend my pack—“

“What am I supposed to say to the children? They heard the phone call, they know you were arrested. What kind of example are we supposed to set for them?” Ghost’s voice was low, serious.

“I’m sure they’ll understand if I explain—“

“They’ll understand what? That going out of their way to fight humans in public is okay? As long as they’re ‘protecting their pack?’ They’re five! Except now you’ve drawn more attention! You accuse me of not doing anything, but this is exactly what I was trying to avoid!” 

“Si, will you just look at me?”

He turned the key in the ignition without acknowledging the question. The rumble of the engine as he pulled out of the parking lot was the only sound for several minutes.

“My priority is and always will be Duncan and Ailsa. The best way I know to keep them safe is to keep them away from everything. The less anyone knows about them, the better.”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny murmured. “Please look at me, Simon.”

“I shouldn’t have let my personal feelings compromise that,” Ghost continued, still ignoring Johnny.

“Please don’t do this,” he begged. Simon had never heard him sound so small.

“I still need your help with the children. They need to know how to be wolves. But you and I, we’re done.”

“Aye… okay…”

He allowed himself one small glance over at the passenger seat. 

Johnny was leaned back into the headrest with his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his face. He looked utterly exhausted. 

They had nothing more to say to each other for the rest of the drive back to the cabin. 

Simon refused to identify the pain he was feeling as heartbreak. 

Duncan and Ailsa were still in their human-shape when they arrived home. 

They eased the hurt in the way that children do so easily with their joy.

“Johnny!” Ailsa squealed, barreling past him to jump into Johnny’s arms.

He caught her easily, spinning her around once before setting her back on her feet.

“Hey there bonnie girl,” he chuckled. Simon could see his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

As Duncan came over, Simon scooped him up and propped him on his hip. The boy nuzzled his face into Simon’s neck before he turned to look at Johnny.

“Hi, Johnny. What’s arrested?”

So they were going to get right into it. 

Simon raised a brow at Price and Gaz who gave him sheepish looks. When Johnny looked at him beseechingly, he just stared back.

“Uh, well. I broke the rules, so the police took me to jail for the night, like a time-out…” He stumbled his way through an explanation when it was clear he would not be getting any help from the other adults in the room. 

“The mean man who keeps asking questions?” Ailsa asked, reaching up for Johnny to pick her up again. 

“Yeah…” It was clear he didn’t know how to answer her. 

Taking pity on him, Price spoke up.

“Ailsa, love, why don’t you show them the picture you did?”

She visibly brightened and squirmed her way out of Johnny’s arms, racing over to the kitchen table which was covered in crayons, colored pencils, and markers. Ailsa snatched up the open sketchbook on the table, and ran back. She paused before she showed them her drawing. Her gaze was trained on the floor in an unexpected display of shyness. 

“Um, well, I drew us, our pack,” she explained, turning the sketchbook around so Simon and Johnny could see. 

There, as little stick figures, were six shapes in the center of the page. There were two blobs in the middle with triangle shaped ears. One one side were two figures with wings, holding hands. They both had what appeared to be hats. On the other side were two more figures. One sort of squarish while the other was lankier with two triangles on the head. 

“That one’s me,” Duncan said quietly, pointing to a vaguely wolf-shaped blob in the middle of the page. 

“I could tell,” Johnny hummed. “This is very good, Ailsa. I like how you gave me my wolf ears.”

She giggled and blushed. “Simon’s not a wolf, so he has regular ears, see?” Her little finger pointed to the rather comically large ears she had put on the square figure with yellow hair.

“I like the faces you drew on the clouds,” Simon added. 

Both Ailsa and Duncan’s smiles faded.

“That’s Mummy and Da. They’re up in the sky now,” she explained. 

“I’m sure they’d love your drawing too, darling,” Simon told her, gathering her close and kissing the top of her head. “What do you say we put this up somewhere?”

She smiled again at that, nodding eagerly before running off to find the perfect spot. 

“Did you do anything fun, Bug?” he asked, craning his neck to look at the child in his arms. 

He gave him a secret sort of smile and nodded. 

“Yeah? What did you do?” Johnny pushed gently.

“We read some books, didn’t we?” Gaz provided, coming close to ruffle Duncan’s hair. “We read ‘A Very Hungry Caterpillar,’ on account of the caterpillar.”

“I liked it,” Duncan whispered to Simon, “But I like when we read at bedtime better.”

“That’s cuz Gaz isn’t very good at reading,” Johnny mock-whispered, nudging Gaz with his elbow. 

“Oi! I can read perfectly well, thank you very much!” he protested, shoving Johnny right back. 

“Well tell that to the five-year-old who says Si is better,” he laughed, looking up and meeting Simon’s eyes before his grin fell away.

They stared at each other for a moment, letting all the what-ifs sink into the space between them. The children looked at one, then the other. The silence was definitely awkward.

He cleared his throat and set Duncan back on his feet. 

“I’ll uh, get started on dinner,” he muttered, escaping to the kitchen. 

“Si…” Johnny started, but Ghost just brushed past him. 

It’s quieter in the kitchen. Price and Gaz stay out with the pups and Johnny in the living room. 

Simon goes through the motions, ignoring every echo of a memory when he does something that Johnny taught him. It helps that he’s making so much more food than usual. Though it’s not the first time Gaz and Price have stayed for dinner, and he’s grateful that by now he’s mostly figured out the right amount to make. 

There’s a lull when he sticks the roast in the oven. He’s not entirely sure what to do with himself. He can hear Ailsa laughing in the other room, and after a moment Duncan’s quieter giggles, but he’s deliberately got his back turned.

When a hand touches his shoulder, he startles, whipping around and twisting the offending arm backwards.

“Just me!” Price announces a moment too late. He winces when Simon let’s go of his arm.

“Sorry.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” he said, shaking his hand out. “You’ve got good reflexes there.”

He grunted, moving towards the cabinet where he kept the liquor. This seemed like the evening to have a drink. Simon looked back at where Price had settled back against the counter and held up the bottle of whiskey in a silent offer. 

“Yeah, I could do with a glass.”

Between them, the only sound was from the ice clinking in the glasses and the slosh of alcohol. Wordlessly, Price accepted the tumbler from Simon. They stood on opposite sides of the kitchen, sipping at their drinks while waiting for the other to be the first to break the silence. 

With a sigh, Simon decided it would have to be him. He didn’t have the energy to beat around the bush. 

“Is this where you tell me to give him another chance?” Simon gave him a droll look. 

“No,” Price admitted, surprising him. “I wanted to make sure you knew that no matter what happens with you and Soap, Gaz and I’ll always be here for you and the little ones. You’re pack now.”

“Oh,” he breathed, letting his shoulders fall back. “Thanks.”

“I will say one thing on Soap, though.”

Simon tossed back the rest of his glass in one go, letting the burn of the liquor brace him. 

“John’s a good man. Can be an idiot, but the boy’s as loyal as they come. I hope he does right by you, Simon.”

He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. The burn behind his eyes was from the liquor, not tears, he told himself. When Price took his drink and left the kitchen, he was nothing but grateful. 

“Why don’t we go outside for a bit? I bet I could find a few flames in me,” he heard him say, gathering everyone so Simon could be alone.

So he could cry in peace. 

That’s the thing that got him. No matter how many times he was reminded that it was the people he trusted who could hurt him the most, it still hurt when he pushed them away. He couldn’t win.

Simon sank to the floor, clutching his empty glass to his chest and let silent sobs wrack his body. 

He would do it again, he told himself. No price was too high to keep those children safe. Even his own broken heart.

The next few days were awkward. Simon and Johnny no longer shared the bed with the pups. It was one or the other again. If it wasn’t about Duncan and Ailsa and their care, they didn’t speak to each other. When it was the two of them alone in a room, Simon quickly left. 

There were a few times when Johnny had tried to speak to him, but Simon shut him down every time. 

Duncan was the first to pick up that something was very different. He sat on the ground, watching Simon measure out where the door should go from the main cabin into the extension. 

“Simon?”

“Yeah, Bug?” 

“Are you mad at Johnny?”

Oh.

He sighed. “Um, yeah. I’m not very happy with him right now.”

“Oh.”

Simon looked back at Duncan who was quietly shredding a blade of grass. When he felt Simon’s gaze on him, he paused and looked up.

“Are you mad at me?”

He immediately dropped the measuring tape and got to his knees, gathering the boy in his arms. Duncan very quickly settled into his favorite position with his face tucked in Simon’s neck.

“Oh no, Bug, I’m not mad at you. Whatever happens between me and Johnny will never change how I feel about you.” He stroked Duncan’s hair, pushing some of the longer pieces out of his face. “Okay?”

The boy nodded. 

Ailsa was less tactful in her questioning. Simon was sitting with her as she drew in her sketchbook. 

“Does this mean you and Johnny aren’t married anymore?”

He choked on his saliva, coughing a few times. 

“Umm, no,” he started. “Johnny and I were never married.”

That confused her. She paused what she was doing, her face scrunching up in an expression he should not find as cute as he did. 

“But you live together. And you smell is all mixed up together like Mummy and Da’s.”

“Yes, but he moved in when you and Duncan started living here,” he tried to explain, choosing to ignore the comment about their smell. Sometimes he forgot about the heightened senses. Simon didn’t believe in lying to children, but he also wasn’t sure how much to tell her. 

“Where did he live before?”

“With Price and Gaz.”

“But Price and Gaz are married. Does that mean Johnny was married to them?”

He had to stop himself from chuckling. “No, love. Just because adults live together doesn’t mean they’re married.”

“Oh.” 

She then went right back to her coloring, leaving Simon feeling like he just went a round in a boxing ring.

When the time came for Simon to go down to the police station for his appointment with D.C. Collins, things were still very strained. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he said as he shrugged on his jacket. 

Johnny nodded. He had the look of a kicked puppy these days. Simon found it distracting.

“If the phone rings while I’m gone, it’s probably Laswell. She should be coming any day. You can tell her where I am. If it’s anyone else, take down their information then hang up.”

“Aye.”

Simon ducked down to kiss each of the pups goodbye. They were in their wolf-shape today. 

“Be good. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

The drive to the station was uneventful and soon enough he found himself in front of one of the more unpleasant people he had ever met. 

“D.C. Collins interviewing Mister Simon Riley,” Collins spoke into the machine recording their conversation.

They sat in an interrogation room. The chairs were uncomfortable. Stainless steel. So was the table they sat at. 

As Collins flipped through the file in front of him, Simon glanced at the metal ring welded to the table. It was used to thread handcuffs to to keep subjects’ hands visible. His eyes flicked around the room. There was a disturbing amount of familiarity to it. Ghost catalogued every item he could see, picturing in his head how he would use it to break Collins.

“Simon Riley, age forty-three. Single it says on your taxes.” Collins looked up at him as if to confirm. 

He nodded. Ghost was very familiar with the file on the table and all the lies it was filled with. It was blank in a lot of places too. It had been a rush job when he retired. He hadn’t wanted to spend too much time on it.

“If you could speak your answers out loud for the recording,” he said, sounding annoyed. 

So there was no video. Good information to have. 

“I’m not married.”

Collins nodded. “There’s very little in your file on your background. No work history.” His eyes narrowed.

Ghost shrugged. “Should I be flattered you’ve spent so much time looking into me?”

“How long have you lived in the area?” 

“Six years or so.”

“And where were you before that?” he pushed.

“I’m not at liberty to say.” 

Collins barked out something that resembled a laugh. “You’re not at liberty to say…” he repeated. “Well can you tell me where you were on March 14th?”

Ghost settled back in his seat. This man was an amateur. “As I said before, I don’t keep a diary.”

Collins mirrored him, leaning back. “So you don’t have an alibi.”

He didn’t say anything, just waited for him to get to his next question. 

“Your file says here you’re an only child—”

While he knew it was in there, Simon did not expect the pit in his gut at the words.

“So you’re unfamiliar with the bond between brothers,” Collins continued, his voice hard and low. “Let me educate you, Mr. Riley. My brother and I? We were as thick as thieves. He was my best friend. Jeff would do anything for me, and I would do anything for him. So when he didn’t call like he said he would, I was surprised. He was supposed to come back from his trip and see me on his way home. But as I’m sure you’re aware, he never did.” 

He whipped out a second folder, slapping three photos on the table, one of each of the hunters. Collins tapped so hard on the first one that it was a wonder he didn’t break his own finger. 

“So you look at these men, and you tell me again you don’t know where you were on March 14th.”

Ghost had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

“Like I said, I couldn’t tell you.”

The other man did his best to stare him down. 

He leaned forward, and tried a different line of questioning. 

“What is your relationship to the children in your care?”

“They’re under my guardianship.” Simon hoped Laswell had gotten all the paperwork properly filed in time.

“You’ve adopted them?”

“It’s in the works.”

“How did they come into your care?” Collins was far too curious about the children.

“I’m not sure how this is relevant, Detective Constable.”

“Humor me.”

“I don’t think I will. If you’d like to continue this conversation, I will require my legal counsel be present.”

“Hmmm,” Collins hummed, staring him down.

When Ghost didn’t budge, he glanced down at his watch. Whatever he saw had him smirking. Simon did not like that.

“Interview concluded,” Collins said into the recording device before shutting it off. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Riley.” 

The smile on his face left Simon feeling uneasy. 

As he was escorted to the lobby of the police station, the sinking feeling in his gut plummeted even further. 

“Simon!”

“Johnny!” 

What was he doing here? Why was he in handcuffs? Where were they taking him?

“They let me call Price and Gaz. They’re on their way to the cabin for the pups,” he called, tugging his wrists away from the officer leading him towards the back. 

“Don’t say anything, Johnny, I’ll get you out!” 

Despite being rather roughly hauled away in handcuffs, the look on Johnny’s face had been rather soft when he looked at Simon. 

He hurried over to the receptionist’s desk. 

“Is there a phone I could use?”

She directed him over to a phone that was hooked up off to the side. Quickly, he plugged in the number for his own landline. 

He cursed as he heard it ringing. Again and again. Just when he thought no one would pick up, he was answered.

“Hello?”

“Gaz,” he breathed. “They’ve just brought Johnny in in cuffs.”

“Shit. Me and Price are with the little ones, but we have a guest staying over, and she insisted on coming. I’m sorry, Simon, we didn’t have time to stop her,” he rushed out.

“Do you trust her?” His knuckles were white where he gripped the phone.

“I—“ Gaz was cut off.

“Simon Riley.”

His breath rushed from him in utter relief. “Kate.”

“We’re on our way. Stay put. See if you can get in to see John.”

He exhaled. There was a mission now. He could focus on that.

Hanging up the phone, he turned back to the receptionist. He should really ask her name at this point considering he had spent so much time with her that week.

“What’s the process for getting in to see someone in custody?” he asked without preamble. Simon didn’t quite have it in him to be charming at the moment. 

“Well, um, visiting hours will be over by the time Mr. MacTavish is processed, so you’d have to wait for tomorrow,” she explained. 

“Is there any way I could see him today?” 

She pursed her lips. “Well not unless you commit a crime yourself,” she laughed nervously, glancing back in the direction the officer had taken Johnny. 

“Okay, thank you,” he said. Simon wouldn’t take his frustration out on her, it wasn’t her fault. 

Looking around, he tried to find something he could use. There was a glass paperweight on the receptionist’s desk. He grabbed it.

“Does this have any sentimental value?” Ghost asked her.

“Well, no, but—“

Before she could finish protesting, he threw it as hard as he could to the ground. It shattered, sending glass flying everywhere. 

A uniformed policewoman came running to the front looking rather frazzled.

“What happened?”

Ghost raised his hand. “That counts as destruction of property, right?”

[foolsocracy]

As the one who can't stop sending you long-winded overly poetic asks, I personally love your long responses back. STORIES WITH THEMES, SYMBOLISMS EVEN!! WHEN THE ANALYSIS?? Y'KNOW?

I'll read over the post again a bit later and try to come up with a more thoughtful response, but, ough. So ready to die honorably, just like everyone else, you've already dug your grave beside your family's. And then, by your joints and limbs, you're unearthed again. Some poor, bedraggled marrionette. Fuck.

HAHA thank you! THE THEMES.. THE MOTIFS.. its all right there and free for the picking! And ive got all your other asks in my inbox and i want to answer them as timely as possible, i do, but alas---i'm slow. thanks for ur patience <3

and im jumping on this too. we're like a tag team, you and i.

being put to rest (however violently) and being pulled back into being alive has to be horrific for anyone. But because im the #1 jewish peter parker fan, i kinda want to comment on this with a bit of a jewish lens as well.

In Judaism, there isn't really a heaven/hell/etc. It's described as a type of oblivion that is as far from heaven as possible. The dead exist there without knowledge or feeling. There is a total disconnect and inability to communicate with god. I wanted to mention this because imagine the surprise of not being disconnected from god at death, but instead being forcibly man-handled into resurrection. Peter very well could have thought he'd be free of his curse once he died. Sorry pete but life has more in store for you.

In jewish tradition, it is customary for someone to be buried within 24 hours of dying. Today, this concept is translated to 'as soon as possible' and is a bit more lenient. It is the family's job to bury their dead, but if they are unable to do so it is up for the community to take up the task. There are no exceptions to the burial rule; "even criminals who have been put to death, the unclaimed slain, suicides, and strangers to the community" would be buried. It is a tradition created from compassion. "To be denied burial was the most humiliating indignity that could be inflicted on the deceased, for it meant 'to become food for beasts of prey.'" Prior to burial, it is also customary to have someone, typically family, accompany the body of the deceased out of respect, as they are seen as defenseless, and as a comfort to the soul that rests within it.

I wonder if he would have ever thought about that aspect of dying alone. Was there any kind of debate, whether it'd be worth it to die as Peter Parker, a boy with a name to his face and an aunt at home, or to die as The Spider-Man, fighting for whats right, but a stranger to everyone, alone? And what of when he wakes up again, after death, knowing he was unburied, left to rot. If that isn't a signifier of just how alone he is, I don't know what is.

There are two ways he could have been honored, i suppose. The traditional sense, through his family's and community's customs. Being laid to rest beneath the ground with others at his side. Or on the streets of the city, alone but dying for everything his family believed in. Finding solace in following in their footsteps. He gets neither, of course.

[chounaifu]

FILE # 03052023

Name: ▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌

Aliases: Proton, Kusama Tetsyua, Park Du-han, Miyano Kento

Pronouns: He/They

Age: 33

Height: 5'10"

Date of Birth: June 17th

Hometown: Ecruteak City

Current Location: Celadon City

Pokémon: Golbat (x20), Crobat, Hypno, Mightyena, Spidops, Porygon, Noibat, Noctowl

Type: No current specialization, though he is beginning to lean into flying-types.

Gym Experience: None

Business Association: Executive ranked member of Team Rocket, head of the submarket & black market division, founder and leader of the repossession squad.

TRAITS

Positive: Engaging, excited, creative, determined, team player, charismatic, ❛friendly?❜ ( ᴮᵉʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˡʸ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ. )

Negative: Cruel, manipulative, aggressive, arrogant, judgmental, addictive personality, snarky, stubborn.

MBTI: ENTP (The Debater)

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Sexuality: Heterosexual Bisexual Pansexual

Health Conditions: ADHD, PTSD, disordered eating, ( ᶠʳᵃᵍᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ˢʸⁿᵈʳᵒᵐᵉ )

BACKGROUND

Everybody in the small village north of Ecruteak had heard the rumors of the "oni boy" that had been bestowed upon the Kojima household. Some believed that the boy's father had failed to uphold his duties to the kami, and was being punished. Others speculated that his foreigner mother had brought misfortune to the household, and displeased the spirits that lived on the land.

Every account, however, involved some mention of the various omens surrounding his birth: his first cry, breaking through the silence at 4 am, the spiders gathering near the western corner of the home where the family bed shared, the presence of serpents beneath the ancestral shrine--

Whatever the truth may be, his entrance into the world was not celebrated.

❛ Give him back to the kami. It's for the best. You can always have another. ❜

Starving an unwanted child with the hopes that the ancestors of the gods would take them back to the spirit realm, was an dated tradition, but one that the elder of the Kojima household believed in. But, when the boy survived (to the relief of his parents, and the frustration of his paternal grandfather), it forced the question:

What happens when you are considered such bad luck, that even the gods don't want you back?

-- This is the story of a boy named Taeyang Kojima, born to a strict, traditional Shinto family in rural Johto. Unbeknownst to a single soul, he would go on to become Proton, the cruelest, most wicked man on the entire continent.

Taeyang was raised in a very spiritual, and superstitious household. His mother was a Korean immigrant, and his father came from a traditionalist Johtonese family. His paternal grandfather did not approve of the woman that his son married, -- and when the omens of misfortune manifested during her pregnancy, he decided that he needed to keep a stronger grip on his son, and future grandson.

The boy displayed behaviors that were considered unusual and unnerving to the family, and the village as a whole. Taeyang had a tendency to stare at people directly in the eye, without much facial expression, despite being told again and again that it was rude to do so. His experience with being starved as an infant resulted in him biting, gnawing, and putting just about anything in his mouth. It was not unusual to see him trying to eat inedible objects, and other things off of the ground. Matters became even more grave when his teeth began to grow in-- sharp incisors, more akin to ones belonging to a Sharpedo, sparked thoughts of the vicious oni, Ibaraki-doji. And, as he got older, the "omens" that his grandfather were wary of, continued to manifest. He took a liking to writing in red ink, and often whistled to entertain himself, unaware of the superstition surrounding those two actions.

As a result, Taeyang's room was littered with spirit tags, and it wasn't unusual for one or two to be smacked onto his back, or directly onto his forehead, when his behavior began to make people uncomfortable.

❛ We cannot be too cautious. ❜

Despite of all of this, his parents loved him, and wanted him to have as normal of a life as possible. His mother enriched him with cultural cooking and stories of her life in her home region, and his father was in charge of Taeyang's spiritual upbringing. Taeyang would join his father to clean and tend to the ancestral shrine, in the hopes that he would grow up and follow in the footsteps of the Kojima family's duties and reverence for the kami of the skies and the sun: Ho-oh. After all, his mother had named him after the sun. Taeyang even had a Pokémon partner: a Hoothoot that nested in the ginkgo tree outside of his home.

Misfortune has a way of playing favorites.

When Taeyang turned 9 years old, both of his parents passed way of an unknown illness (yet another omen pinned onto the boy,) leaving him in the care of his paternal grandfather. From there, his life only became more arduous. Physical beatings became common place; he would often have his bare feet struck with bamboo rods. Taeyang grew to be rebellious, angry, and unpredictable. He stopped all focus in his spiritual studies, and became bitter and skeptical towards all beliefs in spirit and higher powers. His interest in more strange topics-- the study of ghosts, of oni, of dangerous Pokémon, replaced his time spent at the shrine. A hobby for knife collecting developed at some point, after he started spending time with some of the older boys in Ecruteak, and others from nearby towns.

❛ I'll cut the broken pieces of god out of me. ❜

And that is precisely what he did.

The exact details on how the murder happened, were murky; Taeyang recalls standing in the kitchen, pulling cabbage leaves apart to wash them for a meal. His grandfather had been atrociously upset with him. Taeyang had gone missing for several days, and wound up being picked up by police. Supposedly, he had been getting into street fights, and was accused of breaking into somebody's vehicle. His grandfather was shouting at him, berating him, throwing every dehumanizing slur at his direction-- insults about everything, from his behavior, to his mental wellness, his disregard for authority and the higher powers, and even sharp comments about his mixed ethnicity.

Before he knew it, Taeyang was on top of his grandfather, plunging the kitchen scissors into him, and staining the tatami mat in blood.

After the slaying, Taeyang disappeared.

Taeyang spent several years coming and going from different cities. He took on odd jobs (both legal and criminal) in order to pay for motel rooms and food. Without being able to apply for a trainer license (something that was inaccessible for him due to his more rural living situation a child,) he did not have the experience necessary in order to take on gym challenges, battle for money, or even defend himself without legal repercussions. He came and went under different aliases, often times losing track of who he was identifying.

During this time, he did manage to successfully capture two Pokémon: a Zubat, and a Drowzee.

Much like the rumors that surrounded his birth, nobody can really agree on how Taeyang became Proton and joined the ranks of Rocket. Perhaps he was recruited due to his reputation as a thief. Or maybe he was desperate, and needed a reliable source of income. Some speculate that he gravitated towards the yakuza due the discrimination towards his mixed heritage, and could not find employment elsewhere. Others whispers about more gruesome rumors-- how he was caught murdering a Rocket officer, and was given an ultimatum to offer his services, or be eliminated.

Proton was an exceptionally risky recruit, displaying feral behaviors, a lack of respect for authority, similar to how he clashed with the spiritual leaders of Ecruteak-- and a disregard for the other members of the organization. Many believed that he wouldn't last a year without being killed on the job, or beaten by another veteran member who could not put up with his crass attitude. Despite all of the odds, he climbed the ranks, earning promotion after promotion, and creating an impressive, violent resume. He was trained in CQC and various forms of pencak silat, and had every bladed weapon at the tip of his fingers. Given the correct forms of enrichment and the outlets needed for him to get the job done, Proton became a massive success. His knowledge of the black markets was irreplaceable, and his ability to rally people was admired. Eventually, he found himself in sitting alongside the likes of Petral, Ariana and Archer, directly beneath their leader, Giovanni.

What has Proton done with himself since ascending to this rank?

A list of his duties.

Duties carried out by his division subordinates by rank.

Or, perhaps you have heard of the horrific accident at Cinnabar Island?

The Porygon Facility Incident

Fragmentation Syndrome

Since the accident on Cinnabar Island, Proton's memories have been corrupted. He has very little recollection of the events in his childhood, and his mental health has deteriorated even further.

However, he has chosen to lean into the insanity-- and embraces who he is. In doing so, he still manages to lead his division, and slithers his way into the lives of many, many people. Proton is a self-identified monster, feared by many, and beloved by others. And, in this state of unpredictability-- who knows what type of decisions he will make for his future? He is a valuable ally, and a horrific enemy.

One thing is for certain, though: you do not want to be alone when the repo man strikes.