#well Gus passes as human but he is not one!!!

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Just want to say that I love the fact that you apparently made Theodore Noise a human-mouse-thing. That's good, Noise needs to be represented as an inhuman gremlin.

(Hehe, yes, he is a rodent of some sort!!! I saw him and was like, 'Oh, that's a little beasty! A darling rat boy!!!'

I was also inspired by many cool artists and their Noises!!!

Also, it's really funny for Peppino to be the only human in this world of creachurs and food folk!!!

[captainmera]

i never realised just how much tgb had changed how i thought about the characters (mostly vee) until yesterday when i was re-looking over my toh fan-art. You wrote them so well that i forgot that it wasnt all in the show. like how vee and gus weren't shown to being best friends, vee never got to be angry/shocked by hunter or just willow still holding a little grudge against amity. They are just cool details and im so clad they were added! ps your great

Thank you! Wow that's very flattering! I'm glad you are enjoying it!

I really like Vee, and the more I think about the gang's time in the human-realm, the more I sit back in my chair and think "Ah man, these arcs are really necessary and interesting though.."

Vee also holds a lot of plot, as a basilisk. We can speculate what the reason is that they were extinct, for example (grimwalkers were extinct too).

Wat I really enjoy about TOH's characters are how easily and smoothly they weave into each other's themes and arcs. Their personalities and histories makes them all perfect friends to both build them up and break them down. It's a chefs kiss.

Vee is no different! The set-up for her character was perfectly slotted in to what the other characters needed for their time in the human-realm. And the theme I think the human-realm was supposed to embody.

The demon-realm arc for Luz was a hero's journey, but because of the foil of the trope, and that the point was that: there is no hero/chosen one actually, and the rebels didn't make it in time like in the books, and just because it's a different realm it didn't mean Luz could escape - escapism is temporary.

Dana has said grief and hope are core elements of the story, and she chose to tell it through a foiled trope of being chosen/hero's journey, layered with a religious trauma lens.

To me, looking at Luz as the main character, means looking at her as a nerdy girl in need of escapism, wanting to find purpose, and avoiding her emotions about her dad's passing.

The return to human-realm would be, for Luz, a turning point where TOH turns from being about a hero's journey and a journey about the steps of grief and healing - at the end of it, she will find the light.

Vee, to me, is kind of like a new take on the guide character. She is not a guide, in the sense that she has all the answers, but rather all the truths.

She was right when she told Luz she had everything and still chose to run away. They're not the same. Vee is also a lot better than Luz at being normal and fitting in, something Luz has been playing off and avoiding facing. Luz sees herself as being different as a bad thing, she tried to run away to a place where "weird" was normal and that didn't work out. Now she's back home and feels that it's all her fault bad things happened, because she is herself. And the person she is is different. And different didn't mean special, just different. Of course she's depressed.

The same is true for all the other characters. Vee gets to reflect their truths too, simply by being crafted, narratively, into being the guide.

Hunter gets to face his actions as the GG, come to terms with the nuances of his bad actions, whatever reason he committed what he did. Find forgiveness not just from Vee but himself too. He gets to start over, just like her. She shows him it's possible.

Gus gets someone to share his dream with, his love and enthusiasm for the human realm. A place that Vee feels is more home than where she came from. Gus gets to grow as a person, both morally and intelligently. As does Vee, she gets somebody who shows her that she doesn't just have to be a refugee, she can have a purpose here. She can be an ambassador.

Willow was set up to have an arc where she mistook her newfound magical and physical strengths (she is working out a lot in canon after she changed track), for inner strengths. Willow is a sensitive girl, and a bit of a berserk (I mean she was willing to burn her own mind just to hurt Amity). Willow having to face Vee, who isn't physically stronger than her but is significantly further down the road of being internally strong, is something Willow can learn from. Perhaps even have conflict with! (but more so a conflict with herself than with Vee, really.)

With Amity, Vee has a simpler role. I think to Amity it's more so showing that it's possible to live in the human realm, and giving her hope that going back and forth is a future for everyone who wishes to do so. Creatively speaking, I think Amity and Vee more so to bounce off one another for the plot, rather than character growth or decline.

Camila, I think, is the most interesting. Because she has now spent approximately a year with Vee, half of it thinking she was Luz and having feelings about her daughter having changed so much, the line "I'm glad youre still creative" comes to mind. As well as the terror of losing Luz again. But also, because she has had her own unseen arc and development with Vee, and them having bonded into a foster family that we never got to see glimpses of, it goes without saying that Camila has already done the internal work to take on more kids if that's necessary. I think she saw these kids by her door and thought "yep. They're mine now too." Vee, I think, is interesting to toss into the family dynamic between Luz and Camila, who seemingly are misunderstanding one another significantly. Vee sees them both, and can be a voice of reason when it comes to it. Or if it would come to it.

ANYWAY MY RANTS ARE LONG. IM DONE. THANKS FOR READING.

[golbrocklovely]

guardian angel // colby brock

A/N: hey yall, hope you're enjoying my 13 nights so far! this fic was really fun to write and i'm excited to see what you guys think. let me know and happy haunting :)

prompt: you are colby's guardian angel, and have been watching over him his entire life. suddenly you learn that he's going to die, much sooner than you thought. it's against the rules, but you must save him. || colby brock x fem!reader

trigger warning: angst, cursing, colby (almost) dies, heaven is like an office setting lol, time jump, happy ending

word count: 4182

~~~~~~~~~~

Being a guardian angel was no easy feat. Many angels weren’t cut out for the job; too many rules and regulations, too much of a numbers game. But I, Y/N, was born for it.

No literally, God created me to be a guardian angel. And I was the best one around. I had been one for eons, millenniums. I was the top ranking amongst my division. I prided myself on my clean and non-rule breaking record. Being a guardian angel was basically a full time job. Constantly watching over your person, making sure to lead them in the right direction, lend a helping hand when you could… it took up a lot of time. And luckily for humans, angels never needed sleep.

Guardian angels had a very strict job. And if done right, when your person would pass on you were allowed to guide them into the light, let them know how you cared for them, and help them find peace once moved on. It was a job I had become good at. One I had done millions of times.

Then I was tasked with a new human to watch over. His name is Colby Brock.

His early years were pretty uneventful. Most humans' childhoods are. I watched him as he went through all the milestones: his first crush, school, puberty, his angsty phase - that somehow never left - and many other little moments. Everything about his life, and what it was going to be, was written out. Of course humans had free will and the ability to change things, but certain situations were destined.

In particular, his meeting of Sam Golbach.

They were destined to be lifelong friends, business partners, and platonic soulmates. Interestingly however, when they did meet, Colby’s death meter spiked for a moment.

A death meter, as its name sounds, measured the amount of death surrounding a person at any given time. I realized that Sam, while extremely important in Colby’s life, might lead him down certain paths he wouldn’t have taken on his own; which of course could always lead to his early demise.

But I trusted Sam, not only because he was a good person, but because his guardian angel was good at their job as well. Not as good as me, of course...

As time slowly ticked on day by day, year by year, I had this feeling inside of myself. One that I had noticed in many humans but never experienced personally. I for one was an angel, and human emotions weren’t exactly something that came easily to us. But this one… was inherent in everything living.

I had grown to love him. I loved all of my persons that I had cared for over my time as a GA, but he was something different. And the love I felt for him was too.

I watched Colby grow up, struggle. He was hard on himself a lot, internally and externally. I tried my best to send him love in many ways, and sometimes they would help. But it was temporary. There were times I wanted to reach out, to help him more. To maybe even speak directly to him in ways that weren’t allowed.

Guardian angels and humans weren’t meant to speak to one another, unless in the very rare occasion of psychics. But true psychics…. They had once been angels too. That was our punishment for breaking rules: you lost your angel privileges and became human. Depending on how many rules you broke, you would spend multiple cycles being a human, going through the ups and downs over and over again. It was described as a terrible existence in a way, far beyond one of just a normal human. And maybe if you paid your dues you could become an angel again, but there was no guarantee.

I knew my love for Colby was odd in multiple ways. I shouldn’t have felt this for him, this ache in my (what would be) heart, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to protect him, to make sure he was okay every moment of every day. And it was far beyond what my job required. But I didn’t care.

He had had many scares before, coming a little too close to death for my liking. I would peak into the future in those times, seeing if he would come out the other side. And luckily he always did. He was only 27 years old, and had many years left to live from what I saw.

But then he made the wrong choice.

Sam and Colby were ghost hunters, a first for any human I was a GA for. I watched them go from place to place, the death meter spiking at random. Truly, since this career pivot, my job had become a constant heart attack waiting to happen.

If I could get one of those, of course.

And one day, the death meter went to a high voltage; one that was only reserved for when someone was dying that very day.

I glared, puzzled at the device. Surely this was a mistake. He had years to go, many things to accomplish. There was no way he was dying.

I flipped his book open, reading the words carefully. He was hunting at a random location in Wyoming, a place called the Seesaw Inn. It was old, decrepit, and definitely was a safety hazard.

I read ahead quickly, needing to know what was going to happen, because in the current time, him and Sam were just walking around with the owner, getting a feel for the place. But his story continued on past that point and into the night. On the last page of his book, it spelt out the way he would go: Colby entered the third floor, walking towards room 312. Both boys were told how this room was one of the most haunted, and Colby - losing to a game of rock, paper, scissors - was tasked with going into the room alone and standing out on the balcony to see if he could catch a lady in white appear down below. As he stepped onto the balcony, he noticed how creaky the railing of the balcony was. He shrugged it off, turning his camera on and speaking to it softly. “Guys, I’m out here on Room 312’s balcony. Sam is in the basement, doing a solo onvoy investigation, and I’m supposed to call out to the woman in white. I swear if I see her, I’m shitting myself.” He turned the camera to himself, smiling, and leaned slightly on the railing. It suddenly cracked under the pressure of his weight, Colby letting out a shriek. As he tried to catch his footing, he slipped further and over the railing. Then, he fell, hitting his hea-

I stopped reading, gasping at words. No, no no. This couldn't be happening. There's no way he's dying tonight. How is that even possible? He had a whole life to live! This must have been a mistake.

Vida, Sam's guardian angel, rushed up to me. "Y/N, did you see? Colby's gonna di-"

"Yes I did, Vida. I know." I hushed her, looking around our office quickly, hoping no one noticed.

"I can't believe it. I was looking ahead in Sam's future and saw things change." She sighed deeply, "He's gonna need me now more than ever after this."

"No, he won't," I jumped up from my seat. "Because I'm not gonna let this happen."

"What are you talking about, Y/N? You can't change it. It's set in stone." Vida argued, shaking her head.

I began walking hastily towards the elevators. "Yesterday it wasn't. He was gonna live a whole life! And now, because he plans to lean against some rickety old railing, he dies? Not on my watch."

"You can't just go down there and change things. That's not how we help them." She explained.

I glanced back at her, "There's not enough time for me to change his fate. Unless I physically do so."

"But if you go down there...." Her voice fell softly, "you're done. You won't be allowed back."

"I know. But I can't just let him die. Too many people rely on him. There is so much more harm that will come from his passing." I swallowed hard as my eyes locked onto the elevators, "I can't.... watch him die and do nothing."

"I've never seen you like this, in all my years of being a GA." She murmured.

I took a deep breath, hitting the elevator button down. I turned to her, looking into her eyes deeply, "Just make sure the next GA he gets is nice to him, okay? He really needs us sometimes. So make sure they actually listen to him."

"I will." She nodded her head, leaning in quickly and giving me a tight hug. "Goodbye, Y/N."

"Bye, Vida. It was nice knowing you." I pulled away from her, hearing the doors open.

I entered the elevator, clicking the first floor level. As the elevator descended, I imagined Colby and where he was in this moment. I only had a couple more minutes until his demise. I needed to rush to him, and fast.

Finally the last 'ding' of the elevator clicked. As the doors opened, I looked around my surroundings. It was right outside the Seesaw Inn. I had to get to Colby quickly, so I began flying towards room 312's balcony. I knew he would be there any moment, the clocking ticking down fast.

I stepped over the railing, landing softly onto the balcony. I hid in the corner, right behind where the door would open. A moment passed and Colby came into the room soundly. He mumbled something to himself, walking over to the balcony door and swinging it open.

As he stepped onto the balcony, he glanced at the railing. He shrugged, turning the camera to him and speaking quietly. "Guys, I’m out here on Room 312’s balcony. Sam is in the basement, doing a solo onvoy investigation, and I’m supposed to call out to the woman in white. I swear if I see her, I’m shitting myself.” He turned the camera to himself, smiling, and leaned slightly on the railing. As he began to fall forward, a yell escaping his lips, I grabbed the back of his jacket, holding him back. I yanked him back into the room, knocking him onto the floor.

He shuttered out a cry, gazing up at me in fear, ""W-What the f-fuck?!"

I raised my hands up, "Calm down, Colby. It's alright."

Colby crawled backwards away from me, bumping into the desk nearby. "W-Who are you and how did you get up here? You shouldn't be here."

I stepped into the room but kept my distance from him. I was suddenly overcome with frustration, narrowing my eyes. "Do you know how dangerous that balcony is? You could have died! I mean, you were literally meant to, and all of this over a game of rock-paper-scissors?!"

"Who the hell are you? Did you follow us here?" He stood up quickly, his stance tense.

"You're not gonna believe me when I say this, but I'm your guardian angel. And I just saved your life." I explained plainly.

He paused, his face scrunching, "...My what?"

"Guardian angel. You believe in those, right? At least from what I can tell, you do. So this shouldn't be that much of a shock to you." I half-heartedly laughed.

Colby shook his head, confused. "No... no. You're just some fan that snuck in. You shouldn't be here. You have to leave."

"Do I need to show you my wings to prove to you I'm real?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes, "What? Yeah, sure."

I shrugged, acknowledging his snarky attitude, and fluttered my wings out. The room illuminated with the subtle glow of my wings. Colby stepped back, dropping his camera onto the bed. His eyes were widened in fear and awe.

He kept his eyes on them, "H-Holy... shit."

"I wasn't lying, Colby. I am your guardian angel, and you were supposed to die just then." I stated, slowly folding my wings back up.

He sat down, almost falling onto the bed; the wind being kicked out of him. "There's no way."

"The railing of the balcony is weak, and you were supposed to lean against it, and fall to your death. But I stopped that from happening." I walked over to the railing, Colby's eyes trailing after me curiously. I pushed against the railing, and it broke apart, failing over the balcony. Colby's heart stopped for a moment, his eyes taking everything in.

He swallowed hard, staring at the ground in bewilderment. "Fuck."

"Make sure to sue the person that owns this building for negligence... or something. I'm not entirely sure how human laws work, so just make sure you get some compensation out of your almost death." I remarked, exhaling.

I began to walk towards the door, Colby's voice stopping me. "Wait! Why did you save me?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Why?"

"I mean, I figure because you're my... angel, you're supposed to. But why now? Was I not supposed to die?" He questioned, stepping towards me.

"Guardian angels are only supposed to help when you reach out first. Technically what I just did breaks the rule. Actually the biggest rule of them all: don't stop death. We're not supposed to do things like that." I commented, "It kind of fucks with timelines and whatnot."

"But you did it." He breathed.

I nodded. "Yes, I did."

"Why?" Colby whispered.

I took a deep breath, getting close to him slowly. "You are extremely important, Colby. There are so many things left in this world that I know you need to get to. And I don't know why your path changed so quickly, but I knew I had to stop it before it was too late. I couldn't watch you die. I... care about you too much. And so do many others. And I made the executive decision that it wasn't your time to go just yet."

His eyes welled up for a moment, "Thank you. I don't think I'm even remotely ready to die."

"Most aren't. But at least you know now is not your time." I leaned up sweetly, kissing his cheek. "Goodbye Colby."

He held my hand gently, and I felt my being go warm. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Probably not. I'm actually gonna be in huge trouble once I get back upstairs. They'll most like reassign me to someone else," I lied. "So you'll have a new guardian angel. But I'll still check on you from time to time."

He bit his lip. "I don't even know what to say."

"It's okay. There isn't much you can. By the way, the footage on that camera is a no go... can't exactly have people knowing we're around like this." I snapped my fingers, the camera making a bunch of weird clicking noises and then shutting off.

He picked up the camera, looking it over. "Did you delete all of the footage?"

"No. I actually gave you a little present on there so... you're welcome. I guess." I chuckled, walking into the hallway.

I waltzed towards the elevator for the Inn, an up button appear on the panel, glowing a dim white light. I clicked it, waiting for the doors to open.

He cocked his head, squinting his eyes at the doors. "The elevator doesn't work."

It softly 'dinged' and I smirked over at him. "It does for me."

He raced up to the doors, his eyes locking with mine. "I never caught your name."

My breath hitched, tears brimming at my eyes. I shouldn't feel sadness, but in this moment I did. Because I knew once I left him, I would never see him again. I turned my head to him, smiling as brightly as I could. "Y/N. My name is Y/N."

He smiled back. "Goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye Colby." I choked back a cry, "I love you."

~~~~

20 Years Later

Most angels, when turned into humans, lose all of their memories when it comes to their past lives. Especially guardian angels. We aren't meant to remember a thing about what we once were.

I was somehow blessed, or cursed, with remembering it all.

After being berated by management, I was turned into a human. I lived a relatively normal life, full of the usual heartache and suffering. And over time I became less of an angel and more human as the years went on.

Luckily for me, they didn't make me start out as a baby. I came down to Earth as a freshly new adult. I was now 34, working part time retail and part time in a bar in downtown Los Angeles.

So I was, essentially, sent to hell in at least one way.

I originally kept tabs on Colby, but slowly as time went on I stopped. It was hard to constantly watch him from the sidelines enjoy his life, even though that's what I used to do. I did check on him every so often, seeing how life was treating him. And he seemed fine; happy, even. And that's all I had wanted for him. I never went searching for him. I didn't think it was smart for me to do so. It all hurt too much that he was so close yet so far away at the same time.

But God always finds the sense of humor in things.

I wiped down the counter of the bar, getting rid of the droplets of alcohol left behind from the previous drink I made. Today had been slow, a regular Tuesday night. Things would start picking up some once it got later, but as of 10 pm, it made sense for it to be dead in the bar.

I heard the door to the bar cling open, a man walking towards the bar confidently. I barely registered him, stepping over to the touch screen to enter his order.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" I asked.

"Just a beer. Corona." The man's deep voice stated.

"Sounds like a good choice." I looked up at him, my eyes widening once I finally took him in. I could spot that face from anywhere. "Colby?"

He smiled meekly, giving a soft laugh. "God, I haven't gone by that in a while."

"Holy shit..." I studied his face; he looked oddly the same, just a bit older. Wrinkles and lines had etched itself kindly into his features, his hair no longer the emo cut he once had, but now pushed back. He had some facial hair, a mustache and goatee, that appeared to be lightly graying. He still dressed like he used to, all black.

"Do I know you from somewhere? Or are you a fan... of me?" He questioned hesitantly, handing me his card to pay for his drink.

"Um, yeah. You could say that." I choked out a laugh, swiping his card. "I used to watch you and Sam all the time back in the youtube days. But I haven't paid attention to you in a while, if I am honest."

"I'm not that interesting, so you didn't miss out on much," he smirked. "But I'm surprised. You look so young, I would have thought you knew me for my music."

"I did listen to your first album. It was a banger." I grinned.

His dimples appeared as he smiled back. "Thank you, thank you. I appreciate that."

I grabbed his Corona from the fridge, popping it open and handing it to him. "What made you stop doing youtube videos? If you don't mind me asking."

He sat down at the bar, cupping the bottle and taking a swig. "Well, me and Sam had a very close encounter with death. So much so, I was a bit freaked out with making content like that anymore. But then we saw the footage we caught, a full on apportion, and we stuck around a bit longer after that. We were all over the news, as proof of actual paranormal, which was actually crazy. But slowly over time, even though we were super successful, it became a bit too much for me. Plus, I wanted to settle down, meet someone. Have a family. And Sam felt the same after a while too. So we just... slowly stopped. Went our own ways."

I leaned towards him, "Are you guys still friends?"

He snickered, "Oh yeah. He literally lives next door to me. We get together every other weekend, or whenever we can, and just hang out in my backyard. Watch the kiddos play."

My jaw dropped at his words, "You have kids?"

"Two. Sam's got three, funny enough. My oldest is about to go into fourth grade. My youngest is in kindergarten." He took another sip, smiling. "It's fucking nuts how time flies."

"That's amazing. I know about the music, but didn't you also do some modeling after youtube as well?" I queried.

"Oh yeah, my very short lived modeling career," he mumbled bashfully. "Personally, while it was fun, I got a lot more of an enjoyment out of music."

I nodded, "What does Sam do now?"

"Well, after youtube, he spent a year traveling. Finding himself. Wrote a book about it, wrote another one the following year. Did a Ted Talk that went viral," he laughed. "Then he went on to do behind the scenes stuff, and now he runs his own management company for celebrities."

I raised an eyebrow, "And then found his wife somewhere in all of that?"

"Yep. Same as me." He closed his eyes, thinking, "I was touring, in the middle of my press run for my album, and I met my wife at a party and I just knew she was the one I wanted to be with forever."

My heart fluttered at his words, "That's really sweet. I'm so glad you got to do all of that."

"Yeah..." His voice trailed off, his eyes fixating on the bar. "At one point in time, I didn't think I would."

I replied, "Because of the close encounter?"

He nodded, picking at the label of his beer.

"What happened that night?" I pressed, lowering my voice.

"Well, um... do you want the story we told or the real one?" He questioned, his eyes growing cold.

"Both, if you're up for it." I challenged.

He sighed, "The story we gave is that I went out on the balcony, caught the woman in white, and almost fell off the balcony because of the railing being shit."

"And that's not what happened?" I questioned, already knowing the answer.

"No. I... was saved." He whispered, "By my guardian angel. And then she left, and I never saw her again."

"Did you want to see her again?" I asked, gazing into his eyes.

"Every night I prayed that she would reappear to me. But she never did. Sometimes I think I went crazy that night." He chuckled, "God knows Sam still to this day doesn't full believe me when I tell him what happened."

I breathed, "The railing was really shitty though. Even an ounce of weight would have cracked it."

"Exactly, exact-" He paused, looking up at me puzzled, "Wait how would you know?"

My voice trembled, "Because... I was there that night, Colby."

He shook his head, laughing bitterly. "No, you're not. You're not her."

"Yes I am, Colby. I'm not lying to you." I rebutted, walking around the bar to him.

He stood up, looking me over. "Right, then what's your name?"

"Y/N. My name is Y/N." I answered.

Colby's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes watering instantly. He whispered, "There's no way."

"I was there that night, Colby. I'm the one that saved you." I swallowed hard, holding back tears. "I'm sorry it took me twenty years to see you again."

"Y/N? Is it really you?" He came up to me, his eyes really taking me in, "You look so... human."

"I am," I laughed. "My punishment for breaking the rules."

He scrunched his face, "You told me you would get reassigned."

"I lied. I didn't want you to feel guilty for my decision." I admitted.

"Who watches over me now?" He questioned.

"Someone good, apparently. Since your life has been working out pretty well for you," I smirked. "I made sure that Vida would care to that."

He raised an eyebrow, "Vida?"

"Sam's guardian angel." I mentioned.

Colby grew quiet for a moment, just staring at me. I could feel my face warm as his stare intensified.

His chest heaved, a kind smile growing on his face. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." My eyes welled with tears as I embraced him tightly, his arms wrapping around me instantly. We stood for a moment, just holding one another.

He pulled back, his eyes bright. "Sam's gonna owe me so much money now."

I laughed, Colby joining in cheekily.

[mr-damian-s-power]

Why is Eda such a bad teacher?

How does it benefit the show for her to be bad at teaching? Well, I DO know why, because it desperately needed idiotic teen drama. But, for things that happen later on, I think Eda being a bad teacher is detrimental to the 'found family' aspect of the show.

Now, what makes her a bad mentor ? She's extremely lazy and often seems reluctant to teach Luz anything about magic. Most of the time, Luz either has to bribe Eda, blackmail her, or just go off and do something herself. Sure, the 'reluctant mentor' is a common trope, but they normally change in the story. I don't think Eda stops being a lazy teacher. I don't really blame Luz for wanting to go to Hexside considering Eda is gonna be so stubborn about teaching.

Here's the thing, I think that Eda eventually calling Luz and Co. her 'kids' feels unearned. Normally, I love these types of things! Someone calling a person they're not related to their family. But in Eda's case, she hasn't really earned that. Her unwillingness to teach Luz kinda drove her away, and now she's at the school Eda badmouths.

Secondly, there's the weird decision to have Eda open a school in the epilogue. Why? Why would she do that? She could barely teach ONE kid! Once again, it feels unearned. This is added onto my issue with the fact that it feels like the only reason Eda is a Wild Witch is so she can be lazy and doesn't have to get a proper job. She doesn't show much interest in magic or what she could do with it since she's not tied down by Coven rules, at least as far as I could see.

Here's my solution to this, and a little something extra:

-

In this hypothetical rewrite, Eda is very passionate about learning multiple types of magic, and so becomes a Wild Witch because she refused to simply pick one. One day, Luz shows up and begs to be her apprentice. Eda is still her grumpy and snarky self, so says no at first. Luz shows that she's not going to take no for an answer and is adamant she wants to learn magic. Eda chooses to humour her, reasoning the Human will give up in a few day's time.

But, a few days pass, and Luz is no less enthusiastic about learning magic than she was on day one. She's not just a kid way in over her head, she's genuinely determined to learn magic. Here's where we see that Eda is a very good teacher. She's more than willing to teach an eager young mind about magic, even if that kid can't naturally do magic. She'll still pass all of her knowledge onto Luz and teach her in areas that she can learn, such as potions.

Here's where another idea comes in. Owl House loves to think that it's very clever with 'subverting fantasy tropes', so here's one they should have done; Hexside is boring! The magical school is basic, rudimentary, formulaic and by-the-numbers. Eda badmouthing it makes more sense this time around, as it has an environment that restricts free thinking and creativity. Luz, in her naivete, is ecstatic about the chance to go there.

"Hexside? Pfft! Why would you wanna go to stuffy old Hexside? They don't teach ya THIS at that gilded prison!"

"It's a magic school, Eda! Think of all the things I could learn! Maybe they'll have a way Humans can do real magic!"

"Kid, Hexside is where creativity goes to die!"

"Come on, it can't be THAT bad!"

"Hmph, you think? Alright then, go there for one day and come back to me to see how it was!"

The next day, Luz sneaks into Hexside to see what it's like. There, she is bored to tears! The whole day is just reading through old textbooks, with little to no actual magic performing. When she asks about more exciting methods, her ideas are laughed at. While there, she can meet friends in Willow and Gus, who are just as sad in being restricted in their magic abilities. They want to expand their knowledge, but the curriculum just won't allow it. Later that day, Luz walks back to the Owl House with her head low.

"So, how was Hexside?" Eda asks smugly, to which Luz just sighs and sits down beside her, resting her chin on her hands. Eda's smile slowly vanishes as she realises that the events of today have very clearly upset the Human. "Not everything it was cracked up to be?" She asks, taking on a more sympathetic tone.

Luz tells how it was so boring and uneventful. Nothing like what she'd read a magic school could be like. Eda's only response is to shrug and say, "That's Hexside! The joy graveyard! Just stick by me, kid, I'll get you through this!" In this story, Eda is the 'fun teacher', who's exciting lessons contrast with the mundanity of Hexside.

The next time she has a lesson, Luz invites her new friends. Once again, Eda isn't sure about them, until they too prove that they truly do wish to learn more. This should have been Eda's character! She takes learning magic very seriously and won't stand for people who aren't 100% onboard.

As they have more lessons and the kids bond with their teacher, Eda's heart is melted by her new students and their antics. They bring her out of her shell, to the point where she stops referring to them as simply 'kids' and starts calling them 'my kids'. Their found family is far more organic!

Then, since Eda is so invested in educating young minds to her best abilities, this makes it all the more satisfying and earned when she opens a school once Belos has been defeated. She showed an interest in teaching, and got her dream job!

-

Thoughts?

[plainclothesdisaster]

Red Knight - Chapter 5

DP x DC | Dead on Main

Jason Todd encounters one Danny Fenton in the streets of Gotham and suddenly he's thrown into a world of ghosts and monsters. Will he embrace this life? Or will it just end up with him dead again?

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

---

“Gargoyles,” Danny proclaimed one night after theyʼd successfully captured a curse ghost.

Jason replied with an eloquent, “Huh?”

“Thatʼs what they kinda remind me of,” Danny spun the thermos in his hands. “The curse ghosts. They're like really messed up gargoyles.”

Jason thought about it and he was right. The curse ghosts were like if the gargoyles on Gothamʼs buildings had 20% more limbs and teeth and were made of goo instead of stone. Fitting really, for the embodiment of a curse on Gotham.

They perched on the roof of a building not far from an old tire shop where the curse ghost had reared its ugly head. A few gargoyles perched with them, thankfully all stone and completely motionless and definitely not cursed. Shadows crawled across them as occasional car headlights passed in the street below.

“The real question is if they're less nasty or more nasty than other curses you've fought?” Jason didnʼt know if Danny even had fought curse ghosts specifically before, but it seemed likely all things considered.

Danny paused, contemplating. “Every city has ghosts that haunt it. But none as bad as this, at least that I’ve seen. None that have such a distinct form. And none that have had such a strong effect on the living.”

“Arenʼt we special,” Jason grumbled.

Danny chuckled. “Very.”

“Good thing you came here to stop them.”

Danny frowned. “Well. Not exactly. If Stanford had accepted me Iʼd be bumping heads with the ghoulies under Alcatraz, but GU was my next choice.”

Jason’s train of thought came to a skittering halt. Danny wasn’t here to fight these ghosts specifically? He made it seem like taming the curse was the only way to keep Gotham from eating itself inside out. And it was clear that he was the only one actually trying to do something about it. Maybe the only one that could.

“Wait. Fixing the worst curse ever is just what you do in your free time between lectures?” Jason folded his arms.

Danny sighed. “Iʼm not a hero, remember? And I’m trying not to do ghost stuff full time. To do that I need to do human things. Like get a degree.”

“Who says you need a degree?” Jason’s voice pitched up, betraying his incredulity.

“NASA, definitely.” Danny wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead he tilted his head up to the sky, toward the few stars that dared to poke through the fog.

Jason bit back a laugh. He couldn’t be serious. Crime fighting- ghost hunting- whatever, it wasn’t something that you just did on the side. If there’s one thing Bruce taught him it was that civilian life was an afterthought, a persona that they had to play. Their real life, the life that mattered, was what happened once they donned their masks. And after Jason died he’d been freed from the responsibility of being a civilian at all.

Yet looking at the melancholy on Danny’s face he knew he was being sincere. It struck Jason that Danny had dreams, like real dreams, ones that didn’t involve stopping crime and saving cities and meting out justice.

It twisted something in his stomach. Dreams were a luxury Jason hadnʼt ever been able to afford. Not when he was young and fighting and stealing his way through the streets of Crime Alley. Not when he was fighting beside Bruce, desperately eager to fill the mantle of Robin. Not now, especially not now, when there was only the work of purging the rot from this city. The work that sent him back to the gutters and the alleys night after night, always looking down.

And there Danny was beside him, just as capable of fixing Gotham (or even more capable, he did begrudgingly admit), and it hadnʼt completely consumed him. He was still selfish enough to dream.

He was still looking up at the sky.

A pang of something like hatred smacked at the back of Jason’s teeth, ugly and hot. He couldn’t believe Danny’s selfishness. His naivety. Both incredibly stupid things to have in this line of work. And still Jason felt something else– a rumbling and an ache from the place under his heart. A pulling that tried to stretch across the space between them. He bit his tongue and shoved that feeling down.

//

Later that night when Jason couldn’t sleep he scoured the net for any more hits on Danny. He knew it would be easier if he just asked Tim for help. He bet that little creep could have the full dossier delivered within an hour, everything he wanted to know about Danny Fenton, but that would open Jason up to way more questions than he wanted to deal with. He still needed to keep this as far away from Bruce as possible for as long as possible.

His less than ideal search methods still yielded him a yearbook photo he hadn’t seen yet. The sister Danny mentioned– Jasmine Fenton. Turns out she was attending Stanford, psychology major. Stanford, where Danny could have been instead of Gotham. Fighting some other city’s ghosts. And Jason would have continued to be unaware of and unable to do anything about Gotham’s curse. Or his own.

He turned his attention to digging up anything he could on the Fenton parents. No real estate records, no taxes, not even driver’s licenses. But no death certificates either. Jason didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. What he did know is that they were equally as erased as their son.

He found himself drifting away from Fenton research and on to the question that nagged at him in a different way– how to predict where the curse ghosts would show up. The data from Danny’s thumb drive was already on his computer and he dutifully logged the coordinates and relevant details from that night’s encounter, another dot among hundreds on the map of Gotham.

Jason had already whittled through all the possible easy connections. Haunted places, typical goon hide outs, historic sites, even fucking ley lines– none of them had enough correlation to be a valuable predictor. Or even a decent lead.

As much as he had practiced taming his frustration, another fruitless night with no answers had him sulking. He felt certain that figuring out the curse ghosts would also help him figure out Danny. And figure out himself. He couldn’t deny that he hadn’t felt even a hint of the Pit’s clawing rage since his nightly escapades with Danny became more frequent. He considered Danny’s offer– to make the fix permanent. And Jason believed him now, that he actually did want to help.

But he couldn’t accept that offer. He wouldn’t. Not until he was sure what it really meant. Maybe if and when they solved the curse problem for good, maybe then he would accept Danny’s help.

But not yet.

//

“Try something for me.”

Danny stopped mid patrol loop of known curse hotspots. Jason followed his gaze and saw a curse ghost rummaging through a demolition site where a condemned apartment once stood.

“Blast it-” Jason pulled a gun, finger ready at the trigger- “Wait!” Danny held up his hands to stop him. “First, see if you can hold the energy back before you release it.”

Danny held his palms out over one another and a ball of familiar green energy formed between them in demonstration. “Let it build up and grow.”

He focused for a moment and the ball grew larger, spun faster. He widened his palms as the ball grew, crackling with potential energy. He let it linger just a moment before— a twist of his wrist and it dissipated.

“I don’t think it works like that for me.”

“Just try it,” Danny cajoled. “I’d be a bad ghost mentor if I didn’t try to teach you how these powers work.”

Jason rolled his eyes. This felt like some kind of test, and the way Danny looked at him with rapt attention all but confirmed that. Did he truly want to help? Or Did he want to gauge how much Jason could push the limits of this power? Still, Jason’s own curiosity won out in the end.

He began by focusing on the feeling he got when he shot his usual energy bullets, allowing it to prickle through his chest and underneath his skin. Rather than let it out immediately, as he’d always done, he did as Danny instructed and held it back. He focused on his pistol. As he did, a small green sphere formed at the end of the gun.

Slowly he fed more energy to it. It grew, just as Danny’s had, spinning faster. His heart accelerated at the same pace, straining against the pull of the power. He gritted his teeth. His head felt hot, like it did when he let his rage get the better of him. Danny’s eyes glinted, reflecting the green glow with impish delight.

The sphere grew to baseball size, then basketball. Then it grew larger than that, so large he couldn’t even see the beast he was aiming at anymore. Danny said simply, “Now.”

Jason pulled the trigger. A massive green fireball exploded out of the end of his pistol, burning across the pile of wreckage. The ghost finally looked up just in time to take the blast directly to its side. It wailed in terrible unearthly tones as the green fire swallowed it.

Danny whooped in triumph. Meanwhile, Jason’s knees wobbled and he fell to all fours in the dirt. He felt suddenly cold, in that terrible clammy way right after a fever breaks.

Danny looked over as if to share the celebration but his face fell as he saw Jason.

“Shit,” he said, kneeling next to him. “You okay?”

“Yeah I— yeah.” Jason panted, swallowing a few dry breaths.

Every time he’d used this power before, he’d let it out instantly, through his guns or his gadgets. He’d never actually let it sit or take the time to feel it properly. Now he wished he hadn’t.

Using that power felt like his worst memories of the Pit, unnatural and cloying like he could still feel the waters dripping off of him. It tasted like grave dirt in his mouth.

But as he raised his head he saw the damage he’d done. There was a fucking crater the size of his living room blasted through the remains of a concrete foundation. No sign of the curse ghost. He did that.

He laughed, all shaky breath. Maybe he could get used to it. He’d have to. He didn’t have a choice but to use it against the curse ghosts. He’d be useless in fights against them otherwise.

“Let’s head back,” Danny offered.

“Yeah.” Jason ignored the small tremor in his hand as he holstered his pistol and started to get his feet back underneath himself.

Jason was halfway to standing when out of nowhere he took a hit. A force crashed into his gut from behind like a cannonball and he barely registered a curse ghost underneath him- it looked like a rhino with way way too many horns- before it flung him ten feet across the demo site and sent him careening into the rubble. He tumbled over broken concrete and snarled rebar, hard-trained muscle memory kicking in to relax his muscles enough to not take the worst of it anywhere he didn’t want to.

He blinked the dizziness from his eyes as he settled. Fuck that hurt. He felt a trickle of blood running down his face. The helmet was padded just enough to protect him from concussions. Didn’t help much with the biological nightmare that was the human nose though. He took the helmet off to keep the blood from pooling in his mouth, leaving him in just his domino mask.

“Jason?” He heard Danny shout.

“Mmfine,” was what he managed to reply as he pushed himself up. It took him a few tries to find his legs. They were still wobbly from the expenditure of power before.

Across the demo field Danny fought the new curse ghost with his usual evasive style. His mouth a hard set line as he ducked beneath swipes from many-angled horns and he responded with blasts of his own, cornering the ghost handily.

Then his gaze landed on Jason and he paused, eyes wide.

His stance went rigid. He snapped around unnaturally fast to face the curse ghost, a total shift from his flighty movements from a moment before. His gaze was sharp, cast in stark shadows from the streetlights, and impossibly, dangerously green. He raised a palm toward the ghost, slowly. And then a nuclear blast went off.

Or at least thatʼs what it felt like. Jason lifted an elbow to shield his eyes from the blinding green light. Surprisingly it wasn’t hot. Instead it felt like the air pressure had been turned up, as if the whole atmosphere was somehow heavier around them, pressing in from all sides, making it harder to breathe.

It lasted only a moment. When Jason lowered his shielding arm there was no sign of the curse ghost. No other damage from the blast either. Just scraps of shadow floating on the wind, dissipating as they rose up.

Danny lowered his hand. A bit of a glow still lingered around him like a halo, a silver outline that shimmered on top of his skin. Jason’s heart raced drunkenly as he stayed rooted to his spot. He wasn’t sure he trusted his legs to move. Danny still looked at the empty space where the ghost had been, his gaze still burning with an overwhelming power. One that Jason was very thankful to not have directed at him. Still, something stirred in his chest like a tug on a wire. The sweet sharp tang of adrenaline saturated his fear. He wasn’t sure if he could stomach that oppressive attention, but a reckless part of him craved it.

Then Danny shifted his stance again. He seemed to shrink back into himself, the glow dimming to a level that passed as human. He turned to Jason with something like guilt on his face, no hint of the commanding presence he held a moment earlier.

“Are you okay?” Danny spoke gently, but his fists were still clenched.

“Yeah. Yeah Iʼm fine,” Jason replied before he even really took stock of his injuries, but as he did he saw he hadn’t lied. The bleeding from his nose had mostly stopped. It hadnʼt been that bad in the first place.

“I think thatʼs enough for tonight.” Danny breathed, finally, releasing the last of his tension. He wouldnʼt meet Jasonʼs eyes.

It had been a while since anyone had saved him. He didn’t have anyone who watched his back, hadn’t for a long time. Strictly speaking, tonight he would have been fine even without the save. Probably.

While he was thankful that Danny covered his ass, it also annoyed him that he thought he had to.

“Thanks,” he grumbled, and then finally Danny looked at him with soft attention.

“You’re sure you’re okay? If it’s a concussion-“

“I’m fine,” Jason said, using his thumb to brush away the drying blood under his nose.

Danny just looked at him with naked concern, his fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them, mouth pressed in a firm line. He took a breath as if to voice another worry but Jason cut him off with a resigned sigh.

“Look, if you're so worried why donʼt you come back to mine.” If it got Danny to stop nagging he didn’t mind burning a safehouse.

Danny nodded, mutely accepting the invite.

Jason led him back to his latest safehouse, a corner loft of an abandoned building, only accessible by rooftop. The walk there had proved that Jason wasn’t hurt bad, though Danny’s eyes kept going back to the blood on his face.

Once inside, Danny sat down on the couch. It was the only real piece of furniture in the house besides his half-broken bed. Jason felt less like a shitty host because truly it was equally as dingy as the one in Danny’s own apartment.

“Want a beer?” Jason asked from the kitchen, as he finished up rummaging his way through some makeshift first aid. The slapdash brace on his nose wasn’t his finest work, but eh. It would heal fine. It always did.

“You drink?” Danny seemed suspiciously surprised. “For me the accelerated healing makes any normal alcohol consumption pretty pointless.”

Jason froze with his hand on the fridge. “Oh. Huh.” That would explain why he had to down a whole handle and a half to feel anything. “No shit.”

Zombie-like he pulled a six pack out of the fridge. He set it down on the coffee table in front of Danny as he fell onto the couch next to him.

A part of him had still not fully believed the whole half ghost thing. Fighting ghosts was one thing. Being one was another. The tech helped maintain the illusion quite well- he had ghost power cuffs that made him invisible and ghost power socks that let him float. That explanation was easy to swallow.

But no gadget could explain why wounds that should take weeks to recover from only took him days. Couldn’t explain why he didn’t get drunk.

But there was a good explanation. A simple one too.

He wasnʼt fully human.

Shit.

Jason grabbed a beer from the coffee table, popped it with his thumb, and downed it in one long pull.

“Batman doesnʼt like metas in Gotham.” He didn’t look at Danny. He wasn’t really even talking to him. He tossed the beer bottle to the floor.

“Weʼre not metas,” Danny said, a gentle echo of what he’d said the first night they met.

“It doesn’t matter. Meta, supernatural, itʼs all the same. All are a dangerous liability in this city. You- we- count.” Jason opened another beer. Downed it. Waited to feel any hint of the alcohol hitting him. Nothing.

He could, however, feel Danny looking at him. “Iʼm not afraid of Batman.”

Jason didnʼt look back. He fiddled with the empty beer bottle, tossed it on the floor with the other one. Of course Danny wasnʼt afraid of Batman. Jason had no doubts which way that fight would go if it ever came to it.

That was an awful image to consider– Batman getting his ass handed to him by some nobody punk in jeans– and all the more reason that Bruce should never know about any of this. The curse ghosts, Danny, Jason’s own burgeoning ghost powers- more secrets he had to keep. More reasons to keep all the Bats at arm's length.

And if they ever did find out? No way their shaky truce could weather that. It’d be another war.

“Heʼs- well, they all are I guess- kind of my family. All Iʼve got left of one, anyway.” The words spilled out. He didn’t want a war with them. He never had.

Danny let out a long breath. “Oh. Family.” He laughed a sad laugh. “My parents tried to kill me. Multiple times actually. I donʼt blame them– theyʼre ghost hunters and well, they looked at me and saw a ghost.”

Danny reached for a beer. He pulled out two and handed one to Jason. He took it. “So at least it canʼt be as bad as that with yours?”

Jason grumbled. “Judging by how it went the first time I came back from the dead? It will be an absolute shitshow.”

Danny clinked his beer against Jasonʼs and took a long swig. “I dunno. I think Bruce might come around if you give him a chance.”

Jason straightened his spine, suddenly alert, alarm bells ringing in his head. “Bruce?”

Danny deflated, suddenly sheepish. “Ah. Whoops.”

That all but confirmed it. Jason groaned. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, Danny somehow knew one of Gotham’s most dangerous secrets. “How did you find out?”

“You can probably guess.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasnʼt hard with a little ghostly snooping. It was one of the first things I did when I got to Gotham. I wanted to know just to double avoid him, honest.”

It wasnʼt hard to imagine any number of ways Danny could have uncovered Batman’s identity. Heʼd recognized Jason with and without his mask, but he figured that was because Danny had a sense for ghosts and, well, whatever he was. He hadnʼt considered how easy unmasking the Batman would be for him even without that trick.

“If he finds out you know, you’re dead.”

“I already am. Besides, I thought Batman had a strict no-kill policy?”

Ultimately this changed very little. Just another nail in the coffin of the strict Batman avoidance protocol. Still, he wished Danny would be a little less blase about the whole thing.

Fuck it. In for a penny, he couldn’t un-learn all the ghost shit that had turned his life upside down. He downed the beer. Danny was right the first time. It didnʼt matter what Bruce thought. He couldnʼt stop them from fighting curse ghosts. And it was truly none of his business. Danny sipped his beer with a grimace. Jasonʼs heart twisted.

“How do you stand the taste of this stuff?” Danny asked, a hint of a smile.

“It’s not about the taste. It's about the feeling.” Or lack of one. Jason thought maybe he felt the slightest tingle of tipsiness, but it could just be placebo.

Danny looked at him with that same casual intensity. He could tell his eyes lingered on his half-broken nose. Still worrying over him. Why? Why did he care if Jason got hurt? Jason stared back, trying to get a read on any of the real thoughts behind Danny’s eyes.

The silence stretched out, wide open.

Danny broke it first. “Sorry, uh. I guess I should get going.”

Jason took a beat and remembered how to breathe. “You good? Donʼt drink and fly.”

“I donʼt feel a thing,” Danny smirked. “Still, Iʼll walk.”

“You sure? You could always just crash here tonight.” The words spilled out of him before he could think better of it. He and Danny both froze, like the air has been sucked from the room. He stared at the empty six pack on the coffee table, swatting away any thoughts that dared surface, fighting the rising heat in his cheeks and desperately trying to keep his face blank.

“Itʼs okay,” Danny said finally, quietly releasing Jason from his turmoil. “Iʼll see you tomorrow?” Jason dared a look at Danny then. Warmth in his half smile like a sweater, a glint in his eye that made him feel lightheaded.

Danny stood and left, closing the door gently behind himself. Jason breathed out into the empty apartment. It felt suddenly cavernous and dead without Danny in it.

It shouldn’t mean anything but it did. Friends crashed on each other’s couches regularly, didn’t they? Jason didn’t have much experience with friends, if that’s what he and Danny were. This invitation certainly crossed that threshold. But he’d been careless. All the unknowns were still dangerous. He couldn’t let this be more than a working relationship. A partnership of convenience.

He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Pain, tender and sharp, sprung up beneath them. He sighed at the comforting familiarity of it. Then he flopped face first onto his bed, alone.

[lollytea]

how do think willow and hunter first talked about them being bi/pan? or do you think it's just so accepted on the boiling isles that they probably would never bring it up?

(This ask is from back when we got the bi/pan confirmation and I've been saving it, kinda thinking of putting effort into writing something cute and good quality. However I ended up waking up from a nap while the Q&A was happening and somebody told my confused disoriented ass that Zeno was talking about Hunter exploring his identity and going on dates while in the human realm. And I tapped out something very messy and stream of consciousness-y in my notes app in my sleepy state. So you're getting this instead. I don't feel like cleaning it up.)

Like like like it's. Luz putting together her little coming out slideshow for Camila. And the topic of sexualities comes up. And Amity and Willow puzzle out what theirs are nearly immediately. Gus doesn't but he's unfazed by it. While Hunter is like....I...can't say for certain and its bothering me. Like this is a THING that has a chance of helping him feel like more of a person. He wants his very own flag. He just doesn't know what it is yet. He'd like to know.

He likes Willow. He knows he likes Willow. But...there isn't a flag for liking Willow. (As far as he knows. He's thinking of making one. But for now he's stumped.)

There's a very specific route the kids take to the grocery store to collect stuff for Camila. Hunter likes to take the task because he likes feeling useful. Willow also likes to help but she'd be lying if she said another reason wasn't long walks with Hunter. Usually one of the other kids tags along too. Or more than one. But today it's just Hunter and Willow.

They always pass that damn statue but Hunter always averts his eyes and hopes Willow does too. He doesn't like to look at it. But maybe if he turned his gaze towards it every once in a while he'd notice the boy who always sits beneath the statue with a little handheld game console. The boy who always lifts his head when Hunter strolls by.

This is the day when the boy chooses to be brave. There's no gaggle of friends around him today. Just one girl. This is it. This is his chance. The boy marches up to Hunter and Willow in a way that Hunter immediately clocks as similar to his own Golden Guard body language. When he was trying to feel big but failing miserably.

The boy IS big tho. That's the weird thing. Tall with broad shoulders and chunky arms. A cluster of metal pierced into his left ear and a silver stud in his nose. He looks....so cool. So very very cool. Hunter misses the first words out of this dude's mouth cuz he was too busy looking at him and he needs to repeat himself.

So. Hm. Okay. Well. APPARENTLY. Piercings boy thinks Hunter is cute. Which is a staggering revelation that leaves Hunter a little speechless. And if that weren't surprising enough, he's now pushing a little piece of paper in Hunter's direction, babbling something about talking some time. Or maybe going out, whatever.

While all this is going down Willow just.....watches. Smiling. Nudging Hunter when it's his turn to speak and he's forgotten. It's cute. He gets like that with her sometimes too. It made her feel very cool and pretty that she made such a handsome boy nervous. But now....she's watching this little interaction play out and she's realizing....

Hunter's obvious little crush on her. Just how easy would it go away if he met somebody cooler. Somebody prettier. Somebody who's not clearly living a lie and hiding everything from everyone all the time. Somebody brave enough to actually ask him out.

It seems like just as she's getting comfortable in these kinds of situations, an Amity always sweeps in. And that's fine. She's used to it by now.

And also...she....she really cares about Hunter. He's been getting so much happier and experimental in the Human Realm. She wants him to try new things. She wants him to figure out who he really is. And....maybe that version of himself won't always have a little crush on Willow Park. Maybe he'll realize that there's better people out there. And that's okay. Whatever it takes for him to smile.

There's something very ugly writhing in her stomach and Willow pretends it's not there. Instead she yanks up her smile wider and as the mystery boy strides away, she pounces on Hunter. She teases him a little, she asks why he got so very shy. Is it because he liiiiiiiikes Mr Mystery Boy huh? And Hunter doesn't know what to say. He doesn't KNOW Mr Mystery Boy. Willow counters that's what the number is for. That's what dates are for. After a long back-and-forth discussion, its Willow that urges him to dial that number. They have to borrow Camila's phone. And Willow stands there as moral support as Hunter stumbles through the question.

Hunter has a date this Saturday. Which is very exciting. And also weird. And scary. He blushes whenever you bring it up. But Willow happily hypes him up for it every day leading up to it.

On Saturday, Hunter leaves the house at mid day and Willow sees him off, waving enthusiastically. He smiles softly and waves back at her, still twitchy with nerves. She gives a finger guns and assures him it's gonna go fine. He's a catch! This makes him giggle and she swells with pride.

The door clicks shut. Hunter is gone. It feels like a light has been sucked out of the household. Willow's smile slips.

She could head upstairs and hang out with the other girls. She could go down to the basement with Gus. But....right now she'd prefer to be alone.

Willow cleans the kitchen, which Camila is very grateful for once she gets home from work. And then she settles in the living room, snuggles up on the couch and throws something on the TV. Willow sits there and watches for hours. She barely processes any of it. And yet, she's simultaneously so wrapped up in the television that she doesn't hear the door click.

"Eyyyyy, I'm back," Hunter says in that awkward way he always announces his return. And just like that, a light switches and Willow is all zazzed again.

"Ooooooh Casanova has returned!!" She chirps. "A little.....earlier than I expected....?"

Hunter looks a little sheepish but doesn't comment on that. Willow thumps the couch cushion opposite her. "Cmere boy. Tell me everything."

Hunter sits down beside her and after turning to look at her huge grin, he smiles warmly.

"What?" She asks.

"Nothing."

"You gonna tell me how it went?"

"Fine. Um. Normal. For a date. I think? I dunno I've never been on one but I'm pretty sure I did an okay job."

Willow decides to rip the bandaid off immediately. "Any lip action?"

Hunter's reaction was a funny choking noise and a volatile flush across his neck "No!" He blurted. "Just...."

"Juuuuust?"

"Just hands! He held my hand! He held my hand and it was nice! I liked it!"

"Oh."

It's nice that Hunter got his hand held. He has such pretty hands. She's always thought they were very holdable. She's really happy. She's delighted. Just great.

She's a good person who is happy when good things happen to her friends, Titandamn it. And not a secretly ugly resentful person who wishes for selfish things.

"Yeah and. Uh..." He's scrubbing the back of his neck. "We...um. Ended up talking. A lot."

"About date number two, no doubt...." Willow sings.

"There's not going to be a date number two," Hunter answers immediately, knocking Willow out of her depth.

.....huh?

"I....thought you liked him?" She asks.

"I mean. Yeah. He's. He's nice but...but when I said we talked a lot...I might have told him that...." Hunter trails away.

"Told him what?"

There's a pause before Hunter speaks again, his voice a little higher pitched. "Oh! J-just. Just told him about a ton of stuff. Told him I like birds. And I like to read. And...and about Camila being a vet and....and I talked a lot about my friends. Gus. A-and Luz and Amity. And Vee. And uh. And you. And....we...we both decided that this probably wasn't gonna work out."

"Oh...." Willow....doesn't know how to feel about this. She doesn't have to pretend to be disappointed because she really is. Her friend had a chance to have a sweet little romance with somebody cute. And it just didn't work out. "I'm sorry, Hunter,"

But Hunter shakes his head. "I'm not disappointed. I actually....um. I liked it. I've never been on a date before and it....I dunno, it made me feel like a real teenager. Which is dumb to say because I know I AM a real teenager but..."

He perks up. "Oh! Oh and-and um...." His words tumble one over the other though there's a grin tugging at the corner of his lip. "Josh and I we....we figured it out. Me. We...we figured out me. I'm..."

He catches himself and clears his throat, extending a hand to her. "Hi, Willow! My name is bisexual!...Wait! Wait, no! Hunter! My name is....I'm bisexual and I'm Hunter! I...Agh!! Josh said I should come out to you in a smooth way but...."

Willow is grinning ear to ear, always transfixed by his frequent fumbles over the complicated act of putting words together. "You're bisexual!" She declares happily. "Hunter that's fantastic!"

Hunter's smile is soft but there's a hint of pride there too. "Yeah...thanks. I know it is...."

A pause.

"I have completely forgotten what bisexual means tho," Admits Willow.

"O-oh! Oh it's just um. I-I like multiple genders. Today I found out for certain that boys are....wow...."

Willow smirks. "Boys are wow?"

"Well.....arent they?"

She thinks about it for a moment, raking her eyes across the splotchy blush still clinging to his pretty face. Her insides are in a riot of fluttering flower petals.

"I guess they are," She agrees fondly.

"But also I...." He cuts himself off with a sudden bout of breathlessness. He inhales sharply. "Girls..."

"Girls," Repeats Willow expectantly.

Hunter, who has cut his gaze down to his tangling fingers, looks back up at her, manages to hold eye contact for a few very telling extra seconds and says, very clearly. "Girls."

"I see..." Willow is a little frustrated to find that she's also a little short of breath. "So maybe your next date will be with a girl then,"

Hunter's blush flares. "I'd like it to be..." He mumbles. "But..."

"Buuuuuut?"

There's some sort of internal battle raging on. She can see it in the violent twist and turns of his facial expressions. Finally, his throat bobs. "Nothing." He answers.

"Sorry...." He continues. "For coming home early. I just really wanted to...." Why does he keep trailing off? "It looks like you were trying to have some time to yourself. I can leave if...."

"You stay right here, Mr heartbreaker," Says Willow. "Stay here and watch weird human crystal ball shows with me."

A stiffness she didn't notice until now melts out of his shoulders. "Okay. I'd like that. A lot."

Hunter attempts to shuffle into a comfortable position, but what he's not prepared for is his friend Willow suddenly lunging and knocking him against the cushions in a tight tackle hug.

"Congratulations on your name being Bisexual," She mutters against the fabric of his shirt. "I like being the first one told,"

"N-no problem...." His voice cracks a little.

It takes maybe three minutes of comfortable silence and human realm TV babbling for Hunter to pipe up "And I'm not a heartbreaker. I didn't break anyone's heart."

"You could," Willow answers smoothly, not taking her eyes off the TV. "You have way more power over some people's hearts than you realize."

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter four: walking slow (i’m all alone) | read chapter three

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5k

━ warnings: blood, minor injury

━ masterlist

“So, what brings you to Keystone? Internship?”

You watch Flash serve himself a cherry Slurpee. Then after a moment of contemplation, pick up another cup and serve blue raspberry. 

Your eyebrows raise but you still answer. “Yeah. Internship.”

“You go to GU, then? Who are you working for?”

You blink and he’s at the counter, one blue raspberry Slurpee set in front of you, with him already sipping on his as he awaits your answer. 

“I’m here for Quickstart.”

“Quickstart, huh? Workin’ with Jesse Chambers?”

“Hardly. I’m just an underling with the PR department.” 

The company’s main location was in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, anyway, so Jesse Chambers, Quickstart Enterprises’ CEO, could be found there. Not to say she didn’t drop into Keystone’s location, though. She did. Quite frequently, according to your supervisor. 

“So you came all the way out here for it. They have a location in Gotham, don’t they?”

“Harder to get into,” you say dryly. “Plus, I couldn’t afford to study abroad, so this is the next best thing.”

He laughs. The sound surprises you, mostly because it sounds genuine. Any attempts to squash down your own pleasure at making him—a world renowned superhero—laugh that way fails tremendously. Oh, well. You’re only human. Anyone would appreciate making one of these guys genuinely laugh. If you made Wonder Woman laugh, you think your life would be complete. You could die there and wouldn’t be upset about it.

(Flash is cool but he’s not that cool, sorry.) 

His laughter tapers off, a smile lingering behind. He gestures to the Slurpee. 

“That’s for you, you know.”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

“Assume.”

Your lips twitch. “Thank you. I’ll pay for it.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Kid, I wouldn’t get it for you and make you pay for it. That’s messed up. I’m paying for it.”

“You don’t—”

“So!” He belches, then pats his stomach. “‘Scuse me. What’s the dream, then? Y’wanna work at Quickstart after you graduate?”

You sip at the Slurpee. “Not necessarily… but I wouldn’t say no to it.”

“Then?”

You lift a shoulder. “Wayne Enterprises, probably.”

“Ooh. The big one. Not LexCorp? I hear the going rate for a spokesperson there is high…”

“Yeah, because they have to constantly field rumors about illicit R&D projects and illegal Kryptonite shipments.”

He barks a laugh and you shake your head, smiling. 

“Yeah, no, I’ll pass. WE has a better track record and they still pay well.”

“True enough. Probably also less likely to be indicted as an accomplice for something or another.”

“Exactly.”

“Ever thought about the Titans? Or the League?” 

“And be at constant risk of kidnapping or death?”

“To be fair, I think you have that risk when working at Wayne Enterprises, too. And also, we are obligated by contract to rescue any and all employees that get kidnapped.”

“The fact that that is a clause in an employee contract is a bit of a red flag.”

“Or a green flag,” he counters. “Wayne probably doesn’t have that. If you get kidnapped, that’s it. You’re just—gone.”

“That’s… a comforting thought.”

“Just sayin’. Though I guess the average person would be much happier with something ‘normal’ like WE. Family and loved ones, too.”

You nod thoughtlessly. “If my parents were alive, I’m sure they’d prefer that.”

He blinks. You wince. Right…

You take a sometimes flippant approach to the death of your parents; if anyone makes dead parent jokes the most between you and Tim, it is definitely you, though they never cease to amuse him and Steph. 

“It’s nothing,” you say in the next moment, glancing up at him. “Sorry.”

He huffs. “Jeez, what are you apologizing for? If anyone should—”

“It’s fine, Flash. It happened when I was a teenager. I have a bad habit of joking about it just to… not make things too heavy.”

“Sure. Sure. I get it. I’m, like, the leading authority on using comedy as a defense mechanism.”

You laugh. “Very self-aware.”

“I try.” He pauses, head tilting as he looks at you. “I am sorry, though. That they’re gone.”

You smile bracingly and shrug. “Can’t change it. But thanks.”

“And it’s cool what you want to do. Really. Good luck at Quickstart.”

You smile and it feels genuine.  

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

He gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up, then he’s gone, blue lightning zapping in his wake, fine hairs on your arms raising because of it. The accompanying gust of wind knocks some stuff off the shelves but you don’t mind.

Flash isn’t so bad. Not bad at all.

“So… what’s your story?”

“In the present, I am being harassed by a vigilante—”

A soft groan. “Come on. You know what I mean.”

You suppress a smile, fixing the display of Lays chips. Next to you, Red Robin watches you for a moment, then does the same for a display of Takis.

“Don’t you already know?”

“What makes you say that?”

People call Batman the world’s greatest detective. You’re sure the trait has to pass down to his underlings.

You relay that to Red, who huffs.

“We are not his underlings. That’s a little offensive, you know.”

“You know what I mean,” you say, throwing his earlier words back to him, stepping over to the candy section, organizing packs of gummy bears and gummy worms. 

You partially expect him to get annoyed again but he lets out a soft snicker, amused by something. Your gall, maybe.

But after thinking about it for a while, you are the person with the advantage here. After all, Steph and Tim know you are getting vigilantes as visitors. Even if you piss him or any of the others off, if they do something, you very much trust your friends to raise hell about it. 

And, well, there is something deceptively familiar about Red Robin. Enough so to lure you into this weird sense of comfort. Like he’s a friend or something.

(Which is ridiculous. You know that. But you can feel that way as long as you acknowledge it.)

“Pass me some gummy bears? Thanks. Well, it is true that I could get that information—”

“Not have?”

“I like to give people the benefit of doubt.”

“Really?”

“Give me a break,” he complains but you catch the twitch of his lips as he fights a smile. 

“Alright,” you relent. “You were saying?”

He shrugs. “A record is just a record. It’s not the full picture, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“So.” He makes an aimless gesture to you. “Fill in the gaps for me?”

You finally chuckle. “There’s not much to tell, Red. I was born here. Have lived here all my life. Parents are dead. Died in the earthquake. That’s really it.” 

“Sorry about your parents,” he offers.

“It’s fine.”

“But that can’t be it.”

“You seem very certain about that.”

“W-Well,” he stammers, making your eyebrows raise. “Just—call it a hunch.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say doubtfully. “Is there something specific you’re after?”

He relaxes some. “I mean… you’re in school, right?” 

You nod, deciding to pause your work right now to focus on this conversation, a bit curious yourself as to why he even wants to know. 

To better his reputation, perhaps. It is not wrong to say you have your own reservations regarding the city’s vigilantes but again, that’s just a side effect of their effective management of it—ruling by fear. Why change that for you? You’re no one special. 

“So… what do you want to do when you graduate? Any hopes and dreams? Anywhere you want to work?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You sound like my friends,” you say, shaking your head.

Steph knows where you’d like to work. The answer has been the same since you started college and picked your major. The dream is somewhere like Wayne Enterprises. One of the few companies that you actually trust, that you think are doing good work for the world. 

But you obviously can’t say that to Tim, whose adoptive father owns the company. 

Steph says you can. That he’s not going to think you’re telling him that to get a leg-up in the application process. You believe it, too. You’ve known Tim long enough for at least that. But it’s still a little bit embarrassing.

“It can’t be that bad. It’s not, like… LexCorp, right?”

You laugh. “No way. Of course not.”

His lips curve, seemingly pleased by something. “Then?”

You scratch your cheek. “I dunno. Wayne Enterprises, I guess. They’re not… the worst.”

“No LexCorp, that’s for sure.”

“Half of the appeal.”

“What’s so wrong with wanting to work there?” he asks next, head tilting.

“Ah, you know…” you say evasively, turning to resume your work. “Everyone and their dog wants to work there. For a good reason, of course. I dunno. Guess I just feel a little basic for it.”

That’s a lie, of course. You’re embarrassed because of your connection to Tim and his connection to the company. Like out of all the companies that you actually want to work at… it’s the one his adoptive father owns. It’s the one where Tim himself had a brief stint as major shareholder when he was seventeen. Where he worked there for several years and only recently began cutting his work back…

He sits on that for a while, following you around like a persistent puppy as you organize things. 

“I think it’s a cool aspiration,” he eventually says after he helps carry a box of candy and chips to be restocked, kneeling on the shitty tiled floors to help you.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“And I don’t think you should be embarrassed about it… they try to do good at WE. Nothing wrong with wanting to join to help that.”

“Well, it’s not that selfless. I’d really be there to get them publicity and cover up scandals.”

He snickers. “Still. I’m sure your friends would support you, too.”

“They would,” you agree, sighing. 

“Is that bad?”

“It’s complicated,” you say vaguely.

“Un-complicate it.”

“Not a word. Also not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?”

The box with the chips is full of those styrofoam packing peanuts. You grab a bag of chips, then one of the packing peanuts, tossing it at him. He barely reacts as it bounces off the bridge of his nose, looking steadily at you. 

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I don’t know. I’m curious.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“You’re curious? Is that specific to now or in general? Because…” Can’t help but prod just a little at his intentions because it surely has to be something more than trying to prove a point. 

“Is it concerning for you to have my curiosity?” he asks lightly.

“Befuddling is a better word. You still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

You have entirely abandoned the task at hand. Red is fine to stay crouching, not even once swaying on his feet as he shifts to face you more fully, but you are not him, so you settle on the tile, legs crossed underneath you as you look at him expectantly.

He tilts his head. You can’t help the way your eyes cling to the shift of his dark hair. It feels so familiar to you. Everything about him. Although this moment, the sudden tension, is not so familiar. The worst part is you can’t even decide whether it’s good tension or bad tension. He’s… annoying. 

(Beguiling, really.)

He sighs, the sound amused rather than tired, and your eyes can’t help but catch the lift of his lips. Pink and… very soft-looking. 

“Alright, fine,” he says. “I’m curious in general about you. As for the why… you’re not the worst company I’ve ever kept.”

“And considering—”

“Considering the company I keep are the others, who are fine within their own right, as well as the likes of criminals, you’re a breath of fresh air.”

Your face goes hot. “So, the bar isn’t very high.”

“What, do you care for what I think?” he asks and something about his tone, gently teasing, makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

“Of course not.”

“Really? Sort of seems like you do.”

Can’t deny that. Not with how flustered you’re growing. So, you deflect.

“And you?”

“I admit to it,” he says easily, shrugging, still smiling. “Like I said, you’re not the worst company I’ve ever kept. I like you. I want to learn more about you. And manage to stay on your good side, too.”

“You aren’t doing a good job.”

He leans forward, curve of his lips settling into something almost like a smirk. “Aren’t I?”

You glower at him. “You suck, you know that?”

He leans back, pleased as the cat that got the canary. “Whatever you say.”

Ugh.

It was a particular kind of pathetic to be treasuring all the things Tim ever gave you since he, you know, doesn’t talk to you much these days.

But you have to get your Tim Drake fill in somehow.

Today’s activity is the few playlists he’s ever shared with you, mostly alternative and indie, playing on the speakers overhead. Though it includes more than a couple Bruce Springsteen songs as well, again, in homage of his father. You and Steph can hardly tease him about it, other than maybe a poke at his affinity for listening to older groups, like Oasis. 

Either way, you aren’t thinking of making fun of him for it.

Mostly, you just miss him. 

Like you always do these days, accompanied with the usual soul-crushing guilt at the fact, at the why behind it. 

In this moment, however, you are not so willing to partake in the usual moral quandary or self-flagellation. 

Like you said, mostly, you’re caught up in missing him. 

“You know, I realized I never got around to asking how you are.”

Red’s voice startles you from serving yourself a cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. You barely heard him come inside…

A frown tugs at your lips. His voice sounds weird. 

Nonetheless, you press a cap to the cup and respond. “How I am in regards to what?”

“Everything that happened that night with Huntress.”

You step around the aisle. “I’m—holy shit, dude!”

Blood flows heavily from his nose. A bruise is already forming on his cheek and he leans against the counter, gloved hand cupped to his bleeding nose. Something about it doesn't sit right with you, stomach rolling at the sight of him injured like this. 

“It—it really looks worse than it looks.”

You turn sharply, not responding to that as you set your cup aside and snatch up several napkins, then stride back over to him. He takes them from you quickly, using them to stem the blood flow, leaning his head forward. As he does so, you spot a cut on his temple, bleeding heavily, too. 

“Jesus, Red, are you okay?”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? You heard me, right?”

“That is so not the point right now. Wait here. We have some first aid stuff…”

“You don’t have to—”

“Save the heroics, Red. I do.” 

He reads the tension in your voice, falling silent. You take it as the sign to do what you need to, turning again to find the aisle with toiletries. You get what you need, then go back to him, finding him sitting on the floor now, napkins still pressed to his nose.

“Broken?”

His head lifts slightly at the sound of your voice. You sit down next to him.

“No, luckily. Just… got hit hard.”

“I can tell,” you say, frowning, eyeing the bruise on his cheek. “How’s the bleeding?”

“Starting to slow. Should be a couple more minutes. I’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips and don’t respond, instead opening up your supplies to take care of the cut on his temple. 

“You really don’t have to, you know.”

“And yet, you get to come in here and check up on me?”

“Kind of my job, isn’t it?”

“Since when has any of this just been about that?”

A brief moment of silence as you rip open an antiseptic pad, wiping your hands, the acrid smell of alcohol burning your nostrils. 

Finally, he lets out a tired chuckle. “You got me there.”

“Unfortunate that you had to stumble in like this to get that,” you murmur, reaching up for him with another antiseptic pad but pausing before you touch him. “Can I?”

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

You carefully push away his hair; it is damp with sweat, as is his hairline. Most likely from the oppressive heat and humidity and from whatever fight he just came from. 

“Gonna sting,” you say in warning, then press the pad to the cut. As it soaks up the blood and cleans the cut, you get a better look at it. Not too big or too deep. Head wounds always bleed excessively.

He says that exact thing in the next second.

For whatever reason, it endears you, your lips twitching, injecting some much-needed levity.

“I know,” you say simply. “Doesn’t look too bad, either. Not like it needs stitches, anyway.”

“Good. My patrol isn’t over yet.”

You sigh, shifting onto your knees next to him as you discard the bloodied pad, reaching for another one to clean the area around it. 

“Can’t tone down the savior complex even a little bit, can you?”

“I appreciate your help,” is all he says.

“It’s nothing. And, anyway, to answer your previous question… I’m fine. I’m used to that kind of stuff.”

“That’s not reassuring, you know that, right?”

You give him a look. “I don’t think you get to say that. But your concern is noted.”

He sighs. “There’s that, I guess. If you need to talk—”

“I know,” you say, cutting him off gently. “I know, Red. Let me finish this up…”

You find a band-aid large enough to cover the cut, carefully pressing it onto his temple.

“Should be more careful. This area is… dangerous,” you murmur, tapping lightly at the band-aid on his temple. You’ve seen and heard enough about people taking hits there and going down permanently. The thought of that happening to Red unsettles you deeply, something cold twisting your insides.

But Red doesn’t appear to be listening to you. Instead, he’s… listening to something else. You think it’s some kind of comms, initially, but then you realize he’s listening to the song currently playing overhead. Which you quickly recognize.  

“I’m On Fire? Really? Didn’t peg you as a Bruce Springsteen fan.”

It’s obviously meant as a tease and you need to put a stop to the growing grin on his lips immediately. The only one allowed to get flustered here is him. Fair’s fair, after all, after last week’s conversation. 

“Not a fan. It’s from a friend’s playlist.”

He blinks, expression rapidly morphing into surprise. “A—friend?”

“Yes, I do have friends. I’ve mentioned this before. It’s not mine, it’s his.”

“I… see.” 

He pulls the wad of napkins away from his nose in that moment, successfully redirecting your attention from his odd reaction. You lean around to get a look. Blood smears over his upper lip, the shadow of a bruise starting to form on his nose, swollen, too.

“Well?”

“Don’t worry,” you drawl. “You’ve still got the pretty boy thing going on.”

“That’s—” he stops and you watch, stunned, as he actually, honest-to-god, blushes.

Holy shit.

“That’s not what I was asking,” he eventually mutters, looking away sharply.

It amuses you, for some reason, and you suppress a smile. “Well, still. Sleep easy tonight knowing your good looks are not tarnished—”

He shakes his head. “You’re… really something, you know that?” 

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “It looks fine, by the way. Like you need to ice it—and your cheek—but fine. Not broken. You were right. Hold on.”

You get up and grab a can of Zesti from the fridges, then go back over to him. He takes it, pressing it over his nose and cheek, and you seat yourself next to him again, shuffling the used pads and supplies into a small pile, frowning a bit to yourself as you realize there are more pads than you recall. 

You don’t ask why or how he got these injuries. Not sure if he’d tell you. Not sure you want to hear about it, anyway. 

A bit of a stark reminder about what he does, isn’t it?

“So…” he starts a second later, pulling you from your increasingly morbid thoughts. 

You narrow your eyes at seeing fresh mischief on his face. This won’t bode well for you.

“Yes?”

“By you saying all that stuff about my ‘good looks’ and ‘pretty boy thing,’ that means you think that, too, right?”

“You aren’t half-bad to look at,” you concede, shoving down your embarrassment at being called out and admitting it, too. But in a roundabout way. Much better than stating quite plainly you do find him a little bit attractive. But that’s all it is. Attraction. Appreciation of a pretty face. 

“Not half-bad?” he asks, laughing. “Because that’s a nice way to put it.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

A smile lingers on his lips as he looks at you and you can’t stop your own from mirroring his.

“Guess it doesn’t matter,” he says, glancing away first, gloved hand—clean from the blood now, which explains the extra antiseptic pads—reaching for his utility belt. “You took on the painstaking job of patching me up.”

“Wasn’t that painstaking, Red. Just cleaned the cut and slapped a band-aid on it. Band-aid is probably doing more work than me.”

“Still. For your efforts…” He produces a lollipop from one of the pouches on his belt with a flourish.

You blink. “You… keep lollipops in that thing?”

“Helps if we’re handling a kid,” he says and oh, okay, yeah, that makes more sense, you think, taking the lollipop and unwrapping it. 

“All of you?”

“Batman started it first.”

The thought of Gotham’s resident caped crusader carrying lollipops in his utility belt is an amusing, if not incredulous, one.

Red sees must see the doubt on your face, snickering. “I’m being totally serious.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just messing with me. This is payback for the half-bad thing, isn’t it?”

He laughs. The sound is achingly familiar as usual but the full picture of why it is familiar escapes you—like it always does.

“It’s not, I swear.”

“Sure,” you say. “Gotta be a hassle to remember exactly where it is, though, right? Since you apparently keep all manners of things in there?”

“Just what we need.”

“So, like, an arsenal of weapons.”

“Tools,” he corrects.

“Uh-huh.”

He fiddles with another pouch, pulling out something that you immediately recognize as a batarang. 

You've only glimpsed these but you’ve never seen one up close. The metal glints under the light. 

“Can I—?”

“Just be careful. Easy to slice yourself.”

You bet. 

The metal is cold under your fingertips, an unfamiliar weight but not heavy, exactly. 

Some people like to try their luck and keep batarangs they find as mementos, or sell them on the black market but the word on the street is that the Bats have never left one unattended; the people who take them never mention a direct confrontation, just that one day they have it and the next, they can’t find it, which, in your personal opinion, is more unsettling than a direct confrontation. But hey, maybe that’s just you.

“This would be useless without me,” he points out. 

“Right. Your batarang. Weird name, by the way.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You just put bat at the front.”

“It’s a great name. And also I didn’t name it. This was already named by the time I came into the scene.”

He seems a tad determined to make you understand that. 

“I don’t know,” you say, pretending to give it thought. “You do seem the type to give obvious names. Like naming a Dalmatian Spot. Call a batarang a batarang.”

“I didn’t name it,” he repeats again. 

But you just laugh.

You laugh and laugh and laugh, thinking this might be the most honest portrayal of him and the others that you have ever seen. 

And it’s nice.

It’s… it’s nice.

(He isn’t so bad.)

“Wow. This is great. Like wallpaper levels of goodness.”

A snort. “I should hope so. You have no idea how many mosquitos bit me when I was up there taking the pictures.” 

Tim raises his arm and you lift your gaze from the screen of his camera to behold the few red mosquito bite on his forearm. 

“So, you didn’t listen to Alfred, is what you’re saying?”

“It’s April,” he mutters, dropping his arm, head shifting from its place in your lap. “It’s unnatural for mosquitos to be out already. Didn’t think I’d need the spray ‘cause of it.”

You pat his head comfortingly. “Well, your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. This is really good, Timmy.”

You look back at the camera screen, where a picture of Gotham sits, captured from the top of Spillkin Hill in Bristol, affording a view of the entire city bathed in the golden rays of the sunset. 

“Thanks,” he says, sounding just a little embarrassed. 

When you glance at him over the camera, his head is turned, gazing out at the rest of the mostly empty quad, cheeks suspiciously red. If you pointed it out, he would blame it on the shining sun overhead. Even if you two are thoroughly hidden from the brunt of its rays beneath this large oak tree, only slivers of sunlight slipping through the canopy, casting leaf-shaped patches of light onto you.

The sunglasses on his face prevent you from seeing his gaze but it’s most likely the same—away from you, focused on something else. Tim gives as good as he gets but he’s become easier to fluster these days, after your return from the internship last semester. Especially with you. You aren’t sure why but the reactions are always amusing and stupidly endearing, so you don’t say anything about it. 

You two are waiting for Steph to get out of one of her psych classes, then the three of you are going to hit up Big Belly Burger and do some mini-golf afterward. Tim’s older sister and another one of Steph’s close friends, Cass, is tagging along. You like her. You two work on the same wavelength sometimes. 

Right now, you are just trying to enjoy this much-needed peace and quiet. The approach of finals is stressful as it always is but the good thing about it is that the quad is nearly empty right now; most students tucked away in the library, in class, or holed up in their dorms procrastinating their work. Plus, the thought of the summer off from class after—working still, but no finals or midterms to stress about—is a revitalizing one. 

You pass him back the camera—carefully, since it’s more expensive than a single class here at GU—and lean back on your palms, cool grass tickling your skin. Your allergies are going to have a field day with this but you don’t care too much about it. Not with Tim’s head planted in your lap, a reassuring, comforting, weight on your thighs. 

His attention is fixed on the camera again, flicking through pictures. You keep your gaze elsewhere, to give him his privacy, though you can’t help but tease him a little bit.

“Can you even see those pictures with these?” you ask, looping your index finger around the arm of the sunglasses, lifting them from his face. He scrunches up his nose in response and you laugh, terribly, terribly endeared.

To reacclimatize from the whirlwind of warm feelings inside your chest, you slide them on, smiling down at him when he squints up at you, clearly having to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Another flash of warmth in your chest.

Before you can do anything else, though, your eyes accidentally catch the screen of his camera and promptly widen as you realize what you are looking at.

Or better yet—who.

“Is that me?” you ask dumbly, because obviously it is you. 

It’s you, sitting out in the quad, a textbook in your lap, head tilted as you read its contents; simple and boring, by any means, yet, the focus of the camera and the sunlight falling over you turns it into something else entirely. 

You have absolutely no recollection of him taking this picture. 

His eyes widen—soft blue from the sunlight, pretty as always, you can’t help but notice—and he looks at the screen, too, grimacing. 

“Uh… yeah.”

Suddenly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses as heat settles in your face.

“It’s… it’s nice, Tim.”

“It’s—weird, I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he starts to sit up.

“No, no, no,” you quickly say, hand pressing to his shoulder, keeping him where he is. “It’s not. Really. I don’t… I don’t mind.”

You’re really overheating now but you don’t want him to go into panic mode and close off. Which is what you feel like might happen if you let him continue.

He looks at you carefully, studying you. “Are you sure?”

“It’s just… candid, right? Besides it’s you. And I know you’re not a weirdo stalker—” you poke his cheek teasingly “—so… I don’t mind. It’s nice. Nicer than I actually look, so… y’know. Thanks.”

A frown. “You always look nice.” A wince. “I mean, not nice, w-well, yes nice, just—you know, uh, pretty.”

You smile, once again hopelessly endeared; the feeling helpfully overtakes the sudden shyness at him calling you pretty, which is… something you will set aside for the moment. “Thanks, Timmy.”

He nods, seeming resolute to not look at you as he quickly flicks to the next picture; you make a conscious effort not to look at the screen this time. Your gaze lingers on his face—thank you, sunglasses—where his cheeks are still red and so are the tips of his ears.

You bite down a smile and finally look away. 

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[chaoticspeedrun]

Hello! I hope you are well!

I saw that you wanted some ideas for a fic, i have a request if thats okay. I have an request for an donnie x reader (can be gn or fem!, either is fine), where the reader seems like the villain but is trying to protect them from a bigger badder villain maybe like big mama for example? Maybe like a lovers to enemies to lovers trope? Or just a enemies to lovers trope.

Anywho i love your work! Please remember to take breaks and please remember to eat and drink something today. Bye bye!❤

AN: You guys are worrying about me and my health, it’s so sweet, I’ll try though my ADHD brain might forget, thank you <3 also, your brain is beautiful anon, villain reader lovers to enemies to lovers?? *chef’s kiss* How could I pass that up?

This one took a while because I got excited and it got long, I love how it turned out though.

Trust fall

Pairing: Rise!Donnie x Fem! reader (No use of Y/N)

Type: Oneshot

Summary: Donnie fell in love with you slowly but steadily, he would have trusted you with his life, which is why finding out you were working with a villain was too hard of a hit to take.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, break-ups, reader says f*ck once.

MASTERLIST

Donnie didn’t think he was too trusting, but sometimes he didn’t have the insight to people Leo and Mikey would, his own ego made him think he couldn’t be fooled, and maybe, just maybe, that would be his downfall.

He met you at the Big Nexus Hotel, you were staying there for a couple of days to try something different is what you said, a human in a huge hotel full of yokai who was suddenly ran over by a mutant ninja turtle in his attempts to escape the claws of a big feral dog called Gus.

Donnie hurried to protect you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a run alongside him, because you were a civilian suddenly involved in the situation since Gus had seen you together, so now you were in danger too.

The moment he saw Leo on the other side of the hallway waving and opening a portal Donnie didn’t hesitate to go through it, dragging you along and directly into the lair where Mikey and Raph were already staring at you in shock, Leo just whistled, closing the portal behind him before asking.

“Well DonTron, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Introductions were a messy affair, where you explained you’d been staying at the hotel for two days before what happened, and they explained themselves in a way. You took their explanation in stride, just accepting mutants and Yokai were a thing after the crazy persecution scene just a moment before.

Your easy acceptance put them all at ease, they were shocked at it, yes, but thought nothing more while Mikey excitedly asked if you wanted to stay for dinner and Leo just made a side comment about your attitude to them being a little weird.

Donnie should have thought it out further.

You were fitting right in and sitting at the table with them, but even after the crazy day you just had you still had enough energy to ask Donnie about his battle shell, the question then went over to his tech bō, him explaining how he got his hands on the titanium used on most of his things and then switched over to sci-fi movies, Leo joining the conversation in smalls bursts at that.

You left the lair with four new phone numbers and after a couple of months, you were already a new addition to their little found family.

You made friends with April real quick and then with Sunita, their father seemed to like you and whenever you came over you usually brought a little something with you, cookies, pizza, coffee, just something for the guys, waving off their thanks and telling them it was just good manners, even when Raph repeatedly insisted you didn’t have to, while Leo would immediately ask what you brought that day once you walked through the door.

The pride and warmth that came to Donnie whenever you’d ask about his projects, the new videogame he was into, with all your attention never straying from his rants, or when you’d laugh at one of his jokes started growing and changing into something else with each of your visits.

You were always considerate of them, but he couldn’t figure out how with just a small exchange of texts between the both of you before your arrival at the lair you always seemed to be able to tell if he was in the mood for plain black coffee or a lavender latte and would walk into his lab with a small greeting plus the steaming cup in your hands.

Small things like that increased and slipped into your interactions, making him feel like you knew and understood him better than anyone else.

It made him happy, it made him nervous at times. He started making things for you, gift giving was one of his love languages, why wouldn’t he use it with one of his closest friends? One of his favorite people.

But your reaction to his gifts made him short-circuit, you were so happy, so genuine in your excitement, asking questions about the gadget he made to facilitate your routine and communication with the lair and using it as much as you could.

He started making more things for you, and you reciprocated with your own little gifts to him.

At some point you were both just stuck at the hip, always together when you were at the lair, standing by each other’s side during missions, and texting or calling when you weren’t present.

The guys teased him constantly for months and he would deny what they said until April basically slapped him in the face with the knowledge they all had and he had been in denial about.

He was in love with you.

And it scared him enough to hide in his lab for a couple of days before Leo portaled Mikey wearing full Dr. Feelings attire inside for the longest lecture of his life.

With all the courage he could manage to get from his brother and your worried texts asking if he was fine, Donnie realized that he trusted you, and he trusted that regardless of how you felt about him you could continue your friendship just as normal.

You couldn’t, you couldn’t continue your friendship just as normal, because after Donnie managed to confess you jumped into his arms telling him you felt the same, and suddenly it wasn’t all the same, Donnie was practically vibrating in your arms with glee, it was way better.

The time you shared increased if possible and the laughs did too, freer and more frequent; because knowing one another so well was another love language you shared.

Donnie felt he understood you just like you did him, he knew you better than anyone could, had seen you happy, sad, angry, and he could read you just perfectly by now.

Which was why even though, occasionally, you would disappear for a couple of hours or even days, Donnie didn’t even think to ask much of where you were going most of the time, as long as he knew you were just fine, what did it matter? When you came back you would tell him of a lady at the store who fought with you for a box of cookies or about your aunt who lived out of state and always had a weird story to tell.

Leo did ask though, he would ask frequently, and you’d say you had some errands to run, you were going to the store, to a party or a family gathering, and Donnie would say good luck, while Leo would nonchalantly let you go, but his gaze whispered doubts.

One day he spoke them out.

He asked Donnie about what you did those days when you went completely off radar and Donnie looked at Leo like he was insane, telling him it was your business, but his brother wouldn’t budge, and the conversation switched tone quickly with Leo telling Donnie how your attitude was weird.

“It’s the way she doesn’t look anyone in the eyes whenever she goes MIA, it’s different from when she just goes grocery shopping or something, why would she need to go without any communication like that anyways?”

“Please Nardo” Donnie rolled his eyes “It’s called privacy? And some people just feel like staring into the ocular globes of other people is uncomfortable.”

“Does she?” Leo insisted and Donnie knew the answer was usually a no, but he wouldn’t give his brother the satisfaction “It’s not only that Don, why is she always so sketchy when we ask to see her apartment?”

“Can you just drop it Nardo? Some people just prefer their privacy.”

“She is always hanging out at the lair though? But refuses video calls if she’s not out on the street. And how long have we known her for already? So long and not even her boyfriend has seen her apartment or even a picture of her family?”

Donnie winced but refused to give in “She’ll show us when she’s ready! Why is that such a hard concept for you to grasp Nardo? What do you even think she could be hiding from us? How can you be just spouting such baseless claims like my girlfriend is hiding something horrible from us.”

Leo sighed, shifting slightly in place before asking his next question, a bit more careful, Donnie faltered at the change of tone “Can you just check where she is? I want to believe you’re right Don, but there’s something that has just always seemed off about her to me, I won’t ask you again, the moment we see with your GPS that she’s at her parents’ place out of state like she said I’ll completely drop the topic.”

Donnie wasn’t like Leo, he couldn’t read people so easily, but he knew you, and he knew you way better than Leo did, so he knew there was no reason to doubt you and Leo was just reading a nonexistent text between lines that were as clear as they seemed.

So he caved, with an exasperated sigh, he turned to his computer and started typing something to pull out your coordinates with the chip he placed on your phone and hadn’t used, telling himself he’d only do so if there was an emergency, but he could make an exception, then Leo would finally get off both of your backs.

The algorithm showed your location and both boys stared at the screen, the calm expression on Donnie’s face shifted to something more worrying and Leo’s frown returned.

You were at the Grand Nexus Hotel.

-

There had to be a reason for what he and Leo had found out, and Donnie wanted to figure out what it was.

He was going to ask you when you came back because there was surely an explanation for you going there, so when you came back after a couple of hours with the flashing light of your location glaring at him through the screen, he asked how things went, sure you’d tell him your reasons.

Except you said it was fine and told him a story about your parents being worried about you and asking about your life, how the food was great and other things Donnie realized were pretty generic, too generic.

You were lying to him, and he didn’t even know how long you had been lying for.

-

Things were changing, and you had noticed, but Donnie avoided your questions, he avoided the topic all together even though it ate at his insides because a part of him still wanted to believe you and kept making excuses.

Only two days after they saw you at the hotel, Leo came into the lab through a portal; Donnie was about to yell at him, but Leo spoke faster.

“She’s at the hotel again, come on, I’ll go for Mikey and Raph.” Leo left immediately after that, and Donnie’s heart was beating faster, how did Leo know that? Had he been following you since then?

He met his brothers in the projector room and Leo’s portal took them to the Grand nexus hotel, Raph and Mikey were asking questions, but Donnie could barely hear them, just automatically following Leo’s instructions to check your location on his GPS, which confirmed that you were right there like his brother said, the turtles all followed until they were right behind the doors to Big Mama’s office, Donnie’s heart sinking further at the realization.

He barely remembers what happened after, the doors were wide open and there you were, dressed in all black, your clothes covering most of you except your eyes but it was you, staring back at him, first wide-eyed and then coldly, standing next to Big Mama comfortably, someone said something and he thinks there was a discussion or exchange of words, but he couldn’t remember, Big Mama herself gave you the order to attack them and he finally noticed a pair of escrima sticks suddenly in your hands as you rushed their way.

You were moving so fast, so practiced, like you had been trained, so unlike when you went on missions with them, you were flowing naturally, using your weapons against Leo, who had met you in the middle, like they were an extension of your body.

He’d tried to teach you to use his bō before, you were so clumsy with it when you tried.

Even that had been a lie.

It was all a blur, suddenly they were all fighting you when more yokai working for Big Mama joined in, Donnie was fighting with a newfound rage, all his scrambled thoughts making him see red, so much red Raph had to restrain him and carry him by force out of there, he heard Mikey trying to reason with him but Donnie ignored him with his eyes set on you.

“WHY?!” He managed to yell when you stopped following them near the entrance of the hotel “WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY GAIN FROM LYING? YOU LIED ABOUT EVERYTHING!”

“What could Big Mama’s guard gain from knowing everything about the turtles that get on her nerves?” You responded coldly and Donnie’s eyes were glassy with rage and pain while his brother pulled them both right through a portal back home.

He cried on April’s shoulder that night, over a pile of his brothers who must have felt betrayed themselves but quietly supported him through the heartbreak.

-

After that you kept meeting, thankfully you must not have noticed the tracker Donnie had placed on you, because whenever you were doing Big Mama’s dirty work, he got an alarm and they’d find you.

Every time you met, Donnie would remember everything you had done and couldn’t look into your eyes, thankfully he didn’t have to if he was shooting missiles at you from afar, why did he always go for your type? Cute and mean, he just hadn’t realized how mean.

And it wasn’t easy to fight you because despite his common sense and how much he hated himself for it he still had feelings for you, it was horrible, he hated it, he hated it so much, and he couldn’t help but ask himself every single time he saw you even from the corner of his eyes if anything you’d gone through had been real at all.

All the laughs, all the smiles, all the gifts, all your questions, had all of it been a lie? Was there anything in your relationship that could have been real? Was that how you could read him so easily?

It infuriated him to no end, to know he had just handed you over every weakness you could need to fight them.

Except that when they arrived at the lair one night after a successful fight against you, Leo pointed out that you hadn’t used anything you knew against them even once since they found you out.

It made no sense, but he was too tired after seeing you and was walking straight to bed, ignoring his twin’s plea to talk about it and his voice asking if you knew where they lived, why wouldn’t you try to use it? Why had you let them go that day at the hotel—

“Why has she failed every single time we’ve fought when she knows the controls to your tech?!”

Donnie halted and turned to Leo with wide eyes, he had forgotten, how could he be so stupid? He’d forgotten you knew every weakness, every button, every function of his tech.

“You knew that! You knew she could use it if she wanted to sabotage it! Why didn’t you say anything?!” He asked Leo, Raph looked surprised too.

“She can do that? Leo! She could have put us all at risk!”

“But she could have done that from the beginning!” Leo told them, stressing out the last part “She could have done so anytime we fought but she hasn’t! She had a grasp of Donnie’s bō at one time and conveniently touched a button that electrocuted her! Isn’t that suspicious?!”

It was, it was suspicious.

But what about it? There was no questioning you were the bad guy, you had been lying to them about everything, you had been helping Big Mama get her claws into strange artifacts—

Except, Leo was right, Donnie was tired of Leo being right, but you hadn’t gotten Big Mama all those artifacts, you had failed.

Donnie rushed over to Leo and took the latest artifact out of his hands, he rushed with it to his lab where the rest of what they had gotten from you was stored, his brothers following behind.

He hadn’t taken the time to study them, got a couple books that may have some answers about what they were, but studying them had felt like a pain, he lacked motivation, until now.

He rushed through the books, pulling artifacts and making mental notes about them and what they could do together, his brothers tried asking questions and touching them but he pushed them off with his metal limbs.

“Why would Big Mama even use this?” He mumbled, catching their attention “It’s like a defense mechanism against her type of yokai, and this other one is a mechanism against—”

Against a serpent, a chimera, it was a neutralizer.

A smudge on it caught his attention and there it was, in your own writing, ‘Amphisbaena’, one of Big Mama’s champions, the two-headed serpents.

He reached out for another one that had written ‘Cortex’ on it.

‘Operator’

‘Sprite’

‘Troll’

All of them were names of Big Mama’s champions, all of the artifacts labeled with the name of a champion it could either restrain or knock out, they had been hidden deep into the city, guarded carefully but unassumingly, yet you had known exactly where they were.

‘Why has she failed every single time we’ve fought when she knows the controls to your tech?!’

You hadn’t failed, Big Mama hadn’t asked you to get these artifacts in the first place, that’s why you never had backup, you always acted alone, guiding them to these.

Donnie was worried, because why would it be so easy? Why would it be like that? Whatever Big Mama was planning were you really trying to stop it? Was it foolish of him to believe that? The slight glimmer of hope he hadn’t managed to discard begged him to believe it was true, but could he? Why would he?

Why should he fall again for your lies? This could all just be a trap.

So he turned to his brother, who’d been putting together the pieces while watching over his shoulder, turned to Leo, so he could wake him up with the cold harsh truth, squash that small last glimmer of hope Donnie had so he could move on.

But when he did Leo had that look in his eyes like the cat that caught the canary, there was relief in his face and Donnie’s eyes widened while his twin turned to him.

“We need to get through Big Mama’s security and find out her plans, we’ll infiltrate her office tomorrow if you can figure out by then how these things work” Leo spoke confidently, starting to explain a plan to the rest of them while Donnie was unable to stop the hope from growing in his chest.

-

The boys were right in Big Mama’s office, the others guarding while Donnie looked through her computer for anything that could help them.

Finally, he found something, a whole file, but it was better if he just took it and read it at home, he started downloading the information and looking it over to make sure it was what they needed when he heard a thump and Mikey’s yell.

“Turtley-boos, I thought we’d already talked about this” Big Mama’s voice echoed through the room and Donnie saw her right at the door “No stealing from Mama.”

Leo and Raph went to attack while Donnie kept glancing at the tab’s process and cursing the size of it, just one more moment just one moment.

And then he remembered the artifacts, he took the one labeled ‘Big Mama’ and threw it “Leo!”

Leo caught it with an “ahá!” and pointed it at the spider before realizing he had no idea how it worked “Gah!” Leo was pinned against the wall by a web while Big Mama took the artifact in her hands with a new expression on her face.

“HOW did you get this?” She asked but the artifact was taken from her hands by a pair of five-fingered ones.

“Guess” You said before pressing on the side of the artifact and opening it, a burst of light came from Big Mama like the artifact was a vacuum for her energy and the spider yokai dropped, glaring up at you, a hint of amusement in her otherwise angry eyes.

She chuckled humorlessly “Oh I knew there was something I liked about you, I just hoped you were as smart as your parents when choosing a side.”

“My parents have never controlled me BM, and neither could you” You snarled before hearing guards approaching your door.

You rushed out to take something from Big Mama’s pocket, she tried to claw at you but you were faster.

You quickly made your way to Leo, using a laser to destroy the web, he fell with a screech before you pushed his Katana onto his chest.

“Get us to champion’s row, now!” You yelled.

“We still don’t know what she’s planning!” Donnie replied from where he stood at the computer.

“I’ll tell you! But we need to reach her champions NOW!” Your eyes were looking at him imploringly and while Donnie wanted to fight you and ask why he should trust you at all the familiar steps were getting closer and he cursed pulling himself away from the computer while Leo opened the portal, you all went through, and appeared at the entrance of champion’s row, where the halls were silent.

Mikey suddenly jumped into your arms making you stumble a bit with your eyes open wide.

“I knew it! I knew you couldn’t be on Big Mama’s side, you were always hiding something but I had the feeling you were protecting us!”

WHAT?

Donnie’s exasperation was slightly clouded when you closed your eyes and hugged Mikey back with all your strength, breathing with what Donnie knew was relief before you pulled back from the hug, your expression firm.

“Big Mama has been looking for an old jewel that is said to possess the power to control all yokai, she found it just recently and hid it under the surveillance of her champions, she was waiting for a big event, but because of what just happened she’ll want to use it now, that’s why we have to neutralize her champions and get the jewel before she recovers and comes for it—”

“And you know this because?” Donnie asked, glaring at you, and seeing how your shoulders tensed before sighing and reaching up to remove your mask.

“My parents work with Big Mama” You mumbled, the silence was dense for a moment “They work for the human part of the hotel’s business and raised me to continue their work, I was trained from a young age because a human working with the yokai mob boss is clearly not a safe job.”

“Woah, Okay! So, you are supposed to inherit their side of the business? And why should we trust you then? Why should we help you?!” Donnie asked, his voice getting louder and echoing through the halls as he walked up to you, he knew it, there it was! They couldn’t believe you.

You didn’t react much, looking back at Donnie with something akin to resignation, like you weren’t expecting anything less, calmly you continued speaking “I’ve hated what my parents and Big Mama do my whole life” you said while Donnie looked for any shift in your expression “When I was a kid I was exposed to the battle nexus, I saw the fights and then I saw the warriors trapped in their cells down here, saw them battle to the death with other people who didn’t even have a chance and how the yokai enjoyed the show, making bets for the next fight when there was a corpse left down in the arena.” Donnie faltered slightly, listening to the hurt in your words.

“I threw up the first time I saw it, while my parents told me I’d get used to it eventually, and I refused them, I had a rebellious phase, they called it, until I realized, if I was here, I could learn how to change things and tamper with BM’s plans, so suddenly, I became their golden child.” There was a new glint in your eyes, Donnie wished you’d stop giving him reasons to hope.

“How long had you been working with her?” Leo asked, and you sighed.

“Two days before I met you guys, BM took me in to become a guard at her side so I could see how she ran the business from up close and that’s when I learned about the jewel.”

“Then why didn’t you tell us?” Raph who had been mostly quiet so far asked a little defensively “We could have helped you if we knew.”

“It was risky” Your voice sounded pleading “After meeting you BM started suspecting me for being around you that one time, so I had to prove I had nothing to do with you to her, if you suddenly seemed to know things about her plans that you shouldn’t she would have immediately distrusted me.” Your eyes strayed to Donnie’s with so much sadness in them and he would have pulled at his hair if he had any, it was so hard to not give in to that look, but he knew better than to do so.

“The day you found me out at the hotel I wanted to talk to you guys and come out clean with everything, but Big Mama was angry and suspicious because you clearly knew who I was, so she started keeping information from me, leaving her side would have made everything I’d worked for meaningless and I wouldn’t have realized when she got her hands on the jewel, I panicked but knew she wouldn’t just use it quietly, she would have gone with a big event, so I found out where she was guarding it and started guiding you with Donnie’s tracker to the artifacts, if I had them BM could have found out, but with you, they’d be safer.”

“All right!” Leo sounded chipper “So where is the jewel? So we can get out of here pronto and talk over pizza about how disowned you are.” Raph and Mikey hummed in agreement, Mikey mentioning something about getting your favorite before Donnie raised his hands up.

“Just like that? We are just going to trust her and welcome her back to the circle?! Like nothing happened, she still lied to us! She still lied to me!” Donnie pointed at himself with his thumb, an angry glare directed straight at you, and he saw you wilt in place, his glare trembled but there was a loud hiss coming from the hallway right at that moment.

You all hadn’t exactly been quiet that whole time.

“It’s Amphisbaena! Quick, this way!” You reflexively took hold of Donnie’s arm, pulling him through another hall before letting go “The artifact! It will knock them out, just turn the cover!”

Donnie rushed to pull the artifact out before Mikey took it from his hands, pointing it excitedly at the serpent that was getting too close for comfort.

There was a screech and a thump before both heads were on the floor completely knocked out, you pointed to another hall and went running, the boys all following you while Donnie passed them each one of the artifacts.

“We’re close! Just this one and the jewel should be behind the bars—” your voice was interrupted by a loud growl and you seemed to pale

“Who’s that?” Donnie asked going through the labels of artifacts they’d already gone through, one of them held a little tiny Sprite in there, the angry champion unable to get out and hitting the glass with her fists.

“It’s Kraken Tom, I couldn’t find anything for Kraken Tom” you said in a panic, right at that moment a black tentacle reached out from your right and took you in its grasp while you screamed.

Donnie yelled your name before taking out his staff “Let her go you outgrown cephalopod!” A big missile launcher construct in neon purple materialized before shooting at the Kraken right in the face, the Kraken screeched before letting go of you due to the pain, you were falling rapidly before being caught in Donnie’s arms, you looked up at him enamored but he wasn’t looking back, glaring at the Kraken before letting you back down.

“Hey buddy, miss me?” Leo asked the Kraken before slicing through one of its tentacles while another tried to reach him “Donnie! You two go for the jewel, we’ll take care of this.”

Donnie and you looked at each other before rushing down the hallway, finally, you found what you were looking for, behind a strong container was the jewel.

“why can’t Leo just take it out with a portal?” Donnie asked as you rummaged through the pouch on your waist.

“It has a barrier against mystic arts, I took this from Big Mama back at her office” you said holding up a key in your hands and twisting it through the lock, immediately the jewel was released but a green portal opened behind you, sending chills through your spine.

“Oh darling, I thought your parents taught you better than this, they’ll be very disappointed” Big Mama was right behind you and you pulled out the artifact again but your hand holding it was pinned to the wall immobile a moment later with her web goop.

“Donnie take the gem!” You turned to him with desperation and he did quickly pocketing the thing before pointing his staff at Big Mama but she was already holding her claws to your neck.

“You should think twice turtley-boo, it’s the gem or her neck” She hummed, her claws already pulling at the skin but you refused to express your pain.

“Take it Donnie! You must leave now!” You yelled and he growled.

“Don’t be daft, like that would happen, this though, looks interesting” Donnie smirked with the jewel pointed right at Big Mama who gasped and pulled more blood from your neck before a beam of light made her eyes whiten, suddenly over the control of Donnie.

“Come on!” He said taking your hand in his and pulling you away from Big Mama who was starting to wake up from the trance since Donnie didn’t know how to use the jewel.

You both reached the guys who were finishing with Kraken Tom, when Leo saw you he immediately created another portal “let’s blow this popsicle stand” he said and you all ran through it.

-

You were in the med bay with Leo as he treated the cut on your neck, which was thankfully superficial, while Mikey prepared some dinner for you all.

It was really quiet for a bit, you were clearly uncomfortable after everything and couldn’t read what Leo might be thinking, as far as you knew he was the one who found you out, he suspected you for a while and you couldn’t blame him, it may have been to protect them and your mission but you had been lying to them this whole time, going as far as to hide your fighting abilities so they wouldn’t ask too much, the idea of pizza at their dinner table wasn’t something you entertained, your plan was to leave after everything and give them space.

Give Donnie space, despite how much it would hurt you.

“I know he understands why you did it” Leo broke the silence, still looking at the wound while cleaning it “It makes sense, it was logical and by this point he knows you only had good intentions, he does it all the time himself, good things that look wrong.” You snorted looking away.

“He’s right though, I lied, and he has no reason to trust me again after everything.” You said bitterly “I fucked up Leo, and Donnie deserves way better than me.”

“Maybe let him decide that?” Leo looked at you and you expected him to look stern, but his gaze was full of concern, for you? For Donnie? It was a brotherly concern you didn’t think would be directed at you again “I’m not saying it’s fine, you hurt him, he has every right to be angry at you, I know I was pissed” he gave you a lazy grin and you looked down again “But you were protecting him, weren’t you?”

“Big Mama would have gone after you all if she’d known I was friends with you.”

“I’m not talking about that” He rolled his eyes “I’m talking about the fact that you could have found a way to tell us everything and you didn’t because you knew Donnie would have tried to help you and put himself at risk, you thought it was better for him to hate you.”

You kept looking down, but then you heard a very familiar voice at the entrance of the med bay.

“That’s just so stupid” Donnie snarled lowly, and you tensed up, Leo finished bandaging up your neck and stood up, sending a reassuring look your way before walking out of the bay and leaving you with his purple-coded brother.

There was only silence while Donnie sat down in front of you where Leo had been, you finally broke it by speaking “What did you do to the jewel?”

“I destroyed it” He sighed sounding bitter “I wanted to study it but it’s probably better that no one gets their hands on it” he said as if he had been trying to convince himself of that “I also recovered a bunch of data from Big Mama’s computer”

At that he looked into your eyes and your own widened slightly as you realized what he must have found.

“She was planning to control me specifically” It wasn’t a question, just a fact “to create something that would allow her to increase the range of the jewel, is that why you were there when we broke in? To slip the info over to us somehow?”

“Yes” you mumbled and heard him sigh, he slumped slightly in his place, but his posture was a bit more relaxed, and you dared to look up, just to find him staring straight at you, his eyes softer than they’d been since that day at the hotel when he’d seen you with Big Mama.

“What was the truth? Were you dating me just for convenience? So you could help us because you knew I was in danger?”

“No!” You scrambled to answer quickly, eyes open wide and startling him for a moment, you looked pained at the thought “No of course not, none of that was a lie” you pleaded “About working with Big Mama and my disappearances, that was, my relationship with my parents and about my fighting skills those were because otherwise, you could have found out the first part, but none of our interactions were fake or staged, I wasn’t trying to get to you in the beginning, it was pure coincidence.”

The corners of Donnie’s mouth twitched down slightly as he tried to school his expression, but he was having a hard time doing so when your glassy eyes made him want to hold you tight back in his arms.

“Donnie I was never planning on falling in love with you, I just did” your voice had gotten lower, almost scared and he decided he’d had enough, quickly pulling you into a tight embrace, he felt you stiffen before relaxing and hiding your face in his shoulder, it felt wet, and he realized you were crying, so he held you tighter, holding back his own tears of relief.

“You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do, I want a full essay on everything that happened from then to now and no more lies, not even small ones, about Big Mama, your parents, everything” you didn’t say anything but nodded into his shoulder, he started drawing circles on your back with his fingers before continuing “But for now I just want to get some food into my system and hold my girlfriend in my arms while we watch Jupiter Jim Pluto vacation IV”

You separated from the hug looking up at him with teary eyes open wide, you looked so confused but he just reached up to wipe the tears while you attempted to form words “Ar-are you sure? Donnie, you don’t have to get back with me or hell, even forgive me if you don’t want to”

“Why would I not forgive the person who sacrificed her own well-being for mine? Your methods may have been less than ideal but I’m not stupid enough to let you go after all of that.” His voice was chiding, but his expression was soft and a small smile had started forming in his face.

You reached up quickly to place your lips over his and he held the back of your head to pull you closer.

You felt like you still had to make up for much, but Donnie was fine, and if anything was true it was that he loved you as much as you loved him.

[toh-tagteam-au]

Tag Team AU Synopsis – Really Small Problems + Understanding Willow

Synopsis Masterpost Link

Previous Part [Sense and Insensitivity + Adventures in the Elements + The First Day]

Next Part [Enchanting Grom Fright + Wing it Like Witches]

This is one of the big ones. The BIG ones. Big turning point episode here. All of these End Of Season 1 episodes are going to be like that. With a LOT of script screenshots.

Really Small Problems

I… didn’t have anything written for this episode, but I should mention that Tibbles hasn’t appeared in this AU because he’s actually profiting off of selling the Azura Books due to the Azura Incident and doesn’t need to do any more schemes. 

This episode wouldn’t have involved the carnival, but instead probably would have been a Willow-and-Amity-conflict centric episode and a Gus-and-Hunter friendship episode. Originally it was going to be a “Willow gets a crush on Hunter” episode that led into the pseudo-romance arc I’d been talking about for a while, but it never seemed right to me the more we saw canon Willow’s attitude towards canon Hunter in season 3. I still wanted elements of that though, since it’d be important for the Grom episode.

I’m also realizing now that I’m writing the whole synopsis that the Emerald Trio really doesn’t hang out very much in any of the episode descriptions, so I wanted to include a thing that was like “they hang out off-camera please believe me”.

Anyway, Hunter passes out at some point, which leads us into…

Understanding Willow

Which really should be called "Understanding Hunter" at this point.

The episode starts out with Hunter falling into a magical exhaustion, brought by him over-worrying about how to heal Belos. This would have assumedly been built up over the course of Really Small Problems, which I didn’t write, but somehow Amity, Willow, and Gus are there to bring him back to the Owl House. 

Amity and Willow volunteer to go into his mind and find out what is keeping him from waking up. When they’re sent in, they see that everything is extremely cluttered and all the trees are covered in notes. They hear muttering, and come across Inner Hunter, who is surrounded by paper and chalkboards. 

Hunter is surprised that they’re in there, especially when they say that he’s fallen into a magical exhaustion in the real world, and says that he feels completely fine and they can leave. Amity says that maybe the notes are what is messing with his head, and in the process of reaching out to touch them Hunter summons a wall of ice. He warns them not to touch anything – he’s almost at a breakthrough. 

Willow and Amity suggest that they help him out – the faster they figure out how to do the thing he’s researching, the sooner Hunter wakes up. Hunter agrees, and reveals he’s trying to heal someone’s curse. Not Eda’s – someone else’s.

They go through a research montage, failing multiple glyphs and exploding a few science flasks, etc, up until they start asking him questions about the curse.

Amity asks more pointed questions, making Hunter nervously ask what she’s getting at.

Hunter gets angry at the accusation, saying that this person isn’t doing it on purpose or faking it. Amity just says that it feels familiar. Hunter is generally pissed now, and tells them to get lost. Willow doesn’t stand for it, saying that he needs to wake up.

Amity figures this is enough, and burns all the notes and work. She says he’s stretching himself thin to do an impossible thing, and that sometimes things can’t be fixed. 

Hunter doesn’t like that. The mindscape warps slightly as he turns into a goopy version of Hunter, Belos eyes and all (something something turning into the thing that scares you the most as a defense mechanism), and he starts attacking them. They hide in one of his memories to escape. 

The memory they enter is in his room in the Emperor’s Castle. They hear a younger Hunter talking to someone on a bed.

Luz is revealed, as well as her humanity AND the fact that Hunter is the other Golden Guard. They hear the Inner Hunter coming (he warps the memories with mud as he goes through them), so they escape into a different memory, this time of the fight Hunter and Luz have before they start having a better relationship (it’s the same one in the Pre-Show events post)

They leave the memory when the coast is clear. Amity mentions that when Hunter told her to stop trying to protect the person she was hurting, back in Covention, he must have been speaking from experience. Willow asks if Amity was also speaking from her experience with their friendship when she told Inner Hunter that sometimes things can’t be fixed, and Amity says yes. 

They’re interrupted by Hunter, who shows up to kill them, when Amity tells him to stop because he’ll destroy his memories if he’s not careful. She burns the notes on another tree, revealing the memory there of Luz and him learning the light glyph.

Willow and Amity get out of the mindscape. Hunter wakes up, to the relief of King and Eda. 

He drags Willow, Amity, and Gus away to talk privately, and tells them the truth about being the Golden Guard. He assumes the worst, but Willow proves him wrong, saying that Hunter comes before his mask. Willow blushes here a bit.

Privately to Willow and Amity, he also expresses worry that he inadvertently outed his sister to them, and tells them not to tell anyone or her – it’s an important secret to her, and she might freak out if she finds out anyone knows. Amity doesn’t vibe with that, but agrees.

Previous Part [Sense and Insensitivity + Adventures in the Elements + The First Day]

Next Part [Enchanting Grom Fright + Wing it Like Witches]

Synopsis Masterpost Link

[alice-the-demon]

Hiiii! I had a few questions buzzing around my brain; particularly about cerberuses.

So you said they behave like normal dogs on Earth. But do they still have three heads or do they look like regular dogs?

Do they have any abilities? Sorry I don't know how to specify.

Are there any stray cerberuses, and do some demons keep them as pets? If there are strays, do some demons like to leave out food for certain strays or give them affection when they pass by (kind of like humans in real life with some strays)?

Since cerberuses can enter heaven, do some angels (besides Gustavo obviously) keep them as pets (probably not but you know. Curious)? Are some angels tolerant or even loving towards cerberuses?

Do cerberuses live in packs? Are all cerberuses lone 'dogs'? Or a combination of both?

Sorry for the long string of questions this time, I just love the cerberuses a lot! You can take your time answering, I understand it's a lot. Hope you're doing well!

Ok so

There are no Cerberuses with a single head. If there's one then that's just a normal earth dog.

As for the abilities, they don't really have anything peculiar... Well, they can do extra damage for the extra sets of teeth, does that count as an ability?

There are some doghouses in Hell, there are many demons and imps who like to have a three headed creature in their houses, but unfortunately there are also many who leave them behind without a roof on their heads.

They feed off normal dog food or, for fancier ones, unicorn steaks.

Gustavo, when he came back with Peppino after the crumbling of the Hell Tower, was the first Angel ever to have brought a pet from Hell in Heaven. There have been some discussions between the council of Heaven (that included even the Powers) on whether to leave Brick in Hell or not, but since he also contributed to stopping Lucifer from starting the apocalypse (and also because they got very attached to Gus) they made an agreement and let the Cerberus stay in Heaven.

Ever since the council made that decision there were some people that were shocked by this news. Fortunately there were the majority who were happy or even curious to see the hell creature that contributed to saving the world, but there are also some who are... Not so confident about this, to say the least. I mean, Gus is doing his best to maintain Brick on a leash and make him well mannered, but there are some people who are pretty sure that this dog will cause some trouble in Heaven some day.

Whether they live in packs or not depends on the breed and personality of the Cerberus. Pretty much like normal dogs.

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Huntlow Week Day 1: Prompt Halloween/Hooty

"Oh! Good evening Hunter!"

A sliver of light passed over Hunter's body from the inside of the Park house.

He'd knocked.

He had.

Willow liked the danger of Hunter sneaking in through her balcony, and though she'd offered to "magic him up" with vines, or to have Clover fly him up, tonight of all nights, Hunter opted to act appropriately and knock.

Slowly, the door cracked open and a small sliver of warm light slid out from the Park's kitchen in a line over Hunter's head.

"Ah! Hunter. Good evening!" Harvey Park smiled. "Please come on in!

"Thank you Mr. Park!" Hunter gave a small smile and Harvey opened the door even wider which made Hunter's smile wider as well.

"Gilbert's out getting some last minute grosseries for dinner, and Willow's upstairs waiting for you!"

"Yessir!" Hunter bowed his head only to feel Harvey's sturdy hand on his shoulder.

"Of course." Harvey chuckled. "And Hunter? I do hope one day you will call me Harvey?"

"I hope so too." Hunter whispered.

Within seconds he had rushed up the stairs, with a thick tapping sound from his pink crocs. He reached another door covered in pictures of various types of flora and knocked again.

"Trick or treat!" Hunter sang out as Willow's sunny face answered.

"BOTH!" She answered, pulling him in as quickly as she shut the door behind them.

Then, Willow Park had Hunter in her arms. She tackled him gently and they fell on the floor in breathless peels of laughter.

Hunter let out a snort and lifted his hands , "I SURRENDER!" he shouted. "I AM AT YOUR MERCY! ANYTHING YOU WANT! IT'S YOURS!"

"Pfft! You're being a pushover on purpose." Willow teased. She laid her head across his chest, ear to the place she had told him so many times was best to hear his heartbeat. "Did you bring the goods?" She whispered.

"Check my bag." Hunter nodded.

They sat up as Willow dug her hands through his school bag pulling out a big pillow case full of every kind of Human Realm Candy possible.

"W-we probably should wait until after dinner before we get started on that." Hunter rubbed the back of his neck as he watched his girlfriend line up each piece of candy in order of what she liked to eat first.

"Hunter?" Willow stopped a moment. She looked at him with a soft smile. "Are you sure you're not mad that Gus is over with Luz and the others for Halloween?"

Hunter shook his head. Gently, he pressed his hand against his chest where Flapjack lay. "I get it. Maybe one day I'll be ready to do a real Human Realm Halloween again? But I wouldn't want to hold anyone else back." He felt a sharpness behind his throat. "Are you disappointed?" he whispered. "I mean, that you aren't over there now?"

Willow's cheeks went pink. "Nah." She waived her hand and shuffled a bit more through the pillowcase. "Getting to do Halloween last year was fun and all ... until ... you know. Until it wasn’t?" Her eyes watered a bit. "But there's a lot of things I get to do this year that's even better?"

"Yeah? Like what?" Hunter gave his girlfriend a lopsided grin. From the look on Willow's face he knew that she'd found it. The one thing he'd hidden in the bag of Reeses', and Hersey Bars, and those weird triangle things that Luz insisted were "loser candy." And then, Hunter felt his grin spread.

Gingerly, Willow opened the box of Pocky and slid out one long thin cookie, resting the chocolate covered side between her full lips. With the tips of her fingers she drew his chin closer towards her own. As Hunter began to eat one side as Willow ate the other, meeting in the middle in a soft, sweet crumb covered kiss.

"I get to do stuff like that." Willow whispered as Hunter felt his ears light up.

"Mmmmmmm." He hummed. "That was nice."

"You wanna have another piece?" She whispered.

A sliver of guilt filled Hunter's stomach. "B-but your dads are gonna be calling us down for dinner soon?"

"Maybe?" Willow shrugged. She crawled closer, placing the new stick between her lips and with a devious laugh, she rumbled, “But it is Halloween, and I think we're required to spoil our dinner with something sweet."

And without any further argument, Hunter closed the space between them with another kiss.

[tcfactory]

Party Planning and Other Deadly Hazards I

5k words of Shang Qinghua bonding with Linguang-jun over being overworked and underappreciated

For the sake of this story, Mobei is roughly 15, Shang Qinghua and Linguang-jun are both 18. Shoutout to @mysteryteacup, whose analysis posts convinced me of the potential in "Linguang-jun is Very Young, Actually". Our Mobei-jun's birth name is Mobei Xuebao (Snow leopard), Shang Qinghua is Shang Cangshu (Hamster), Linguang-jun is Mobei Taifeng (Typhoon)

Also on AO3.

It all started with a small change. You see, Shang Qinghua's shizun made a reckless promise that whoever could push a medicine deal through with the Black Mire Sect - a minor sect skirting the edge of demonic practices by specializing in gu poisons - would take over as his new head disciple. The sect was situated right on the borderlands between the human realm and the northern demon kingdom and they were very reluctant to trade away any of their precious poisons, because they faced constant harassment from a lesser tribe of Snowtusk Boar demons just on the other side of the border. Clearly whoever could get them to agree to a deal would have to be a naturally gifted negotiator!

Usually Airplane ignores these kinds of risky assignments, but the temptation of skipping three years of backstabbing, social climbing and manual labor was too tempting. Besides, he knew how to solve this one. It was one of the wife plots in PIDW so Luo Binghe could marry the sect leader's beautiful daughter.

Step 1: Get rid of the boars. He could, of course, not do this on his own. No way. However, through the power of authorial knowledge, he could tip Mobei-jun off that the tribe stole one of the ancient artifacts of the Mobei clan after a chaotic battle and hid it away in their stronghold. His prince was a little skeptical, but Qinghua had not led him astray yet in the few months since he became his spy. The next time they met, Mobei-jun was generously splattered with pig demon blood and he was proudly holding a crystal necklace that could control all the ice sheets of the northern sea at once, apparently.

So that was that for the boars.

Step 2: Wait a little for the other local demon tribes to fight out who gets to settle in the newly vacated prime location. Shang Qinghua made a passing comment about how the Silkwing tribe could supply a 'generous benefactor' with the highest quality fabrics in the entire northern kingdom and would you look at that, this conflict got resolved much quicker than in PIDW.

Step 3: Introduce the sect leader and their new, much more agreeable, demon neighbors to each other. The Silkwing tribe happened to be a tribe of crane demons who, just like the Black Mire Sect, specialized in insect keeping. Their most prized specimens were the various demonic moths and spiders they cultivated for their silk, but they kept a wide variety of other critters as well. It was a match made in heaven! (Or rather in one of Master Airplane's caffeine fueled all-nighters, just so Binghe could meet a cute bisexual crane girl at the negotiations and turn the whole adventure into a two-brides-special wedding.)

Step 4: Profit! Trade agreement in hand Qinghua showed up at his shizun's house and received his much deserved promotion. The whole plan went off without a hitch, job well done, success and happiness all around! The next morning he moved into the head disciple's apartment and breathed a sigh of relief that he no longer had to live in fear of someone discovering his association with Mobei by barging into his bedroom without knocking.

If only that was the end of it.

-----

Shang Qinghua has barely settled into his new duties as head disciple when one morning Mobei-jun grabs him straight out of bed, before he could comprehend what's happening or put on some actual clothes, and drops him off somewhere in the Northern Palace.

"Baobao, what in the fresh hell did you bring me?!"

The outrage cry comes from a stressed looking demon youth who stares at Qinghua like someone handed him a dead rat instead of a report. He's obviously a Mobei relative, his black hair glossy with a blue-ish sheen and his demon mark a bright teal, but his hair is done up with feathers and beads in the style of the wind demon tribes.

"Qinghua. He's good at organizing." As if on second thought, Mobei-jun snarls at the other demon boy, showing all his teeth. "He's mine. If you hurt him, I'll kill you."

After that he wordlessly stomps away, leaving the equally confused human and demon behind.

Shang Qinghua wants nothing more than to ask a million questions right now - where is he? why did Mobei take him here?? who's the other guy??? - but now that he's more awake than asleep he's suddenly realizing that the room is extremely cold and he's only dressed in his sleeping robes. Are his toes turning blue?! His toes are probably turning blue.

"Here." A delicately carved box is shoved in his face, open and full of uniform black pills. "Aurora Pepper pills. I asked to borrow the domestic staff from Xiao Bao’s castle, but if you are the only help I get, I want you not to freeze to death."

"My lord, are they safe for humans?" They should be. It's one of the plot devices he made up so the Wives could visit the North and still wear their ridiculously skimpy outfits without dying, but who knows what an ice demon would have mixed into them. Shang Qinghua carefully picks just one and pops it in his mouth anyway.

"No idea, they were for my mother. You are a cultivator, are you not? You can survive a little poison."

If this demon is as young as he looks - as young as his outfit leads Qinghua to believe, which is somewhere between fourteen and twenty - then his core is not yet settled. Even if the ice demon parentage runs stronger in him - which is obvious, he's wearing the equivalent of summer robes for northern demonkin - he would have bouts when his core slants towards wind and he would find the cold of the north unbearable for a few days. So this is likely his own stash of pills he offered one from, which is awfully nice when one of your kin just dumps their human on you.

"This lowly one thanks the young master for his generosity!"

"Hmph. At least you have manners, unlike your master." The youth retreats behind a desk piled so high with scrolls and bamboo slats he’s barely visible behind them. "Qinghua, was it? This lord is Linguang-jun."

"Answering, this one is Shang Qinghua, head disciple of An Ding peak." He thanks his survival instinct that he manages to fold into a bow before his surprise shows on his face. Based on the nephew abandonment incident he always pictured Mobei's uncle as someone much older.

"An Ding? Good. Maybe you will be of use, after all." Linguang-jun gestures for Shang Qinghua to join him at the desk. "On account of his sudden spirited showing in regards to the Silkwings and the recovered artifact, my royal brother has finally taken interest in his third-born son. To welcome him to court he ordered a feast to be held, the success of which will determine Mobei San's standing in court and reflect on this lord’s qualifications as an organizer."

"Forgive this lowly one for the question, but why is the Mobei-jun's own brother in charge of such affairs? It should be the duty of the royal seneschal." Or perhaps the queen consort. Since he never had to write a wife plot with any member of the main Mobei clan he might have handwaved a lot of the court related worldbuilding. Still, he's certain there were at least three or four people who had to be unavailable before such a task would land on the desk of the king's brother.

"This lord is the seneschal," Linguang-jun says in a dejected voice. A pained frown slips past his not-yet-perfected mask of stoicism and Shang Qinghua realizes that 1. Linguang-jun is very, very young to be filling this position and 2. he’s probably one stroke of misfortune away from an anxious meltdown. This Qinghua can relate, kid. "My royal brother's temper has decimated his household and, in his paranoia, he refuses to replace the staff he kills. Ever since this one's mother passed three years ago, he has been tasked to fulfill every duty pertaining to household management, including those of the late queen consort."

After looking over a crumpled scroll detailing all of Linguang-jun's current duties, Shang Qinghua has a sudden understanding why the demon resents his brother so much. It’s not just the duties of the royal seneschal, he is doing the work of at least five different people, all of them near full-time jobs in their own right!

"Sorry kid, you are clearly too young for this shit." He didn't mean to say it out loud, but luckily for him the demon doesn't react to the irreverent tone beyond an agitated twitch of his eyebrows. "All right, let’s see what we have to work with."

It proves to be very little. Shang Qinghua looks over the list of the available staff (too short), the amount of food and other supplies Linguang-jun managed to drum up since his brother saddled him with this task last evening (not nearly enough to feed the obnoxiously long guest list) and the time available to them…

“He wants you to put together this party in three days?!” For someone who had only been a vague shadow with malicious intent in the back of Shang Qinghua’s mind whenever he thought about the dangerous demons he might run into while serving his prince, Linguang-jun is rapidly gaining a lot of his sympathy. “Can you even get all these guests here in three days? Jiuzhong-jun lives two months away even if he takes the fastest horses!”

For a royal prince’s introduction to court it was important to get as many of the bigshots present as possible, so they could all take a good look at him and decide if they wanted to try to sic their own spawns on him for a courting chase or not. Jiuzhong-jun doesn’t have any children yet, but he has plenty of nieces he could try to marry out into other clans. He would never miss the chance to come and gawk at the introduction of a Mobei prince.

“Mhm. Xiao Bao has that part covered. While we make this feast happen somehow, he’s going to spend the next two days transporting in all the guests with his portals.” Linguang-jun digs into one of his many piles of scrolls and shoves one detailing the scheduled arrivals into Shang Qinghua’s face. “At least the issue of housing them until the party solves itself on its own. Granny Oxbones is the reigning queen of the guest wing and she wouldn’t accept my input on where to put all these guests even if I bothered to offer any.”

Airplane carefully files it away in the back of his mind that when Linguang-jun gets stressed enough he still refers to his nephew with familiar nicknames as something to consider later, and tries to focus on the task at hand. So the current Mobei-jun hasn’t eradicated all of the old servants - the kitchen and housekeeping staff escaped his paranoia, as well as most of the guards and the hunters - only the ones in the highest positions. That should solve at least part of their problems.

“Okay, so we only have to handle decorating the feasting hall, source a fitting outfit for my prince and get the food ready.”

“What about the serving staff? I don’t have enough people to cater a party this big.”

“That’s easy, have the guardsmen fill in. Let them do something more than standing around and gawking. If there are complaints about the task being below them, tell them that they can take from the leftovers, most of the guests will be too busy brawling or scheming to eat anyway.” Demons love to eat, same as everybody, and even a bite or two of the delicacies served at their lords’ table should be ample temptation to get the guardsmen on board. “But this does mean that we need to make sure that the food is great. Does Linguang-jun have the menu from either of the elder princes’ introduction feasts? No reason to break our brains coming up with something new, nobody will care as long as the food is good enough.” It’s still an awful amount of work for three days, but it’s not undoable if he can tap into the Mobei clan’s supply network and doesn’t have to account for whatever happens to the guests before and after the feast. 

“I think I have the menu for Mobei Er’s feast somewhere.” Linguang-jun abandons the desk to rifle through one of the filing cabinets dominating the walls of his study. “We will need to substitute some of the dishes, because that feast was in winter.”

“Still better than having to write the whole menu from scratch.”

“En.”

“Does Linguang-jun have any suggestion where to get my prince a suitable outfit?” For the lack of anything better to do, Shang Qinghua starts organizing the scrolls left on the desk. Linguang-jun’s handwriting is very similar to Mobei San’s, but nothing at all like the blocky characters of the current Mobei-jun. They probably learned from the same ice fairy tutor, which further confirms how absurdly close they are in age.

“I have something arranged with the Silkwings,” Linguang-jun calls back over his shoulder, halfway disappearing into the cabinet as he digs among the stored scrolls. “But - Hah! Found it! - Qinghua has to be the one to convince Mobei San to go. He won’t go anywhere if this uncle tells him to.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t just gape at me,” Linguang-jun says, smacking him reasonably lightly over the shoulder with the scroll until he gets the hint and takes it. “Take this down to the kitchen, then tell your master that if he doesn’t want to go to his own feast wearing my old robes, then he should go visit the Silkwings, the sooner the better.”

Shang Qinghua pales at the idea of wandering the main Northern Fortress alone. “I- this servant worries that the kitchen staff will not heed his words…”

Linguang-jun seems to consider this for a moment, but he finally comes to the conclusion that his life is easier if his nephew’s pet cultivator doesn’t come to harm. He digs around in his desk until he produces a bone hairstick with a bead and a feather dangling from it. “If you wear this, the staff will know that you are working for this lord. Ask a maid for directions and be quick about it!”

True to Linguang-jun’s words, the staff is nothing if not cooperative once they realize that Shang Qinghua is working directly with him to stop the upcoming party from crashing and burning. The demon aunties and uncles running the kitchen fill him in, between tallying all the ingredients they are going to need for the feast and plying him with sweet treats, that the staff has been in a panic ever since the first orders about the feast came in. There is the grim threat of death hanging over their heads if the end result isn’t impressive enough and Mobei-jun feels humiliated by their showing. Apparently this is going to be the first bigger event Linguang-jun is organizing on his own, without the help of his late mother, and his staff is worried about sabotage.

“Does Linguang-jun have many enemies in court?” Shang Qinghua asks, lifting a tiny demon granny up so she can take stock of one of the too tall ingredient shelves.

“He has one and it’s more than enough! Mobei-jun never got over it that his late queen mother birthed one more son after the acceptable period for fratricide was over.” Airplane was proud of that world building detail. Obviously no demon lord wants to have any relative who might challenge his claim, but eradicating the entire extended family is a very fast way for a clan to die out. So, following a leader’s grab of power, there’s a socially acceptable five years when they can murder any relative they can catch, but once that’s over they are expected to limit themselves to those who challenge their position. “I tell you, daozhang, it’s not a coincidence the feast is happening when the hunters are away and we are low on supplies! And what is the king doing instead of procuring a beast for the fighting showcase of his son? Drinking and lazing around in his quarters, that’s what! Poor Xiao Bao, such a sweet snowflake, this old granny worries that his entry to court will be ruined!”

-----

Shang Qinghua is still turning that around in his head when he goes to find Mobei Xuebao later - It took almost no effort to get the grannies to reveal his prince’s birth name. Such a cute name for such a fierce demon! Airplane jokingly wrote it on the margin of his drafts, but he never expected the System to take it and run with it - carrying a big mug of fortifying ice slushie.

His prince looks beyond exhausted after opening portals all over the demon realm since morning and he accepts the refreshing drink without so much as a growl. He does, however, hiss angrily at Qinghua when he recognizes the hairstick stuck into his bun. “How dare he claim you?! You are mine !”

“Ah, my prince, please be calm! It’s only a token so the staff won’t eat me. I am to return it once we are done here.” Qinghua is actually not sure about that, but better not aggravate his prince when he’s in a possessive mood.

“You’d better.” He stops trying to rip it out of Qinghua’s hair, but he still stares at it angrily while Shang Qinghua rattles off the details of the arrangement made with the Silkwings. Mobei shows no enthusiasm for getting new court robes tailored, but at Qinghua’s insistent nagging he makes an affirmative sound that yes, he is going to go, now stop asking .Airplane is not perfectly sure what the kitchen aunties put in the slushie, but Mobei’s mood almost thaws by the time he eats the last of the sweet berries they added to it. A wonderful good mood that lasts for all of five minutes before Linguang-jun turns the corner and yells at both of them.

“What are you still doing here?! Don’t you have things to do other than standing around?” Linguang-jun is flushed a pale pink from exertion and possibly frustration. He’s dressed for a hunt, carrying a Japanese style longbow almost as tall as him and a quiver of elegant, black-feathered arrows. It’s fascinating to see how Airplane’s throwaway details got implemented into the world - he made a passing note that Mobei’s grandmother was an eastern wind demon, then he made one of Binghe’s wives a wind demoness based on a Japanese princess and bird motifs and poof! The world combined these two details into multicultural Linguang-jun. He has to bite his tongue before he could ask Linguang-jun if he had a katana somewhere.

Mobei is clearly not happy to see that his uncle is gearing up to leave.

“Good time for a hunt, uncle,” he sneers. Linguang-jun sneers right back.

“ I am going out to fetch our hunting expeditions back so we have meat to serve at the feast. Someone has to, unless Baobao would prefer to play pretend with snow and ice and berries!” They both flinch, which is interesting. Clearly that’s a reference to a formerly fond memory. When Linguang-jun continues he’s not meeting their eyes and looks just a little sheepish. “Go get your rags, nephew. My reputation rides on the success of this feast. I’m not going to sabotage it.”

It’s hard to tell what Mobei Xuebao is thinking, but his expression seems a lot less murderous than a minute ago. “Take Qinghua with you,” he says, ignoring completely the way his cultivator freezes up. “He has a sword. He can fly high and scout for you.”

What is this? It almost sounds like an olive branch! If only it wasn’t poor Airplane being handed over like a cheap token of reconciliation, it would be great .

Linguang-jun gives Shang Qinghua a hesitant look, but Mobei chose a good way to sell his pet cultivator: Linguang-jun might be part wind demon, but even he can’t fly very high. Give Qinghua one more of those pepper pills so he doesn’t freeze in the icy wasteland and he can track their hunters down in a snap!

Before he can mount an argument about the general fragility of humans and the dangers of the desert, he is grabbed by the arm and the next thing he knows, he’s being swept up by Linguang-jun’s black wind. Nothing can compete with Mobei’s portal powers in terms of speed, but this is not too shabby either, and unlike the shadow portals, being turned into wind doesn’t make him sick. Perhaps because he doesn’t currently have a stomach to feel sick.

While they dash through the desert, Linguang-jun quickly fills Qinghua in: they need to recall three hunting parties, all of them within a day’s travel by horse from the castle. “There are others out hunting, but they are too far to make it back for the feast. And after we are done, I’m going to leave you somewhere out of the way and catch a Diamond-Clawed Tundra Devil.”

“Ah. For the fight showcase?”

“En.”

“Isn’t it the king’s duty to procure whatever his son is to fight?” His question is met by minutes of sullen silence so he startles when Linguang-jun finally deigns to speak again.

“There’s a wolf-bear-hybrid prepared at the palace. Da-ge wanted to give it to one of his concubines as a pet, but the lady has much better taste than to take a mangy mutt like that.” Qingua can’t see Linguang-jun’s expression, but the derision is obvious in his voice. It’s unclear if it’s directed at the concubine or his brother. “It would be acceptable prey for a less skilled prince, but Xiao Bao deserves better.”

“Huh. You really adore your nephew, don’t you? I figured he was wrong about you.” If he lives to tell the tale, Shang Qinghua is going to blame his current immaterial state for the failure of his brain-mouth filter. Never startle the person carrying you at high speeds!

He’s not even surprised when he tumbles painfully onto the snow, Linguang-jun standing above him with a murderous expression, the bow raised as if he’s ready to beat the hapless cultivator with it. “Does he still go around telling everyone about- even his pet cultivator?!”

“No! No, my lord!” He suspects it’s only because Mobei San doesn’t consider Qinghua important enough to fill him in about his backstory, but it’s technically true. “Servants gossip! I heard it from the servants in Mobei San’s castle!”

Linguang-jun lowers the bow, but his face colors with either indignation or embarrassment. He’s more expressive than Mobei, but it’s still not easy to read him. “Good. Do not ever dare to gossip about this lord! Understood, you, you…” He looks at Shang Qinghua sitting in the snow like a plump, bruised peach, face almost disappearing into the soft pelt the kitchen aunties dressed him up in. “You hamster!”

Airplane can’t help himself: he laughs. Then, when the laughter finally feels like subsiding, he notices the baffled face Linguang-jun is making and laughs some more. “Forgive me, my lord. I am not laughing at you. Except. My name does happen to be Shang Cangshu.”

The absurdity of it all finally douses Linguang-jun’s rage and the demon huffs a laugh. “Of course it is. Should I get a bowl of sunflower seeds for you tomorrow, hamster-daozhang?”

“I prefer melon seeds! But worry not, my lord, I can bring my own.” It must be a good sign that Linguang-jun is teasing him. A little bit of harmless farce is always good in anxiety-inducing situations, and the demon appeared to be on the verge of exploding all day. “I do have to wonder, though… I heard that when that incident happened, Mobei San was around four? So you must have been a rather young child yourself.”

Linguang-jun gives a tense, awkward nod and a scene starts to unfold in Airplane’s mind. This is not something he had written, but it is something he could have, if he ever tried to put Mobei-jun in the limelight for a while. Emboldened, he continues: “Traveling at the speed of wind as you do must not leave a lot of room to change course if, say, a tear to the human realm suddenly opens up in front of you. It must have been a terrifying experience, for both of you. Easy to lose track of each other in an unfamiliar world, hostile territory or not.”

Linguang-jun turns his head away, clearly trying to school his expression into a blank mask, but he is too worn down and anxious to manage it. He looks disarmingly young like this; just a teen with too much work on his plate. “He refuses to so much as speak to me unless he has no other choice. What does it matter how it happened? I admitted to trying to kill him.”

Of course he did. For Mobei San to survive an assassination attempt - a smart one too, leaving him in the heart of a cultivator sect that has a longstanding feud with the Mobei clan - was a testament to his talent even at such a young age. If Linguang-jun admitted that it was an accident, it would have only painted him as incompetent, which was the fastest way to political suicide even before he could officially get into court. “Ah, but he lent you this servant, hasn’t he? I think my prince doesn’t hate you as much as he wants to.”

“Hah! That will not save my neck when my nephew becomes Mobei-jun and comes to eradicate the threats from the family.”

“No! He would not kill you, I’m certain of it.” As he wrote it, Mobei-jun at the time of his ascension was secure under Luo Binghe’s wing and didn’t bother to go after any of his relatives - unless they attacked first, that is. “Leave it to this Qinghua, I will smooth this misunderstanding over in no time!”

The look of doubt Linguang-jun gives him almost hurts. “Wait until after the feast before you try. I’m short enough on staff without you getting yourself killed.” The demon makes a sharp gesture with his hand and a burst of wind pushes Shang Qinghua to his feet. “Up you get, hamster-daozhang. We have work to do.”

It all falls in place like a well-oiled machine after that, even the hunt. Turns out that Diamond-Clawed Tundra Devils are really fascinated by flying cultivators for some reason. The beast stands on its hindlegs, reaching fruitlessly for the flying sword, and doesn’t even notice Linguang-jun sneaking up on it until he traps it in a qiankun box. They work well together, Shang Qinghua and Linguang-jun, and the demon stays cordial - almost friendly, even! - to his nephew’s pet cultivator in the following two days.

-----

“I’m so glad that it went well, my prince!” Qinghua sighs a few days after the feast. He’s trying to subtly rescue some of his paperwork from Mobei, who decided that he wants to have this conversation while sitting on his human’s desk. “I wish I could have been there to see, but my shizun would have noticed if I was missing any longer and, let’s be honest, the chances of someone mistaking me for a side-dish were much too high…”

Mobei hums something vaguely positive, then very indulgently lifts one of his hands so Qinghua can remove the papers from there. “Good work.”

“Thank you, my prince! But I really didn’t do much. Your uncle did most of the work.” By the end of the third day Linguang-jun was openly bemoaning that he wanted to go to bed and sleep for a century. Airplane can only hope he got some rest since.

Mobei Xuebao growls at him in warning, clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation, but Qinghua has dealt with so much shit in the last week that he’s too tired to be properly intimidated by empty threats. “No, really! I know he had a horse in this race, but he really wanted you to have a cool ‘welcome to demon court’ party. He caught the Tundra Devil for your fight and he certainly didn’t have to do that!”

“That was Taifeng-shushu?” There’s no better way to describe Mobei’s expression of surprise than ‘cute’. It’s a good reminder that despite his frosty disposition and already powerful physique, Mobei Xuebao is also still a teenager. (Airplane is not geeking out over learning Linguang-jun’s name, he is not . Mobei Taifeng was on his list of potential names when he brainstormed for Luo Binghe’s right hand man, before he even started writing - a character who eventually got split into Mobei-jun and the OG Shang Qinghua, because Tired™ second-in-commands who try to betray their employers so they could have one good day of rest please were more of a comedic relief trope and that didn’t fit the tone of the story.)

“Yes, my prince. This servant was there when Linguang-jun chose and captured the most impressive beast from the pack.” He was so picky about it too! He made Qinghua fly over the Tundra Devil pack five times before he identified the biggest one and by that time the beast noticed the flying cultivator. That’s how they found out about its fascination with the shiny spiritual sword.

Thinking about Linguang-jun reminds Qinghua of the hairstick he conveniently ‘forgot’ to return. He puts it in a plain box and pushes it to Mobei Xuebao. “My prince, I had no chance to return this to Linguang-jun, so you would do this servant a great favor if you passed it along.” Mobei makes a soft noise as he pockets the box, looking almost smug that Qinghua is, indeed, returning the token. His good mood makes the human a little reckless about how far he’s willing to push this matter. “My prince, I know you have no reason to trust this servant on matters of your family, but I have heard many rumors and hearsay while in the Northern Palace. I think there might be a misunderstanding between you and your uncle, so if you could talk to him openly when you return the hairstick-”

“Qinghua has not led me astray so far,” Mobei interrupts, his eyes narrowed. “This prince will talk to his uncle. But if Qinghua is mistaken…” He lets the sentence hang ominously in the air, but the sentiment is clear: if Shang Qinghua is wrong, then all of his credibility is ash.

“I understand, my prince.”

It's going to be fine. It has to be! Otherwise the System would have interfered, like it always does when he's about to alter the plot.

Right, System?

[sophieinwonderland]

Sweet Tooth fan here. Reading your posts (and the posts of others you’ve shared) has made me reconsider the show and think more about whether or not there is still misanthropic sentiment left in me.

I feel like if Gus was a real person and watched the show, he would be critical about the “all humans are bad” trope as well. Gus knew several humans that clerely didn’t want to watch the world burn, and showed he was desperate to see humans and hybrids coexist within the last few episodes of season 3, despite reaching peak misanthropy after Birdie died.

Ultimately, instead of making Big Man, Dr. Singh, and Mrs. Zhang go bye bye, Gus lets nature decide (or something like that), which results in the total eradication of the H5G9 virus, leaving the remaining humans spared.

As much as I like to think of the natural world before modern humans as some sort of lost paradise, I don’t wish to be too pessimistic of humanity. If the creators of show tried to convince me that David Suzuki, Carl Sagan, Greta Thunberg, Bob Ross, and Fred Rogers are automatically bad people because they wore clothes and emitted carbon dioxide, I would be devastated and disappointed by Sweet Tooth.

I appreciate having found your posts.

I totally agree that Gus probably wouldn't agree with the show's message.

I also feel that the idea of Earth before humans as a lost paradise sees nature through rose-tinted glasses. Nature is as violent and cruel as it is beautiful. Evolution is a process defined by a constant string of death and renewal, leading to where we are today.

Something else I need to mention, seeing how much of what I post is focused on disability and mental health... nature also has a tendency of being extremely ableist. We as humans, for all the our faults, have learned in the past decades to be kinder to those with disabilities.

Many animals, including past humans, have a tendency to just straight-up kill disabled children. And if they don't kill them, they'll at least often be abandoned.

I think as humans have become more developed, we've generally become better and more socially-aware than our ancestors.

One thing I find fascinating is to try to step outside of ourselves and consider how an extra-dimensional being might see us.

When we as humans look at the constructions of our vast cities and planes and amazing feats of architecture, we see things that are clearly unnatural because they're human-made.

But yet, we see a spider's web as natural. We see an ant colony as natural. A beehive. A bird's nest. A beaver's dam.

I understand that humans can be a bit... extra... when it comes to feats of construction, but to me that makes humans all the more fascinating as specimens of nature.

We are nature evolved to be capable of studying and understanding itself in a way never seen before.

I think of the now as an incredible and unique moment in the history of the world that will never come again. We are living through a snapshot between the beginning of the internet era which has morphed the globe into what's practically an interconnected brain with each human as a separate neuron... and a new era that may become dominated by genetic engineering and artificial intelligence which may become its own sort of life.

This single moment in the history of the world has never before existed and is likely to never come again until humanity has passed from this Earth.

For all the destruction we caused to get here. And for all the destruction we continue to cause, I see a beauty and wonder in humanity and our place in the world.

And returning a moment to morality, we see so many people, including those you mentioned, who are out fighting to make the world a better place in whatever ways they can. Whether it's fighting for the environment or for human rights or to make the world they leave behind better for their children.

There are so many good people in the world.

And for one final note...

I wonder what Gus would think if he saw humans at our best.

Because in the end, the world of Sweet Tooth is a deeply traumatized world of broken people who watched loved ones die and the world around them crumble to dust.

I'm rambling now...

All in all, I think we humans look at other parts of nature through rose-tinted glasses too much, and that humans are actually better than we give ourselves credit for.

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

"well Gus passes as human but he is not one!!!" huh??? what??? excuse me???

(Yeah! He's actually a- [Bean is obliterated in a billion pieces] (silly!!!)

Don't give in Bean, you are strong, resist the tail-

MISSION FAILED!!!

I guess he has a tail now!)

[kindofsortofmaybe]

maybe gustho stargazing for the prompts <3

(also hiiiiii)

HIIII ESME!!!! thank you for the prompt!!! i'll be honest, this is super sappy and self-indulgent, but... oh well. it's also unedited so read at your own risk

Constellations

“Did you know that constellations are different in the human realm?” Gus said, breaking the comfortable silence between him and Matt.

“No, I didn’t, cause I’m not a nerd,” Matt shot back, never one to pass up an opportunity to tease his friend. He leaned back onto the blanket they had laid out in the looking glass graveyard, shifting from sitting to laying down for a better view of the stars through the trees. He glanced sideways at Gus. “Tell me about them, though. So I can use your facts to impress everyone, obviously.” An absolute lie. He wanted Gus to tell him about human realm constellations because he could listen to Gus talk for hours. Gus shot Matt a crooked grin as he laid down beside him. 

“Whatever you say, Matty. For starters, their sky isn’t as purple as ours at night. It’s more like a navy blue. And it’s absolutely bright blue during the day, which is weird. And you can’t really see the stars from most places anymore, because of all the lights in their cities.”

Matt frowned. “But we have lights in our cities, and I can see the stars just fine.”

“Yeah, but their lights work different than ours. It’s a whole thing. But that’s not the point! Anyway, we went camping while we were there, and out in the woods, you can see a crazy amount of stars. Luz taught me some of the constellations.

“The famous ones are the big dipper and the little dipper, which are called that cause they both look like spoons. And they’re also both part of bigger bear constellations, I think. And a lot of their constellations have stories, like this one called Gemini. It’s also called the twins, because it’s of two brothers that were put in the sky because one died and the other one was so sad that he asked their—well, this guy who was kind of like their Titan—anyway, he asked him to make him and his brother immortal, so the Titan made them a constellation. There’s lots of interesting stories like that, and I think I want to go back sometime so I can find a book at the human library about them. I want to know every story of every star.”

Matt soaked in every word of Gus’s rambling. He had long ago stopped gazing at the stars, opting instead to gaze at the boy beside him as he spoke animatedly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he must look stupidly lovestruck, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was true, anyway. Suddenly, Gus turned to look at him, and Matt felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You should come with me.”

“What?” 

“Back to the human realm,” Gus clarified. “You should come with me sometime. I can show you the constellations.”

“Oh,” Matt said dumbly. He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks. “Alright, loser, it’s a plan. Me and you. The human realm will never recover.” 

Gus laughed, turning his eyes back towards the sky. “Yeah. Me and you. It’s a plan.”

Matt continued to watch him, unable to look away. He couldn’t help it; Augustus was magnetic, electrifying in an addictive way, and to be honest, he was downright gorgeous. Matt couldn’t get enough of him.

But what if Gus could get enough of Matt? Matt wasn’t stupid; he knew the chances of Gus feeling the same way about him were slim. What if Gus got tired of him, or found something—or someone—better in the human realm? Was Matt worth coming back to?

Matt chewed the inside of his cheek nervously, struggling to ask what he wanted to ask. Eventually, he bit the bullet, and softly said, “Will you come back?”

“What do you mean?” Gus replied. He again met Matt’s eyes, his brow furrowed. Matt cleared his throat.

“From the human realm. I know it’s full of all your favorite nerd stuff and you have friends there now, and their constellations are probably way cooler than ours, but… When you go to the human realm, are you gonna come back?” Will you come back to me? 

“Oh.” Gus’s face softened. “Well…” He took Matt’s hand, and the older boy felt his heart beat wildly against his ribcage at the feeling of Gus’s palm pressed flush against his own. “There’s kinda this guy on the Boiling Isles… He’s annoying and rude and waaaaay dramatic, but I kinda…” Gus hesitated. “I kinda like him. So, y’know, even if I found everything I ever wanted in the human realm, I’d at least come back to see him.”

Matt didn’t know what to say. He was rendered speechless, his face bright red. Finally, he cleared his throat and looked back up at the purple sky, breaking their prolonged eye contact.

“Well, that’s super embarrassing.” His voice was too loud. “But… I bet he likes you too. And I bet he’d be glad to see you, if you did decide to visit.” Matt gave Gus’s hand a gentle squeeze. Gus squeezed back.

“Good. Cause I think I’d always come back for him.” He paused. “But I wouldn’t have to, if he came with me.”

“I think he’d go anywhere with you,” Matt said, almost too quickly. He didn’t mean to; it was just true, and the words practically fell out of his mouth. 

“I’ll hold him to that.”

[k1ckback]

(Just some general Hunter headcanons in a hope to pretend I haven’t been close to inactive on tumblr throughout the past month or two 😦

a new hyperfixation means new writing folks 🫶😽)

fandom: the owl house

character: hunter (noceda or wittebane, depends who you ask)

- turns out, most of the group really adores human music, including hunter, who during his stay in the human realm spends a lot of his time in the basement listening to camilla’s old records not to mention listening to luz’s playlists (which, it’s luz she has a playlist for most occasions) he gets strangely sucked into weezer on accident, but other than that most of his favorite songs have a bit of a sad tinge to them, it’s his birthright. (give both him and luz some mitski and they’d have a hayday)  - he is awful at dancing but he’s still learning and he just genuinely likes it so who can blame him. 

- besides wolves being a fixation of his, he works pretty hard to learn about the animals of the human realm, (library runs are his favorite occasion) he has read countless books trying to further his education on not only his own animal companion, but a lot of the rest of the groups as well. (he gets so excited to hand out little tips about different species) let him infodump about wolves though and you’ll be listening all day. 

- him and camilla definitely grew much closer during the group’s stay, he’d never really even a semblance of a mother figure before so this surprised him a bit. he insisted on helping with dinner (so did gus though), and she definitely taught him to knit if not how to sow all together. 

- man camilla in general can always tell when these kids are upset regardless of any masking of it, so sometimes when hunter was afraid to talk to the group about his worries,  he’d try talking to camilla. even if he couldn’t explain all of it,  all of the time, sometimes the guy just needed a mom hug, and you know she gives the best. 

- there were so many living room sleepovers with the group, and even with his original hesitation towards it, he absolutely adores these. movie marathon with human snacks and passing out on the couch with his best friends around him? consider him in. 

- i’m so absolutely a trans hunter truther, transmasc or transfem to be honest, so much of his identity has yet to be found, especially by himself. he’s always ever been the golden guard, who didn’t necessarily have time to worry about anything but his own obedience and lord belos’ command. he’s not sure who he is, only who he was supposed to be, and he’s sure he isn’t anything like that. 

- lacks much form of structure, zero sleep schedule, and tends to stay up until he drops (this changes a lot when in the human realm though because the group will lovingly bully him into resting) that being said he can’t sleep well without flapjack, and tends to fall asleep with the cardinal dozing on his chest.  - when he isn’t stressed or anxious (which.. isn’t usual but happened a lot in the human world) he is literally just a goofball. he’s still learning how to let his guard (heh) down, but simply watching him content or happy? excited? the absolute best. so many of these emotions might as well of been unattainable while working under belos, and this freedom never manages to not surprise him.  - hunter has never had a birthday party, and while generally the customs of ‘birthdays’ are different on the boiling isles, luz does not hesitate to throw one for him. it’s small, mostly just the group and a cake, (willow, gus and vee help decorate and the house is practically lit up with streamers, balloons, gifts, all the things ‘necessary for a birthday’) hunter wound up crying mid blowing out the candles, and thanked them all repeatedly. he’d never really gotten a formal gift before.