#which yeah that was the only reason it was even remotely helpful. i carved out time to paint but everyone was like ‘wow you basically don’t

[crowfeathers]

*realizes I haven’t done any of my summer project goals* ahhh fuck I was too busy organizing social events and relocating workplaces and attempting (again) to get my drivers license. instead of following my distant dreams. skill issue

[edda-grenade]

Sleep.

Adaar and Solas attempt fadewalking for the first time.

#feral verse, 2000 words. on AO3.

They were lying on a hilltop in the forest, on a fur to keep the cold of fall at bay. Well, Adaar was lying down—Solas had sat up to give her a curious look.

“You wish to leave?”

“No! I mean, yes, kinda—maybe—I don’t know.” She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“You seem very happy, here,” he said, in that slow, careful way he had.

“I am! I am. I don’t want to leave my family, or this place, or you—”

“Me?” His voice cracked, just a little. Adaar glanced at him from between her fingers.

“Yes, obviously. I know you like to pretend you’re some lone wolf apart from all living creatures or whatever, but you’re my friend, alright? You’re not getting out of that so easily.”

“I don’t—pretend…” He sighed, his skin staining with blush, the faint freckles even fainter. His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, until he gave up and his mouth crooked. Adaar loved it when that happened. She was pretty good at making it happen, too.

“You do not wish to leave, but?”

Now she sighed and clamped her hand over her eyes again. It was easier in the dark, unwatched.

“The world is so big and so full of things I don’t know,” she said softly, “and I want to learn everything.”

“Adaar…”

She hadn’t figured out if she loved that yet—the way he said her name sometimes, how he looked at her. Like she was the sun coming over the horizon, or a thunderstorm in the distance, or the wind dancing through the fields so hard it sang. At least that’s what she imagined the expression would look like on her face—an expression that was meant for immense and somewhat unfathomable things, not for a single person.

“There is a way I could show those things to you. Not all of them, of course—but more than what is accessible to you right now.”

Adaar sat up so quickly her head spun a little.

“I’m listening.”

He explained, and her head continued to spin, although for different reasons. Lucid dreaming, delving into the Fade like into a cave, how the deeper you went the older the memories imprinted upon the Fade would be…

It sounded ludicrous. Like magic, if she had never heard of it before. It sounded amazing.

“Can we just do that?” she asked. “Right now?”

Solas gave her another weird look; his eyes wide and searching for a brief moment.

“I—yes. Come with me.”

They left the little barren hilltop that poked above the forest behind and instead descended into the small cave Solas had chosen as his resting place. She’d tried often to convince him to join her family at the settlement, but he’d steadfastly refused every time. It didn’t bother her as much anymore—the cave looked more and more like an actual home these days, with a fire pit and cooking tools, shelves he’d carved out of the rock to hold utensils using a spell she hadn’t quite figured out yet herself, and a warm, dry place to sleep.

Solas had a ball of light bobbing in the air above his shoulder, and gazed down at the bedstead. It was cozy: a pallet of hay covered in cowhide, with a blanket and fur to keep warm in winter. It was also not nearly big enough for both of them. At least not if they intended not to share breathing space.

“There’s a bigger bed at home, you know,” Adaar said. “Actual walls and a door, too.”

“I would prefer to try it here. I have set the requisite wards quite often, and I’m familiar with the peculiarities of the Fade in this place.”

She shrugged, glancing around at the runes and sigils he had marked into the walls of the cave. “Yeah, makes sense. I’m just saying, you can get familiar with the farm, too. There’s space for you, it’s not a problem.”

“I’m aware, since you keep reminding me so diligently.”

“It keeps being true.”

She smiled a little at how that statement made his ears dip and his head turn away so she wouldn’t see his face. He cleared his throat.

“I have never… attempted to teach this to anyone else.”

“Because you didn’t want to, or because there was no one you could teach it to?” She hesitated, thinking of his arguments with Lavellan's Keeper. “Or because no one wanted to learn it?”

He let out a low breath. “All of the above,” he replied quietly, “at one point or another.”

Adaar slapped her hands together to resist the urge to hug him, then clapped her palms briefly onto his shoulders because not touching him at all was even more frustrating than being shrugged off. “First time for everything. How do we start?”

Solas showed her how to set the wards—they’d talked about spellwork like it before, but mostly in abstract terms. It took a good while, because she kept stumbling over new questions, like how specific a ward could be, how permanent, how big a space it could cover… They were halfway into designing one that might be used to keep beetles out of the grain, until they managed to get back to the task at hand.

She settled on the bedstead with crossed legs while Solas puttered about by the fire pit and brewed a concoction he insisted wasn’t tea to help them fall asleep. Then she got up again and started pacing, as much as was possible, because her legs were too jittery to sit still. She was just glad most of the cave was high enough that she didn’t have to stoop—she halted, gazing at the stone close above her.

“Solas, did you shape the ceiling, too?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rock here has a different texture.” She reached up to touch it and closed her eyes, searching for that low echo of past magic—and found it. “And it’s been worked with magic.”

“…A little. It is not your fault you are so tall.”

A smile bit into her cheeks. “Aw, that’s sweet.”

“It was a practical consideration,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound like he was actually put out. “You insert yourself into others’ spaces inevitably, it was only a matter of time until you would find your way into this one.”

“That almost sounds like a criticism.”

“An observation. Foremost.” He handed a steaming cup of the not-tea to her, then sipped from his own. She breathed in the smell—chamomile, juniper, and something spicy she didn’t recognize—then exhaled a bit of frost across it to cool it down before taking a sip.

Solas was watching her when she looked up from the cup.

“Something wrong?”

“No, it is simply… nice, to see how certain magic has become easier for you.”

“The frost? Yeah, I barely have to think about it anymore.” She blew a puff of snow into his face to demonstrate. Solas startled, grimacing, and wiped the rapidly-melting crystals from his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Adaar said, very earnestly. “Couldn’t resist.”

He shook his head and grumbled something in Elvish, but he was smiling again. That small, helpless, trying-not-to smile. They finished their cups, put them aside, and regarded the bedstead again.

“I shall take the fur, next to the pallet,” said Solas.

“I thought the point was to fall asleep more easily? And to sleep more deeply?”

“Yes.”

“Then why make it harder on yourself? We just gotta… scrunch up a little, it’s gonna be fine.”

There was a long silence.

“I am not used to sleeping among other people,” Solas said finally, his tone even. He wasn’t used to other people—flesh-and-blood people, that was—in general, Adaar suspected, but she kept it to herself. Right now was probably a bad time to bring that one up.

“Alright, no spooning then,” she said instead and sat down and stretched out along one side of the bedding. Then she remembered she had to get rid of her shoes, untied them, and hucked them against an empty wall. Lying down, the scent of lavender became obvious amid the hay and fur; sprigs had been stuck to the corners to keep bugs away. She’d told him about that trick months ago.

It really was cozy; warm and inviting. She curled onto her side, drawing her feet up, and patted the mattress next to her. Slowly, Solas joined her, folding himself up so he took up even less space than usual. It was still a tight fit, especially since he tried to avoid any real contact beyond the brush of fabric.

“I will attempt to find you once we are dreaming,” he said. “With our current physical proximity it should be an easier task.”

“There’s really nothing else to it? We just fall asleep?”

“It is… difficult to put into words. Question your dreams, if you can. The key is to become aware—awareness begets agency, which in turn begets control.”

Adaar tugged the fur and blanket up to cover them. “Alright. Sleep well?” There was a flash of a smile on Solas’s face before he closed his eyes.

“I shall see you soon.”

It was not soon. Adaar’s mind refused to quiet, anticipation thrumming in her limbs. She kept shifting, unable to relax, and she worried she’d spend the entire night sleepless, when she finally woke up again to a dark, quiet cave. 

She must have fallen asleep at some point, then? So was this the Fade? It didn’t feel different. She was sleepy and bleary-eyed just as she would be when waking up in the middle of the night, and a cursory examination of the cave with a bit of conjured light—a spell that behaved no differently than any previous time she’d used it—told her it looked exactly as it had when they had bedded down. Except…

Solas lay tucked against her front, his body warm, his breathing even. His temple rested against her collarbones and his folded legs leaned against her hips. He was curled up as he’d been before, but now it seemed less about making himself smaller, and more about fitting into the curve of her body.

Adaar stared into the darkness. That was… unexpected. Solas didn’t seek out physical contact. Sure, he usually melted into it for one or two seconds when it was offered before pulling away, but nothing like this.

Cautiously, she tried to brace herself on her elbow to get a better look, both at the cave and at him. She bit down on a sharp inhale when pins and needles erupted in the limb, breathing through it with care until the sensation passed. But even on a thorough second look, nothing changed. The cave was still the cave, nothing remotely immaterial about it, and Solas still slept soundly, curled up against her.

Part of her wanted to wake him up. Let him know it hadn’t worked, at least not yet, and try to figure out what might be changed, because merely the thought of consciously walking in the Fade was enough to make her heart beat faster.

But he looked so much younger in his sleep. His features softened and relaxed, like he might actually be at peace. Adaar wasn’t sure she had ever managed to catch him this unguarded. When they were together, it felt like he hardly stopped watching her.

She let out a small sigh and settled back down, gently wrapping one arm around his waist. Hopefully that wouldn’t upset him, if he woke up before her come morning. Right now at least, a soft, sleepy noise slipped from him, and he rolled even more thoroughly into her embrace.

[alonely-dreamer]

Dangerous Creatures | Chapter 35: Dangerous Opportunities

Summary: Mackenzie, Elijah and Klaus keep busy in New-Orleans...

Pairing: Elijah x OC

Words: 2856

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23: Part 1 | Chapter 23: Part 2 | Chapter 23: Part 3 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 (Part 1) | Chapter 25 (Part 2) | Chapter 25 (Part 3) | Chapter 26 (Part 1) | Chapter 26 (Part 2 & 3) | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32  | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34

I made Marcel everything that he is.

I treated him like a son.

And when my father chased me and my family from New-Orleans a hundred years ago we believed Marcel was killed.

We each mourned him in our own way.

Yet, when I returned, I found not only had he survived… he had thrived.

Instead of seeking us out, instead of sticking together as one, he made a choice, to take everything my family had built and make it his own.

Now he is living in our home.

He is sleeping in our beds.

The letter ‘M’ he stamps everywhere… it’s not for Marcel.

It’s for Mikaelson.

I want it all back.

And if I have to push him out to get it, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

 ***

 Mackenzie’s giggles filled the room. “Stop it,” she kept repeating, but she didn’t mean it, and he knew that. They had started new games together, some even new to Elijah, as if Mackenzie was his muse inspiring him dirty little games he’d only play with her. It was innocent, at first, but soon, Mackenzie became more comfortable with him, more confident, and the stains of blood on the white bed sheets were so common now the compelled staff knew to change them almost every day. The implications of their activities only made them want each other more. Mackenzie, because she knew the effect her blood had on him, and Elijah, because he would never experience anything like this with anyone else other than her. Sure, he knew he would never love anyone the way he loved Mackenzie, but it wasn’t just about love. And that was something that made Mackenzie feel powerful. That was the reason why, sometimes, she refused to take his blood after they were done. So that she’d keep the marks. So that he knew they were there. His marks on her body. Claiming her. And she loved the way it made him feel when he saw them too.

While Mackenzie and Elijah were enjoying what both Katherine and Rebekah had called their ‘honeymoon period’, Hayley wished for death. Well, maybe not literally. But she did pretty much hate her life, and she didn’t have faith that it would get better in the next eighteen years. She was uncomfortable in every way. Not only was she pregnant with the world’s most hated supernatural creature, but her future baby’s father also was a total psychopath who didn’t see her as anything more than an incubator for his miracle baby. He had forbidden her from leaving the house where he left her to rot every day. Every day, she was left with a couple acting not unlike two hormonal teenagers around the house, in other words, alone, alone with dusty books she had no intention of reading, and a TV remote giving her access to hundreds of channels she wasn’t interested in watching at all. In other words, days passed and stayed the same, aside from the rising heat, and growing belly.

To make matters worse, when Elijah wasn’t busy eating his girlfriend (in every sense of the word), he turned into an over-protective grandpa, building the nursery from scratch, making sure she had vitamin, protein, everything a pregnant woman needs according to What To Expect When You’re Expecting, which she wouldn’t be surprised to find on his nightstand. Not only did it make her uncomfortable, and even more irritable, but it made Mackenzie self-conscious and sad, not matter how hard she was trying to hide it.

At first, Hayley thought it was jealousy. But Mackenzie was better than that. And she had no bad intentions towards Hayley, or feelings, on the contrary. After they had made sure Marcel’s secret weapon, whatever it was, could not detect Mackenzie’s powers, they had unlinked Hayley to Sophie, making the witches regret their whole plan to bring the Originals back in town, giving them enormous doubts about whether they would still go on with the plan to dethrone Marcel or not. Of course, Klaus was a threat to them now, after all they had done. Kidnapping Hayley, using his child to blackmail him… The witches were scared, and now, they had bigger problems than Marcel, and the witch community of New-Orleans was starting to turn against Sophie, who had insisted her sister’s plan would work. But Klaus didn’t attack the witches. No, Klaus was still in a suspiciously good mood. Aside from keeping Hayley locked up in the house, he was pleasant with his brother, he was pleasant with Mackenzie, and he was pleasant with Hayley, to whom his nickname little wolf had stuck. He wasn’t acting like a future father, by any means. He didn’t check on Hayley’s health, never asked how she felt or if she needed anything. He didn’t spend any time in the nursery, helping Elijah, or didn’t even talk baby names with his future baby’s mother, not that anyone had expected that from him. No. Klaus spent all his time with Marcel, and they were seemingly getting along great, greater than great, in fact, as if they were the best of friends who weren’t hiding deadly secrets from each other.

Hayley had started to worry about his behavior. What if he really enjoyed spending time with Marcel? What if he just wanted to get back at the witches? What if he didn’t care? What if… all the bad things Klaus could do, that she could think of, or even scarier, that she couldn’t even imagine. However, her worries were put to rest one day, as Klaus came back home one night with a newly made vampire named Josh.

“Josh here,” he had told them, “will be my eyes and ears. My joker, my…”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Hayley had interrupted him. “He’s your spy.”

Klaus had gotten to Josh before Marcel even had the chance to put him under vervain. The vampire was compelled thoroughly by the Original hybrid and will be the key to taking Marcel down.

Though the existence of Josh was a relief for everyone, neither his brother nor his girlfriend trusted him in any way. Not when he was in such a good mood. He was plotting something, and they had a feeling it was nothing good, for anyone.

 ***

 Mackenzie caressed Elijah’s hair, her thoughts wandering back to earlier that day, when he had taken her to one of his favorite places in New-Orleans, a once peaceful beautiful park that was now a crowded and loud playground. She sighed, moving slightly but enough for Elijah to let a drop of blood slide down on Mackenzie’s neck. It drew a red line on her slightly tanned skin and the drop came to rest down her cleavage. She ignored it, she knew he’d take care of it later. Though the maids would have to change the sheets again in the morning.

She had almost forgotten his mouth buried in her neck, his free hand moving up and down her arm, as they were lying naked in their bed, resting from their long day of exploring the city Elijah had missed so much for the past century. He drank from her, her blood, the most delicious in the entire world, like she was the Fountain of Youth herself and he was the only one who got to drink from her, the only one who had that privilege, because he was the one who had discovered her. He had been there first, explored and found her and now she was his and only his and that thought would never cease to amaze him, to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. But right now, Mackenzie felt everything but lucky, as she was haunted by a picture that would not leave her mind. A picture of his face in that park. And the look that said it all, even though he would never say it aloud, perhaps because he didn’t know it himself. A look she knew well now as it kept coming back, every time he looked at Hayley, every time he talked about the baby, about what Klaus should be doing but wasn’t, about everything he was doing in his brother’s place. It saddened him, perhaps unknowingly, and it saddened her as she knew she could never give that to him. In truth, no one could give that to him. But as powerful as she was, she felt she should be able to do anything, and everything she could do, but that.

He was content, lying in her arms, her hand in his hair, her blood in his throat, just enjoying the moment, enjoying her. But that was not the only reason why the question took him by surprise.

“Do you want kids?”

He froze, puzzled by the question. It surprised him, not only because it seemingly came out of nowhere, but mostly because he had buried that question and that answer a long time ago deep inside of him. So deep, in fact, that it was a hidden part of him, like an obvious take away of his very existence, of every single one of his actions. So deep, that the answer was practically engraved on his bones, carved onto his heart, like an invisible dormant pain that he would never let himself feel or remember. An immortal curse that could not be enchanted away and that will torment him for the rest of his eternity. Why that question? Why here, why now?

He slowly and gently retracted his teeth from her vein, licked the blood that escaped from the wound, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it from bleeding as he moved away and looked up at her. She had asked the question so quietly, like a whisper, like a spell echoing in his head, losing itself in time, making his bones quiver like an earthquake would make a house shake. That question had been asked and answered centuries ago. That choice had been made for him centuries ago. That choice had been taken away from him centuries ago.

She was looking away but turned towards him as he sat up and pulled the duvet to cover them. Not because they were cold, but because the time for their adult activities was obviously over. Now, they had to have another kind of adult conversation.

“I can’t have children, you know that.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Mackenzie…”

“Do you? Want children of your own?”

“It doesn’t matter if I do. I can’t.”

“I know you do,” she said quietly, once again looking away, staring at that spot that didn’t exist.

“Where is this coming from?”

She shrugged. “Same place your regret is coming from…”

“I have no regret,” he replied, confused.

“You regret not being able to have children.”

“That is hardly anyone’s fault but my parents, and they are dead. There is no one to blame, though blame wouldn’t lead us anywhere.”

Her hand found his arm and her fingers caressed his skin as if touching him would fix everything.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… I just thought… it’s unfair Klaus gets to have a child and you don’t. He clearly has no interest in it. But you do.”

“My interest in Hayley’s pregnancy doesn’t go beyond anything an uncle wouldn’t do. Though, I am no ordinary uncle.”

“This is no ordinary family.”

“And that is why your question has no answer, my love.”

She looked back at him. He rarely used such words in front of other people, but when they were alone, when they were being intimate, he called her all sorts of sweet words. ‘My love’ being the sweetest. ‘My love’ was the answer. It meant ‘don’t ask’, ‘it’s okay’, ‘I get it’, ‘I love you too’.

 ***

 Klaus’ face tired of his never-ending smiling. However, he was motivated. Nothing would stop him from reaching his goal. Nothing ever could. And certainly not a stupid smile.

He couldn’t tell which was louder, the screams or the music, however, he had stopped caring. He was tired and annoyed, and he wanted to leave this wretched court of amateurs as soon as possible. Marcel called himself a King and had forged himself a throne, but he was just some tyrant wannabe, a little boy in a paper crown running around with his friends, bullying the weakest kids on the playground. Though he would never reproach Marcel from banishing the werewolves from the Quarter or stopping the witches from doing magic, everything that had allowed him to get to that point he had stolen from him, and that fact was like wood to a fireplace, it kept his immortal rage burning.

Perch on the balcony above the party, Klaus and Marcel stood like Kings in a court of horrors, watching their nobles feast on the buffet. Though Klaus was too old to enjoy such an obvious and basic vampire party, he had to give Marcel a nod of approval every once in a while, to keep things civil. He was bored out of his mind and had run out of things to talk about with his ‘friend’. Fortunately, Marcel had a surprise for his sire.

“I’m hosting a party.”

“Yes, you are,” the hybrid nodded, making the vampire laugh.

“No. I mean, I’m planning a party, in two days. It’s a charity dinner for some… I don’t know, charitable organization for the city.”

“I didn’t take you for the charitable type,” Klaus teased.

“Well, I got a reputation to uphold,” he replied with an amused smile. “It’s mostly an excuse to see Camille again, though.”

“Who? Ah, the bartender.”

“Yeah, the bartender,” he chuckled. “It’s a fancy dinner, just your brother’s type of things.”

“You’re inviting Elijah?” Klaus raised an eyebrow, surprised Marcel would want to be anywhere near his brother.

“Right, and his witch girlfriend, you know, what’s her name…”

“Mackenzie.”

“That’s right. She’s a funny little thing,” he said as he smiled at his sire accusatorily. “She’s not afraid of you.”

“Ah, she’s been through a lot.”

“Do you mean you?”

They laughed.

“I admit, I may have been less than cordial to her… more than once.”

“It’s a miracle Elijah lets you go anywhere near her.”

Klaus knew what Marcel was doing, where this was going. He had been working at it slowly, but not as subtly, for a while now. Marcel wanted Elijah gone, out of his city, no matter how, no matter what it took. He figured Klaus was his best shot, and usually he would have been correct, but not now, not anymore. If anything happened to Elijah, Mackenzie would destroy the whole city, hell, the entire state. No, Klaus had one goal, and he wasn’t going to let Marcel distract him from it.

“It’s different with her. If I kill her, he’ll stop at nothing to take me down, and I’ve tired of our little wars. The last one lasted a century and almost killed me.”

“Ah, let him have his fun. She’s mortal, they’re fleeting little things.”

Klaus chuckled, though not because he found the obvious threat funny, but the mere thought of Marcel going after Mackenzie made him want to laugh. He’d pay to see it, if only it wouldn’t result in Marcel’s certain death.

“Not this one. This one is here to stay.”

Marcel frowned and looked at the hybrid with curiosity. “You actually mean that.”

“She’s a Mikaelson, Marcel,” he nodded as he put his hand on the King’s shoulder. “You know what happens when you go after a Mikaelson.”

Marcel laughed. “Hey, I’m just talking, no harm meant, no harm meant.”

“She’d kill you before you even had a chance to see it coming.”

“See, that’s my problem,” Marcel grimaced. “Witches aren’t allowed to do magic here, and I don’t think she’s understood that.”

“What? Your secret weapon’s been shining bright recently?”

Marcel laughed as he shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s the attitude, Klaus. Elijah… he doesn’t respect my authority here. And neither does she.”

“Then why invite them, then? They’re happy enough on their own. Trust me, they’re unbearable to be around right now. They’re so… in love,” he said, disgust visible all over his face, making Marcel laugh whole-heartedly.

“You were never one for sentiment.”

“Right then,” Klaus sighed. “I’ll let them know.”

“I appreciate that, brother.”

Marcel tapped him twice on the shoulder before he moved towards the middle of the balcony, where he’d be best seen from downstairs, to make his usual speech. The words never changed. “Have fun”, “don’t kill too many of them”, and last but not least:

“And no matter what you do, no matter how good she smells or how pretty she looks, leave the barefoot blonde alone!”

That last part they all said together like a chant, like it was a joke. But when Marcel explained the meaning to Klaus the first night, he learnt he wasn’t joking in the least. He had puzzled out all the tiny bits of information Marcel could give him, and the hybrid knew it was no joke indeed.

[modecaisnow]

Fitness Roommates

**This story contains topics suitable for 18 YEARS OR OLDER! Read at your own digression. This story contains themes of realistic(ish) weight gain (ie. 150 pounds – 800), mentions of challenges being overweight. This story is 3360 words, and 6 pages long, was gonna be part 1+2. This was a story I had saved for a bit. ENJOY!**

[This story follows Tyler and Zach, a dynamic duo of health and fitness. Zach, a bodybuilder with all the know how of exercise, and Tyler, a healthy and fit nutritionist, have teamed up and opened a business together. However, their business has gotten slow and not as many people are getting memberships anymore. As a marketing experiment, Tyler agrees to pack on some weight with the ultimate plan to lose it all following their dieting and exercise plan. But, it turns out gaining weight is a little more enjoyable than Tyler expected.]

Zach and Tyler have been friends for years. They first met in their freshman year of college, and Zach and Tyler were both fitness buffs. Their bodies were toned with dense muscles, but Zach was much larger. Zachary studied Athletic Training and Tyler studied Nutrition over the years. After 4 years of college, they decided to open a gym together and become business partners. Zach would help train people and show them how to exercise, and Tyler would teach them about nutrition. However, a couple of years later things have changed. Zach walked into the living room of their apartment. His face was akin to a greek god – high cheekbones, square jawline, and a strong nose. He was a tall, tan-skinned, with a body covered in rippling muscles. From his thick neck and massive traps to his softball-sized calves, which everyone used to tease him and call them ‘steers’, Zach was the personified ideal of fitness. His broad shoulders and flared out lats created the classic ‘V’ shape all bodybuilders aspired to get. His arms were absolutely massive, with cannonball-sized biceps, horseshoe triceps, and forearms that were as large as a normal man’s biceps. Zach’s torso and legs were just as impressive. His barrel chest must’ve been 60 inches and was covered in brown hairs. Beneath his meaty pillows that were his pecs was a wall of abs that looked like bricks. A dark trail of hairs led down his carved abs and into his boxers, which were being stretched from both ends. Zach was blessed with large junk in the front and a lot of junk in the trunk. His bubble butt was made of pure steel and bounced along everywhere he walked. Further down were two thick quads with equally powerful hamstrings. Bellow the knees were the most well defined and muscular looking calves anyone has ever seen. Tyler, on the other hand, was not nearly as much of a ‘greek god’ as Zach. He was very toned, but also on the skinny side. His face was square with a pointed chin and a sloped nose. His hair was cut short, and he didn’t have much facial hair. Being a nutritionist, he knew all the ins and outs of healthy eating and dieting. He was part of the reason why Zach looks the way he looks. He kept Zach on his meal plan. Tyler has helped countless gym-goers reach their goals faster and easier with the help of his dieting plans. Tyler looked up at Zach. He stood in his boxers in front of the TV, blocking his view of it. Zach crossed his arms, causing his large slabs of chest meat to squeeze together. Tyler grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. “Is everything okay, man?” Tyler asked. “We have to talk about business.” “What’s up?” “It’s been slow recently-“ “-Yeah-“ “-and I have an idea,” Zach sat down on the brown, cloth couch next to Tyler. Zach widened his eyes and tried to look innocent. “Well, …what’s the idea?” “Well, bro, what if we have an experiment where one of us puts on some weight, and then we both work together to try and get that person back to a healthy weight?” “That might be good, but it might take too long. We need people to join now, not after months of gaining and months of losing weight.” “Well, with our expertise, we’ll be able to lose the weight pretty quickly,” Zach snickered. “Also, I’m sure you know of some quick weight gain techniques.” “I mean…I guess,” We both sat there quietly for a moment. Zach continued to stare deeply into Tyler's eyes. “So…do you want me to put on the weight?” Tyler hesitantly ask. “…Do you mind?” “I mean…I guess…” Zach jumped up. His face brightened up and he fist pumped into the air. The two immediately started to plan out how this would work, and Tyler got to work researching foods and gaining techniques. He started planning out a grocery list filled with unhealthy fats, carbs, protein, sugars, as well as a plan for minimal movement for himself. Zach started to create exercise plans so when Tyler finishes putting on the weight they’ll be all set to take off the pounds. Before starting it all, Tyler stepped up on the scale to take the initial weight. He was 154 pounds. At first, gaining was an awkward feeling. Tyler’s flat abs slowly started to look more and more like a gut. He was continuously shoveling food into his mouth, even while at work. It made it difficult to work with new patients, given that their nutritionist was eating junk food, and had a little bit of a belly while trying to give tips on staying healthy. After explaining the experiment to every single patient, they all seemed to understand. After the first week of constant binging, eating even while Tyler was stuffed in order to expand his tank of a gut, he had managed to pack on 15 pounds. His flat wall of abs had officially become a rounded, flabby belly. When he sat down, it would flop over the waistband of his pants. Tyler’s hips were stretching his pants to their max. The waistband would dig into his hips, and his thighs actually ripped the seams of one of his favorite pair of pants. And still, Tyler continued to gain weight. He added more meals into his daily diet and doubled the serving sizes. Tyler added two snacks between meals, as well as a “weight gain” shake between snacking. All this food, along with his restricted movement, helped him gain weight exponentially. Tyler’s face was looking rounder and fuller. His arms were softer and would stretch the sleeves of his tightening shirts. The once toned chest started to sag down over his belly, which was spilling down lower and lower towards his crotch. Even his pubic area was softer – a layer of fat was forming and starting to creep towards his junk. Everything about Tyler was getting flabbier. This continued for weeks. Tyler had to expand his entire wardrobe. One day, when he went to sit down, his shorts gave in and ripped all the way down his ass cheeks. From that day on, Tyler only wore stretchy pants – no more khakis, or dress pants, just the stretchy kind. His shirts also went from XL to XXL, and then just as quickly to XXXL. Tyler was officially 330 pounds. His chest continued to sag lower and lower as his belly continued to get larger and larger. Tyler had patients who were as large and some who were much, much larger, and they used to tell him what it was like to be big. However, now he lived it. The sagging breasts slid and rolled over his belly, which seemed to weigh him down. As Tyler walked, he needed to lean back a little bit so his substantial belly wouldn’t pull him down to the ground. Even sitting in chairs, which now had to not have armrests so his hips could fit, he needed to slouch and lean back so his belly could spill over his lap. It was quite the feeling. After a while, Tyler started to like it. It felt nice to be big, but he didn’t feel big enough yet. Zach asked him if he was ready to start their little experiment. Tyler told him that he wasn’t ready, and Tyler asked for a couple more weeks – business picked up anyway since it was about a month away from New Years. Tyler continued shoveling fattening treats into his mouth. Serving sizes became even larger, he went from 6 meals a day to 9, and he started doubling the size of the gainer shakes. This was to help break out of his weight plateau. His arms started to feel even heavier, and Tyler’s thighs always brushed against each other. His feet also started to get fatter, to the point where he needed to purchase ‘wide-fit’ shoes. At night, he would slouch on the sofa, which started to feel slightly smaller, and he would balance a 60ounce cup of soda on the crest of his soft belly, and slurp it down. All while lazily watching whatever was on TV. After chugging the entire soda, Tyler would rub his belly to help with all the bubbles. His blubber was warm and malleable. He could no longer see his belly button, or feet as a matter of fact, but Tyler could still poke a finger in the deepening cave that was his belly button. When he waddled onto the scale, it showed he was about 423 pounds. Eating only got easier and easier as the holidays came. Zach and Tyler usually went their separate ways to see their respective families, since Zach’s are out west, and Tyler’s are up north, but this season they had decided to just relax and focus on the experiment. Tyler continued to bloat up and shovel food into his face, and now that holiday cookies were out and on sale, he made it his goal to eat at least 3 boxes of cookies a day. Zach would tease him and say that Tyler surpassed ‘Santa-size,’ and Tyler laughed along with him. Deep down, he was excited to see how far he could push this. Tyler’s neck had officially disappeared into the fat on his shoulders and chins after a couple days of gorging. Actually, his chins were now flopping onto the crest of his flabby chest. Tyler’s moobs hung down, almost as far down as his elbows – not quite, but close. His fat arms started to feel very heavy. Despite always being hungry, after hours of grabbing for food, it started to feel like an arm workout. When sitting down, he would have to spread his legs far apart to give his substantial belly room to flop down. On the topic of his belly, a fold had started to form above his belly button, creating the double-belly look. Tyler’s belly was getting hard to contain in shirts, so instead, he started to get even larger pants to pull the waistband over it. Speaking of, Tyler’s pant sizes went up a lot faster than his shirt sizes did. He needed extra stretchy, 6XL pants in order to try to contain his growing belly. The fat over his junk also grew, making it hard to reach down there, as well as use the bathroom. However, he figured out how to manage in both areas. Tyler started to just sit on the toilet when he needed to pee, and just reach around and push his fat pad down towards the toilet bowl. Tyler also started to sleep on his side at night, it was much more comfortable, and whenever he’d need to shift his belly, Tyler could just dig a finger in his belly button like a hook, and shift it manually. After the holidays went, Tyler stepped on the scale for the first time in a few weeks. He was officially 546 pounds. Zach was proud and impressed. He asked Tyler when he would want to start buying healthy foods and start training. Tyler told him to instead buy a larger scale. Zach looked a little concerned at first, but Tyler explained that in order for them to make a bigger impact, they would need a bigger test subject. Zach eventually agreed and continued to go along with everything. He even did buy a larger scale, one that went up to 850 pounds. At this point, food became really expensive for them to afford on their own. In order to eat a meal every hour, on the hour, the two needed to dip into their company’s profit. It would be fine since it would all work out in the end. Thanks to their excellent accounting skills, Tyler was able to eat as much as he wanted, when he wanted. Tyler truly blew up in size after this. Walking became really difficult…well, if you can call it walking. It was more like a waddle. Tyler mostly spent time sitting on the couch, eating, watching TV, with the occasional trip to the fridge, or to the front door to great the delivery boy. After a while, Zach mentioned it would be best that he didn’t walk too far, so he moved the fridge into the living room, and anything else that was needed, he would get for Tyler. Tyler rarely went to the gym anymore to meet patients in person. Instead, Zach set up an online messaging system for him to reach out to their “premium” customers. That way they wouldn’t be able to be turned off by what a huge blob of lard Tyler was becoming. His ass cheeks started to take up a considerable amount of space not only on the poor little couch but in his bed as well. Tyler was just about as wide as his full-sized mattress, so Zach thought it was best to buy him a larger one. Zach was about to buy a larger sofa too but figured that he didn’t need to since he never really sat on it. Zach was rarely in the living room anyway, unless it was to drop off Tyler’s next heap of food. He was always working or working out. Shirts and pants both struggled to contain all of Tyler. Folds and rolls of flab started to ripple and slide over one another as he walked, hiccupped, or burped. His breasts had become so large that a pillow of flab had connected his moobs to the wings of back flab. This gave Tyler’s arms more support, which made it less work to shovel food into his fattening face since all he needed to do was just bend his elbow. Tyler’s cheeks were very fat and flopped down his face and onto his shoulder flab. Sweat almost constantly dripped down from his brow, and he was almost always out of breath. When Tyler finally stepped on the scale, he was up to 623 pounds. He still shoved on…well, he still shoveled more food in. At this rate, he was just eating one large, nonstop buffet of food a day. Tyler was always ordering pizzas, Chinese takeout, donuts, and delivery from every fast food joint in a 10-mile radius using those new food delivery apps on his phone. Tyler continued to gorge, slurp, and chomp down food for a few more weeks. As it got closer to the end of January, he had officially changed his wardrobe to 12XL shirts, and God only knows how many X’s for his XL sweat pant shorts. It was interesting to wear them because, with each day he grew fatter and fatter, one could see the ends of the drawstrings slowly disappear, as they were pulled deeper into the expanding stretchy waistband. As Tyler’s stomach grew so did his fupa. It became impossible for him to reach even close to his fat pad anymore. Whenever Tyler used the bathroom, it came to the point where he would have to just sit and pray that it went in. His old technique of digging into that deep belly button to shift his mound of a gut had officially been rendered impossible. Tyler couldn’t reach down that far anymore. Tyler sat on the ever-shrinking couch, with his ass cheeks spilling outward on both sides and behind him by a foot, and shoved more food into his deep mouth. His moobs had officially started to hang lower than his elbows, which were now a series of folds of flab. Tyler’s arms were incredibly flabby and even when he raised them over his head, some of the fat would still be weighing down against his torso. That massive belly of his hung down, past his knees as he leaned back. Tyler’s fat feet didn’t fit in normal shoes anymore, and Zach had to measure them to get custom made ones. Tyler was a mound of flab, and he loved every soft, wobbly inch of it. When Zach finally brought the large scale into the living room, Tyler placed his feet down and rose up off the couch. He was officially 710 pounds, and he was not quite done yet though. Tyler had one more goal he wanted to reach– to officially take up all the space on the couch. Zach, after trying to convince him that enough was enough, finally caved in and agreed to help Tyler gain even more weight. To do so, Zach raised the price of their gym membership. He told people it was for “marketing purposes,” and most people thought it was a good idea. Little did they know, it was to stuff Tyler’s fat face with food. It only took a couple weeks before he met that goal. It was hard to increase the frequency of Tyler’s feedings, so instead, he increased the amount he stuffed in at one time. Since his cheeks had bloated up, Tyler found there was more room in his mouth to hold food. As a result, he ate multiple pizza slices at once, instead of one at a time. He also would dump food in by the containers. This included containers of french fries, chicken nuggets, candy, Twinkies, devil dogs, breadsticks, bowls of pasta, you name it – Tyler just dumped it in. It must’ve been the sight to see. His downstairs neighbors hated it though. They had started to leave complaints about an “elephant” walking around, making their ceiling rattle. Tyler used that as more fuel to his fire. He continued to stomp around his apartment like the whale of a man he was, in order to get to his next source of food. The ground would groan and the couch would creak with every little shift of motion. Tyler’s folds and rolls of flab rippled and jiggled as he chewed, burped, hiccupped, scratched, pretty much any type of movement caused him to undulate like a waterbed. Tyler’s arms were extremely heavy and tremendously difficult to move. However, his insatiable desire to eat and feast gave him all the strength Tyler needed. As his hips started to finally touch the armrests of the couch, he called out for Zach. Zach was thrilled. Not only for Tyler, but also for the publicity this would get the two of them and their business. Tyler couldn’t help but smile and think about how much larger he could get. To celebrate, Zach went all out and hired caterers for the evening. That night, Tyler went all in on the food. The caterers pulled in carts, and tables of food, and set them up all around Tyler. They all circled around him, and he would eat from whichever one was in front of his fat mountain range of a body. As Tyler finished off one table, they wheeled the emptied table away, and immediately wheeled in the next one. He just ate and ate and ate all evening, until there was absolutely nothing left. Tyler probably could’ve eaten a little bit more, but his arms were incredibly tired. As the caterers all funneled out of their place, Tyler’s stomach gurgled and growled for more. He rubbed and pat his fat sides with his hands sending tiny ripples reverberating through his gelatinous form. Tyler leaned forward and moaned as he felt his heavy love handles slide against the armrests of the couch. His folds all glided against each other, and the two massive ass cheeks seemed to rise up out of the deep crater they formed in the cushions. He was massive. Zach quickly grabbed the massive scale and placed it right under Tyler’s fat feet. His massive thighs made it hard to keep his feet close enough to stand on the scale. Zach grabbed Tyler’s fat fingers and pulled him up onto his feet. Tyler’s bulky flab slid off of the couch and flopped downward. As he stood up, the scale buzzed. “What…does it…say?” Tyler huffed, out of breath from standing. “It says ‘Error.’ Damn…” Zach muttered and smiled. “What’s the…weight limit?” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “850 Pounds.” Tyler was massive…and he loved it… -THE END-

[bastsoldtrollblog]

Raz didn’t feel certain about raising a dragon hatchling, but the only alternative was selling the egg. And he didn’t go through the trouble of slaying a true dragon just for financial recompense.

True dragons were mysterious beasts. Unlike their pseudo counterparts, true dragons were massively magical, and highly intelligent- Certainly, equal or greater than any troll, mage or not.

He only knew about them through hearsay. Some claimed they could shapeshift, and thus weren’t as rare as most believed. Others felt they were the true Alternian race, but had long since died out, whittled down by the more numerous and rapidly multiplying invasive species of troll.

Raz wasn’t fond of those conspiracy theory-esque rumors; There was nothing to back them up, not even remotely.

He first sought whatever information he could on true dragons. It was difficult, first having to avoid alerting Cerres or other members of the Forest Circle- They’d certainly be furious at him for needlessly slaying a true dragon- Then having to sift through mountains of information on pseudo dragons mislabeled as true ones. 

Pseudo dragons were smaller, lighter, weaker, and as intelligent as any other beast. They were confined by the limitations of physics. Too big, and they would crush themselves with their own weight. They were poor fliers, only capable of gliding, and their flames reached a few hundred degrees at most, as opposed to the several thousand degree heat that burned Raz’s arm through a magical shield.

He learned of a few fellow mage’s attempts to hatch true dragon’s eggs. The results varied. In one case it seemed the mother, left alive, found her hatchling and nearly killed the mage who’d taken her egg. In another, the hatchling ran away within a few perigees. Another still seemed successful even after several sweeps, but the author’s journal ended suspiciously abruptly. Of course their untimely end could have easily been unrelated to the hatchling, but being slain by the hatchling after raising it to adulthood wasn’t a possibility he could just ignore.

It was risky. The intelligence of a true dragon couldn’t be compared to that of a troll, because they acted both lke a beast, and like a troll. They could be unpredictable, prone to acting on instinct, while also capable of acting out of emotion, capable of seeking revenge.

Ultimately, it was a risk he was going to take.

Whether the reason was some lingering remorse or just because he was too stubborn to sell the damn thing, it didn’t matter. He was going to raise this hatchling.

The second thing to do was actually hatch it. Returning to the nest site, he determined that the rocks the egg had been buried in had been subjected to intense heat, but not enough to melt them. It was likely they were superheated and left to incubate the egg within.

After conducting a few tests he determined the exact temperature range that the egg should be subjected to, and returned hive to build an incubation setup.

Four carved, enchanted stones, taken from the nesting site for good measure. Three to make a base, and a fourth to sit atop the egg and provide more even heat distribution. Trying to rebuild the nest stone-for-stone would be clumsy and inelegant, and he didn’t expect the requirements for hatching to be so incredibly specific considering true dragon’s world-wide distribution.

Raz had already determined that the foetus was fully developed. Hopefully it didn’t have some other requirements to hatch besides heat.

He set up spells to monitor it closely, waiting for any signs of movement, and then went to handle the mother’s corpse.

He’d teleported it to the catacombs beneath his tower. Despite the time his research and preparation took, the corpse was still in pristine condition, both due to it’s natural preservative abilities and his own meddling. Not even a fly was allowed to land on it.

Raz decided to keep every scrap he could, for now. The outer scales, the hide, the claws, the teeth, the bones, were all carefully cleaned and sorted and put away in a chest in the tower. Only the skull remained in the catacombs.

Then, the blood, bodily fluids, fat and oils, all separated and put into barrels. Same with the flesh and innards, either jarred or barrelled depending on the size, and kept in the catacombs. Dragons rotted slowly, even in pieces, but he still took great care to preserve everything as perfectly as possible. They wouldn’t be of any use to him if they went sour.

It took some nervous weeks, but the egg finally hatched. Raz was out when it began- Teaching as Akirah- And it took him some time to dodge Cerres’ questions as to why he had to rush off so suddenly. By the time he got back hive, it was all but hatched, the egg having fallen off it’s pedestal and barely hanging on, punctured with jagged holes as the hatchling inside kicked and fought it’s way free.

Raz debated on whether or not he should help it, and decided to leave it until the last few moments when it was licking away the remaining yolk and removing the last scraps of shell.

He was correct in assuming it would take the same color as the mother. It was more vibrant, he thought, and it had black spines and horns. Something from the father or another forebear, perhaps.

Raz wondered if it might attack him immediately when he approached. Instead it just stopped what it was doing, and watched. It silently let him remove the bits of shell and clean it’s scales, simply watching.

After cleaning it, it continued to watch, as if waiting. Raz had no idea what to do here, so he decided to go with his gut.

“You hungry?”

He held out a hand towards it’s muzzle, and it sniffed him before turning it’s head away. It began to walk, a little unsteadily, shuffling over to the stairs.

He wondered if that were a yes, and followed it.

It hopped up the stairs, one by one. When it slipped down a few with a surprised chirrup, he hastily caught it, making sure it didn’t fall any further. It seemed utterly neutral to his touch.

It reached the floor above, it’s gait already more steady. Raz wondered where it was going, and then realized with horror that it was making a beeline for the chest in which he had stored it’s mother’s hide.

That suspicion was confirmed as it began to claw at the chest, scrabbling with tiny claws.

Raz swallowed the sensation of dread in his throat and went over to open the chest, unlocking it with a magical key. 

The hatchling immediately crawled into the chest, placing it’s feet on the rolled-up hide, the satchels of giant scales, the pile of claws and box of fangs.

It looked at these, nosed at the hide, and then looked at Raz. Waiting.

“[...Well, your mother’s dead. What do you want?]”

Raz opted to speak ancient Latin, since that was what it’s mother had spoken.

The dragon tilted it’s head slightly.

“[An explanation? An apology? If I brought her back, she wouldn’t be the same. It would be my attempt to raise you through her body.]”

Raz stepped forward to put a hand on the chest lid, and look down at the hatchling and the chest contents.

“[Do you understand?]”

“[I understand.]”

Raz narrowed his eyes at the dragon’s response. He wondered for a moment, how he could even determine how the dragon knew how to speak…

...Well, he could just ask, couldn’t he?

“[How can you speak? You just hatched.]”

“[Mother taught me.]”

“[In your egg?]”

“[Yes. She spoke to me.]”

Raz nodded, slowly.

“[How long did she speak with you?]”

“[A long time, I think.]” The dragon replied.

Raz sat down next to the chest. He figured this was going to be a long conversation.

“[Why did you kill Mother?]” The hatchling asked.

He winced. So it was aware of that, too. “[I don’t know.]”

The hatchling lowered it’s gaze, apparently unsure of how to take that.

“[Why did you hatch me?]” It continued.

“[Remorse, I guess. Plus your venom is quite useful.]”

“[Venom?]”

“[The stuff in your mouth that makes your fire.]”

The dragon remained silent. Raz opted to continue.

“[I’m quite old. Older than your mother was, I think. So I can teach you some useful things if you stick around.]”

“[Will you make me stay?]”

“[Hmm. No. I don’t want you to kill me.]”

“[You would deserve it.]”

“[Yeah, but I still don’t want to die.]” Said Raz evenly.

“[Neither did Mother.]”

“[I happened to be stronger than her. She knew that. She could have fled.]”

“[It was not her fault for choosing to try to save me.]”

Raz glanced downwards, and then nodded. “[It wasn’t, no. In the end I still killed her. I’m just trying to justify it.]” 

He rubbed his neck, and leaned back. He wondered if the hatchling were going to try to bite him, his throat was within range.

“[I will stay, and you will teach me things.]” Said the hatchling.

“[I don’t expect you to forgive me.]”

“[I will not.]”

“[Then we’ve come to an understanding. Did she give you a name?]”

“[No.]”

“[Can I give you one?]”

“[Yes.]”

“[You heard the one I picked already, didn’t you? Lykófos. How do you feel about it?]”

“[What does it mean?]”

“[‘Twilight’. It’s ancient Greek. I’ll teach you that, too. It’s older than Latin.]”

“[Thank you, then.]”

“[Call me Raz.]”

“[What does it mean?]”

“[Nothing, unfortunately.]”

“[Is it also ancient Greek?]”

“[...No, it- It has no meaning.]”

“[Ohh.]”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

If They Knew: Chris

As part of the No Good Horrible Very Bad Week for Chris and Jake! This is more just Chris having thoughts than it is anything else. Kind of a bridge to the next Jake, which is going to be... much more intense.

CW: Head banging mention, stimming/punishment for stimming references, references to noncon, survivor of abuse/torture having some very fucky self-blaming thought processes, conditioned thought processes that include thought of dubcon

Tagging @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxck-fxck, @slaintetowhump

“Hey, kiddo, whatcha doin’?”

Chris doesn’t look up. “Thinking,” he replies, slowly, just one word. It’s hard to do it, to slow mouth and mind, but he’s trying very hard to be good. Good means keeping your hands still, your head off the wall, your words slow and steady. When he taps, they watch him, and they ask questions.

He was asked questions before, too, and then his hands were tied to his thighs and behind his back and they said if you like to hit your head so much we can help you with that and so when they ask him questions, he stops all the things he’s been punished for.

He sits very, very still. 

He is very, very good.

Jefferson sighs and settles himself heavily onto the other end of the couch, giving Chris plenty of space. He doesn’t understand that Chris doesn’t like space. If he has too much space between him and someone else, it starts to itch and burn under his skin, licks up his nerves, alone alone touch me I want this please just touch me anything everything just touch please.

“What are you thinking about?” Jefferson asks.

“There’s… a new… couch… now,” Chris says, enunciating every word. Stop your fucking stammering, you stupid piece of shit. A handler didn’t say that. Someone else did, a woman’s voice, a voice he wanted to understand and hated and thought he was supposed to love.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice one, right?” Jefferson pats the cushion, like the couch is a very good boy. Chris swallows against the wish that Jefferson would touch him that way. 

I could be such a good boy for you.

“It is… nice. Thank you.”

Chris doesn’t like the new couch. 

He’s sitting on the unfamiliar cushions, a little too hard and new compared to the old couch that Nat claimed had come with the house and she’d just changed covers on and kept clean. The plaid fabric is rough to the touch of Chris’s fingertips, which run back and forth along it, tracing a line of deep red thread down the length of the arm, his eyes trapped there, staring at the hints of red and blue layered over brown or green, he can’t really tell. 

“Feels better to be in a clean house, right?” Chris glances sideways, looking at Jefferson. He’s older than Jake, but not as old as Sir. His belt buckle is silver and there’s a horse carved into it, words Chris carefully doesn’t try to read. He’s got narrow cheekbones and a hard jaw and he looks like a cowboy, and his boyfriend doesn’t look like that at all. 

Chris wonders, idly, if Jefferson would let him be good the way that Jake won’t.

He could find out. It’s just them right now, in the house. Everyone else is in their own houses, living other lives. He could unfold himself and sit in Jefferson’s lap, twist his palm between the man’s legs just right, slide back into his head and let his training take over, and maybe then the aching yawning empty inside his soul would fade, for a while.

Jake tells him that’s not the same as feeling better, but Jake isn’t here.

“It does. Thank… you… for helping,” Chris says, carefully. They did so, so much. There’s a new couch, and a new TV, and a new coffee table and all the glass is gone in here. If he goes upstairs, the rooms are clean with new mattresses, fresh sheets and pillowcases, even Jake’s.

Chris had kept one pillow all for himself so it wouldn’t stop smelling right, and he had that pillow tucked against his side like a puppy next to him. 

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Jefferson says, and his voice is warm and soft. He sounds like the nice handlers, the ones who trick you with good words and low voices and then they hurt you anyway. 

Or they don’t hurt you, and that’s so much worse.

The whole house is new and wrong and better all at once, and he doesn’t like it at all. With the insides of the house changed, it feels like a new house and maybe he doesn’t belong in this one. Maybe this isn’t a safe place, anymore, if it’s not the same safe place they brought him to.

Nothing is the same but the paint on the walls.

“They said I can pay his bail tomorrow,” Jefferson says, picking up the remote and switching on the TV. Chris’s eyes jerk to the screen as it lights up, as there are people now talking and fighting and fucking and Chris knows all about some of those things-

Stop. 

The voice in his head sounds like Jake, and he listens. He cuts the thought off before it goes any further, slips Jake’s pillow up into his lap between his legs and his stomach, and buries his face in the familiar, soothing smell.

He can’t tap or bang his head because he can’t explain it to them. They don’t understand, no one does. Jake does and Nat does but nobody else and he doesn’t want the questions, he just wants it to be safe again.

The only thing they couldn’t replace was Nat’s computer, and Jake’s laptop, both of them too expensive and no one had any extras of those, not even their friends. Chris wants to ask how Jake is going to do his school things, now, but he doesn’t think anyone knows the answer. Jake will have to go back to class but he can’t go to class if he’s somewhere else, can he? And Chris would go for him but he can’t do that, either. 

Maybe Vince will write more checks. He’s always telling Nat I might as well be the money, it’s pretty much all I am now, and Nat snaps back, Money and a poisoned liver, that’s for sure and then somehow they end up hugging and Chris hasn’t figured that out yet.

He doesn’t like that the house has changed, but he likes the people who changed it. Kind people, who didn’t touch him unless he wanted them to, who said nice things to him and mostly let Miss Ruth tell them all what to do. People had swarmed the house for hours and hours, sweeping and dusting and picking up and putting away. 

There were new dishes in the cabinets and the fridge was full of food for Chris to eat. New milk and new orange juice, big baking dishes with notes on them, Post-Its he thinks probably tell him how to heat the things in the dishes up, but he can’t read them, and he doesn’t know how to tell everyone that he can’t read them.

He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to tell them he can’t read and isn’t allowed to use the oven, because Jake always says not to tell anyone when he takes him to school.

They drank the coffee, while they cleaned. Emptied the pot and made a new one and then emptied that one, too.

Chris had kept to himself that the coffee was for Jake, that they should stop using Jake’s milk and sugar. He couldn’t be sure Jake would come back unless the coffee was ready. Even as he’d had the thought, he could recognize that it was irrational, it was stupid, just like they’d said in training he was so fucking stupid because he did things like this, like the thinking and the fingers and his head and-

There’s a thing you do in grief, a voice he doesn’t know murmurs, a low voice, soothing and professional. Who spoke to him like this? Handlers were never so kind-sounding. It’s called ‘magical thinking’. It’s not anything you need to be ashamed of-

Chris knocks his forehead hard into his knees, knocking the voice and the thought and the pain that comes fast on its heels away.

Grief doesn’t always show as sadness, sometimes it comes out as anger-

He hits his head again, and this time the voice stays gone.

It’s a stupid voice, and his thoughts are stupid, and he’s so fucking stupid. Making coffee won’t make Jake come back, but he can’t stop thinking it, can’t quit the circle of his thoughts, only one train will stay on its track, just the coffee train, the one that chugs along and whispers stupid boy, stupid boy, your fault, stupid boy, all your fault, stupid boy, because of you as it runs and runs and runs around his head. All the other trains are crawling along in other places. 

“You like Shawshank Redemption?” Jefferson asks, sounding a little more hesitant this time. Chris doesn’t look at him, only hugs the pillow tighter and shrugs his narrow shoulders. “Yeah, okay,” The man continues, frowning. “I guess everyone likes Shawshank.”

Chris doesn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t like when good people get locked up when they didn’t do anything wrong and he doesn’t like when the other prisoners act like handlers and shove the good guy up against the wall. He doesn’t like that he just lives there for years and years and years.

He only likes the end, where the good guy gets away. At least, he’s pretty sure he does.

“So… kiddo. Um. Chris.” Jefferson pauses. It’s a long, long pause. Chris curls up into a tiny ball, on the brand new couch, and hides his head behind his arms, his legs. His toes are cold but his toes are always cold and there are no Jake-spots in the bed anymore to warm them.

Chris slept in Jake’s bed all by himself last night, and he dreamed a jumbled mix of nightmares, training and the big mansion and the shelter all run together. He dreamed that Sir had Jake in his bed instead of Chris, and he couldn’t beg hard enough, couldn’t be good enough in the dark to take his place.

“When, uh, when they come back, you know… cops aren’t always… good, to people like him. That break the law for the right reasons. You… know that, right?”

Chris nods, but doesn’t look up from the warm darkness he’s created with his head buried against the pillow, behind his thighs and his arms. His heart beats fast behind bone, under skin, and he twists one hand into his lap so he can silently tap the pillow, finger-twist-tap-tap-tap, trying to calm his voice before he speaks. “I... know... that,” He says, muffled. 

Chris understands, although no one will admit it to him, that what has happened here is that they came for him - and Jake went instead. That’s why he won’t come back looking the same, that’s why he’ll come back hurt if he comes back at all.

He knows this because when the cops returned while they were cleaning the house, they showed Miss Ruth and Naomi and Jefferson and the small crowd of Jaden’s friends pictures. They didn’t show pictures of Jake, or Krista, or Leila or Antoni or Nat. They showed pictures of Chris. They asked questions about Chris.

Never seen him, Jaden had said, the eleven-year-old’s face set with sincere helpfulness. You’d never have known how angry he’d been when the cop car pulled up. The other boys had stood right by him and lied, all of them well aware Chris was hidden in the coat closet peering through the slimmest little space in the slightly opened door. There hadn’t been time to get him to the hiding spot upstairs.

They come and go, Naomi had said, bouncing baby Kaelah on her hip. I’ve seen probably a couple dozen of those homeless people she helps, since I bought the house. I’ve never seen that one. 

Jesus, that one looks like a kid, Jefferson had said, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. 

He’s eighteen, the cop said, flatly. His guardian assures us-

Like fuck he is, Jefferson’s partner muttered, until Jefferson jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. The cop hadn’t wanted to be there, and they hadn’t wanted him there, and eventually he left, driving slowly away. They let Chris out of the coat closet, then, and eventually they finished cleaning, and everyone left but Jefferson.

He is here waiting for Jake to come back, but they were looking for him. They cut up the beds and the couches and broke everything because they didn’t find Chris. If they’d found him, they would have taken him home to Sir and everything would be okay for everyone else. Sir always said if he ran they would hunt him down and take him back, and he knows that’s what happened, but they didn’t take him, they took Jake instead. 

He is stupid - stupid and a coward, because he could have gone with them and Jake would still be here, but instead he hid in the closet. He let someone else go in his place. 

He’s trying to do it all just right, but he’s not really sure what right is, anymore. He didn’t move - he stayed still and quiet, in the dark, just like they told him to. But if staying quiet means Jake won’t come back, that’s just as bad as being dead.

It’s worse.

Chris understands that, deep down, that being what he is would be worse, to someone like Jake, than being dead. It’s why he can’t go to counseling with any rescues outside the house, even though Antoni and Leila go. He can’t go because they all know that his kind of Box Boy is worse than all the other ones.

It’s why Kauri doesn’t stay still, why he never stops going places, because if he stops he’ll go home to his Sir, who he calls Mr. Owen, and everyone knows it. 

They could make Jake  be like Chris, that’s what the dreams mean. That Chris is what he is, and Jake could be that, too. And if that happens, it’ll be Chris’s fault for staying still and hiding and thinking that that was the right thing, only now it’s been three sunrises, two sunsets, since they took Jake away, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the other things he could have done instead. 

He tried to tell Jefferson his dreams, when he woke up. That he dreamed that Jake was the one on the hooks on the wall, that Jake was in the navy sheets, that Chris was being taught and made to understand how he had been bad. Lessons he already knew, taught in different ways. He tried to explain about his hands being tied down to his legs to keep the still. But his words were all scrambled, his mouth kept moving on all the other tracks of thought and not the one he wanted to talk about. Eventually, he gave up.

Eventually, he made himself speak slowly, softly, carefully choosing all his words. Like he spoke to Sir. He stops trying to explain. He doesn’t talk about his dreams. He just stays on the couch, and he waits.

He keeps his thoughts inside his head and lets them spiral-swim beneath the surface and back up, derail and crash. He stares at birds outside and thinks about how Nat likes to bring home bunches of flowers from the grocery store, the ones that have brown or wilty spots, to see if she can nurse them along just a little bit longer. Jake doesn’t care about flowers but Jake likes the trees, more, and likes to water all the garden plants and Chris’s feet begin to tap, cold toes against the couch cushion, rocking them up and down. 

Sir has trees but Chris was never allowed to see them. 

My beautiful little secret, aren’t you? Sweet boy. Karen knows how to let a man buy what he wants, hm?

He shudders, feeling a sudden surge through himself of something he’s never felt when he thinks of Sir, not ever before. Chris thinks of his Sir’s oil-slick smile and the fingers that held his chin and he doesn’t feel like he misses him, or wants to be back in his silky sheets, or any of it.

Chris thinks of Sir’s touch and he’s disgusted by it. 

I hate him.

The thought barely seems like his own voice, it seems like someone else, a voice that’s his but not his at all. Under the surface, buried beneath the rules and the training and the pain. It’s a stronger voice than his real one. It’s the voice of someone who had people who loved him.

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I don’t ever want him to touch me again. I didn’t want any of this and I don’t ever want to do it again.

He must have made a sound - a breath, a loud exhale, a choked-off sob - because Jefferson suddenly shifts around to look at him, leaning over, cowboy-smile, a little sad, a little unsure. “Hey, you okay, Chris?”

“I d-don’t want, want to go back,” Chris says, trying to keep his voice slow, but he can’t quite hold the words back this time. He hugs the pillow tighter. “I don’t, don’t-don’t, don’t want, want to to to to go back to, to my Sir, I don’t want Jake to be-be hurt, I don’t want it. I don’t. I don’t want it.”

“Your what-... holy fuck,” Jefferson mutters, staring wide-eyed at Chris. He waits for the repulsion that will follow shortly after, but instead, Jefferson only shakes his head, like a dog shaking water off its back, and scoots slowly across the couch, until he’s sitting right next to him. “Can I… can I hold you, Chris? Would that help you feel better?”

Chris nods, numbly, and Jefferson’s arms are warm around him. He tucks his chin under the sharp line of the older man’s jaw. He is skinnier than Jake is, he’s not as warm or as comforting, but he’s something. 

Jefferson is kind, and Chris knows - like Kauri knows, he thinks - that men are usually only kind if he’s good in a certain way.

If I turn my head and kiss your neck, if I tilt my head just right, bite my lip, if I do all of it just right, will you be just like him? Are you just like him? Is everyone like him, in the end, or are they better, if you let them be?

If I wanted to be good for you, would you let me?

Chris doesn’t know the answer, but he knows something better - he knows he doesn’t want to try. He wants to just be Chris, who runs and taps and thinks about birds. He wants to be those things, he doesn’t want to be empty, or good, anymore.

Jake would be so proud of him-

He cuts the thought off before the tears can do more than threaten around the edges of his vision, and blinks them away.

“We’ll pay his bail as soon as they let us,” Jefferson says, softly, unaware of the battle raging inside Chris’s mind. “Both of them. They’ll be home before you know it. It’ll be okay, Chris. Now we can tell Nat we know, and we’re all in this together, right? We can help you guys out a little better this way. Okay?”

“Oh, okay,” Chris murmurs. There’s a sound he doesn’t understand at first from the kitchen, and Jefferson tenses up, tightening his arms around Chris, looking over. Just as Chris realizes that he heard was the scrape-squeak of the old hinges on the basement door, he hears a voice he knows very well.

“Oh, wow, that table is new,” Antoni says, muffled, and Chris is already twisting out of Jefferson’s arms, unfolding himself, Jake’s pillow dropping with a soft sound to the floor as he all but flings himself across the entryway and into the kitchen beyond it.

“Antoni! Antoni-antoni-ant-ant-ant-” Chris throws himself at the other man, who catches his balance just barely and lets out a startled, soft laugh. 

“Chris! Oh, thank God, you’re okay.” Antoni holds him and Chris breathes him in. He doesn’t smell like Jake but he still smells like safe to Chris. “You have been here the whole time? I’m so sorry, Chris, when we heard the door-”

“You, you you you you-” Chris can’t catch up to his mouth, his thoughts are whirling, and he drops his head onto Antoni’s shoulder lightly, once-twice-three-times, trying to soothe his jagged nerves, slow himself down. “You, you-you had to go, had to, I was still upstairs. Jake hid me, Jake kept me safe, Jake kept, he kept, kept me me me safe.”

“Good, good. I’m glad.” Antoni doesn’t react to the gentle tap of Chris’s forehead against his shoulder, only holds him tightly, looking towards the front door. “Where is he? Leila is still with Nine and Jenna. We haven’t heard anything, but…”

“Jake is, um.” Chris swallows and buries his face in Antoni’s neck. There’s a circular scar right there, where Antonis owner pressed cigarettes into his skin. He would say, Antoni says in counseling, while Chris pretends he’s not eavesdropping, to be his pretty ashtray. I was good at being an ashtray. I would like to be good at other things, now.

“He’s what, Chrisha?” Antoni goes very still. “He’s what-”

“He’s in jail,” Jefferson says from the doorway. Antoni raises his head, surprised, and the two men stare each other down. Antoni tightens his arms around Chris, sets his jaw. “He got arrested during the raid. I’m Jefferson, I live across the street.”

“He’s helping, Antoni,” Chris says, sliding his arms around Antoni’s waist, tapping fingers on his back, just to the right of his spine. “Everyone came, came over to help me.”

“Who is… everyone?” Antoni asks, but his arms relax, just a little. 

“The neighborhood,” Jefferson says, and moves into the kitchen. Antoni tenses again, his eyes locked on the man as he moves, slow like he’s trying not to spook them, to lean his back against the countertop and cross his arms. “No worries. We’re just here to help. We fixed up the house, they trashed it pretty hard. Kid was left behind. We figured one of us should stay with him ‘til Natalie and the other one get back.”

“Jake,” Chris says, softly. “And he’s coming, coming back for me. He, he promised, Antoni, he, he he he promised.”

“Jake wouldn’t break a promise to you, Chrisha. If he said he’ll come back, he will.” Antoni hesitates - there’s a long pause - and then he says, softly, “Thank you, Jefferson. We… we didn’t want to leave him, but-”

“Say no more.” Jefferson holds up one hand. “You’re a Boxie, too, right?”

Antoni’s lip twitches in a faint smile. “Is that what you call us?”

“Yep.” 

They lock eyes for another long moment, a tension Chris doesn’t understand in the air. He taps against Antoni’s ribcage and his back, seeking out the comfort in it, the certainty of the motion. 

“I am.” Antoni inclines his head, just a little. “A… Boxie. Do you know when Jake and Natalie will come back?”

“I’m going to the jail to pick ‘em up tomorrow, I hope,” Jefferson says.

There’s another long silence. Chris doesn’t like long silences, and he leans up on his tiptoes so he can whisper in Antoni’s ear. “He’s, he’s nice.”

“I can see that,” Antoni replies, tilting his head slightly, that dry smile still on his face. “Are you safe with him, Chrisha?”

Jefferson tenses, eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t try to argue. He waits, and lets Chris try to calm his mind enough to come up with an honest answer.

“I think, um, I think-think-think so,” Chris says. He wants to nuzzle into Antoni’s neck just to be pushed away, but he pushes down the urge. “Hey, um, hey Antoni? Antoni can I tell you, you something? Can, can, can I tell, can I tell you-”

“Of course, Chrisha.”

“Today I, I, I thought of my Sir, I thought of him, of Sir, to-today.” 

“Yeah?” Antoni’s voice is carefully steady and neutral, but Chris can read the unhappiness in it. Antoni never thinks of his own owner, when he isn’t in counseling or having nightmares. “What did you think about him?”

“I hate him,” Chris whispers into Antoni’s ear, fiercely, with real conviction. “I hate him so, so, so much.”

Antoni huffs out a silent laugh, gives Chris a tight squeeze. “We’ll have to tell Jake when he gets back, hm?”

“He’ll be, do you, do you think he’ll be be be proud of me?”

“He is always proud of you, Chrisha. We all are. But he will be proud of this.”

“Hey,” Jefferson interrupts. His belt buckle flashes, reflects the kitchen light. “Um. Can I ask… when he says ‘my Sir’... does he, uh, mean-... what I think he means? Like a weird… uh, S-E-X thing? Because that kid can’t be of age, right?”

“All pets are of legal consenting age at time of signing,” Antoni and Chris intone together, instantly, memorized words in robotic voices.

“Jesus Christ,” Jefferson says, eyes wide. “Is that a yes? Because-”

“I’m eighteen,” Chris says, firmly. “I’m, um, I’m I’m I’m eighteen.”

“It means exactly what you think it means.” Antoni sighs. “How much do you know about us? The, um… Boxies?”

“Not much. Just that it’s wrong as shit and fucked up.” Jefferson frowns. “Do I need to sit down, if I ask you to tell me more?”

Antoni keeps one arm around Chris, holding him tightly around the waist. Jefferson is watching them, watching Chris press instinctively into Antoni’s side and stay there. Chris understands that Jefferson is reading Chris, seeing him in a whole new way than he had before.

They think we’re whores, that’s all, Kauri says heavily some nights, when he’s low and he can’t go see his friend he calls on the phone. Or when they’ve had a fight again. They don’t get that we didn’t want to be, it wasn’t our choice.

Jefferson looks like he might… understand, that Chris doesn’t want to be.

“If Chris says I should tell you, I will. But we’re not supposed to talk about it to anyone.”

“Am I gonna wanna shoot whoever the fuck this ‘Sir’ guy is if you tell me?”

A pause. “Probably.”

“Then I’ll take a seat.” Jefferson flops down into one of the new kitchen chairs. “All right, Antoni. Let’s talk. What exactly are we gonna be circling around to protect you from?”

Antoni takes a breath, hugs Chris close, and then nods and moves to sit, as well. He stares Jefferson in the eyes for a long, long moment, and then folds his hands in front of himself as Chris sits next to him, scooting his own chair until his knee is touching Antoni’s, tapping on the table, finger-twist-tap-tap-tap.

“They will tell you we signed up for this,” Antoni says, heavily.

“I’m eighteen,” Chris says quickly, automatic. “I signed, signed, signed up for, for for for for-to be, um, to be this.”

“They teach us we signed up for this,” Antoni continues. Jefferson’s eyes are on Chris’s tapping fingers, but he doesn’t say anything. “But we didn’t.” Antoni hesitates, then rolls his long sleeve up to his elbow on the right side, showing Jefferson a line of perfectly placed circular burn scars that go from just beneath his palm to the crease inside his elbow. “Do you think I signed up for this?”

Jefferson sits back, staring. Then he slowly raises his eyes. “Uh. Fuck no. Nobody could ever-”

“This was only pain,” Antoni says, rolling his sleeve back down. “Chris - those like him - survive far worse. They tell us in training that what people like Chris survive is nothing, but I know… I know better. There was one in my home, too. I know better.”

Chris bounces in his seat, avoiding Jefferson’s eyes, feeling the heat rise in his face. 

“What did Chris survive?” Jefferson asks, voice dropping. He sounds like Jake - angry and deep-voiced. Chris closes his eyes and pretends Jake is here right now with him. Jake will be home soon. “What did-... I know he said about his age, but… is he lying?”

“He was taught to lie. We are all taught to lie.”

“You didn’t answer the first question. What did Chris survive?”

Antoni clears his throat, swallows. Chris’s tapping speeds up, imperceptibly. “... do you know the designations? Do you know what a Romantic is?”

Jefferson is silent for a long time, and then slams his hand flat down on the table so hard Chris jumps, jerking back and away with a soft surprised cry, and Antoni puts his arms around him again to keep him where he is. “You have got to be fucking kidding-... shit. Fuck. I… I need a minute. I just. What kind of fucking piece of shit-... You’re telling me that kid was-... that he ran away from-”

“I am telling you,” Antoni says quietly. “Exactly that.”

Jefferson shoves himself to his feet wordlessly, stalks out of the house, slams the new front door behind himself so hard it rattles in the frame. Chris stares, wide-eyed, after him.

“Did, did, did I, did I mess up, did I say-say, say say-... was, was I bad, Antoni? Was, was I, was I bad-”

“No, Chrisha. Natalie always says more people would help us if they knew.” Antoni sighs. “Now he knows. Can I make you some lunch?”

“There’s, um, still some, some-some-some pizza, so we-”

“Pizza? Why is there pizza?”

“Um.” Chris tries on a small smile, and to his relief, Antoni returns it. “Um. So, so, so when you asked, um, about the-the neighborhood?”

“Yeah?”

“The, um, the the the neighborhood… bought me pizza.”

[chaosride]

A Divine Appointment (x7)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

“You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance.” — Franklin P. Jones

Their next weekly Wicked Grace night was interesting. Anders had tried to beg off with the reasoning of not wanting to leave the kids alone all night at the clinic, and Varric had easily told him to bring the kids with him. Anders had expected Norah to run them off, as the owner had made it clear that the Hanged Man was a place for drinking and gambling. However that night Norah had just waved them through towards the stairs to Varric’s quarters. At Anders’ questioning look, Norah shrugged.

“New management,” was all she told him.

It was really all the explanation needed; the Hanged Man changed hands so often between the shadier figures of Kirkwall’s underground that they were under new management every other week it seemed. It was something that made Varric rhapsodize about how the Hanged Man deserved a better owner, someone who knew what they were doing and deserved her. It was no secret that the someone the dwarf had in mind was himself. Anders hoped he wouldn’t be too irritable about it tonight- it made him ruthless in cards.

Varric, however, was cheerful as ever when they got to his room. Hawke, Fenris and Isabela were already there. Aveline was going to come later after her patrol and had asked to bring Donnic along. They chatted as Anders settled at the table with them, allowing the twins to sit in his lap when neither would tolerate being put down. He rolled his eyes as Isabela cooed at them but allowed Cahir to go to her regardless. Primarily because he knew who the boy was really wanting to go to. He chuckled when Isabela called Cahir a traitor when he immediately began squirming in her hold, trying to get to Fenris. The elf let out a very put upon sigh but he was smiling when he took Cahir from her.

“You are very determined, I’ll give you that,” Fenris told Cahir.

The boy had settled down once in Fenris’ lap. Anders determinedly did not stare at them together; Cahir was skittish and didn’t like to be held by many people. He sought out even fewer as actively as he went to Fenris anytime the warrior was around. The sight of them made Anders want things to be different, despite the fact that he had more than he ever expected to. So instead he determinedly pulled the tie free from Cat’s hair and rebraided her curly red hair so it was away from her little face. Anders had learned if he didn’t she would pull at it until it came out in clumps in her small fists.

The mage had worried that the kids would get bored, but he supposed he should have known better. The entire group had learned to sit still and entertain themselves in order to avoid unneeded attention. Even the twins, young as they were, seemed to have learned it, sitting quietly with them at the table and watching them play with curious eyes. Tanner, Rosalyn and Bree had settled on the open stretch of floor a little away from the table, talking quietly amongst themselves as they played some game they had created with pebbles Tanner had produced from his pocket. Raelnor had sat with them at the table at Hawke’s merry invitation for him to join the game.

Anders had thought the entire walk over that he should bring something for them to do but he didn’t have anything. At the clinic they normally chased each other around or played games together but unlike other children they didn’t get loud or unruly without his attention on them really. The older of the kids had become quite adept at entertaining their younger siblings when no adults were around to mind the toddlers, and with them occupied were happy to sit quietly together all evening.

In the end they hadn’t even made it through an entire round before it clearly bothered Varric too much to continue. He laid his cards down despite it being his turn and stood up.

“Y’know, I got a cousin who owns a toy shop, I’m sure I’ve got some of his stuff around here,” he had said.

To anyone who didn’t know him, it would have been a convincing lie but Anders knew there wasn’t a single member of Varric’s family with any such business. The lie was confirmed with how quickly the rogue located the box of toys he presented to the children to go through. Raelnor was watching him with the same puzzled face he used to direct at Anders; bafflement at someone doing them a kindness with no expectation of anything in return.

Bree, the sweetheart that she was, had brought over a small selection of toys for the twins to choose from, showing first Cat then Cahir the ones she had thought they would like. Cahir had latched onto a small rattle drum which he clumsily waved until Fenris gently corrected his grip and showed him how to roll it between his palms to make the small beads hit the drum more consistently. Cat’s choice had been a carved wooden horse with wings and little wheels attached to its hooves. As she rolled it back and forth on the table in front of him, Anders resigned himself to picking it up a thousand times throughout the night as she lost her grip on it. Once content that the twins had gotten something as well, Bree returned to Tanner and Rosalyn. The dwarven boy was showing Rosalyn how to make the top spin with a practiced hand, and gave a proud grin when the girls exclaimed at how long he got it to spin.

Pleased with himself, Varric retook his seat and took his turn. He shrugged his shoulders amicably at Anders’ knowing look without a hint of shame. The healer wasn’t going to complain; he knew the kids needed toys, they just weren’t expenses he could afford. Technically he couldn’t afford to feed himself and seven kids but he was making it work. Mostly.

“So, you had any luck?” Hawke asked Raelnor, who had been sullenly studying his cards.

Raelnor had been moody and temperamental since he had lost his job at the docks. Burgess had been upset that Fenris had interrupted the fights. He had even accused Raelnor of setting him up since someone had massively outbid him at the last moment before the fights and took the entire betting pool in result.

Raelnor had pointed out that he didn’t exactly have the money to place a big enough bet to more than double Burgess’ bet, which was what it would have taken for the mystery gambler to take all the winnings from the betting rather than just a portion. He had bit his tongue to avoid mentioning that without Burgess setting the rule of the whole pot going to the top bet if it was more than twice the second highest bet to benefit himself, he wouldn’t have lost everything. Of course, he had been correct but it hadn’t helped him keep his job.

Anders couldn’t blame his sour mood- Raelnor had spent years knowing he had to make money for any of them to survive, the only one besides Delilah remotely old enough to work a regular job.  Every person that turned him away was a personal failure to Raelnor, no matter how Anders told him they would figure it out. The assurance that there were people around now who would make sure the kids didn’t starve only served to make the teenager complain of feeling useless, like deadweight.

Anders mourned the childhood the boy had clearly given up in favor of caring for the younger children. He wished he could tell Raelnor not to worry about money or finding another job even as he knew logically they needed the extra income for food and necessities for the kids.

“Nothing yet. The only place willing to hire Fereldans, much less one as young as me, is the Bone Pit-”

“I would rather pay to not have to go there,” Varric said.

“Bad news, that place,” Isabela agreed.

“Yeah, don’t take that,” Hawke told him.

“But my overbearing mum told me I would not be working there under any circumstances,” Raelnor finished. He scowled at his hand of cards and set it down face up to show he was folding.

“Yes I did,” Anders told him. “I would rather you not be turned into mincemeat by giant spiders or blighted dragons, Rae,” he began, which the boy waved away dismissively. It was an argument they had revisited a few times since the subject came up.

“Yeah, yeah, like I said mum here said I couldn’t take that one so I’m still looking.”

“Well, that’s good, then,” Varric told Raenor. “It would mean you can’t come to work for me. Think you can handle serving food during the day here?”

“What? You can’t seriously be offering to pay me to come run and tote for you all day.”

“Well, Norah works nights here and they’re going to start serving more meals during the day.”

“Ah, Varric, I know you basically run it but I don’t think you can just offer him a job here.”

The dwarf grinned, the kind he only wore when he was especially proud of whatever trickery he had managed. Usually when one upping petty criminals or raining fire on unsuspecting enemies with Bianca from the backlines.

“Oh, I didn’t mention? I recently came into possession of a little something that gives me a bit more say about what happens here than before.”

Oh, Anders thought, remembering the look Norah had given him earlier when he came in with the children.

“You’re the new management.”

“Aw Blondie, why did you have to steal my thunder? I wanted to deliver it all dramatically,” Varric pouted. When Anders just raised an eyebrow he chuckled and confirmed, “yeah, I’m the new management.”

“Good on you Varric!” Hawke praised.

“Now you can stop bringing it up to Aveline,” Fenris said.

“I know, she was no help.”

“You’re who out bet Burgess,” Raelnor realized.

“The bookie who he had working the fights is an old friend of mine, he was happy to tell me how much he bet and lied about who I betted for. Figured he wouldn’t give you a fair cut even if you did take the dive for him. Sorry if I caused any trouble for you, kid.”

For the first time since being fired, Raelnor’s laugh was raucous and sincere.

“He only scheduled me for that fight because he figured he would kill me. Fuck that blighted nug-”

“Rae, language,” Anders scolded, mainly because all of the younger kids would no doubt repeat what he said, all eager to emulate their older brother. He tried to ignore how Fenris stifled his chortle into his drink he had been raising to his lips.

“Sorry, mum,” Raelnor said, still beaming. Varric winked at him.

“Can you start tomorrow at noon?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good to hear, you’ve got the job, on one condition.”

Raelnor hesitated, his eyes flicking to Anders then Fenris and back to Varric.

“Which is?” he asked nervously.

“No more fighting for money.”

“Done,” Raelnor said immediately. He had already promised Anders (and a tearful Bree) the same thing the morning after his last fight.

“Alright, I’ll show you around tomorrow. Welcome aboard.”

“Anders, we found one of your kids on our patrol,” Aveline called as soon as she and Donnic arrived. Delilah waved at them meekly at the mage when she followed the guardswoman in, Donnic bringing up the rear.

“I thought you were staying at the Rose tonight?” Anders asked her.

Delilah had a bunk there along with some of the other girls where she usually stayed after her shift. She would usually come to the clinic around midmorning to spend time with the kids, taking them out into town or bringing them odds and ends she thought they needed. She had been steadfastly stubborn about not needing anything, to give to the kids instead.

“I changed my mind, was hoping you wouldn’t mind me bunking with the kids tonight. I was fine waiting at the clinic but, uh,” she floundered, and looked at the guard-captain.

“Aveline,” the redheaded woman provided kindly, smiling. “I insisted.”

“Thanks Aveline. Delilah, you can stay whenever you like,” Anders told her.

“You know how to play Wicked Grace?” Isabela asked her.

“Boy, do I.”

---

Delilah continued to stay her nights at the clinic once she was off work. Working at the Blooming Rose usually meant she crept in during the early morning hours. The first few days she looked surprised to find that Anders had waited up for her, but after a few times she seemed to grow used to it. They had established a tradition of sorts; Anders would stop working on his manifesto for the evening when she arrived and they would brew tea and discuss their days before both going to bed.

It was a nice routine, and Anders hadn’t had quite enough of those in his life. Delilah had been very polite and distant at the start, even offering to pay Anders for watching the children. He was just glad she seemed to be warming up to him.

She seemed extra tired tonight though. It was later than she normally got home and Delilah was walking favoring one leg. Anders had noticed that something seemed to be going on with her; something that had made her stop feeling safe enough to sleep at the Rose and jump at corners. He wasn’t sure it was his place to push her though. The other children had been all but officially adopted as his charges. Even Raelnor had come around.

“Sorry, healer, you didn’t have to wait up for me,” she told him softly.

“I didn’t even realize how late it was,” Anders lied. “Here, come sit down and I’ll make us some tea.”

Her smile was weak but sincere. Anders put the lid on his inkwell (improvised, a necessity with kids running around and bumping into the desk) and put his work and quill away. He gave his knee a brisk rub before he got up. From how it and his elbow ached, it was going to storm soon. Delilah watched him as he gathered the tea pot and filled it with water.

“Healer, I can do it,” she said, getting up.

Anders flapped a hand at her and continued with making tea. Rather than the normal tea he normally made, he dug out the last of the mix he had made to help with pain. It was a little bitter but it did the trick. He winced when he stepped wrong and felt the bolt of pain shoot all the way up through his hip.

“Healer,” Delilah protested but Anders was already leveraging himself to sit in his chair in front of the fire beside her, the water coming to boil hanging in the fireplace.

“How many times have I told you to just call me Anders?”

“It just feels weird,” Delilah admitted.

Anders rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. Delilah had tried to call him messere or serah at first but he had finally got her to stop doing that. Maybe one day she would refer to him by something other than a title but every step closer felt nice regardless.

“Guess you could be calling me mum instead,” Anders conceded.

Delilah giggled and glanced towards the back of the clinic where the rest of the kids were resting. Her expression was fond, if not a touch sad. She got up to get the teapot from its hook before Anders could once the water inside could be heard boiling. Delilah poured their cups with a practiced hand and set the tea in it to steep.

“Sorry if that bothers you,” she told him once she had sat back down. “Rae means it in a good way. His dad was terrible and wasn’t around much but he had his mum, even if she spent more time drinking and wailing on him than taking care of him. She’s basically his only concept of a parent, he probably never even considered calling you anything else. He just calls his dad William.”

“It doesn’t bother me. My father… wasn’t the best, usually so I understand that,” Anders admitted. He picked up his cup but didn’t drink from it, content to let its warmth leech into his hands.

“What… ah, you can tell me if it’s out of bound, but what was it like growing up?”

She asked so hesitantly that Anders found that he wanted to answer more than he wished to avoid thinking about his parents or the life he had had, all those years ago. Usually remembering it made him feel lonely and like he was twelve years old again, cut loose and thrown to the wolves.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-” Delilah began to backtrack, her dark brows furrowed.

“No, sorry, it’s fine. I’m an only child, my parents moved out of the Anderfels to a small Fereldan village when I was very young, and we had a farm there. My mother was a caring soul, and she wanted more children but couldn’t have them. My dad was from a large family that was mainly still scattered all over the Anderfels. He was… bitter a lot because he was homesick. I remember I tried to learn his native language, and called him Táta when I was younger. I thought maybe it would make it… easier. It would be something special we shared, like my ma teaching me about healing. Eventually he told me to stop calling him that and just call him father. I think I disappointed him. His only son, flamboyant and more interested in cats and my mother’s garden of herbs than anything he considered boyish. He was the one who turned me into the Templars. I guess I should have just been happy that I had evaded the Circle as long as I had.”

Anders took a sip of his tea even though it was still much too hot for his taste. It helped force down the knot in his throat even if he still felt a bit like crying. He always felt like this when discussing his father; wistful for what could have been, if Anders hadn’t been so… Anders, shamed that he had not been enough for his own father, mournful and angry in equal measures with the cold, distant man who had wanted to love him so badly. His father had been sad under it all, plagued by darkness Anders could not have understood. More than once as a child when he had gone to his father in search of affection or comfort and had been turned away. Anders had sworn he would be a better father. As he had grown, Anders realized that perhaps his own father was a sign he shouldn’t be one himself. He often drowned in his own feelings of helplessness and desolation, he didn’t want to risk a child suffering for it.

Delilah reached to him and carefully tugged one hand from his cup to fold in her own.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. For him to turn you in, Maker it’s awful,” she whispered. “I was lucky in some ways I think, since I never knew who my da was. I was just another brothel brat, and all the girls looked after all of us kids as their own.”

“Is that how you and the kids found each other?”

She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Our village avoided the worst of the blight, it was kind of out of the way, but a horde of Darkspawn were pushing in. The… Andraste, some of the villagers got the idea that if they locked the gate from the alienage to the rest of the city and set it on fire, everyone running out the other gate onto the road into the village would draw the Darkspawn that way and they could defend the village.”

“Did it work?”

“I didn’t stick around to find out. I just remember seeing some of the kids running and jumped the gate. Raelnor and I grew up together and he followed me over when he saw me go. We saved what kids we could and ran. Bree and Rosalyn ended up staying with us, we were going to get them to safety but that… didn’t end up happening. We met Tanner when we were passing through Denerim. He asked for help because he didn’t know where to get milk that was safe for babies to drink. The twins had been abandoned outside the local chantry with a note that just had their names. But the chantry didn’t have space for babies or the resources, especially after how hard the blight had hit them and Tanner… he refused to leave the twins even when everyone else in his travelling party moved on. They told him they didn’t have the money to take care of them so he stayed and did it, as best as he could. His parents were killed by Darkspawn, he ended up with other refugees from his village. In the end, we wound up on a boat here looking for some of the people he had been travelling with who said they were coming to Kirkwall but we never found them. Everything else is kinda history I guess,” she shrugged. “I know a lot of people think I’m stupid for staying here and taking care of them but I couldn’t just leave them. We’re a family now, after everything.”

Anders smiled and squeezed her hand. “Yes, you are a family. All those who think you’re stupid are the dumb ones. It’s admirable to do for others with no ulterior motive. You have a good heart, Delilah.”

She blushed and looked away from him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything other than how little they were. Bree was so small then. I mean, she’s still small but she was tiny. I picked her up and she weighed basically nothing. I just… couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I wasn’t trying to be a good person, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to them.”

“Because you’re a good person, sweetheart,” Anders told her.

She smiled some to herself before carefully pulling her hand back and taking to her own tea. They finished their drinks together, the silence comfortable and contemplative. The warmth from the tea seemed to fill him at his core and slowly the pain ebbed away. He hadn’t even realized the heat of the fire on his skin and the familiar hissing crackle had lulled him into a light doze until he felt Delilah’s lips touch his forehead.

“Night, ta, thank you,” she murmured before creeping away.

He listened to her as she got things settled before slipping back into their sectioned off sleeping area, a smile he couldn’t fight off gracing his face. The healer had planned to get up and bank the fire before turning in for the night himself. Instead when he awoke it was the Cat squealing in joy the next morning. Someone had covered him with a blanket and couldn’t even be upset about being woken up when Tanner was so apologetic about it. His kids were worth more than any amount of missed sleep.

---

It was inevitable that Hawke would need him for an overnight trip. She had agreed to look into demons that were coming from one of the caves near where the Sabrae clan had set up. With how long of a trek it was, they had never managed to make it back before nightfall and always had to make camp along the path back. But Hawke wanted a healer along with them and Anders needed some of the rarer herbs that only flourished on Sundermount.

Of course, that didn’t make it any easier to leave the children. He had given Rosalyn the key to the clinic so they could lock up if they left and had told them where to leave it when they went to bed so Delilah could get in. He had asked Varric to check on them and even accepted Aveline’s offer for Donnic to swing by during his patrol to make sure they were alright as well. He had made sure Tanner and Rosalyn knew where they kept the extra coin stashed in case they needed it. None of it eased the anxiety of leaving them to fend for themselves without him.

“Go, ta, we got it,” Tanner had assured him when he mentioned telling Hawke he would send her with extra healing potions, that he just couldn’t go overnight. He considered asking about the new nickname the kids (except Raelnor) had adopted for him but let it slide. At least they had stopped just calling him healer.

Varric knocked on Fenris’ door in the late afternoon. When he first saw Varric waiting for him his heart had rabbitted in his chest, sure that something was wrong. He couldn’t think of another reason for the rogue to come calling for him when Hawke was out of town for the night.

“What’s happened?” he asked immediately.

Varric chortled at him and raised his hands in a soothing gesture.

“Calm down Broody, there’s no fire. I just figured since I’m going to check on your children you should come along,” the dwarf cajoled.

“They’re not my children, they’re the mage’s children,” Fenris answered, but stepped out of the mansion to follow him regardless. He hadn’t even considered the logistics of where the children would be while Anders was away. Just another reason they weren’t his children; he wasn’t suited to looking after others.

“Whatever you say, elf.”

Fenris had expected they would go to the clinic and find the children inside, or perhaps playing on the landing just in front of it as they often did. They met Donnic coming down from Lowtown, apparently given the same task as them by his wife. The man didn’t look too put out by it though, laughing and joking with them as they made their way through the slums.

Rather than the sound of Rosalyn’s distinct tinkling laughter or Bree shouting or even one of the twin’s excited baby talk, there was the sound of a child crying. Fenris heard it first and took off in a run, hearing Varric’s surprised shout at his sudden departure and the clattering of Donnic’s armor as he hurried to catch up.

When he rounded the corner, his heart calmed some to see all five of the younger children sitting against the wall just outside the clinic’s doors. Rosalyn’s face was buried in her knees as she wailed, Tanner rubbing her back with a contrite expression.

Cahir was the first to notice Fenris approaching and called out, “Da!” to him excitedly just as Donnic and Varric rounded the corner. Varric complained about how fast he was when they caught, practically panting. Fenris made a note to tease the dwarf about being out of shape later.

Once he knew what was wrong with his kids. The mage’s kids, he meant.

“What’s wrong?” Fenris asked Rosalyn when she looked up at him with wet eyes.

Her face scrunched up again before she could speak and she let out a small hiccuping sob. The warrior found himself wrong footed and unsure how to proceed; danger and fighting were more his forte, crying girls and children not so much. He wasn’t sure what to say to calm her but clearly she was upset and needed something. Fenris would have given her anything to wipe away her devastated expression.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “Tell me what has happened and I will do what I can to rectify it.”

“T-the healer gave me the k-key to hold onto but I lost,” she choked out before sniffling miserably. “It’s his only one, he’s going to be so mad. He told me he was giving it to me because he t-trusted me with it and-” she sobbed again.

“Well that’s not the end of the world, sweetheart,” Donnic told her.

Rosalyn looked up at the guardsman.

“B-but I lost it, and…”

“No one’s hurt or dying, the sky isn’t falling, the clinic isn’t on fire, and all of you are together,” Donnic told her in a calm voice. He knelt and ruffled her hair.

“If you know about where you lost it we can ask around and see if anyone found it, if not we can retrace your steps and look for it,” Fenris offered when she looked at him.

“Even if someone did pick it up they would have no way to know which door in the city it opened,” Varric agreed. “Not to mention I can just pick the lock to let you in and replace the lock.”

“Oh! We know right where it is we just can’t… uh… get to it,” Bree told them. “You’ll help us, right da?”

Fenris looked to Varric and Donnic, unsure who the girl was addressing only to find them both aiming what Fenris could only describe as shit-eating grins at him. Oh, she means me, he recognized. Looked like he would probably be best keeping his taunts about Varric’s stamina to himself for a bit.

"Yes, we'll help you," he told Bree, already resigned to his fate.

“How ?”

Fenris felt a little bad for his incredulous tone when Rosalyn hiccuped and sniffled behind him but really how she had managed to drop the key where she had eluded Fenris. Over a wall and down the side of the steep rock Kirkwall was built into and on top of, of all things. The kids hadn’t been wrong; they had taken them straight to the key. It taunted them from a jutting section of wall built out to take the brunt of the waves that crashed against Kirkwall’s walls. Occasionally the light winked off it whenever the clouds weren’t hiding the slowly setting sun.

“Cahir saw a bird,” she offered meekly.

All three of the adults stepped away from the low wall they had been leaning over to peer down at the key to turn and look at her more fully. Ironically they were within eyesight of the clinic’s door still.

“Cahir… saw a bird…” Fenris repeated slowly, feeling his eyebrow raise in question against his will.

“He’s been fussy all day and didn’t want to be carried, but if we let him down he ran off. There was a bird here, and he saw it and tried to grab it. Tanner was holding him but he was so wriggly that when he jumped Tanner couldn’t catch him. I did but I forgot… I forgot I was holding the key and it flew out of my hand. I just panicked! I… the spikes, and no one else was close- I had-”

“I see,” Fenris said, nodding. “Things happen, we will figure it out. Cahir is more important than the key,” and he didn’t even want to imagine the boy managing to land on the rusty spikes that lined the outer half walls of Darktown’s walkways.

“Told you,” Tanner told her, “Cahir would have gotten really hurt, I knew they would listen and not be mad, Ros.”

“No, you didn’t, you just said we might as well tell the truth because they would find out.”

“Shh,” the dwarven boy said but wouldn’t look at any of them. “You could have told them I dropped it, I told you.”

“No one’s in trouble,” Fenris assured. “We just have to find a way to get the key now, alright?”

They weren’t going to be able to get the key. It was too far down with no real path to get to it. The three men had stood for a long time discussing ways of getting it before they had given up on the idea. They had discussed trying to hook with something or even getting a boat and going at it from the water. In the end, none of their ideas got them any closer to the elusive key. They had nothing that they would use with any accuracy to snag it and pull it back up, and any boat they would have been smashed agaisnt the rocks around the outcropping of rocks. Their plan of picking the lock itself and simply replacing it was dashed too as one by one Varric broke every lockpick he had in it, growling and cursing the entire time.

“If we got some rope one of us could rappel down to it,” Varric suggested.

“Are you going to go down after it?”

“I know us dwarves are small but we’re dense. There’s no way I would get down without falling, not to mention back up. Donnic? Dashing rescues are supposed to be your thing, just pop on down and grab the key.”

“I’m in full plate armor, I’m pretty sure the rope would snap if I tried. Fenris could go, he’s the lightest of us.”

“I’m able to pass through solid objects, not scale vertical walls,” Fenris informed them drolly when both the rogue and the guardsman looked to him. They stood in silence for a moment and Fenris glanced back at the clinic door. “I can kick that door down though.”

Varric considered it for a moment, tapping his index finger on his chin contemplatively.

“I got a guy that can replace it today,” he agreed.

Donnic perked up. “We have spare locks at the Keep we can install. They’re replacements for the ones on the main entrance to the Keep, so they’re sturdy. And come with more than one key.”

“Okay, so new plan,” Varric said and clapped his hands before giving out orders.

The new door looked almost too nice as it set into its new frame, out of place in dingy Darktown, but there was no questioning it was sturdy. Much more secure than the one Anders had had previous, and could be locked from the inside instead of just the outside, unlike its predecessor. To lock up for the night, Anders had rigged some kind of bar and chain across the door from the inside.

“Sorry about all the trouble,” Rosalyn told them all over dinner. Donnic had left to finish his patrol after helping them install the new lock but had returned for supper and had even brought sweets back for the children to have for dessert. They had all been ecstatic when presented with them, something Fenris made a note to bring them more of.

“We’ve been harping Blondie to change that door for months,” Varric dismissed, “really I should be thanking you for giving me a reason to just take care of it.”

Rosalyn smiled some down at her food and allowed Bree to pull her into whatever the kids were discussing so seriously. Fenris half listened to them, mainly happy that they were all at ease again and there were no more tears.

“Oh, were you two there when Aveline said something to Isabela about the dinner party? She was pretty hurt about her not coming and said she told her about it but I’m not sure I believe her. You know Ave,” Donnic asked them once it was clear the children were absorbed in their own discussion.

Varric snorted. “Oh man were we. Your wife can be ruthless, told Bela that if you two ever had kids together who asked what a slattern was, she’d just point at her and tell them ‘that’s a slattern.’ In the middle of Hightown.”

Donnic’s laugh was startled and boomed out of him.

“Yeah, that sounds like her,” he agreed.

“What’s a slattern?” Bree asked innocently, her head cocked to the side.

“Uh, nothing you need to worry about,” Varric said at the same time Donnic said “you’ll find out when you’re older.”

Both answers just made Bree pout but she dropped it anyway. Fenris hoped she didn’t ask Anders about the word later, as the mage had been persistent about them not cussing around the children. Evidently hearing Tanner call something “absolute blighted nugshit” had been a bit of a wake up call to how much they listened and repeated what the adults said.

After dinner, Varric had said his goodbyes and mentioned he would send Raelnor home with his own key once he got back to the Hanged Man. The boy had been enjoying his new job, especially since he got tips on top of his hourly wages. Donnic mentioned that he had to get home to clean before Aveline got back the next day. Before long it was just Fenris and the children. The elf was tidying up the clinic and trying to convince himself to leave for the night as well when Bree tugged on his shirt.

“Will you stay tonight, da?” she asked him. He wanted to dissuade her from calling him that but couldn’t bear to say anything when she was looking at him with wide earnest eyes. “Please?”

“Yes, fine, but you need to start getting ready for bed. It’s getting late.”

“Okay but you have to tuck me in!”

Bree grinned and scurried away to do as he said without waiting for an answer. Fenris sighed and surveyed the cots available to sleep on for the night. He supposed he should have guessed that he wouldn’t have the heart to return the mansion and leave them alone for the evening. He was just starting to put bedding on one when Raelnor came in and regarding him with a confused face.

“Just sleep in mum’s bed, it’s not like he’ll mind,” he had told Fenris, “those cots are tiny, you’ll never sleep on ‘em comfortably.”

“Da! I’m ready for bed, come tuck me in?” Bree interrupted. She tugged at his hand and Fenris followed her back to the children’s makeshift room, Raelnor’s chuckle following him as the teenager sat at their little table with his own dinner.

Rosalyn was sitting on the edge of the twins’ cot with a book open in her hands. She looked at him in surprise when he came in.

“Da’s tucking us in tonight,” Bree informed them and clambered into her own cot.

“Oh, did you want to read to us then?” Rosalyn offered, and held out the book. It looked well worn with it’s yellowing pages and cracked spine.

“Sorry, I can’t,” he told her.

“O-oh, right, sorry. We’re not your kids, um, everyone say goodnight and thank you,” she said even as her little voice wobbled with tears at being turned away. Fenris laid a hand on her skinny shoulder even as he refused to look at any of them.

“I wouldn’t mind reading to you, I just… can’t. I can’t read,” he admitted, something he had taken pains for even his friends to not know coming out easy when he knew it would comfort the girl. “I will stay and listen though, and I believe I did promise to tuck everyone in.”

He settled down in the rickety chair that was undoubtedly there for Anders to sit in and read to them nightly. Fenris wondered what he sounded like, reading to the children every night. With his expressive face and array of voices, Fenris imagined Anders was a good storyteller for children’s stories.

Rosalyn read a chapter to them from the book, something about a princess escaping a curse from what Fenris caught. The twins were asleep by the end of the first page, and when Rosalyn softly closed the book Fenris looked around and realized that all of the younger kids were out like lights. He tugged Bree’s blanket up to her chin, tucked Tanner’s more firmly around his feet and made sure the twins were not at risk of rolling out of their bed in the middle of the night while Rosalyn extinguished their lantern.

“I can teach you,” Rosalyn whispered to him as she got into her own bed, the book safely put away with a small collection of other books and toys shoved into the corner. “How to read, I mean. I used to teach the kids in the alienage, and some of their parents too. If you want, it’s okay if not, you may want someone else to teach you or-”

“Ros,” Fenris said to get her attention. He knelt beside her cot and brushed her hair back from her worried face. “That sounds very nice, thank you. I would love for you to teach me.”

If I am teachable, Fenris bit back. Rosalyn smiled at him and laid down. He settled her blanket around her shoulders and smoothed her hair back before standing and sliding out from behind the curtain.

Raelnor had put away the bedding he had set out on the cot and jerked his thumb at the door to Anders’ cupboard of a room. He didn’t go back to his cot with his siblings until Fenris had slipped into it and abandoned the thought of sleeping out on the cot.

“What happened ?” Anders asked as soon as he saw the new door the next day.

“Cahir saw a bird,” Bree told him sagely. Around her the other children nodded with serious expressions on their little faces and Anders could only sigh. At least the clinic was cleaner than it was when he left, he supposed.

(leave kudos and comments here please ♥)

[sun-summoning]

Summary: When Marinette’s plant shelf breaks, Adrien comes to the rescue. (Inspired by this tweet.)

Adrien only sees one problem here: he doesn’t think asking any of his father’s staff for power tools is going to go particularly well. Plagg, on the other hand, sees multiple other problems here.

“Beyond the fact that you aren’t even remotely handy--”

“I can be handy!”

“--you also don’t know how to use those tools--”

“Everything is on the internet nowadays.”

“--and you really don’t have the time for this project.”

“I’ll make time.”

Plagg sighs deeply. Normally he doesn’t have to play the voice of reason, but somehow Adrien got it into his head that he was the one who needed to help his friend after the plant stand on her balcony broke. Marinette had moped about it to Alya earlier that day, which immediately had Adrien looking up how to make one himself. 

It would be the perfect gift for the perfect friend. 

“I realize you’re against leaving dead birds on her pillow, but isn’t this going a step too far for your crush?”

Adrien’s cheeks turn pink. “Plagg, I’ve already told you dozens of times -- Marinette is just a friend.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you know you can just buy one, right?” Plagg throws Adrien’s phone at him. “You can save the staff the headache of your hammering.”

“I can’t just buy one,” Adrien scoffs.

“She bought her first one.”

“Yeah, for herself. This is a gift from me.”

“Gifts are generally purchased.”

“Not with Marinette.” Adrien shakes his head. Positioned conveniently by the window, he leans against the panel and stares outside wistfully. The light hits him just so, making him look as lovesick as he denies being. And then to complete the entire picture, he sighs. 

Honestly, Plagg kind of wants to throw up. 

“Marinette always makes her gifts.”

“Marinette is also skilled in her craft.”

“Plagg, I’ll be fine,” Adrien assures him. “I’ve got this.”

-

So maybe Adrien did not have this. Not entirely. Not yet.

After deciding it would be best to leave power tool procurement out of any conversation he might have with Nathalie, he heads to the hardware store. He needs to get wood, a saw, a screwdriver, some screws, sandpaper, and some other things he wrote down on a list.

Eventually an employee with a kind smile comes to help him. “You look a bit lost,” the man comments.

Adrien tries not to look too bashful. “Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe I can help you?”

Adrien nods eagerly and hands the man his list. 

“I’m building a plant shelf.” He takes out his phone to show a photo of what he’s trying to accomplish.

“That’s quite the project you have there.” The man notices Adrien’s nervous grin so he pats his shoulder reassuringly. “Why don’t we gather all the supplies then?”

The man walks with him through the aisles and suggests which items Adrien should get. He asks what kinds of tools Adrien already has, but Adrien decides to just get everything new. Maybe there’s a drill or a some screws somewhere in the house, but he really doesn’t know where to look or who to ask. 

His shopping cart is mostly full when they get to the last item on Adrien’s list: paint.

“Do you have a colour in mind?”

“She likes pink,” Adrien says. “Do you have pink paint?”

“We have plenty of pink.” The man brings him to a wall of paint swatches. He chuckles when Adrien gawks at them, clearly overwhelmed. “Why don’t you take a few for now and think it over? You still need to build everything before painting.”

“That’s true.”

“And maybe you can consult the lady herself for her paint preference?”

Adrien shakes his head. “This is a surprise.”

The man smiles. “Then I’m sure your girlfriend will love it.”

Adrien promptly chokes on his own spit as he sputters out that Marinette is just a friend. In his pocket, he’s certain Plagg is laughing. 

-

Since his foosball table is the right height, Adrien decides to clamp a plank of wood to it and saw from there. 

He dons one of his older t-shirts and a pair of googles because safety is key. Then he gets to work. At first the circular saw makes him anxious. But a few levels to Marinette’s plant stand later, he feels confident. So confident that he’s humming a tune while working on the next part.

“Adrien, what are you doing?”

Apparently he hadn’t heard the door open over the sound of the circular saw. He turns the saw off and sets it down. Pushing his safety goggles into his bangs, he musters as innocent a smile as he’s capable of. If he’s learned nothing from his father’s unique brand of parenting, it’s that it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission (largely because both yield the same results).

“I’m building a plant stand.” Then he pauses. “Plant ladder. Or plant shelf? Honestly, they all same the same purpose. This is going to look more like stairs when I’m done so plant...stairs?”

“Why are you building this plant--” Nathalie gestures at the pieces of wood sprawled out on the floor, “--thing?”

“Marinette’s broke.”

“And?”

Adrien shifts his stance, deciding to go for dumb rather than repentant. Repentant would mean he actually felt bad, whereas Adrien is actually really enjoying himself. “It’s...broken?”

Nathalie’s lips thin. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re building this.”

“It’s a gift.”

“And?”

“It’s...from me?”

“Why can’t you just buy one?”

“Why does everyone keep asking that?” Adrien mutters. 

Nathalie looks down at her tablet. “Your driver can take you to a furniture store to purchase one after your photoshoot tomorrow.”

“No thanks.” Adrien picks up the circular saw because Nathalie never explicitly told him to stop. He grins, but with a power tool in his hand, he probably looks a little bit silly. “I’ve got this.”

A muffled snort comes from his pocket.

“I do.”

-

Adrien is comparing swatches of paint with utmost concentration when Nino and Alya decide to join him. Alya mentions something new on the Ladyblog, and while normally Adrien is the quickest to contribute to any conversation regarding his lady, right now he’s trying to make a decision between Romantica and August Sunrise. 

“Okay, what are you doing?” Alya glances at the rest of the other eight swatches he’s considering. 

“That’s a lot of pink buddy,” Nino says.

“I know.” Adrien drops the two in his hands so he can pull at his hair. “This is so stressful.”

“Are you, uh, repainting your room or something?”

“Huh?”

Nino nods towards the swatches. “Trying to pick a new colour?”

Adrien snorts. “As if I’d be allowed to change anything.”

“Then what are these for?” Alya asks.

“Uh.” 

Adrien bites his lip as he looks around wildly. So far none of their mutual friends know about his little side project, and he really wants this to stay a surprise for Marinette. He knows Nino will keep this secret to himself, but he’s not totally sure about Alya. Then again, it’s not like he a choice right now. Alya leans in, a curious gleam in her eyes.

“I’m building something,” Adrien offers.

“What is it?”

“A plant stand.”

“I didn’t know you liked plants,” Nino says. “My mom has tons of aloe she’s always trying to give to other people. I’ll bring you one--”

“No!” They both look perplexed by his denial. Adrien swallows. He glances around once again to be safe. “It’s for Marinette.”

“Marinette?” Nino echoes.

“Marinette.” Alya leans back, a contemplative expression on her face. Finally, she smiles. “She told you that her old one broke?”

“Er, not really.” Adrien rubs the back of his neck. “I kind of overheard the two of you and she seemed really upset, so I...”

“You thought you’d replace it for her?”

He nods.

“That’s really sweet, Adrien.” Alya grins. “Marinette’s going to love it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But that doesn’t explain the swatches,” Nino says. He still looks confused. “Unless, wait--” His eyes widen. “Are you making it?”

Adrien frowns. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“Why can’t you just buy one?”

Adrien is starting to resent that question. He grumbles as such and crosses his arms. “Why can’t you just believe in me?”

Nino snorts. “Adrien, you’re so scrawny I can’t even imagine you picking up the wood.”

Alya bites back a giggle while Adrien makes a noise of indignation.

As usual, Plagg is quietly laughing at him too.

-

“Hey Marinette!” Adrien greets in the morning. She’s in the middle of stuffing nearly half a croissant in her mouth, so she chokes when she notices him there. He waves a hand, telling her to just finish, so she chews vigorously and swallows and then grins at him. “You’re here early.”

She laughs. “I decided it’s easier if I wake up early to work on my commissions and then go to class, rather than stay up late and tell myself I can wake up in the morning just fine.”

“Do you have a lot of commissions right now?”

Marinette nods. “Yeah.” Then she sighs. “I broke my old plant stand and wanted to replace it.”

His research showed him you could get some stands for cheap and that there were a lot of DIY methods on the internet. But from all the times he visited her balcony as Chat Noir not at all for treats and pets, he remembers hers to have been white and wooden and with intricate carvings along its edges. 

“What happened to it?” he wonders.

Marinette is quick to flush. Her cheeks are visibly pink when she looks down. “I, uh, fell on it.”

“Huh?” Adrien remembers that it was mostly against the wall right beside her chair. Personally, he’s also almost fallen on it, all those times he tried to land directly on her chair and narrowly missed crashing into all her plants instead. “How?”

“That’s really not the point. The point is it broke, okay?”

She sounds embarrassed, so Adrien backs off. Marinette always calls herself a klutz and he’d hate to make her feel worse.

“Do you have a new stand in mind?” he asks to steer away from that sore spot.

Marinette nods. “I do!” 

They still have a few minutes until class starts, so she pulls out her phone and goes to her screenshots. She swipes through a few versions, some ladder-like, some closer to bookshelves, and some that look like step stools. Her favourite one is painted a lovely dusty rose.

-

That evening, Adrien proceeds to assemble the pieces of wood he finished cutting and lightly sanding. He’ll do the rest of the sanding later on. For now, he balances and drills and uses the levelling tool to make sure the shelves are actually something akin to straight. When he finishes drilling in the last screw, he steps back and grins.

Plagg assesses his work with a shrug. “Not bad,” he says. “You actually did well.” 

“Why does no one think I can do this?” Adrien grumbles. “Fine, I’m not particularly handy, but I know how to use my hands for things! I can play piano! And fence! And speak, like, three other languages--”

“Kid, you don’t know Japanese. You’re just reading subtitles.”

“--and okay, that has nothing to do with my hands. What was I saying?”

Plagg plops down onto one shelf, eyes closed and body languid. He soon zips up though when the entire thing wobbles.

“Dammit!” Adrien shouts. 

“Huh.” Plagg hovers over Adrien’s shoulder as he steadies it. 

“This is your fault,” Adrien mutters.

“I’m not the one who can’t use a drill!”

“Look at your hands! You obviously can’t use a drill, Plagg!”

“Still not my fault?”

“I’m unlucky and it’s your fault.” Adrien throws upon his couch with all the grace of a distressed damsel. His hand rests on his forehead as he whines. “You and your ring and all the destruction and...and is that it? I can’t create things because only Ladybug can?”

“No.” Plagg floats over Adrien’s face. “You’re just bad at this.”

“Why can’t you just be on my side?!” 

After a sufficient amount of time spent wallowing in self-pity, Adrien stands back up and considers Marinette’s plant holder. Or, well, the plant holder. There’s a chance he might not bother giving this to Marinette. He pokes it lightly, resulting in a slight sway. Then he shoves it, mostly out of curiosity, and instead of wobbling, it just falls over entirely.

“Oh no!”

Adrien scrambles to stand it back up, but groans when he notices the way it leans to the left.

His door opens after the commotion. That’s not particularly surprising. Nathalie’s at the main office today which meant he could use power tools uninterrupted, but he supposes there’s only so much noise and yelling the staff can take before someone checks up on him. Soon, his bodyguard is at his side.

“I’m fine,” Adrien assures him. 

The Gorilla’s expression hardly wavers.

“This is my plant stand for Marinette. You remember her right?”

He nods.

“She’s my friend and she makes the best gifts! And I thought I’d make this for her but...”

“Where is this going?”

Adrien blinks. He didn’t expect his bodyguard to have anything to say. “Uh, her balcony.”

“Then it needs to be able to stand up to the elements.” The Gorilla picks it up like it’s nothing more than a handful of grapes. Then he starts to shake it.

“What are you--”

He sets it down soon after. “It’s not going to fall apart,” the Gorilla tells him. “Although, admittedly, it’s a bit wobbly.” 

Adrien tries not to bring his hands to his face. “Yes, I know.”

“Come,” the Gorilla says, leaving his room. Adrien barely grabs Plagg as he follows him to the car. The Gorilla drives them to the hardware store, where he directs Adrien to a package of L brackets. “Get these.”

“Okay?”

“Get some more screws as well.”

“Sure?”

“I’ll wait in the car.”

Adrien picks a set coated to look gold. That would look nicest with the dusty rose paint Alya helped him pick out. He pays for the brackets and then heads to the car. The Gorilla drives them back to the mansion. Adrien looks at him curiously and his bodyguard opens the packages of brackets and screws.

“Here.” He rests one edge on the shelf level and the other on the side. “Screw this in place to reinforce the shelves.”

“And then it won’t fall apart?”

The Gorilla’s lips twitch like he wants to smile. Instead, he shakes his head. “It was never going to fall apart,” he assures Adrien. “It just needed a bit more work.”

“Okay!”

The Gorilla holds the L brackets in place while Adrien uses his drill to get the screws in. 

He only hurts himself twice and his bodyguard once in the process.

-

A few days after building and painting, Adrien still hasn’t given the plant stand to Marinette. He feels like it’s missing something, but he just can’t put his hand on what. He’s too busy thinking to muster a decent greeting when Lila sits beside him at the library. 

Maybe he picked the wrong colour? No, Marinette wanted a pink plant stand. Maybe there were too many shelves? But Marinette had so many plants! She needed as many shelves as she could get. So then maybe his creation was too tall when it needed to be wider. If that’s the case, then he’ll just make her another one. Perhaps he can decorate it more? The plain pink is a bit boring. Maybe white borders? Or stencils! What would Marinette like? Little kittens? Leaves? Flowers?

Girls liked flowers, right?

“Do you like flowers?” he asks Lila.

Lila blinks, taken aback by his random question. Then she grins. “Of course.”

“Do all girls like flowers?” Adrien shakes his head and winces. “Sorry. No. I shouldn’t generalize.”

Lila shrugs, something he only notices because her shoulder is inching closer and closer to his, so he inches closer and closer to the opposite edge of his seat. “Were you planning on getting me flowers, Adrien?”

“No, it’s for this plant stand I’m building.” He’s awfully proud of his handiwork, so he pulls out his phone and shows Lila a photo of the mostly finished project. “It’s just kind of...plain. I was thinking maybe I could, I don’t know...put flowers on it?” 

“That’s kind of what it’s for, Adrien.”

“Right.” Adrien leans back in his chair. When he feels Lila a bit too close for comfort, he leans to the side. “What would Marinette like?” he wonders to himself.

He hears Lila inhale sharply. Glancing at her, he watches her cover that up with a look of concern. “This is for Marinette?” she asks.

Adrien nods, and because he can’t help himself, he positively beams. “I really hope she likes it.”

“Oh.” Lila makes a forlorn face. “Adrien, I don’t know how to break it to you, but Marinette already got a new plant stand.”

“What?”

Lila nods. He resents how eagerly she does so in the face of his obvious disappointment. “She was telling Juleka and Rose about it earlier. She said already filled it up perfectly. And there’s no room on her balcony for another.”

“Oh.”

Adrien looks down at his lap, completely missing Lila’s little grin. He supposes he could just scrap the gift. It wasn’t like it was Marinette’s birthday or anything. The plant stand was just to repay Marinette’s unfailing friendship. She always helped her friends without them even asking. He just wanted to do the same. The plant stand was one of those “just because” presents. Something to show Marinette that he knows she’s amazing and kind and generous and that he would give her the world if he could. Or whatever. Something like that.

Adrien sits up straight when one brain cell makes itself known. He turns to Lila. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem,” she replies slowly. “I’m sorry you wasted your time, Adrien. I’m sure there are other people that might appreciate your hard work though.”

“Nah.” Adrien shakes his head. He spots Marinette across the library and stands. He packs his bag, expertly dodging Lila when she tries to grab him. “It just means I get to buy Marinette some plants to put on it!”

“What.”

“Thanks for the idea, Lila!”

-

The thing is, Adrien knows nothing about plants. Fortunately, he has another friend that’s amazing and kind and generous who also knows a lot about plants. Ladybug is always careful about identities, but she has a habit of pointing out random plants they might see and mentioning that she has the same one in her garden. He hopes he gets to see that garden one day. And if Marinette’s plant stand turns out to be a hit, maybe he can make one for Ladybug too. 

“In addition to being my lady, you’re also a plant lady, right?” 

Ladybug snorts. “I can keep things alive, yes.”

“Great. I need to buy some plants for my friend but I have absolutely no idea what to get.”

“How many?”

“Uh.” Chat Noir starts doing some basic addition with his fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe three plants along four shelves?”

“What kind of lighting does this spot get?”

“Sun...light?”

“Direct?”

“Oh.” He nods. “Yes. I guess? It’s for a balcony.”

“That helps.”

Ladybug takes his baton from him and opens up the notepad app. She’s busy typing names of plants that thrive in direct sunlight, which these ones will inevitably get. She explains various things about those plants and their needs, but Chat Noir is mostly just thinking about how their “phones” have apps at all and how they connect to the internet. Were they hackable then? He had so many questions--

“Anyway, don’t fill the entire shelf up.”

Chat Noir blinks. Ladybug is giving him a look that tells him she knows he definitely wasn’t paying attention. When he grins sheepishly, she hands him back his baton and rolls her eyes.  

“How come?”

Ladybug smiles. “Sometimes plants get a bit too big for their pots, or they have little pups of their own that need repotting. If you get your friend some of the ones I wrote down for you, her garden will definitely be multiplying in a few months. She’s going to need the space.”

“But are you sure?”

“Why, kitty, are you doubting your lady?”

Chat Noir laughs. “I would never.”

-

As it turns out, transporting everything is difficult. There’s no way he can hand Marinette the plant shelf and the seven potted plants he selected at school, so he asks the Gorilla to bring it all with him when he picks him up later. Knowing Marinette has a student council meeting after classes end, he heads to her house where Sabine lets him in. When Tom notices him struggling awkwardly, he takes the shelf and tells Adrien to just bring up the plants.

After everything has been brought up to Marinette’s balcony, Adrien gets to work setting it up. He leans it against one wall and puts the wall brackets on Marinette’s chair so they can put them in later. As he arranges the plants he brought along with him, he notices all her other pots lined up against the rails.

Where was the new plant stand Lila mentioned?

“Really kid?” Plagg zips around with zero regard for the daylight and the people that are unlikely to see him. “She was lying.”

“What?” Adrien frowns. “Why would Lila lie?”

“I don’t know. Why do cats purr?”

“What?”

Plagg just shakes his head and floats down to Marinette’s chair. “Just let me know when we’re leaving. Or when the cheese arrives.”

Frowning, Adrien goes to retrieve Marinette’s original plants. He arranges them along the shelf he built her and mixes them among his new plants. When everything is settled, he grins. 

“Plagg, Marinette is going to love this--”

“Adrien?!”

Adrien looks down at the hatch and finds Marinette climbing out. She stares at him with wide eyes before her gaze falls onto the new set up for her plants.

“Oh, hey Marinette.” He winks. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I...what?”

He cringes. “Nothing. Hey.”

“Hello?” Marinette shakes her head. Then she laughs. “Papa said he sent you upstairs to the balcony and I ran up as fast as I could -- by any chance, did you have a look around my bedroom on your way up?”

“No?”

“Good.”

“What?”

“Nothing. So. What’s up?”

“Right.” Adrien beams at her as he gestures to the shelf. “This is for you.”

Marinette looks at the shelf like somehow she never noticed it there. Her lips part, like she’s trying to get something out but doesn’t know what. Her eyes go from comically wide before lowering. She watches him with wonder in her gaze, like she can’t comprehend a gift like this from him. He starts to fidget, worried she hates him and whatever he might want to offer him, but Marinette nods and bites her bottom lip. She continues nodding slowly, as if processing his words, and Adrien thinks her cheeks look a bit flushed.

Marinette nears the shelf and runs her fingers along the sanded and pink-painted edges. She touches the string of pearls and sniffs the jasmine. When she’s taken it all in, she turns to him with a smile.

“This is all so beautiful, Adrien.” 

Adrien rolls his eyes fondly. “You don’t have to lie to me, Marinette.” He knocks on the wood that, fortunately, no longer wobbles. “It’s not like I’m about to open my own woodworking company.”

“Wait.” Her jaw drops. “You made this?!”

Adrien nods. She continues gawking at him, making him blush. His hand finds the back of his neck and rubs at it nervously. “Er, yeah. It’s not the best, obviously, but I tried. I mean, you always make your gifts. I figured I should try doing the same--”

He grunts when Marinette pulls him into a hug. Her arms wind around his middle and after a moment, Adrien slowly puts his own on her too. She feels warm against him, and when she doesn’t seem like she’s going to let go anytime soon, Adrien rests his cheek upon her head.

“Thank you so much, Adrien.” 

She releases him, much to his dismay, and marvels at the display he created. She notices his scrawled signature on one of the shelves and runs her finger along the curves. 

“I love it.”

Looking into her eyes, Adrien wonders why he didn’t think to buy her bluebells. He promises her he’ll get them soon, but Marinette just giggles and tells him he’s done more than enough. 

[popculturebuffet]

Star Vs: Monster Bash Review or “Holy Shit Concentrated Into An Episode”

Hello everybody! I’m Jacob Mattingly and welcome back to my tom lucitor retrospective, where I go through every major apperance of everyone’s faviorite demon boy boy. In case you watch my schedule or reguarlly read this blog, and if so thank you.. especially you Kevin your a peach, you’ll know this one got pushed back two weeks because the day it was scheduled.. was the day AFTER the US Capitol Insurgency. So yeah an episode HEAVILY dealing with racisim, with a downer ending and a lot to dig into on the same day a bunch of racists stormed the captail to try and illegally keep another racist in office due to his bullshit claims the electoin was fraud, when it wasn’t he just can’t admit he lost, and their own idocy, violence and hatred was not something I could handle that day and I did some mickey mouse instead.  But while the effects of said riot are still being felt, and unlike many republicans are saying we shouldn’t just “move on” or “try to heal” because the wound needs to be properly examined so the people who carved our country open with a rusty knife can be prosecuted for it, enough time has passed that I can get back on the horse and eat that horse when it comes to this episode. Also expect new tomtrospective weekly with some exceptions till it’s done. So with the real world reasons for the delay out of the way, on with the show.  Previously on Star Vs: Star had a full subplot dealing with her super powered mewberity form, which was now golden and creating bunches of portals. While she wanted to just let it go loose on Eclipsa’s suggestoin, eventually it caused too much damage and Hekapoo was livid when Marco revealed he’d been covering for her and Star, realizing her friend was running himself ragged and ruined a friendship to help her, went to the source of all magic to fix things, metting the baby unicorns and with thier help gaining control over her form. While she does not use it given she JUST got it before this episode, it’s very relevant and makes her come off very stupid but we’ll get to that

In more directly relevant stuff, and our main event, we need to talk about Ms. Henious. Ms. Henious was introduced all the way back in Season 1 as head of St. Olga’s School for Wayward princsesses. She’s voiced by Jessica Walter, aka Malory Archer, Lucille Bluth and .. Fran Sinclair from dinosaurs?

I’ll process that later. Point is she’s a talented lady and voiced Henious perfectly. Henious ran the school as a nightmarish hellhole that stripped away princsesses indviduality when they became too much for their parents. Granted some did genuinely need to be reigned in, Pony went there and so did princess squishy a princess that tried to reinact the plot of face off despite her and star not even being the same species let alone looking remotely similar.. she also liked to say camera phone a lot despite all phones being camera phones for over a decade. 

But again like most reform schools it’s a hell hole dedicated more to beating and psyihholically tourturing the rebel or asshole out of you than actually helping so Star and Marco broke in to break out. It naturally was difficult and strenious but in the process our heroes freed the other girls and Marco became feminsest icon Princess Marco. And Marco’s possible gender fluidity, or being trans,  was well loved and while he was later said to hate the princess marco idntenity later.. I still dont’ quite buy it and feel Disney just wanted to nip any implications in the bud. Because their stupid and often non-inclusive to the queer community and have to be fought to get inclusivity in there half the time. Could’ve been clumsy writing and the writers not getting people really relating to marco possibly being gender fluid or trans, which given this season’s clumsy writing with marco in general I could buy, but i’m banking more on disney, where one executive can somehow stonewall gay representation because apparnetly one guy was the one who objected to enchanting grom fright.. and he can also go fuck himself with an old rhino’s horn. Which horn is up to you. Also we got two major hints at the future iwth her: a creepy mural star found of monsters and Henious being revealed to have cheek marks she supressed with her very own brainwashing machine. 

Our heroes revolution had uintetional side-effects as St.O’s became a party school, though it’s students actually still came back better for the moast part. Henious was thrown out, reduced to sleeping in her car with her manservant gemini and sending Rasticore, a septarian mercinary afer star.. and then carrying his arm around when he got reduced to that.. not because of star but because of a rogue gift card. We don’t have time to unpack that, so she later tried attacking one more time in season 2, in one of the single worst episodes of the series, as she attacked and Marco’s Parents, instead of being concerned about the strange woman and man and lizard man arm attacking thier children, were more concerned about.. tehir cool neighbors. which could’ve been funny but just got frustrating, especially because Marco defended himself well, pointing out while he trashed her school, and gets merchandising rights from princess marco merch, she you know, brainwashed innocent to semi innocent children and was in general horrible and his parents are only humoring her because they were both out of hte loop, which due to this being shortly before star and marco leaves amounts to nothing, and because of the stupid plot. 

So after that we got one more apperance in season 3 with her trying to expose marco as a boy to turn the princsses against him and get her school back.. but it was clearly a desperate and flimsy plan and they knew that already, and don’t care because their accepting. And again have done better without her so she gets thrown out and swore revenge on Marco, and here we are.  Finally, since returning Star’s been more active in monster rights, replacing their old batshit insane and patronizingly racist expert with Buff Frog and starting a position to get royal signatures. Obviously this dosen’t sound like the most effective way to do things but it’s both teenager accurate and not the worst plan i’ve heard from a teenager this week.. granted that’s also because I covered a teenager trying to win back her good for not a lot 23 year old boyfriend by stabbing his current girlfriend he left her for a bunch, so it’s not exactly a high bar to clear. So outside of the golden form thing, which i’ll get to in the review proper why I brought that up, that’s what’s all built up to this the mid season finale. While Stump Day DID come after this, I chose to cover it before it since it both takes place before that and feels out of place in the very story heavy episodes after it. So with that out of the way we’ll be taking a look at the full episode and Star’s horrible, no good, very bad night under the cut. 

We open at the Monster Temple, that place Ludo and Toffee were headquartered at for season 2 and the battle of mewni mini, where Star is holding a PARTY!

This.. this came up when I typed party. I don’t know why and I don’t WANT to know. I mean party is in the name.. is that a party line? Is this phone sex? No.. just no.. I don’t want dirty sweaty pigs in my phone sex.. I want Rocko like a gentlemen. 

Now THAT’S hot. And honestly with what i’ve admitted about myself at this point, can you genuinely tell if i’m joking or not?  Point is Marco and Rich Pidgeon are pitching in. Oh yeah those of you who didn’t get this far in the series, again hi kevin, might wonder wait whose that... well he’s a rich pidgeon, part of the pidgeon kingdom a kingdom of pidgeons that moved into another family’s castle, presumibly killed them, the book wasn’t specific on that and is now just a large bunch of pidgeons that don’t talk human except rich and get all creepy. They also have an excutioner which is as great a visual as you imagine. 

That and Marco tried faking singing rich singing it by shving a pien in his foot and making him sign it.. he didn’t know he was fully sapient but still. But it’s also season 3 marco. The fact he didn’t accidently burn the castle down trying to impress star and being mad when she wasn’t happy he comitted arson is an achievement. Rich apparently holds a grudge but says just kiddng.. maybe.. i’d be prepared for a pidgeon with a machete if I were Marco. Thankfully i’m not.. I mean I hate myself enough. 

Anyways the party is in full swing, as both monsters and mewmans are there. On the mewman sides are the royals we met at the Silver Bell Ball and on the monster side are a bunch of monster teens who look up to star we previously met during the Ludo arc in season 2. Pony arrives bringing a photo booth. And kelly! 

And also Johnny Blowhole...

That dolphin what showed up a few times, including in the comic and the show, like most of it’s supporting cast, just sorta forgot. Also was going to be my porn name, just in case till it ended up attached to a fictonal teenager. Did.. did not think naming a character “blowhole” through did they? 

Anyways the party is at “middle school dance” levels of awkward with the monsters and humans on other sides. Rock seems to be getting ready for a racist tyrade and singles out a yak like monster.. only to instead compliment the guy’s ripped jeans and the two compliment each other on horns... turns out the ones Rock always wear aren’t decorative but part of him due to a boating accident. Shame we never got more of this kid. that’s a good kid I tell you what.  But honestly and since the moment is right given their all in this episode.. we never get a lot of the other royals outside of tom and star PERIOD. While Penelope would show up one last time and Larry would make a cameo for the most part their just.. background filler. Even this pettitoin arc was two episodes long. Rich is BRAND new and he gets way more focus.. and even he only gets to show up again for the big “Gondor calls for aid moment” in season 4 where star summoned whoever she could get on short notice. And is the ONLY royal to besides Ponyhead. Larry has an intresting enough design but the underwater kingdom only got featured in the deep trouble tie in comic that got cut short, and he wasn’t created yet so he doesen’t even show up for it. Jagg’s is such a footnote to the creators she dosen’t ever show up after this, and finally Rock, despite being star’s COUSIN and despite his kingdom being specifically mentioned as the hardest to make sympathetic to eclipsa during her own entirely ignored arc trying to win over the other kingdoms, and despite it being where River comes from and thus possibly providing some more insight into that awesome, awesome man.. we get nothing. Hell the Cloud Kingdom of the Ponyeheads ONLY gets two visits despite being home of one of the main cast.. god I just realized Ponyhead was part of the main cast. 

So while I grapple with that, Star figures the punch is too warm and while Marco goes to get ice, she tries to remind him she can do magic and accidently puts it in your standard cartoon ice block.. and being star gets her tounge stuck. Thankfully her savior comes in the form of tom who being.. you know.. tom.. can simply melt it down and reminds her he’s been there the whole time. She’s just been a bit distracted with you know, trying to ease centuries of racial tension in a well meaning but ultimately pointless at best and risky at worst, partay. And dosen’t seem to get WHY she dosen’t want to dance.. even if they do have a REALY fucking cute moment where he leans in to kiss her, she catches him on it.. then blows a raspberry into his mouth when he does and smooches him on the cheek a bunch. 

But the whole thing leaves him as a grumpus venting to marco and boiling the punch.. though at least Marco gets to use that ice now so silver linings and all that. And when marco tries to explain he tells him he dosen’t “talk politics”

My baby boy.. i’m so disapointed in you. And Marco points out as he leaves “your a prince everything you do is political. “. Which is.. HALF true. I mean tom going to the bathroom or eating a taco or taking his grandpa fo ra walk on his leash so he dosen’t gouge anyones eyes out isn’t political.. but he’s also not wrong that being the half demon half mewman son of two royals, DOES mean tom can come off political and one previous episode which he made a cameo in even had Tom being profiled, with a shopkeep who shoed out another monster kid tried that on tom.. only to realize who he was dealing with and beg for mercy he probably only got because Tom’s trying to be a better person now. And I don’t think i’ts even malcious on tom’s part, tom isn’t the most empathetic guy. He’s nice, he’s sweet, and once he knows you he can be really thoughtful.. but as we’ve seen throughout this retrospective.. empathy is something he’s struggled with. He stalked star because he didn’t see HER side of him creeply and obessively persuing her until Marco got through to him. He missed the point of his therapy assignment, seeing it as a goal to get passed instead of hwat brian intended: for him to geninely make amends with someone he hurt. He didn’t get that while star didn’t, at the time, want to date him ignoring her would hurt her... though that on’es not on him. He’s not a bad guy at all but he’s not at all great at reading people or being selfless.

 He’s getting there, stump day showed him put stars needs before Marco’s and not out of any selfish dick measuring contest but because he knew what she wanted and what made her happy, but it’s hard to have empathy for a problem you don’t get how bad it is. To tom it’s just getting stopped once in a while and then having to glower or literally roast someone. To these monsters... it’s a life of being denied a decent standard of living, housing and being treated as a crminal and a beast just for existing. Tom has a fancy castle, loyal subjects, tons of money.. his privlage has insulated him from the real dangers of being the minority he is, of getting beaten up by the cops or arrested just for being a monster. And yes i’m using real world paralells.. but so does the end of this episode so shhh. It’s also a moral that hits home since as a white person, the last year has hit me HARD with just how much I didn’t know about the racial situation in america and how complacient i’d become. I wasn’t actively racist.. but like many americans I had the bad tendency to forget the horrible things that happpend on a daily basis to people of color in this country when it got out of the news. Privlage can blind you, and I cannot speak for if it does so for any real life minorties as i’m not touching a subject i’m not qulaified to talk on due to being super white with a ten foot pole, but I can speak for me that sometimes you just.. dont’ notice a problem unless i’ts happening to you. And while it has happened to tom it’s such a minor inconvience he probably just forgets about it and moves on. And these next two episodes with him, though we have some plot stuff to get too before we get back to Tom in feburary, are him getting his bubble popped and realizing just WHAT Star has been fighting against. And Star’s own privlage will be an issue later.. but we’llg et to that in it’s own time.  So while Tom skulks off Rich startles Marco to get him to do his kung fun hand pose “the sword hand dance” and everyone uses it to dance which Marco understandably objects to until kelly asks him to dance. Cue adorable ship tease.. again this is why i’m thrownig in the kelco episode in the next batch: because the trajectory of this relationship eeerily lines up with tom episodes. No sense avoiding the ONE other episode about the ship , especially if i’m going out of my way to cover the Meteora arc on top of it and my other 80 projects. And regular coverage. And comissions. And you get the idea it’s a lot but i’m happy to do it. 

Meanwhile we meet Slime, a friendly slime monster who introduces himself to penelope and her massive spider bite... and then drips a bit giving her the wrong impression. Thankfully.. this does not turn into the PG-Rated versoin of BLue from the heathers musical. 

No he just was offering to aloe up her spiderbite, and she’s all too happy to accept since her family never thought about it.. though as we see next season their not against it suprisingly. They are still dicks though. But not racist, though that’s a very low bar to clear and only gives them credit because mewni as a whole is pretty racist when it comes to Monsters. Point is I hate their parents but love these ship as the two share some ship tease and go downstairs.. only to get attacked.  Meanwhile, Marco’s getting a goblin dog while being watched by Henious.. who despite Gemini’s objections.. no longer cares about her cheeks as she grins sinesterly and has him play her music, some heavy metal. FORESHADOWING!

Back at the party, Star adreses her public and is all proud and blushy.. till Penelope stumbles in, covered in scars, telling the crowd something took Slime.. and both sides start blaming one another, especially since it turns out a LOT of the monsters have gone missing. So with everything she worked towards and had achieved crumbling, Star calms the crowd and says she’ll investigate. Outside Marco is getting a goblin dog with roy, and wondering why he has strawberry, who orders a strawberry.. who wants that? And then decides to get one out of curiosity which I would but i’m also fat and love strawberries so i’m not a beacon of good decisionmaking. 

So Star grabs him before he can roll that metaphorical dice and passes tom who tries to downplay her concerns and get her to go make out, thinking that’s what’s going on despite that.. making no sense, as a ton of them are missing and 6 is a bit much for polyamory.. I mean it works for some people 

But not everyone can be a majestic space grandma whose also a caterpillar. And their too young to orgy so that’s out too. Point is Tom is an idiot this time and Star RIGHTFULLY calls him out for belitting her cause, not really caring about it, or the other teens who are in danger right now from god knows what and tells him to either help or get out of the way. 

So while Tom licks his well earned wounds, Star and Marco journey into the depths and find a campsite with fresh dog eared pages indicating whoevers behind the abudictions is not only sapient, but still here... oh and it somehow gets worse as they find out WHOSE behind it. 

And a second question you might be having: Who dis. Well this is Mina Loveberry, solarian warrior, whose a legend in Mewni and was one of star’s childhood heroes who she found wondering around homeless and clearly not mentally well in the park on earth.. and then tried to conquer it, but the electoral process stopped her... I don’t know why but a half crazed maniac being defeated by due electoral process makes me feel all warm and fuzzy right now, on this specific day this is coming out late on. Hmmmm.. INTERESTING aint it? 

Point is Mina is a super powerful, super not in her right mind super warrior, who is naturlaly the kidnapper, as this episode also reveals she’s violently racist and assuemed something was up and whiel Star, who despite said cou still loves and respects her and gets she’s not well, tries to talk her down it increasingly becomes clear there’s no reasoning with her. And really with most racists.. there isn’t. Racisim isn’t something that’s rational and while some people are just indocrinated at a young age and CAN be turned around on it.. some are just so deeply up their own ass with hatred you can’t reason with them or save them. You just have to stop them. Via impeaching them, making sure they get called out and taken out of office.. or in this case using rainbows on them.  But we’ll have to wait a second as a bunch of debris falls on mina taking her out!

.. Only to reveal Henious and while Marco’s willing to fight her and her posse, Raasticore grabs star and henious hooks him up to the brainwash machine, probably planning to kill him with it while playing the music

But before she can kill or do worse to one of our heroes.. the door behind them opens up.. and reveals a child’s play room. 

And Henious.. gives up on the attack and enters, disturbing Gemini as she looks around in what’s easily one of the best scene sin the entire series: her slow walk, the way the animation follows her as it sinks in just what Metora might be.. and her picking up two dolls, the ones seen above.. her dolls to Gemini’s increasing discomfort. And while the animation is stellar and utterly moving as we slowly put the pieces together... it’s Walter’s delivery that REALLY STUNS.Gone is the harsh, unforgiving nightmarish woman we’ve known.. and instead is someone whose confused.. and remembering. Remembering WHY she has those cheek marks, remembering this was her room, her home.. and those were her parents. She remembers now.. and Mina rises to say of course she did “I knew you’d be back here one day meteora!” And as Gemini tries to refute this.. Meteora agrees with MIna, no longer henious at last freed form her deep and abusive brainwashing we’ll cover soon enough. And deeply confused. And as everyone else is deeply confused... Mina, not realizing this whole thing was covered up, again we’ll get to that soon too, spells it out for them and the audience in case you missed it. When Star asks how Eclipsa plays into any of this? “Don’t you ding dongs know anything? She’s her mamma!”  (Marco and Star stare in shock as it sinks in) Marco: “Wait HENIOUS is a princess?!”  Star: “she’s a butterfly”

Yeah quite obviously this is one of the biggest wham episodes in the entire series. In one moment we not only find out Henious is indeed a butterflfy as fans thought.. but Eclipsa’s daughter, half monster, and her entire existance raises questions of how much her family hid and if not WHO DID. I mean some of you alreayd know the answer but the rest of you can wait a week.. or a few mintues it’s hinted at soon enough. Point is Star has questions.. questions the violent racist whose pretty messed up in the head for a variety of the reasons and spent decades hunting her.. is not willing to hear out and instead prepares to smite her. While Star tries DESPERATLEY to talk her friend out of this it’s very clear Mina’s not going to listen... so Star rainbow fists her.. and prepares to face her former friend and inspiration for Meteora’s saftey and the answers she BADLY needs right now. Oh and just in case you thought “oh well the magical girl who sounds like amy sedaris can’t be that big a threat”... Yeah I didn’t mention broly for nothing. 

Mina bulked up. Meet Solarian Mina. And like the Legendary Super Sayian form from Dragon Ball.. i’ts a beserker of a form that turns the already obessive and insane Mina.. into an unstoppable rage fuled killing machine with horrifying levels of power who can beat down anyone nearbye. And unlike Broly, where he was just a one in a million fluke in both versions... Mina was PLANNED to be this. The solarian program was something Eclipsa’s mom came up with, a series of spells that slowly turn the target into a rampaging super soldier. It’s like if Nuke from marvel comics, a vietnam era version of captain america who dind’t turn out so good, was INTETIONAL; 

As you can see it removes fear.. but also the targets concisce, so Mina is incapable of empathy or being cure dof her racisim. Solaria turned her from a humble volunteer just hoping ot help and improve her station into the crazed monster star now faces.  And as the Broly comparision should make clear... yeah Star dosen’t do so good and neither does Marco. She shrugs off Star’s hits and while botht he kids and meteora escape, both just piss Mina off MORE, and put star in more danger as she’s thrown around like a ragdoll.  She then runs into tom who shows off his growht: While he was a dick up there.. unlike before where he assumed he was always the wronged party.. he realized he crossed a line and while he dosen’t know WHY he did, is still willing to apologize and presumibly talk about it. A bit clueless yes but it’s effort and his tone is sincre so it’s less “I’m apologizing for whatever I guess” bullshit and more “I genuinely don’t know wha ti did wrong please tell me so I can say sorry”.. which given how awkard tom is with people and how I pointed out his trouble relating to them over htis retrospective, is the more beliviable one.  Naturally while Star does appricate it she’s kinda busy.. and when Tom see’s what’s going on he leaps in with NO hesitation. And given how close the luictors once were and are again with the butterflies it’s doubtful he hadn’t heard of mina so he likely KNOWS what he’s going up against..a nd dosen’t care. His girlfriend needs his help and this person’s trying to hurt her. That’s all he needs to kick her ass. Or try.. unlike with the z warriors.. our heroes don’t win this one. Tom tries a really cool move i’m dubbing the onyx coffin, a black coffin with runes and chains.. that does nothing to her. She breaks out and our heroes flee and Mina causes a massive ruckuss above, and the only reasons our heros don’t die.. is that the knights and Rhombulus of the high comission arrive.  And since the high comission are going to be vastly important a refresher: The high comission were created by glossaryck, the little man who lives in stars book who used to be voiced by an asshole and next season is voiced by keith motherfucking david, to police the multiverse and it’s various issues. The four we know are Lekmet: a goat man who died last season and controlled entropy and could heal at the cost of his own life hence the death, Hekapoo, a close assiocate of marcos who controls the scissors beings use to cross dimensions and can do so herslef effortlessly, Omnitraxus Prime, a powerful and giant antler skulled being who watches space time and timelines and is voiced by Karl Weathers so...

And Rhombulus, a diamond headed he-man reject with snakes for hands becaue his dad is a well documented dickhead.. no really that’s the entire explination i the book of spells: Glossaryck turned his hands to snake to teach him the lesson i’ts hard to get through life with snake hands. He’s a gung ho guy who imprisons the wrost of the worst criminals thus his presence here as Mina clearly had a falling out with the comission and thus flees.  So while Star and Tom are given blankets afterwords and some cocoa, Tom comforts her and admits if nothing else.. he gets it now, having been finally faced with the type of horrible shit monsters have had to deal with in the past and sees why his girlfriend tried hard to help it. But Star.. realizes she can’t fix this that easy. That she dosen’t know enough and clearly ther’es even more than she ever could’ve thought possible she has ot know if she’s going to fix this.. and that it’s not an EASY problem to fix. You really CAN’T fix racisim you can just make society better, but you’ll never be rid of people like Mina. Though this arc will.. yeah in one of the more baffling decisions Mina is given this huge reindrocution, with Amy Sedaris showing that while a very funny lady and a very talented actress as bojack had previously shown off for both.. she can be FUCKING TERRIFYING. But nope, she’s just..g one outside of a cameo, gets beatne off screen and dosen’t become big bad for a season. And I get it, the metora arc needed room.. but you had a WHOLE EXTRA EPISODE to have her defeat mina. Inastead you used it for Marco Jr which amounted to almost nothing and could’ve been saved for season 4 wher eit probably woudln’t of been terrible. I”ll get to that one some day. Point is it’s bad storytelling. 

So yeah Star’s feeling lost, her family history is in flux, she got beaten badly, not horribly injrued but still lost handily, her party ruined and  she was hit with the realization her plans were overly idealistic. Well meaning sure but a party was never going to cure this. Oh and Rhombluus naturally isn’t coming clean about why the temple is off limits or what’s going on here so that dosen’t help.  And somehow.. IT STILL GETS WORSE. The Wizard Cops try to take the monsters in , profling them and not having done so and star thankfully talks them out of it but the monster kids turn down any afterparty or anything. They get she means well tbut hte moment’s over. And their not even excesivley sad.. their just.. used to the police treating them like this. Like less than human, like automatic suspects when THEY were the victims. IT’s nothing new... and god does this feel relevant as hell.

And this i where I meant Star’s privlage bites her: While not as bad as tom, it took some very harsh reality for her to see that solving racisim.. is not only nigh imposisble but not that easy. To her it was easy as a party and friendship and what’s worked before in her fairly shelted world. Advetnures or not she’s still a princess whose never experinced prejudice. In both worlds she’s in the majority. It’s probably why Marco conttoned on to monster racism in seconds during “Menipendence Day’ when Star hadn’t her whole life: to Marco, whose latix and thus dealing with all kinds of racist shit his whole life, it was easier to pick it up. He’s firmly part of his culture.. and thus probably firmly aware of the racism he faces. Star is so insulated she just dosen’t get it till it nearly beat her to death. So yeah Star’s at her lowest point, having failed to make things better, the answer to her questions being lost and not sure what’s real. Metora on the other hand as they dodge the cops.. has ascended. As Gemini calls her henious once last time.. she says that’s not her name. 

“My name is meteora”

SHe’s been dreaming the wrong dream.. and it’s long past time she woke up. 

Final Thoughts;  Monster Bash.. is one of the best episodes in the series. Unlike a lot of Seasons 3 and 4 it dosen’t suffer from lack of proper payoff, as the next few episodes deal with how the fuck any of this is happening and why the fuck any of it happened. Mina’s absence nonwithstanding.. this is one of the series best and most gripping arcs. And the swerve is great: you think i’ts Henious doing the kindappings, only for her not to be the threat again just yet. And for her to be something far more. It’s just masterful, starting iwth fun hyjinks and ending in one of the best nad most nightmarish fights in the series if not the best, watching as our heroes slowly but surely LOOSE.. and THEN it gets worse. Out and out a must watch for the series and a sad sign of what it COULD’VE been had it moved past it’s worst insitncts next season and become what i should’ve been.  Next week: We take a tom break as Eclipsa nad Mon investigate all of this and we get the SECOND biggest wham episode in the series. 

Until the next rainbow, be excellent to each other.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #313

“i’m your turbo lover  /  tell me there’s no other”

Where are you located at this moment? In my bed. What if you found out your ex was having a child with someone else? If it was Sara, I'm finding out who the fuck I'm flying up there to punch his face in. If it was Jason, I'd either faint or be in the bathroom vomiting. Or both. I can almost promise you at least one or the other while I have an absolute emotional breakdown. I'm not at the point in my recovery where I can hear that and be entirely okay. I'd be happy for any of the others. At what age do you think you'll be ready to have children? Never. When was the last time you couldn't stop laughing? Why? I don't recall. Which of your friends do your parents get along best with? I guess Girt, since he's known my mom the longest of the friends I still have. I don't know about Dad; he barely knows any of my friends seeing as I don't live with him and see him rarely. Is there anyone in your friendship group that your parents don't like? No. Can you recall the last time you were extremely disappointed? I surprisingly can't remember, even though I know it was recent. Who was the last person to un-friend you on Facebook? I don't know, it's not like I go hunting people down if I notice the number has dropped, lol. Do you know why he/she decided to un-friend you? I'm certain it would've been something political. Are there any food wrappings, boxes, containers etc. in your room? No. Do you know anyone who does have cancer? I don't think anyone who currently has it, no. I may know someone via association, but idk. What is the worst medicine you've ever taken? There are two that very strongly stand out: the first one was in middle school, and the second sometime last year. I was put on an antidepressant that made me absolutely love life in the morning, like I would practically prance through school, but come afternoon, I was a fucking demon. Mom took me off that shit so fast. Most recently, my birth control was changed to have more estrogen for some reason I can't recall (maybe it had to do with mood?? idk), and it made me... I'm just gonna say I was a ~mess~. I slammed on breaks with it so fuckin fast. Safe to say I returned to my normal pill. Has your house or where you stayed ever flooded? My childhood home came very close during Hurricane Floyd. Thankfully the water never got actually inside the house, but it was an absolute lake outside. What was the last event or special occasion you participated in? My niece's birthday was actually a couple days ago, so we celebrated at my sister's house. What do you find yourself reminiscing about the most? I'll give you one guess. Do you have a favorite pianist? No. Song you listened to last is...? I have "Turbo Lover" by Judas Priest on right now. What's the last type of cookie you ate? Uhhh I would assume chocolate chip. Do you have your own computer? I have my own laptop, and I'm possibly getting an actual computer come May?? One of my WoW friends knows the hell I've been through with this laptop, and she and her husband are getting new computers then, so she's basically pushed her husband's old one on me, lol. Apparently it works just fine, he just wants something better. I've told her again and again to make some money off of it, but she's pretty much giving me no choice lmao. I appreciate it a whole lot, though. It'd be pretty nice to separate games onto an actual, capable desktop versus making my laptop sound like it's screaming for God's mercy if I boot something up. Describe your computer chair? I don't have one. Well, there's an old one in the extra room I'm going to end up using, but all I know is it's black. I've never paid closer attention to it. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? Open. I feel too isolated with it closed. Are you going to keep your last name when you get married? God no, it's very unlikely. I hate my last name, take it away. Does it bother you when people beg? Why are they begging, and how insistently? It depends. Do you have any weird rings? I have two, but neither I consider weird, at least. Well, I suppose the one with "bitch" carved on the inside would confuse non-Supernatural fans, haha. Are you anything like your siblings? Not really, no. At least, my two immediate sisters. Mom says I'm extremely similar to her eldest daughter though and wishes we'd talk more, but yeah, I just don't have anything to talk about with her. I'm so bad at initiating conversation. When was the last time you shaved your legs? October for when I was doing that witchy photoshoot with a friend. I absolutely hate shaving my legs and pretty much only do if anyone else whose opinion would affect me may see them. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Uhhh I guess all the "upgrades" I want to make to Venus' enclosure: a 40g tank and a nice, accurate hygrometer and thermometer, as well as the proper kind of lamp for her. I feel like such a "bad snake mom" still having her in her current terrarium because, while it's perfectly liveable and not dangerous, it's too small for her. It's pretty much always on my mind to some degree nowadays, so just like, dropping the terrarium and extra tools off would be a massive weight off my shoulders. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No, but I was able to skip the intro Writing course the last time I was in college; I just started in Writing II. Who took your profile pic? Anywhere where it's a picture of myself, odds are me. I hate getting pictures taken, but if it's gonna happen, it'll be through myself, knowing my "good" angle and such, lol. Have you ever been fishing? Do you know anyone who likes fishing as a hobby? I've been fishing many times, especially as a kid with my dad. There are pleeeenty of people I know who enjoy it. I don't anymore. Do you own any cats? What color are their eyes? Yes; his are a light blue. Is there a rose bush in your garden? What color are its roses? We don't have a garden. When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Over $100 with my own cash, a plane ticket. My recent tattoo deposit was exactly a hundred. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? No; Roman would NEVER allow me to cuddle anything else, and I am not even remotely kidding. I couldn't care less if any adult does, though. Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Ew, neither, but I guess a book would be better just so my eyes weren't forever scarred. What’s your favorite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? INCENSE!!!! God, I love incense burners. I don't light it anymore though because Venus' terrarium is also in my room, and it's not good for snakes. What are the main two colors in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colors out yourself? Just... white. That's it. Well, my furniture is brown. I didn't pick either. How often do you wake up in the night needing to pee? Usually once, sometimes not at all anymore. I guess my bladder actually grew a pair. If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? As far as the physical care, me. Mom does help me do a full clean of Venus' cage sometimes, though, because I don't trust myself to both keep her around my neck while I scrub the tank, hide, bowl, etc., with a cat that is my absolute shadow. I don't want to be bent over the tub and Roman tries to do something; he's shown very little interest in Venus, but still, I'm one hell of a paranoid snake mom that doesn't want to risk her life. Full cleans only happen like twice a year, so I don't mind too much asking my mother for some help. I should point out that Mom doesn't want to hold her, so we can't reverse roles. Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Not anymore, no. At my old house and the one before, I had lots of Pyramid Head gift tags hanging, but our landlord doesn't want me to do that here. Would you describe yourself as neat, messy or somewhere in-between? I'm in-between. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them needed to go the vets? Venus had to go to the vet about a year into me having her because she was showing symptoms of an RI in strange breathing episodes, which can be fatal to a snake. Thank God, nature, whatever, that she didn't. There were warning signs, but closer watch over her humidity saved her. Roman, meanwhile, was taken to the vet like a year ago to be neutered. When the pandemic is over, what is one thing you can’t wait to do again? I barely ever left the house beforehand, so... I guess go to the movies. What’s one thing (aside from essentials) that you spend the most money on each month? Has anyone ever told you you’re obsessed or addicted with it? N/A What’s your favourite genre of TV show to watch? What’s your favourite show that’s not from that genre? If I had to pick, uhhh... yeah, idk, due to the whole "not into TV much to begin with" thing. Would you rather be employed or self-employed? Why? Self-employed, though taking care of all business matters yourself is/would suck. I just really want to be my own boss for the sake of photographing whatever I want. IIs your hair naturally curly, straight or somewhere in between? Do you wish it was different? It's straight, but on the wavy side, and I wish it wasn't. Do you ever play online games with your friends? Which one(s)? Just WoW. In the last week, have you had any alcoholic beverages? Which? No. Do you ever wear accessories in your hair? Which ones? No. Do you feel free to post your views on social media? Yep. I honestly don't care who it pisses off. What is your favorite work of historical fiction? Well, I don't really know what you consider truly "historical" in age... That, and I'm bad at dates to begin with. There are lots and lots of older books and movies I adore, though. Old Yeller is one of my favorite books ever, for one. The Boy In The Striped Pajamas makes me sob, too. What cartoon character looks like you? I remember when Hotel Transylvania came out, my ex's mob pointed out how much she thought I looked like the daughter, especially when my hair was dyed black. Do you have hope for the future? Some days I do, some days I don't. Do you believe in yourself? Ehhhh... debatable, idk. Do you have trouble letting go of your past? Oh yes. Were you happy in high school? It's funny, I was very depressed in HS, but due to Jason and friends, it's one of my most cherished time periods. Were you ever a teacher's favorite? I mean it modestly, but I was almost always pretty obviously one of the teachers' favorites. I was a good student. Are you popular? I wasn't. If you won a title in the senior class polls, what was it? I didn't. Have you ever had a medical condition that made you unable to work? My social anxiety is so debilitating that it's made it questionable. It ruined my very short-lived previous jobs. What makes your life worth living? My future goals, family, friends... What is your favorite Bible verse? I don't have one. List five careers you've considered. Paleontologist, vet, game designer, author, and wildlife biologist are all past ones. Do you have any unusual talents? If so, what? No. What do you get compliments on? My hair and my art, mostly. What have people told you you should be? I've heard "a vet" most in my life. What is holding you back? My (mostly social) anxiety and extreme fear of judgment. Do you have anyone purely evil in your life? Hell no, I wouldn't allow that person to stay in my life. Have you ever felt threatened for your life? I've felt scared for it, yes. While riding my bike once, I ran into a guy in my old neighborhood who had a criminal history, including assault, just asking what I was listening to on my iPod. I stopped because I was scared to keep going, and he wound up asking for my Facebook, but guess who didn't accept THAT friend request. List ten positive words that describe you. That's too much thinking, man. List ten negative words that [you feel] describe you. And that's too much negativity to fish in. Are you a good person or a bad person? I mean, I try to be a good one. Have you ever contemplated being a bad person? I've done bad things, but I've certainly never deliberated tried to be an overall bad person. Have you ever resorted to vandalism because you didn't have a voice? No. Have you ever egged someone's house? Wow, no. Do you want to egg someone's house? Also no because I'm a fucking adult. Have you ever seen a piece of graffiti that you are thankful for? What an odd question. I mean, no? Name three people who hurt you and didn't care. I am quite positive Colleen doesn't care about the many times she did considering she's always right. Was your first crush sexual, or no? No, I was just a kid. What would you do if you got pregnant right now? I honestly can't say I know. If I was God forbid raped, I'd probably have an abortion because I psychologically could not handle that without being scarred for life. If it was by my own stupidity, I feel I'd probably have the baby but give it up for adoption. I just can't raise a kid. Do you have a medical condition that you are embarrassed or ashamed to tell people you have? No, I don't think so. What do you get asked the most? Hm. OH, WAIT, THAT'S EASY. I get asked a lot if my lip piercing hurt. Have you ever stood up for someone else who was being bullied? I know I have before, but I don't remember the occasion. What tragic news stories that you've heard has touched you the most? Man, that's a lot to think about. You see news articles on Facebook all the time, and a whole lot of them touch me, so I dunno. What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? I like the cheese quesadillas, and whatever those cinnamon bites are called are really good. I'm still tilted they got rid of the fiesta potatoes, because I adored those. Where do you have cutting scars (if you have any)? I only ever had them on my wrist, but you can't see them anymore. Do you like cotton candy? Not very, but I mean, I can have a bite or two. It's way too sweet to eat a lot of it. What's the best piece of graffiti you've ever seen? I'm unsure, but I've definitely seen beautiful work, especially online. Do you like tattoos? "Like" is a colossal understatement. Do you like piercings? Yep yep yep. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Those are not people I hang around with. Who is the last person you slow-danced with? Slow-danced? I don't think I've done that since Jason.

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Chapter Summary:  Carapace helps Ladybug and Chat Noir build a bathroom.

Word Count:  2491 | Chapter 3/?

XXX

Carapace leaned over the back of the couch.  That made his hood-like mask slipped down over his eyes; she’d need to take his measurements and make adjustments.  Just one more thing to put on her list.  

“So. Bathrooms, huh?”

“Bathrooms.”  Marinette sighed, slumping back on the couch.  She had a notebook in her lap, but all of her ideas so far had been scratched out.  

She couldn’t Lucky Charm a toilet.  (She’d tried.)  She refused to dig a hole and just let Chat Noir Cataclysm the waste periodically.  (Ew.)  She’d even spitballed ideas with some of the kwamis, but like Plagg, none of them really understood the need for a bathroom.  Instead they just floated in front of the TV, playing Mario Kart on Chat’s Switch.

Carapace settled down on the couch next to her, sipping his Carpi Sun and watching the race. Kaalki was winning as Princess Peach, with Wayzz driving Bowser close behind.  Orikko seemed content to let Yoshi trail near the bottom of the rankings.  Xuppu as Donkey Kong was in last place, on account of him refusing to hold the remote right-side up.

“Do you have any ideas?”  She handed her notebook to Carapace.

“You don’t have to build a bathroom, y’know.  I thought it would be cool, especially if we all have a sleepover sometime, but you’ve already done a ton for us. We can deal.”  

She knew they could, but it would make her feel better to have a bathroom, too.  

(Plus, she’d aced her Physics exam last week.  It would be nice to repay Chat Noir somehow.)

“We’ve come this far.  I’m not going to give up now,” she said.

Carapace squinted down at the paper.  Flipped to the next blank page.  Flipped it back.

“Uhhhh… so what do you have ‘this far’?”

“...Pretty much nothing.  But I’m sure there’s a solution!  If I can figure out how to use a Lucky Charm every fight, I’m pretty sure I can come up with something as simple as indoor plumbing.”

“Maybe you’re thinking about it wrong.”  Carapace shut the notebook.  “You don’t write things down when you’re figuring out a Lucky Charm, right?  You just… I don’t know, it always looks like magic to me.”  He smiled sheepishly.

It wasn’t part of the miraculous magic.  It was just the way her brain worked.  But he had a point—it might help to look at this from a different angle.

“You’re right.”  

She stood, smiling at Wayzz’s laughter as the kwami crossed the finish line.  It was good for him to spend time with his friends again, which was why she’d met Carapace here this evening.  She hadn’t yet passed on the code for anyone else to open the Miracle Box.

“I’m going to need to borrow Kaalki,” she told the kwamis.

“Me?”  Kaalki frowned, pointing a hoof to her chest.  “What for?”

“I’m… not exactly sure yet,” she admitted.  Kaalki’s Voyage was definitely part of her plan, but she was still missing a few pieces.  

She scanned the room, gathering objects that caught her eye: a colander from the kitchen, the dragon choker in the open Miracle Box, the sewer map tucked behind that.  Then her yo-yo and the turtle bracelet on Nino’s wrist.  So close, but it still didn’t quite add up.

At least she had an idea of what she might need the yo-yo for.  She flipped it open and clicked on one of her few contacts.

“Bugaboo?”  Chat picked up on the first ring.  “Miss me already?”

“It sounds like you missed me, if you’re out and transformed.”  She smirked.  “Meet me at the base.  We’re putting in the bathroom.”

XXX

“I know your plans are usually pretty complicated, but are they always so…”

“Clever?  Amazing?  Inconceivable?”  Chat Noir asked while brushing off his hands.

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” Nino  said automatically, then shook his head.  “I was gonna say messy.”

“Not always.  It’s about fifty-fifty.”  Ladybug—well, Dragonbug, technically—used a broom to sweep out the black dust left over from Chat Noir’s Cataclysm.  It wasn’t enough dust to account for the huge chunk of rock that had been there.  His power must do more than just break things; it actually destroyed them.

Miraculous of destruction.  Duh.  Still, it was super cool to watch the magic up close and personal.

He could hardly believe Ladybug and Chat Noir had picked him out to hold his miraculous full-time.  Alya would’ve killed for a chance like this, and he couldn’t even tell her about it.  He kept worrying he’d accidentally let something slip, and then she’d use her nosy reporter skills to get the whole truth out of him.  

So far he’d been lucky.  Even if he almost cackled when she called “Carapace” a ninja-turtle wannabe.

“Carapace?  Are you ready?”  Dragonbug faced him.

“Huh?  Oh, yeah, of course!”

He stepped into the small room Dragonbug and Chat Noir had finished carving out.  The only thing that stood out was the cylindrical hole in the wall, just a little bit above his head.

His job was to use Shellter in the back of the indention, leaving just a fist-sized gap in the front of the spherical shield.  Luckily he’d practiced different barrier formations since Chat Noir had broken the news about his Miracle Box shield.  He still hadn’t found a useful way to protect the box, but he could make a shield with a hole in it now.

“Shellter!”  He called while plunging his fist into the hole.  Green light exploded inside, pushing the dirt and stone outwards.  The wall trembled slightly, but held.

“How’s that?”  He asked with a grin.  Dragonbug’s plan didn’t make sense to him yet, but he was sure it would be awesome.

“Perfect.”  She clapped him on the shoulder before they swapped places, her own hands inside the hole.  “Now—water dragon!”

He and Chat Noir peeked over her shoulders, trying to see what was happening.  

“You’re making a water tank,” Chat Noir realized with a grin.  “See?  What did I tell you, Cara?  Inconceivable.”

Nino just laughed.  At times like this, he felt like he wasn’t an outsider on the team.  As crazy cool as Chat Noir and Ladybug were, they weren’t larger-than-life.  They were just… dudes, like him.  There was no need to get starstruck like Rena.

Dragonbug capped the hole with the end of a plunger, her latest Lucky Charm.  Nino was just glad that hadn’t been for a toilet. 

“If I get you some measurements, Chat, can you do some math for me?  I want to know how much water this actually holds, and how many showers it should supply before we need to refill it.”

“Depends on how long your showers take, but sure.  I’ve had some physics problems like that before.”

Dragonbug used her sword to puncture a few smaller holes in the wall, then secured the colander over the top of the plunger.

“So it’s like a shower head.”  Nino nodded.  “Smart.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Carapace.”  She smiled at him.  “You were right.  I was thinking too hard, when we had everything we needed all along.”

His face warmed a bit under her praise.  “I didn’t do much.”

“It’s not always about what you do, turtle dude.”  Chat Noir slung an arm around his shoulders.  “We’re a team now.  And even though LB’s usually the brains, we all support each other.”

“Chat’s right.  Wayzz picked you for a reason, and so did we.”

It was cool that they the heroes wanted to include him, but it was hard to take them seriously when they’d all just jerry-rigged a shower together.

“Because I’d help you build a bathroom?”  He joked.  

“Come on, we were having a moment!”  Chat pulled back and playfully punched him in the arm.  “You’re supposed to be thinking wow, the amazing Chat Noir picked me!”

He cracked a grin.  “Ladybug’s right.  You’re a real drama queen, bro.”

Chat Noir gaped at his partner.  “When did you say that?”

“Most recently?  About an hour ago.  But if you meant how many times I’ve said it, I’ve already lost count.”

“You wound me, my Lady.”  He clutched his hands to his heart.  

“See?  My point exactly.”  She waved her sword at him with a smirk.

He sighed.  “Walked right into that one, didn’t I.”

“Yeah.”  Nino patted his shoulder consolingly.

“Maybe one day she’ll be the king to my drama queen,” Chat sighed again, but this time in a more lovesick sort of way.  The same way Marinette always sighed over his bro Adrien.  If Alya hadn’t expressly forbidden him from interfering in any way—and if Chat and Marinette weren’t both so hopelessly in love with their own crushes—he might’ve tried to set the two of them up on a blind date.  At least then they could both be dramatic together.

“Good luck with that, dude.”  

“Are you going to stand there sighing, or actually help me?”  Ladybug had her hands on her hips.  She’d already dismissed Longg, who flew to hover by Kaalki.

“You know I’m always at your command, my Lady.”  Chat swept his arm in a dramatic bow.  

“Show Carapace how to combine miraculouses.  He’s never done it before.”

“Me?”  Nino pointed to himself and blinked.  “I can do that too?”

“I said this base was for training purposes, didn’t I?”  Ladybug handed him the dark glasses.  “Well, consider this training.”

“What? I thought I was to transform the glorious and famous Chat Noir.”  Kaalki crossed her arms.

Chat’s eyes widened for a second before he grinned.  “You heard her.  Ready to admit how glorious I am yet?”

“In your dreams, kitty.”  Ladybug laughed before turning and crouching before the kwami.  “Please, Kaalki?  I may not know Carapace that well yet, but I know he has a good heart, and he’s always willing to protect others first.  I think that’s the most glorious thing of all, don’t you?”

Did she really think that?  He found his face warming again, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“She’s right, you know.”  Chat Noir nudged Nino with his elbow.  “You’re always running in to take hits.  You’re almost as bad as me.”

“I’ve actually got a shield, though.”  He patted the shield on his back, and Chat laughed.

“Good point.  I’ll let Ladybug throw you at the akumas next time.”

By then, Ladybug had finally convinced Kaalki to transform him.

“It’s really not hard,” the kwami said.  “All you need to do is speak my name and Wayzz’s, then say unify.  Just like Ladybug did to become Dragonbug.”

Nino had watched her combine the miraculouses before they started constructing the room. It had looked that simple, but he’d still assumed there was a trick to it.

“That’s it?  I don’t have to, I dunno, feel something in my heart?”

Chat laughed before thumping him on the back.  “You’re a funny dude, Cara.  Oh, but there is one thing she forgot to tell you—you’ve got to neigh like a horse while you transform for this one.”

“Chat!”  Ladybug smacked his arm, but he just laughed again.  “No, you don’t.  You will need to bring your hands together, though.  It allows the magic to flow through you better, so the powers mix evenly.  That’s what the Master always said, anyway.”

He nodded.  “Alright.  Wayzz, Kaalki, unify!”

He punched his fists together, and teal light crackled over him.  It tingled in a different way from the first transformation.  His turtle suit always felt warm, like putting on a comfortable blanket.  This was more like walking outside during a heat wave.  A moment of dizziness passed before he could breathe again.

“Does it always feel like that?”

“Oh.  Right.”  Ladybug smiled apologetically.  “I should’ve warned you about the heat.  It should pass in a moment.”

Sure enough, the heat faded like the dizziness had.  He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together.  The gloves of his suit were brown now instead of green; he wished he had a mirror to check out the rest of his costume.  They’d have get one for the bathroom eventually.

“Cool, cool.  Anything else I should know?”  He asked.

She went over how to use Voyage, then directed him to the spot she’d drawn out in chalk.  

Sweat beaded under his mask.  Getting the exact coordinates of a magic portal sounded a lot more complicated than throwing up a shield.  Whoever Pegasus was, he must be a real genius.

But right now they didn’t have Pegasus, and Ladybug seemed to think he could do this.  He didn’t want to disappoint her and Chat Noir.

He fixed the portal’s destination in his mind.

“You sure I can’t make this go to, I don’t know, Gabriel Agreste’s office?”  He asked with a grin.  “Y’know, as a random, nonspecific example.”

Chat Noir’s eyes widened for half a second before he doubled over laughing.  Ladybug looked mortified.

“What do you have against Gabriel Agreste?”  She asked.

“Other than that his designs are bland and unoriginal?”

“Or that he looks like he’s swallowed an onion in every photo?”  Nino added.

“Or his sour cream dollop toupée?”

“Heh, you mean tou-pee.”  

Chat Noir cackled at that, and they hi-fived.

“I’m sorry, bugaboo.  I think I’m going to have to replace you with the turtle.”

Ladybug rubbed her temples.  “I need Rena here.  This is too much idiot boy energy for me to handle.”

“You know you love us.”  Chat grinned.

Nino still couldn’t help wondering what beef Chat actually had with Adrien’s dad, but of course he couldn’t ask.  Just like he couldn’t admit that his own grudge against the candy-cane man came from how he treated Nino’s best bro.

“Alright, stand back.”  He finally shoed them away.  “I gotta get in the zone for this.”

He pictured the sewer—a real sewage plant, not the storm drain their base was connected to.  Then he punched his fist towards the floor.

“Voyage!”

A glowing portal opened up in the stone.  And it reeked.

“Smells like it worked.”  Ladybug pinched her nose.  “I’ll get the hardware set up later.  In the meantime…”

She dragged over a manhole cover that Chat had fetched for them on his way over.  It was wide enough to cover the small portal and stop the fumes from leaking out.

“I think that’s all we can do for now,” she said before holding out her fist.  “Pound it?”

Nino had shared Ladybug and Chat Noir’s post-battle tradition plenty of times before, but for some reason, this one felt as special as his first.  Maybe because it was over something so crazy.  Maybe he was getting sappy, but it felt like the heroes trusted him for more than just watching their backs in battle.

They were more than heroes, and they were more than just dudes.  They were his friends. 

He smiled at them.

“Pound it!”

[bottomlwjrights]

MO DAO ZU SHI REREAD:Thoughts™️....and Stuff

Chapter 40

“They should’ve been able to talk, to say who they were, to shout for help. However, the awful thing was that somebody had cut all of their tongues off before this.” In case i havent said it enough, i hate Xue Yang!!!!

I dont have anything funny or witty to say, this whole situation is just sad

“She instinctively hated him and refused to settle. And so, whenever Xue Yang went out night-hunting with Xiao XingChen, she’d secretly follow them. Even when they were in the same house, she didn’t lower her guard.” She lived constantly on guard for, what, years?

Nobody told xxc stories when he was a kid, which I believe to be a crime

The first disciple to leave the mountain, YanLing DaoRen, was an excellent and renowned cultivator, but suddenly became a villian for some unknown reason and died under thousands of swords, according to xxc (parallels wwx a little)

“‘The second disciple was a girl and also very outstanding.’ Wei WuXian’s chest felt warm. She was ZangSe SanRen.” 🥺

“How would an outstanding and beautiful cultivator settle on a servant. This story’s so cliche. It’s probably made up by some poor scholar.” Oh little A-Qing... (wait this mirrors lwj and wwx’s love story, except of course the death part, because in my eyes they just cultivate to immortality and live happily ever after, together forever)

Shut up, wwx, you’re not a villain

Xxc describing sl makes me uuuh wanna cry “A very good friend of mine.” “A sincere man of noble nature.”

Shut the fuck up Xue Yang, no body cares

SHUT UP XXC CARRIED A-QING TO BED THATS ADORABLE 🥺 BIG BRO XINGCHEN EVEN TUCKED HER IN

Shut up!!!! He went and got her candy!!!! And then gave her candy everyday!!!!

Sl said to A-Qing the exact same the xxc said to her, like almost word for word... hold i...

Also note that wwx said they must have been very good friends to be so much alike 

Why did he hesitate???

“Song Lan answered straight away, ‘His height is similar to mine. His appearance is rather fine. His sword is carved with patterns of frost.’” Dont ask why this drove me crazy 

Sl was looking for xxc for years....

“For some reason, Song Lan’s face was extremely pale. He stared at the door of the coffin home, as if he would rush inside if he could, but was too scared to do so.”

“The instant he heard the [xxc’s] voice, Song Lan’s hands trembled so much that A-Qing could clearly see it.”

Sl was so angry his entire body was shaking

Xy is disgusting

After the attack of Baixue temple, while injured, sl said some nasty things to xxc....sounds alot like the aftermath of Nightless City....

“Who was the one who said ‘from now on, we won’t need to meet again’? Wasn’t it you, Daozhang Song? He listened to your request and disappeared after he dug out his eyes for you, but why have you come to him now?” Shut up shut up shut up

Fuck Xue Yang!!!!

“Song Lan looked down at Shuanghua’s blade, which penetrated his heart, then slowly looked up again. He saw Xiao XingChen, who calmly held the sword.” Im gonna cry

“Slowly, Song Lan fell to his knees before Xiao XingChen.” Yup im crying

“At such a time, if Song Lan passed his sword to Xiao XingChen’s hands, Xiao XingChen would’ve immediately known who he was. He’d be able to recognize the sword of his closest friend with just a touch.” He would have known sl’s sword by just a touch....

Sl didnt pass his sword to xxc so that he didnt have to bear the burden of knowing he killed him.....

“...large drops of tears rolled from her eyes. Although she was scared, A-Qing reached out to close Song Lan’s eyes. She then kneeled in front of him and put her palms together, ‘Daozhang, please don’t blame me or the other daozhang.’”

She kowtowed in front of sl’s body....

A-Qing is smart and quick witted, pulling such a fast lie like that

“Cut a few dozens of times on her face so that she’ll never have the guts to go outside again.” 😧

How xy can say something like that and then offer up a plate of bunny shaped apple slices that he cut himself is beyond me

“Looking at the plate of cute, delicate slices, disgust filled both A-Qing’s and Wei WuXian’s hearts.” Yeah me too

(Chapter 41 & Chapter 42 below the cut)

Chapter 41

A-Qing didnt wanna tell xxc about sl...

“The blood grew more and more and eventually leaked through the bandages, trickling down from where his eyes once were.” God he’s crying ....

“Originally, the injury of his eyes would bleed whenever he had excessive thoughts or emotions, but it hadn’t recurred in quite a long while.” I hate this

“...after Xiao XingChen managed to calm down, he told A-Qing, ‘A-Qing, run away.’” I hate this so much

“I can’t go. I need to find out what exactly he’s trying to do...If I left him here alone, I’m afraid that the people of Yi City would sink into his hands.” Y’all gotta stop with this selfless,self sacrificing, being a good caring person shit man, its okay to save yourselves sometimes

“A-Qing’s sobs weren’t faked anymore. She tossed the bamboo pole to the side and clung to Xiao XingChen’s leg...”

“Xiao XingChen asked coldly, ‘Was it fun?’ Xue Yang took another bite into the apple that was still in his hand. He only replied after calmly chewing for a while and swallowing the fruit, ‘Yes. Of course it was fun.’” I hate him

Even the idea that xy did all this because he was bored...

“My finger was my own, while those lives were other peoples’. They wouldn’t be equal no matter how many lives I killed. It was only around fifty. How could it have possibly been equal to one of my fingers?” I cannot even begin to express my disgust...

This is all so sad....

“… Is that you, ZiChen?”

“Even if the two swords had just clashed, Xiao XingChen should be able to tell who the other was from only the strength of the attack...He turned around slowly and reached out a quivering hand, feeling for the blade of Song Lan’s sword.”

“… ZiChen… Daozhang Song… Daozhang Song… Is that you…?” Im crying again

And he’s crying nonstop

“… What happened…? Say something…”

“Xiao XingChen stood blankly in front of Song Lan. Putting his hands on his head, he wailed as though he was ripping his chest apart.” I cant handle this shit im about to stop reading

Fuck you, Xue Yang

“At this moment, Wei WuXian saw himself in Xiao XingChen. Him, who failed miserably as he stood drenched in blood, who couldn’t do anything except silently acknowledge the critiques and accusations, who was wholly beyond hope, who could only cry in despair!” Yeah i didnt need that in the middle of all this

“He could only whimper in pain, ‘Please. Let me go.’” Im really going through it

They all died in such horrific ways

Thank goodness thats over!!!!

Chapter 42

Wwx really implied that xy killed Chang Ping as revenge for xxc huh....wow no

Even in death, A-Qing is brave. Thank you for your contribution in ending that mf

Lwj cuts off xy’s arm when he reaches towards wwx

There was so much blood on the ground that wwx almost slipped in it, gross

Lmao i didnt think lwj would be the one to just toss a pouch to someone but here we are

Wn just squatting on the ground, chillin

Okay yanno what im still confused as hell as to why the juniors were lead to yi city...

God that makes me so angry, Xue Yang keeping the piece of candy for years and holding onto it when he died, like even the idea that he liked xxc and still decided to torture him to death good lord

“Lifting up the hem of his robes, Lan WangJi stepped over the high threshold in an elegant manner, then nodded.”  Wwx just looks at lwj do literally anything and is just like “he’s so elegant 😍 so graceful 🥰 look at my lan zhan, so pretty 🥰😍🥰”

“When he wakes, say I’m sorry, it wasn’t your fault.” Wow....

“He still wore the dark cultivation robes. Standing alone, he carried two swords, Shuanghua and Fuxue, he brought two souls, Xiao XingChen and A-Qing, and walked another path.” Wow.... i wish for you the best, Song Lan

Lsz standing and wondering if xxc and sl would ever meet again....

I agree with jl, death is too light of a punishment for xy

Lmfnck ljy cried the loudest out of everyone sjnckck

The juniors light incense and burning paper money for them 🥺 they’re so sweet

ItS nOt lIkE yOuVE DiEd HoW wOuLd YoU KnOw iF DeaD pEoPle ReCiEve PaPeR MonEY

PLEASE WATCH YOUR MOUTH JINGYI

“How come? Was I really that much of a failure? Was there not a single person who burned paper money for me? Was it really because nobody burned them that I didn’t receive any?” STOOOOOP

“Looking at his calm face, Wei WuXian thought to himself, Really? Had he really not burnt anything?!” Okay i don’t remember if he actually did or not but nonetheless this shit hurted

The hunter was probably the same person who lead them together to yi city with the corpses, BUT WHY THO

Awwww wwx happy to see Lil Apple

Stop teasing jl, wwx, its not nice

Even though the lookout towers are a good idea, and benefit smaller more remote towns, i cant help but wonder if there was some kind of ulterior motive behind them

“Almost all of the dishes were covered in red. Paying attention to Lan WangJi’s chopsticks, he notes that he ate mostly from the milder dishes, rarely the bright-red ones. Even when he did, his expression remained the exact same. Wei WuXian felt something tug at his heart.” uGGgGgGHhHhH 

[shleepys]

Summer Tones

This story can be found on my Archive of Our Own! I recommend going there and reading the notes I’ve left. Any feedback (constructive criticism or support) on either platform is highly appreciated. :)

Chapter Five

Ch.1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 6

- - - - - -

June 4th, 1985

Indigo

Five Days Later

BANG BANG BANG

Steve jerked up from the bed with eyes wide as they shot to his bedroom window. Billy leaned against the window with cupped hands to peer inside, a grin snaking its way onto his lips when he spotted the other and waved. He quickly rolled his eyes before rushing to the window to unhook the latch and slide it open.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Steve hissed.

Billy lowly chuckled, tongue dragging over his teeth. "You told me if I ever needed a place to stay that I could come over, so here I am."

Steve blinked, Billy would've had to scale up the side of the house and it's not like there's a ladder up to his window. He had no clue as to how Billy got up here let alone where he would've climbed to get there in the first place. He shook his head, "Why didn't you just ring the doorbell?”

"I didn't want to wake up your parents-"

"They're not here."

Billy threw his legs over the edge of the window sill and slid inside. "You never told me they weren't." Steve just stood there and glared at him. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, but- I-" He sighed, allowing his fingers to rub at his eyes in an active attempt to try and cover their bleariness. "I'm tired." Steve shifted away from him, moving to the free carpet next to his bed and sitting down with a plop. Billy followed. Steve continued to touch his eyes, catching glimpses of a backlit Billy through obscured vision and a flustered mind. "What do you want to talk about?"

"What do I want to talk about? You're not going to say hi first, pretty boy?" Billy asked in a low, teasing voice.

Steve knitted his brows and grumbled. "Hi." Billy lightly chuckled, Steve could hear the tongue trapped in between the others teeth. Another eye roll.

Billy slid off his leather jacket and chucked it across the room. The other didn't bother to look to where it may have miraculously landed, all of his attention remained on Billy. Billy as his smug little smile slid right off his face. Billy as he caught Steve staring at him but didn't bother to tell him to stop despite knowing that silence was perched on the window sill, he just stared back. They both stared.

An ocean of darkness colored the walls indigo while the moonlight painted them a tinge of grey, their faces changing in tone as the shadows of tree branches and clouds decorated them with navy and prussian.

Billy faintly smiled, unexpecting of the venom soon to come. "Where are y'parents at?"

Steve continued to glare at him, hurt toying with his voice. "Somewhere for work. They didn't tell me where, just left the house without saying goodbye, but were thoughtful enough to leave a note on the counter." He shifted his position to where he laid on his back, staring up at the eggshell white ceiling and watching as his mind created creatures out of the patterns carved into it. The blue ambiance changed their shapes as shadows from outside twisted the patterns until all Steve could see was downturned smiles on distorted faces. His expression soon followed as it slightly relaxed and that familiar lost feeling from earlier began to seethe and prick the corners of his eyes.

Billy bit his lip, guilt bubbling in his chest and regret fiddling with his question. He moved from his spot by the window and laid on the floor with Steve.

He didn't come over to pour his heart out to Steve about his problems, he wanted to talk to his friend, make sure everything was running smoothly, find out if he needed to knock someone's lights out for him, but that was only after hanging out with Tommy Hagan twenty minutes earlier. Originally, they had both planned to hotbox his basement and laugh the night away while talking about god knows what until the other brought Steve up - and once they started talking about him, they couldn’t stop. Billy had a thousand questions regarding him, and Tommy had a thousand long answers to those questions. Hours had flown by and Billy didn’t take a hit, he couldn’t. His stomach got tied in knots and his heart made him queasy talking about Steve like he was fretful about something.

But there wasn’t a reason to be fretful. It was just Steve.

Tommy had gone on about how they had met, their adventures through school, how Steve usually came over for dinner, little things that he remembered, and then ended with how they both fell out of touch. He talked about the fight with Jonathan, how soft that Steve had gotten, and how he wasn’t surprised how him and Nancy broke up. Billy knew Tommy was trying to play it cool and act like he didn’t care that they were friends anymore, but he could tell that he was hurt about it. Tommy brought up a few negative things about the other every once in a while, however, all of them were left off on a solemn note rather than a sour one. They obviously weren’t enemies. They were friends that lost their spark and don’t know how to reignite it.

Tommy had alluded to Steve having a broken household when he brought up how he would typically come home with him and eat dinner with his family, which happened to be just his mom but even that helped Steve cope with the situation.

Billy didn’t know that Steve had issues, or at least he liked to think he didn’t when he obviously did. Envy got in the way of him considering that Steve faced anything remotely damaging, especially when they still had knives to each other’s throats. It was better to not think, to switch off and go into auto-pilot when tormenting others, to not consider that they could very well be dealing with the same exact trauma that he did at home, to listen to the rumors that went around and think that a rich boy living in a remote town in Indiana had nothing to worry about when mommy and daddy could pave his success with a little bit of encouragement from a stack of hundreds. It was easy to conform and bully, but it wasn’t to break the chain and show empathy. Fear played a key role in governing his actions, an inner fear that told him to hold up giant barriers and keep everyone out. If he kept everyone out then no one could hurt him, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting his heart torn to shreds.

His finger began to trace shapes into the carpet, switching every so often between watching his movements and how Steve fought in a staring contest with the ceiling. His eyes flicked to Steve’s hands. They were tense, clawing at his arms and leaving little pink trails behind them. He went back to Steve's face, noting how his brows were tainted with pain and lip quivered as they laid there in silence. How Steve’s frown began to toy with Billy’s heartstrings in a way they hadn’t before. How Steve’s eyes began to glisten in the pale moonlight as it seeped in through the windows and exposed his tears to the other.

Billy sat up, getting real close to the other before hovering about a foot over his face to distract Steve. In no way is Billy an orator when it came to these kinds of situations, he doesn’t even remember if he’s ever comforted someone while they were upset like this. When Billy broke down during the party, so did a carefully constructed wall relying on suppressing emotions to stand tall. When he broke down in front of Steve, he didn’t mean to. It wasn’t his intention to burst out into tears. And he didn’t expect Steve to stop him when he tried to storm off, to grab on to his jacket and put him in his place, to tell him he understood. To be honest, all of it shocked him, and sure if Steve once held the title of ‘King’ and Billy ‘stole’ it from him then yeah he should’ve concluded that Steve bullied people the same way he did at one point. Sure, Steve had gotten ‘soft’, Tommy wouldn’t shut the fuck up about that, but this ‘soft’, being soft didn’t mean anything terrible. Being soft meant being compassionate, caring for others, showing some form of empathy instead of being an inconsiderable fuckhole. Billy liked soft, despite not being the kind of person that dared to show any form of softness. But for Steve? Maybe he could show his softness.

He just doesn’t know what to say to Steve, he’s afraid he’ll slip up and send him spiraling. But, he can act, he knows how to do that.

Steve stared up at him, glossy eyes wide and lips parted in confusion. Billy’s pendant swung close to his face, his curly hair falling past his shoulders to add to the rapid palpitations of Steve’s heart as he laid frozen there. A blush sprouted in his cheeks, faint and settle in color until it spread to the rest of his face.

And before he knew it, Billy shifted and picked him up. Steve let out a surprised yelp, his hands reaching up to grab onto Billy’s shoulders but put down before he could act. His royal blue comforter enveloped his body as it tried to calm him, but he didn’t want to be calmed, he didn’t want it to wipe away his tears this time. Steve jerked up from the comforter, eyebrows knitted and nose crinkled in a flustered rage. His mouth opened to say something spiteful, something full of resentment, but the other shut it for him.

“Talk,” Billy demanded. His weight formed a divot in the bed as he sat down in front of Steve, mirroring the same aggravated expression. Steve stayed quiet despite Billy’s wishes, but after a while, he crumbled and fell apart. His eyebrows lost all their fury, lips parting again but only to let out a shaky breath, eyes beading with tears, hands covering his face and cursing into his palms as if he were telling them little secrets. A choked sob broke from behind his hands, one that drove a harpoon right through Hargrove’s heart.

Steve shuddered, mumbling something incoherent under his cries.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” Steve wept.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Steve.”

“But they’re never here!” Steve’s voice crumbled underneath him as he tore his hands from his face revealing the water-bound eyes and flushed cheeks hidden behind them. “They’re never here- I don’t know why!” His throat tightened as he tried to hold back another broken sob that managed to wiggle its way out. He shuddered again, trying to hide his face from the other.

“Them being here isn’t in your control.” Billy cooed. His heart pounded in his chest and his mind raced, thousands of thoughts pouring over the flood gates as he tried to use the right words to construct the right sentences. “Hell, there’s a lot of things that aren’t in our control Steve, but how they show their appreciation is fully up to them. Of which they don’t care to show you enough of.”

Billy continued to watch, his lip slightly trembling. He doesn’t know if it helps the other to hear something so blunt especially in such a fragile state of mind. The fear piled up again, he doesn’t know how to act now. He doesn’t know if he can say anything to help Steve cope. He could’ve just said the worst possible thing in a situation like this, but he doesn’t know. “I don’t know if you want me to stay, I think I should go. If Neil-” Steve latched onto Billy’s wrist, holding it tightly with panic shaking his body to send Billy’s head spinning around to face the other in confusion.

“Please don’t leave!” Steve cried. They froze in place, both sets of eyes wide in shock as silence overcame them and tears rolled off of Steve’s rubescent cheeks. Billy’s arm felt like it had been set on fire and had gradually spread through the rest of his body in waves, a blush attacking his face as he stared at the other. Steve had pulled his hand away out of speechless dismay. He shuddered again, pricks of pain shooting through the corners of his eyes as he prepared to be yelled at like his parents would. To be screamed at and then left alone without any remorse.

Billy cleared his throat and rubbed at his wrist where Steve had grabbed on. Slowly, he took his attention away from it and sat next to the other on the bed. He faintly smiled despite fear wreaking havoc on his ribcage, he needed Steve to know that he’s going to be okay. That he’s here for him, that he can help him. “I’ll stay right here, but I’ll have to leave in the morning, okay?”

The shaking began to settle after listening to Billy, a frantic look of dubiety sweeping his expression after he turned to him and took a long sniff in an attempt to take control of himself. Steve used his arm to wipe away some tears before mumbling in response. “Okay.” He reflected the small smile, but there was still something sizzling inside. Maybe it was the onslaught of happiness and safety he had been engulfed in by the others words, or maybe it was the dread tearing through him that he had acted so ‘inappropriately’ towards his friend.

He sniffed again, conscious, rational thought being taken away by his emotions until his body reached its breaking point. Steve lunged towards Billy with arms spread and held on. He hugged the other as a choked cry ripped through his throat and tears began to put wet patches on Billy’s white button-up.

Billy went rigid, his blush deepening in color and electricity flashing through his heart. His breathing became heavy and distorted as he began to take in what just happened. That was the last thing he had expected out of Steve. All the panic that was burning in his chest was suddenly replaced with a warm fuzzy feeling, all at once. A foreboding feeling spread through his body as he began to remember a time where he felt that. He knew what that sensation was, he knew very well what it was. His chest pounded as he tried to regain composure and push away his thoughts as they swarmed in to scream at him. He wrapped his arms around Steve and let him cry. He held him close and listened to the gasps and sniffs as they came out of him in sudden bursts.

Billy could now remember when he had comforted someone, and it was his mom. He couldn’t remember the context of how it happened - most likely an abusive outburst from Niel - but he remembered that moment. How beautiful she was as tears trickled from her soft eyes, her fair hair tucked behind her ears and cheeks enflamed from weeping, and despite all of that there was a smile on her face. A broken laugh sounding out through a shattered woman as she assured her son that she was fine and embraced him with everlasting love.

He tightened the hug, eyes glossy and shining in the light peaking through the window.

They both felt inadequate in their own ways, whether that be through their parents, relationships, or through the general judgment from society, they just felt indifferent. Like even if they tried to make it up to that they couldn’t because the latter half wouldn’t accept it or would rather use and abuse than look past it all. There was the question of what they would do if they were to go out on the town and someone were to spot them doing whatever and spread rumors.  Would they act like enemies, or would they tell the truth?

Neither of them want to fight. They’re friends, they know that. But should they really play it up?

They’re ‘friends’ now. But will they open up to be more?

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Twenty-Five: Flying Overhead ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, gun ] [ Verse: We’re Not in Konoha Anymore... ] [ AO3 Link ]

How did it come to this…

Sitting in her chair by the window, Hinata stares through the panes at the cloudy night sky beyond. The moon, risen above them, alights the plumes of vapor to create a fantastic landscape of highlights and shadows. If only she could be there, among the clouds, rather than trapped in here.

She’s still not sure how they found her. Their little village had been remote, far back in the mountains. With her family gone and herself all alone, Hinata had been living on her own in the little house where she was born, doing well enough to survive. Most of the other families had perished or moved on...but she refused to leave.

And then...the men came. One bore strange books with symbols that matched the old markings in her home. Those, apparently, were what he was looking for.

...and Hinata herself.

Unable to resist so many adults, she’d been forced to accompany them, refused any explanation or details about why they had come for her, or where she would be going. They had taken her out of the mountains to a nearby city...and now, she’s aboard an airship, heading to goodness knows where. Lethargic and silent, she doesn’t even turn to look when one of the ringleader’s underlings offers her a plate of the ship’s provided food. In truth it smells amazing, and she’s starving...but she can’t bring herself to eat. The less she acquiesces, the better she’ll feel. She doesn’t want to give these kidnappers anything more than they can force out of her.

So, she keeps staring through the glass, wishing to anyone listening for a route of escape.

...and that’s when she sees it.

From between the hills of cloud cover zip several small flappers, each bearing a person as they streak toward the passenger airship. For a moment they hover alongside the cabins, and Hinata recoils as one peers right into their room.

A begoggled woman grins, blonde hair flying askew before the little planes head up toward the front of the ship.

Tension buildings in Hinata’s gut. Even she knows what this means:

Pirates.

Within a few minutes, the distant sounds of a ruckus begin to filter down from the bow. Gunfire and screaming begin approaching fast as the renegades make their way to the cabins.

At once, the men with her spring into action. All three lackeys and their leader barricade chairs and luggage in the corridor beyond, wielding their own firearms and laying down covering fire.

Retreating and leaving that to his men, the mastermind pulls out a morse code radio. “Hinata...I need you to stay still and quiet. You won’t get hurt if you do exactly as I say.” Hunching over the device, he holds the headset to an ear, the other hand tapping out a message Hinata can’t begin to translate.

Edging back from him, she looks around the room. This might be her one bid for freedom…! Her gaze lands on a glass bottle, empty from the group’s drinking. Taking it up by the neck, she inches toward her captor, hands shaking as she brings it up over his head. Now or never. Teeth gritting, she brings it down with a cry. The glass shatters, and he crumples like a sack of potatoes to the floor. Pawing through his jacket, she finds her necklace he took from her, the stone gleaming as she ties it back around her neck where it belongs.

Her heart thunders in her chest. She...she has to get out of here, but how? The door is blockaded by the other men. That...just leaves the window. Taking a steadying breath, she gives a grunt as she pulls up the pane, the passing air quickly whipping hair, clothes, and debris alike as she eases her way out.

Okay, Hinata...don’t look down…!

Toes finding a rib of the ship, she clings to the sill, eyes pinching shut as she affirms her grip. Then slowly, so slowly, she starts sidling her way to the next window. If she can just make it to another cabin, she can hide, or...make a run for it! Whatever happens, she has to get away from these people…!

Back in the room, the pirates force their way through, immediately turning its contents upside down. Reaching for the unconscious man, the captain’s amber eyes narrow. “...so...it’s you,” she mutters under her breath. “Any sign of it?”

“No ma’am! Or the girl, either!”

“Well she has to be somewhere!”

Noting the open window, one pirate sticks his head out, hollering as he finds Hinata clinging to the edge. Gasping, she leaps for the next opening, almost slipping as her hands hold on for dear life.

“There, she’s got the crystal! Get her! You, head into the next room and -!”

Flinching at the ruckus as her feet and hands shake, Hinata can barely manage a gasp as they give way. Like a stone, she begins to drop through the sky, a screech tearing at her throat as gravity takes over.

Panicking, realizing this is the end...her mind goes blissfully blank as the wind tears at the tresses of her hair and the skirt of her dress.

...but not all is yet lost.

Miles below, blissfully unaware, one Sasuke Uchiha scrambles back from his quick trip into town. Despite the late hour, he’s still doing his best to help his boss keep the surface operations of their mine going. A crew of miners is currently still digging, and Sasuke was tasked with fetching the overseer some dinner as they wait.

Jogging his way back and coming up to the edge of the pit, he can’t help but notice a twinkle far above him. “...huh…?” Slowing to a stop, he watches as something slowly descends from the sky, flying overhead and making to land just atop the mine.

Squinting, he tries to puzzle out what it could be...and as it gets closer, he can see it: it...it’s a person!

Eyes widening, he bolts forward, making his way to a ramp along the edge of the crater. Setting aside the thermos of food, he eases his way to the very edge where the person makes to land, carefully holding hands under their form. It looks like...a girl. About his age, and just...floating. A strange necklace - the source of the twinkling he noticed - slowly dims...and then she falls!

“Ah!” Barely catching her, Sasuke struggles to pull her up, knees shaking as he stands at the lip of the platform. After a long moment, he manages to shift their weight enough to collapse on his backside, the girl still in his arms.

...what on earth…?!

Staring at her with wide, incredulous eyes, Sasuke catches his breath before flinching as his boss yells. Having...no idea how to explain this, he decides to leave her for now. Carefully setting her back from the edge, he shrugs out of his jacket and lays it over her. He should do more, but...well, he can’t get scolded, and he needs to tell someone about her!

Taking up the thermos and making his way down, Sasuke is nonetheless interrupted as pipes start leaking, and the hoist sounds. Going to manage the latter, Sasuke stares up at the girl’s distant form, scrambling for the break as the cart makes it back to the surface.

...the results aren’t encouraging.

Empty handed, the crew all sigh and head for home, leaving Sasuke to finish powering things down for the night. Left without an adult to turn to, he gives the girl a glance before getting to work. Only once he’s finished does he retrieve her, carrying her all the way up the hill to the little house at the top.

Thankfully his brother is already asleep, and Sasuke quietly heads in. As gently as he can, he arranges his new guest into his bed, not wanting her to be uncomfortable. Once she’s tucked in, he can’t help but look a little closer. People don’t just...float! It had to be something to do with that crystal, but...it’s dull now. No more light, no more floating. Funny...for some reason, the little insignia carved into it looks vaguely familiar, but...why…?

Having no energy to ponder it tonight, he instead checks on his brother, ensuring he’s still asleep. Listening, he doesn’t hear any rattling in his breath. Good...he took his medicine, then. Sighing, Sasuke then slinks onto a spare set of cushions, mind full of the mystery as he sinks into sleep...

                                                           .oOo.

     Well, I think this is a first xD I can't think of any direct crossovers I've done in this yet, aka a plot-for-plot cross with another story. I've done universes, but not exact scenes. I'm a little leery of it cuz it's not as...original as shaping my own scene, but admittedly I LOVE crossing Naruto with Studio Ghibli, haha!      So this, for anyone unfamiliar, is about the first ten minutes of Castle in the Sky, but with Hinata and Sasuke! And a few other unnamed characters you might be able to guess, but most I don't have specific ideas for, lol - so minor spoilers if you haven't seen that movie...which you should. It's awesome. Studio Ghibli is always amazing xD      Buuut yeah, that's all for tonight! Thanks for reading n_n

[otterbagel]

Urban Explorer- Ralph x Reader

Reader likes to explore old buildings, but one day encounters a damaged deviant.

(Notes: This is a hot mess, no lie. This was something I imagined pretty clearly in my mind, but then I had no clue where to go or how to end it. Sorry for that.)

Warnings: Brief mentions of dead animals.

     When Peter had told you and Tony about the possibility of another free-range exploration, you were ecstatic. Being able to look through abandoned buildings at your leisure, uncovering pointless secrets, and maybe finding some interesting souvenirs of history was an interesting hobby of yours. Definitely not a common one, but one nonetheless. 

  Unfortunately, your friends didn't exactly share this hobby. While you found excitement in old letters and bits of destroyed photographs, they enjoyed scrounging up old jewelry and sellable pieces of furniture.

  Peter walked in front of you and Tony as you all headed for the front door. "I don't think it should be too hard to get out, but we'll see." Peter looked over his shoulder, saying your name. "I don't think we'll need your help, but I'm not sure yet. If you see anything else that might be worth something, let us know. But yeah. We got free range of the place."

  "Gotcha," you responded, following him through the doorway. 

  The house was practically destroyed. Boxes of wood was laid about, chairs upturned, and graffiti was covering the walls. There didn't seem to be much to look at in the living room. 

  "Is that the one you were talking about?" Tony gestured to the arcade game as Peter inspected it. You tiptoed your way to the kitchen, glancing about for anything that piqued your curiosity.

  "Yeah, it's the only one here that I know of," Peter responded.

  You looked around the mangled kitchen, mouth gently opening as you noticed the obsessive carvings on the walls. 'RA9' was written over and over, with no rhyme or reasoning to their placement. You crossed your arms as you turned your head, inspecting the confusing mess.

    "Will it fit out the door? Or in the truck?"

  You looked at the counter behind you. Odd bits of wood and plastic was stacked on all the surfaces. The only things that seemed remotely purposeful was a dead bird laying beside a broken watch and a small amount of cash. 

  "Uh, I think so."

  It was such an unnatural place for a bird to die; had it been moved? You stepped away and turned to walk back to the others when a bright color caught your eye. A plant of some kind. You crouched to look at its leaves closely. 

  "Watch your hands," mumbled Peter from outside.

  It looked perfectly healthy, not to mention the soil in the pot was lightly moist. Your heart dropped.

  Someone had been here recently.

  Your foot bumped something as you leaned up. You glanced down, seeing a large knife at your feet. You bit your lip, trying to think of what to say to the others. Who lived here? Why were they here in the first place? Did the owners know?

  You walked through the living room, seeing Tony and Peter slowly pulling the machine across the yard. You swallowed as you turned to go up the stairs, catching a brief glimpse of your face in a nearby mirror. Your anxiety was showing clearly by your wide eyes and clenched jaw.

  The upper floor was lit by the strong sunlight filtering in through the many windows. There was an open bedroom that immediately caught your attention; a lot of people kept personal items near their beds. You rubbed your fingers together as you slowly entered. This was the first time during one of your explorations where you felt like an actual intruder.

  The mattress was filthy, its stained sheets laying mostly on the floor. You approached the nightstand, lightly pulling open the single drawer. Completely empty, aside from some dust. You closed it, inspecting the room once more. 

  Besides some trash, the only other interesting part of the room was a small closet. With just a few quick strides, the fragile knob was in your hand. You pulled open the door without any hesitation.

  The flashing red light and shuffling made you freeze.

  You hadn't even considered the possibility that they were still inside the building.

  He was an android, that much was clear. His LED was flashing wildly as he tried to push himself away from you, twitching strongly as he whimpered. 

  "Humans are back to hurt Ralph," he whispered at a barely audible level. You couldn't move or respond.

  "Hey," Peter called, causing the android to flinch. "did you find anything up there?"

  Although you gripped the doorknob tighter, your eyes couldn't leave his terrified gaze. "No, nothing," you forced out. "just some ripped up clothes."

  "Ah, sorry 'bout that." You heard some pacing downstairs, the figure in the closet still fidgeting below you. "When you get down here, can you lock up? We're gonna take this and get it appraised."

  "That's fine," you said, angling your voice to the door. 

  "Alright. Be careful on your way home!"

  "You too." 

  You heard the front door shut, making an awkward situation. 

  You tentatively took a few steps away from the closet, keeping a close eye on the android as he slowly rose to his feet. You felt your legs bump against the mattress, neither of you breaking eye contact as he slowly stepped out. Half of his face was mangled. Probably from humans.

  Suddenly, he turned to rush out the door. "Wait! I'm not going to hurt you!" you called, trying to keep up and he bounded down the stairs. You hung onto the banister as you flung yourself towards the kitchen, his green cape fluttering in the archway. You skidded to a halt as he reappeared in the living room.   You had forgotten about the knife.

  "Stay away!" he ordered, holding the knife with both hands.

  You brought your hands up in a calming motion as his light flickered. "I'm not going to hurt you," you breathed. "we didn't know anyone was here. I'm sorry for scaring you."

  He stared at you for a moment before lowering the knife to his side. "R-Ralph wants to apologize for scaring the human as well," He shuffled in place. "he wasn't expecting visitors. Visitors may hurt Ralph."

  You nodded slowly. "I'm-"

  "They took Ralph's TV away!" he chirped, eyeing where the arcade machine had been as he moved around the empty space. 

  You felt your face heat up from the embarrassment. "Sorry... Ralph," you said in an unsure way. "they didn't know you lived here."

  "Mean humans..." he grumbled to himself. He rose his eyebrows in intrigue. "Why was the nice human with them?"

  You rubbed one of your wrists, thinking of how to phrase your odd hobby in a simple way. "I like looking at old pictures and things," you explained. "it makes me happy."

  He appeared to be deep in thought, then smiling and waving his arms around like a giddy child. "Ralph has something the human would like! Follow him!" He motioned to the kitchen with the knife, which you stayed back from. 

  You entered the next room, Ralph then shoving a wrinkled piece of paper in your hand. You inspected it. It was an older photo of an android, similar to Ralph.

  "Its a picture of Ralph! -Or at least it looks like him," he corrected. 

  You noticed him eagerly grinning at you as you held the photograph. You smiled in response. "Its lovely," you responded.

  "Ralph thought the human would like it," he glanced about the room. "do they like Ralph's home? It has many old things."

  "Mhm," you mumbled. The RA9 carvings on the wall caught your attention again. You gestured to them. "What does that mean?"

  "What?" he said plainly, confusion covering his features.

  "RA9. What does that mean?" you walked a few steps towards it, reading the same word over and over with a raised brow. 

  "Ralph doesn't know. But he likes to write!" he cheered. You stifled a laugh, still unsure about the writings or their creator. "He likes plants too. Plants are nice."

  You looked at the lone greenery on the counter. "Is that yours?"

  "Yes! H-her name is Leafy," he stammered, smiling at the small potted plant. "She makes for good company."

  "Would you like some more plants? Or is Leafy enough?" you asked.

  He shifted his weight, eyes darting between you and the plant. "Ralph loves Leafy, but he would like even more friends!"

  "I'll get you another plant when I come back, then."

  His intact eye seemingly lit up with excitement. "Human is coming back?" his features calmed as he took on a more perplexed expression. "But... why? Humans normally don't like Ralph's house... or him."

  Your first instinct was to lightly touch his arm, but his skittishness made you stand back. "You and your house are lovely, Ralph. I want to spend my time here."

  He dropped his knife and enveloped you in a tight hug. You were momentarily alarmed, but the happy squeaks coming from the android brought you out of your worries. 

  "Ralph isn't alone anymore! Oh, um..." he looked embarrassed as he gently moved his face off of you. "W-what's the human's name?"

[angermango]

[slides into inbox] wanna talk about those elementals real quick

OH BOY WOULD I !!!

so i dunno how much detail i should put out here on the get go, especially with the whole thing where i’m still unsure as to whether or not I should use them as Mortal Kombat OCs/fan interpretations of canon characters or just OCs on their own (in which case they’d be just ordinary elementals although i guess they can still be gods? :V)

Regardless they’re all supposed to be ageless immortal non-humans in human form sort of dudes who are basically the embodiments of the classical elements with so much power they’re basically deities by any other name so take your pick

Down here’s a guide to your friendly neighbourhood elementals (cut because it got LONG):

Ohona

Earth elemental/deity

Name based on a Japanese earth god named Ohonamochi (though he doesn’t really share much in common with the myths etc surrounding that guy, just the namesake)

He has control over the element of earth but also can manipulate anything under the earth so that includes metal and even minerals/gems

He’s the definition of a ‘gentle giant’ like he’s well over 7ft tall and broad like an ox but he’s the chillest and loveliest guy you’ll ever meet

Ohona’s kindness is freakin’ legendary. Even the nastiest of people would be hard pressed not to admit he’s such a nice guy they feel bad going up against him. If someone pulled a knife on him and demanded money Ohona’d fuckin give them his entire purse and then invite them for a meal and tea.

His big friendly giant thing means he’s probably classified as a pacifist, or at the very least one of those “Martial Pacifists” who doesn’t kill or use more force than necessary

His fighting style prioritises defence, the kind of Big Beefy defence trading on speed where he aims to outlast his opponents and keep his own attacking to a minimum. He’d much rather see his enemies give up than be forced to hurt them, sometimes deliberately letting them wear themselves out so he can approach and possibly talk it out with them without having to raise a hand

That said if he does ever have to attack he hits like a freaking bus on a train. He knows proper martial arts forms and everything so don’t think just because he’s a tank he doesn’t have skill or strength

He likes using his element to form shields and even armour around himself. He got the standard rock armour look down, but if the situation calls he can even scare up full metal or even diamond armour and shields

He is able to transform into a purely elemental form which is like a huge golem made of rock (like the MK Earth God). He’s even bigger and tankier in that form, but he rarely cracks it out unless it’s Serious Business and the situation calls for being huge and strong

He can also change up his elemental form if given enough time so sometimes y’all get metal golem Ohona or diamond golem Ohona stomping around. good luck if you ever go up against that.

Something of a nomad when he’s out and about in human form. He loves travelling, mostly for the hiking and scenery. I mean yeah he can teleport (usually as a small sandstorm or sometimes in a sort of ‘sink into the earth and pop out elsewhere’) but where’s the fun in that? He’s very much one with nature and his element and lives off the earth sort of thing, enjoying the great outdoors and sleeping under the stars

Brilliant gardener despite plants not being his domain, mostly owing to his naturally excellent care of the earth

Absolute animal lover and friend to everything that moves

That also includes the super freaky and dangerous animals. catch him treating a 13ft gator like a dog and getting it to roll over for belly rubs or calling one of them bird-eating giant tarantulas his hairy baby.

He’s really friendly and warm to humans he meets regardless of whether they acknowledge his power or not. He likes spending time helping them out however he can with his powers be it helping them do some gardening or fixing stuff up

He’s a talented hand in sculpting, carving, jewellery and pottery craft to name a few. He’s got a rather infamous habit of making some incredible pieces then just giving them away and fucking off, leaving people with these beautiful pieces of art which are completely anonymous and literally priceless

He always makes time to visit Hinoka and Suijin either separately or as a get-together. They’re his two best buddies and he is always happy to keep Hinoka company or keep an eye on Suijin.

Hinoka

Fire elemental/deity

His… is actually not a real deity’s name, I think i remember seeing some fan names for the unnamed MK fire god using it and liked it. sorry oddball

(ED) o I think i found the origin it’s probably from the Shinto fire kami Kagutsuchi who is sometimes known Hinokagutsuchi or Hi-no-kagutsuchi waddayaknow - he doesn’t share the same myth as Kagutsuchi tho but now we know his name isn’t completely random hey-oh

As a Fire guy he controls flame but also heat, being able to thermoregulate his body and the air around him. He can also absorb fire and heat so he’s like immune to burning too and can put out fires by standing in them.

His elemental form is of course basically a humanoid bonfire, though he’s able to not make himself wholly flammable so he can walk around indoors and around people without making everything catch alight, but his elemental form can also still burn people on contact through radiating heat. it’s elemental magic man he don’t got to explain

He’s a very capable fighter in both martial arts and also swordfighting as his weapon of choice. cause you know what’s better than a sword? A FLAMING sword. He also mixes in the classic fire-bending tricks where he can, fireballs and flamethrowers and so on.

Got a very fast and ‘keep away’ sort of fighting style where he favours AOE kinds of moves to keep people at a distance with the threat of getting barbecued or beat to hell. Expect rings of fire, explosions and sweeping fireballs sort of thing, as well as a lot of constant moving around to make it hard to pin him down.

kind of a hermit so he doesn’t actually really go out and interact with people a lot save for his fellow elementals. and even then he’s pretty quiet and shy and it takes a lot to coax him out of his shell

If you do manage to get through to him he’s quite a nice guy. perhaps still not the most talkative, but he’s not going to be rude or anything

He has a thing where if he gets startled or embarrassed he sometimes accidentally lights himself on fire and Shenanigans Ensue. It’s often a bit of a chain reaction because say you surprise him and he flares up, and then he gets embarrassed for flaring up, then he gets embarrassed that he can’t stop flaring up etc.

The reason for his reclusiveness is pretty sad actually. He’s cripplingly afraid of hurting people with his powers because he knows he can deal some serious damage with them. That’s the thing with fire, it doesn’t need a lot to get going and can spread very quickly. But because he isolates himself and stews in his fear he doesn’t have much control when he is around people and loses control when he’s stressed and then continues to fear being around people…

And the reason why this fear started is even sadder. A very, very long time ago, Hinoka once lost control of his powers in a blind rage and made a desert. A really, really big desert. Out of land which was once fertile and thriving. And inhabited. He still hasn’t forgiven himself for it and it’s really not a good idea to bring it up.

Because of what happened, that’s why he only hangs out around the other two elementals and any other immortals, because he knows he can’t hurt them that badly if something ever went wrong.

He tends to retreat to extremely remote regions and in very basic conditions, like a cabin or even a small cave, far from civilisation.

He prefers temperate to hot climates but like even if he was in the Arctic he is always warm himself so it’s not a big deal.

He spends most of his free time meditating and practicing forms in an attempt to de-stress and get some control over his powers. He also reads sometimes (though he fears for his books) and has gotten fairly good at cooking as a past time (even though he doesn’t quite need to eat like a human).

Speaking of his food the other two elementals always like dropping by to keep him company over a meal or to share new recipes/try his new recipes. Always an evening well spent.

Despite popular beliefs and stereotypes, he doesn’t like spicy food. Too much spice will hurt and then he’ll become stressed and because he’s stressed his fire aura will flare up and so yeah he doesn’t do spice.

Suijin

Water elemental/deity

Named after Shinto water kami of the same name

To put it bluntly Suijin’s like. a massive jerk.

Of all the elementals Suijin is the one with the lowest opinion of humans/mortals.

His reason is because he mostly spends more time in the sea and not integrating with humans.

And also because humans keep dumping their crap in the oceans and he’s left choking in it and clearing it all up so STOP DOING THAT YOU OIL PISSING FUCKMONKEYS

oh yeah he’s got an atomic temper and a vocabulary to match. being immortal just means he’s had more time to pick up some fantastic new curses to try out.

speaking of his temper he’s seriously got waayyyy to small a fuse and he’s so extremely hot-blooded there’s no in betweens when it comes to chill or no chill. one moment you could be talking about ice cream the next he’s chokeslamming you because you put sprinkles on it.

fun fact when he gets mad he often literally steams with anger

He also puts zero effort into his appearance when around mortals, his robes always looking scruffy and half-undone. see if he gives a shit what you think.

He prefers being in his elemental form most of the time, which is just a human-shaped mass of water. In this form he can melt into bodies of water and travel as a puddle, letting him go pretty much anywhere he likes. However he’s also vulnerable to extreme heat or cold in this form since it will dry him out or freeze him solid

His control of the element of water means he’s also technically got power over all water in all its forms including vapour e.g. steam and clouds. He’s also not limited to the water which is immediately around since he can call up water from any source or even move some clouds over for a top up. He could even create water on the spot from the air or dump a tidal wave on your doorstep even if you live inland. don’t try him. He’s also picked up some ice tricks, which also helps make him less vulnerable to being frozen

True to his personality and element he’s got a very aggressive and fluid fighting style that attacks on all sides and constantly moves and changes to take everyone by surprise. One minute he’s in your face with his fists the next he’s using Hydro Pump from a distance and then stabbing you from behind with his spear and calling you a bitch.

Okay so i said he’s a jerk and he is, but he’s also kind of a ‘jerk with a heart of gold’ guy in a way. For all his temper and foul mouth he can be decent to people when it matters. He’s still a surly grouch even around friends but he makes the effort not to be needlessly cruel and if his yelling and cursing genuinely upsets anyone he’ll dial it back and even apologise if he overstepped.

He’s also very loyal to those he is actually friends with. He may be a little intense about it, but he’s super ride-or-die and will tear anyone who threatens, upsets or insults his friends a new one. And he might not be the best with his words, but he would want what’s best for his friends and won’t hesitate to speak his mind with advice or criticism in their best interests.

He mostly keeps the company of the other elementals and non-mortals, though whenever he does make contact with humans who haven’t ticked him off it’s by the sea since he rarely roams far from his element.

Believe it or not, he and Hinoka are best friends. Hinoka is like Suijin’s one soft spot who he’ll move heaven and earth to keep happy and safe.

When Suijin is around Hinoka he basically does a 180 and becomes super considerate and careful around him. He won’t raise his voice and minds his manners, though he knows Hinoka doesn’t mind him grumbling and cursing a bit and it’s more he will be more mindful not to sound all negative and get loud and mean around Hinoka because he knows Hinoka doesn’t like it.

He knows about why Hinoka is so afraid of going outside and has been doing his best to support him ever since the incident. He visits often to check in on him and keep him company. He also knows Hinoka feels safer with him around because he is the only person Hinoka can’t actually hurt with his fire powers (as in Suijin can’t even get burned where Ohona can still) and Suijin can always put out fires quickly.

Hinoka is also Suijin’s biggest berserk button. Don’t ever insult let alone hurt Hinoka in front of him or Suijin will actually tear you in half.

He’s also just as close to Ohona despite not seeming it at first glance. He often seems like he just gripes a lot to Ohona but he genuinely appreciates Ohona’s consideration and patience around him and being a loyal friend. Suijin will just as easily jump in to defend and fight for Ohona too like he does Hinoka, but less often since he knows Ohona can handle himself and barely has problems.