#wild is a feral child but a great cook

[mx-legend-of-faye]

Imagine this:

Your typical Wild meets the chain fic, except make it really silly.

How, you may be asking? Wild goes into the meeting knowing the fact that the chain are indeed all heroes of previous eras. Will he be introducing himself? Sure— wait no. Not yet. Why? Because first he needs to insult their cooking skills and make them a new meal. Introductions can wait, remedying that atrocity which the chain is eating cannot wait.

Idk, I just think it would be fun. A little dash of silliness. Do you see the vision?

[majorproblems77]

A little gift for you :) (sorry if the characterization is wrong)

Sky is sitting in the grass, admiring the flowers--er no weeds Wild called them, and taking in the breezy air. It's quiet, no monsters snorting and yelling, no Hylians talking, laughing, or shouting. Just the chosen's breathing and the wind rustling the blades of grass. His thoughts trail from the weeds to the chain.

There's Time with his great leader skills, a familiar friend to the skyloftian. The others often joke about Sky and Time being the parents of the chain (Platonically of course). Sky finds that the old man’s stoic facade was a mask, worn to hide his hurt. Time hasn't revealed everything of course, but Sky knows enough to see a traumatized child underneath all of the masks Time decides to wear.

There's Four, who's eyes flicker with different colours seemingly all the time. Icy blue often represents his fierceness and temper, amber red represents his tears and smiles and innocent looks. Deep purple, almost violet represents his focus, intelligence, and calculating decisions, and then forest green represents unity. Sky finds he's quite curious with all this, but he knows not to ask. Instead, the chosen takes to learning what to say and do when the smithy needs help.

There's Twilight, with his incredible strength, and friendly persona. He often scolds the champion or the sailor, or just sighs and says he's getting grey hairs. Sky has seen the ranch hand throw enemies across the battlefield, lift things that should be impossible to lift, and he even said he defeated a Goron in a wrestling match. But, a look from Time can make Twilight shrink, and stay quiet. Sky thinks-no he knows Twilight and Time must have some history. Especially since the rancher often tries to imitate the old man's looks.

There's Wind, the kid who wears his heart on his sleeve. He'll cuss even when he's told not to, he claims he's a pirate. The chain tend to "baby" him the most. Sky knows he does it too. Don't get him wrong, the sailor is very capable of fighting and staying alive in deadly situations, and he thinks the others know that too. But, the thought of losing a child to this adventure...even letting the kid get huge scars makes Sky's stomach churn. The sailor's said he's been on two adventures, one with the aid of a talking boat and the other with the aid of a fairy and another pirate. Sky actually likes to hear the kid tell these detailed stories about his adventures. (Only he avoids the gruesome parts)

There's Legend, the veteran hero who wields many many tools and uses his experience with ease. The vet has been on six adventures after all. Legend had been a mystery for awhile, but Sky had managed to change that. He found that under some of his sharp retorts and bickering was an attempt to balance things, and to hide his vulnerability. Sometimes to make the heroes laugh, or to keep them in line. The skyloftian also likes to cuddle with him. Yes, cuddling, he likes that a lot.

There's Hyrule, the sassy but cautious traveller. From what Sky's heard, his Hyrule is barren, and his life has been spent, constantly trying to survive. At first, the traveller was nervous and wary of everyone, but after a bit of time together he relaxed more and began to trust them. Sky has never really been close with him, but they share a small bond.

There's Warriors, the captain. He can go from being stern and on captain-mode, to being a goofy older brother who will happily tease his siblings. Sky had found out that he has a lot of trauma from a war, and has been betrayed by some of the people who he had trusted. But, as the group became closer, the captain found more confidence that these heroes would not betray him and he become more of a brother than a captain.

There's Wild, the feral champion who cooks most of their meals. The cook has explained where he got his scars from, why he gets memories from time to time, and why there are ruins in his Hyrule. But even despite that all, he'll eat mysterious mushrooms off the ground, go exploring without a map or a plan, and rush into battle a bit recklessly. Sky can only imagine how many grey hairs Wild's given Twilight and Time. But the cook is quite intelligent with survival skills, and he's so good with a bow, almost never missing his targets.

At the beginning of this adventure, Sky was dreading the entire thing, so sad to be away from the love of his life, his childhood friend, Zelda. Or rather Sun now, he supposes. And sure he’s ended up missing her dearly, playing his harp in melancholy, but it wasn’t as bad as he had originally thought.

"Sky, Sky!" Wind yells, startling the chosen out of his trail of thoughts.

"What is it?" Sky asks, turning around to face the sailor with a smile.

"We're playing a card game, but we need more people! Can you join?" Wind says, grinning.

"Sure."

Sending love cause you deserve it

This is really sweet, thank you uni! God I'm actually in love with this. It's so sweet!

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole

Chapter 9 - It's Raining Somewhere Else

"An umbrella...? But it's not raining. Ha, ha...You know, that does make me feel a little better about this. Thank you. Please forget about me."

[I'm gonna start posting fics here alongside my ao3! If you prefer one or the other, let me know!] [ao3 Link!]

~~~~

Ingo paused his breakfast as Melli approached his tent. “Ah, good morning. I have just finished preparing miso soup and fried eggs, if you are interested. But I urge you to be quick. Gliscor has been eyeballing the eggs-”

“I take it then, you haven’t heard the news?” Melli sneered.

A little taken aback, Ingo lowered his bowl and replied, “...surely if I had, I would’ve mentioned it? What happened?”

“There was a landslide! At our settlement! Half of the homes there are buried in rubble!” He gestured down the mountain with both hands, clearly worked up about the matter.

Ingo blinked at him. “But there has been no rain. How could it have-”

“IT WAS THAT BRAT RUNNING AROUND!” Melli practically snarled. “That little bastard child woke the Alpha Onix and caused a LANDSLIDE!”

Taking a moment to process this information, Ingo asked, “The…the same child that attacked Arezu? And robbed Iscan? You are saying this one child caused a landslide?”

“The very same!” Melli leaned in close, as if telling a secret. “And I think he did it intentionally.”

“Intentionally.” Ingo echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You believe this boy intentionally angered the Alpha Onix to cause a Landslide for…what purpose? Purely for spite?”

Melli sat beside him, taking his full bowl of miso soup to eat. “I have a theory, although it's more than likely to be fact.”

“Please, have some soup, it’d be an honor.” Ingo deadpanned. Melli ignored him.

“I’ve heard stories, see, of babies being abandoned in the wild.” he said between slurps of soup - he refused to be quiet even when eating it seemed. “And instead of the native pokemon devouring their tender, infant flesh, they instead adopt the baby as their own!”

Ingo nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard of these stories as well. Feral children, I believe the term is. Raised by mankeys, mightyenas, ursarings, gogoats, kalosians-”

“What was that last one?”

“Disregard it. You believe the boy is a feral child? I was told he spoke to Palina, how would he have learned to speak?”

Melli waved this off. “Chatots learn how to speak all the time. Parroting and echoing. He has a kirlia, you know. I’ve heard that those kind of pokemon can mimic speech.”

Still unconvinced, Ingo asked, “Where is this track headed, exactly? If this child is truly feral, as you say, shouldn’t we try to reach out and help the boy?”

Melli finished the bowl of soup, setting it down and picking up the plate of eggs next. “Here is what’s going on. This boy was abandoned in the wild and raised by gardevoirs and gallades and kirlias. He calls himself Berry - not even a real name, by the way-”

“Barry is a real name?”

“Berry? Like a fruit? That’s not a name.”

Ingo went to answer, then paused. “...I must have misheard. I have never met someone named Berry before. That is strange.”

“ANYWAY, before you so RUDELY interrupted; The brat’s raised by gardevoirs, see. And he’s finally old enough to go on his own, and he sees the illustrious light of my clan! And he sees how almighty Sinnoh shines down upon us so, and he is cursed with envy!”

“You are delving into science fiction.”

“Envious enough to STRIKE AT US!” Melli finished his loud ramblings, shoveling the rest of the eggs into his mouth once he did. “These are overcooked. Don’t cook them for so long next time.”

Ingo fought not to roll his eyes. “...I will…take it into consideration.”

Off deep in the mountains, electricity crackled and boomed, visible even during the brightness of the morning sun.

“Your Lord seems…off.” Ingo said, slowly standing. “I would be more concerned about that than some feral child. Their lightning seems…abnormal.”

Melli stood, gasping in offense, “The state of MY great Lord is none of your concern, Warden of the Pearl Clan! You keep your nose out of my business!”

“Just as well.” Ingo adjusted the brim of his cap to block the sun. “I will see about dealing with this ‘feral child’, then. I already have a plan formulating, and if the tracks are clear, I doubt he will be a problem.”

“Oh, let me guess. You’re going to challenge him to a battle.” the other Warden snarked. “I’m sure he’ll love that, your merciless gliscor tearing his pokemon-family to shreds.”

“You always put gliscor in a bad light.” Ingo said with a shake of his head. “You are only half right. I have every intention of challenging the boy, but I have no intention of winning.”

---

Barry released the murkrow from its ball, making sure that his pokemon were safely behind him. He had never trained murkrow before, but they were a bit of a pest problem back home, so he had some knowledge.

This murkrow was big. Really big. Twice as big as the murkrows back home - no doubt one of the ‘giant’ pokemon that plagued these lands. The toxicroak, the ursaring, the drapion, the onix, and now this murkrow.

Barry stared at the murkrow. The murkrow stared back. The red eyes that these giant pokemon had were still there, but less intense. It chirped at him, head tilted in a curious manner.

Slowly, Barry waggled a finger at the large bird. “That was very naughty.” he scolded. “Trying to eat my friend like that. Very naughty.”

The murkrow watched his finger like a purrloin watched a toy. Barry was quick to stop waggling his finger, not wanting to lose it. “My name is Barry. Barry. And I want to be friends.”

His pokemon chittered nervously behind him. Fern tugged on his jacket, as if trying to change his mind.

Barry carefully moved his hand closer, gently brushing against the bird’s feathery cheek. There was…something about the color that intrigued him so.

That intrigue quickly vanished when the bird bit him. He yelped, yanking his hand back as Jen and Fern puffed up to defend their trainer.

The murkrow crackled before flying off. Despite nursing his hand, Barry knew it couldn’t fly far, not while still connected to the pokeball.

And just as suspected, the murkrow flew a bit, but settled on a nearby tree. Fern gave Barry a concerned look, but the boy reached down to gather the few feathers that it had left behind, tucking them behind his ear.

He had a mountain to climb.

Barry began walking, Jen and Fern flanking his side, the murkrow circling behind them like a vulture. It was definitely setting his pokemon on edge, and Barry tried to remain calm to comfort them.

He would befriend this murkrow. Afterall, they were going to be spending a lot of time on this mountain.

Climbing the rocky foothills were exhausting. Jen had grown tired, so Barry had taken to carrying the little piplup in his arms. Fern could float, so Barry wasn’t worried about it.

The newest member of their little group, though.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see it struggling to keep aloft. It would fly, land, pause for a minute, then sluggishly took flight once more.

Barry waited, watching carefully for the murkrow to land. Once it did, he scooped up under it, tucking the dark bird under his arm like a parcel. “Here, I’ll carry you!”

The murkrow squawked, flapping its wings as it settled into being carried. “We’re a team now, buddy. That means we look out for one another - me especially! It’s my job to make sure you’re OK. And right now, you’re tired! So I’ll carry you.”

From his other arm, the piplup peeped in agreement. The other bird seemed puzzled by this, but finally tucked away its wings to get more comfortable.

Barry really needed to name this murkrow, now that he had two birds. “What about…Edgar?...no, no, I don’t like that one.”

Besides him, Fern chittered. “Nah, I don’t like that name either. I’ll come up with somethin’.”

Around noon, the little group stopped for lunch, taking shelter under a small tree to hide from the unforgiving sun. Barry glanced up at the mountains looming above them, and stifled a nervous groan - mountains were so much taller than he remembered…

And the swirling vortex in the sky did little to quell his fears. It was so much bigger now, threatening to swallow the mountains whole.

‘Lunch preparations’ was really just cutting a plethora of berries to more evenly divide amongst the group. Pecha, oran, sitrus, and whatever other berries they could find. Then, he would set them on neat little piles on wide, flat leaves in lieu of dinner plates and bowls.

He set them down in front of his pokemon, before picking up a leaf-plate and approaching the tree where his new murkrow-friend had perched. “Here you are, buddy. It’s lunch! No burmies on the menu!”

Setting the leaf down, Barry gave the murkrow a wide berth to comfortably eat. “I think…I’ll call you…” he frowned. “Lucas told me that murkows have a gender difference, but I don’t remember what it is…guess it’s a mystery.”

He blinked at that. “...huh, I kinda like that. It has a nice ring to it…Mystery the Murkrow.”

The now-named Mystery quickly finished the leaf of berries, much faster than Barry expected. “Oh, uh. Right. You’re a lot bigger than the others…”

He returned to the others, grabbing the leaf-plate meant for him. “Here, Mystery. You can have my lunch! In the future, I’ll make sure to grab enough for all of us!”

Mystery stared at the boy, then looked down at the second leaf-plate, then back to the boy. “Yeah! That’s for you, bud! It’s OK!” Barry insisted.

The bird seemed to hesitate for only a moment before digging into the second plate.

Preoccupied with its meal, Barry was finally able to stroke the bird’s feathers without getting bit. Absent-mindedly, he picked out the dirt and gunk between the feathers, seeing as how this would be a prime opportunity to do so. A clean pokemon was a healthy pokemon.

“...the color. Definitely the color…she had this hair color…” he muttered under his breath, his fingers twirling around the longer feathers.

Once Mystery had finished eating, it snapped its beak at Barry’s hands, beating its wings in a clear display of ‘leave me alone’. He raised his hands and backed away, “OK, OK, I can take a hint, sheesh. Just cleaning you up some.”

Mystery fluttered back to the tree branches, keeping a careful eye on the boy.

The little group stayed and rested for a bit longer, and when the harsh sun vanished behind some clouds, they continued.

Mystery the Murkrow was flying closer now, even occasionally landing nearby and hopping alongside him. He didn’t bring much attention to it, as to not frighten the bird or sour the budding relationship.

They climbed until the sun began to set, and by that point Barry was truly and utterly exhausted. Climbing was tiring as it was, and skipping a meal did not help. “I think we’re gonna turn in early, guys. Let’s look for a place to set up camp!”

They settled on a small nook in a large tree. Pulling Pest out of his coat, the little bug quickly got to work on making it more comfortable.

Barry kept a close eye on Mystery during the process, turning to ask, “We’re going to hit the sack soon, what do you wanna do, buddy?”

Mystery tilted its head, clicking its beak at the boy. “Jen and Pest sleep with me, and Fern keeps watch!” he explained. “You can do whatever, though. If you’re more comfortable in the trees, I won’t fault ya! Not for me, though. No more sleeping in trees for me, thanks.”

Once Pest had finished silking up the hollow with a satisfied chirp, settling into the silken webbing, already getting comfortable. Jen was next, hopping up and wiggling inside. Barry nodded, hanging his bag on a nearby branch. “Fern, you don’t mind keeping watch?”

Fern chirped to confirm, carefully fixing its ‘skirt’ to sit comfortable just next to the tree.

“Alright! Goodnight everyone!” Barry said, patting Fern on the head and crawling into the nook himself. It was a bit of a squeeze with a piplup and burmy, but cozy.

Finally, hesitantly, Mystery hopped up and shuffled inside. Its talons were sharp, but Barry was too ecstatic to complain. The murkrow carefully nestled on the boy’s chest, tucking its head under its wing.

“You’re still not allowed to eat Pest.” Barry whispered, stroking Mystery’s back. “But you’re totally allowed to cuddle. Goodnight buddy!”

Pulling all his pokemon into a hug, he could feel himself drift into sleep.

---

“You wanted to see me, Cynthia?” 

The former champion nodded, gesturing to the chair opposite her. “...Barry. We need to talk.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather stand, actually. C’mon, Cynthia! I’m busy! I’m going to double check the Eterna Forest! Time’s wasting! Don’t make me fine you!”

Cynthia inhaled slowly, then let out a heavy sigh. “Please. Sit.”

Barry knew better than to argue with the former champion, especially with that tone. He pulled out the chair and sat down without a word, fingers drumming on the wood of the table. “...is this good news?”

She struggled to look him in the eyes. Attempting to open her mouth to speak, no words left her lips. Eventually, she stopped trying, eyes firmly fixed on the table.

A clock ticked somewhere in the house.

His leg bounced under the table, he knew that she hated it when he did that, but he really couldn’t stop himself at this point. Barry could feel a lump forming in his throat. “Is it…news? Any news?”

“Barry.” she leaned forward, placing her hand on his own and giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze. Her other hand rested on a small, leather-bound book. “I…don’t think she’s coming back.”

"You're wrong." He croaked, barely comprehending her words.

"Barry." Cynthia said with a bit more force in her tone. "It's been several months, the police have yet to find a single lead. Her room was untouched. Her PokeBalls were in the exact same place as the night before."

"Exactly! It's strange!" Barry tried to stand, despite her hand on his own. "People do not just, just, vanish! They do not disappear! They don't go to bed at night and are gone by morning!"

"They shouldn't disappear. But they do regardless. Please, sit down."

"No! No! You're wrong! You're wrong! She's not gone! She can't be GONE!" It was almost hard to speak with the lump in his throat; his voice crackling with emotions, his eyes welling with tears. Barry wanted to get up, to leave, to run, to run, to run-

But Cynthia kept him right there, with the weight of everything that had happened on his hand as she held it.

Somehow, she kept her voice level. "This world is…mysterious. And it is wonderful. And it is cruel. It can be all of these things, Barry. We still don't know all of the mysteries of this world. The how and why she vanished…it may be a mystery I will never solve. It would take a miracle."

That damned clock kept ticking.

Finally, Cynthia looked him in the eyes. "But I want you to look at me and know this. She's gone. She's not coming back."

"YOU'RE WRONG!" The boy exploded, finally yanking his hand away and stumbling backwards. He knocked the chair to the floor with a loud clatter, almost tripping over it in his desperate attempt to run.

Barry stormed out without another word.

She waited a moment, then Cynthia placed her head in her hands. She hoped that would've gone better. But at the same time, Barry was the second-most impulsive person she's ever met.

She got up, fixing the chair he had knocked over in his outburst. Then, she returned to the table, reaching for the small book.

Flipping to a dog-eared page, Cynthia sighed. Her fingers carefully brushed the pages, the words painting a rather mundane picture of the daily life within Jubilife Town.

That was until a girl fell from the sky.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Oh see, while I'm sure I'd feel rather hunted if I actually like, met a giant jackrabbit man who looked like That, when I saw your picture something about him triggered an instant cute aggression response hard. Which I'm not usually prone to, so that was an interesting experience lol. My second response was the same one I had the first time I saw the Hisuian Zoroark design, which was to vibrate out of my skin over how cool it looked followed immediately by the intense desire hug and pet it. Considering that the only reason I actually got pla was because I wanted a Zoroark, that's certainly saying something. I'm a big fan of emaciated-looking character designs, especially when it makes them look kinda haunted or feral, and you hit it spot on, perfect 10/10.

Oh good, I'm glad you don't mind! If I do end up posting some of them, I'll let you know (if you want me to) and link back to your drawing so that people know the credit for the fantastic character designs go to you!

That's true, the Galaxy Team and Ginko Guild would have the widest variety since they probably come from all over, though there are enough marshland and heat-adapted animals out there that the Diamond Clan probably is pretty diverse too. The Pearl Clan would definitely be the least diverse in general though, because there are only so many types of land animals that are able to live full time in a tundra. And I could see Ginter as a goat! Or like a donkey or malamute that hauls stuff around.

Though here's something I just thought of, would Sabi be considered unlucky to the Diamond Clan as an arctic animal? She's not really safe to stay in the mirelands, which might be part of why they made her a warden so early, so she can't ever come home for very long. And unlike in the Pearl Clan, the Diamond Clan probably would view that as a type of exile, because she doesn't have the option of spending time with the clan as a whole. Right now she still has her baby fluff so technically she could have had more time with them, but maybe when Braviary's old warden retired (or died), Adaman thought it best to just move Sabi into that position once it was clear that they got along, just so that she wouldn't have to actually be exiled when she got too old to safely stay. When they meet up they have to do it in the highlands where it's not too cold for Adaman and not too hot for Sabi. She herself doesn't actually mind, because she's young enough that she probably hasn't actually internalized their beliefs that much, but I bet it's hard being a kid without your family or friends to play with anymore. I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up going a little bit feral living out there with just herself and wild pokemon around for the most part, but if she really got hungry for people interaction she could always hang out with or prank people in the highlands, and with how young she is even the Pearl Clan might tolerate her being around more than they have any other Diamond Clan member in the past.

Oh, actually, maybe when Irida makes that first step by asking Adaman for help with Ingo, it opens him up to asking Irida for help with Sabi after he decides to make her a warden. But where Irida just wanted advice on how to keep Ingo, you know, alive longer, Adaman was asking if Irida could maybe look out for Sabi, at least somewhat, just so that a tiny child doesn't die out in the wastes because she didn't know how to find/cook food or take care of a wound like an adult would. Although, even if he didn't, I think that noble pokemon don't actually care about Clan lines, so if she did get hurt Braviary would probably just drop her off at the Pearl Clan settlement and demand she get treated, and like hell are they going to go against a noble's wishes, which is something I could see happening in canon. Lmao, that's a great point about Mai and Ingo though, I can see that exact interaction perfectly. She tried, not her fault if he doesn't want to listen.

Lol, Very Complicated is right! In OoP, Kamado was able to get to her in a moment of weakness, but you can tell throughout that Irida cares about Ingo and had in fact trusted him quite a lot, enough to vouch for him and confide in him about her role as a leader in any case. This is just taking that up a notch or two by mixing in the fear that comes from knowing there is a good chance her friend might die. That is an excellent plot device, plus it'd be very fitting considering that he saved Sneasler and now her domain is one of the only places he can actually safely be. He was, it'd look to them, clearly meant to be her warden with how neatly things had slotted together. I'm not sure if Irida would divulge how poorly Ingo was doing, but if the people of the Pearl Clan were prone to traveling around there'd surely be at least a few people who saw Ingo for themselves, especially if part of his role was helping them traverse safely through. So they'd know this nice, helpful, polite man (who, yes, is frankly very odd), the man who had saved their noble and was destined to serve her, was consistently looking worse and worse. Maybe they bring it up with Irida and she has to explain what she knows, and some of them start bringing things for him when they know they're headed his way, like food or mittens to replace his lost gloves or something. What he loses in a long term ability to survive in Hisui he makes up for by gaining a little bit of community.

hehehe that's so fun i love that, ty. i can for sure get the cute aggression response too. fucked up jackrabbit guy...

:0 yeah i'd love to see it if you end up posting it!! for sure!!

donkey is another option for ginter, yeah... or maybe an ox? something that's good for hauling and pulling large weights. very funny in comparison to his employee, a dove, the least draft animal to ever exist,

oof, you're right, sabi would probably have a pretty tough time in the mirelands as a penguin. she's definitely way more suited to the region where she's warden than the one where she was actually, like, born. i wonder if there's something where she's like, a child of the previous warden, and the Animal Roulette got confused about which region was "home" and went with an arctic animal because her parent spent so much time in the icelands. (...something something, au where braviary's former warden was sabi's mom and her father is gaeric, who hasn't told her or anyone else bc of clan tensions, but now she's taken the position so he has an excuse to keep an eye on her under the guise of assisting his fellow warden)

also the idea of her just wandering into the pearl settlement to hang out, aww. the other kids probably wouldn't think too much of it, depending on when they get taught about clan affiliations and all that (and besides, she's a warden, aren't the rules kind of different around there?) so they're happy to play games with her until braviary calls her back to go do warden stuff. that would have its own issues, though, if the diamond clan grows concerned that pearl might be manipulating their warden... teaching her about the False Sinnoh and trying to convince her to change allegiances, disrupting the balance throughout all hisui... (they're not doing any such thing, in fact the adults probably avoid discussing sinnoh with her as much as possible, but you know how people are)

i wonder if, if she's already hanging out with pearl enough, it might not go in the other order. like, it's adaman who first asks irida (or the pearl wardens or something) to keep an eye out for sabi, because it's really nonstandard to have a warden this young and yeah he's worried about her, ok? this concerns them too, anyway, since wardens are sort of both clans' business. and it's that shaky gesture of trust that prompts irida (because this is, strictly speaking, interfering in ingo's business and she isn't sure how he'll take it) to ask him about ingo, later.

and yeah of course it would look to them like ingo was like, sent to be sneasler's warden. though i wonder if, even if some of them saw him, they'd even notice how much he'd changed, considering they probably see him only infrequently and most of what they remember is "weird alarming rabbit thing" which is a description he just fits better than ever, lol. still, though, they'd probably pick it up via behavior if nothing else—that he constantly seems only half-present in conversation, etc—and do what you said re: trying to help them to the extent that they're able

[baileyboo2016]

opinion on hyrule (im so sorry about this i just want to read an entire essay right now)

Hyrule. where do i even begin. he is literally my baby bear my littol cinnamon roll babey boy baby and the sweetest little blorbo around. he is somehow underrated in the lu fandom like what is the reason?? he has the floofiest hair and i want to squish his littol face so bad (/affec) and run my fingers through his floofy hair and pick like little weed flowers from someone’s yard and stick them in his hair so he can twirl with the flower and make a daisy chain because i know he would be good at that. he is a horrible cook but that’s okay because cooking isn’t for everyone! also like you can’t go wrong with a blorbo who can LITERALLY TURN INTO A FAIRY. like COME ON. and he can use his magic to heal people and when he does so his hands GLOW?? like THAT IS SO COOL???? also he is willing to risk his own life to heal another link because he can’t let them suffer knowing he could have helped. like that is a pretty darn good heart you have there, rulie. he went through so much and survived great horrors (i mean he literally has a blood curse) and he still does everything for his family. also any fanfics when he passes out from magic exhaustion and wakes up in another links arms turns me into FERAL WILD CHILD. LIKE WATCH OUT BAILEY JUST READ A RULIE WHUMP FANFIC. also the dynamic between Hyrule and Legend oh my gods i could go on forever. bros will do anything for each other even though when they first met they tried to beat the shit out of each other. like talk about epic character dynamic! rulie is a great explorer even though he gets lost a lot which i don’t blame him for, the woods can get a little confusing sometimes.

TL:DR I LOVE RULIE 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹

[dapandapod]

41 with Dadralt and tiny!smol!ciri? 🥺 Just imagine her running up to geralt full force and latching onto his legs like a tiny monkey yes I have many feels

41. Hugging someone’s legs

Uh, YES please!! Dadralt and baby Ciri, ugh, I just love them I have SO many feelings, aahh! (and have a handsome babysitter is not a bad idea either, no?) And also littol Ciri telling Geralt off because she is very wise and Geralt really should know better. Yes.

Please enjoy <3

Send me a hug prompt? On Ao3 Hug collection here

Geralt likes to call Ciri his little cub, but if he spends one night a little too late at work, she turns into a monkey.

The cutest, fluffiest, most feral little monkey he has ever seen.

This is one of those nights, when work dragged on a little too long. He has made an arrangement with his kind (and unfairly hot) neighbour Jaskier to pick her up from kindergarten the two days a week when he knows he will have more to do.

He knocks on the door and Jaskier soon answers, looking soft and slightly rumpled.

From inside, he can hear a Disney movie play, and ah, they probably cozied up on the couch.

Geralt feels a pang of longing to have been there, to see his child feel safe and happy with a man he doesn’t even dare ask out for a coffee.

He is such a coward.

“Hi there,” Jaskier greets with a smile, his shirt riding up when he scratches his stomach. Geralt is looking respectfully. “Good timing. She was just complaining about you.”

“Oh no,” is all Geralt manages, before a high pitched screech is heard from inside, and then rapid beat of small bare feet racing over the floor.

“DAAAAAA!” Ciri yells, and then her little monkey self appears.

Her pale blond hair is wild, sticking up in every direction, and her small round eyes glare up at him in great offence. That hair will be a pain to brush out tomorrow.

“Whewe have you been!! I have been wowwied sick! Did you even look as you cwossed the street!!” she rants as she collides with his legs, clinginging to them.

Jaskier looks on amused, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had to ask Jasier to put on Fwozen twice, Da! That’s how long you were gone today!”

“I am so sorry,” Geralt apologizes sincerely. “I bear gifts for my little princess, if she would let me go?”

Ciri glares up at him suspiciously.

Gifts is apparently a good word, but letting go, not as much.

Jaskier finally decides to take pity on him and kneels by Ciri’s side. He pets her wild hair and she glares at him too.

“Hey, why don’t we ask Da if he will stay with us for a little while? We still have to finish Frozen, and you could show him what you drew at school today?”

Geralt and Ciri both melt at this, and Ciri finally relents.

“Fine. But Da, you cawwy me to the couch.”

Geralt sets down his work bag and the little box from the bakery down the street. Ciri stretches her arms towards him, pouting, until he lifts her up. She wraps her arms around his neck and holds him as tightly as her little child arms can manage.

He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around her properly.

“You smell old,” she whispers, nuzzling in closer and scratching at his beard. Jaskier snorts a laugh and stands up, knees creaking.

“I think he smells nice,” Jaskier says, and before Geralt has time to properly register it and have an internal breakdown over this, Jaskier turns and walks deeper into the apartment. “Come on. We have macaroni to cook and a snowman to sing with.”

Geralt didn’t have to ask Jaskier out for a coffee.

Ciri shows him all her drawings, and explains that there are so many hearts above Geralt's head because he is in love with Mr. Jaskier.

A child's brutal honesty.

Geralt sits there panicking, thinking of how he needs to apologize and maybe ask old Mrs Vegelbud to look after Ciri instead, when Jaskier reaches over and borrows Ciri’s pen.

He leans into Geralt’s space and draws little hearts over the stick figure that Ciri pointed out to be him.

“Then there should be hearts over mine too,” Jaskier confesses to Ciri, before looking up at Geralt. “Because I am in love too.”

[gaylactic-fire]

Completely underrated LU duos I need to see content of:

-Hyrule & Wild

Probably has the most content of everything listed here but there’s so much possibility for so much more!! Like they both live in some Not Great eras of Hyrule and that alone opens the door to so many potential fics. Also Wild teaching Hyrule how to cook my beloved. We need to stop focusing on them getting lost together and start focusing on their super interesting chemistry.

-Twilight & Four

Despite being maybe one of the most canon platonic relationships in the comic (seriously, go re-read if you don’t believe me) it has never quite reached fandom popularity. A travesty really. They both have that middle sibling energy, combined with them knowing at least one of each other’s secrets. Let them be brothers!! Let them bond over secret sharing!!

-Sky & Time

There’s a lot of potential for conflict with these two and I’m just 👀👀 thinking about it. Conflicting views on Hylia, the master sword, etc like I have no doubt these two could go for each other’s throats if they wanted. But where there’s conflict there can also be learning and trust built slowly over time and that is even more interesting to think about.

-Wind & Legend

Honestly Wind and anyone at this point, amarite Wind fans? Yeah this is definitely bias because they’re my favorites but I wholeheartedly believe Legend definitely has a soft spot for Wind, him being the youngest. He doesn’t like seeing yet another child have to go through this hero nonsense so he has somewhat of a protective streak, even if he’s subtle about it. Also these two have the potential to pull the sickest of pranks together and you know it.

-Warriors & Hyrule

I feel like Wars, Rule and Legend get lumped together a lot which is fantastic because their dynamic as a trio is honestly golden. However I do feel it’s quite rare to see content of these two alone, which is a shame because I feel there’s a lot interesting things to be explored between them. Hyrule doesn’t like seeing himself as a hero, meanwhile Wars is a knight who’s unapologetically confident in himself. In comes feelings of unworthiness, maybe even jealousy or spite from Hyrule. Perfect recipe for hurt/comfort.

-Sky & Four

Four absolutely grew up hearing “myths” about an ancient civilization above the clouds. Imagine how enamored he’d be to find out it was all true? Four is a little Sky fanboy. Change my mind.

-Wild & Wind

I will not indulge in the haha feral jokes here but I do think these two probably have the most energy of the group that they sometimes need to expel and they likely turn to each other (see the korok leaf doodle). But there’s also tension between the two, at least in terms of how they view the monarchy and it’s something I haven’t really seen explored. Especially since they both have equally valid points.

-Legend & Sky

In which the kindhearted guy bonds with the jaded guy. There’s not much else to say but there’s not enough of it!

-Twilight & Wind

There’s definitely content here and there but it would be neat to see a role reversal since Twilight almost 90% of the time takes on a big brother role. BUT! Wind is also a big brother! Let Wind comfort Twi!! Let him!!

[bokettochild]

Why does everybody think that Wild is the dumb, reckless one. Sure he is a bit feral but the others can be just as, or even more, weird as he is. Wind grew up on an island and is being forced to walk miles with no use for his set of unique traveling skills and he might complain every once in a while, also he is a flipping pirate. if the colors do speak or control Four at some time, he could be really snarky and crazy for one second and all mushy the next. Time is still pretty mentally scarred from his adventure; he seems pretty chill but piss him of well something could happen. Twilight has his wolf form and mauls things with his MOUTH, Wild has never done that, has he? Warriors is very battle organized and will cut through enemies without hesitation. Sky jumped of cliffs for fun and used a freaking cloth to land safely not to mention he leans into high tracks on rickety mine cart rides. Legend is triforce heroes Link and dresses up in crazier outfits than Wild's vai attire. Hyrule in jojos mind is the arsonist (I know I thought wild was too) and he cooks like moza. So, people reading this keep this in mind for future projects and let Wild have a brain. You are stereotyping this poor child! He did not finish all 120 shrines, buy and decorate a house, help build a town, find all memories, learn to cook, get the master cycle zero, complete the divine beasts, and get the memories all before Zelda's power failed so you all could call him functioning of 1 brain cell (he has great time management skills). sorry for the essay but this had to be said. please share this with other people because I care about our Wild Child.

__________________________-

Right? try to give him a brain as well as letting him be a gremlin (see Wild Conceptions). This guy is pretty dang smart, and might even be genius level if he can follow along with Flora in a conversation. Hello? He can figure out how ancient tech works and solves insane puzzles on the daily.

[justgenshinstuf]

Hey, If you're taking requests, how about some team headcanons for Traveler, Bennett, Razor and Qiqi?

I loved this one so much, thank you for the request! Hope you’ll like how this one turned out. Thinking about this team instantly reminded of an old vine, so I just had to, I’m sorry xDDD

TEAM HEADCANONS: Traveler, Bennett, Razor, Qiqi

You started adventuring with The Boyz long before leaving to Liyue Harbor. Always enthusiastic but unlucky Bennett and silent but loyal wolf-boy Razor.

Everyone else was too busy with their work in Mondstadt, so you had no regular team to accompany you. One day you stumbled upon a boy, covered in bandages. He was stuck under a fallen tree, struggling to get himself out.

“Woah, thanks for your help! Last time this happened I was stuck for much longer”.

He patched himself up like nothing serious happened and was ready to move on, but you decided not to leave him all by himself.

His green eyes brightened up when he realised you were that famous adventurer from the Guild. And it looked like he was ready to burst in tears when you suggested to go on adventures together.

Oh, boy, you couldn’t imagine what you got yourself into. Bennett is a great friend, kind and gentle, his personality was not the problem at all. But his misfortune following him everywhere surely was.

You’ve never seen one person get so much injuries in one go. Falling rocks, lighting bolts, wild animals, all kinds of dangers, you name it. It seems like he can get hurt even by standing still.

At first you were rightfully scared for him, a few times you were almost sure he died, but he always got up and just went with it. He says he just got used to it, adapted to the pain.  

One time you saved him from the hillichurl attack, taking the hit yourself last second. Nothing serious, just a scratch, but it was the first time you’ve seen Bennett so shook and worried. Covered in scars himself, your minor injury seemed like his biggest concern.

Thankfully he brings bandages with him everywhere you go. And he is excellent at first aid too. It’s a shame such a skilful adventurer has to go through so much misfortune.

It was a pleasant surprise to find out they are friends with Razor. Bennett looked out for him for sometime, bringing wolf-boy delicious meals he cooked himself. It was sort of a lunch-break for Bennett, a chance to have a meal and a chat with a friend.

Surely Razor is not the chatty type at all, he is actually kind of annoyed by a lot of talking given the fact he can’t even understand parts of it. He still listened tho, probably feeling that Bennett just doesn’t have much friends besides him.

“Bennett is good friend. Like meat, hunt together. Hurts too often, smell unluck” - Razor tried to explain their relationship to you. He still has hard time learning to speak properly, but he tries his best.

Razor loved to tag along on your missions from time to time. “Y/n and Bennett are strong, but I have teeth of thunder”.

When it came the time for you to leave Mondstadt, the boys just couldn’t let you go alone. Bennett insisted that “Benny’s Adventure Team” can’t split up now. It’s a name he used for your party and it kind of grew on you. Cheesy, but cute.  

“Because you are my friends. My Lupical” - Razor added without hesitation. How could you say no to such loyal companions? Even tho they had their quirks you got too used to going on adventures together.

It was in the Liyue Harbour that you met Qiqi, a tiny zombie-girl working at the Bubu Pharmacy. You saw lots of strange things on your adventures, but she surely made a lasting impression.  

One day she ran up to you, wile your team was having a quick meal at the Wanmin Restaurant.  

“I gave myself an order to go travel with you now”.

Bennett nearly spat out his noodles and Razor received the news with a short grunt.

“Qiqi, but why is that?” - you asked kindly, leaning down to her. You weren’t sure this was a good idea at all. She is such a young child, or maybe creature? This is so complicated.

“I... Don’t remember... But I wrote it down in my notebook” And who would have thought, she really reached out to show you the proof.

It was written down in beautiful calligraphic handwriting that spelled “I liketh the traveler. Needeth to wend on adventures together.” So strange to see her write in some kind of old tongue, how old was she really?

You took some time to process, but in the end you couldn’t turn her down. Besides, even if you did, she mentioned that the order can not be undone so easily.

Since then your adventures became more bizarre than ever. Your teammates got themselves in all sorts of shenanigans daily.

Qiqi chasing birds and Bennett catching her right before she falls off a cliff, resulting in him falling himself in the end.  

Razor trying to explain she doesn’t, in fact, have a tail when she is stuck, running around in circles.  

Bennett, mid combat: Get her away from me! Razor: She is healing you. Bennett: I will BURN THE CHILD!

Razor: The pup is gone. Bennett: Gone WHERE?! Razor, pointing at the destroyed hillichurl village: Gone berserk.

Bennett: Look! Qiqi made me a flower crown! Razor: Those are poisonous plants. Bennett: D;

One time she asked Razor to teach her “the way of the wolf”, which resulted in her acting completely feral for a few days, before you could find a way to cancel her orders to herself.

Bennett, hugging Qiqi: I love you the most! Qiqi: I feel like rotting... Bennett: Sorry for having Pyro Vision ;(

Everyday it is like two babysitters are trying to handle an absolute horror of a child, while you, as a Grand Babysitter, try to look out for them. And don’t forget going on adventures in mid-time, of course!  

Razor: You are my Lupical. Bennett: YEah, sometimes “a Lupical” is an alien, a wolf, a zombie and a walking disaster on a mission!

[emachinescat]

Mama Bear

A Tales of Arcadia Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat @whumptober2021 day 3 - Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But... ("who did this to you?")

Summary: After Jim’s fight with Draal, his mom sees his bruises, and Mama Bear is unleashed. Post-Win, Lose, or Draal.

Whumpee: Jim

Words: 2,603

Note: This fic was inspired by what Barbara said in 1x13 about Jim coming home from school covered in bruises. As is my way, I took the idea and ran with it.

TW: none

Barbara Lake had always considered herself incredibly lucky that her son turned out as well as he did. It wasn’t her own doing, she was sure of that – she always did the best she could, but being a single mom meant she’d had to work extra shifts to support her small family and never felt like she was there enough.

No, Jim was just a really good kid.

Not many moms could boast that their sixteen-year-old son could cook better than they could, let alone that they made gourmet lunches and dinners (and breakfasts, on most weekends), not just willingly, but happily. And not many moms could brag that their sixteen-year-old son did the dishes or kept the house clean or put aside his own wants and dreams to take care of his overworked mother. Who got up early to leave flowers on their bedside table after a long night at work, or who tucked them in after they fell asleep on top of the covers, still in their scrubs, because they’d been too exhausted to do anything else.

Barbara tried not to brag too much about Jim. She knew that he did have a social life of his own, and as far as she could tell, he was fairly well liked at school and she didn’t want to embarrass him if any of his friends found out just how much he doted on his mother. But sometimes she couldn’t help it, and she’d find herself rambling to her beautician or the nurses at the hospital or sometimes even a long-suffering patient about how her son was one-of-a-kind. He didn’t get into trouble at school, didn’t fight, didn’t skip school, and almost never missed curfew.

Until one day, he did.

It wasn’t even like it was a gradual change. There was no slow fade. She didn’t watch him slowly descend into bad grades or late nights or midnight calls about museum break-ins. There were no signs. He went to bed one day, the same as ever, and then suddenly he was getting into trouble at school, getting into fist fights, missing curfew, breaking into museums in the dead of night. Not only that but his grades – which had always been slightly higher than average – had plummeted, and he’d developed dark circles under his eyes like he never slept and sometimes he moved around like he was an eighty-year-old man and though his good nature and kind heart remained, it seemed strained at times. He still did sweet things for her, but not as often.

At first, she’d thought he was burning the proverbial candle at both ends and his lack of sleep was taking a toll on his mental and physical health. As a doctor, she’d seen firsthand what lack of sleep could do to a person. Their entire personality would change, or fizzle out, and their judgment would be severely impaired.

But then she’d seen the bruises and her sleep-loss theory flew out of the window.

***

Two weeks ago

Barbara thought boundaries and independence were a valuable part of a child’s development, so she always knocked before she entered Jim’s room. Of course, if he were gone, she wouldn’t bother.

On this particular day – one of her rare days off – she was sure he wasn’t home. She hadn’t heard him come in, hadn’t seen his bike propped up against the side of the house or in the garage. The container of store-bought chocolate chip cookies (she had neither the time nor skill to bake them herself) she’d left out for him hadn’t been touched. For all appearances, Jim hadn’t gotten home from school yet.

And so, she didn’t knock as she approached his bedroom door with a laundry basket propped on her hip. Jim always did his own laundry, but she’d seen how tired and overworked he’d been lately and wanted to ease his burden however she could.

The sight that greeted her when she nudged open the door and flipped on the light was one that would stick with her, tattooed onto her mind’s eye, for the rest of her life.

Jim was asleep on top of his unmade bed. It looked like he’d gotten halfway undressed and then decided to forgo comfort for sleep, and lay on his stomach in only his jeans. One shoe was on, the other halfway under the bed. But what arrested her attention so violently was the great rainbow of bruises arching across his back and stretched around his side, disappearing beneath his stomach where he lay on the bed.

She couldn’t help herself. A horrified shriek escaped her, and Jim sprung up so quickly it made her head spin. The panicked look in his eyes did not escape her notice, nor did the way he made a desperate reach for his pocket, like he was trying to grab something – trying to defend himself? When he saw who was in his room, and that they were alone, and that there was no danger, the raw fear faded, though a hint of panic remained.

“Mom!” he squawked, crossing his arms across his chest like that would be enough to hide the dizzying array of green, purple, yellow, and black that blanketed his chest. She noticed with surprise the lean muscles of his arms. Jim had always been fit, but never strong. He’d never said anything about a gym and he’d never been serious about sports, but she filed this information away for later and focused on the problem at hand.

Her stomach twisted as her doctor’s eyes traveled slowly, deliberately down her son’s bare torso. The bruises were worse on his stomach and chest, something she hadn’t thought possible, and she realized with horror that some of them were days, maybe weeks, older than others. This – whatever this was – was not an isolated incident.

Rage like she’d never felt before, like the protective energy of all mothers who had come before her collected into one finely-honed sword, pierced her soul as she came to the only conclusion that made any logical sense: Someone had done this to her son.

When she spoke, she barely recognized her own voice, cold as the furthest depth of the ocean, shaking with unmitigated fury.

“Who did this to you?”

Jim’s answer didn’t surprise her, but she also didn’t believe it for a second. “No one. It… was an accident.” She watched, lips crammed together in an impossibly thin line, teeth grinding against one another, her hands trembling with a righteous anger she had no outlet for, as Jim slowly reached out for the shirt he’d left in a heap at the end of the bed, the other arm still wrapped protectively around his torso. She didn’t stop him. She would absolutely be examining his injuries fully before the evening was done, but for now, she’d seen enough. The sight of her son’s bruised flesh would burn in her memory forever, more clearly than when she saw it right in front of her.

Skittishly, like a cat caught sniffing around back alley garbage cans, he snatched up the shirt and swiftly pulled it over his head. He couldn’t hide the flinch as he raised his arms to pull the fabric over his head. As he did so, she got the full view of his torso, and the wild, impossible thought flitted through her mind that it almost looked like some giant hand had wrapped around his body and squeezed. The image, however nonsensical, sent waves of nausea crashing through her. Her anger swelled again, and the crest of it burst forth, no longer containable, and the only person she could release it on was the one who was actively lying to her.

“James Lake, Jr. – do you think I’m an idiot?!”

Jim froze, his hands stilling completely as he adjusted the neck of his tee. He had never heard his mother direct such cold fury at anyone, let alone himself. “W-what? Of course not, Mom. I just–”

“You expect me to believe that you accidentally hurt yourself this badly? That you woke up one morning and you were covered in bruises? Jim, I’m a doctor. I see people come in for less than this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have fractured ribs.” Now the anger was giving way to panic. “And don’t think that I haven’t noticed that some bruises are newer than others. This isn’t something that just ‘happened’ and it’s not an accident. So tell me. Who – the – hell – did this to my son?”

A small, ridiculous surge of satisfaction bubbled up inside of her as she watched Jim’s mouth fall open. He’d never heard his mother utter a word stronger than darn before. She’d always been very careful about the language she used in front of him. But his condition released something feral inside of her, and it was honestly a bit of a shock that nothing stronger came out.

She watched his face, saw the conflict in his eyes, knew with even more surety that he was hiding something big from her and trying to decide if he was going to answer truthfully. Well, tough luck. He wasn’t leaving his bedroom until he answered her question.

He must have seen this in her eyes, for after a moment, he dropped his gaze. Heavily, he sat down on the foot of his bed and stared down at his hands. “Mom, I… can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

At this, the fear took center stage again, and Barbara fell to her knees in front of her son, cupping his face in her hands. The tears she’d been holding back with such determination threatened to fall at the way he unconsciously leaned into her touch. His eyes closed briefly, and for a moment he was a child again, sniffling from a scraped knee and being comforted by his mother. That moment ended all too quickly, because his scraped knee was actually a bruised and battered torso, and he wasn’t a child anymore, and he was in trouble.

“Jim. Whatever is going on, I promise, I won’t be angry. But someone is hurting you. You can’t deny that. What is happening to my son?” She tried not to speculate – dared not speculate – but so many possibilities chased themselves through her head, each one worse than the last. Bullies? Abusive teacher? Drugs?

He sat for a moment, a slumped, defeated statue with too much weight on his young shoulders – Young Atlas, Walter’s voice echoed in her mind. She saw the exact moment when he made his decision. He squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and met her eyes once more. Something brewed within those beautiful blue depths, but what it was she couldn’t say. Was it regret? Guilt? Fear?

“It really was an accident,” he finally said, voice slow and measured.

“Jim, really–!”

“I’m telling the truth, Mom!” he insisted so fervently that she was tempted to believe him. Almost.

“Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?” she demanded. “What kind of ‘accident’–”

“A Vespa one,” Jim blurted, and his eyes flickered down to his hands in shame. “I… a friend gave me a ride on his Vespa. I was on the back and got thrown off and rolled halfway down the embankment before a tree caught me right in the ribs.”

Fresh panic wormed its way into Barbara’s mind at Jim’s confession. As horrible as it was, part of her desperately wanted to believe him. If he had been in a vehicle accident, then no one had been deliberately hurting her child. It was just his own irresponsibility and stupidity.

“When did this happen?”

A beat. Then, sheepishly, “... yesterday.”

But – “What about the older bruises, Jim? Did you get into two Vespa accidents?”

“Paintball,” Jim answered without missing a beat. “We had a whole thing a few months back. Guys versus girls. And I got hit. A lot.”

Barbara recalled clearly the size and location of the older bruises that had peeked out from underneath the fresh, reaching ones. They could have easily been from punches or kicks, but it was feasible that the bruises could have come from being shot at close-range by a paintball gun.

Deep down, something still nagged at her. But Jim’s explanation was a siren’s call and she was so tired of swimming.

“Do you promise me you’re telling the truth?” The gaze she fixed on him one would have withered a succulent.

Without hesitation, Jim answered, his voice clear, strong, and insistent. “Yes.”

Relief flooded through her, and she squashed the last remaining doubts, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “In that case, you are grounded.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “What, really? You promised you wouldn’t be angry!?”

“I’m not angry, I’m disappointed. Let’s see, you know how I feel about both paintball and those Vespas and yet you went behind my back and nearly got yourself killed. You’ve been lying to me, Jim, keeping secrets. Is this why you’ve not been sleeping? Why you’ve been so distant?” It didn’t explain why he’d been getting into more trouble than usual, but right now she would take what she could get.

The slightest of hesitations. “Yeah.”

She considered, eyes burning into him, for a long moment, then she sighed, the sound of every evil thing escaping Pandora’s box, and she clapped her hands together briskly. “Okay, come on.”

Jim cocked his head to the side. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital.”

Jim groaned. “Mom, I’m okay. I’m just bruised.”

“I’m not taking any chances, mister. You could have fractured ribs. You should have been rushed to the hospital as soon as the accident happened. Who is this friend, anyway? Why didn’t he take you to the E.R.?”

Jim scratched the side of his neck. “You wouldn’t know him,” he evaded, and Barbara made a promise to herself to revisit this point later. “And we were afraid we’d get into trouble…”

“Well, you did, kiddo. Now, get up. We’re going to the hospital, you’re getting x-rays, and then we’re getting ice cream.”

Jim blinked up at her. She wondered if he realized his arm was curled protectively around his ribs as he slowly eased himself off the bed. “Ice cream? I thought I was grounded.”

“You’re hurt, Jim, and I’m your mother. I’m not a monster.” A soft smile pulled at the corners of Jim’s mouth at her words, and not wanting him to get too comfortable, she added, “You are grounded, though. Absolutely. You’re not going anywhere after school for at least two weeks. And depending on the x-rays, you might not be leaving your bed for a while, either.”

“Mooom.”

“Don’t you ‘mom’ me. Now, put your other shoe on. Let’s hussle. I want you looked at as soon as possible.”

What she didn’t see as she turned to leave the room was the heavy curtain of guilt being drawn over Jim’s face.

Later, she’d drive him home with a diagnosis of two cracked ribs and deep bruising across 80 percent of his torso and a bottle of muscle relaxers for the pain. They’d get ice cream and he would mope about bedrest and she would try to cheer him up (but not too much; he was still grounded, after all). But behind the pain of his injuries lurked a deeper, fierer ache that no balm could soothe, no medication could ease.

With every lie, he could feel the chasm widen between him and his mother, and it hurt more than a few broken ribs and bruises ever could.

[mx-legend-of-faye]

Don’t piss off the person in charge of your meals.

Forget copious amounts of goron spice, if the chain really pisses off Wild they’re making either dubious food, rock hard food, or monster stew. What’s the rest of the chain going to do, cook a 5 star meal to avoid the purposefully icky food? No way, the most elaborate meal they can make is absolutely nothing compared to what Wild makes for them when he hasn’t been pissed off by them.

[alovevigilante]

Since life is a process I find myself constantly editing. I go through my day, I make observations, I feel things, I create thoughts around the observations, my perceptions from those thoughts about what I observe support my beliefs around the observations… For example: I see that the pot that I used to make marinara in last night is sitting in the sink, and needs to be soaked. I’ve learned from experience that to me it’s better to use dishwasher liquid to soak it to degrease the residue of olive oil so when I use it again, it doesn’t have an oil slick for my next meal I’m cooking. I’ll also probably remember i like to do that the next time I cook and wash dishes. I have found through trial and error that soaking it with soap is the easier, less resistant, more helpful way to do things. I like the outcome much better. Cleaner pot, less elbow grease, definitely a more efficient way to roll.

We do this all the time as humans. Our observations feed our perceptions, and if we’re in a neutral place in our emotions and environments to start the thought process, it all seems pretty calm, and easy to navigate.

Let’s add some stress to that recipe. It’s a quarter to 8 in the morning, and your kid still is in his/her pajamas, and hasn’t charged his/her tablet for school, and hasn’t eaten, and is upset because it’s spirit day, and all they have are short sleeved spirit shirts, and it’s 53 degrees outside so it’s too cold to wear short sleeves, and he/she can’t wear long sleeves under the short sleeved shirt because it’s too hot, and he/she can’t wear a hoodie over the short sleeves because no, and you’ve given them 57 other extremely decent options for a smoother morning and no one is taking you up on it.

Now, let’s look at the pot you need to wash in the sink. You not only notice that dirty pot that needs soaking and is crusty cause you didn’t presoak it cause you didn’t feel like it the night before taking up precious real estate in your sink area, cause it’s a huge pot, and your sink is too small to accommodate nothing but it, but you also notice all of the dirty dishes piling up that you have to wash and put away, but they don’t magically do it themselves and they are seemingly overflowing on your countertop, overwhelming your kitchen, and you, and there’s no room to make your coffee, which you so desperately need to get some faux energy going to face your day. Also, both of your dogs like to dig in the mud in the backyard, and your child let them in without wiping their muddy paws, so to quote Bill Cosby back in the day, all of the “filth flarn” is now all over your house because they’re wild and mostly feral, and they love you so much that they decide put their paws all over your fach and give you a free mud facial. Also, it is now 8:08 am and you have to be at the school for the first bell in 5 minutes. Then what?

Now, it should be noted, that I’m exaggerating for the sake of this example, kind of. But I have chosen to blow off the thought of the dishes, and also allowed the dogs to be filth flarn back in the great outdoors, and my son is now at school, and I am drinking coffee, so it seems ok. But, if I was pissed off prior to that, let’s say because a year ago I dropped off the face of the planet from basically everyone I’ve ever known to go on another bout of my “Willy wonka lockdown” to quote the creepy sounding guy that sharpened knives in the original version of the movie, “nobody ever goes in, and nobody ever comes out”, and you feel isolated and alone, and a bit sorry for yourself but eh cause eh, then those thoughts will compound to create a really bad observance in your present moments. Everything feeds on your choice on what thoughts to entertain in your mind. And when you already feel like crap, you will find every crap thing to support your theory.

Here’s where my editing comes in. I do this a ton. I even do this when I post publicly online. What you initially read may not be the finished product. But that’s life. Life is a process of editing to become more of that which you decide to be with your focus. You learn more as you go. You remember things and add them to your consciousness and even maybe into your 3D somewhere. I’m constantly coming back to myself and other people and adding onto what I offered before. If I’m mad, I’ll yell or not, and come back 5 years later to add what I forgot to tell you when we stopped talking. I may just choose to do this in my head as well, which a lot of us choose to do, and it’s hard when the record in your head is stuck in that groove. So, it takes a conscious effort to lift the needle off the record to move on, and not become DJ Jazzy Kari, and keep scratching the crap out of it when I’m playing my day out.

And so, we edit, we adjust, we add and subtract, we multiply and divide our thoughts according to our current circumstances. And the daily grind will put you in a funk of 40,000 years (yes, Michael Jackson’s thriller made a huge impact on me when I was in 4th grade) if you allow it to. The only way to start to change, is to choose at least one thing different than before. That’s it. That one simple action with a loving intention to change the way you see the world can change your world in an instant. You will feel the relief that is offered by not focusing on what hurt you in the past, and dragging it though to support your present activities.

I’m going to go now, and appreciate my dogs. They are hilarious, and extremely loving, and like Madge the manicurist would so diligently do to her clients when they came in for a manicure in the 70s, I’m going to most likely Palmolive the crap out of their paws happily, so I won’t be upset later on that my house is a disgusting muddy mess later on more so than it usually is. They will find themselves surprisingly “soaking in it”. And then they’ll have a choice to either go with it, or try to escape from my grasp, like Hazel May tried to pull yesterday. And both of the dogs ran in the house past the baby gate I put up with their muddy paws and their insanity. And then I had a choice, and I chose to yell and laugh, cause it was a ridiculous situation.

Choice is good. Edits can be made at every minute of every day. Don’t like what you established before? Edit it. Change it. Your life isn’t etched in stone. Do your part to change the way you think, and you will find that you will be happier in the doing. Edits are not always bad. I may choose to edit this and eliminate mentioning Moses and the 10 commandments. Yes, I will. 💕😎🙌

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: Past Aizawa/Mandalay

Word Count: 1,921 Words

Summary: Hitoshi and Katsuki's birthday.

Warnings: Period Mention, Menstruation Mention, Food Mention, Nightmare Mention, Death Mention, Cursing, Caps, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison   Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 7

6:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

pure: It's a birthday! That means birthday breakfasts are in order!

life is a nightmare: Kiyo made everyone yakisoba buns with enoki and I made soup dumplings to celebrate.

farmer toshi: You two are so sweet, thank you.

deku deck-you: Thanks, girls.

pure: No problem!

saviour: I will not be attending class today. I will not be leaving my room today.

feral cat dad: What's wrong?

saviour: Painful period. Dysphoria. Hate living.

feral cat dad: I'm sorry, kid. I'll tell Vlad you're dehydrated and have Nemuri take care of you, she'll know more than me, but I'll bring a hot water bottle, food, and some company for you in the meantime.

saviour: Thank you, Mr. Aizawa.

feral cat dad: I am the father collective here, it's only fair I parent my child.

8:30  AM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: I'm recording the classes for you so you don't miss anything, Ibara, dear.

saviour: Thank you, Seiko.

nat20: Not a problem, love. I don't want to see you falling behind when you don't deserve to. I mean, it's surely not your fault uterus' exist.

saviour: You're amazing.

nat20: I know.

12:45 PM

Existence Is A Prison

schrodinger better run: I'm bringing over lunch, Ibara.

saviour: You're all too nice to me. I shouldn't even be in bed still.

schrodinger better run: Ibara, honey, we're nice because we care about you. You deserve to rest this off and see when you feel better. There's no rushing yourself. I'm sure that, once you rest up a bit, Recovery Girl can help 'heal' the cramps or at least tone them down a bit.

saviour: Still, thank you. All of you.

2:04 PM

Existence Is A Prison

gay salt: I think this is hilarious, personally.

nat20: What's even happening over in 1-A, you guys have been yelling and all for like ten minutes.

gay salt: birthdayboysinbirthdayhats.jpg

gay salt: Shinsou had to come deliver something to Mr. Aizawa from Mr. Snipe's class and now everyone is questioning Kats and Hito if they're twins and Midoriya's trying to chill everyone out. Really, you should be here, Seiko.

nat20: They are twins. I mean, practically, yes, they are.

ranch flavored jello: I know, it's great. The best part is that everyone is in such a heated debate about it.

feral cat dad: I have no clue what's even happening but I'm not gonna stop this unless Katsuki or Hitoshi says something.

foil-mecha: ourclassrightnow.jpg

schrodinger better run: Todoroki, please. It's not that deep, man.

foil-mecha: I don't think he cares, honestly.

nat20: I heard more screaming. Vlad King is starting to get concerned.

foil-mecha: They said they are twins and Midoriya's trying to ask why Katsuki's mother cheated on his father. This is the funniest thing, honestly.

3:15 PM

Existence Is A Prison

gay salt: Okay, I found the 2006 First Year Sports Festival and I just need you all to see Mr. Aizawa as our age.

gay salt: younglankyaizawamidbattlewithtensei.jpg

foil-mecha: Mr. Aizawa, you were tiny.

feral cat dad: To be fair, I was an idiot kid and didn't eat well until like a week prior to that Sports Festival.

ranch flavored jello: I'll punt kick you, Dad.

feral cat dad: Yeah, yeah, I know. I started eating better after that, I promise.

gay salt: lankyaizawatakingdowntensei.jpg

nat20: Mr. Aizawa was a strong little stringbean.

feral cat dad: If you call me a stringbean again, I'll make you do garbage duty for a month.

nat20: That's normal, Father Collective.

feral cat dad: Curse these children being functional human beings.

President Megaphone: At least we know they clean up after each other and themselves.

President Megaphone: Plus, you were a stringbean, Shouta, so it's a fair statement.

deku deck-you: Wait, I just realized Mr. Aizawa told us he was divorced.

gay salt: Oh yeah, he did and nobody even questioned it!

ranch flavored jello: To be fair, we were busy introducing ourselves.

feral cat dad: Yeah, I was married for a while after high school. Maybe a year, I think.

President Megaphone: 10 months and 17 days from December 2010 to October 2011. I still think it's funny you didn't even spend one birthday married.

farmer toshi: Dad, what happened!?

feral cat dad: Well, you see, I had pressure put on me to get married to a girl I knew because we both weren't out yet as gay and lesbian, respectively, and we both realized during our marriage that it wasn't working so we went through a mutual divorce and are still friends.

President Megaphone: Yeah, Shouta and Sosaki are friends.

life is a nightmare: Shino Sosaki? Mandalay from the Wild Wild Pussycats?

feral cat dad: The one and only.

life is a nightmare; Wow.

9:52 PM

Existence Is A Prison

schrodinger better run: Dating sucks.

feral cat dad: Why, what's up, Pony?

schrodinger better run: My gf broke up with me because she realized I'm actually in Japan. I mean, I told her a hundred times but she never believed me that I was going international. for high school.

deku deck-you: Eh, the trash got rid of itself from what it sounds like.

schrodinger better run: I mean, I'm kind of happy because she never really liked me for more than just saying she was dating a cute girl but I also feel bad about being happy that we're broken up.

ranch flavored jello: Ice cream and cry?

schrodinger better run: Thank you, Toru, it's much appreciated.

2:26 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Hey, dad?

feral cat dad: Yes?

farmer toshi: Can I sleep in your room?

feral cat dad: Yeah, sure, come on. Don't let the cats out.

farmer toshi: You're not even gonna ask me why?

feral cat dad: Should it matter?

farmer toshi: Well, I don't think so. I just don't want to have another nightmare but usually the caregivers at the orphanage would ask for a good reason.

feral cat dad: Well, you don't need one with me. Just don't let the cats out is my only request. Ai has figured out how to open the kitchen door and will get lost on UA grounds again.

farmer toshi: Kumo is staring at me while I open the door.

feral cat dad: Yeah, he's like that. Just ignore him, focus more of keeping Ai from making a break for it.

farmer toshi: Alright.

11:04 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Alright, I was going through you kids' files during my free period and Tsunotori, your birthday is today.

schrodinger better run: Oh, I don't like celebrating my birthday. I haven't celebrated it since I was six.

feral cat dad: Why, what happened?

schrodinger better run: My cousin from my biological family made fun of my feet, we got in a fight, and I couldn't explain to defend myself so I got grounded and wasn't allowed to celebrate my birthday so I just haven't celebrated it since then.

feral cat dad: Is there still a day we can celebrate with you that isn't today?

schrodinger better run: I like celebrating my adoption date as my new birthday. October 7th.

feral cat dad: I'll put a reminder for that.

saviour: Wait, are you putting all of our birthdays as reminders?

feral cat dad: Perhaps.

7:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

foil-mecha: I'm going to the convenience store before school for breakfast in class because I want sandos and energy drinks. Anyone else want? Say yes.

feral  cat dad: YES.

foil-mecha: Are you okay? You responded in like one second.

feral cat dad: I'm just realizing I like someone and I'm suffering.

gay salt: Please.

nat20: Yes.

farmer toshi: Two redbulls and anything with egg, please.

saviour: Fruit if it's there.

pure: Yes.

schrodinger better run: Yes, I'm so hungry.

life is a nightmare: Ham is preferred, please and thank you.

ranch flavored jello: Yes, food.

deku deck-you: Yes, please.

foil-mecha: Everyone will receive redbulls and sandos.

8:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

foil-mecha: I got held up, there was a villain attack right outside the store when I got there. I'm with food and drink and on my way back.

feral cat dad: I've already written you a pass, it's taped to the wall just inside the gate, have fun delivering food to Hitoshi.

8:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Tokoyami is a god.

farmer toshi: tworedbullsandthreesandos.jpg

nat20: Wow, he likes you.

foil-mecha: Oh, I got three for everyone. I just grabbed a bunch so everyone can pick.

nat20: Be careful at 1b, Mr. Kan is one of those 'bring something for yourself, share it with everyone' type of teachers.

foil-mecha: And I'll tell him to fuck off because us dorm kids didn't eat breakfast this morning.

deku deck-you: Yeah, our poor stove is dead.

ranch flavored jello: It wasn't my fault! I promise! I was just cooking and it died!

feral cat dad: To be fair, it is old. I think that thing's been there since I was in UA.

8:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20 has started a video chat

[Tokoyami opening door and Vlad King stops teaching and stares at him]

Kid, you're not my student. Your class is down the hall, are you lost? -Unknown

Hey, Pony, Kiyo. Here, pick three each and a drink or two. -foil-mecha

Young man, you can't just waltz into my classroom and hand unsolicited food to only two students. -Unknown

[Kiyomi and Pony are shown grabbing their sandos and redbulls from the large bag Tokoyami came in with]

You're right, I'm not. Ibara, Kageya, Seiko, come get yours too. I found a cool one I think you'll like, Ibara. -foil-mecha

Oh? What is it? -saviour

Well, I heard you say you like apples and melon. I found you a sando with both. -foil-mecha

I'm in love with you. -saviour

Sure, yeah Get your food, I need to get to 1-A. -foil-mecha

You should be in there now! This isn't your class! -Unknown

Sir? Sir. I really don't care. I have a pass from Mr. Aizawa and I'm literally about to leave. Our oven broke in the dorms so none of us ate breakfast this morning. I went to get us all breakfast and got held up with a villain attack. Kindly, sir, I think even Nezu would be unhappy if even a single one of us hero course students weren't eating breakfast this close to the Sports Festival. So, you feel free to carry on your lesson. Let just the five of your students  eat their breakfast. I promise, it won't disrupt you further than  it has. -foil-mecha

Fine. -Unknown

nat20 has ended the video chat

gay salt: I love Tokoyami. I do.

foil-mecha: My mothers and fathers didn't raise a carpet, I don't exist to be stepped on by authority figures.

nat20: Thanks, Fumi. I'm starving.

foil-mecha: Anything for my friends.

ranch flavored: ALL HAIL FOOD GOD TOKOYAMI

feral cat dad: Bringer of Energy Drink, Keeper of the Sando.

gay salt: We all love you, Fumi.

foil-mecha: What a time to be alive, being adored by my peers and teacher AND getting to tell off an annoying teacher?

feral cat dad: God, yes, sando time. Gimme.

gay salt: aizawaeatingasandolikeaferalcat.jpg

nat20: Thanks, I'm scarred for life having witnessed Feralzawa.

farmer toshi: I love you, Fumi.

foil-mecha: Seems that's everyone's sentiment this morning.

farmer toshi: I'll get a crush, fucker, don't tempt me.

foil-mecha: Alright, alright.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust 

[steelandsalt]

PSD SOURCE

⸻  the heralds are announcing the arrival of ELENEI BARATHEON, known as the LADY of STORM’S END. you may have heard some tales of this TWENTY SIX year old, but the more well - informed tongues speak of them being COURAGEOUS & CAPABLE though sadly, they also passed on rumours of them being TEMPERMENTAL & SHORT SIGHTED. according to their mun, the bards are requested to play DON’T KILL MY VIBE by SIGRID when they enter the room. may the gods protect them in the years to come.

Quick Stats

Name: Elenei Baratheon Place of birth: Storm’s End Residence: Storm’s End Marital Status: Widowed Siblings: 3 brothers, 1 sister  Children: 1 son, Giovan, aged 4 Religion: Faith of the Seven

489 - 507 birth - aged 18

tw - premature birth

Elenei was born on the night of the worst storm of the year, two moons earlier than expected. As she came into the world, the wind howled, and the sea crashed into the rock that Storm’s End perched on. The severity of the storm recalled tales of the origin of the keep, of the sea and wind deities hammering The Stormlands for the return of their wayward daughter, whose blood flowed through Baratheon veins, and so she was named for Elenei, the mythical first storm queen. 

Few expected her to survive. She was premature and far smaller than a normal babe, but her cry was strong. It was early in life that she began defying expectations, and that would continue throughout her life. She was a noisy baby; even when she was content, she yelled and gurgled and made herself known. They should have realised that was an omen of things to come, for Elenei Baratheon had a will as unyielding as valyrian steel, and would never learn to be silent. 

Shrieking babe became wild toddler, wild toddler became feral child. The fourth of five eventual children, and a younger daughter, she was fortunate that her elder siblings born the burden of responsibility when it came to the furtherment of their house. There were expectations on her, to be sure, but for the most part, she was afforded a sense of leniency - and for every inch of freedom they granted her, Elenei took a mile. To anybody who worked in Storm’s End, Elenei was the bane of their existence. She terrorised the servants, the gardeners, the cooks, the squires. Nobody was safe from her unique brand of mischief, and though some were as fond of her as her father was, others would curse her name to delighted laughs from the noble brat.

The worst of her behaviour was reserved for the Septas who came to educate her. it was to their frustration that they realised that Elenei was not an incompetent student - she had a head for figures and a remarkable memory for history, having memorised a great number of houses, sigils and words before her seventh name day, though she didn’t have the patience for needlepoint, and her musical talents left a lot to be desired. However, it became very clear that her lessons bored her, and even attempts to introduce her to more advanced concepts were met with utter disinterest. 

Where she her attention lay was in all things physical. She was always short for her age, growing to stand at five foot two in her adulthood, but she was lithe and nimble, and she moved with a fluid grace that one would not expect from a girl with so much chaos in her soul. She could dance better than anyone, and rode a horse like she was half-centaur. She can hunt, she can climb, and she is fast, and of that she is most proud. Whether because of her strong will, or because her father found it necessary for his children to learn to defend themselves, she was allowed to hone her skill with a blade. She has trained hard at weaponry, can throw a knife with great accuracy at 100 paces and has grown used to the weight of a sword in her hand. She fights with two now, light, but sharp blades clutched in either hand. Though she has never tasted battle, she is good, more than capable of holding her own. She knows that, though strong for her size, she cannot win a fight on strength and force alone, and so relies on her agility and speed to win, a tactic that serves her well. 

507 - 510 aged 18 - 21

tw - slut shaming

It was perhaps her boisterous nature that led her to seek out the company of the various boys who visited Strom’s End, be they knights or the sons of visiting lords who made regular appearances. She had become incredibly hedonistic, stoked by the wildness in her nature. She’d grown to be a drinker, and a gambler, and intensely passionate in her relationships with others. Her choice of company led to her developing a certain reputation unbefitting of a girl of her stature in the world. It became imperative to marry her off, lest her chances be ruined - either by hearsay and gossip, or because the prospect of an indiscrete birth of a bastard was a real concern. 

What didn’t help was that she had grown to ask questions. Despite her upbringing, Elenei had become a rather informal woman, somebody who thought little of taking time to speak with everyone, whether they be an esteemed member of a great house or a member of the small folk. It was only then that her shrewd mind began to think critically about the way her family ruled. Under the veneer of her vivacity lay a compassionate soul, and so she returned to the Ruling Lord, confronting him with the hard truth of how his people felt. A few weeks after that, on her twenty-first name day, her betrothal was announced - she was to marry into a powerful magister family in Lys, the furthest place she could possible be sent. 

510 - 513

aged 21 to 24

tw - death, parent and child separation

Vehemently opposed to her marriage at first, Elenei was surprised to find a friend of her husband. A progressive man, he was more than willing to give her an insight into politics, and allow her to help him in his duties. Far away from the problems growing in the Stormlands, Elenei grew happy in her role, and within a year of her marriage, had given birth to a son, Giovan. Whilst she and her husband were not in love, they were content together, but their relative peace did not last long. Less than two years after the wedding, a short, unexpected illness saw her husband dead, and Elenei a widow. 

She intended to stay in Lys, to be close to her son and help to raise him, but unfortunately, her plans were not to come to be. Her husband’s family were wary of how much influence she may come to wield over the boy, wanting to mould him in their own image as a future representative of their will. And so, kicking and screaming, she was returned to The Stormlands, to her ancestral home, where she could be remarried once more. 

513 - 515 (present day)

aged 24 to 26

For the first few weeks she was returned home, Elenei was even wilder than anybody remembered, determined to return to Lys, or have her son brought to her. whispers of madness began to circulate, however, before they could fully take root and spread, a startling realisation rocked her to her core, jolting her back to her senses. Things in The Stormlands were even worse than when she left - and despite her deep longing to be reunited with her child, there were matters at home that needed her attention more. 

Despite her concerns earlier in life, Elenei had always been proud of her family and lineage, and despite her own critique of their methods, unwaveringly loyal. With the rebellion, that loyalty could continue no longer. Even though it failed, she found that she could not bring herself to side with her brother, not with so many suffering. Whilst yet to voice her opinions out loud to her family, she’s quietly made enquiries behind the scenes. With the recent assassination attempt, she’s been further split between her beliefs and her family - but if she’s involved, surely she can help prevent further attempts on his life, whilst wielding whatever influence she could behind the scenes. 

Misc

The fire in her can be a beautiful thing, warm and bright and leaving her humming with an energy that comes from deep within her, a passion and a zest for life that can’t be touched. She makes a warm and loving friend, but behind that is a danger. She can scorch hot enough to burn, and is prone to jealousy and quick to anger. The temper of Elenei Baratheon is legendary, and once you have fallen out of your favour, she will hold a grudge that she may never relinquish, her stubborn nature leaving her unforgiving, even long after she has forgotten why she was ever angry. 

Many who knew her before Lys recall a wild, passionate and carefree girl, but the tragedy of losing her son, and the stress of the prospect of losing the rest of her family weighs on her heavily. Those who know her best will note how her smile does not reach her eyes any longer, how the lines of a permanent frown seem etched between her brows, and how melancholy seems to hang over her when it seems that nobody is looking. 

The only place that provides calm to her soul any longer is the ocean. Something about the water soothes her, and the spray on her face and the water lapping at her ankles grounds her when things get overwhelming. In times of trouble, she can most often be found roaming along the shore, utterly alone. 

Wanted connections

Former Lovers - From the ages of 18 to 21, Elenei was more indiscrete than she should have been, and had taken more than one man to bed. I would imagine they would be on friendly terms still, but this is totally up for negotiation [0/3]

Close confidant - the one person who truly knows everything that is plaguing her, that she shares everything with without fear of repercussion [0/1]

Rival - For whatever reason, they’ve never gotten along, and this person knows the brunt of Elenei’s temper better than anybody [0/1]

Potential Betrothed - whether by her family’s devising, or her own political moves, they are in the early stages of negotiating a betrothal contract. I would imagine there’s no real emotion here, but whether there’s an attraction or anything develops for good or bad in the future can be plotted [0/1]

[xparadisexlostx]

So Idk what possessed me to write this. I wrote it all in one go and it is in desperate need of a proof read and probably and edit... but I doubt I’ll ever do that lol. I’m tired and I’m getting a headache and I still have drafts to work on, so I’m just gonna post it before I lose confidence and hide it like the many, many other drabbles I’ve never posted.

I don’t know why I wanted to write this in first person. That usually annoys me, but for some reason it just sounded right in this case.

So this drabble is primarily about Beck and Cora, how they meet, and the relationship they have. Obviously I did a LOT, if not too much, condensing because otherwise this never would have ended. 

For context, Cora is Beck’s sort of adopted mom. She his a centuries old witch who was possessed, years ago by a spirit of hospitality. Over time the two merged into one being and that is why she’s pretty much immortal. Because of what she was she was made an outcast by her own people, the clan of the Grey Owls. Here is her face claim. 

_____________________________________________

A long life makes you accustomed to loss. You learn people are better at a distance. Far enough away that you can’t really make out their faces, and their voices turn to echoes by the time they’re in your ears. Any closer than that and you risk the pain that comes with a proper meeting. I found that out the hard way when Hattie passed. 

It was agonizingly slow. At first she just needed a bit of help with getting up after a long day in the garden. And then she couldn’t go as far on our evening walks. Eventually she couldn’t make it out to tend the flowers that she loved so dearly, and she forgot the names of the dairy goats we’d raised by hand and bottle. And when I saw Death come peacefully across the border of the Living Dream, shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight and invisible to my love, I lifted her up in my arms and carried her out to the fields of flowers. She didn’t remember my name, but she held me close to her with what dwindling strength remained in her arms, and laid her head on my heart while I whispered a silent goodbye.

We had never had any children. Back then we only escaped the scandal of being together by living on my family’s land and growing or making most of what we needed. People in the towns whispered, but they let us be so long as we didn’t make too much noise. That wouldn’t have been any life for a child. Children need community, friends, and more love than just two mothers could bring them. The mortals would have never accepted a child of ours, and the witches had cast me out years before on account of what I was---what I am.

I buried Hattie in the flowerbed, and I left my home after that. The place I had been made, where I had settled for three centuries, had nothing to give me but pain. Even England reminded me all too much of what I had lost. I was alone, and I imagined that somewhere else I could find a place where I was content with that once again.

And I did. In a cottage deep in the Sierra Nevada mountains, I found the peace that had evaded me for so long. People stopped by in the occasional way: lost travelers, rapscallion youths, the occasional farmer looking for good dairy stock. That was the way for well over a hundred years. It wasn’t until the storm of ‘01 that it all changed, that I noticed the pie I was cooling on the windowsill was gone, and there was only a small muddy handprint in its place.

In the afterglow of a lightning strike I saw him there. A great, hulking bear, tall as the horizon, pale as a fresh pressed bedsheet, illuminated against the black sky. On his head were horns made of trees, and his claws were gnarled roots. On his back he carried a forest with a heart-tree that glowed gold. My brother, older than me by millenia, scarcely seen but ever familiar, always present. He looked from me to the barn, and stared, transfixed, by whatever he saw, and then he was gone.

I pulled on a raincoat and stepped into my boots, and raced across the yard to the shelter of the barn. The goats stirred in their pen, and the chickens let out a low squawk of protest as the building flooded with light. I found my pie in the back stall and a trail of blueberry pawprints leading away from it and into a pile of hay, where I found a small, trembling kit, little enough to fit in my one hand.

She shook like a leaf, whining up a terrible storm, as I tucked her beneath my coat and took her into the house. The promise of a proper meal convinced her to turn back into the girl I already knew she was, but she still shook so hard that she lost half of every bite she tried to take. I might have scolded anyone else for stealing, but she was so slight, too small and slender for a girl her age, and she was covered in mud and briars and sticks that matted in her golden hair. And when I put her in the tub to scrub her clean I saw the bruises and the cuts that no branch had inflicted. 

Looking back on that night I never had the chance to hold her at arm’s length. From the moment I plucked her out of the hay and pressed her to my heart, she was mine. I couldn’t keep her. The Fox Bitch wouldn’t allow it. And no one would listen to me when I told them of the heinous crimes Elea Tandy was committing against her own kin. No one cared when I complained of the local coven teachers casting her out. 

I made myself content with what I could have, and I taught her what an old witch could when she escaped that awful house and made her way through the forest to me. I showed her how to sew up a skirt as well as a wound, and taught her what the woods had to offer when her mother denied her supper. When she couldn’t read my spellbooks I taught her songs and rhythms to help her remember words and order. How to milk a goat, how to shear a sheep, how to tie a good and proper knot, and how to cook anything you found or caught. Our time together didn’t always last long, and when she left I felt it like a stab to the heart, but she was mine. The baby Hattie and I never got to have, filled with more kindness and curiosity and life than anyone else I had ever met.

And I ought to have known by the sight of my Brother what she was, and that she could not belong to me, or to anyone forever, but it wasn’t until months later, when I saw him again, watching her ride through the woods with a wild abandon, that I understood. 

Feral. A term that makes every parent clutch her pearls and shiver in fear, even though they barely know what it means. Feral witches are born to leave. They are only a brief bridge between the Dream Realm and the physical, destined to merge once more with the Nature Spirit from which they came. 

She was not mine to keep, but I held on.

I held on in agony as she ran off, desperate for freedom and adventure and a respite from the violence of her home. I smothered her in loving arms every time she came back. But she came back less and less. It was too dangerous, and every time she risked us both. I told her I didn’t care, and that I wasn’t afraid of Elea Tandy… but I knew that she was.

She was right to be.

Even I had never imagined Elea could be so vile and twisted as to kill a familiar. And to make a child watch… It turns my gut even to think of it now. I thought it would be the death of her, and it likely would have been if her brother hadn’t turned on their mother himself. He tried to bring her back to life, and so did I. But there was nothing but fathomless despair behind those blue eyes. I finally had her safe beneath my roof, and she was dying in my arms just like Hattie had. No amount of love could ever replace what she had lost when Dawnbreaker had been hanged before her eyes.

After ages of lifelessness, she eventually became restless in her grief, and I imagined I was witnessing her end. I put her in my car and drove her as deep into the wilderness as I could, and when I wrapped my arms around her I said that same silent goodbye. I barely made it home before my own sorrow and anger threatened to drown me. She was too young, I thought, and how unfair it was that she should die having tasted so little happiness, having felt so few kind touches. Brother would care for her upon her return, but why had he ever allowed her to come from the womb of that wretched woman? I had gifted her all the love that I could, and it didn’t feel like nearly enough in the face of all the pain she had been put through.

I hated him for that. Perhaps I still do.

I left California the same way I left England, distraught, and purchased new land on the secluded shores of Lake Erie. I told no one where I went, and no one would have ever asked. 

When I saw the golden horse upon my lawn some years later I thought it was a reflection in the Living Dream, a spirit of what once was lingering, but the girl upon its back was no longer a child. Even at a distance, even after all those years, I knew her face, and when she ran into my arms I held her tighter than I ever had before. 

She was alive and more vibrant than I’d ever seen her---all golden curls and smiles and a wild glint in her eye. We rode horses on the shoreline and sang foolish songs around a campfire. She told me stories of where she had been and everything she’d seen as she wove crowns from wildflowers. The next evening she showed me the scars where the mountain lion had nearly ripped her life away, and then demonstrated her new form with such ease that I felt my knees go weak. Even at such a young age the power swelled around her.

Feral. The very thing that had made other witches reject her had allowed her to thrive. In the wilds she had found the peace and happiness that others had so cruelly robbed her of. And I felt a pride blossom in me that I’d never felt before.

She left me again, as I knew she would, as was her nature, but this time I didn’t feel grief. For as long as she was on this Earth, she would return to me. That much I was certain. And that much has always been proven true.

Now, without the fear of her mother’s viciousness, she comes to me more frequently, and she can linger in my house as long as her wild spirit will allow. Our time together isn’t so rare… and yet I know that it is still brief. 

Each visit I see the spirit grow within her, each year the magic grows stronger. It pulls in more animals, and it bends nature around her without her even noticing it. 

She doesn’t see my Brother when she is sitting upon her golden stallion, basking in the sun as it cuts through the forest branches, but I think she feels him. As the animals gather all around her and play like newborn lambs, as she feels the embrace of the woods around her, I think she feels him watching. Her eyes glisten and she smiles with a fondness that breaks my heart. I think that if she just takes one step she will be lost to me forever.

I call her name when she raises her hand to touch what she cannot see, and with the slowness of a drunkard she blinks her eyes. When she looks back at me in those moments I know she can see across the centuries. She knows what I am. 

Again I call her name. It’s selfish, maybe, to want to hold onto her. Perhaps I do nothing but hold her back. But she smiles at me, and the mist evaporates from her eyes to reveal that mischievous sparkle.

“Come away from there, girl.” I say, beaconing her back toward the house with a wave of my hand and I watch my Brother’s eyes with unbecoming smugness as she presses her golden stallion forward and exclaims “‘Race ya!’” as she charges back home.

[immabethehero]

Schneeplestein Apparently Has a Heart

The good doctor’s birthday is here and of course I wrote a story! Just warning, this story is quite dark. Read the trigger warnings below.

TW: Suicide attempt by gunshot (not seen, just implied), suicidal thoughts and words, extreme distress, minor violence, blood mentioned.

For the short amount of time that Jackieboy Man and Marvin the Magnificent have lived with Dr. Henrik Nicholas von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, they have learned a few important lessons, or rules:

NEVER, under any circumstances, touch the top left cupboard on the outside of the kitchen opening. That’s where Schneep’s coffee supply is, and if you touch it, even ONCE, Schneep will be out for your blood.

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you mention Schneep’s wife, Lisette Schneeplestein. Apparently, the French brunette whom Schneep has been married to for the past 7 years has fucked off (Schneep’s words) back to France with her tennis instructor, Rick, short for Ricardo (Italian, apparently) and taken their two daughters with her. (Schneep has cleaned out Lisette and the girls’ rooms, and all the belongings they have left behind, in their efforts to leave so quickly, are packed away in storage containers in the garage. Schneep has yet to mail them to Lisette’s new address.)

DO NOT wake Schneep earlier than 10 AM in the morning if it’s his one day off. Despite having an early bird’s job, Schneep is not a morning person. Another reason why Schneep is dependent on coffee.

UNLESS it is an emergency, no one but Schneep is allowed in his office. As there are so many things to keep track of, and so many papers that could easily be misplaced, it is best not to touch, or even go inside the office, lest you want to throw the doctor off his game or have the doctor throw you off a cliff.

Despite these four unspoken yet very specific rules, Marvin and Jackie have learned one more this past month: despite the doctor’s arrogant, haughty, snappy, disgusting, even FERAL demeanour, he truly is a good person.

It just took a new ego to show them that.

March 30th, 2017. Schneep’s mail has been unceremoniously thrown onto the dining room table. Schneep’s hands, long and graceful, slide through the envelopes and fliers, organizing them into piles, from taxes and business inquiries to subscriptions and sales.

Jackie lazily eats his cereal, watching Schneep sort through the mail like a madman. Geez, just how popular is this guy?! It’s almost as wild as Jack’s mail. At least there’s more interesting stuff for Jack... drawings, letters of encouragement and thanks, even the rare crocheted or sculpted gift.

Schneep freezes when he comes across a particular letter, one with a cutesy pin cupcake logo. His eyes grow solemn as he picks it up and shakily opens it. Jackie cocks his head.

“Something wrong, doctor?” he asks lightly.

Schneep looks up. “Hm? Oh!” He sighs. “It’s from a baking class Sophia and I used to take together. Lisette had insisted I learn how to cook as well, so it wouldn’t always be her making the meals, and she figured it would be good bonding for me and Sophia. Soph loved those classes. We’d learn all sorts of fascinating recipes and bring the results home. They were fun, and very sweet.”

Jackie nods seriously. He knows he should leave it there, but something’s confusing him. “It’s been quite a few months since you stopped going. Why are they sending you stuff now?”

Schneep unfolds the letter. As he reads it, his eyes widen and a smile begins curling at his lips.

Somehow, that only makes more questions. “What…?”

“It’s not the company themself, it’s Chase! He was a friend from the classes! I haven’t spoken to him in forever! He’s such a lovely person, it’d be nice to see him again!” Schneep grabs his phone and hastily types in the number at the bottom of the letter. He squeals and runs off, like a teenager who just got a text from their crush.

The letter lies on the table, open for all to read. Jackie knows better than to pry into other people’s lives, but this letter is wide open, and it’s not like Schneep needs to know, so the superhero leans over and reads.

Hey Henrik,

This is probably weird to get, but I lost your phone number and I don’t know what your address is, so I asked the dudes at the baking class if I could send a letter to you via their services.

It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I thought I’d better check in and see how you’re doing, see how bachelor life is treating you. Stacy and the kids miss seeing you as well. I wanna talk to you again.

My cell is #1273-545-8903.

Hope to see you soon!

Chase Brody

Chase Brody. That sounds like an American to Jackie’s ears. He does seem like a good person, if Schneep’s reaction wasn’t enough. He must have been a friend for Schneep when the doctor went through his divorce.

The name itself sounds familiar, like a local celebrity or something. Jackie makes a mental note to look it up later. He leans back and finishes his cereal just as Schneep comes back, holding his phone out. Marvin finally emerges, his green hair resembling a rat’s nest, and no mask. Jackie takes pride in the fact that Marvin now feels comfortable enough to show his face in front of Schneep and Jackie.

“Well, change of plans, I won’t be able to come home in time for dinner with you guys,” Schneep announces. Jackie nods.

“Wait what? Why?” Marvin slurs, slumping down at the dining room table.

“I’m going to see Chase after my shift today. We agreed to meet in the park,” Schneep explains curtly, and leaves.

“Did I miss something?” Marvin asks, turning to Jackie. Jackie nods down to the letter. Marvin leans over to read, only for the letter to be snatched up by the doctor.

“Who said you could go through my stuff?!” Schneep snapped. He stormed off, letter clutched firmly in his hand. Marvin sneers at Jackie, who only shrugs and winks. The magician rolls his eyes, but he understands. A shrug and a wink means I’ll tell you later.

Schneep throws on his brown coat and grabs his bag. “Have a nice day, boys. If I don’t see you later tonight, sweet dreams and I’ll see you in the morning.” He flies out, coat flapping behind him.

“He’s gotta show me how he rocks an overcoat so well. I’m jealous of the way he holds himself. So professional,” Marvin remarks. He quickly turns to Jackie. “Spill the tea.”

“Schneep’s meeting an old friend from a baking class he used to take with his daughter,” Jackie says. “His name is Chase Brody. The name sounds so familiar to me, and I don’t know why.”

“Look it up on your phone,” Marvin suggests. Jackie does just that.

Immediately, Wikipedia comes to the egos’ rescue. Chase Brody, (born April 11th, 1988)  is an American-Irish Youtuber who is best known for his Youtube channel, Bro Average. As of February 2017, his channel has over 20 million views and over 10 million subscribers.

“Oh yeah, the trickshot vlogger!” Jackie says. “I like watching his stuff, he’s a funny dude.”

Marvin nods. “He must have kids as well.  He wouldn’t be taking classes if he didn’t.”

Jackie scrolls down to Personal Life. “‘Chase is married to Stacy Matthews, and they have three children as of 2017, two biological twins, and one recently adopted daughter.’” The selfie provided shows a man with fair skin and bright blue eyes standing next to a red-headed lady doing a duckface.

“Hm. Sounds like he’s living the good life,” Marvin says. “A well-paid job, a nice family, a happy life.”

Boy, is he wrong.

At 5 PM exactly, Schneep sits at the bench by the great oak tree, waiting for Chase. He wraps his blue and navy scarf tighter around his neck as a cool breeze whisks by. Despite what the weather people promised, Athlone is nowhere near warm, despite it being spring. He examines the park-goers who walk by, picking up on every accident that could occur.

Parents swinging their child up and down: a broken arm, arms could pull out of their sockets, or the child could fall on their head and get a concussion. Or worse, permanent brain injuries.

Kids climbing trees: Another chance to fall and hit their tiny heads and sustain brain damage, if not that, broken limbs and splinters.

Teenagers skateboarding: more broken bones and limbs, but at least SOME are smart enough to put pads and helmets on. Others have no chance of recovering fully from brain damage or concussions should they fall on their heads-

“Henrik!” Henrik snaps to life and looks around. A man wearing a puffy black jacket, torn jeans and a snapback with a pink skull on it runs over to him. Schneep stands up.

“Chase Brody! Wie geht es dir mein freund?” Schneep cries out in delight, holding his arms out. Chase happily throws himself into them.

“I’m doing as well as I can, at least. It’s so good to see your face,” Chase sighs. He nuzzles Henrik’s hair, taking in the sanitizer and mint smell he’s gotten used to. “I’ve missed you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Schneep says. “Come, sit down next to me! Tell me how things have been.  How are Stacy and your kids? Has Chloe adjusted to the new timezone yet?” Chloe is Chase’s recently adopted daughter from China. Schneep’s last visit with the Brody’s involved meeting her.

Chase’s smile fades and he sits down next to Schneep. “Um…”

Schneep’s stomach sinks. “That’s never good. What happened? Who died?!”

“Calm down, Henrik!” Chase exclaims. “No one died! Everyone’s fine. Chloe’s adjusted quite nicely.”

“Then why do you look so sad?!” Schneep cries.

Chase fidgets with his jacket zipper, mumbling incomprehensibly. Henrik leans closer. “Didn’t catch that.”

“StacyandIaregettingadivorce,” Chase whispers. Schneep’s stomach flips and sinks.

“What?”

“Stacy and I are getting divorced,” Chase repeats, louder now. “She said she still loves me, but not quite in a… romantic way, I guess. She wants us to just be friends.”

“Well, at least she still wants to be on friendly terms, I guess!” Schneep says. “Still, I can’t believe it… you two were such a sweet couple… so in love…”

“There’s another reason why she wants a divorce,” Chase admits. Schneep’s eyes turn wide as saucers.

“She’s seeing someone. An old friend from high school. I’ve seen her texts,” Chase says. He scrunches up the end of his shirt, nose wrinkling. Schneep hears him sniff.

“I don’t know how long it’s gone on… and I know she didn’t mean to… but still…” Chase finally looks up, eyes tearing. “How could she do that? I would have been okay with it! Maybe. I don’t know!” Chase buries his face in his hands.

Schneep pats Chase’s shoulder gently. He can’t believe Stacy cheated! She and Chase were such a romantic couple! They seemed so happy! Why would Stacy throw that all away for some whore? “What a bitch…”

Chase suddenly whacks Schneep’s hand off, eyes fierce. “Don’t call her that! It’s not like that!  At least she still wants me in her life! She’s not like Lisette!” An awkward silence fills the air.

Chase gasps. “Henrik, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way-”

“Oh!” Schneep cries. “It’s fine! It’s no big deal!” Yeah, that was a low blow, but he would rather Chase doesn’t end up like him: cranky, alienating, friendless, alone. He needs a friend more than ever.

“No it’s not, I just sunk really low! You must be furious-”

“I’m not, I promise!” He’s not, surprisingly. Is this growth?! What the fuck?!

“I need to control myself better. I’m a grownup, for fuck’s sake, I should know better…” Chase moans, burrowing his head in his hands again.

“Chase!” Schneep exclaims. “You mustn’t beat yourself up like that! You’re one of my very best friends, which isn’t saying much because I don’t have any, but still! You have to be one of the nicest people I know! You’re anything but a dick!”

“I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m not, I swear !” Schneep says.

“I’m sorry, Henrik, I really am,” Chase says.

“I forgive you,” Schneep says, and means it. “I’m serious.”

“I should go,” Chase decides, standing. Schneep gets up as well.

“What? No! I’m not mad!” he protests.

“It’s my turn to pick the kids up,” Chase snaps. “I’ll see you around, Henrik. Sorry I can’t stay long.” He briskly runs off.

Schneeplestein yells and kicks the bench. “FUCK! FUCK! AAAHHH!!!”

Other park visitors turn in confusion, watching the strange man kick the bench and scream.

Schneep freezes when he notices everyone staring at him. He storms back to his car, slams the door shut and continues his screaming.

Once Schneep has finished “releasing his anger” (Jackie’s words, not his) he “reflects on the situation” (also Jackie’s words). What could he do to make Chase feel better?

He stays in the car for an hour, letting the world pass by as he thinks. By the time the sun has set, he has an idea.

Jackie and Marvin glare at each other from across the hall. Sirius the cat has hidden, choosing not to get involved. The little pegs in the cribbage board are neck-in-neck, both pegs exactly 4 steps away from the end hole. The egos stare at their cards.

“Four,” Jackie announces, putting the card down.

“Fourteen,” Marvin says.

The door flies open and Schneep rushes in, hair windswept and out of breath. “Where’s Jack?!” he demands.

“Out in his universe,” Jackie responds. “Fifteen for two!” He puts down an ace.

“Sixteen for two!” Marvin slams the ace down, looking triumphant. Jackie flips him off.

“When will he visit?!” Schneep questions.

“When he wishes,” Jackie responds. “Twenty-five!”

“How can I contact him?!”

“Why are you so interested?!” Marvin asks. “Thirty-one, bitch!” He flips Jackie off.

“I have a request for him!” Schneep responds curtly. 

“What kind?” Jackie asks.

“It’s for a friend,” Schneep brushes him off, heading to his lab.

“Chase Brody?” Marvin guesses. Jackie kicks him.

Schneep turns around. “What did you say?”

Marvin gulps. “You left your letter on the table for me to read. I was fast enough to catch the gist before you snatched it up. So how is Chase Brody?”

Schneep growls softly and walks back to the table. Marvin sits up with his head held high, bracing himself for the punishment. No matter what Schneep does, slugging, kicking, ruining his hair, the magician can take it.  He’s been through worse.

To Marvin and Jackie’s surprise, Schneep pulls up a chair and sits down. The doctor takes a deep breath. “Chase Brody is divorcing his wife. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Jackie and Marvin nod in understanding. “That’s sad to hear,” Jackie remarks, solemnly.

“But how’s talking to Jack going to help?” Marvin queries.

“I want him to make a video for Chase,” Schneep says. “If this so-called community exists, I want to see them show their love for Chase! It’s the least he deserves!”

Marvin and Jackie catch each other’s gaze. Schneep glares at Jackie expectantly.

“Well? You’ve lived with Jack the longest. How do you contact him?!” Schneep demands.

“I have his number in case of emergencies, but I’ve never had a reason to call him! I don’t even know if he’s available,” Jackie explains.

“He has to be.  What else does a man who plays video games for a living do?!” Schneep snaps, incredulous. “It’s not like he has to be places or anything!” He looms over Jackie, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. Jackie nearly topples out of his chair.

“I guess I could give it a shot,” the superhero mumbles.

Schneep squeals in delight and wraps his arms tightly around Jackie in what Jackie assumes to be a hug. The superhero pats the doctor’s arms, taken aback by his strength.

After a few sickeningly sweet seconds, Marvin pipes up, “Uh, doc? I think Jackie needs to be able to breathe in order to call Jack.”

Sheepishly, Schneeplestein lets Jackie go. The superhero gulps in big gasps of air, before grabbing his phone and dialing Jack’s number.

A day later, Jack McLoughlin sits at the egos’ dining room table, chomping away on mashed potatoes and a juicy steak.

“My goodness, you never told me what a good chef you were, Schneep!” he sighs in ecstasy.

Schneep bows his head, face glowing red. Jackie raises an eyebrow. Schneep almost NEVER blushes when given a compliment. It’s strange to see the doctor act so shy and humble around someone, especially Jack. It feels like only yesterday Schneep was bombarding Jack with questions about where he came from and how the alternate universe worked. Since that day, Jack has quickly risen to become one of Schneep’s favourite people on the planet. Not that Jackie is jealous or anything…

“Just a little recipe I learned for my wife…” Schneep mutters, playing with the end of his lab coat. Across the table, Marvin snickers lightly, watching the doctor fumble for words. Finally, some entertainment!

“So, what was the call for?” Jack asks. “Just wanted to say hi?” His expression darkens. “Is it Anti? What did he do?!”

“It’s not Anti.  We haven’t heard from him for a while!” Jackie says. Jack sighs in relief.

“I mean, I know I made that video for PAX and all but I just wanted to make sure,” Jack says.

“You made an Anti video for PAX?!” Marvin cries. “Why?”

“Because the fans would enjoy it! Also because I was running out of ideas for what to do for an opening,” Jack admits. “It just seemed like the right amount of fun and originality without being too over the top!”

“When is Anti not over the top?” Jackie scoffs. That earns a laugh from the others.

“Actually, it’s Schneep who has a question for you,” Marvin says.

Jack turns to Schneeplestein. Schneep’s smile disappears. He looks around the table, watching everyone’s gaze. He grins nervously at Jack.

“Could I ask you in private? This stuff… it is… personal.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” Jack says, standing up. Schneep follows after him.

In the upstairs hallway, Schneep spills everything. He explains who Chase is, what’s going on in his life, and how he believes making Chase an ego could help his situation.

“Make another ego? Oh god, I’m having enough trouble managing you all right now,” Jack admits.

“All you have to do is make one video. The fans can do the rest,” Schneep presses.

“How?”

“By showing their love for Chase! He’s a funny and sweet guy! Your fans would love him!”

“How will the community’s love help a man struggling with a divorce?” Jack questions.

“Their love will lift his spirits and he will feel more confident and happy! You said you noticed a difference in us after the community made content of us! If that is really true, then I want to see them show their love for Chase. It’s the least he deserves!”

Jack is silent, contemplating the pros and cons. Finally, he sighs and says, “Can you show me what he usually does?”

Schneep types something into his phone. He logs onto Youtube and types a channel name into the search bar. Bro Average.

“Bro Average? Is that a parody of Dude Perfect?” Jack asks, chuckling.

“Well, it’s because there’s only one person performing every stunt, and because it’s less... professional than the other channel,” Schneep explains. “For example-”

The video shows Chase at a park, holding a Nerf gun and wearing a goofy grin. “Sup, guys! I’m Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!” He shoots a nerf dart off-screen, only for it to crash into something, invoking a cat screech. Chase pretends to be startled.

It flashes forward to Chase in a tree. “This one’s called, ‘Multitasking’!” He hangs off a branch while trying to knock over six cups stacked up on each other with darts. Jack can’t stop snickering at Chase’s antics, as he wobbles and threatens to lose his balance. Chase yelps and squeals, and a few times, swearing can be heard, though it’s censored by loud beeps. Finally, Chase hits his target, just as the branch snaps. Chase whoops with glee as he crashes onto the ground, the branch smacking into his head. His cameraman runs over to him, worried, but Chase is rolling on the ground in laughter as tears run down his face.

“He is not nearly as good as the professionals, but his humour and authenticness bring in the fans,” Schneep says, smiling.

“He sounds like a blast!” Jack takes the phone and begins to skim through Chase’s videos. “I bet I could make something work! I’ll borrow an office space, bring a couple friends and film a few shots! Can’t be that hard!”

“So you will do it?!” Schneep cries.

“Absolutely! Give me a couple days and it will be ready!”

Schneep cheers and engulfs Jack in a bear hug. Jack laughs and pats his friend’s back. It’s nice to see the doctor open up at last to his new roommates and creator, and so quickly, as well. Jack decides Schneep can be rewarded for his good nature by granting his wish and helping out a new friend.

A few weeks pass. Schneeplestein schedules more visits with Chase. The two fathers laugh and chat, learning more about each other and discussing whatever they please without the worry of kids hearing. Schneep feels his spirits lift whenever he sees Chase’s snapback and hears his cheerful voice.

In the night, a familiar sensation returns to the egos’ dreams. Sounds of a Nerf gun, kids laughing and on the rare occasion, a man crying fills the egos’ heads as they sleep. Schneep feels his heart break when he hears Chase’s cries. He hopes this video will help Chase. It has to.

April 11th, 2017. The egos are gathered around the dining room table, Jack’s Youtube account open on his laptop. 

Jack idly sits at the centre, waiting for Schneep to arrive with Chase. Marvin and Jackie play another round of cribbage, and this time Jackie seems to be way ahead on the board, much to the magician’s dismay.

“I’m going to be skunked! I hate this game so fucking much!” Marvin gripes, as he receives two points for his math efforts.

Jackie snickers as he counts his cards. “This takes both luck and skill. You’re a fast learner, Marv.  I’m sure you’ll pull through soon.”

“Not soon enough,” grumbles Marvin as Jackie moves his peg 16 points.

The door opens and Schneep walks in with Chase Brody right behind him. Compared to the laughing man with the warm aura in Google Images, this Chase looks cold and kind of grumpy.

“Chase, this is Jack McLoughlin, our ‘creator’ and a wonderful man,” Schneep introduces. Jack awkwardly holds his hand out for a shake. Even though he’s seen versions of himself several times this past year, it’s still rather unnerving to be given death stares by himself but with yellow hair, snapback and a fair share of freckles.

“Jack, this is Chase Brody, your newest ego and the face of Bro Average!” Schneep continues. Chase raises an eyebrow.

“Ego? Like alter ego?” Chase turns to the others, and realizes that they share the same hair and face. “Oh... my... dog. Am I a fictional character?! Is this a character intervention with the narrator?! Whatever happened, I promise, I didn’t do it! Sally encouraged me to eat the worm!” Chase kneels before Jack, cowering and whimpering.

Jack chuckles nervously. “Relax, Chase! Technically, you are a fictional character-” Chase shrieks in alarm.

“But only in another universe. You’re very much a real person in this one,” Schneep concludes, helping Chase up by the arm. Chase shakes the doctor off and Schneep tries his best to hide his hurt.

“To put it simply, some of the videos on my channel don’t exist in this universe. This is because they’re about you… egos,” Jack recites. “You’re the most recent ego, however, your video and beginnings are a bit different because I already had some course material to go off of.”

Jack clicks play on the video. Chase sits down and gasps as Jack-as-Chase flies around the office, performing trickshots and screaming like a toddler who drank too much apple juice. Is… is this him?! The accuracy! Holy shit! They even got his bloopers right! Creepy!!! Is he being stalked?!

Schneep watches from afar, fidgeting with his lab coat. Chase hasn’t moved once since the video started. He doesn’t look angry… but at the same time, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying his Power Hour. Truth be told, it’s not like the Doctor particularly likes his Power Hour either. Jack didn’t have to go and mention his cheating wife… or the fact that Peter did die at one point… Nonetheless, Chase is just sitting there, with wide eyes.

Jack, on the other hand, is already regretting what he did. Perhaps he emphasized too much on the “Not-As-Professional-Or-Successful” part. Maybe he made Chase too goofy or not as three-dimensional as he could have. The Youtuber catches a glimpse of the screen. Oh no. It’s the part with-

“Stacy, please, I know, I’m trying to get all the shots, look, just please don’t take the kids!” Jack-as-Chase pleads. Schneep and Jack-in-the-flesh turn white as a ghost. Chase frowns.

“This one’s called, ‘I’m Staying At My Sister’s This Weekend’!” Jack-as-Chase announces. It flashes back to him on the phone. “Well, I don’t care what your sister says! Just please! At least let me see them on the weekend still!”

Jack scratched his neck nervously and teethed on his knuckles, face beet red. Chase looks horrified. Schneep looks just as worried. Marvin and Jackie awkwardly stand up to leave.

Chase pauses the video just as Jack-as-Chase sobs. He takes a deep breath and turns to face his “creator”. “So… are you the reason my wife and I are getting a divorce?”

Jack gapes, taken aback by Chase’s accusation. He doesn’t want to throw Schneep under the bus, but at the same time, Chase wasn’t exactly “created” like the others-

“Not exactly!” Schneep interferes. “It… it was my idea. I thought if I got Jack to make a tribute video in honour of you, it would help you!”

“Help me?!” Chase laughs, a harsh and cold sound compared to his whoops and chuckles in his videos. “How?! By running my wife’s name through the dirt?!” Jack flinches.

“Fair enough,” Schneep says with a groan. “I should have been more specific when I said divorce and kids.”

“You told-?!”

“I thought if you knew you had a big name on your side you’d feel better! It was supposed to be a little treat!” Schneep counters.

“Oh, what am I, a little pity party to you?” Chase snaps. “My divorce was private information, Schneep.  Why else did you think I wanted to talk to you alone?! Now the whole world knows and Stacy’s going to be treated horribly because of you shits-”

“Not the whole world!” Schneep exclaims. “Just… all… of Jack’s world.”

“Shut up,” Chase hisses. “I don’t care that there’s more than one universe. So be it. What I care about is the fact that you betrayed my trust and now people are going to treat Stacy like she was a freaking bitch. This may come as a surprise to both you and Jack, but not all women are cheating whores like Lisette, asshole!”

SMACK. Chase cries out. The egos and Jack huddle together. Schneep’s breathing slows as he registers the sting in his hand and Chase rubbing his red cheek.

Schneep takes a deep breath, and in chilling, low, icy words, he snarls, “Don’t ever say her name again.”

Chase recovers from the slap and storms over to the door. “Whatever. You know what?! Stay away from me and whatever’s left of my family. I don’t care if I’m a part of your ‘creator’s’ story or whatever, I JUST WANT YOU OUT OF MY LIFE.” Chase grabs his coat and slams the door shut with a loud BANG. Schneep remains at the dining room, breathing unsteadily, vision somewhat blurry.

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Jackie whispers, reaching a hand out.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Schneep runs upstairs to his room and slams the door. Muffled sobs soon echo down the hallway.

Jack’s heart breaks in two. He really thought this video was a good idea. Somehow, all it brought was pain. He sighs defeatedly and slumps down at the table. Marvin closes the laptop.

“Shit… that was awful…”

“And it was supposed to be Chase’s birthday present!” Jack moans. “Ahhhhh, I feel like an asshole… I shouldn’t have been so mean…”

“It’s not your fault…” Jackie soothes. “You made an assumption and played it with satire. Schneep shares some of the blame as well. He should have kept that part quiet.”

“And I should have kept that out of the video…” Jack sighs. “Now Chase feels even worse about the divorce and he wants nothing to do with us…”

Jackie and Marvin sit down beside Jack and rub his back. Jack sighs again and rests his head on the table.

Upstairs, Schneep screams into his pillow, tears finally flowing. He hates himself and Chase and everything that’s happened. That’s what he gets for helping a friend. Ungrateful bastard-

No. Schneep should have known better! That was private information, he had no right poking his nose in and telling everyone. Well, it was just one person, but still! Now Chase never wants to speak to him again and he’s lost the only friend he’s had in a while and everything sucks and he just wants to curl up and die. Schneep pulls his hair and screams again. He can’t sleep, but at the same time, he can’t do anything else. So he remains in bed, crying and thinking. Eventually, long into the night, he falls asleep, cheeks wet and eyes sore.

Schneep wakes up feeling like absolute shit. His cheeks are somewhat sticky and damp. He must have been crying in his sleep. His stomach feels awful. But it’s a work day, so he gets out of bed.

Schneep stumbles into his ensuite bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. He shudders when he sees his reflection. Grey skin, messy hair, red eyes. He doesn’t smell so good either. Sighing sadly, Schneep throws off his clothes and turns on the shower faucet.

When he hops out of the shower, he puts on his scrubs and grabs his spare labcoat. He trudges downstairs, where Marvin is waiting with fluffy chocolate-chip pancakes on the table.

“Morning, doc,” Marvin greets cheerfully. His smile fades when he sees Schneep’s ashen face. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Schneep replies hoarsely.

“I made you some coffee,” Marvin continues. “I know you like it.”

Schneep grunts softly and pours himself a large cup. As he drinks he heads to the hook of keys by the front door, only to find-

“Where are my keys?” Schneep asks, staring at the space where his car keys used to hang.

“I saw Sirius knock them off earlier,” Marvin replies, flipping through the nearest magazine. “I tried to catch her, but she’s so fast.”

“Where is she right now?” Schneep inquires, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Beats me. I can’t control her,” Marvin says calmly.

Schneep growls and pounds on the table. Marvin jumps slightly, but quickly recovers and goes back to his reading.

“This isn’t funny, Marvin.  I need to get to work!” Schneep snaps. “I’m already falling behind schedule.”

Marvin snorts, looking up from the magazine. “You think you’re fit to go to work? Your face is bright pink, you’ve got large shadows under your eyes and I heard you crying for who knows how many hours last night.”

“I have allergies! They were just acting up!” Schneep snaps.

“Oh, really? Allergies? That’s rich coming from the man who claims to have ‘the strongest immune system in the world’!” Marvin scoffs.

“Even the strongest immune systems have off days, okay?!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Henrik, are you even hearing yourself?!”

Schneep fights back more tears. “Marvin, please, tell me where the keys are! I can’t be late for work!”

“And you won’t be! I called the hospital and asked them to give you a day off!” Marvin says.

Schneep almost drops his mug. “You… you did what?!”

“I told them it was a family emergency,” Marvin admits. “And that we didn’t know how long it would be. They understood, told me to tell you to take as many days off as you need.”

“Which is none,” Schneep scowls. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“Henrik, you said you didn’t want Chase to go through his divorce alone and friendless, like you. You’re going through a tough time right now.  The last thing you need is to be alone.”

Schneep gapes at the magician, tears threatening to fall. Marvin stares back, heart thumping loudly. He prays he didn’t say the wrong thing. He hopes this works.

Maybe it’s because he didn't get enough sleep, or maybe it’s because he’s never had anyone be so concerned for his well-being that they screwed up his schedule, but Henrik finally lets his anguish go, and collapses, bawling like a little baby. Marvin gets down from his seat and wraps his arms around the doctor, soothing him and singing softly.

Jackie finally emerges from the bathroom, and joins the cuddle pile in the kitchen. As Henrik finally slumps completely into Marvin’s arms, he and the superhero high-five and move the sleeping doctor into the living room for a day of Netflix and cuddles.

Five days pass. Henrik sits at his desk, tapping his pen. In front of him is the start of a letter, with only the words “Dear Chase,” written on it.  He needs to apologize to Chase, but just doing it by text seems insensitive. So written letter it is! Now… where to start…

Dear Chase,

I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and there’s no way to excuse my behaviour. I really believed I was doing the right thing by telling Jack, but I should have known better than to air dirty laundry.

The doctor shakes his head and crumples up the page. He can do better than that. Now to start over-

His phone begins playing the familiar sound of a monitor beeping. He really needs to change his ringtone.  It’s too painful to hear after all the dead patients that came with it.

Henrik freezes when he notices the name. Chase. Why is he calling? Heart thumping and hands shaking, Henrik picks up the phone.

“Hello? Chase?”

“H-hi, d-doc…” Chase answers in a raspy whisper. The sound of sniffling is not lost on Henrik.

“Chase? Are you okay?”

“Not really…” Another sniffle. “But I will be… soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I said… It was wrong of me to bring up your own divorce… I-I shouldn’t have been so harsh…”

“No, Chase, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought up your divorce in the first place! I thought I was doing good by telling Jack, but he clearly misinterpreted it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it…”

“It’s alright… you were just trying to make me feel bet-better… I just overreacted… I overreact to eve-everything… I’m such a bay-baby.” Chase sounds like he’s holding back tears.

“No you’re not. You had every right to be mad… I’m sorry for slapping you. How’s your cheek?”

Schneep hears Chase chuckle softly. “It’s fine… It doesn’t hurt as much as other injuries…” The laugh turns into a sob.

“Other injuries?! What do you mean?!” Henrik demands. “Chase, you’re worrying me!”

“I’m sorry… I can’t seem to do anything right… All I do is upset people…” Chase is outright crying now.

“Chase, please tell me where you are,” Henrik pleads, getting up. “I need to make sure you’re okay!”

“No… I don’t think you’ll want to see this…” Chase mumbles. He takes a deep but shuddery breath. “I have to go. Goodbye, Henrik.”

“Chase?! CHASE?!” Henrik screams. The phone line goes dead. Henrik yelps and quickly rushes into his contacts. He finds Stacy’s name and calls her.

She answers on the first ring. “Henrik? It’s been so long! How are you?”

“Where is Chase right now?”

“What?”

“Where is he living?”

“What’s going on? What did he say to you? Is he okay?”

“Call 999. I don’t believe so.”

Henrik hangs up and dashes out of his office, up the stairs and to the front door, where he grabs his keys and coat. Marvin and Jackie sit at the kitchen island, both on their phones.

“Henrik? What’s going on?”

“I have to go to the hospital. I’ll be back,” Henrik answers curtly. He throws on his coat and leaves.

Henrik runs into the hospital and quickly signs himself in. A nurse comes by and squeaks in surprise when she sees him.

“Dr. Schneeplestein? What are you doing here? Isn’t today your day off?”

“Time is broken, Cass,” Dr. Schneeplestein replies. He dashes off to the emergency room. Cass quickens her pace, trying her best to catch up to him.

“Have there been any emergencies yet?” Schneep demands.

“I think an ambulance is arriving soon-” Cass begins.

“Who’s the patient?” Schneep asks.

“A man attempted suicide-” Cass starts.

“I’ll treat him,” Schneep announces.

The doors open and medics rush in, driving a man on a gurney. Schneep pales when he sees red. The good doctor swallows his fear and tears. Now is not the time to be a baby. He’s not called the good doctor for nothing. Time to save Chase’s life.

Hours later, five nurses come in to find Dr. Schneeplestein exhaustedly sobbing against the wall, shoulders convulsing as he cries into his hands. On the gurney lies a man with yellow hair poking out of a large bandage wrapped around his head. The monitor beeps rhythmically, and the man’s chest rises and falls slowly. So why is the doctor crying?

Three nurses wheel Chase out while the other two bend down next to Schneep. One nurse, Kate, tentatively places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in shock.

“Schneeplestein? Are you alright?” Kate asks.

Schneep smiles shakily. “He’ll live…” He shivers and whimpers. “Oh god… so much could have happened… So much could have gone wrong… I thought I lost him a few times...” the doctor breaks off with another sob.

“Why don’t you head home? Today is your day off,” Kate suggests.

“In a little while… I need to speak to the patient first…” Schneep replies in a raspy voice. Kate nods. She and the other nurse, Matt, help the doctor up. His legs wobble and almost give out. Schneep takes a deep breath and slowly  makes his way out of the operating room and into his office.

An hour later,  Henrik reappears, wearing his comfy labcoat and drinking some tea, a rarity considering how much the doctor prefers coffee. But he needs to relax, and so Matt whipped up a nice cup of tea.

Henrik pulls up a chair and sets his cup down. He looks down at the sleeping man, face as white as the bandage wrapped around his head. Chase has never looked more fragile and vulnerable. His cheeks are sunken and there are large bags under his eyes.

Henrik rubs his face. Truthfully, he’s just as tired. He looks up at the clock. 1:11 am. God, he was in the operating room for quite a while. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be as stressed as he was today. He leans back and closes his eyes. Maybe he can get a quick nap before-

“Dr. Schneeplestein?” He opens his eyes and looks up. His stomach flips when he notices a woman with red hair that falls in waves down her shoulders.  Her soft brown eyes are full of compassion and worry. Stacy Brody. Or Stacy Matthews, to be more precise.

“Stacy…” Henrik mumbles. “What… I mean, I’m sorry. I understand this must be a lot for you.”

“I can’t believe it… I mean, I knew about his depression, I just didn’t think it would get this bad,” Stacy says, voice soft and sad.

Henrik nods. “Yes. One can’t help but wonder what the breaking point was.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Stacy whispers hoarsely, staring down at her ex-husband’s skinny frame. “I did cheat on him. I told him I wanted a divorce after he found out… I wonder what would have happened if I told him straight up about Delilah… I wonder how he would have reacted…”

Henrik is speechless. He can’t really say it isn’t her fault, but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she could straight up tell him. There really was no way of telling how he would have reacted. Henrik groans and rubs his eyes again. He can’t think straight.

His mind flickers back to the video, and his stomach sinks. Did that video… influence his decision? Should he tell her about it? Would she be mad? He takes a deep breath.

“I mentioned your divorce to another friend,” he finally says. “Said friend made a video that I think mocked Chase more than flattered him. I thought it would help… but it didn’t. Only made him even more upset.”

“A video? Was this the video that ‘Jack’ made?” Stacy asks. Henrik opens his eyes, horrified. How long has she known?! Oh god, she must despise him! Henrik whirls around to face her, face riddled with guilt.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d take it in that direction- It was a shitty idea, I was so invasive and it was absolutely despicable of me and-”

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay! It was an honest mistake!” Stacy responds calmly. “Chase told me about it. He felt awful and he was so pissed with you guys. I will admit I was a bit peeved at first, but Chase said he yelled at you and broke off his friendship with you, so I figured it was punishment enough.”

“He also brought up my wife,” Henrik says. “So I punched him.”

Stacy nods. “Ah, that’s where the bruise came from.”

Henrik cringes. Damn, did he actually hit Chase that hard? He really is a dick. He sighs and stands up. “You are more than welcome to punch me. I deserve it. I never should have brought up the divorce. It was hateful of me, really.”

Stacy shakes her head. “Oh no, I couldn’t! You saved Chase from the brink of death. It’d be so insensitive of me!”

“I insist.” Henrik holds his head up. Stacy reluctantly stands up, and raises an open palm.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks.

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” Henrik says.

Stacy takes a deep breath… and punches him. Henrik falls back into the chair from the force. Stacy cringes.

“You… have a very strong punch,” Henrik remarks, holding his throbbing cheek. He holds a finger up when he sees her mouth move. “Don’t apologize. You were right to do so.”

“I took karate as a kid,” Stacy boasts. “I won a black belt at age five.”

“Good for you! To be honest, it wasn’t nearly as hard as my wife’s,” Henrik admits.

“Well, at least I got my ‘revenge’- wait, what?!” Stacy does a double take. “Lisette used to punch you?!”

“She only did it once,” Henrik quickly adds. “After I called her a whore.”

“Oh. That explains a lot,” Stacy deadpans.

“I deserved that as well,” Henrik says. “I just wish she hadn’t moved so far away… I wonder how the girls are doing...”

“Have your children contacted you?” Stacy lightly presses.

“I’ve tried to contact them,” Henrik says. “I don’t think Lisette lets them write or call me.”

“Then Lisette really is an ass,” Stacy explodes. “What if they do want to talk to you? She can’t hide them from you just because she doesn’t like you.”

“That doesn’t seem to stop her. I keep my phone nearby in case Sophia calls when her mother isn’t around.” Henrik pats his pocket. “Or maybe Rick will let her. He’s quite nice and he’s good with kids, which is why I was quite surprised when he turned out to be-”

“A homewrecker?” Stacy suggests. Henrik glares at her, scandalized, but she can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, snickering.

“I was gonna say an ass, but that’s better,” he says. Stacy bursts out laughing, but it quickly fades when she notices Chase. She clears her throat.

“I’m going to take the kids away for a while,” she reveals. “At least until he’s emotionally stable to look after the kids.”

“You know Chase would never let his depression get in the way of being a good father,” Henrik protests.

“I know. I just feel he needs a break from it all,” Stacy says. “Mostly family life, me and Delilah in particular. Maybe she and I could go to my cottage in Scotland. We can stay there until he feels ready to share custody once more. He can’t be alone, though. We know what will happen if he does. He can’t go back home either. We still need to wash out the blood and dispose of any guns he might have. Of course I mean the real guns, but he might not want his Nerf toys either. He needs to be with someone , and that can’t be me. I just don’t know anyone he could stay with who lives in Athlone. We only just moved here.”

Henrik lights up. Holy shit. It’s like destiny! This is the perfect opportunity! “He can move in with us. He’s already an ego. He’d love it there. Sure it’s a bit chaotic, but I think he’d love it!”

Stacy raises an eyebrow. “What sort of chaotic?” she questions.

“The local superhero likes to crash there, we have a magician who INSISTS on using us for test subjects for his latest tricks, and me, the ‘feral doctor’,” Henrik lists off. “Come to think of it, I’m actually the voice of reason.”

Stacy tries her best to hide a shudder. “I feel a little worried about his safety. And no offense, but it’s a bit concerning that you’re the voice of reason in that house.”

Henrik scoffs in mock insult and shoves her gently. “Oh screw you! To be honest, Jackie is actually the smart one. I’m the one who pays the taxes and keeps a roof over their head. They’re the ones who overstayed their visit.”

Stacy rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She looks more relaxed than when she walked in. She stands up.

“I think it’s time I left. Good luck, Chase. I wish you all the best with your recovery.” Stacy leans over and gently kisses Chase’s cheek before turning to Henrik and holding her hand out. Henrik returns it and gives it a small squeeze, only to be pulled in for a hug. He gasps in surprise.

“Thank you Henrik,” she whispers. Henrik nods and returns the hug, holding her tightly until she signals to let go. Stacy picks up her bag and leaves.

Henrik sits back down and takes out his cellphone to call the egos. Jackie picks up after the first ring.

“Henrik? Are you okay?”

“I want you to clean the house and make some hot chocolate. We’ve got a new roommate coming to stay with us!” Henrik announces.

“Is it Chase? Is that who we’re taking in?” Jackie asks.

“Yes. I want everything to be perfect, so go! Get cleaning!” the doctor commands.

“Need us to pick you up?” Marvin suggests.

“I can drive just fine! See you soon!” Henrik hangs up just as Chase begins to stir. The doctor watches him apprehensively. He hasn’t seen Chase since the argument. How will he react?

Chase groggily opens his eyes. He can see a bright light shining down on him and closes his eyes. “Where… where am I?”

He slowly attempts to sit up. A soft pair of hands gently help him sit up and rub his back. 

Chase blinks, trying to clear his vision. The blurry blue shape slowly comes into view… Henrik! The good doctor sits beside him with an anxious expression on his face.

Chase wracks his memory to try to remember what had happened. He can feel a heavy fabric wrapped around his head. He lifts a hand to better investigate… oh.

Henrik’s heart breaks when he sees Chase drop his hand, expression forlorn. Here we go, he thinks.

“Chase?” Chase looks up. “Before you say anything, know that you have every right to be mad at me and Jack. What we did was despicable and absolutely awful. You don’t have to forgive us, and I completely understand if you never do. But you can’t be alone right now. You’re going through a really tough time, and the last thing you need to be is alone. I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but we have an extra room at home that would be a perfect spot for you to stay while you recover. I know you might not want to talk to me, but Jackie and Marvin are living with me, and they will ensure your time there will be as comfortable as possible. It’s fine if you don’t want to go, but just know that we will always be there when you need a place to stay.”

Chase is silent, simply gazing at Henrik with unshed tears. Finally, he throws his arms around Henrik’s neck. Henrik startles, but returns the hug.

“Is that a yes?” Henrik mumbles. Chase nods. Henrik sighs in relief and squeezes Chase tighter. Now all he has to do is hope Jackie and Marvin have the house ready by the time he returns.

Henrik parks the car in the driveway and turns to Chase. The vlogger fidgets with his t-shirt. Henrik puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Just warning you now, while Jackie and Marvin have good hearts and intentions, they can be little shits and there’s a good chance the house will still be a mess when we get back in. Good luck.”

Chase whimpers in fear. Henrik nods solemnly. “My thoughts exactly.”

The fathers unload the car and walk up to the front steps. Henrik takes a deep breath and opens the door.

“FIFTEEN FUCKING POINTS! I WIN AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!” Jackie screeches. Marvin roars in anger and tosses a pillow at Jackie, who backhands it. The pillow soars across the house and slams into Henrik, who grunts in alarm and falls backward. Chase shrieks in alarm, gaping at his fallen friend.

Marvin and Jackie turn around, bright blue eyes glaring into Chase. Marvin’s eye twitches sporadically and Jackie smiles like a madman. Chase nervously waves. Marvin clears his throat and forces a sleep-deprived smile.

“Howdy, Chase!”