#yeah she lonely shes grieving

[bawdza]

One throw-away line about Vi being a bad class president from her ex, I have cork boarded so many narratives.

[thriftdyke]

.

[mycological-mariner]

Oh lads. We are Going Through It

[cuntrytaylor]

well. my roommate of 5 years is moving out!

[radiotorn]

i used to be their smiley :((((((

[fhrlclln]

miguel o’hara x spider!fem! reader

just a bit of angst for experimental reasons guys… i’m sorry in advance <3

the lore im basing off is solely on the background story of miguel in the movie and a lil bit from the 928 miguel, so please mind me for switching it up, my loves!!

miguel is harsh but harsher towards you when you’re practically one of the first and loyal spider members to the league. why?

angst under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

miguel was harsh. rude, sassy, overly harsh but everyone got to experience that kind of attitude of his. not until that attitude went overboard with you. you didn’t know why or how this started but you knew miguel’s attitude of being snappy and that was kind of his way of showing a little affection. but to you, to you none of that was that. he was more cold, more snappy, more overly dismissive of you everyday since jess had recruited you and you didn’t know why.

your dimension was a variant of miguel’s as well, both of you are from nueva york. scientists at alchemax and in your dimension, he was just an ordinary colleague of yours. except that, this time you weren’t a mutant-spider hybrid like miguel is, but more that you were actually bitten by a radioactive spider and the rest was history from then when an anomaly from another dimension had gone to yours, thus meeting the leader himself and jess. which was a total surprise that you learned another miguel o’hara was spiderman as well.

“that’s all?” miguel asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“yeah.” you nodded awkwardly, tensed a bit, you had just reported to him about your mission you were assigned on. you stare at his back, seeing him flick away from his screen as you sighed, this bubble in your throat threatening to burst. the miguel you knew wasn’t like this a bit, sure he was still an asshole but this miguel was worser. the only time he was nice is when he softly told you that you can join the spider-society after jess had introduced you to him.

“leave me.” miguel says with no thank you of whatsoever, just pure coldness. you frown, wishing he would just try and be more a little civilized towards you. your mouth opens slightly, brows furrowed as you wanted to say something but you held back, still staring at his back, his movements were calculated as he didn’t notice you further. your feet sank to the ground as you nodded, the bitterness in your heart making your lips tremble underneath your mask as you guided yourself out of his lab.

jess watches from the shadows with great amount of displeasure as she glances up to miguel. you walked away, shoulders sunken and she could tell you were trying to hold yourself back at his attitude towards you.

“you can’t ignore her forever, miguel.” jess speaks up. miguel stills, glancing to his side as he rolls his eyes.

“it’s none of your business.” he deadpans, intent to not hear what jess has to say. she sighs, leaving the lab as well.

“at some point, she has to know.” jess quietly tells him before she leaves. he merely stays quiet, the sound of the footage he has been playing echoing his lonely lab. his fingers tap on their own on instinct when he’s alone as one video pops up to give him that feeling of that once happy time he had.

“look, papa!” his heart sinks hearing his little daughter’s voice. he looks happy back then, smiling, with cream on his face as his kid smiles with him when he puts her down. a pleasant memory to fill the void in his heart as he yearns for it again. the sound of little laughter, the feel of warmth around his heart, that same feeling of sweet happiness back then. love was there and regret was yet to overcome him.

“what are you doing? get in the video. mija, tell mama to join us.” his other self laughs as he looks behind the camera, miguel’s heart surges as the camera shakes for a moment. he watches, breath stilling, always readying for the next part as he tried to not dwell on the grieving feeling when he watches it.

“mama! come on!” he smiles for a bit, just barely.

“alright! wait, lemme just—“ your voice cuts in. his heart drops when you turn the camera over to you three now. all smiling as you kiss miguel on the cheek, teasing him for the cream on his face. miguel’s eyes train on yours, your smile was radiant as ever, same smile you had when he watches you sometimes when you talk alongside your fellow spider friends here.

“say cheese!” you cooed in the video, kissing your daughter on the head as the other miguel smiles widely, leaning against you. his heart sinks as his lips tremble, his fists clench when he remembers the first time he saw you again after both you and gabriella had died in his arms. he landed in your dimension when he was tracking that same anomaly, you were fighting alongside him, defeating the anomaly that had landed in your dimension. his first instinct was to sweep you up in his arms but he held himself back, knowing what further damage might do if he even gets close to you remembering how selfish he was taking place of the dimension the former miguel had. taking his place as your husband and the father to his child.

but was it so wrong knowing that in another world that it was possible for him to be happy?

he doesn’t know. and he makes sure to stay it that way no matter how he knows he puts much distance between the two of you since you joined the spider-society in the early days. the video ends as miguel shooks his head to clear his thoughts as he looks back to where you exited, a sinking feeling in his chest, urges he denies inside his head as he remembers what would happen if something between the two of you would transpire. he loves you, but he hopes that you wouldn’t know it. he hopes that you’d accept that his way of being a major asshole was in-order to protect you.

“she can’t know.” he mumbles underneath his breath, hands covering his tired face, his broken heart already torn to pieces as grief fills it in. convincing himself this is the only way for you to live.

you can’t know.

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IM SORRY. my next fics are spicy so stay tune <3

[automatonwithautonomy]

it's like - "He was nice to me," she found herself saying. - [Gideon Nav], Gideon the Ninth, chapter 19, page 208.

magnus was nice to her. just - nice. polite, kind. he treated her like someone worthy of basic fucking decency. yeah, he was funny and charming and he loved jeannemary and isaac and he really didn't deserve to die. but mostly? he just cared enough to be nice to a lonely teenage girl who no one had ever wasted that on. he was the first person gideon ever really grieved.

[dollypopup]

interesting that people are still saying that they need to see Colin humbled and criticizing him for being 'smug' in the first views we have of Season 3

almost like. . .they don't actually understand his character

almost like. . .they don't want to

Colin is a character who is consumed externally. Through other people's eyes. Through Marina's and Penelope's and Anthony's viewpoints, through the ton's viewpoint. And that makes him a character you have to dig into and *actively* consider his POV in order to properly grasp the extent of him, since he has been largely denied that POV by the narrative. And when you do that, when you consider his perspective, you realize that the 'smug' veneer people are criticizing? Yeah, that's not actually Colin. It is the view of him. It's the persona he wears. That he shows us. That we consume without question.

Because we? We are the ton. We are who Colin criticizes as only seeing him as an empty charmer. As a smug flirt. As a man with no substance.

Colin is *already* humbled, and his suave exterior is the protection of such, the armor to shield him from society, because when he didn't have it? He was hurt.

Colin loses his father at 12 years old. Colin is sent off to boarding school away from his family almost immediately after Edmund dies. Colin grieves alone. Colin is made fun of by his older brother. Colin is teased for being a virgin, for being earnest, for being a romantic. Colin's first foray into love ends with a public blowup of his engagement. Colin is humiliated to his entire community. Colin is depressed in Season 2. Colin tries finding escape in new places and drugs and letters. Colin is hardly even noticed by his own mother. Colin tries talking about his experiences and people roll their eyes at him, so he stops talking about it. Colin writes on his travels a second time and barely gets a response back. Colin is ghosted by his best friend with no explanation. Colin apologizes. Repeatedly. Wholeheartedly. To Penelope. To Will. To Marina. Colin is told off to his face and *accepts it*. Colin is accused of being a foolish boy caught up in fantasies and bows his head and says 'very well'. Colin is informed that he hurt Penelope and called cruel and immediately apologizes. Takes accountability for what he said with no excuses, praises her, and offers to help her achieve her goals.

When Colin says that charm can be taught, he speaks from experience. He was a sad, lonely young man in Season 2, he is playing a role in Season 3. That's the whole point. Colin *is already humble*.

But furthermore. . .so what if he is more confident in Season 3? What did he do exactly that was so horrible that we need him to be knocked down several pegs? When he is already overlooked even in his own family? And the answer is. . .he didn't love Penelope soon enough.

But that's also not true. Colin has loved Penelope more than anyone else, out loud, and unhesitatingly. It hasn't been romantic and sexual, but that doesn't mean he hasn't loved her. Who asks how Penelope is faring? Colin. Who is the only one in the sitting room in Season 1 to bid her a good day? Colin. Who is the one who is praising Penelope for being smart and sharp and witty and funny and warm and clever? Colin. Who is the one writing to her on the off season, keeping her company? Colin. Who is the one who looks to her home, no doubt wondering how she's doing? Colin.

This fandom has a grudge against him for increasingly infuriating reasons. This is the season he falls in love, and the grand majority of people don't want to understand him, his motivations or characterization. Going so far as to immediately think he's ignoring Penelope in the first 5 minute clip, when she is hiding in the bushes. When the entire family walked down the stairs and didn't notice her right in front of them. We will bend ourselves into pretzels to justify hating on him or insulting him or wanting to see him ground to nothing, and yet accept the most surface level reading of him possible. You can't do that with a character like Colin. His conflict is internal, and the narrative has not given us much glimpse of it. Regardless of whether or not it has gotten overt screentime, Colin is a complex, deep character.

We, however, are a shallow audience.

We are the ton.

[wystiix]

"just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat."

❥ pairing: furina x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: So it's all finally over, Furina was free from the restraints of the curse and now she could live as a normal human being. Oh, but oh shit! What is it like to live as a human? A very strange concept to grasp indeed. ❥ cw: post-archon quest spoilers (fontaine), angst, first fic so it may be a bit ew but anyways ❥ additional tags: second pov perspective, reader is not traveler ❥ word count: 2.7k ❥ notes: remind me to NEVER write again because what the shit why is this so long. but yeah anyways my first fic woohoo 🗣️🗣️ i jsut want to get this out of my drafts like please this has been bugging me I HAVE SCHOOL TOO OMLKSDJSAJ. also this is kinda based off my last relationship cuz like my ex pushed me away and allat yk (i'm praying to god they don't see this). but ye reader is kinda a bitch like towards the end btw. i wrote this mainly in a romantic perspective, but this can also be interpreted as platonic!! yahoo enjoy <33

Humans are complex beings.

Tapestries of contradictions, thoughts and emotions, all woven together into the fabric of mere existence. They can wear masks, putting them on as a display for the appeal of others. Other times, they put on a mask to deceive—making others believe they are something that they are not. Perhaps if they fake it just a little more to an extent, even the divine could be fooled.

People may do it to gain approval. Others may do it for self-satisfaction. Whatever their reason, they have the choice to remove their mask at any point.

Furina, on the other hand, had to put on that facade for five hundred years. All that, in order to fool the Heavenly Principles and to free Fontaine from its prophecy.

In that, she succeeded.

Ever since Focalors’ execution, she was freed from the curse that had been laid upon her for centuries. The restraints and pressure to conform to the public persona she had put on to please the citizens of Fontaine. That, of course, meant that she could finally live her life. Not as an Archon, but as a normal human being.

But how does one conform to the reality of human existence? Especially since she’d been in the guise of a god her entire life?

Furina was so used to presenting herself as a performer for so long that the experiences of mortals and her identity have been fractured and completely out of reach. She couldn’t even begin to grasp the nuances of mundane human interactions. Usually, she’d sit around, observing the humans– people around her. 

Differences flurried.

Some faces radiated with joy and their laughter could be heard like a choir of tinkling bells in the air. Others wept, perhaps even grieving, in the arms of their loved ones. Arguments erupted in one corner, and people’s raised voices could be heard.

Different faces and different emotions, all in one area. Very common human experiences—they all acted differently too.

As she continued to observe, it was apparent that they all had something quite similar: they all seemed genuine and had someone there to stick with them. If one person cracked a joke, they had someone to laugh with. If they were crying, they had someone’s shoulder to cry on.

Amidst all, the realisation struck her. It was painfully clear and it was being shoved right at her face. There was something they possessed that Furina herself lacked: authenticity.

Everything she did for the past five hundred years was an act. And she did it alone.

Sure, she was well-known throughout Fontaine—she did make sure to flaunt herself with a sprinkle of dramatic flair to protect her title as an “Archon” of the nation and to be seen as capable. She also had assistance from her Iudex, Neuvillette, working closely with him.

Other than that, she never had many friends throughout her life. She was lonely. Now that she wasn’t an “Archon” anymore, she felt she wasn’t needed. It was like she was going to get discarded now that she wasn’t making that false claim anymore.

That was until she met you.

You were but a passerby, strolling through the city, when the sound of soft sniffles caught your attention. Your footsteps led you outside the Opera Epiclese. There by the fountain, you caught a glimpse of Furina’s figure hunched over, her tears glistening in the faint light of dusk. The evening air was thick as you observed her from a distance. You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on her in her sorrowful and seemingly private state. Oh, but your empath instincts were acting up. Something urged you forward.

You took one step. Then another. And another. Until you found yourself standing before her, just a few feet away to keep a distance, each movement being out of impulse. Was your body on auto-pilot, perhaps? It wasn’t until—

“Lady Furina, is everything alright?” you asked gently.

Furina looked up at the sound of your voice, a little startled. Shit, was she not crying silently enough? In an attempt to mask the redness in her eyes, she quickly wiped her tears away and straightened up to her usual composed demeanour. Her crying was not a pretty sight, and she definitely did not want a passerby to see her in this state.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied in between sniffles, her voice wavering despite the attempt to appear nonchalant.

You stared at her. “Uhm, you sure? Your eyes seem all… puffy.”

Furina blinked, caught off-guard by your simple observation. “Puffy?” she echoed. She glanced down at the water fountain to examine her face.

While she was aware of the fact that she was not blessed enough to be a pretty crier, she may have underestimated how ugly crying actually was, because sweet Celestia she looked like she’d been stung by twenty angry bees. Her eyes were not only puffed up as you have mentioned, but her dark circles were more prominent, and her cheeks appeared inflamed and swollen.

“It’s nothing!” she insisted, waving her hand dismissively. Though, her gaze faltered as she glanced away from you.

You weren’t convinced. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“But it is nothing. It’s not like I’m crying. I’m just…” she trailed off, unable to form a proper sentence. “Just… don’t look at me like this. I’m not particularly at my best look as of right now, and I’d hate to display myself openly to a citizen. It’s humiliating.”

The air was thick with shrouded silence, and her closed-off body language indicated her hesitance to continue this awkward conversation. 

“Hey, I don't know if this means much hearing from a citizen as you call it,” you said. “But it's okay to cry. I'm not going to judge you for it.”

Furina blinked at you, her tears still cascading down her cheeks.

You shifted awkwardly in your spot, attempting to stand straight. “I may be a stranger and all, but I consider myself a good listener,” you professed, before briefly rubbing the back of your neck. “Then again, you don't have to talk about it if you're not keen to. I apologise for intruding. I could always go—”

“No, actually, uhm,” she cleared her throat. “I could use some company. I suppose that I, Furina, shall grant you the honour to grace you with mine own presence. Sit with me, dearest commoner.”

She patted the empty spot next to her, and you complied.

“My apologies, it seems I haven't introduced myself properly. I'm [Name],” you say.

She nodded. “Furina. As you may have already known.”

And from that simple interaction alone, a newfound bond blossomed, akin to a beautiful rose that had just sprouted in a garden. That day, being the best throughout her whole five-hundred years of living, because she made the greatest decision ever—giving you a chance to sit with her and opening up to you, because then, she could also have the chance to be with you.

Furina had a mass amount of free time in her hands now that she was, well, free. And she was more than willing to do it all with you.

People like you were difficult to come by. You were attentive, open-minded, considerate and caring. Throughout your time with her, you’ve always adhered to her needs—from surfing with her, to purchasing her most-wanted item in her shopping list no matter how useless, to actually reading any book she recommended, to watching her direct a film. It was not like she could complain, you both thoroughly enjoyed each other's company.

Ah. Was this what she was missing out on throughout her whole life? She felt much calmer and… happier. She’d never known such a feeling, the fact that she was able to let her guard down around you, the warmth seeping through her entire being. Furina was starting to appreciate the little gestures, the little mundane experiences humans experienced through you.

Even so, a sense of doubt crept into her head, agonisingly swallowing her being little by little. There was a shitload of things she was capable of doing, she is the Furina who acted without any celestial or divine powers, which was beyond impressive. But when it came to relying on others, she was practically braindead and felt completely lost. Her first instinct was to isolate herself and push others away and you were no exception.

However, you stayed patient, trying to be the attentive and understanding person you were and listened intently.

“It’s like learning a new dance,” you would say as you stroked her hair, gently wiping her tears away. “You don’t aimlessly move around and expect to make a cohesive dance routine. It takes patience, taking baby steps and feeling the rhythm. Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat.” You paused before adding, “I promise, I’ll always be here.”

She nodded, leaning into your touch. “And I promise to show you the same amount of affection you’ve given to me.”

One, two, three. Each basic step, slow and deliberate. Miss Furina had familiarised herself with performing arts, so it wasn’t a surprise that she was skilled in the area of dancing. This time, she was following your lead.

It almost made her feel bad that you'd be willing to do anything for her.

One, two, three.

However, like a rose in the garden, it was bound to die eventually. 

For your sake, she’d often mask whenever she felt any sort of negativity and play it off as something foolish. Hell, it felt foolish and idiotic. How dare she feel that way after the countless times you’ve reassured her?

One, two, three.

Whenever she felt out of sync and faltered, she would retreat immediately, often needing time alone by herself. You didn’t press further and would watch her isolate herself in her room. The rhythm was quite unfamiliar, but you shrugged it off. Perhaps it’d be something she’d get over and will be fixed eventually?

One, two, three.

That didn’t happen. It happened more and more often. The breaks occurred frequently, and Furina grew increasingly distant from you. The promise you bestowed grew emptier and emptier each passing day. 

One, two, three.

But she is trying her best. She really is. It’s been hard.

One, two, three.

“Hey, I’m not going to do anything. Just take it slow, breathe. Take a deep breath in… and out.”

One, two, three.

It had been months, almost a year now. You felt as though you were the one shouldering the burden of this relationship, leaving you utterly drained.

One, two, three.

The metronome ticked. The rhythm was far too unfamiliar for you.

One, two, three.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Furina looked at you as you stood by her door, confusion etching her features. “Pardon?”

You sighed heavily. “How long will this last? Do I not matter to you?”

“...What prompted this?”

“I'm not sure, maybe for the past few months you’ve been actively avoiding me and completely shutting down my efforts to help you?”

“No, [Name], it’s not that! You just don’t understand. I just… I just need some time—”

“Don’t understand what, exactly?” you snapped. “I'm trying my best to be patient with you, I really am but I can’t do that if every fucking thing is about you. I feel like I’m the only one trying to put effort into this, but you keep pushing me away. It’s like you don’t even fucking care. C'est exaspérant, I’m tired.”

Her lip trembled and she could feel the tears form in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Shove it up your ass, Furina,” you place a hand on your forehead as if you were pushing back the impending headache that was forming. “I don’t want to hear it. How about instead of spouting empty apologies, you actually do something and try to put in some real effort, yeah?”

“But I am trying!” she protested.

"Sure you are. You don't even seem like you acknowledge the things I'm doing for you,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fat tear that rolled down her cheek. You averted your gaze away from her and got ready to leave. “I’ll just go.”

Furina’s heart dropped, more tears spilled from her eyes. She got up to grab your arm. “Wait, please. Don’t leave.”

You stood still, not turning your head towards her. “That’s new.”

“Huh?”

You jerked your arm away from her touch. “That’s new,” you repeated. “What happened to your ‘I want to be alone’s, hm?”

“Why are you asking such ridiculous questions?!” she croaked, almost sounding like a whine before shaking her head. “No, I won’t allow it! Stay with me for a little longer, please. Can we just talk about this later?”

“Give me one good reason why.”

“I’ll do better, I promise!” she pleaded. Archons it was hard to get her word across and think straight when her throat was practically constricting while she was fucking bawling in front of you, but her desperation palpable. She didn’t care if she looked ugly, she didn’t care if her eyes burned like hell. This was far more important.

“You’ve said that for the umpteenth time,” you take a deep breath to prevent yourself from exploding because this goddamn headache was not helping at all. “This isn’t the first time you promised that, you’ve been ‘promising’ that for almost a year. It’s losing its meaning and, if I’m being honest, I don’t believe it anymore.”

Furina couldn’t find the words to respond to that. The deafening silence enveloped the room shortly before you broke it with a sigh. “Yeah, I should get goi—” “I’m just afraid.”

The words hung heavy in the air, taking a while for you to process it. You wanted to ignore it but something was holding you back. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that I’ll end up pushing you away for good,” her voice was barely audible. “I don’t want to make things worse for you if I suddenly open up.”

“You know,” you shook your head, the frustration was bubbling up. “It’s actually ironic because that’s the problem. That’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re doing everything you can that pushes me away further than anything else ever could.”

She hated how she couldn’t deny it.

“So what now?” she sniffled, her tears flowing more freely. “You’re just going to walk away just like that?”

“I have to. You're exhausting.”

And you did. Those were the last words she heard from you before you walked out the door. You never entered it since.

One, two, three.

Promises are fragile things. In the end, they are merely just words. It's funny how words alone can shatter someone so easily.

Every day, Furina would sit by the same fountain where you met, hoping to catch the glimpse of your figure walking by. She would look into your favourite places and special spots where you used to hang out, hoping you'd at least be there and patch things up.

You never did, not even once did you come.

She could never do the same things she loved the same anymore, because it often reminded her of you. Each time, she’d envision your silhouette, leaving empty spaces in places where you would normally stand or sit next to her.

So here she was in this position again. The lonely vessel she always was since the day she was created for the sake of the prophecy. Was this her fate? Could she find any peace of mind at all?

“I shan’t sulk like this,” she scolded herself. “I am the Furina, for Archons’ sake! I know better than to further humiliate myself like this.”

She wiped away her tears and straightened up. Acting like this as if Teyvat just exploded over one person was pathetic.

Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat, she recalls you saying.

There was still time to heal. You weren't there anymore, but she still had to keep pushing through it.

It’s like a dance.

That line still echoed in her head.

One, two, three. The metronome still ticked. She had to move on. 

Furina still danced. She still had to take it slowly, step by step. Eventually, she will regain her footing—just this time, alone.

[occatorcreator]

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

2 - Lonely Purpose

Purple seeks out a new purpose in the wake of his mother's passing and makes a new life in the world of Minecraft. Through it, he ends up crossing paths with a group of stick figures in need. Content Warnings: Character death, grieving, canon typical violence

Purple returned to the city to bury Orchid. There was no body to bury, but a grave was something Orchid requested in her end-of-life plan, and Purple would honor her last requests. 

It didn’t change the hollow feeling he had standing before her grave. He had cried all of yesterday, and his eyes felt raw and painful, but he couldn’t summon any more tears. So he simply stewed in his emptiness.

He was the only one there for her funeral. 

I mean, of course he wouldn’t show up, Purple thought. I should be glad to not see him… it would just be awkward. As if he cares that his ex-spouse is gone.

The lawyer reached out to Navy regarding the death. Navy should have learned of Orchid’s passing and Purple’s destitution. But of course how could one reach someone who left without any contact for over a year? Purple would be a fool to hope to see him here.

So, why was he so upset that Navy failed to show?

I can’t be here, Purple turned away, the numbness turning into an unexpectedly painful vise in his chest. He left his mother’s grave and the cemetery behind as quickly as he could, bolting down the sidewalk until he had no energy left to run.

He leaned against a wall, watching as stick figures passed by with faded interest. He stood as still as a statue, watching passerbys go into the stores. There were parents holding little kids by their hands, groups of friends chatting close to each other, lovers holding hands and laughing...

Everyone was lively and moving around like usual. The day was bright and sunny, birds were chirping. As if this wasn’t the worst day of Purple’s life. 

A group of teenagers passed by him. When Purple watched them, he recognized all of them as old friends from school. All but one. A tall, lanky orange hollow head towered over them and chatted with arms waving animatedly. Their eyes briefly met Purple’s and for a split, terrifying second, Purple thought they were going to try to rope him into small talk.

But they didn’t, they just waved and continued walking with their group. A couple of others looked back at Purple, and Purple tried not to notice their confused and judging gazes. The teens turned a corner, but Purple caught his name whispered among them.

“Hold on, was that Purple back there?” 

With heavy limbs, Purple followed behind them. He moved silently, trying to be discreet in the fact he was following them.

It has been five months since I dropped out, Purple realized. It had to be summer break now.

“Do you know them, Peri?” The orange hollow head asked.

“Yeah, he disappeared before you transferred in, Second,” the stick figure Purple knew as Periwinkle said. “He was in my financial elective...”

“And he was a total scumbag,” a dark violet stick figure jumped in.

“Saffron,” Periwinkle admonished.

“What? It’s true!” The oddly named Saffron said. Purple recalled her brazenness. She was Periwinkle’s annoying younger sister and highly protective of her softhearted brother. Any slight against him, no matter how small, earned her ire.

“What did Purple do?” Second asked.

“Ah, Purple is someone you wouldn’t want to get close to,” added a brown stick figure beside them. “He acts friendly at first, gives gifts to buy your affection. But he’s highly controlling. The moment you don’t do what he wants or if you inconvenience him, he dumps you and goes after the next sucker.”

Chestnut… Purple grimaced at his ex-friend’s bitterness. He lagged behind, increasing the distance between them.

“I think that’s being a little bit uncharitable,” Periwinkle added, “I think he really admired you, Chestnut.”

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that, Peri?” Chestnut said, punching Periwinkle in the arm. Her disgust was hard not to hear from this distance.

“Why are you even defending him? Do I need to remind you how Purple borrowed your prized umbrella?” Saffron said, “and you never got it back even after asking about it?”

“I never forgot that…” Periwinkle nodded, and Purple saw his shoulders slump. “Gosh, it still hurts to think about it. I spent so much money getting that, it was one of a kind.”

“Exactly! And now it’s gone because of him! You’re being too nice!”

Second, sensing that their friend group was getting agitated, coughed in their hands.

“Anyways, I asked Mango this morning, and he said I can go to the arcade with you all!”

Saffron pumped her hands in the air while Periwinkle clapped. “Awesome!”

“Yeah, enough about Purple,” Chestnut said, not leaving much alone, slinging her arm around Second’s shoulders. “Be grateful you never met him. He’d be horrible to you too.”

“Chestnut,” Second scolded.

“Sorry, I’ll stop,” Chestnut finished.

Then they chatted about arcade games. Purple didn’t catch anything else as he stopped in his tracks, watching as the group retreated. He couldn't stand to listen anymore as he felt like he was close to decking one of them.

Why… was the whole school glad I was gone for months? Purple thought,  clenching his fists. Was I really that awful to you?

He and Chestnut certainly had a falling out, but he swore his attempts at being her friend were genuine. Complimenting and giving gifts- how else was he supposed to make friends? It wasn’t his fault they had incompatible personalities! Not everyone can be so blaisé about everything! Was it a crime to expand his social circle?

Not like those sticks liked me for long… Purple thought, recalling how he fell out of that clique faster than he did with Chestnut.

Periwinkle was nice; Purple did intend to only borrow the umbrella since he had none that rainy day. But of course, with his horrid luck, he ended up breaking it on the way home and feared how Periwinkle would react. How was he supposed to know that it was a special one of a kind?

Stupid idiot’s too obsessive over umbrellas, Purple grinded his teeth. If he and his sister blow a gasket over a lost umbrella of all things, then no sane person should deal with them!

He felt raw and scratched, scoured by their claws. How he hated them. Truly hated them all. Especially that Second kid- what a stupid name. While he didn’t know anything about them, he hated how the three people who he couldn’t befriend clung to them so easily. He hated how Second had to only look at him to ruin his horrible day even further. He hated that they had some parent to come home to after fun at the arcade with friends while Purple was all alone.

I hate you! Purple thought with bared teeth. I hope you all suffer like I did! Hope your days are as rotten and horrid as mine!

I hate all of you!

=

Alana reminded Purple that he could stay on the desktop for as long as he liked. That arrangement worked out for Purple because he had no reason to leave the computer. He didn’t want to return to school, and he had no desire to find a job and be a cog in some miserable system in the city. On the desktop, he had more freedom to do what he wanted.

And he just wanted to lie in his bed and wallow in his sadness.

He let the grief drape over him. It made his limbs heavy as lead and turned his mind to static. Food and activities were bland; he had no desire to do much of anything. Aside from Alana, there wasn’t anyone checking on him. He had no idea where the villager caretaker went or if they were somehow deleted, but he couldn’t even begin to care. 

How odd it felt to be purposeless. How the drive and desperation to find a cure for his mother vanished with her body, leaving behind exhaustion and nothingness.

The only time he felt anything other than despair was when he dreamed. The dreams were both cruel and relieving. He dreamt of being a prince in a grand castle. His mother and friends were there in that castle to greet him and go on fun adventures. Waking was painful, as it brought those sweet dreams to an end and dumped him back to the cold, lonely reality. The more he slept, the longer the dreams went and more intense the pain of waking became.

I wish I could stay in my dreams…

But then one night, they changed. Instead of continuing the fantasy, he dreamt he was in a void. A light shone above, with pink petals floating down around him.

Orchid petals? Purple thought, holding a hand out to catch a petal. Mom?

Instinctively he looked around, trying to find Orchid in the pitch dark, only to flinch when he saw Navy standing before him in the gloom. 

“Why are you here?” Purple raised hands up defensively. He had not dreamt of his father once in his fantasy world. It was as if he was banished from his dreams.

Yet Navy stood before him, staring. The stare was all too familiar, that cold, guarded stare before he walked out of Orchid and Purple’s life.

“What?” Purple demanded, “what do you want? What right do you have to judge me?”

Navy said nothing. He should have said something by now. 

“Be gone with you!” Purple waved, “Do what you always do and just leave me already!”

To that, Navy’s gave a disappointed sigh.

“You can’t even keep your promises,” he said, “that’s it, I guess. I’m leaving.”

He turned and walked away into the void.

“What?” Purple never recalled him saying that before. He didn’t understand. “Wait!” Purple took a step forward. “What do you mean by that? Answer me!”

Navy kept walking; Purple couldn’t catch up. Despite telling him to leave, he still chased after his father.

What promise am I breaking?

When Purple awoke, he remembered his mother’s dying breath: she’d asked for Purple to take care of himself.

Sleeping in bed, shutting myself from the world, Purple’s heart hammered. I’m not keeping to that promise.

And he loathed that a dream version of Navy could be right! 

For the first time since he left his mother’s grave, the drive fueled him. He thought he lost it to grief. That dream, his father’s words criticizing his ineptitude, gave him something for his churning anger to sharpen itself against.

I’ll take care of myself, he thought, no, I’ll do better, I will thrive. He’d prove his father, those teens, and everyone who ever doubted and looked down on little Purple wrong!

He would be great.

Purple crawled out of bed. His muscles protested at the exertion he was unused to after months of laying around. He forced himself to hold his head high.

“How about…” Purple said as he spotted the remains of his and Orchid’s castle. “I finish that castle of mine.”

=

Purple wanted to play Minecraft legitimately. No cheats, no spawning things. He was going in to play like any other player. He had a new goal for his playthrough. He aimed to become a true king of Minecraft.

He started with only the essentials and got to mining. He had his basic goals set for making his kingdom: get enough cobblestone and wood to build his castle and starting houses, locate some villagers, and… well he hadn’t figured out step three yet, but the first two were going to be huge.

There were enemies. Fighting them wasn’t as bad as Purple initially feared. If anything, felling the zombies, creepers, and skeletons, then the tougher ghasts, endermen, and wither skeletons, made Purple feel powerful.  All those rusted fighting skills he neglected were sharpening and, for once, he enjoyed the combat. With the right equipment and enchantments, enemy encounters hardly concerned him.

He found some zombie villagers too and, desiring to build a village the proper way, successfully escorted and cured those zombie villagers. And, oh, how he was praised for his heroics! The cured villagers bowed to him as their savior, Lord Purple!

Not the pathetic Purple I was before now, huh? Purple thought, puffing his chest in pride.

But the joy never lasted. The glory he got from fighting turned dull as the enemies were no match for his sword. The villagers had children. Seeing happy little kids running around while their happy parents watched, filled Purple’s hollow heart with venom. Their praise towards his greatness suddenly felt shallow and fake, especially knowing how much he loathed to see them prosper when he still felt horrible.

It didn’t help that the next day, all those kids grew into adults. The very sight of this rapid aging caused Purple to retreat into his castle and remain there for three days. He glared at the wall, unable to sleep and failing to calm himself down. Once again, all the motivation deserted him, and a part of him wanted to burn this fake village and false castle to the ground.

“Why?” He asked a portrait of a bizarre wither skull formation, “why is it that I’ve accomplished so much more than I did in school, and I still feel this way?”

The skull painting did not answer, but Purple suspected it knew fully well why. 

Purple imagined his mother telling him that he was pushing himself too hard, but the thoughts of her words just made him curl further in a miserable ball. How could he enjoy even the false, temporary victories of a game when she wasn't there to see them?

Only Navy’s words spurred Purple out of his funk on the third day when he fell asleep. You can’t even keep your promises... 

“Right. Castle and village is done. I need a new goal,” he said and eyed the skull painting. It was such a peculiar piece that he wondered if it was a hint that if he made something like that he’d summon something like an iron golem. Something evil.

If so, if I make this and defend the village from this beast, Purple thought, then I’d be a legend to them!

Plus, he’d like a challenging fight for once. Time to visit the nether and grab some skulls.

=

“Ugh, finally!” Purple said as he successfully pried the third wither skeleton’s skull off and it didn’t disintegrate to ash. “I swear, hunting for skulls is such a pain.”

But he finally got three skulls and the soul sand. He was done with his nether trip. Time to head back and figure out what he’d summon-

Bang! Bang!

The nether caverns echoed with the sound of rhythmic thumping. Purple felt the walls around him tremble as the thumping grew louder and louder. He looked around, clutching the wither skull to his chest, as he tried to find the source of the noise.

“The hell is going on?” Purple gasped.

Suddenly, there was a scream. Purple only had a split second to turn towards that scream before a stick figure dressed in armor landed right on top of him and knocked him to the ground.

“Yeouch!” Purple wheezed. His health went down to half from the impact, and he shoved the stick figure off of him. Before he could get a good look at them, more screams were heard, and additional stick figures landed next to him, narrowly missing his battered body.

Why is it raining stick figures?! Purple looked bewildered between the group of stick figures. The green, blue, and yellow stick figures lay on the ground, their health at half a heart. The blue and yellow sticks were dazed, diamond armor shattered to pieces around them, while the green stick figure only had a cracked diamond helmet left.

The green one was moving, able to rise up because his fall was cushioned by landing right on Purple. He coughed, pushing himself on shaky arms and legs.

“Yellow? Blue? You-” he paused when his gaze met Purple’s. “-alive?”

Purple stared back and, unable to think of a better response, waved.

The stick figure, he presumed named Green given the naming convention, waved back. “Um, hi?”

Bang! Bang!

Purple and Green looked up at the ceiling where the noise came from. In the gloom, Purple could make out the stick figure shaped holes they fell through. A fine layer of dust fell from above.

“I take it you didn’t mine straight down,” Purple mumbled.

“Oh no!” Green forced himself up and ran to shake Blue and Yellow violently. “We don’t have time! Come on, get up!”

“What’s going on?” Purple asked, shouting over the thumping.

“Um, it’s a bit of a long story!” Green yelled back as he lifted Blue to her feet. She was waking, as was Yellow, but neither of them were in any good condition to stand for long.

“Condense it then!” Purple pulled out a potion of healing and threw it on them. The cloud restored their health to full instantly. The three stick figures leapt up, looking at their now healed bodies in shock.

“Woah! How did you do that?” Blue asked.

“Not now,” Purple waved his hands and pointed at the continuous banging above. “What is going on?”

“Ok! We found this game icon on our desktop!” Green explained, pulling out a sword. The tip cracked apart and caused him to pause as he tried to fix it.

“And we were building things with the stuff that came out,” Yellow picked up. They pulled their ax out, only to despair as it crumbled apart too, “taking turns and all that.”

“But when we gave the game icon to Red,” Blue said, staring ruefully at the busted bow in her hands. “She attacked us.”

“Attacked you?” Purple asked.

“Yeah, she wasn’t acting like herself!” Green rushed, “She just went wall eyed and hoarded the icon. We tried to stop her but…”

Bang! Purple heard blocks from above fall to the lava.

“She’s now piloting a giant block stick figure and ended up shoving us down here.” Yellow finished. 

“I don’t think we have much time before she follows us here,” Blue added, clutching her head. “Oh, what are we going to do?”

Yeah, that seems like your problem, Purple thought, heart hammering wildly. He wanted a fight earlier, but given the sounds of what was coming, he opted to flee. He turned about to run before Green snatched his arm.

“Let go of me!”

“Please! You don’t have to fight for us, but we don’t have weapons or armor!” Green said. He clasped his hands together. “Please, can you lend anything?”

“I don’t have any extra swords!” Purple exclaimed. “I barely have enough potions after all the fighting I did!”

Bang! The other stick figures looked nervously at each other, rifling desperately through their belongings and finding little to help, fishing rods, crafting tables, jungle trees…

Yeah, they’re screwed, Purple thought, looking for his way back to the desktop.

 “Look, I'm just going to head to the portal,” Purple said, “and if you guys have any sense, you’ll join me! Hopefully, Red will be too big to enter!”

The others looked at each other with mixed expressions, confusion, nervousness, and disdain.

“We can’t do that,” Green said, “she would be stuck here if we did that!”

“And how do you know she couldn’t smash her way through?” Yellow added.

Purple stared at Yellow and found himself glaring when he realized it made too much sense.

Ah! What do I do then? Purple thought, looking down at his wither skull helplessly. But as he stared at the empty eye sockets, Purple found an answer in them.

“Hold on,” he said, “I think I have an idea to help you with your problem.”

=

The plan was half baked given that they only had seconds to execute it. Yellow and Green set it up so they were ready to lure Red to the nether fortress while Purple and Blue made the wither skull statue.

Red came down from above and the very sight of the behemoth in obsidian blocks was almost enough for Purple to return to his “let’s flee to my village” idea.

“So, you are sure this thing we're summoning will be enough against her?” Blue asked.

Purple nodded even though he hadn’t a clue if the summoning would even work. “When we see their signal, just put down the last wither skull.”

Blue bit her lip, glancing from the obsidian stick figure chasing down Green, back to Purple.

“Is there a risk it would kill her?”

Purple blinked. “Aren't you trying to fight her?”

“Fight her, yes, not kill her!” Purple could see a glossy sheen form in Blue’s eyes. “I don’t know what will happen if she dies here.”

“She’ll respawn at her last checkpoint,” Purple said, but his stomach clenched. Assuming you have a respawn point set to begin with.

That didn’t give her any relief. Blue wordlessly sniffed and wiped her eyes.

In the distance, Purple saw the fishing rods fly and snag the head of the obsidian tower. “Ok, now!”

Blue placed the last head down. Upon doing so the statue turned into a three headed skeleton that let out a horrific howl. It glowed blue and was blinking rapidly.

Oh no…

“Uh, what do we do now?” Blue asked.

“Run!” Purple yelled, grabbing Blue by the hand and running away from the fortress. He cupped his hands and shouted at Yellow and Green. “Run!”

They could hardly react to the warning before a thunderous kaboom sounded behind Blue and Purple. The Wither was airborne, screeching and hurling hissing skulls right at them with wild abandon.

This is dumb! This is so dumb! Purple thought as he and the others scattered to dodge the projectiles. Why did I think summoning a giant enemy to fight another giant enemy was a good idea?!

The Wither did not discriminate. It targeted the stick figures as well as the obsidian figure. Its skulls landed right on the head and exploded it to bits. The explosion sent the red stick figure inside flying across the Nether.

Ah, I’m glad I didn’t summon that thing by my village! Purple thought. That thing is tearing through obsidian like tissue paper! 

Blue raced down the walkway and held out her arms to catch Red before she landed. Yellow jumped from a ledge above to snatch the Minecraft icon that was knocked out of Red’s hands. 

Despite receiving a skull missile to the face, Red was alive and kicking. She wasted no time in kicking Blue’s hold off of her and tearing after Yellow. Her expression was flat, yet her movements feral. She twitched and then lunged at Yellow, clasping at their leg. They fell to the ground with a thud and tossed the Minecraft icon further down the path.

“Oh, come on!” Purple lunged down and snatched the icon. Turning around, he saw the Wither gaining, and, in panic, he held the Minecraft icon. He visualized something stronger than obsidian, and, out from the icon, he blocked the attack with a wall of bedrock. 

He protected the group of wrestling stick figures from the impact, yet his action only earned Red’s attention. Locking her fixed expression on him, she let go of Yellow and charged at Purple.

“Ah! Green, catch!” Purple tossed it just as Red pounced on his back. “Get to the portal!”

Green caught it, and started running, using his fishing rod to move across the Nether’s gaps with ease. Red, no longer interested in Purple, raced after Green. She nearly closed the gap between them with her inhumane speed, only for her to be hit down by a skull volley from the Wither above.

“Red!” Yellow and Blue exclaimed, racing to her pick her up. Even injured critically, she continued to wrestle against them, eyes locked solely on Green and the Minecraft icon.

How is she not even down? Purple thought,  smacking the Wither’s volleys back as Blue and Yellow dithered.

“Come on! Leave her and get out of here!” Purple yelled.

“But-“

“No buts!” Purple turned and shoved the three over, pinning Red down to the ground. “To the portal now!”

It took a stern look and the Wither’s fast approach to cause the two to run off. Not like Purple could hold Red down long enough, as she shucked Purple off and raced after them. 

I can’t let her attack my village! He thought as he ran in pursuit. He lunged his sword at her, narrowly missing her back.

“Stop! Don't kill her!” Green shouted.

Of course that idiot waited by the portal! Stunned by his stupidity, Purple wasn’t ready for Red’s quick roundhouse kick to the hand. His enchanted sword clattered far away from him, and Red ran towards the stick figures just waiting by the portal.

“No! Stop!” Purple abandoned his sword, equally as stupid as Green. “Get in the portal! Hurry!”

So many things occurred at once- Red collided into her friends, knocking them into the portal frame; Purple bowled into her back, which shoved the group through it; and as they entered, the Wither hit the portal, closing it completely behind them.

The group fell sprawling on the desktop, gasping and grunting. Purple clutched his head, wincing at the sharp pain of hitting the ground. Before him, Green, Blue, and Yellow were slowly getting up. Green held the icon. It was shuddering in his hands, glowing a bright white before suddenly fading, as if the portal did something to it.

Red lay limp on the ground. Then suddenly she jerked and writhed. A translucent outline of a Steve player avatar leapt out of her repeatedly before finally falling to the ground. As it let out a dying breath, Purple caught sight of its dead, white eyes before it poofed away. 

Red was limp once more.The other three looked at her, expecting her to get up, but she remained still on the ground. They dropped the items they carried and crowded around her. Blue lifted her head up.

“Red? Red!” Blue jostled the stick figure.

“Come on, speak to us!” Green begged. Purple felt something form in his throat at the familiarity of his desperation.

“What’s happening to her health?” Yellow gasped as they held her hand. 

Indeed, all the hearts of Red’s health turned black and were ticking down. An effect called “withering” was applied on her.

It’s going to kill her! Purple realized and whistled loudly. The sound spooked the three grieving stick figures, but not as much as the sudden crowd of villagers appearing out of nearby houses did.

“Lord Purple? You’re back?”

“I need a bucket of milk, stat!” Purple hollered and clapped. “Don’t waste time! A stick’s dying here!”

And no time was wasted. The villagers were quick to mobilize and toss a milk bucket to Purple. He snatched it and quickly tossed it to Blue.

“Feed it to her!” Purple quickly exclaimed, “It’ll cure her ailment.”

Confusion gone, Blue brought the bucket to Red’s lips. Indeed, the milk stopped Red’s decaying heart meter just in the nick of time. With only half a heart left, the withering effect faded, and Red let out a shuddering cough.

“G-guys?” She croaked out.

“Red? Is it really you?” Yellow asked.

“Um, yeah,” Red looked around, dazed and then pained, “I’m so sorry for what I did…”

“Shh, no, no,” Blue hushed before pulling her into a hug. Green and Yellow also wrapped their arms around the two.

“I thought we’d lose you…” Green said, muffled.

Purple watched from the sidelines as the four hugged each other. He watched until his heart couldn’t bear the sight of it.

How lucky they are.

“You’ll have to share how you saved these folks,” a villager said as they stood next to him. 

“Yeah…” Purple couldn’t meet their eyes, “maybe later.”

He did a good deed, a brave one even! And yet he still felt horrid.

If only milk could cure a heartache too.

[hadesisqueer]

Honestly I thought we'd left the “Tai was neglectful” discourse back years ago.

Because yeah, he was. I get him: he was left by his first wife and her second one disappeared and never came back, and that he suddenly saw himself a single father of two, still having to work to support them while he was still grieving, and the only person who could help him probably had to keep his distance most of the time because he was afraid his bad luck would affect them. And I understand that he was incredibly depressed, and that he loves his daughters more than anyone in this world and that eventually he came back from it (we see him spending time with his daughters and reading stories to them in canon content), and Yang did say in volume 5 that her father was always busy with school, so I also assume that the guy worked a lot and that he always made sure Yang and Ruby had their basic necessities covered. But he did neglect Ruby and Yang emotionally for a while, and that did affect Yang. That's it. He's not a bad person, he just wasn't the best father for a while.

It's sort of like Willow. She was a caring mother for her children when their kids were little; Weiss really implied it. And seeing she is able to summon Grimm, I assume she could fight and that she even could have been the one who taught Winter how to do so (and Winter's original outfit seemed to be based off hers in portrait, so I assume they were close). But then Weiss' tenth birthday happened, and everything came crashing down. She became very depressed, and started drinking to numb that pain, becoming an alcoholic. I do feel bad for Willow; I know that she really does love all her children, and that in volume 8 she took a turn, stopped drinking and started repairing her relationship with at least two of her children. I know she's trying to be better now, but that doesn't change the fact that she was neglectful towards her kids as well. She didn't only allow Jacques to still abuse her those years, she also allowed her kids to be abused because she was usually to drunk or depressed to do anything. We saw that the closest thing to a proper mother figure Weiss had growing up was Winter herself, who was only fifteen when her mother shut down and had to take on that role. We've all also seen how Winter turned out, emotionally repressed trying to distance herself as much as she can from her entire family as possible, not just Jacques. And we saw Whitley; how lonely he felt because his sisters got to leave and he's stuck with their abusive father and their alcoholic mother, that he was so young when his mother shut down that he probably doesn't even remember when she was a loving mom, and how he at first could barely even stand being in the same room with Willow or her talking to him because he resented her.

They both made mistakes and that has shaped their kids being the way they are, not only because their mom left or died or because their father is abusive. That doesn't mean I hate them, of course. I love both Willow and Tai, I don't think they're bad people, I want to see their families heal and I wanna see them spend time with their kids, and most of all, I know that they'd give their lives if that meant seeing their kids safe because despite everything, I don't doubt that Tai loves Yang and Ruby and that Willow loves Whitley, Weiss and Winter as well, more than anything in the world. That's all.

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Loser Baby~ (Marxolor)

When I first heard this I thought to myself... "this is their song."

In the KBASW AU, they're very similar in nature, and they're brought together through circumstances... both are losers. And that is what makes their relationship so beautiful ~

And yes I changed some of the lyrics to fit Marx better~

Keep reading for extra lore/ spoiler-ish content

I've decided to hit two birds with one stone...knock out a few questions I had...

Yeah, the Marxolor/Magolor asks have been stewing in there... Sorry for taking so long but I FINALLY learned how to draw Magolor.

He plays a big role in the story... he is pretty much very close to his game counterpart, but his reasons and motivations for the Master Crown are very different.

The Master Crown was created and owned by his great-grandmother... Minerva Mim also known as... MAD MADAM MIM. (And for those who aren't familiar with Disney's The Sword in the Stone.) Who was the ruler of Halcandra during her time...

Magolor's full name is Magolor Mim

But she's also a mix with Harry Potter's Minerva McGonagall.

(And yes) she's connected with Lady Celestine (who is this KBASW Merlin), and they were best friends. She's the reason why the Ancients & Halcandrans did business. Halcandran techolong & the Ancients magic. A deal Sir Icarus tried to secure but could not negotiate at all...

However, Celestine managed to get it with ease... (*cough* bribed her way*. ) Over time they did become genuine friends... I'll expand on her later... In short, she was basically the only one whom Celestine told of her alter-ego, Merlyn (Sir Arthur figured it out).

She was snarky, eccentric, and a bit vain at times, but at her core was a good person.

Celestine brought out the best in her and Minerva brought out the adventurous side of her and encouraged her to be bolder. (BTW she was the number one Celarthur shipper).

However, after Celestine's "execution" (secretly they crystalized her): Minvera refused to do business with the GSA & the Ancients due to her friend's unfair trial... despite the threats they made to remove her from power if she continued to remain loyal to Celestine... but no matter how much they threatened her she still couldn't do it...

As a result, the Ancients removed her from her seat as ruler... and the GSA tried to arrest her for siding with a "traitor." However, she didn't go down without fighting. "If I can not have my crown... NO ONE CAN!" Cursing the crown that there will be no more another ruler of Halcandra... and using it to erupt the volcano that resided on the planet... creating its now, current state... becoming MAD MADAM MIM. (But in truth, she was just grieving... loss of her best friend. )

After that, the Ancients ordered to get rid of any descendant of Madam Mim's lineage. And thus the GSA hunted down and exterminated every living relative of Mim's household. However one survived the carnage.

Magolor is the lone survivor of his entire family's... orphaned and on the street... struggling to survive. He did everything to keep himself afloat... even if he had to BEG, STEAL, OR BORROW. HE'D DO IT!(There are a few more things... Magolor had a connection to the Sqeak Squads and Daroach, but that's a story for another day.)

Eventually, he finds out about his heritage and the fact that his whole household was wiped out due to... HER LOYALTY TO ONE PERSON. BAH, DANG IT GRAN WHAT WERE YOU THINKING I COULDA BEEN A KING AND YOU THREW IT AWAY FOR FRIENDSHIP?! From that, you can probably see why Magolor isn't so keen on the value of it since the very thing pretty much wiped out his entire family... And thus began Magolor's search for the crown...

Magolor's betrayal, & redemption does happen like in the game:... does his little shop, makes his amusement park. However, he does a few extra things that connect to the Kirby anime... Magolor manages to revive Chill and rebuild Kirby's robot dog for him (episode 12). (After that, the gang was won over by Magolor...)

Kirby's robo-pet is actually a big thing in the KBASW, he's basically the equivalent of Kirby's iPad/computer.

With this Magolor is fully redeemed, but his arc's not quite done just yet... he still can't help but feel something is missing in his life. Yes, he's learned the value of friendship and junk... he has friends now but... How could he still feel alone when he was people around him.. a feel that he could only describe as underlining emptiness.

Enter Marx. And as I said in the Marx post... Marx saves Kirby ( I won't say from whom yet but) he gets injured the gang wants to help him but... He didn't want a pity party and tried to get away.

Marx: I DON'T NEED YOUR HEL-! *FACE PLANTS ow...

Everyone: You need our help~

Marx wasn't comfortable staying in Dreamland to recover (he knows people *cough* Bun wouldn't take too kindly of him returning), so to compromise, they cashed in a favor from Magolor... Resulting in Marx being delivered by the gang... via kitten in a basket.

Kirby: Hi Mags, this is Marx... Do you think you can watch him for a bit he's we just need you to watch him so he can recover.

Magolor: Okay, sure... but why is he in a basket?

Marx: HISS *shuts the cover*

Meta Knight: He wanted something with a lid on it.

Mags: Oh~kay *picks up basket* I guess you guys can pick him up when he gets better?

Magolor hoped whatever feral creature they had him watching wouldn't be that much trouble or, at the very least, not bite... but Magolor was pleasantly surprised that Marx seemed... to match him quite perfectly...

Shared his love of ancient relics & magic, sarcastic humor, and a wick wittiness similar to his own. And not just interest but personality-wise as well. Marx had an unapologetic straightforwardness that he appreciated, along with a few oddities that he found strangely endearing...This unexpected guest seemed to fit seamlessly into his life... it actually felt nice to have a companion like this.

Marx at first didn't know what to expect when he was dropped off at Halcandranss doorstep. He assumed that he was being sent to some sort of happy hospital facility, where they were gonna baby him and be monitored 24-7. NO FREEDOM AT ALL, HE'S JUST GONNA BE A CAGED ANIMAL!

But no Mags allowed him to do as he pleased... once he realized that he tried to pretty much annoy Magolor into kicking him out. Using his natural crass, sass, and of course, pranks to do it, however, Magolor didn't fall for any of them. Remaking at each of them describing them as "cute"...

Magolor: Nice try, but... You're not gonna to trick this trickster~

Marx: WHAT!?

Marx assumed Kirby that Magolor was another goody-two-shoes, but... did they bring him to some anti-prank master's house. He should've been angry, but he couldn't help but be impressed. It didn't take him long to stop his fruitless effort... there was nothing else to do but wait till he had a chance to escape.

Marx: "Nothing else, Just sitting and watching this guy... uh what is that you're working on... " leaving being instantly enamored and captivated with Magolor's work. Marx's interest and fascination with Ancient Technology is what drove him to use the Galactic Nova in the first place... which sparked Marx's interest and forgetting his original plans to escape.

Which led him to discover all the similarities they had... However, there was this secret unknown wall the other had up. Wanting to keep there both their "unsavory past beginnings with Kirby."

Magolor didn't want to scare Marx away especially when he was finally starting to get comfortable with him. And Marx not wanting to screw up another friendship he was starting to make, by revealing what he was. Both did not want to ruin the only good thing they had in a while.

When finally Marx recovered, Mags was just about to call Kirby and the gang, and immediately Marx pretended to still be sick. Visibly nervous when the check-in call comes in. This doesn't go unnoticed by Magolor,... so when it comes time to call up Kirby for the update, he buys him more time.

Magolor: I gotcha another week...

Marx: Wait, what...

Magolor: Listen I don't think I can get you another when the time comes so... so you think you can tell me what's going on... Kirby's a nice guy I'm sure he'll-

Marx: But I'm not-

This leads Marx to tell Mags everything about the whole "NOVA FIASCO," and Magolor is just speechless as he reveals each detail. Marx loner he spoke couldn't help but feel like he sunk in even deeper believing he blew it again...

Waiting with bated breath for Magolor to answer expecting him to respond in disgust... only with him to respond with. "Yo, same!"

Thus leading Magolor to reveal his past with the Kirby & the Master Crown, along with his road to redemption. This gives Marx a little hope, but not as much confidence that he could do what Magolor did... But Mags assures him that he's still a work in progress himself and that if he wants to be better he should give himself the chance to do better... after all the first step is always the hardest.

Needless to say, everything works out but even after the whole thing, Marx is still hanging out with Magolor... Hmmm... I wonder why! :3

Thanks again to everyone for sticking around and being patient with the asks... I know I'm taking a while to answer (and the things I promised to be done aren't... sorry, my work schedule is hectic.)

I've kinda hit a bit of a roadblock with the fanfic's art style and recently have been wanting to change it up... but anyhow I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually. (So for now I'm trying to knock out a few more asks).

Hope you enjoy the content and have a great day~

[kodydrs]

Sunflower Juice - Sabo

a/n: title has nothing to do with the story. sabo just reminds me of Sunflowers. I am incredibly out of practice when it comes to writing smut, and the ending is lowkey shit bc i kept reading it in my ex’s voice 😭

ib: this prompt from Portgas.D•Xiao’s on on Chai. “sabo just finished drinking with his friend, after he drank some alcoholic water he started to get drunk, then he wanted to go to his room and he saw you in the hallway And he started coming closer to you and hug you from behind.

warnings : fxm, sabo x fem reader, mdni, drunk sex, slight oral (f. recieving), vaginal fingering, p in v, hickies, (a lot of) pet names, you dated ace b4 his d3ath, reader is still kinda grieving ace’s death, she’s a bipolar abt her emotions as i am (it’s not funny guys, i’m actually bipolar), no use of y/n, not proofread, i’m bad at tagging

You flinch at the sudden attack.

‘ahh!’

It takes you a minute to realise who has just latched themselves onto you.

‘oh Sabo. it’s just you.’

You’d known Sabo for a little while. Ever since Ace’s death, you’d travelled with Luffy and the Straw Hats, and you’d met Sabo along the way. You wouldn’t say you’re exactly the closest of friends, but you both respected each other. But you did you best to keep a healthy distance because damn did he remind you of Ace.

‘Yeah. It’s just me. What are you doing here?’ You're not supposed to be alone right now.’ You felt his grip tightens around your waist slightly as he looks down at you. ‘Are you okay? Do you need anything?’

You turn to face him, confusion obvious on your face. But upon breathing in, you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

‘Sabo. Are you drunk?’ It’s more of a rhetorical question. It’s clear from how thick his breath feels. He wobbles a little to really upkeep the act.

‘Mmmm. Yeah. Maybe just a little bit.’ He pauses. ‘But I’m drunk with you so it’s fine.’

You go to say something to him, but you stop, deeming it useless.

‘Let’s just get you back to your room.’

He grumbles, audibly in decline of your offer.

‘But I don’t wanna go back to my room. I wanna spend more time with you.’

You can feel his arms trying to pull you closer to him like you aren’t already pressed tightly to him. He seems to give up on his efforts by resting his head on your neck and you can again smell the alcohol, reminding you of his drunk state. You groan.

Your plan for the night had been to hang out with Namu & Robin, but Nami got swept away by the Straw Hats stupid chef and Robin got distracted by Chopper's constant tangents. This left you sitting alone at a table with nothing but your thoughts. Your thoughts about how lonely you’d become since joining the Straw Hats. Now all you wanted to do was get to bed and sleep.

‘Sabo. Can you please just go to your room? I’m not in the mood for socialising right now.’ He pouts, nuzzling against your skin.

‘Don’t leave me all alone out here, please.’ He grabs your hands gently and place them on your stomach, holding them there. With a final long sigh, you give up.

‘Fine.’ He lets out a happy chuckle and spins you around, kissing you deeply on the lips for a few seconds before pulling away.

‘Yay!!’ He shrieks. He leans forward and hugs you tight once more, squeezing you so hard you can barely breathe.

You stand frozen in time, stunned by his actions.

‘S-Sabo??!’ He looks down at you with a confused look.

‘Yes. What is it? Are you hurt? Did I do somethi-‘ You cut him off by smashing your lips together, grasping his face tightly. He responds back with equal force and passion. Before you know it, his hands are everywhere. They’re gripping your hair, holding you hips, pressed to your spine.

You pull away, gasping for air. Letting it set in, you touch your lips. ‘Holy fuck.’ You think. ‘I just kissed my boyfriends brother.’

He looks down at you, not processing what the situation they’re really in is.

‘Hey. Why’d you stop? What’s wrong?’ You should protest, but you’re honestly too pent up to care right now.

‘Ah fuck it.’ Without resistance, you grabbed him by the collar and dragged him down the hallway to his room. You locked the door behind you and pinned him to it, crashing you lips back against each others.

The way you're kissing him makes him forget everything else around them. All he wants right now is to make love to you.

‘Oh god.’ He moans softly while wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing himself harder against you. You hum at his hand placement, getting intoxicated on the taste of his lips. He’s been drinking sunflower juice. His abdomen tensed as you ran your fingers along the divots in his abs. His excitement is evident in the way his hips bucked against you and you fail to push backs grin, grinding against his pelvis.

‘I want you so badly.’ He whispers in your ear.

‘Then take me.’ He pulls back, smug face as he looks down at you.

‘Yeah?’

Your voice is breathy and sweet, filled with the sudden need to be touched you’ve so desperately missed.

‘…yeah.’ He smirks mischievously and leans forward, placing one hand behind your neck and pulling you close enough that your noses touch.

‘Tell me what you want baby.’ He growls lowly into your ear, not breaking eye contact even though he's drunk as hell. Your mouth gapes at how hot he sounds right now.

‘oh fuck’ You whisper. ‘I want you to touch me, Sabo.’

With a sly smile on his lips, he brings his hand down and runs it down your arm, stopping at your hand and interlocking your fingers with his. He then brings your joined hands up to his chest, where he kisses them both.

‘Any particular way?’

Your voice is sickeningly sweet, and your words drip like honey.

‘Like you want me.’

His eyes light up in hunger and he once again slides his hand down to your hip, feeling every curve of your body.

‘Like I want ya, huh?’ He leans in to you, gently pressing his lips against your neck. ‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’ He takes your wrists and wraps them around his neck before hoisting you up like you weight nothing so your thighs also wrap around him. You pepper his neck with kisses as he brings you over to his bed and lays you down, straddling your hips.

You gasp as you watch him strip off his shirt and coat, revealing the chiselled abdomen you’d been tracing earlier. He laughs at your reaction before leaning back down and reconnecting your lips. Your hands move to his hair, tugging at the base of his scalp. He doesn’t break the kiss as he lifts your shirt to reveal your perk breasts. Instead, he runs his tongue along your teeth and sucks on your lower lip, basking in the heat radiating from your bodies. It’s driving him crazy.

He kisses down your neck into the valley between your breasts, massaging them gently. Your hands continue to tug at his hair, soft whimpers going straight to his dick.

You groan as he continues his journey down your stomach to the waistband of your pants, where he stops and looks up at you for approval.

‘Please.’ He grin. You nod. ‘Alright then.’ He slowly pulls them down, revealing your soaked panties.

‘So pretty.’ He cooes, kissing dangerously close to your core. He shimmies you out of your pants and then pushes aside your panties, tracing teasing circles around your clit with this tongue. Your thighs instinctively try to close around his head, but he pins them apart, not letting them interrupt his meal.

‘Be a good girl, baby. Good girls get good things.’ You can feel yourself melt under his touch. You’re embarrassed from how easily your legs are shaking due to being so touch starved, but you can’t really focus on that right now.

Your back arches as 2 fingers are inserted into your cunt, stretching you. And it takes everything to not cum right there and then.

‘You alright there, babygirl?’ Sabo laughs, hooking an arm around your thigh and nipping at the skin. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, breathing deeply.

‘I just haven’t had sex in a while.’

‘We’ll take it slow. I wanna make this last.’ Slowly, his fingers pump in and out, letting you ease around them while he continues to kiss and nibble on your thighs, leaving little pink and purple marks that you’ll find in the morning. After a few minutes, he adds a third digit, watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t hurting you in any way. Your heads tilted to the side and you make eye contact, the lustful gaze drawing you in. He smiles and kissed back up your body to your neck.

‘Are you ready for me? Or do you wanna wait a little longer?’ You wrap your arms back around his neck, pulling him down into a chaste kiss.

‘I’m ready.’ You whisper, pressing your foreheads together. ‘But please don’t be harsh.’

He nods and kisses you deep but slowly as he pulls his fingers from your cunt. You hear the rustle of clothes from him removing his pants and boxers before feeling his tip graze your entrance.

‘Do you want a countdown?’ He teases, grinning at his own joke. You smile, hitting his shoulder and murmuring a quiet “asshole”. He slowly pushes himself past your entrance to your warm insides, revealing in the intense heat.

‘Shit.’ He curses against your lips. ‘Damn, you feel amazing.’ You try to reply, but all that comes out is a moan. ‘Are you ok? Can I move?’

You hum, already leaving scratches on his back from blunt nails. He carefully starts to move, burying himself deeper with each thrust and it drives you insane. It isn’t long before you feel your stomach twist into knots.

‘S-Sabo… gonna cum.’ You whimper, nuzzling into his neck.

‘Already, baby? Can you hold on for a little so we can do it together?’ He gets a babble for a reply, mixed with a harsh kiss to his jaw. ‘Good girl. You’re taking me so well, baby.’ He brings one hand to your face, gently stroking your face. He touch is comforting, and you feel him pick up his pace so you get to finish as soon as you want.

‘Fuck.’ He mumbled under his breath. ‘Shit. Do you want me to pull out or no?’

‘I-I don’t mind. Whichever you prefer.’ You babble. He nods.

‘I’ll come inside then, if that’s ok with you.’

A hum seals you fate as you feel yourself tip over the edge, quickly followed by feeling your insides filled to the brim. Your back arches at a ridiculous angle, pressing your chests together. Sabo rails you through your orgasm until you're a choked-up, panting mess. Not that he’s any different. He pulls out with a grunt and flops next to you, taking a minute to collect his breath before he stands to grab something to clean you both up.

In the few minutes you’re left alone, you want to cry. The way his touch felt on you felt so familiar and so comfortable, and the knowledge it was all caused by a drunk haze made you wanna cry. Tears collected on your lower lashes as you did your best not to let them spill.

‘Hey.’ Sabo cooes, leaning down beside you while he cleans up your legs. ‘What’s wrong, hun? Why are you crying?’

You shake your head, covering your face.

‘I’m not. It’s nothing. It’s just-‘ You stop, looking away from his gaze. ‘I miss him like freaking crazy, Sabo.’

The blond smiles, putting aside his cleaning supplies and lying next to you.

‘Same. Everyday.’ For a moment, it feels as if this isn’t a drunk conversation, but instead 2 people bonding through grief. You roll so you’re facing him, forehead pressed against his chest. ‘But I do wanna be able to protect you like he did.’

One of his hands strokes your hair gently, carefully tugging out any tangles. You’ve stopped crying, just listening to the quiet thump of your heartbeats.

‘Sabo?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I wanna learn to love you, the same way I loved him.’

A soft hum comes from above you and you feel his lips press against your temple. His arms wrap around you gently, keeping you warm.

‘Ok.’

©kodydrs

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated

[alienguts]

Kintsugi (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce takes Y/N out for lunch to make up for his moping.

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of breakups, feelings and shit

Request?: sort of, a few people asked for a sequel so here we are

A/N: I haven't been writing a whole lot recently because I had a lot of work and study related things to do, but that's now over and I have a five day weekend ahead of me so I can finally get things done!

1 - Picking Up the Pieces | 2 - Kintsugi | 3 - Stay with Me

Bruce had lost track of how many times he’d looked at his watch in the past hour while sitting alone in the cafe. Y/N did say that she would be running late, but he didn’t think she meant this late. He decided to wait another twenty minutes before texting to see where she was. 

Is this what being stood up feels like? Bruce wondered, thinking back to the numerous times he’d skipped out on meetings and dates for other commitments. His mind couldn’t help but drift back to the times he’d stood Y/N up for other commitments, whether that was work at Wayne Enterprises, the Batsignal, or another woman.

Guilt washed over him as he remembered how disappointed she’d been when he turned down her offers to hang out, not noticing when she was in need of a friend or for him to be more than a friend. He’d never realised how lonely she was and had always tried to push the sad look in her eyes from his mind, but he’d been so blinded by love - no, lust, desperation - to see that she was the one who’d supported him this whole time, who truly understood him and knew what his soul looked like.

He was just about to leave when the door clicked open and a rush of footsteps approached him. Bruce looked up from his phone, about to text Y/N when he saw her standing in front of her, her hair a mess from the wind and her shoulders shuddering with each breath.

“I tried to get here as fast as I could,” she said between pants. “There was an accident a few blocks down so I had to take a detour.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce said, smiling softly as he stood up to greet her. “I’ve been late for everything so it gives me a taste of my own medicine.”

Y/N let out a huge sigh of relief and took the chair across the table from Bruce, sinking into it as her muscles relaxed again. She briefly looked around at their surroundings, feeling a little out of place in the cafe Bruce had picked. She was used to frequenting diners and Starbucks rather than the grand patisseries that Bruce could afford.

“I already ordered for us,” Bruce said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Y/N said, smiling at him. “You always know what I like anyway.”

His heart fluttered when she smiled at him. It felt like something that had been missing his whole life but had been there the whole time. 

If only he hadn’t been so foolish not to see it.

Their lunch date was just like old times: two old friends talking about how their lives had been and what they were planning to do later on in the week. It was as if they’d never been apart, as if Bruce had never taken Y/N’s friendship for granted. He’d pretty much forgotten about the events of the night before and he’d almost forgotten about Selina. Almost.

That wound in his heart wasn’t likely to heal any time soon, and rushing into something with Y/N wouldn’t be fair for her. He needed time to grieve the relationship and piling all of that onto her would be a bad start to a new relationship. Especially one with his oldest and best friend.

“Y/N,” he started after an extended quiet moment. “I wanted to apologise to you.”

“What for?” Y/N asked, stopping as she reached for her cup.

“For taking you for granted for all this time.”

Y/N shot him a confused look. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

“Every time I went through a rough patch in a relationship or a breakup, I would always come running to you for comfort,” Bruce said, keeping eye contact with her so she could see how sincere he was. “But I never did the same for you. Whenever you needed someone to be there for you, I wasn’t.”

“Maybe I didn’t need someone to be there for me,” Y/N said. “I know how busy you are.”

“Yes, but a true friend would drop everything for a friend who needs them. And I’m sorry that I was never there for you.”

“Bruce, you don’t have to be sorry for anything, I understand why you can’t always be around whenever I’m moping.”

“But I should be,” Bruce said, drawing the attention of some of the other diners around them. “I should be there for you because you’re always there for me. I feel like I’ve taken advantage of you and I don’t want to keep doing that.”

“I don’t want you to either,” Y/N said, her voice quiet as she looked down at the table. “I cried so much when you left last night. I felt like I was stuck in this endless loop of you breaking up with someone and coming to cry on my shoulder before going off to the next one.”

And I want to be the next one, she stopped herself from saying. Her throat felt thick like she’d swallowed a spoonful of molasses and couldn’t get it to go down. She wanted to tell Bruce how she felt about him, but not right in the middle of a cafe and not when he’d just been left at the altar. It would probably eat her up inside until she felt the time was right, but she’d endure it. Even if that meant waiting years for Bruce to be ready to love again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her back to the room with him. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I want to be a better friend to you and I’m going to be a better friend.”

When Y/N didn’t respond, Bruce excused himself from the table to pay for the cheque. A single tear spilt from her eye once he was far away enough for her to not notice and was quickly wiped away with a napkin. This wasn’t how she had hoped the afternoon to go, and she was sure it wasn’t how Bruce wanted it to go either. After making sure she didn’t look like she was on the verge of tears, she gathered her things and joined Bruce at the counter who was ready to go.

“You feeling okay?” he asked when she approached him. She just nodded in reply. “We should get going.”

Bruce drove Y/N home and walked her up to her apartment, keeping close to her every step. His fingers brushed against hers occasionally, sending sparks up his arm and making his body run warm. They walked up the stairs to her floor in silence, the sound of their footsteps the only sound until they reached Y/N’s apartment and she fished her keys out of her pocket.

“Lunch didn’t end the way we’d hoped, huh?” Bruce said, trying to lighten the mood. “I really am sorry. About yesterday. And today.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said. “You’ve been hurt, you probably haven’t been thinking clearly.”

“Thanks for understanding, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said in response before stepping forward to hug him.

Bruce eagerly accepted her hug, wrapping his strong arms around her tightly and resting his cheek on the top of her head. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo and the perfume that he knew she always dabbed behind her ears and let himself relax into her body. Hugging Y/N felt natural to him, but for some reason, it felt even more natural now. Like she was home and was welcoming him back to her after being away for so long. 

Without thinking, he shifted his head to softly kiss the top of her head and let his lips linger before she moved away from him. She looked at him wide-eyed, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her response before letting her gaze move down to his lips. Her chest rose and fell as her heartbeat sped up and Bruce moved one of his hands from her back to her face, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek and moving to gently hold her jaw. Just as he leaned his face into hers, her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted, waiting for him to make contact.

She felt his forehead against hers first, then his nose brush against hers before he softly captured her lips. Her heart skipped a beat before she relaxed into him, returning his kiss. It was gentle and chaste, but exactly what she’d wanted for years. And all it took was the man she’d loved her whole life getting left at the altar by her rival in love.

The kiss was over just as soon as it had begun. Bruce had pulled away from her just enough to still feel his breath on her skin, his hands still on her but full of restless energy. She knew he would have to go but she just wanted one more minute of feeling like he was hers.

“I should get going now,” Bruce said, his voice soft and quiet. “Alfred will be wondering why I’m taking so long.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said as she let him move away from her. “Um, we should do this again soon.”

No, it’s too soon, Y/N, she told herself.

“Y’know, when you’re ready, of course,” she added quickly. Bruce smiled at her and took her hand.

“I’ll always make time for you,” he said warmly. “I told you, I want to make up the past ten years to you.”

“I’d like that,” she said as she opened her apartment door behind her and slowly backed into it. “So, see you soon?”

“See you soon,” Bruce said and watched her go before making his way down the hall and stairs and back to his car.

Once the door had closed, Y/N again slid down against it, this time in triumph rather than sorrow. It was too early to know for sure, but she knew that she didn’t have to live in dread of Bruce blowing her off for some other fling again. She finally knew what it was like to be close to him, to have him kiss her, even if it was so briefly. Her fingers drifted up to her lip, still tingling from his kiss as if she couldn’t believe that it had happened. But it had, and hopefully, it would happen many more times in the future.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I need a fic where Mav actually stays in a relationship with Charlie and they've been together for years (sometimes on and off) and then suddenly Carole dies and Mav is made a guardian to a grieving kid, his last connection to his found family

And they try at first with Charlie but she didn't really think about having kids and definitely not kids that aren't even theirs from start to finish. And like, she's nice but she keeps on acting more like an aunt that comes around twice a year, not like someone who is supposed to be a parental figure, and Mav and she realize that we've built their relationship on lust and what is convenient and not actually on love. Because it was easy to be with each other, because they would travel around and never really spend more than half a year together, but they both had someone to go back to, they both felt less lonely.

And he's best friends with Ice (and reluctantly with Slider) and Ice starts to chip in here or there as Uncle Ice and helps around but Mav never tells him how bad it's getting, both with Bradley and Charlie.

Cue a break up, and Mav still doesn't say anything to Ice, he and Charlie stay friends but she moves out and Mav is alone with all that shit and not really having a grip on everything - bills, the day-to-day chores, what do once he's going to be deployed again, Bradley grieving his mom, Mav himself grieving Carole

It all comes crashing down with something ridiculous like Mav was driving Bradley to school and he was already late and he was so tired he didn't notice he left the house in his slippers until he walked into the office on base. Someone makes fun of him and he just cracks and cries in the locker room for like half an hour until Ice finds him and asks him to tell him how it is for real

And they start to do a lot of shit because 'its convenient' or 'Ice is just being a good friend, shut up Kerner'. And before they know it, they live together, share a car, take turns taking Bradley to school and going to PTA and to grief counseling and baseball matches, and share chores and they share bills and their whole schedule is just theirs.

And then they move stations for the first time since Mav got Bradley and his school requested parent info and he just asks 'yeah, but which one of you do I put under dad?'

And Mav has an existential crisis right there while unpacking boxes in the kitchen because they are not even together

[electricsynthesis]

Were they bullied as a kid

allura: No. allura’s childhood involved getting everything she wanted it as soon as she wanted it except for companionship with people her age. she was not a super social child generally & was further isolated from other kids due to her status (she couldn’t even be around them without guards) so her only friends were cousins her age. They were all enough older than her to a) be kind of annoyed with her and b) annoyed that her existence took away their shot at being heir of altea. But that was more awkward than anything else

pidge: she may be witty and sarcastic Now but as a child she was equally as embarrassingly earnest as any other child . Things she was also: absolutely convinced she was smarter than everyone else (and conspicuously right) and deeply. Deeply awkward. combine that with her nerdy interests and the Transgenderism and you’ve got a recipe for an absolutely debilitating combination of her peer group being unmotivated to get close to her & to grow to resent her . I think she got Girl Bullied. the other girls decided she was not part of the In Group and did the things they do best: spread false rumors about her, poisoned her reputation, mocked and belittled her and generally made being her friend Uncool. pidge was the social pariah. and pidge did what every smart kid turned into the pariah does: she became a misanthrope. she decided that people don’t like her because she’s smarter— better— than them. she pretends this makes it easier to bear the loneliness, but she tells herself that she isn’t lonely. she doesn’t need anyone, remember? other people arent important & she doesn’t need them. another result of this is that even well into her adolescence pidge still considers herself to, socially, be more alien to other girls than she is to men. hence why she felt she needed to pose as a boy; but in the process she realized that despite what people Say about trans girls, she wasn’t really “socialized” the way amab men are either . Her time in the garrison, while not having any bullying, makes her feel like even more of an alien, to everyone. Her only solace is her family. Except…. You know…….

hunk: no actually he wasn’t. hunk was a shy kid who was nice & polite to everyone he spoke to. he struggled to make friends, and more generally to keep them, but nobody disliked him. he caught some flak for his weight inevitably but this never stuck because hunk isn’t actually as easy a target as he seems. everytime someone picked on him he’d commit social warfare and would tell everyone how mean he thought that was & how sad it made him and the other kids would generally be like Yeah making fun of you for how you look is like… bad… I guess… and then the kids picking on him would either a) shamefaced stop or b) kick it up a notch until hunk can whine to the teacher. Hunk was lucky in that instead of escalating things this usually just put them in uncomfortable “get along” situations with the school counselor that the kids picking on him Hated So Much they wanted to avoid at all costs and ergo left hunk alone

keith: I don’t think keith attended public school until middle school and you combine this utter lack of socialization with his angry nature + the fact that he’s a grieving preteen who watched his dad die + the fact that he’s a child savant and you have a lovely combination for a child who is so bullied it’s actually kinda stupid. the kids at the orphanage. The kids at school . His foster siblings. Keith has a talent and a knack for pissing people off. I don’t think keith did it on purpose at first; he defended smaller kids. bit back harder than was warranted when people were mean. Said things he didn’t realize were blunt. He got beat up one too many times and started hitting back. and hitting back hard! but eventually he got into so many fights that the reasons why they start stopped mattering. keith starts assuming every social interaction is going to end in violence. this thought process causes keith to jump to violence quicker than your average joe which causes keith to end more social interactions with violence which causes keith’s idea that every social interaction is going to end in violence to be reinforced. As he gets older the lines between “being bullied” and “bullying people” gets continuously blurred. Lucky for him the garrison being such a competitive environment & him crushing every other student ever of all time causes keith to get so bullied again it’s almost stupid. people start doing shit like stealing his wallet and dumping mud on his uniform, which is a brand of bullying he just isn’t used to. He’s like. Can we fight? they’re like no! We’ll get in trouble for fighting! steal his gym shoes instead. throw out his homework. break into his locker. and keith is like what the HELL. FUCK you. and finds them and punches them out. So to the administration the Who’s bullying who thing is unclear and by unclear I mean Keith is universally blamed entirely always

lance: lance pingponged in terms of social standing so wildly I think it explains like half of his insanity. lance, at any given point in his childhood, was in one of two social positions:

1. the class clown that’s absolutely adored by everyone, even when they’re laughing at him, even when they’re rolling their eyes. the teachers favorite. endlessly charming and always performing like a court jester vying for his king’s approval

2. so intensely disliked for being “loud” and “obnoxious” that he’s mocked by the class. Whatever kid has learned sarcasm the most recently will pipe up everytime he makes a joke with a witty comment that everyone laughs at. his friends drop him, the teacher sends him to the office for being disruptive, and he’s generally considered annoying by all

when in position 2 he’s viciously making himself Louder and More Eyecatching in an attempt to claw himself back to the peak of position 1. when in position 1 he’s constantly terrified waiting for his inevitable crash back down to earth into position 2. It’s a beautifully vicious cycle because his overcompensatory peacocking gets him into both positions really really fast depending on how anxious he feels. He spent his garrison days pretty perpetually in position 2 because his jealous insecurity re: keith and everyone else who’s also better than lance causes him to be a troglodyte asshole about 75% of the time . Lance has trouble hanging onto friendships because of this so hunk is his rock socially but hunk was fucking Tested during the garrison era because lance Would Not Stop bragging talking himself up lashing out etc

shiro: Had friends growing up. Doesn’t struggle to make friends. Wasn’t ousted socially. is generally liked by people with this almost mythical intensity. People cannot help but put shiro on this gigantic pedestal & this has been true since childhood. people see him and see him shrouded in heavenly light and smiling gently. He’s so nice. He’s well behaved. He’s responsible. Yet he has a charisma that just draws everyone in. shiro wasn’t just popular as a kid. He was The Popular Kid. he knew everyone. everyone loved him . and it shows. It shows.