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#It comes with being the oldest child I guess but he's just so smart and capable
kakusu-shipping · 2 years
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YESSSS I agree with everything you said on your post!!! He’s underrated and deserves SO much appreciation!! People usually water down his character to just “Class 1-A’s Hater”, and that infuriates me to the core tbh. So it’s always a treat to find someone who likes Monoma in any regard nowadays. I’d like to hear any Headcannons you have for him!
And I have the Dad approval too??? How sweet! I’m just imagining Maes Hughes from FMAB, and the way he has tons of photos of his daughter in his coat, and you doing the same w the best boy🥺
I’m mainly on my Monoma BS today due to scrolling the tag and having said DND game tonight! (If you are ever intrigued by it, feel free to ask questions I don’t mind!) ALSO ALSO!! the announcement of him getting a Funko Pop, did you hear?? It looks pretty good.
Oh my god????
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OH MY GOD??????
It's a hot topic exclusive though fuck off!!!! augh!!!
I have Neito's Banpresto figure, he's on my desk along with the Fatgum funko. But good god I might had to drive 2 hours to get a Neito funko from Hot Topic and it would be worth it....
I was actually very pleasantly surprised to find Neito has a pretty good cult following! Good amount of fanart, fics, X readers, he's the most popular boy in 1-B, maybe even the most popular character in 1-B period. Which is funny because knowing that would upset him to no end. How DARE the rest of his class not share in his spotlight!
I have no real strong headcanons for Neito, I'm always so wishy-washy on locking in HCs for favorites, especially my wonderful son boy, but here's some thoughts I have;
I land on trans Neito a lot. Realized he was a he very young, like before he was in Elementary young, and refused to hear otherwise ever. He's very strong headed like that. Very proud of him
I think he keeps a notebook to keep track of all his friend's favorite things and what he knows about them, he had a hard time making friends in middle school, and he swears to make UA different!
He's a great friend to all, so if you asked him about his best friend he'd probably struggle to pick just one.
If he were to give them a chance I think he'd get along great with Ojiro and Aoyama from 1-A, but he's just so stubborn. In another life they'd probably hang out. Same with Mei Hatsume from the Support Course? Similar energies.
He looks up to Mirio, because he's in class 3-B, and a member of the so called "Big Three", showing that class B is just as strong as class A. Mirio's blunt and doesn't like Neito, so he's very rude. It's half the Autism and half one time Neito used Tamaki as an example of class A's pathetic weakness and Mirio will just never forgive him for it. Poor Neito just wants approval from a cool upperclassman.
Anything can be fixed with chocolate, is a Neito classic. One of his classmates feeling down? Talk over some hot coco. Someone (Tetsu) locked up in their dorm cramming for the quiz tomorrow? Leave a chocolate bar and a water bottle at their door. Went a little too rough on his insults and made someone actually upset? Chocolate apology basket.
Neito does know there is a limit, and if he crosses it, he has a really hard time with verbal apology. He doesn't want to make class 1-B look BAD though, so he'll make his best effort to correct if he did something over the line. As discreetly as possible. Usually gifts and, as stated above, chocolate.
Neito knows Japanese, French, English, JSL, ASL, and Mandarin. He learned most of them to make communication in his class easier (Kuroiro and Bondo are more often non-verbal, Pony's Japanese is rough at the best of times, and Rin replaces words with Mandarin randomly mid sentence without noticing), but learned French just for himself. He wants to take the class on a trip to Paris someday
When in a relationship Neito is very boastful about the slightest hint of PDA. Holding hands walking to class? He's going to make a big deal of it, the entire walk, and of course praise you the entire time. He goes above and beyond on the encouragement for a partner. You can do no wrong in his eyes.
I'd also love to hear your Neito headcanons if you have any as well!!
And yes PLEASE tell me about MHA DnD, I've never played DnD before, I know the bare minimum about it, so I don't know what to ask but please smash into the ask box and tell me all bout it.
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star-girl69 · 1 year
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My Heart Never Knows
a/n: thank you all so much for the headcannon requests for this series and just in general. i’m so grateful!! 🥹🫶 i hope you all enjoy this chapter!!
warnings: mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of war, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!
Chapter Eighteen- Think With Your Heart
—-
“Mama,” Tuk says, placing her hands onto your thigh and shaking you, “can I have another biscuit?”
“No!” Lo’ak suddenly shouts, grabbing one from the woven basket in the middle.
“Lo’ak,” you smile, flattered that all the children like your baking so much, “no need to be so protective.”
“Uh, yes. It’s the last one.”
“I want the last one!” Tuk shouts, grabbing your arm and leaning against you.
“Ha, ha. Guess who got it first.”
“But I only got one!” Kiri says, reaching across the empty food bowls on the floor to scratch and hiss at Lo’ak. “I saw you grab like- six, skawng!”
“Too bad!” Lo’ak shouts again, keeping the biscuit tight in his hands, high above his head.
“How about you guys split it?” you ask, smoothing down Tuk’s hair.
“Yes, please!” Neytiri exclaims. “No more fighting, I beg.” But she says it with a smile on her face, and she’s not truly mad.
“Um, Y/N, have you even tasted your own cooking? I need about ten of these per day, just to survive.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Lo’ak,” you smile, when Kiri suddenly lunges forward.
“Give it, Lo’ak!”
“No!” he yells back, extending his arm out towards you. “Y/N- protect it, please-”
“I think the oldest should have it,” Neteyam suddenly decides, digging his fingers into Lo’ak’s side, making him drop the biscuit.
“Hey!” Lo’ak shouts, and the three of them jump forward, even Tuk reaching for it, before it is suddenly snatched from the table and deposited into someone’s mouth.
You suppress a giggle in the silence Jake’s action leaves, see Neytiri do the same.
“Daddy!” Tuk suddenly screeches, burrowing into your side, mourning the loss of the biscuit.
“Come on, Dad!”
“Ugh!”
“You do not deserve to live, Dad.”
When you manage to stop your laughing, run your hands through Tuk’s braids to stop her exaggerated crying, Jake swallows with a wide smile on his face.
“It was delicious, sweetheart,” he says to you, wiping off his mouth.
Kiri makes a gagging sound, turning away and leaning over, hand to her stomach.
“Please, spare us,” Lo’ak pleads, placing a protective hand over your face so his dad cannot see you.
“My Jake,” Neytiri scolds, “how dare you starve your children!”
“It was one!” he exclaimed, shrugging. “Besides, it’s my duty as a father.” Neytiri laughs and leans against him, looking at you and smiling.
“Yeah. Which would be fine if it was anything else, but these biscuits are life-changing, Dad.” Lo’ak says, almost scolding.
“He’s right,” Neteyam shrugs, and Kiri murmurs an agreement from across the table.
“Like, what if Y/N breaks her hand tomorrow and then can’t bake?”
“Break my hand?!” you screech, and Tuk yelps, grabbing your hands in her own.
“You’ve jinxed it, Lo’ak,” Kiri sighs, shaking her head.
“I- I haven’t-” Lo’ak stutters, looking at you, worry evident on his face. “It was a joke!”
The table dissolves into laughter again, Kiri going so far as to even point a finger at Lo’ak, laughing so animatedly even he laughed.
(The next day, Lo’ak held you hand whever you went, determined to make sure you didn’t fall and break your hand.)
—-
Your sister would often say that her children use only their hearts, and not their heads.
They acted on emotion, almost too much or too little, didn’t use their brains.
But then she would simply sigh, and say they were just kids.
That is what kids do, she would say. That was what we did.
And you would always nod along.
But, now, as you break the surface of the calm water- no longer dark and dreary, no more rain, you think she is wrong.
Because you are and adult, only a few years younger than her, and here you are- acting like a child. Thinking with your heart and not your head.
You know this isn’t smart. You know you shouldn’t have come.
But you saw Lo’ak- there was no changing his mind, no stopping him. So, you thought, why not go with him? It would be quick- no one would even know you were gone.
Until Neteyam was following, Tsireya, Ao’nung and Roxto. And when you look over your shoulder now, you see Kiri and Tuk.
But you can’t find it in yourself to be mad.
“Payakan! Payakan, brother!” Lo’ak waves, and the tulkun jumps out of the water, but you hear something in his call.
Almost as if he’s in pain.
“Lo’ak!” Tsireya calls, but you ignore her. “Aunt Y/N!”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Payakan turns, and you stay close to Lo’ak, still wary of the stories you’ve heard about the outcast tulkun.
But you see it-
the marker. The one that Jake said meant mean marked for death.
“Shit!” Lo’ak shouts, diving off of his ilu and into Payakan’s fin. “Stay calm! I got this,”
He jumps over to the device, begining wrapping his hands around it, trying to pull it out.
“Lo’ak,” you gasp, crossing the water to place your feet against Payakan, wrap your hands next to Lo’ak’s.
Suddenly, Payakan let’s out a high-pitched sound, and you hear almost a rumbling in the water.
“Shit!” Lo’ak shouts, stopping his rescue.
“W-what?” you ask, following his eyes. “The demon ship?!”
“Bro, come on,” Neteyam shouts, jumping from his ilu to Payakan.
“Hurry! The ships coming,” Lo’ak shouts, and Neteyam bends down, seeing the ship in question on the horizon.
You’ve heard about the demon ship, the killer ship. You know that it brings death to any tulkun or Na’vi it targets. You know that it will take your family, take your heart, and crush it.
“The killer ship?” Ao’nung asks, jumping on, staring at the human machine for just a moment.
“Mama!” Tuk shouts, diving off of Kiri’s ilu and swimming towards you.
“Tuk!” you say back, wrapping her in your arms and sitting on Payakan’s fin.
“Hurry!” Tsireya shouts, and it is simply a frenzy of sounds, grunts of effort, rhythmic beeping, the waves crashing, and the sound of the ship slowly rumbling.
“It’s okay, Payakan,” Tuk whispers, reaching out w placing a hand next to his eye.
“Call dad!” Neteyam shouts, urging Lo’ak on top of Payakan.
“But-”
“Just do it!”
—-
All Jake has ever wanted was to keep his family safe.
When his family grew, he simply added another name to his mental list. It was simple, like that. He knew he loved them and he knew it would kill him if they died. So, he vowed that wouldn’t happen.
When Y/N walked away from him, hissing and barely keeping from attacking him, it had hurt. But Jake had let her walk off, let her cool down, he thought- with the unspoken condition that she would come back. That she wouldn’t disappear.
And now the rest of his kids are missing- and Jake let’s out a sigh of relief when he hears Lo’ak’s voice in his ear.
“Did you see where they went?”
“Ney,” he says, holding an arm out to her blindly. “Lo’ak?”
“Yes! We’re with a tulkun who is under attack, killer ship inbound. It’s about 2 clicks out.”
Neytiri looks up at him, shock in her eyes, but Jake won’t let himself think the worst yet. He swallows, presses his hand to his throat.
“Who’s with you?”
“It’s all of us! Ao’nung, Tisreya, and Y/N too. We’re at Three Brothers Rock,”
Neytiri bites back a hiss.
“Get to cover and do not engage,” Jake bites out. “Alright. You hear me? Do not engage. We’re coming.”
“Yes, sir!”
—-
“The kids are under attack! The kids are under attack,”
He can barely even believe his voice works. He feels like he should be on the ground, limbs limp, wallowing in his sadness.
But he can’t do that. He won’t do that.
He’s a father, a husband. That is his purpose- to protect.
They overrides everything else.
He sees the fear on Tonowari’s face, on Ronal’s, but he has to ignore it. He can’t let his emotion surface, can’t let himself feel. He has to be in the moment, plan the battle, do the attack.
“They’re defending a tulkun, it’s your kids too, it’s Y/N, it’s all of them.”
“The demon ship?” Tonowari asks, and Ronal hisses and storms into their mauri.
“Yes!” Jake responds, already running. “We gotta go!”
He’s a father. He’s a husband. He will protect.
—-
“It’s getting closer,” Tsireya warns, just as Neteyam throws the rope to Ao’nung.
“Tie it quick!” someone shouts, and you have to bite back at the hole in the your chest, threatening to take you over.
“It’s alright,” Kiri soothes, rubbing her hand over Payakan’s eye. The three of you are sat on his fin, trying to keep him calm and steady so the others can do their work.
You feel slightly useless, but every time you hold your hands up, they shake.
“Pull, now!” Neteyam shouts.
“Everybody, together!”
“Pull! Pull!”
You cannot tear your eyes away from the ship. Coming faster and faster, bringing death with it.
Suddenly, they all fall into the water, the sound of the device fading as it is pulled under the water.
“It’s out!” Tuk shouts, “Kiri, Mama, it’s out!”
“Go!” you shout, pushing the two of them towards Kiri’s ilu.
“Y/N-” Kiri starts, but you shake your head.
“Listen to me! Go, go!”
“Go that way!” Neteyam points, reeling the marker in, ready to dive on his ilu.
“Neteyam, no,” you plead, swimming towards him.
“Go, Y/N, go!” he shouts, before turning and diving into the water.
You hiss- but his ilu is fast. Even in the small head start he would have, it’s useless to try and catch up with him.
“Lo’ak, come,” Tsireya urges, mounting her own ilu.
“Payakan! Dive, dive, brother!”
Payakan dives just as you get on your own ilu, following the rest of them deeper into the water.
Kiri seems to take the leave- being the first to leave.
Payakan’s powerful kicks cause invisible currents in the water, but you all are diving too deep too fast to be effected.
Suddenly, something is exploding in the water, all around you, and it is like the water is seizing around you.
Your ilu shakes and stutters, but all of you manage to hide in a large patch of huge green plants.
Silence, in the water, for just a moment and you think you might get away.
Then, you see them coming, small black dots, but you know it is them. It is the humans, bringing death to you.
—-
taglist:
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missbunnybunny · 1 year
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- I was never enough, huh?- Widow
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This is how Widow came to be in 141 + how she got her name. Cws : toxic relationships, toxic household, trauma, broken and fixed relationships, depression, yelling, suicidal thoughts, manipulation, attempted suicide, many more that I’ll add later, if I don’t forget. If you're reading this and it’s really short, just know I accidentally posted this without finishing. 😅😅
“ Hey, how are ya feeling, kid?” Price asked. You didn’t say a word just blankly stared up at him. It had been a couple of weeks since the incident. At first, you were just telling everyone that you were fine.
But slowly, your mask was starting to slip off and crack. You no longer had your smile, your happy go lucky attitude, everything that made widow….well Widow.
Ghost had been trying to get you to talk or even crack a smile. Soap and Gaz had gotten you some of your favorite food and took you to your favorite places. The flower field you found in the woods, the river, and so on, but none of them worked.
Price had taken you on some walks, and König had tried to make you feel better. He even got you some stuff animals. But nothing worked. You just became a shell of your former self.
You felt like you were back home. One night, while ghost was walking to his room, he heard crying. He followed the sound and came to your room. He softly knocked at the door and waited. After some time, he heard some shuffling. Soon, the door opened. He stared down at a red-faced, teary-red eyes, shaking widow.
“ You wanna talk about it , lil lady” ghost asked. He was sincere, but it came out sounding sarcastic. You laughed a little to the shock of ghost. “ y-you haven’t called me that I-in a while.” In between hiccups and a hoarse voice. You invited him in, and he walked in and followed behind you. “ what’s troubling you?” He asked softly. You looked up at him.
You took a deep breath and exhaled, “ haven't really told you everything, have I?” You said. ghost shook his head, “ Well I’ll take it from the start, so take a seat. we gonna be here for a while.” You told ghost, he moved a little and got comfortable. “ am here. So, nothing you say will make me run.” He said with a chuckle.
-
“It all started when I was 5 or so. My parents had been arguing and fighting. I can’t remember why they even stared. My older brother took me and my little brother to his room.” Ghost nodded, telling me silently to carry on.
“ he was 8 at the time, I guess we were too young to understand. But Michael, being the oldest, took most of the hits for us. Mom was a frail lady. She would tell us to play hide and seek when dad got to drunk.”
“She would come into our rooms and would say hide and seek time. Find your best spot, and don’t come out until I find you. Alex and I would always hide together in the toy box in the closet, while Michael would hide under a pile of toy in the corner.” I laughed humorlessly. “ Being the only girl didn’t help either.
My father would come from work and yell at me. Why I wasn’t as smart as my brother, why I wasn’t as strong as him, why I was even born a girl. Mom would always come running, telling off my father and hugging my tightly to her chest.”
Ghost patted my back, giving me comfort the best he could. “ By the time Michael was 18, I was 15, and Alex was 13. Mom’s health took a turn for the worst. We had learned why we played hide and seek and why father had always hated me. He hated me for looking so much like mom. He hated me for being me, a kid.”
“ Michael moved out and got a job. He promised he would come back for use. But I guess a taste of freedom from our father, our home, was all he needed. He stopped calling, visiting, and soon we stopped seeing him. I was the oldest now, I was just a child. I became a mother to my little brother, a maid, a slave to my fathers cruel words. I lost my childhood.”
“ mom, got better after some treatment. She could walk on her own, and she told my father that enough was enough. She was going to divorce him. It was a hope for the future. But that was all cut short when, in the end, he became the death of her, all the beating, all the manipulation, finally came to get her. She died of stress. Her coworkers said she was calling out our names.” I started to cry. Mother was the light we looked to, our saving light at the end of the tunnel, but she was gone.
Ghost healed my hand, telling it was okay, “ You can take a break, you know?” He said. I shook my head “ I’ll never finish if I stop now.” Wiping the tears from my face. I took a breath and continued.
“ When I was turning 17, I had had enough. I wrote a letter to my father telling him how much I hated him, I wrote a letter to my brother, telling him how much I loved him. And that I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. Just when I had finished writing my letters, I took a bottle of pills and drowned them.”
“ I was slipping in and out, I felt light like I was floating. I had come to terms with my own demise, I thought, since my father didn’t love me, and my brother abandoned us, no one would care if I died. But I was wrong. Alex came into my room maybe 10 minutes after I had taken the pills. He told me he wanted to surprise me with the cake he managed to bring home, he thought I was sleeping until he saw the letter.”
“ he read the letter, and soon he started running to my side, shaking me. He saw the empty bottle and stared to panic even more. He managed to pump my stomach. He sat by my side the whole time, waiting until I woke up, and when I finally opened my eyes. He cried. He cried and beg me never to do it again he couldn’t live without me. I was his only family left, and he couldn’t lose me.”
“ I had felt like I didn’t matter like I was nothing, I had to grow up and be an adult instead of a kid. I guess I was naïve to believe that my brother wouldn’t notice. He gave me the cake while crying and singing happy birthday. And we came to the session to burn the letters, I was going to live, if not for myself, then for him.”
“ I got a part-time job, I managed to save enough money to buy myself a phone, and it was a few months or so later, when I received a message from an unknown number. It was Michael. At first, I didn’t want to respond.
I didn’t even want to speak to him. But Alex told me to hear him out, and so I reluctantly I did. He told me how father changed the houses phone number, how every time he tried to visit, father would threaten him. He couldn’t risk getting us hurt, so he decided to go away.”
“ it was the first time in years, I had heard the truth from my brother. He didn’t abandon us. Our father drove him away. He loved us. He actually tried to fight for custody, but father threatened that if he even took it to court, he was going to kill him.”
“ When Alex turned 16, I was 18, we packed our stuff, and in the middle of the night, we ran away. Michael was waiting for us outside the house. We ran and never looked back. You were finally free. Michael had decided to join the army. We keep in touch, but not as frequently. Last time, I heard he was stationed in Germany. Alex is in the Navy. He’s stationed in Korea, and I’m here.”
“ Do you remember when you met me?” I asked ghost. He nodded “ yea, you were close to dying.” He said.
“ yeah” I responded. “ hours before you found me, my ex fiancé had beaten me, took all my savings, and kicked me out. He had been cheating on me, so he decided that he had had enough of playing with me, with my feelings.
I actually thought you were death itself coming to collect my broken soul. You helped me up and took me back to my old apartment. ” You laugh as you remember this part. It was what made you start trusting the masked man.
“ You kicked down the door. Pulled my ex fiancé by his shirt and punch him in the face. You helped me pack up my stuff before we were leaving. You gave me the courage to speak up. Although in the end, I had so much pent-up anger that I gave him a blackeye. You were so taken aback that you told me-”
“Wow, there lil lady” ghost finished for you. You laughed, a laugh that was not forced but heartfelt. “ You took me back to the base, like I was a lost cat. told Captain Price that it was worth it to take me in, and you were the one who gave me my code name. 141 give me a new identity, a home, and a place to belong to.”
“ Well, we’re family kid. So don’t push your family away. Everyone has been very worried about you. And I see a certain lover boy has given you many gifts.” Ghost chuckled while looking at the pile of stuffed animals. Even in dimly lit room, he could notice how your face grew in color.
“ he’s just nice that way.” You hit ghost on the side. “ Yeah, right, that man asked me for your favorite colors and animals, none stop, and even asked me for recommendations.” Ghost spoke, pointing his finger at your face.
“ Alright, it's getting late, get some rest. You got some explaining to do.” Ghost said while walking out of your room. You closed your eyes and thought to yourself “ am not alone, I have my family right here”
_
The next morning, you came clean to the rest of the team. “ In short, I was just scared I would become a liability, that you would no longer need me and throw me away.”
you told them while keeping your head down. They were silent. The silence was becoming too much for you, so you looked up. The second you looked up, they hugged you. they told you that you could never become a viability! That you were what was keeping this team together.
you look back at ghost. He nodded towards you, and you cried. It finally hit you even after all your shortcomings. Even after you were broken, they still accepted you for who you were. this team was willing to sacrifice their lives to make you understand you were a part of them.
Soap joked “ No wonder ur still awful at cooking.” You laugh “ Well, I didn’t have anyone to teach me growing up.” I turned to ghost and gave him a big hug “ Thank you, if you hadn’t talked to me into telling them. I don’t know how it would have ended.”
Ghost hugged you back and told you “ see, i told you. You are enough”
“ widow! Come on i’ll teach ya how to cook!” Soap yelled. You gave Ghost one last hug and ran to soap and the rest of the squad, with ghost following after you. “coming!” You yelled at them, with a bright smile in your face.
- I was and still am enough - Widow
-Thank you to @seulgi-burgundy for the ideas and I hope that everyone liked this story. Sorry for any spelling errors, and I’ll start giving widow and König some love. Until next time! @seulgi-burgundy hope this lived up to your expectations!
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the-lastcall · 10 months
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OC Superlatives Tag Game
Tagged by @strangefable and @kyber-infinitygems <3 Thanks, y'all!
Passing the tag (no pressure) to: @darkfire1177 @the-laridian @gayafsatan @galaxycunt @responderschief @goatyoat @galaxymermaid214 @eld0ts @funkypoacher @chaosintheavenue @spaceratprodigy @incognito-insomniac @antoncrane @bearcina @moonlit-jellies @ladyoriza @stonedsmiles @thenugking @chilikecheese @datura-tea @kabals-nose-scrunch @driftwoodskeleton @renaissaniccatherine and anyone else who wants to play!
The Favorite
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Is anyone surprised by this?? 1960s Will has always been on my mind in some form or another since late October 2021. If my creative life were a boy-and-his-dog story, Will would be a scrappy Jack Russel terrier I found behind a dumpster and we would be inseparable, and she would survive to the the of book/movie. 👍👍
The Oldest
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Leo (Sidestep -> Anathema) is far from my oldest OC, but they're the oldest one I've posted about on this account. They've been around since early 2018, and it's been really fun to pick them back up with the public release of Retribution!
The Newest
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Loyal is the child of a much older OC (Humble Thomas, ca. 2013), who got an overhaul, a new setting, and then got killed by an atomic bomb. Whoops! But Loyal's doing just fine, and has been kicking around picking up depth and detail for a few months now.
Jo, the lone wanderer from my FO3 playthrough, is technically the newest, but has barely begun development, and so doesn't count yet!
The Meanest
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Oh, Caleb. If you have something he wants, he's sweet as sugar bombs. But turn your back, and he'll put a knife in it without hesitation. Survival is just business, baby!
Thom and Antonia are contenders, too.
The Softest
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I had to think about this one! Will is tough and tenacious, but she has the easiest time being gentle and kind out of all of this lot. Will naturally looks for - and often finds - the best in people. She's intuitive, compassionate, hard-working, and very good at feeling joy when she gets the chance.
Arguably Will/ow Dane is softer when she's soft, but she only gets that way with a very limited number of people. Will Hawthorne, meanwhile, is able to extend friendly curiosity to most people, builds friendships fairly easily, and is openly affectionate.
The Most Standoffish/Aloof
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Leo is such a little edge lord that they're in danger of falling right off the cliff. 👍 This has not stopped Ortega. 👍 Go to therapy, Leo! 🙏 Or spend more time in the puppet, I guess?
The Smartest
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I'm giving it to Loyal because Loyal has the best executive function and the greatest skill in long-term strategic planning.
BUT - they're all smart. Some have received more formal education, some are more naturally gifted in one area or another, and some have incredibly sharp minds but no access to the resources to use them. But they're all "the smartest" in different ways and circumstances.
Thom Darner (from an off-line project) is the one with the highest level of formal education and the most external markers of intellectual success. The story treats his intellectual ability as important and central to his identity moreso than some of the others. Caleb has almost no substantive education, but is incredibly skilled at social navigation and PR. Will Dane would have been skipping grades if not for a rough home life and what was probably undiagnosed ADHD. Leo came installed with a whole lot of processing power and substantial knowledge. Antonia is gifted in combat and very quick to understand anything that genuinely catches her interest. Will Hawthorne is brilliant when it comes to systems thinking and dealing with others.
The Dumbest
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This one probably isn't fair, because Will Dane spends a lot of time as a teenager learning to be a person the hard way. Leo thinks being a supervillain is going to solve any of their problems. Cash is...well, Cash. Teddy and Scratch are knuckleheads in the highest degree.
And, like I said, Caleb is INCREDIBLY smart when it comes to politicking, PR, and ensuring his own survival. But Caleb has the least formal education, is (wrongly) written off as an empty head most often, and is ABSOLUTELY the first one that come to mind.
The One I'd be Friends With
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Vinnie is so chill! She just wants to hike around the Mojave with a package to deliver and a head full of radio static, plant names, and recycled elevator music. They're loaded with interesting knowledge and happy to wander in and out of your life without thinking much about it.
And you know what? I can respect that.
There are a fair number I'd enjoy hanging out or being friends with, but today I'm vibing with Vinnie. I could use a companionably quiet ramble. Saturday chilling.
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izzy-b-hands · 2 years
Text
Stede’s kids, aka two little shits lol, come looking for him. On their own. In a dinghy.
They truly are his children.
I guessed on their ages, so put them about idk, like 8 or 9, maybe 10 at the oldest for Alma and maybe five or six for Louis, somewhere about there. I may be wrong or off but I’m winging it for now until I find anything definitive re: how old they are in show canon lol.
A note, I did combine some historical stuff for Stede here. Mainly his first son, named Allamby, who had died by 1715 per Wikipedia.
TW for descriptions of child death re: Allamby (made up, because I couldn’t find much to give an exact cause of death, so I just rolled with it.)
I stared at this all day and I think I caught any accidentally a words or major fuck ups, but if I missed something pls let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP dsklfjaskl. Also, if any additional trigger tags are wanted that I missed, let me know and I’ll add them them right away!
---
“Another letter from the kids,” Ed said as he handed the envelope to Stede. “I’ll bet they still want to come out with us.”
“And I’ve told them their mother will not allow that at this time, understandably,” Stede chuckled. “But we’ll remind them.”
He opened the letter and started to read. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
Stede nodded and handed the letter back, moving to sit on a nearby barrel. He’d expected some whining that he hadn’t come back for a bit, or to allow them to sail with him for at least a week or two (Mary wasn’t entirely against it; she simply wanted them to be older before they did so, and that no raid would take place while they were aboard. Sensible requirements that Stede agreed with wholeheartedly.)
He hadn’t expected this.
“They’re looking for us?” Ed said, shocked. “They aren’t old enough for that. Are they?”
“How old were you when you left to be a pirate?”
“Sixteen, or about there,” Ed replied. “How old are yours again?”
“Not that,” Stede laughed nervously. “Oh god.”
“No, don’t panic,” Ed said. “After all, they’re your kids. Smart, good head on their shoulders.”
“And a proclivity to make rash, potentially dangerous and/or poor decisions?”
Ed paused. “Well. Yeah, that too.”
“Should we head their way and see if we can’t find them?” Stede asked. In his head, all he could see were two panicked children aboard a dinghy, in rough seas, potentially about to drown or starve if they somehow survived it-
“You’re picking at the thread on your jacket,” Ed interrupted the stream of potential catastrophes. “Take a breath.”
“I will, when we find them.”
--
“What else did the letter say?” Olu asked.
“They’ve bought their own provisions, weapons-” Ed read, then paused to laugh. “That’s wonderful! Not even my kids and I’m proud of them. Wonder what they picked up for that, because-”
“Ed,” Stede interrupted. “They likely stole money from their mother, oh god I hadn’t considered that yet. Forget being hung for piracy, Mary’s going to kill me first.”
“No one is getting hung for being a pirate, and I’m sure Mary will...” Ed hesitated. “You know, if we all go ashore, you’ll have a head start.”
“I think I need to lie down.”
“Children are much more resilient than you think,” Izzy offered. “They’re probably perfectly fine.”
“Or dead,” Stede chuckled. “I’ll make myself walk the plank if that’s the case!”
“I don’t think anyone actually does that,” Pete frowned.
“What, make someone walk the plank?” Lucius asked. “Or let their kids die at sea?”
Stede whimpered, and Ed wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Let’s not say dead unless we should find them that way,” Ed said. “And no, walking the plank really isn’t a thing. Sorry, love.”
“Right,” Stede nodded. “Then you can tie the anchor to me and drop me overboard! Maybe let Mary do it, that would only be right. And any loot could go towards funerals-”
He let himself drop out of Ed’s grip to sit on the deck, staring into space. He didn’t exactly want to take back all the years of playing pirate, but at the same time, maybe they wouldn’t have come looking for him if he hadn’t done so.
Ed peered down. “So, we’re going to take the lead on this, and I’m going to help Stede to bed. Sound good, Stede?”
He managed a nod, and didn’t fight when Ed and Izzy helped him up and more or less dragged him to their quarters.
“Try to rest, and think of something else,” Ed said as they dropped him into bed. “Read a book, distract yourself.”
He went to the shelves, and pulled out a book on the designing of children’s funerals, and dealing with grief.
Ed frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Come on,” Izzy whispered. “Sooner we find them, sooner he’ll either be alright, or we’ll lock him in here so he doesn’t jump overboard.”
--
“Do we know what they look like?” Roach asked.
“No,” Ed replied.
“Names?”
“Alma and Louis,” Ed said.
“Anything else?”
Ed looked back to the letter. “Alma has very nice handwriting?”
The crew groaned collectively.
“None of that,” Izzy scolded. “That isn’t helping.”
“More information would be helpful too,” Frenchie said. “What do we look for otherwise?”
“It’s two kids in a boat, probably just out there floating!” Jim shouted. “The fuck else do you think we need to look for?”
“Whoa, okay,” Olu took Jim’s hand. “Good point though, there can’t be that many younger kids out for a jaunt on the sea without any parents or someone to keep an eye on them.”
Frenchie raised his hand.
“Yup,” Ed nodded. “Go on.”
“Does their mum know they’re gone?”
Silence.
Izzy opened his mouth, then shut it and looked to Ed for direction.
“Possibly,” Ed finally said. “They didn’t say in the letter.”
“So in other words, their mum and her boyfriend might also be out there?”
Ed pondered it in a silent panic. “Yeah. Yeah, they might be.”
“Actually then, we’re looking for four people,” Frenchie said. “Good to know. Really hope we don’t accidentally find them by running over their dinghies.”
“I know we’re all probably a little scared for all of them,” Olu said. “But we need to keep our shit together. Stede’s lost his enough for all of us, frankly.”
“They are his kids,” Ed said sharply. “Though I wonder about the oldest one. Why didn’t he go with?”
“Isn’t the daughter the oldest?” Olu asked.
“Thought so, but before he came back I went snooping through his things,” Ed said. “And there’s a mention of a son, Allamby. He’s the first kid listed on anything that mentioned his family.”
“Could be he’s old enough that he didn’t want to go,” Roach offered.
“Then why not stop the other two?” Frenchie asked. “They’d tell an older sibling at least before they left. I would, were it me. Brother won’t necessarily yell at you about it, even if he doesn’t like it, and he could have been the one to give them money too.”
“We’re wasting time,” Wee John said. “Let’s get to actually looking for them, and then we can ask them about all of this.”
“Capital idea,” Ed declared. “All hands then, let’s get the show on the road.”
“At least we know they’ll be dressed fancy, if they’re that much like Stede,” Frenchie murmured to Wee John. “Could spot a bright silk from a mile away.”
--
The first three days were fruitless. Stede ate when food was brought to him, drank when water was presented. At night, he walked the deck while the others slept, no matter how much Ed protested. He argued that he slept enough during the days to distract himself from the worst possibilities, the least he could was take the night watch to see if they might be spotted then.
On day four, Ed joined him.
“Can I ask you something?”
Stede nodded, still looking out into the dark at the far end of the deck. The sea was calm, and the moon bright. Perfect conditions to find one’s missing children.
“Why didn’t their older brother go with?”
Stede turned. “Alma is our oldest.”
“Who is Allamby then? I may have peeked at some of your stuff before you came back, and-”
Stede shook his head. “I sort of wish you hadn’t.”
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have,” Ed said, and took Stede’s hand, reassured when he grasped back tightly. “I won’t again, not without your permission.”
“No, it isn’t the biggest deal in the world,” Stede sighed. “Allamby was our actual first. But he passed a few years ago.”
“When?”
Stede sighed again. “1715.”
“That’s only two years ago,” Ed scoffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He’s gone and buried,” Stede replied. “What would there be to tell?”
“I’d imagine a lot,” Ed said softly. “How old was he?”
“Five,” Stede said, with another squeeze of Ed’s hand. “Very sweet. Liked picking flowers with me, to bring home to Mary. Wanted to study flowers, actually. Told me how he’d like to discover new ones, and he could name them after all of us.”
“Ambitious,” Ed laughed. “All that at five?”
“He had a plan for almost all of it,” Stede chuckled. “Didn’t really have any idea of how he’d make money to live of course, but truthfully I would have happily paid his way until he was on his feet. And even then, if ever he needed anything, all he would have had to do was ask.”
“What about playing pirate?”
Stede grinned, and finally turned to face Ed. “He loved it. Insisted we go down to the beach to play, the house wasn’t where a pirate would live! We’d walk down and he’d talk about everything involved with it: what weapons he’d use, what he’d most like to have as loot, even how he’d decorate his ship.”
“Flowers?”
“Lots of them. Painted on the walls, on the hull. Didn’t mind that it would mean repainting often. It was a worthy effort to him.”
He leaned into Ed, and Ed slipped his hand from Stede’s to wrap it around his waist instead.
“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”
Stede again looked to the sea. It was empty as it had been before.
“We don’t really know. He went to bed as usual, after two extra bedtime stories no less, and the next morning,” Stede’s voice caught in his throat. “He didn’t wake up. We thought he was having a lie in, since he did on occasion. Gave him an extra half hour to sleep or play in his room, whatever he was up to. Then Mary asked that I go up and bring him down for a late breakfast.”
Ed reached with his free hand to wipe a tear off Stede’s cheek as it fell. “Stede, if you want to stop-”
“No, he deserves to be known about,” Stede choked. “After we chose to not tell Alma or Louis about him, at least for now. That leaves only me and Mary and our parents, but they never did like him much. Too much like me, I suppose.”
He took a deep shaking breath. “I went up to get him. And it seemed awfully quiet, but he could sleep deeply. He’d played hard the day before too, all day at the beach, being the best pirate he could be!”
Stede smiled. “He would have loved it out here. I’m sure of it. Not that Mary would have wanted him out here either, but maybe when he was older, she would have...well. I suppose that doesn’t matter now.”
Ed nodded and tried to hold him tighter.
“I just thought he was sleeping deeply again,” Stede said. “He looked fine. Out cold, but fine. No blue in his lips, no gray on his skin. Not at that point, at least. But I couldn’t rouse him.”
Ed didn’t say a word, and waited for Stede.
“It was ridiculous, sitting on his bed, trying to shake him awake. Even went and got a glass of water and poured it over him, the poor thing!” Stede was openly crying now. His eyes hadn’t left the glassy water that surrounded them. “How he would have shouted any other morning if I’d done that! And it would have been deserved!”
Stede wiped away his tears, but they fell as fast as he could remove them. “Felt his forehead, expected a fever. He was cold.”
There was no wind, and the night was cool but not enough to chill. Stede shivered nonetheless.
“I picked him up and ran downstairs and called for Mary and to send for the doctor, or whoever could come by quickest that had any knowledge that might help,” Stede continued. “She knew before I did. Accepted it before I did, more like. She’d warned me before we tried for children, that there was always risk. They could die in childbirth and take her with them. Could have a horrid accident. Could be sick enough to die. Could simply die while in their cot, as a baby.”
He took a gasping breath. “But not at that age. Far too old to be a cot death. But it didn’t matter. Mary waited for the doctor at the door, and I stayed with him. Held him until the doctor made me let go.”
“And Mary?”
“Devastated as I was, but she didn’t fall apart like me until the burial. I think it really hit then. We spent days in the house, not eating, not sleeping. We talked once about what if we went to his grave and checked. Maybe he was really alright, and what if we’d buried him alive?! He’d be scared and want us and he’d think we had abandoned him.”
Ed gently prompted him to walk, to try and get him to their quarters or anywhere that he couldn’t watch the waves. At least for a few moments.
But Stede didn’t move an inch. “We nearly did it, too. Mary borrowed some of my old things, so she could move more easily. We were at the door, shovels in hand, and then we realized what we were doing.”
He sobbed. “And it would be pointless. He’d be as pale and lifeless as he’d been at his wake, in his coffin.”
It was by some grace that Izzy came out of his room, headed for the galley. At seeing them, he changed direction and strode over.
“Did we find them?” he asked Ed in a whisper.
“No,” Ed whispered back. “Could you help me get him to our quarters? I can take over the rest of the night watch.”
“You stay with him,” Izzy said. “I can do it. It’ll be nearly light before we know it anyway.”
With a bit more prompting and gentle pulling, they got Stede to walk away from the rail of the deck.
--
“Got something!” Frenchie called from the crow’s nest. “Small vessel, not close enough to see all who’s in it though!”
“Dinghy is ready,” Izzy said as he jogged past Ed towards it. “Roach?”
“On my way,” Roach hustled up behind him, kit of medicines and bandages and everything else in one hand. In the other was a small bag. “Got sandwiches and some jars of water in here. No offense to them, but I can’t imagine kids can estimate how much they’d need...”
“We fuck that up often enough ourselves,” Ed said. “And we’re old enough to know better.”
“And yet,” Izzy sighed, but it had no teeth behind it.
Ed tried to get a better look at the dinghy as they slowly made their approach. “I still can’t tell...looks empty.”
As they made their way beside it, he saw he was right. Still a jug of water and a basket of oranges, set by two daggers. But otherwise, empty.
“Fuck,” Izzy said softly. “Maybe they abandoned it and went ashore somewhere?”
“Why would they leave their supplies?” Roach asked.
Before any one of them could speculate, there was a ripple in the water.
Ed felt a hand grasp his at the edge of the dinghy.
Then, a face. “Oh shit! Louis, come back up!”
They watched as Alma dove back underwater and brought Louis up, a fish in his hands. “I caught one! Can we really stop somewhere to cook it and eat it? Can we go now?”
“No!” Alma looked over fearfully to them as she pushed Louis into their dinghy. “We don’t have anything you’d want! We’re looking for our dad, and he’s a pirate! Most fearsome to sail the sea, so if you’re planning to rob or kill us...”
She paused, clearly out of breath from swimming and panic. “Well, I would reconsider it!”
Izzy smiled, then broke into laughter. “Yeah, these are his. Fucking fuck, Bonnet.”
“You know him!” Alma pulled herself into their vessel, and moved her wet hair out of her eyes. “Where is he?”
“We sail with him,” Ed replied. “And he’s been a mess looking for you two, after he got your letter.”
“Told you he’d meet us halfway,” Louis said. “I told you!”
“Oh shut up,” Alma sighed. “Sorry about him, but he’s always like this, I should warn you-”
“I’m not like anything! I’m being polite and I was even going to offer to share my fish with them!”
“How about we tow you back with us, and then we’ll see about the fish,” Roach smiled. “I’m our chef and surgeon, so maybe you could help me cook it.”
Louis grinned, and set the dead fish on the bottom of the boat to hand over the rope tied to the dinghy.
“Curious,” Ed said as they started the trip back. “Did you two steal this?”
“Of course we did,” Alma scoffed. “We’re pirates.”
Izzy was still having giggle fits, even as he rowed. “Yes, yes you are.”
--
“Dad, ow. Dad! Help!” Louis cried out as Stede picked him up in a bear hug.
“Okay, let’s not suffocate him, metaphorically or literally,” Lucius said as he rushed over. “Hi! Your dad really missed you.”
“I can tell,” Louis said, voice muffled with his face jammed into Stede’s silk waistcoat.
“I was so worried about you,” Stede said as he finally set poor Louis down. “Did you tell your mother that you left?”
“I left her a note,” Alma said, then backed up as Stede moved for her. “Dad, I’m too big to pick up, Dad!”
He did all the same. “And look at you! Sailing in that dress! How on earth did you manage that?”
“You get used to it,” Alma said. “You’re squishing my lungs, I think.”
“Sorry,” Stede set her back on her feet. “I just. I thought you two were dead, and I had no idea how I’d tell your mother or what I’d do; it isn’t as if I’m likely to have any more children and...”
“Dad, you don’t have to cry,” Alma said, but she wrapped her arms around him and nestled her head into his neck.
“I’m hungry,” Louis said. “Mr. Roach, can we go cook my fish?”
“Yeah buddy, we can,” Roach replied. “Ed, if Stede’s looking for him-”
“I’ll let him know,” Ed interrupted gently, brushing away a tear of his own. “Let us know when dinner’s ready, hm?”
“Of course.”
The rest of the crew kept on with their various chores, but all of them stayed on the main deck, watching Stede lead Alma around to show her the ship. In return, she told him how they’d left, stolen their boat, how she’d been saving her allowance to buy everything from their food to their daggers.
No one interrupted directly, but there were smiles and soft giggles all around.
Ed was the only one following after them, listening in and silently cheering at Alma’s resourcefulness. Of all the Bonnets, she seemed the one who might not need any teaching about piracy. Maybe too young, but well prepared for it all the same.
“I am...” Stede sighed happily. “Your mother wouldn’t like to hear this, but I am so proud of you both. What you did was very dangerous-”
“You’ve said that like a hundred times already,” Alma interrupted.
“I know, I know, but I’m your dad. I have to say things like that, so you’re more careful in the future.”
Alma rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Fine, then we’ll board and steal a bigger ship next time.”
“Next time!”
“That or you come back and let us come with now and then,” she said with a little happy hop.
“While that would be a lovely achievement, I think it better I arrange with your mum something that would let you two come out and sail a bit,” Stede said. “If my co-captain is agreeable to it.”
He peered back to Ed with a hopeful smile.
“Absolutely! Say, how good are you two with those daggers?”
Alma blushed. “We aren’t. We didn’t get to practice before we left, and we’ve only used fake swords before.”
“Then I say we get you some lessons on knives with Jim before we take you two home,” Ed said.
“Which is Jim?”
He pointed out Jim, currently winning a knife-throwing contest against Frenchie and Wee John, with the Swede keeping score.
“Whoa,” Alma breathed out as Jim made their best throw yet. “Can I learn how to do that?”
“Jim can teach you that, and I’ll teach you how to take out an eyeball with a dagger, how about that?”
Her eyes shone. “Really?”
He looked to Stede, who chuckled. “I suppose. Better earlier than later, if you’re really going to be a pirate.”
She cheered and rushed away to Jim. They watched her tug on Jim’s coat, mouth moving a mile a minute as she pointed to Jim’s knife.
Jim looked back to them, seemingly waiting for permission.
Stede gave them a nod, and immediately Jim knelt down and handed Alma their knife, showing her how to hold it before tossing it.
“Think Mary’s still going to kill you?” Ed asked.
“Maybe not. Once we bring them back and work something out properly, and I’m sure they’ll need to promise not to run off on their own again. She might show mercy on me then.”
Stede leaned into him, arm at his waist, and they watched the rest of the knife throwing lesson in a contented silence.
--
“Roach said I did the best job he’s ever seen,” Louis told Stede proudly as they sat down to dinner. His fish was too small to share with everyone, but a portion were on his and Alma’s plates. “I bet I could learn how to be a ship’s chef from him.”
“He’s our surgeon too,” Stede said. “That means learning about bodies and blood and guts!”
Louis grinned. “Cool.”
“They get that from Mary,” Stede told Ed, sitting a spot away from him beside Alma. “She’s got an iron stomach.”
“You’re getting better with that,” Ed said. “Sometimes you just need to be around it more to get used to it.”
“Jim taught me how to throw a knife,” Alma leaned past Stede to Louis. “And Ed’s gonna teach me how to take out an eyeball!”
“Ew,” Louis giggled. “Can I learn too?”
Ed smiled warmly. “Stede, I love them. They’re awesome. I had never really thought about kids-”
“Is Ed like our stepdad like Doug?” Louis interrupted.
Stede looked to Ed with a chuckle. “Well, Doug said you two sort of decided if he was or not. What do you think about Ed?”
“Makes sense he would be,” Alma replied. “Cause Doug teaches us how to paint, and now Ed’s gonna be teaching us stuff too. Plus he’s dating you.”
They both blinked. They’d not so much as kissed in front of them yet.
“How do you know that?” Stede asked.
“I have eyes,” Alma said. “And you two act the way Mum and Doug do. You make eyes at each other.”
“I suppose we do,” Stede blushed.
“You’re literally doing it right now,” Alma said, and looked across the table to Jim. “Do they do this all the time?”
“Yes,” came a chorus of voices.
“We aren’t that bad,” Ed said.
“I bet they kiss like all the time,” Louis said.
“They do,” Izzy stage-whispered from his spot by Jim. “And hold hands, and-”
Alma and Louis broke into giggles, cutting him off.
“Alright, we have a decent feast tonight!” Roach announced as he finished setting down the last dish, covered by a high metal dome. “Hard tack, a stew that I think finally everyone will like, and-”
He lifted the dome off the dish. “Thanks to Alma and Louis, we had more than enough oranges for a cake!”
Louis turned to Stede, mouth open to speak.
“One piece for tonight,” Stede said before he could get out a word.
“Okay, but-”
“Stew first, then cake. It’ll taste better that way.”
Louis nodded. “And my fish before the stew!”
“Of course,” Stede said.
Dishes were passed from hand to hand, until plates were full. Everyone dug in, but Stede took the opportunity to take it all in.
Maybe, now and again, he could have both. His family at sea, and some of his family on land, together.
If he saved some cake for Mary, she’d be potentially more likely to say yes, and he made a mental note to set enough aside for her and Doug.
And maybe one extra piece, for Alma and Louis to share before bed.
22 notes · View notes
megamanrecut · 2 years
Note
Very goofy recut AU, character swaps have a lot of comedic potential, especially if the timelines don't exactly line up (ex: if you swapped Rock and Quint, Quint doesn't explicitly have to be Rolls twin, and could be older or younger if needed)
My personal favorite for ridiculous swaps is Top and Proto... With a twist lol. Top is the oldest of Dr. Lights advanced androids, but Proto isn't an advanced android at all, because he's Elec man's twin! I think it'd make for a funny dynamic with Proto and Elec being both very insufferable when they're younger, and even when brought up in the syndicate, I'm not sure how cool Proto would actually be cool with a lot of the darker aspects of it.
They'd probably have more of a golden child and black sheep relationship with their family, which might be an early source of resentment because I don't think Elec would have much sympathy for Proto (he's too young to really pick up on the underlying dislike of the job and just see it as Proto not taking things seriously, which he doesn't a lot of the time lol) but they'd probably get along well enough
...At least until Bass, another character slotted in earlier to give Wily any chance of succeeding without Proto shows up to fight them. He's smart enough to bring back up. Proto is confident he can distract them/make sure they don't steal any valuable information or secrets while Elec gets back up, but by the time Elec man comes back with Pharaoh man, everyone, including Proto is gone.
......Elec man definitely doesn't feel a misplaced sense of guilt or responsibility over the situation. It's completely normal to become extremely devoted to taking down a mad man who stole a syndicate robot. Meanwhile, Proto is slowly starting to like this new arrangement, while Bass is losing faith in Wily
....I like imagining character role swaps haha
hahaha this ask is a fic in itself! My thoughts under cut. 
Dunno about swapping the families up, awkward for the show-canon (if brief!) Roll/Top ship and the Elec/Proto ship so *DISCLAIMER* if anyone likes this AU idea AND either of those ships then maybe instead they are just living/working together through circumstances and not related 😵 (Though Proto&Elec and Roll&Top as platonic family relationships has cute potential too!)
Poor Recut Top; he would be living his best life at Dr. Light’s lab, and he’d be a very sweet older brother or mentor to Rock and Roll
Wait wait wait…so Rock and Proto would *not* be brothers in this role swap AU? Whoa I think that’s the biggest shakeup! Their relationship is such a driving force for much of their character arcs, arguably Recut's thesis and antithesis and the show's most popular character dynamic. So…what if they *weren’t* related? Would make for a completely different story! I guess??
Fun fact: Proto and Elec are close to being birthday twins (Proto’s activation is Sept 28th 1993, Elec’s Oct 1st 1993)
I think if Proto was brought up as a Syndicate Robot Master he’d actually be sorta cool with it, or about as much as Elec is. It’s a dark job…but he’s suited to aspects of it.
Elec and Proto would naturally be good crime partners (and like no one else would work with either hahaha) but also would be extremely arrogant hotshots in slightly different ways: Elec Man is ruthless on scrappers and like hardcore gangsters meanwhile Proto itches to fight ALL the police/other extreme thrill-seeking even if it’s against criminal code. So to everyone else they are just the worst (*especially* when they’re together) but also unstoppable so their Syndicate associates put up with them with both exasperation and reluctant admiration, hoping Elec will balance out Proto’s recklessness and Proto will balance out Elec from going *too* dark.
They’d get along great in this AU, runs a bit similar to a ‘What if Elec captured Proto’ Syndicate!Proto AU but no reprogramming angst. Still lots of banter, but Elec Man’s true problem with Proto is Proto is ‘Light’s prototype’/his own stubborn indignation about being a serious criminal reprogrammed to work for a goofy mad scientist. If they were otherwise on the same side, those wouldn’t be obstacles in becoming close.
Therefore it would be potentially super devastating/angsty for Elec Man if Proto also lost his memories after being stolen D: but maybe also funny.
Proto would absolutely still like working for Wily; they have something like a hilariously bizarre odd couple friendship that no one including themselves get, and Proto could easily charm his way up Wily’s ranks.
…Still, definitely animosity between Proto and Bass, especially if Bass beat him in a fight lol. Like a bizarro Elec/Proto S1 dynamic where Proto actually likes working for Wily while Bass is like already super over it. (tangent: Actually always feel bad for Recut!Wily who sincerely thought Proto would accept Bass as like a replacement brother they would get along when they absolutely do not lol)
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yellowcry · 7 months
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Deeper through
chapter 3 past chapter
Isabela drummed her fingers on the table, her heart racing as she waited for her parents to return. The sun had set long ago, and Luisa had been gone for two whole days now. It was much longer than Mirabel's absence, and Isabela couldn't shake off the worry in her heart. There was still no sign of Luisa, and the darkness outside only added to her anxiety. For Abuelo's sake, what was with the members of this family and sudden disappearance? It was their Tío Bruno for ten years, then Mirabel, luckily for just one night. And now Luisa. There was an awful, heavy feeling in her chest. Isabela was afraid. She usually never worried about her sisters. Sure, Mirabel liked to get into trouble, but she was smart and dodgy. And Luisa was... Luisa. The idea of her being in danger looked like some sick dream. 
But now... without magic, Luisa was... a human. Realizing this was so strange. Luisa wasn't this strong rock on which everyone could lean anymore. It was awful.
Isabela's anger boiled inside her. She was frustrated with Luisa for getting lost, with Mirabel for vanishing after Casita's collapse, with Abuela for bringing them here, and with herself. Isabela took on the burden of being the perfect child so everyone else could enjoy their lives and be free. Just to learn that Luisa wasn't strong enough. Never enough.
And it made Isabela's guts twitch. Because she was the oldest. And she thought that maybe everything was great. She was the only one locked in the golden cage. Just so everyone else would be happy.
But Mirabel wasn't happy. Luisa wasn't happy. If you think about this for another minute, was anyone in this family happy? Maybe Antonio, but he just turned five, so it barely counted. 
"It's late." Camilo examined the window apathetically when the streets started to get darker.
Mirabel mumbled. "Luisa... will come." She kept staring out of the window like a princess waiting for a prince.
Isabela's hands clenched tightly into fists, her worry growing more intense with each passing moment.. How dare Luisa leave them! Right after Mirabel disappeared... What was she even thinking? "I hate her!" Isabela screamed, throwing her hand up. Luisa is just... so shameless!
"Isa, what the hell?" Mirabel grumbled, stepping closer to her. . Isabela could see how watery Mirabel's eyes were. "LUISA MIGHT BE IN DANGER!"
Isabela's body started to shake like a leaf. "What was she thinking?" She hissed through her teeth, clutching her fists in rage.
Dolores sighed, grabbing both of them by their shoulders. "Isa, Mira, you have to calm down." She sounded calm yet strict. Between of all of the grandkids, Dolores was the sane one, as much as the word 'sane' applied to this family. Luisa might be on the same level as Dolores, but she couldn't sit straight for three minutes, which lowered her score a bit. But this seemed to be a middle-child thing since both Tía Pepa and Camilo shared the same level of activity.
"H-hey, kids, how about we do something else?" Bruno smiled awkwardly; he was the only adult who wasn't allowed to be part of the search for Luisa. Isabela guessed that it was because of how he disappeared for ten years. 
"Easy to say; you weren't the one who lost his sibling." Isabela barked, crossing her arms. Bruno recoiled, staring at her with a really hurt face. Deep inside, she knew that her actions weren't right. But she couldn't help her anger. Isabela wasn't sure how she felt. She was mad at everyone, upset because her second sister was gone, tired, and sad. It was just too overwhelming.
Isabela wished she could hate Luisa; she really wanted to. She desired to stop sitting here almost at midnight, unable to go to sleep. She didn't even rest normally yesterday because the blowing wind outside sounded like someone's snoring breath.
Mirabel looked like she wanted to scream again, but before she could say anything, the door creaked open. All the kids winced and jumped off their seats to run to Pepa and Felix.
"Is there anything yet?!" The cold sisters screamed almost at the same time. Please say that Luisa was with them. Isabela couldn't stand another night with this awful expectation. But... As she could see, her hermanita wasn't with their tios. Isabela's face drooped in disappointment.
Mirabel sighed, looking down. She adjusted her cloudy glasses and reminded herself unsurely. "W-well... Mama and Papa could still come back with her."
Yes... Maybe their parents will. Because Isabela really needed to shout at one certain hermana that made her even more tense than Mirabel.  Pepa and Felix gave Mirabel a surprised look, as Dolores explained. "They would go deeper into the woods if they didn't find Luisa."  Isabela rolled her eyes in annoyance. "And why would you know what they are going to do?"
"They were talking about this in the morning while packing their backpacks," Dolores explained, and Isabela growled quietly in anger. How come she didn't hear it? Why was Dolores the one who knew what was going on in her family? Because Mirabel seemed to be as shocked as Isa. Of course! Isabela buried her willingness to hit her own forehead. Dolores wasn't the one who spent the last two, or three in Isabela's case, nights unable to stop worrying for her sister. Dolores didn't lose her brothers; Camilo and Antonio were here, completely safe and sound. Part of her wanted to yell at Dolores and blame her for how unfair it all was. Instead, Isabela shouted for another reason. "Are they serious?" Her voice was so loud that the lamp shook. "At first we lost Mirabel, then Luisa! Do they want to disappear too?" Her entire body was shaking in rage. What were her mom and dad thinking? How... How could they leave them too?
Felix put his hand on Isabela's shoulder supportively. "Gus and Juli want to make sure Luisa is safe."
Isabela put his palm away. "They left us!" Her breathing was getting heavy. Was it bad that Isabela wanted her mom to assure her that everything would be alright?! "And what if Luisa would return by herself?" Everyone winced; it seemed like they realized a mature problem in this plan. "Will they be searching for her forever?"
"Isa..." Tía Pepa began, trying to explain everything, but Isabela immediately cut her off.
"You know what? I don't care!" She snapped, rushing up the stairs at an insane speed, muttering. "I'll be in our room." 
Isabela angrily slammed the door shut. Maybe it wasn't right; it wasn't her house, but she couldn't care. This small room was nothing compared to Casita. Somehow, in this tiny space that was even smaller than the nursery back home, there were crammed six beds. Isabela wanted to shout in despair from this stuffy, small chamber where they were supposed to stay. She sat down, leaning against the door. Antonio snorted in his dream, hugging a plush jaguar. Another reminded her that Isabela was the one who lost her hermanas. She growled quietly, hugging her knees. Isabela wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, throwing things around to destroy this tiny bedroom. She wanted to hug both of her sisters just like Dolores hugged her brothers, knowing that Luisa was safe. Isa wanted to revert the time and change something, not letting Luisa scour for Mirabel. Maybe if Isabela had watched over her, then Luisa wouldn't have disappeared. If Isabela just considered that Luisa could make a mistake, be hurt, and be all alone.. 
She threw her bedsheets on the floor in rage. "Can't everything just be okay?" Her cracking voice was shaking.
"Isa?" She winced at the quiet voice and looked around. Antonio got up slightly and stared at her with big brown eyes.
Isabela groaned, trying to hold her feelings in check. "Go back to sleep." She muttered, getting her pillow up and squeezing it tightly. 
Antonio pursed his lips and looked at the little plush in his hand. "Do you want a parce-youngest for tonight? He's good for nerves." If it weren't for her emotions and inability to hold herself together, she would melt away with delight. But instead, Isabela shook her head. "I am fine," Her voice was still growling. She extremely wanted to be alone, but right now it was something impossible.
The door opened gently. "Isa?" Mirabel asked quietly, looking from the doorway. "How are you doing?"
Isabela rolled her eyes, stomping her foot. "I am fine!" She sat on her bed with a harsh sigh, folding her arms tightly across her chest.
"You don't seem to be fine." Mirabel came closer to her and put her hand on Isabela's shoulder. "I know you are worried..."
"Mi hermanas are idiots." She mumbled through her teeth. 
Mirabel chuckled awkwardly, not trying to disprove this statement. "I am sorry... I..." She never thought that her own running away would drive to something like this.
"I shouldn't have let her look for you alone" Isabela's voice pierced the silence of the night. She took a deep breath, looking at her arms. "You know, at the night when you disappeared, I had to drag Luisa home by force." Isabela knew that Luisa would never stop looking for Mirabel, even if it would cost her safety. And yet, she allowed her to go alone in the next day. Isabela couldn't even describe all the guilt she felt. Luisa was too stubborn for her own safety. Isabela knew how much her sister adored to help everyone; it felt like Luisa lived just to make everyone satisfied.
Mirabel looked down, biting her lip. "I'm sorry... I didn't consider anyone would go after me..." Isabela sighed, holding back the desire to slap her youngest hermana. She didn't think her family would be worried. Hell, how could she even think of something like that?
"You are brainless. Thinking that we'll just allow you to vanish? Really?" Isabela raised an eyebrow.
Antonio interrupted them with all his childhood love. "I didn't want to disappear! It was so sad!" He sniffled, wiping his nose with a sleeve. Mirabel pursed her lips unsurely. "I'm sorry, Tonito. I love you." She sat on her knees next to the young boy's bed. "But I'm home. And I'm sure Luisa will be too in no time!" God, Isabela really hoped so.
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nerdy-alto · 7 months
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Curse you, AC/DC, Mormonism, and/or Laziness
(In honor of Twitter's continued death throes, I figured why not repost one of the favorite long-form things I've written.)
I listened to a lot of music growing up. As the oldest kid, most of what I listened to in my very early childhood was my parent’s music; Linda Ronstadt, Doobie Brothers, Barry Manilow and various classical composers. It was a mark of my growing independence when I got my parents cast-off hi fi systems and was able to find my own radio station to listen to. And boy, did I listen to it. When we ran out of Star Wars topics to cover during recess we talked music. My big favorites were Duran Duran, or at least any band that wore make-up and had keyboards. Beyond the obvious and well-documented prepubescent attraction to non-masculine dudes, what totally attracted me to certain songs was their utter incomprehensability.
Telegram force and ready I knew this was a big mistake There’s a fine line drawing my senses together And I think it’s about to break If I listen close I can hear them singers oh-oh-oh Voices in your body coming through on the radio-oh-oh The union of the snake is on the climb Moving up it’s gonna race it’s gonna break through the borderline
Seriously, wtf does this even mean? But it didn’t matter to me, because this wasn’t your ordinary, Barry Manilow type song about some girl named Mandy, or dead showgirls (1) – this was deep. And maybe I didn’t understand it now, but when I got older – maybe mature enough to have a boyfriend, or wear makeup, or have a boyfriend who wore makeup it would all become clear to me, and I would listen to these songs with a profound understanding. Yes, I’d surely cogitate, this is the Union of the Snake breaking through borderlines. Good thing I got that telegram force!  
I can hear your cries of protest now – But surely you weren’t an idiot, nerdycellist, why did you just accept that kind of nonsense? To which I reply, Why thank you, no, I was of course a very smart child (2) but those crucial years of cerebral cortex development were marred by Mormonism. (3) Among Mormonism’s many fine doctrines and articles and rules and crap is the concept of “the milk before the meat”. Both the History and Theology of Mormonism is sometimes less than salubrious (mountain meadows massacre), and frequently insanely wacky (Adam-God doctrine). Since Mormonism’s also big on converting people, they try and keep the crazy shit from the new recruits until they’re far enough entrenched in the cult that they’re willing to suspend disbelief. The official party-line is the analogy that a baby must first learn to drink milk before it can eat meat – too much too soon and you’ll puke, I guess. So I figured that I can’t smile without you was like how Jesus Loved You and the reflex being a lonely child waiting by the door was the idea that my husband would have lots of other wives with me in heaven.
 So I had a certain comfort level with not understanding stuff – hell, it may have been a superiority complex – and I listened to a lot of radio. Also kiddies, in those days there was no internet to look up song lyrics, so if you didn’t have the album, you didn’t have the liner notes which only sometimes had lyrics printing in them. I was quite willing to settle for my ear’s first guess when it came to songs.
 The last piece of the puzzle here is my laziness; this has always been the bane of my existence. I learned to read very early and with that came a certain amount of knowledge in other school-related pursuits.(4) One of those was spelling, which is a terrible subject for english speakers and learners – it doesn’t make any sense! They only way you can learn how to spell is to be exposed frequently to the word. The other is just by rote repetition. My 5th grade teacher, Mr. Coombs, a favorite mostly because he tried to keep up with important pop cultural references (5), had developed a great strategy for lazy smarty-pantses like myself, who would normally get incomplete marks on take-home spelling homework that I deemed pointless busywork – he gave us 10 minutes on Monday morning to review our list of 20 words, then gave us a pre-test. You only had to do your spelling homework on the words that you missed and then you had the real test on Friday. I hardly ever missed any words on the pre-test, and so was able to skip the bogus busywork. I also pretty much aced the Friday tests. (6)
 So let us combine these points into a final scenario: A Friday spelling test was always a nice way for me to usher in the weekend. I had aced the monday pre-test and not had to waste any time copying words out or using them in sentences. Mr. Coombs would always use them in a sentence anyway when calling out the test, which was good in this case, because I had been zoning out when he first pronounced the second to last word, but he used a song lyric to illustrate it! Rad!
 I put my pencil to paper…
 “… dirty deeds and their Dunderchief.”
 huh.
 I knitted my eyebrows. That was one of those words, like wah-lah, that I had only heard but never seen written down. And that was from a part of the song that I wouldn’t understand until I was emotionally prepared to deal with the consequences of the full knowledge of that song. I was just going to have to use the context clues of the lyrics to figure out how to spell it. Dirty deeds and their Dunderchief… like an Indian Chief, only because they were Dirty deeds (and not Indian Deeds), they had a Dunderchief. You know, like a dunderhead. Yes! Now “i” before “e”…
 This made sense to me. Or at least enough that I scribbled it out in enough time to catch the last word on the quiz. It is to his credit that when Robbie Elmer passed back my corrected spelling test that he didn’t circle the word and write “stupid” or “what is this supposed to mean, idiot?”, but the big red (X) next to #19 was enough to shame me into blushing furiously while considering not turning in the paper at all so Mr. Coombs would never know that I mistook “Cheap” for a made up concept of a Leader of Dirty People.
Also, please note that any spelling mistakes in this essay were left in deliberately, as an excercise for the reader.
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Footnotes:
1. Holy crap, do I love this song. Also Manilow, but had to be closeted about that back in the day.
2. So smart in fact that I was used as a lab rat for some UofU grad students for their dissertation of kids who can pronounce all the words in Tolstoy but don’t really understand it, or doing stuff with mealworms or something. All I know is I got out of class for like an hour on the days I didn’t get out for orchestra practice! Score!
3. Man, is there anything that can’t be blamed on Mormons?
4. Manifested itself in Kindergarten, when I zoned out during reading because I was already done with Dick and Jane, and then zoned back in during math with the shock that I couldn’t make a 5.
5. He also brought his guitar sometimes and taught us Ghost Riders In The Sky – or was it Ghost Riders in Disguise? Also he demonstrated important scientific concepts by taking us out in his cessna two at a time to do barrel rolls and shit.
6. OK, I think I’m done bragging about my own clerverness now. But I will leave you with one final piece of evidence to my own brilliance – I was so smart I repeated 8th grade!
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survey--s · 8 months
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571.
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Do you own anything from Victoria's Secret "Pink" line? Do you really think the clothes are worth the price? Nope. I’m not even sure if Victoria’s Secret exists here lol. I guess there are probably a few shops in London or whatever.
What does your last incoming text say, who was it from, and how do you feel about that person? From Mike asking where the kitten’s food was. He’s my husband and I love him, though he does ask silly questions lol.
Did you have a New Year's kiss? No, I was asleep at midnight ha.
Are there any words that you cannot pronounce or that you pronounce incorrectly? Nothing is coming to mind right now.
After a long day at work or of doing something physical what tends to hurt more? Your back or your feet? My back, for sure. I have chronic back pain anyway though.
Do you have a smart phone? If so, what's your favorite app? Sure. I use Reddit, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and Mumsnet the most, plus Spotify and a few games too.
Who would you say is the overall best person you know, and why? My husband. Because he picked me and continues to pick me.
If you had to choose between being a Nurse or an English teacher which would you choose and why? An English teacher - I’d hate to be a nurse - I’m really not very good with bodily fluids and bad smells lol.
Do you have a specific gas station you usually go to? Or do you stop wherever? Yeah, the one at the end of our road lol. I mean, I’ll go to other places if I need to but that one’s the most convenient.
How much older than you was the oldest person you have dated/had a relationship with? Chris was eight years older than me.
Is anything stressing you out at the moment? Nah, I’m feeling pretty chilled out right now. 
What is your opinion on dating someone who already had a child/children from a previous relationship? Been there, done that, would never do it again.
Have you ever actually found a mascara that makes a huge difference for your lashes? Sure, most of them seem to do the job.
Would you rather have one or two great facial features that stand out, or have just an overall pretty face but have no special features? An overall pretty face, I think. 
Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day? Did you do anything last Valentine's Day? It’s only July lol. We didn’t do anything last year, we never do.
Do you check your horoscope daily? If so, did you relate to your horoscope at all today? No.
When you need to remember something, how do you usually go about doing so? I put a reminder in my phone.
Do you think you're a confident person? In your opinion what makes someone "confident" anyways? I think I have an average amount of confidence? I mean, I’m happy to go places alone and do things alone, at least.
How would you describe someone that is your type of guy/girl? I really don’t have a type.
Do you read books often? What is your all time favorite book and author? I don’t really read much anymore, but my favourite author is probably Neil Gaiman. Neverwhere is definitely my favourite book of his but I also like Alice in Wonderland and The Night Circus. I love fantasy type stuff that’s also kind of based in reality.
Have you recently accomplished anything that you are proud of yourself for? Yes! Setting up my own successful business, and I’m also proud of myself for learning to ride horses even though I fell off in a lesson and it really knocked my confidence.
Are you still friends with any of your exes? Do you still communicate with any of them at all? I wouldn’t say we were friends but I have a few of them on my Facebook.
What is your opinion on people that shop at Sephora for makeup as opposed to buying makeup from the drugstore? I really don’t care - people can spend their money on whatever they want.
When you enter a store like Target or Walmart where is the first section you go? It depends - normally I just start at the entrance and work round unless there’s something specific I’ve gone in for.
Are you the type of person to fight for someone or walk away? It depends on the situation, but normally I’ll fight before walking away.
Is marijuana legal for "recreational use" where you live? Also what is your opinion on the recent legalization of marijuana in certain states? Nope. I don’t really agree with it being legalised but I do think it should probably be decriminalised.
Do you live on your own or with your parents/a roommate? Do you think you'd like to live alone? I live with my husband, three cats and a dog. If Mike died I think I’d prefer to live alone rather than with a roommate.
How often would you say you use Microsoft Word? Never.
What is the last online purchase you made? Some supplements for the dogs’ anal glands lol.
Do you usually have bad symptoms around "that time of the month"? Yeah, mood swings and spots beforehand, then pretty bad cramps for a couple of days - even to the point of vomiting. I also get diarrhoea for a few days lol. 
Is there anyone you have to see on a daily/weekly basis that you really dislike? Nope, thankfully not.
Is your hair thick or thin? Would you say it's easy to manage? It’s really fine and flyaway - it’s not very easy to manage, no. It’s curly but frizzy and really not very nice lol. I just tie it up mostly.
Have you ever had to deal with any type of long distance relationship, whether it be a romantic relationship or a friendship? Yes.
Are you procrastinating doing anything right now? No.
How do you feel about being called sweetie/dear/honey/etc.? I’m not really a fan.
Have you ever had a thing for/relationship with a coworker? How did it end? I met Chris through work but we didn’t get together until he left.
What type of deodorant do you use? Do you notice any difference between powders and gels? Just whatever is on offer at the supermarket. I only use spray stuff though, I find roll-ons really sticky and unpleasant.
What would you say is your worst habit? Squeezing spots.
Do you have a place you go to a lot that you may be considered "a regular" at? Yeah, our local ice-cream coffee place, I guess.
Do you ever read the articles posted on the home page of Xanga? Has there ever been one that has really stood out to you? I’m sure I have done, but none of them stick in my mind now.
What is the weather currently like where you live? Rainy. It’s due to be like this for pretty much the whole of the next week lol.
Is there anyone that you text on a regular basis that you do not have saved in your phone? If so, why don't you have their number saved? Nope.
Do you have any plans for Mardi Gras? We don’t have that here.
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xtrablak674 · 1 year
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We Have History
My niece is coming to the city this weekend. She is twenty-three and lived with her mother in Florida for most of her life. She still lives in Florida, but now lives with her boyfriend, I think. She is her father's oldest child and this will be my first time meeting her.
I am not going to say I have let myself go this winter, but I haven't made a huge effort to look like anything much because I didn't have anything or anywhere I needed to go looking like much. I had started my yoga a week ago but then stopped it, I can't remember what broke up my routine, but now it seems I need to start up again. I will never lose any significant weight in four days, but I can start things like exfoliating and moisturizing so my skin will look decent for our weekend meeting.
My hair will need to be washed and retwisted, I am overdue for the former my seborrhea having built up again. I would have preferred a few weeks notice so I could have gotten myself together, but I can work with what I have. I still need to find a look that is comfortable and appropriate for whatever we are meeting for.
I am amused at people not asking for what they want I am sharing our DM's regarding her trip.
"You know I'm coming to New York Friday night?"
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"I don't know how I would know that" (As I am not Miss Cleo)
"I had it on FB but I will be there Friday to really early Sunday with my boyfriend."
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I can't avoid being a smart ass. (with my Starfire meme) But I didn't want to leave her out on a ledge so I went on.
"I'm waiting for something else. Because I know you're grown and know how to use your words. Sharing your travel plans isn't saying much. I have been in Florida dozens of times. #😏
"I would like to see you on my visit up there. I guess I forgot to mention that in my first message LOL."
Kids today, don't know how to ask for what they want. And I wasn't going to let her off the hook. She is an adult, she pays her own bills and socializes with whomever she wants to. It was important for me to get her to say what she wanted. I understand it was possibly difficult for her especially with a family member she hasn't met, but I felt it very important for her to stand in her truth and ask for what she wants. It's a very important life lesson, that if she hadn't learned before she will learn now.
It is important to ask for what you want because you have a 50% chance of being turned down. My general policy is to always just ask because you never know they might just say yes. When you learn how to ask for what you want, you will become bolder in what you ask for.
Then I was forced to address the elephant in the room when my niece sent me this message.
"I'm supposed to meet up with my father as well. I've gotta contemplate some places I'd like to see and make it a twofer."
The last time I saw her father, the person I refer to as former brother, was at my other former brother's wedding where he couldn't find it in his heart to come over and say hello to me. My Aunt Mary said I should have gone over to him, to which I responded I had traveled to the town he lives in not the reverse, I feel very strongly he held the host responsibilities not me. I am not going to rehash this event because I already wrote about it in [LAST COMMUNICATION WITH MY BROTHER] which is the letter I finally sent to my brother explaining to him how my treatment at his wedding well over a decade ago made me reticent in general about weddings.
This was my first time seeing him after emailing him this letter to which he never replied ergo the name of the entry. The groom also didn't greet me and I was met with open hostility by my first cousins, there is no digital record of me attending this wedding because I wanted to forget it. It also marked my decision not to interact further with my mother's family including the two I had shared a womb with. I want to be with people who celebrate me not tolerate me and since nobody on that side was ever really invested in me it would be no huge loss. The only thing that saddened me was not seeing the children, but my self-respect was worth more than being disabused constantly.
My relationship with my niece prior was once she was eighteen I would message her a happy birthday I deliberately waited till she was of legal age as to not have any signs of impropriety on my part. My former brother said, but this is your niece and I told him I do not know her mother and her mother doesn't know me, it would be inappropriate for a grown ass man to be talking with a minor. Between eighteen and twenty-three we went through a yearly ritual of happy birthday and her thanking me. I never pushed her beyond birthday wishes.
One year she had shared with me she had an interest in the playwright [Paula Vogel]. I was so excited I had done a play with Ms. Vogel during my internship with the Circle Repertory Theatre, I had an old program and sent her pictures to show her proof that I had indeed worked on the play and had known Ms. Vogel as much as a young stagehand intern could. I was maybe a little too excited, but I didn't know this young woman I was so eager to find a way to connect with her.
This year I couldn't find her on G+ so I went in search of her on Instagram and FB, it began innocently enough I wished her happy birthday and then told her I would like to send her a book for her birthday a book I had read that I thought she might like. This began a phase of us interacting more sharing little memes etc. I sent her a friend request on FB she accepted and now here we were meeting for the first time finally. But as her uncle I didn't want to put her in a situation where she would be uncomfortable or awkward esp with her boyfriend around so I sent her this message:
"If you didn't bring him up I know I wasn't. Your father and I have history. But for the record, I am very proud of the man he has become. It's up to him if he wants to share you with me. I'm fine being unsupervised with you and your beau. I live in BK so I have much more flexibility than he does."
I was anxious about sending her this message. Up until this point even through all of the birthday wishes and the more recent communications I never once bought up her father. I felt it would be remiss and unfair to her for me NOT to inform her of a conflict and allow her to choose how to proceed. She is a young adult she knows her mind and her heart, but I did not want her first interaction with me to be laced with tension and hostility that had nothing to do with her. Let me be clear I do not know how my former brother feels because unlike his daughter he didn't use his words, but silence speaks volumes and you can make whatever assumptions you like from his non-response.
She replied:
"I understand that. And that's not a problem at all. I'll give ya a time and place tomorrow."
I replied simply, smiling.
"Cool beans."
[Photo by Brown Estate, Comic Panel by George Perez, Screenshot of Ms Cleo]
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🔪Jeff The Killer & Homicidal Liu Headcanons🔪
~~~~~~
-Okay so Jeff, contrary to popular belief, is really short lol
-And I mean like 5’3 short, he was always super small compared to Liu - and was picked on a lot in school because of it
-But in school he wouldn’t let people pick on him for very long, he was most definitely the type of kid to needlessly fight in order to assert dominance and not look like a punk
-But he also just liked to do it!
-Jeff grew up an extremely angry kid, he’d fight, verbally attack people, throw things, threaten
-While Liu on the other hand was a tall quiet kid. He was the oldest, he read books, played video games and chess - and just wanted to be left alone.
-Oh yeah Liu was like 16, while Jeff was like 14 or 15
-In my headcanoned version they’re presently 27 (Liu), and 25 (Jeff)
-And while Liu was quiet, he understood humans and how to manipulate them amazingly
-He understood what to say, how to act, how to feel and how to cater to people in order to earn their trust
-So he could, of course, get stuff out of them lol
-He’d tell Jeff “look man, you don’t gotta beat the shit out of the teacher because he gave you a bad grade - just suck up to him and manipulate him, it’s much easier” and Jeff of course was like “Nah I ain’t doing that! Didn’t know I had a pussy for a brother”
-Jeff had an extreme distaste for his brother, he never liked him lol
-He thought of him as a weak, snobby goody-goody who never could have any fun
-(“fun” meaning illegal shit obviously)
-And while he was most of those things he definitely was not weak lol - they both were extremely strong, just in different ways
-And Jeff was too stupid to see it
-In Jeff’s mind - Liu’s sucking up = big gigantic pussy syndrome
-And god forbid Jeff take a blow to his own ego by acting like a “pussy bitch”, even if it’s a smart move to make
-All and all Jeff was, and still is a stubborn idiot
-When it came to Jeff and Liu’s parents - Liu was the favorite
-While Jeff was getting in trouble on the daily, fighting and being ignored and looked down upon by his own parents - Liu was getting all the attention and praise, continuously spoiled and shown off
-If any child could fly over the roof and shit gold eggs in their parent’s eyes, it would be Liu
-Jeff sucked at math and English, he hated reading
-Whenever he had to read out loud he acted like a little pisser for a bit, and then would try - failing miserably in the process
-after being corrected a few times by his teacher and other classmates he’d become enraged, throw his chair and desk and leave in a huff
-after awhile the teacher wouldn’t even ask him anymore
-it’s a win I guess?
-And of course Liu had no trouble with both, imagine Jeff coming home:
-“Fucker, help me with English.”
-And of course Liu is like “fine”
-Even though he found it annoying to have to help his brother who struggles so much with reading, he also found it to be comedy gold when he couldn’t even pronounce “Europe” correctly
-And the feeling it gave Liu to correct him was just amazing, anything that made Liu feel smart just filled him with such smug pride
-These tutoring sessions always seemed to turn into a physical fight between the two brothers, Jeff always starting it of course
-Liu usually winning
-Presently Jeff is a wide dude, built like a brick shit house
-Specifically wide with muscles, he has the physique of a body builder, very puffy cartoonish muscles - not extremely pretty looking
-He still suffers from small man syndrome, still extremely angry, still compensating for many things
-He hasn’t become anymore intelligent lol, he’s just become older
-He’s still impulsive, violent, crass, impolite
-But the only respectable thing about him is that he’s honest about who he is. He knows he isn’t the smartest, he knows he definitely isn’t a saint, he hides in dank abandoned houses - drinks like a fish and does hard drugs for the thrill of it. He murders and terrorizes, he tortures, he destroys.
-but he just can not muster a single fuck
-Liu is the complete opposite
-It’s funny, Liu and Jeff could not be anymore similar. They are two sides of a coin, they are both homicidal maniacs who want to fulfill their selfish needs. They don’t feel a single thing except the animalistic impulse to destroy, feed, and procreate. The only difference is one’s a liar, and the other is honest.
-Liu is so scared he’s going to taint his seemingly perfect appearance
-He kills and tortures as well - just behind closed doors.
-The amount of skeletons in his closet could fill 12 cemeteries, the things he’s done would make his parents role in their grave
-Yet he lies and puts on a persona of a smart, soft spoken man who cares for the people around him. A man who says he despises murderous lunatics, when he’s one himself - and usually worse than the other ones he condemns!
-That’s why they’ll never get along, they have no respect for each other
-Liu will always look at Jeff as a dirty, feral dimwit and Jeff will always see Liu as a cowardly liar.
-Anyways, Liu’s full first name is Luis
-Jeff is the type to visit Liu while he’s drunk just to fuck with him
-Liu is a spitting image of his father, both him and his father have very soft, kind features.
-While Jeff looks very much like his mom - either he has a constant scowl on his face or has the most evil smile imaginable
-Jeff just looks like he burns down buildings
-Jeff has crooked ass teeth
-When you think of Liu - think of Patrick Bateman. “I want to fit in.”
-God Liu is so boring he prolly listens to smooth elevator Jazz
-Jeff would listen to the noisiest shit
-like, if this guy had access to the internet and understood it he’d prolly listen to anime speedcore/soundcore
-Like he would listen to this^^^
-And he would fucking love it
-Also Jeff would be so, so problematic
-He’d prolly say the most offensive, ignorant shit just to get a rise out of people
-Anything to start a fight, anything to give him a reason to hurt people
-But I feel as if he’d be extremely misogynistic, like actually
-Would not at all be surprised if he genuinely hated women
-He’s on par with a rabid animal
-And even now at 25 years old, NOBODY LIKES HIM! Even the creepypastas that know of him are so fucking annoyed and/or completely put off by him
-They can’t even really use him for anything, and even if they could, would it be worth it to listen to him?
-He’s also that kid in middle school that’d show people cartel videos
-and Liu HATED it, totally despised it
-He’d be like “what the fuck man?! Cut it out”
-God forbid his reputation be tarnished by his brother
-Legit Liu would not give two shits if he wasn’t his brother, maybe he’d condemn it if people around him were doing the same
-But he personally does not care about social justice or people in general
-He’s just too self absorbed to
-Legit Jeff would be /pol/ on 4chan
-He probably frequented 4chan
-Oh Liu is so fucking big into Facebook
-He’d probably repost some of those stupid inspirational minion memes up on his page as if he was a middle aged mother
-This man is a “live laugh love” type
-If only people knew
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~Olive🐰
160 notes · View notes
ragingbookdragon · 3 years
Text
Raise Hell And High-Waters
Lanternfamily x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language
Author's Note: Based on the ask about Batman trying to adopt the little scrappy Lanternkid! Enjoy! -Thorne
**********************************************************************
Hal set the kid down on the couch in the lounge, setting their Justice League backpack beside them. They immediately busied themselves pulling out the game console, switching it on as they cocked their legs up on the cushions, slinking down until their chin was in their chest, head bent up against the arm of the sofa.
“You gonna be okay right here?” he inquired.
“Mhm,” they hummed, pressing the buttons until the music flowed through the speakers.
Hal nodded, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet; he flicked it open and tugged out some money, setting it in the cup holder of their backpack. “Here’s ten ones, okay? The vending machines are over there, get a snack and a drink if you want it.”
“Can I get a soda?”
“No sodas after eight.” He announced, like a parent, hands even cocked on his hips.
“Loser,” they griped, then looked at him. “Do they have flavored waters?”
“Any kind you can dream of kid,” he reached down and ruffled their hair. “Look, the meeting was last minute, and I wouldn’t’ve brought you if I could’ve found a babysitter in time.” He smiled halfheartedly. “I should only be gone an hour and a half, okay?”
They smiled. “Can we go to the movies after this?”
Hal’s face pinched. “Jesus kid, you really wanna see that midnight showing, don’t you?”
“Well, the child actor in the movie is like me,” they theorized. “Super smart way above their classmates’ levels.” Shooting them a bored stare, they said, “If you weren’t home-schooling me, I’d be a college graduate by now.”
He rolled his eyes and ruffled their hair again. “I gotta go. Don’t move,” he warned. “I’m serious. Stay right here.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He gave them one last look, then hurried off down the hallway.
***
It’d been an hour or so before they’d heard any movement, but when they did, it was above their head, brushing over the back of the couch. Hal had told them the Watchtower was completely safe, so they didn’t immediately panic. Whoever or whatever it was, was friendly.
“What are you playing?” The person—a man by the low gravel of their voice—asked.
“The new Pokémon game,” they murmured. “It’s easy compared to the other games.”
“How far back through them have you played?”
They pursed their lips, thinking for a moment. “Uncle Barry had his Game Boy and the original Red and Blue still in their cases.” Holding up the console, they said, “Hal bought me the Switch and Pokémon Sword and Shield the other weekend.”
“How do you like the newest games compared to the oldest ones?”
“They’re easier, built for a fun rather than a competitive, skilled mode.” They grinned as they caught a Lucario. “I haven’t lost a single battle since I started playing last week. Honestly, the last Pokémon games that actually made me try were HeartGold and SoulSilver.” Letting out a bored, ‘pfft’, they added, “Every game after that is all about building up a dream team and completely obliterating every opponent.”
“What’s your dream team?” they asked.
“Aurorus, Charizard, Gardevoir, Greninja, Lapras, and Lucario.” They shrugged. “I substitute Lapras out for Talonflame or Yveltal from time to time.”
“How do you play?”
“Offensively. I build up my teams stats then just take things head on.”
“No moves that boost defense?”
“Players that focus on stat moves are losers. Play hard to win or don’t play at all,” they griped, finally turning to look at the mystery man. “You’re Batman.”
He peered at them through his white cowl. “I am.”
“Why do you know so much about Pokémon?” they inquired. “You’re awfully knowledgeable for a grown man who takes down supervillains.”
Nodding, he replied, “My third son loves the games. He’d probably get the crap knocked out of his team by yours.”
They grinned. “Lemme guess, he focuses on stat moves?”
“Mhm.”
“Loser,” they snorted.
Suddenly, Batman looked rather serious. “Why are you out here all alone?”
“Hal had a meeting and couldn’t find a babysitter. The other guys were busy too.”
“They take care of you as well?”
“Yeah. I stay with Hal or John when they’re on earth, Hal mostly. Kyle and Guy keep an eye on my when I’m on Oa.”
“You’ve been to Oa?”
“A few times. Weird place. Weirder aliens and people.”
“What about school?”
“Hal home-schools me.”
“How come?” he questioned, watching them trample another player.
“I’m really smart. Like Einstein genius smart.” They shrugged. “Hal said it’d be easier to avoid attention if we home-school me.”
“Do you like it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not growing up around kids your own age. You’re by yourself a lot.”
“I was on the streets before Kyle found me,” they retorted. “I’m used to being on my own. And besides, kids my age are annoying. They’re still stuck in the play stage of development and I’m in the ask really inquisitive questions and solve impossible physics problems stage.”
Batman chuckled. “You’re pretty smart then, yeah?”
“Yeah.” They shut off their Switch and shoved it in their backpack. “Hal and the others can’t keep up.”
Getting off the sofa, they wandered over to the vending machines, sure that Batman was following them. They tried to reach the number pad, but couldn’t, frowning as they turned to him and held their arms up.
“Help me.”
He bent down and lifted them, letting them press the buttons; when they were finished, he didn’t set them down, merely carried them as they opened the chip bag and snacked. They were apparently content to lean onto his shoulder, head tucked under his chin. Batman gently rocked them, as he walked around, and soon they felt their eyelids falling shut.
***
“—ere are they!”
They awoke to shouting, startled by the sound of Hal’s panicked and scared voice. Batman’s hand touched their side. “It’s okay.”
“Hal’s worried,” they murmured, eyes droopy, tone sleep laced.
“Kid!” Hal’s voice was close now, then they were being yanked out of Batman’s arms and into the Green Lantern’s, life practically squeezed out of them. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me.”
“They were fine,” Batman sighed. “I had them.”
“I’m not talking to you!” Hal griped. “You okay?”
“Can’t—breathe—” they gasped and immediately his arms loosened, letting them inhale deeply. “‘M fine.”
“Come on, I’ve got your backpack. Let’s go home.”
As they walked off, Batman’s voice reached them. “You need to enroll them in a school that’ll let them grow and mature with other kids their age.”
Hal spun, fire in his voice as he snapped, “Don’t tell me how to raise my kid.”
When they turned the corner and walked to the Zeta tubes, they asked, “Do you mean that?”
“Mean what?” Hal asked.
“That I’m your kid?”
Their voice sounded so far, so lost, so…afraid. Afraid of hope, afraid of love, afraid of another parent leaving them on the streets, turning their back on them like all the rest did before.
Hal pulled back so he could stare at them, and he took their small chin in his hand, affirming, “Absolutely.” His eyes were serious but still warm. “You’re my kid and you always will be. And if anyone, and I mean anyone, tried to take you from me…I’d raise hell and so would your uncles to keep you with us.”
Tears flooded their eyes and they sniffed, burying their face in Hal’s neck.
He smiled, gently petting the back of their head. “I love you, kid.”
242 notes · View notes
accio-slytherout · 3 years
Text
Mischief Managed
Concept by @helliontherapscallion
Pairings: p!sbi x reader, p!dreamXD x reader, c!Philza x reader (could be taken as platonic/romantic)
characters: TommyInnit, Ph1lza Minecraft, Wilbur, Technoblade, Captain Puffy
mentioned characters: Fundy
Warnings: Fighting, blood, swearing, pranks, trickery (?), shouting (tell me if I missed anything!)
in game dsmp!au
summary: Reader is the god of mischief and trickery. After catching up with their old friend and his family, they got into a fight with the god of the server, dreamXD.
Not proofread
note: reader does not act like peeves! sorry in advance! i really liked this concept, i just had to write it. i put more effort into this than i did on my social studies essay. was fun to write :D straying from canon lore! I was not sure how to write dreamXD's text, so i wrote it in normal text! i am not very good and pranking, and not that creative or smart on those kind of things, so I will not really specify what is going on in the pranking.
flachbacks in italic
masterpost
------
(Y/N) was just skipping around the forest, looking for flowers to make some dye when they stumbled upon a boy that was picking some red flowers.
"WHAT THE F*CK" he shouted with a strong British accent. "Who the f*ck are you?" he continued. "Well who are you child?" they retorted.
"WHAT THE- IM NOT- THE FU- IM NOT A F*CKING CHILD IM A BIG MAN" the 'Big Man' as he called himself retorted, stumbling over his words. He heard a very mischievous laughter come out of the random person he stumbled upon, and he chose to put up the angriest face he could and crossed his arms.
"The name's (Y/N). How about you, big man?" they finally replied with a slight mocking tone. "Tommy. What are you doing here? I've never seen you around before." answered Tommy.
"I'm looking for some dye, so I can dye Fundy's fur" they replied, rather mischievously? Well, point is, Tommy's eyes lit up at the mention of pranking the fox. "Could I maybe help you?" he replied with an equally mischievous tone.
Thats how a friendhip started. They caused pure havoc around the server. Pranking the first person they thought of. They were laughing their butts off on the bench.
"TOMMYINNIT YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!"
Panic rose in their chests as they slowly swallowed and turned around. There stood Captain Puffy looking very angry... with bright pink covering her entire body. They tried their best to hold in their laughter, as she did not look very intimidating.
Yet, Tommy could not help but to start laughing loudly. That pushed (Y/N) over the edge and started laughing hysterically, and they swore they saw Puffy crack a smile at the sight.
"Im- sor- sorry-" he said inbetween his laughter. They both tried their best to stop laughing, and after a while, they did.
Puffy let out a sigh, and said "Tommy, I will get you back. I am warning you." with a glint of amusement in her eyes. Tommy seemed to have sobered up at the thought and looked scared. Puffy left with a wave and headed to her home to probably clean up.
"That was funny though." he said out of the blue. That started another round of laughter to go throught them.
"Say, (Y/N), how old are you?" Tommy asked after they have both calmed down. "I'm the god of mischief and trickery. I'm and immortal being. I am centuries old, kid." they answered.
"Really? That's quite pog! Did you know my father is also immortal? You might know him, name's Philza, Angel of Death. Does that ring a bell?" he rambled, ignoring the fact that they had just called him kid.
(Y/N) was ecstatic at the idea of being able to meet with their old friend again, but decided to say "HECK YEAH! I GET TO MESS WITH HIM AGAIN!" as to hide their feelings. They were the god of trickery after all. They had an image to uphold.
Tommy decided to go take them to Phil. Bad idea. As they reached the door of Phil's cottage, Tommy just burst into the house without knocking.
"Phil~ I'm baack~" Tommy called in a sing-song tone. Phil just said "Welcome back" in a monotone voice from the kitchen without looking.
As he was preparing supper, he heard Techno shout from the living room "TOMMY WHO ON EARTH IS THAT?!". Millions of thoughts start rushing through his head. Who could Tommy have brought with him? He ran out of the kitchen and went to see for himself who it was.
The scene in front of him just made him want to be buried 6 feet under the ground. There it was, His two oldest sons looking at the door from the bottom of the stairs and his youngest son, standing next to the person he hated the most. (Y/N).
They were walking through the forest. Phil felt something touch his shoulder. He turned around, raising his sword as he was startled. There they were, (Y/N), making the weirdest face possible.
"For f*ck's sake (Y/N)! stop it!". That only made them laugh more. "You should have seen your face!" they said inbetween laughter.
The man loathed them. He just wanted to leave them there, in the middle of nowhere, for this was not the only thing they have done in the past hour of adventuring. He, however decided to ignore them, for his heart could not bear the idea of leaving his companion alone.
"Long time no see, Philza." they said with a smirk. "Kill me already" he groaned. That was the only thing that came out of his mouth.
After Phil had supper with his family and the devil- sorry, unexpected guest, he went to clean up as his sons sat in the living room with (Y/N).
"So you're immortal?" said the oldest boy that they learnt was called Wilbur. They nodded as a reply, and he just said "Thats so cool!"
"I have read about you before, however, seeing you, I don't think the book described you correctly. Could you, possibly tell me more about your tricks and stuff?" Technoblade's monotone voice had a slight tone of curiosity and amusement while asking the question.
So they did. They told the boys about their stories. As they finished, they realised that Wilbur and Tommy had fallen asleep and Techno was half paying attention to them.
"You should go to sleep. Both of you. It's quite late already." A voice said behind her. "I'm a god, Phil. I don't need sleep." they retorted as they turned around, looking at the man.
"Suit yourself." he shrugged. He opened his mouth to tell his son to go to sleep, but he realised that his son, in fact was already asleep. He shook his head and got some blankets to lay above his sons. "I guess you can stay the night. It's late anyways" he spoke before (Y/N) could say anything and he left to go to his room. Huge mistake.
Philza minecraft was having a good sleep, when he heard a scream from the living room. He panicked, as his mind made up the worst scenarios possible. As he rushed downstairs, he saw Wilbur with bright pink hair, Tommy with a very bold red hair and hands, along with a half asleep Techno raising his sword.
Only then did he remember, that his least favourite person was at his house. Right as he thought about that, he heard giggling coming from the living room.
"(Y/N)!" he shouted along with Wilbur and Tommy. "Yes?" they batted their eyelashes innocently. Phil watched with amusement at the scene unfolding before him. Tommy and Wilbur shouting at (Y/N) and Techno lowering his sword and laying back down on the couch, sensing no danger.
"Boys, enough. (Y/N), will these dyes wash away?" he finally said in a stern tone that had a hint of amusedment in it. "Ofcourse father of minecraft. Run water through them and they will be gone" they said with such innocence that he would have believed it was not her had he not known it was their doing.
Wilbur and tommy quickly rushed to the bathroom to wash their hair out, and Phil swore the doors of the bathroom would fall off its hinges from the amount of force that was put into opening it.
"I must say, that was pretty funny, (N/N)." Phil said with amusement as he went to prepare some breakfast. (Y/N) smiled proudly from the compliment, as he was always telling her off after pranking.
Phil now remembers why he always asked them to accompany him on adventures. They were fun, and entertaining. Sometimes, they're even smart and helpful. The thought of his adventures with them brought a smile to his face.
A week in their visit, they heard a knock on the door. Phil, thinking it was just (Y/N), thought nothing of it. So he just calmly walks to the door and answers it. What he didn't expect however, was DreamXD at the door, floating in a menacing stance.
"You all give me your youngest son, or you all are dead. You have 24 hours. If you do not hive him by them, you are all dead." DreamXD said in a demonic sound.
As DreamXD turned around, Phil saw a cloud of something covering his sight, he felt... flour? he cleared the flour from his face and saw DreamXD covered in flour and (Y/N) on the roof looking rather sheepishly at DreamXD.
"Sorry, I thought you were Philza" they said sarcastically. "Not sorry, actually." they continued as they cracked an egg and poured it along with some sugar on to DreamXD's head.
DreamXD suddenly whips something out and slapped (Y/N) off the roof. As (Y/N) was used to falling from high places, they landed on the ground with nothing but a few scratches.
DreamXD stabs them with a sword, and blood splattered from their waist. (Y/N), being the god of mischief, had ofcourse had lots of experience on pranking, but wasnt strong. However, they are very witty, as they always find creative ways to prank people.
(Y/N) somehow found a way to make DreamXD retreat, but Phil could not see how. All he saw was smoke, DreamXD leaving and (Y/N) lying on the floor, with blood gushing out of their side making a puddle on the ground.
They let out a chuckle and turned to face Phil. "Your lives are safe, Phil. And what can I say? Mischief... managed." they trailed off as their eyes closed. Phil rushed to bandage them up and put them in a spare bedroom.
A week.
That was how long it was.
One singular week. Seven days. Yet it felt like seven years they had been unconscious. The house felt empty. No chaos. Everyone was worried about them.
Phil let out a sigh. He closed the door and sat down next to where (Y/N) was laying. He traced his index finger over the palm of their hand that he was holding, and whispered "I don't think you know this.. but you really are a great friend, (N/N). I love your personality.. Who am I kidding, I love you."
Phil then thought, they were unconcious. He let out a chuckle at the thought. "Look at me.. talking to someone unconscious." he said out loud, closing his eyes and resting his head on the palm of his hand that was propped up on the bed. Little did he know, they were fully awake, and pretending to be unconscious.
"Aww, thanks Phil. I love you too." he suddenly heard. He whipped his head around to their direction and saw that their head was turned to his direction. He hugged them, minding their injuries and whispered in their ear that he was thankful that they were fine over and over again.
Phil then felt their body shaking and heard gentle sobs coming out of them. He pulled away from the hug and cupped their face in his hands and wiped their tears away.
"What's wrong, (N/N)?" he calmly asked. They just cried more and gave him a hug. They told him that they have never felt accepted, and that the only person that has ever tolerated them was him. They told him that they were happy that he cared for them. They told him how much they cared for him and how great of a friend he was. They told him how much they loved him.
After their little heart to heart session, Phil went to go and prepare lunch for everyone in the house. He told the boys that (Y/N) was awake now. Everyone was glad and relieved that they were awake again. And (Y/N) was glad, that they now had a family that cared for them.
--------
end.
309 notes · View notes
fandom-puff · 3 years
Text
Cloak
Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader
Requested by: anon ‘Hi!!! So I saw that your requests are open and I absolutely ADORE your writing, so may I ask for a Sandor x stark!reader in a established relationship where maybe Sandor proposes and then the two marry? Could it be more centered on the marriage and very fluffing and loving? I love to imagine how his enormous cape would fit on the small reader! Completely fine if not tho!! Thank you!!💕’
Notes: so in this, you’re the oldest stark child, around 19, and it’s set around the time Margaery comes to King’s Landing ish. Sandor doesn’t escape after Blackwater. It’s all a bit vague and definitely not canon compliant, but just go with it I guess :)
Warnings: swearing, Joffrey being... Joffrey.
Gif creds to owner
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“Are you not frightened of the Hound?”
You smiled gently at your sister as you brushed her hair. “I’m not. Why D’you ask?” You said, pulling her fiery hair into northern style braids. Sansa’s pale cheeks flushed and you grinned mischievously. “What’ve you heard, Sister?” You tease. “Do you still believe some of the knights in your pretty songs exist?”
Sansa nibbled her lip- a nervous habit you both have- and shook her head. “No- I- well... it’s just that I heard... I heard the King say something about marrying you off to him, now that he’s been released from the Kingsguard. To make an example of the Starks,”
You sighed softly. “Look at me, Sansa. Everything the Lannisters do is at the expense of the Starks. You’re starting to understand this now and I’m proud of you for it. But don’t you worry about me. I’m not scared of Clegane. Besides... they’ve too much on their minds with the Tyrells coming to court. Stick to them, Sansa. The Tyrells are smart, the Reach is a valuable resource that the North has always relied on. Befriend Margaery. Win over Ollenna. Sing and dance with Loras,”
“But we aren’t in the north anymore, YN,” she whispered and you tipped her chin up.
“No. But we are northern ladies. And we are the sole heirs to Winterfell for all we know. It’s time we started playing the game of thrones properly, don’t you think? Now go. I’m sure Margaery is waiting for you to rescue her from her grandmother,”
***
With Sansa’s unease put to rest, you got yourself ready, braiding your own hair and dressing, before leaving your chamber.
Precisely on time, you passed Sandor in the hallway and flashed him a brief smile. “Clegane,” you said softly.
“Lady Stark,” he replied, giving you a rare hint of a smile as you backed into an alcove.
“Sansa has heard talk of... of a wedding,” you said lowly. “Between us,”
Sandor towered above you, but his massive hand was gentle when it cupped your cheek. “Would a wedding to me be so bad, aye?” He teased, but when he saw the severity in your eyes he frowned. “Joffrey did make a jest of it. I think it was more to torment the little bird, to make her uneasy,”
“She still thinks you’re a great hulking monster even though you’ve protected us since they put my father’s head on a spike,” you said bitterly.
“Don’t fret, my little wolf,” he said softly. “The cunt makes japes like that all the time. At the expense of our houses, our families. Only the joke’s on him if he goes through with it. Because then we will be married, all proper,”
You nodded and stood on tip toe to press a gentle kiss to his lips- well, more like his chin, even reaching up like you were. “I love you. I need to go, so do you, before people notice we’re gone,”
***
“Ah... Lady YN,”
You blew out a shaking breath as you steeled yourself to deal with Joffrey. You turned around and sunk into a low curtsey. “Your majesty,” you said sweetly, though you made sure to let your broad accent ring clear, to remind him that as long as the starks lived, winterfell would never be his.
“I have been looking all over the Keep for you, my lady,” he said, grabbing your arm. “I thought you had escaped... like your silly bitch of a younger sister,” you gulped, knowing he was talking about Arya.
“I’m sorry you had to look for me, Your Grace. May I ask what I am needed for? I would be honoured to serve Your Grace,” you spewed the words you knew boosted his ego, following him as he walked you back to the throne room.
“I have a gift for you,” he said casually. “At first I considered giving it to Sansa... but I already gifted her her father’s head... no, I think it’s your turn to receive a gift from your king,”
“Yes, your highness, thank you,” you said with a tight lipped smile, urging yourself not to start shaking. Joffrey walked you to the throne room, grinning madly to himself. He left you in the centre of the room and seated himself casually atop the Iron Throne. Your eyes darted around the room, soon landing on Sansa, who was with Margaery Tyrell in the shadows, her eyes red rimmed.
“Lady Stark, I think it’s time you found a husband! Your sister has been betrothed for some time, so I think it’s only right for her older sister to be wedded and bedded before her,” your eyes widened slightly and you nodded slowly. Cersei and Tywin were stood to the left of the throne looking thunderous. Clearly they weren’t happy about the heir of Winterfell being married off as a jest.
“Your grace?” You said carefully. “You’re very kind,”
Joffrey smirked. “I am, aren’t I? Dog? Come forward. I have found you a pretty little wife... do as you would like with her. The ceremony will be in ten days’ time,”
You shut your eyes and exhaled, making sure you looked relatively frightened. Sandor stepped forward, though he didn’t really need to, as he towered above the rest, and gave a solemn nod, murmuring “yes, your grace,” you repeated his words before you were all dismissed.
***
Straightening the neckline of your dress, you sighed, sweeping off invisible dust. It was light grey, almost white, with long velvety sleeves and a tight fitted bodice with tony direwolves embroidered on the trim. You let your hair- dark like your father’s- fall in loose waves over your shoulders, only the front part braided back.
“Oh, YN, you look beautiful,” Sansa whispered, flinging her arms around your neck. You smiled softly, rubbing her back.
“Come on now, sister,” you said, although your voice cracked slightly. Together you walked to the carriages that would take you to the Sept; you were to be married before the Gods, and you knew exactly what Sandor would have to say about that. Fuck them.
As you stepped out and climbed the steps, you held your head up, your face a stony mask of serenity. You entered the sept and took a deep breath, gasping when you felt a hand grab your arm.
“Don’t fret, Lady Stark... I’m going to give you away to the Dog, seeing as your father had his head cut off for being a dirty traitor,” you nodded as Joffrey began walking you to the start of the aisle. “He’ll tear you apart at the bedding ceremony,” he whispered in your ear. “And failing that, his sons will rip you in two the same way they did my grandmother,”
You ignored his words as he began walking you down the aisle, smirking to himself as you looked up ahead at the stained glass. You heard the court’s whispers as the disgraced stark girl was marched up the aisle, the small laughs at Ned Stark’s daughter being whored out to the Hound. At the alter, Joffrey let go of your arm and returned to his place by his mother as the Septon began talking.
“We stand he before god and men to join man to wife. If you would take your bride under your family’s sigil...” you looked up at Sandor for the first time in your ceremony, your eyes soft as you turned around. Your knees buckled under the weight of his thick cloak- yellow, with three black dogs embroidered onto it- as he draped it over your shoulders; you could easily use it as a blanket, spread out like a starfish and still have plenty of room. Instinctively, you tugged the fabric closer to you, his scent wafting up from the huge cloak as you both repeated your vows.
“For I am his as he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” you said softly, and finally, you didn’t have to speak anymore, because Sandor was kissing you, hard, probably harder than was decent in the Sept, and as the crowd of clueless ladies and lords cheered, you could hear Joffrey raging to his mother that you were supposed to be terrified...
But that didn’t matter.
Sandor leaned down to whisper in your ear: “Fuck the gods. Fuck the king. You are mine and I am yours,”
Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @zodiyack @rabeccablake @simonsbluee @wonderwoman292 @little-bit-of-randomness @doozywoozy
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deiitaelric · 3 years
Text
split up - part 4
PART 3 HERE
The young adult had more experience in cooking due to his age, so he checked the ingredients and decided on a dish himself. He started to work right immediately and kept Izuku working by his side to make sure he didn't leave a finger in the process. He started to command the other few students who went to help too, seventeen years old Katsuki included, who just wouldn’t stop complaining about being given orders. When dinner was ready, all class 3-A - plus added ones - had dinner together in small groups, the students still asking occasionally questions to their guests. 
Once he had his stomach full of delicious food, the kid reclined his exhausted body on Izuku. The greenette smiled tenderly and asked if he could pick him up, receiving a simple nod. Mini Kacchan made himself comfortable between his arms, resting his blonde head over Izuku’s shoulder. He started to fall asleep immediately even though Izuku was moving around picking up the table.
“So Bakugou-kun was this quiet, huh?” Uraraka let his eyes draw the kid factions.
“No really. I think he’s just exhausted. He had a tough day” Izuku rested his hips towards the counter, the duty finished.
“He kept looking at you all the time he was talking to us, like checking you were still there” She raised a hand and pocked one soft and round baby cheek, causing the kid to frown in his dreams.
“I’m the only one he knows here. I didn’t change that much so he recognized me at first sight”
“There are the others” The girl pointed toward the young adult and the two teens who were negotiating - or arguing about - something in a corner of the room.
“You know Kacchan, right?” Inquired Izuku, smiling with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, you’re right” She chuckled. “It’s cute seeing him being this openly affectionate with you, it’s unexpected but… right, you know? ”
“I know what you’re thinking” He dedicated a sad smile to the other three. “But Kacchan and I had these two past. The ‘friends’ past,” he caressed the kid’s hair making mini Kacchan to hug him tighter; “and the ‘no friends’ past” Izuku diverted his eyes back to the others, where the younger seemed to be losing his patience. Uraraka placed a comforting hand on Izuku's back and he smiled at her. “It’s okay. Is the past. We are good now and it seems like it would be even better”
She opened his mouth to say something but her eyes left him to look up right behind him. Izuku was about to turn when he felt a warm hand on the top of his head.
“Hey. Let me have him”
Izuku turned, which caused the warm hand to tousle his curls, his bangs entering in one eye. He looked up with the other eye, smiling even if he wouldn’t want to.
“Kacchan! I’m fine”
“Come on, you’ve been carrying him around for a while” The young adult tousled even more his curls but brushed the bangs away from his eye before grabbing the kid.
“Kacchan, you don’t have to, I can-”
“I know you’re strong enough to carry him, I just wanna help” The blonde settled the child on his chest and it moved something deep inside Izuku. It kinda suited him.
“Oh, well, then. Thank you, Kacchan” Izuku turned back and found Uraraka was gone. “Huh?”
“Should I put him on the couch? I think it’s late enough for him to sleep”
Izuku put his thumb between his lips, thinking about it. “He said he wanted to sleep with me so probably I should take him to my room. He said it himself so probably he’ll gone mad if I don’t take him with me”
“Yeah, he’s definitely gonna be mad if he wakes up in another place”
“I’ll take him to my room, then” Izuku made a move to grab the kid back but the young adult didn’t allow him to do so. “A-are you gonna carry him to my room?”
“This way, right?” Was all the blonde said before starting marching towards the elevator. Izuku left the room with a red glare following his flustered steps.
Izuku brushed the blonde hair away from the little face and covered him with the cover. He looked peaceful and Izuku kept looking at him until his company made a little noise. Turning, he found Older Kacchan looking at an All Might’ figurine. He smirked when his eyes met.
“You have one of these of Dynamight, you know?” Izuku held back a laugh. “Why are you laughing? I’m telling the truth” The blonde kept smirking, leaving the figurine right in place again. 
“I know”
“You’re not even a little surprised” He raised an eyebrow, not losing the smirk.
“Of course I’ll have Kacchan’s merch. I simp for the best”
“Oh? So you simp for me?” The young adult took a step, thinking it would derive one step back from Izuku. He smiled wider when it didn’t happen.
“I think you know already I’m a little bit of a fanboy”
“I still don’t get when you’ll gonna just broke under me or be full of this stubborn confidence”
“Broke un-under… Wh-what?” Izuku blushed hard, embarrassed for his own assumptions. “I-I think you should g-go to bed too, it’s getting late” The flustered boy opened the door only to find another blonde there. “Wha-chan!?”
“Fine! I’ll sleep at somebody else's” Katsuki proposed. Fuck Aizawa and his lazyness. How could two teens, a man and a little boy sleep in the same room with only one fucking bed? The kid had found himself a room to stay - fucking Deku’s -, but there were still three of them. He’ll do the same as the kid and the other two could kill each other if they wanted.
“Are you leaving me the trouble?” The young adult pointed at the teen with his head. Said teen started trembling out of annoyance.
“Go you to sleep  in somebody else’s room instead of me, then, like I fucking care”
“I’m sleeping in the fucking couch” Teen said, patience lost long ago.
“It’s all clear, then” Adult Katsuki concluded, leaving without another word. Original Katsuki found himself sighing. He would have to find himself a roommate for the night, and some spare blankets and so for his teen version. Heading towards the door, he could see how his oldest self was carrying the kid, dragging a flustered Deku behind.
When all the work was done, Katsuki cursed himself as he walked right towards Deku’s room. What was he doing, anyway? He didn’t know, and he really didn't expect what he found: a very red freckled face opening the door he was just about to knock.
“Wha-chan!?”
The nervousness of the greenette, seeing the twentyish blonde inside his room, twisted something deep down his chest. He just frowned deeply and pointed with an angry hand to his older self.
“You. Get out”
The young adult did so, but not without stopping one second to make sure Izuku knew he could count on him for anything and tousled his hair one more time. Then he started walking away, not looking back.
Katsuki stood there, thunderstruck, until Izuku’s eyes met his’.
“Is there... Anything you want?”
Katsuki just blurted the first thing he could think.
“You better take good care of the brat”
“Of course, Kacchan”
They shared a silence and Izuku moved his feet a little uncomfortable.
“Was he-?” Katsuki started, making Izuku frown.
“Kacchan, he’s nice, okay? Did you not see how he said goodbye?”
“That’s why, I didn’t- Nevermind. I just don’t like him”
“Huh? How can you not-?”
“He acts like he knows everything, like he knows me better, like he knows you better... I don’t like it”
“He’s you but with a few more years, it’s normal he knows you better than you do now. And who would know me better than Kacchan?” Izuku shrugged, smiling at him. 
“He’s not the only one who’s pissing me off, anyway. I can’t wait for them all to fucking leave”
“I guess it’s really weird having this other ‘you’ around, but it’ll only last a few days. And the kid is pretty nostalgic”
“Whatever” Katsuki rolled his eyes and shoved his hands inside his pockets.
“Do you wanna check on him? He’s sleeping in bed” Izuku moved over to let Katsuki take a look inside the room.
“It’s fine. Are you still up for practice tomorrow?”
“Of course”
“You would have to bring the brat, tho”
“I think he would like the idea, he told me he wanted to see how much you had improved his quirk”
“His quirk, huh?” Katsuki smirked while Izuku tried to fight a laugh without success.
“Yeah, he said it was his because he’s the youngest so he’s the original and all of you are just proyections of his future self”
“...that smart fucking brat”
“You always were”
“The fucking confidence” Katsuki bonked Izuku’s head as the latter laughed again, and then he turned around. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then”
“Good night, Kacchan”
“Night, nerd”
---
PART 5 HERE
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gallavictorious · 3 years
Text
Gallavich Week Day 2: Fantasy AU
Summary: Prince Ian is offered up as a sacrifice to appease one of the dragons that haunt his father’s kingdom. Rather than being burned alive or eaten he is inexplicably left to wander the dragon’s lair in peace, as long as he never tries to leave and never enters the mysterious tower chamber. Then he meets fellow prisoner Mikhailo and starts to wonder if maybe this whole sacrificial gig isn’t such a bad deal after all.
Or, Ian Gallagher tells a bedtime story, and Mickey Milkovich is himself.
Fair Warning 1: There’s some Mickey-typical homophobic language in this one.
Fair Warning 2: I wrote all ridiculous 5K of this today (work? what work?) and it’s a little bit of a curious mess. Like, the sort of curious mess you get if you take Lip’s Hall of Shame, @gardenerian’s lovely bedtime stories, the novel “Dealing with Dragons” by Patricia Wrede, the Swedish picture book “Bröllop i Marsipanien” by Lena Karlin, the Greek myth of Andromeda, a bunch of folk tales about shapeshifting lovers, and the questionable old practice of MSTing fics, and then you stuff them all into a Kee and shake her around for a bit and then you pour it out into the shape of a 12 hour long and highly inadvisable speedwriting session.
Read it at your own risk, below or on AO3.
Very Important Note: I make fun of fic writing in this fic. Please note that I’m only making fun of myself and general tropes; any and all allusions to actual fic in the fandom is entirely coincidental.
---
Lest They Say, Here Be Dragons
Hush now, child; settle down. Close your eyes – yes, just like that – and listen:
Once upon a time and elsewhere, there was a kingdom. The people there were no happier than people anywhere else, and poorer than most, but they made do and lived and danced and grieved and died as people have always done.
Jesus, that’s gay.
That is, until the dragons came.
Okay, now you’re talking.
Like a plague they swept the land, winged beasts with fire for breath and ice in their hearts. Every night the fields burned, and the villages burned, and the cattle burned and was eaten. Many a brave people took up arms and went to confront the monsters, and then they burned too.
Heart-broken and terrified, the people went to the king to plead for aid. “Send an emissary to the dragons,” they said. “Reason with them and strike a bargain, or else we are sure to perish.”
What a bunch of pussies. What they should do is, they should use a bunch a cow shit to build a bomb and nuke the hell out of those dragons. Problem fucking solved.
Now, this king was a scoundrel and a drunk and the queen had an unfortunate habit of turning herself into a bird and flying off to more interesting lands whenever the mood took her. They had six children but rarely paid them any mind and fair Princess Fiona, eldest of the six, was left to raise her younger siblings as best she could. False King Francis would have been perfectly content to turn his desperate subjects away if it weren’t for the fact the dragons unchecked rampage threatened the production of the spirits the king so enjoyed. So, donning a mask of compassionate concern, for he was a skilled liar, he promised the people that he would help them. But as soon as they had left, comforted, he turned the task over to his children.
The second oldest child, foxy Prince Philip—
Foxy Prince Philip?
Yeah, you know. Foxy. Like clever.
Why not just say clever then?
‘Cause it’s not alliterative.
Alliter—
Starts with the same sound. Foxy – Philip. Fair – Fiona.
Oh, I get it. Like, Ian – idiot. Ow!
Foxy Prince Philip was known far and wide for being the cleverest in all the land, and by using all his cunning he managed to strike a deal with the leader of the dragons.
“By using all his cunning.” Skimming over the details a bit there, huh?
You really want me to turn this into a Prince Philip story? Hear me go on and on about what a genius he is?
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
It was agreed that the dragons would spread out over the kingdom, each one building their own place to live near a village, and that the villagers would bring them food and drink. In turn, the dragons would refrain from casual pyromancy and protect the villagers from harm.
Protection racket, huh. Classic. Starting to like these dragons, man.
In addition, the cruel leader of the dragons demanded that each dragon be offered a child of the land in sacrifice. No matter how Prince Philip bargained he could not change the dragon’s cold heart on this—
Guess he wasn’t so clever after all.
—and so, with heavy hearts and much lamenting, each village drew lots to determine which poor child would be sent as an offering to their new resident dragon. However, in the village nearest to the castle the people grew angry when the beloved blacksmith’s only child, a small girl of just four, was selected, and they went to the king and they said:
“It isn’t fair that some people are asked to give up their only child to appease the dragons while you, who have six children, are exempt from the lottery.”
King Francis, fearing an uprising as much as he feared the dragons (since each was as likely as the other to leave him without a drink), quickly nodded.
“That’s true,” he said. “And fairness must ever be the true monarchs first and most important concern. Though it breaks my heart, I can’t in good conscience watch my people sacrifice their own children without offering up my own. You may take Prince Ian and give him to the dragon.”
At this, the other princes and princesses raised their voices in furious protest, for they loved their brother even if their father did not. But industrious Prince Ian—
Industrious? That really the best you can come up with?
—stepped forward and declared that he’d be happy to give up his life, so that the child of the blacksmith might be spared. And so, as the sunt set, he was taken away to the lair of the dragon that had made its home near the castle.
So let me get this straight… The king is happy to toss Prince Ian to the wolves ‘cause he hates him, and his siblings are all sad and shit but they still let him go off to get fucking eaten by dragons?
Yes.
Uh-huh.
What?
Oh, fuck you. It’s just a story.
Totally.
Stepping into the lair, with heart a-hammering but on stubbornly steady legs, Prince Ian set eyes upon the beast that was to be his destiny. He was momentarily relieved to see it was not the terrible leader of the dragons, as he had feared, but a smaller monster he did not recognize. Black was its hide, its eyes a cold sparkling blue—
Gallagher, I swear to god, if you turn me into some lame ass henchman dragon—
Keep interrupting, asshole, and it’ll be a pink fucking unicorn. And hang on, you’ll show up in a little bit.
Setting his jaw, Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death—
‘Course he did, the stupid motherfucker. Hey, if Prince Philip was so fucking smart, and if he gave a shit about his brother, shouldn’t he have given him, I dunno, a knife or something?
Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death, because unlike some other people he was not a selfish prick and he actually cared about the people of the kingdom, but much to his surprise the dragon did not burn him. Instead, it just stared at him for a good long while, until suddenly it declared:
“You must never leave the lair, and you must never set foot inside the tower chamber. Abide by these rules and you may live. Break these rules and I’ll rip your heart out and eat it while you watch, and then I’ll burn the castle down with your beloved siblings inside.”   
You tell him, dragon.
With that the dragon took flight and disappeared, leaving Prince Ian to stand alone in the great hall of the lair, confused but alive. The young prince remained where he was for a few minutes, thinking that the dragon might come back, but when it did not he set out to explore his new home. It was big, with endless rooms and nooks and crannies, but it was badly kept, with strange bits and pieces cluttering up the hallways and chambers. Prince Ian found some old blankets and he used those to set up a pallet in one of the nicer rooms, one that had a view over a small, overgrown garden. And then, because it was very late and he was not dead, he went to sleep.
The next day he continued his explorations and managed to find the kitchen. It was full with the meat that the villagers brought the dragon once a month, and remembering that the beast had only forbidden him from leaving the lair and going into the tower chamber, Prince Ian helped himself to a piece of pork that he cooked over a small fire.
Hang on, was there a fridge in the kitchen?
No. This was the olden days.
But the villagers came once a month with the meat? How did the dragon keep from rotting?
That’s not really—
Was it dried? Like a Slim Jim?
… sure. It was dried.
As he was eating, Prince Ian heard a sudden scraping noise behind him.
The hell did he cook it over a fire for then, if it was dried?
He looked up and spied another young man standing in the doorway.
I’m just saying, it doesn’t make any fucking sense, man. Wait, is this me?
Prince Ian frowned. “Who are you?” he asked. “Are you a prisoner of the dragon too?”
The boy shrugged. “Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean, I do some work around here. Clean up and shit, in exchange for not getting eaten. Name’s Mikhailo.”
About fucking time. Only, how is it fair that you get to be prince and I’m a fucking cleaner?
Prince Ian tactfully did not mention how the lair was impressively dirty for a place with a fulltime cleaner but invited Mikhailo to share his meal. As they ate, Prince Ian studied his new acquaintance. He was the same age as but shorter than the prince, with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony.
Hair as black as— The hell was that?
Nothing.
Yeah, okay, then why are you smiling? Eh, fuck you. Prince Ian’s fucking thirsty for Mikhailo, I get it.
Though his manner was somewhat brusque and uncouth, Prince Ian could not help but feel himself drawn to Mikhailo. The boy was funny and easy to talk to, even if he seemed reluctant to say too much about himself or where he came from. Prince Ian tried asking him about the dragon, but despite apparently having lived there ever since the dragon moved in, Mikhailo couldn’t tell him much.
“Hardly ever even see it, man. At dusk and dawn mostly, so I guess it spends the night flying around with the other dragons, terrorizing the peasants or whatever. During the day it holes up in the tower chamber. Guess dragons must sleep too, huh? Don’t fucking go up there,” he added sternly. “It ain’t fucking kidding about killing you if you do.”
Having found a friend, Prince Ian found that life at the dragon’s lair wasn’t all that bad. He missed his siblings and being outdoors and practicing with the soldiers at the castle, and he resented the loss of his freedom, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet, and enjoyed spending time with Mikhailo. However, one thing he soon grew very tired of was eating nothing but meat. The dragon didn’t seem to require anything else, for it was the only thing the villagers ever delivered, and Mikhailo – whose tasks included receiving the monthly tribute – just gave Prince Ian a weird look when Ian suggested he ask the people to bring some vegetables next month.
“That ain’t the deal they’ve got with the dragon,” he told Ian. “Ain’t nobody gonna listen to me if I go trying to change it.”
Yeah, real Prince Charming there, wanting Mikhailo to risk his life so Ian can stuff his face with fucking cucumber.
Undeterred by Mikhailo’s lack of enthusiasm and courage—
Fuck you.
—Prince Ian decided to take it up with the dragon himself. In the weeks since he arrived at the lair, he hadn’t met the creature again, not even once; he’d just heard the powerful swoosh of its wings when it came and went at dusk and dawn. Now he went up the stairs to the tower chamber and there he waited until night had fallen and he noted the scraping of claws against stone inside the room. Then he knocked at the door.
There was a long silence. Then the door slammed open with enough force to nearly undo it from its hinges.
“What are you doing here?!” the dragon roared, terrible in its fury. “I’ve told you to never come here!”
“You’ve told me to never set foot inside the room,” Ian reasoned, fighting to keep his voice calm. “And I’m not. I just wanted to ask if I may have the use of the small garden just outside the lair. I miss being outdoors and I could grow vegetables for Mikhailo and me.”
Jesus Christ, man, again with gardening? Thought you were over it.
“You may never leave the lair,” the dragon, a garden-hating meanie, snarled, and then he closed the door in Prince Ian’s face.
As he fucking should.
“Probably worried one of the villagers will spot you and, I dunno, mount a rescue,” Mikhailo said shortly the next morning when Prince Ian told him of his failed attempt. “Anyway, you’re a fucking idiot for going up there like that. You get it won’t hesitate to kill you, right?”
“Right,” Ian agreed. “But,” he added with a frown, “why hasn’t it yet?”
“You fucking complaining?” Mikhailo snapped, and then he stalked away, and Ian didn’t see him again for three days.
Listen, you get that I get that Mikhailo is the dragon, right? You’re not fooling anyone, Gallagher.
Then, one day, fed up with the dragon being a really annoying prick, Prince Ian grabbed a huge sword he conveniently found lying around in a cupboard, because the lair was a fucking pigsty, suitable for a pig like the dragon, and he went up the stairs and kicked in the door and he cut the dragon’s throat while it slept, and then he went off and found himself a nice prince to marry.
That’s not how the story ends.
Hey, where are you going? Come back- Jesus, I’m sorry, okay? Gallagher, I’m sorry. Just come back here. Tell me what really happened.
Prince Ian woke with a start on his pallet in the lair. He’d had the most vivid dream about killing the dragon—
A dream? That’s the lamest fucking— Ah, fuck. Sorry.
—but for some reason it hadn’t felt as satisfying as he had thought it would. For all that Prince Ian often fantasized about strangling the beast, it seemed he didn’t actually wish to see it dead. With that disconcerting realization in mind, Prince Ian went to break his fast, resigned to doing so on meat and yet more meat. But in the kitchen he found Mikhailo, and on the table in front of him was a pile of cabbage and carrots and onions. 
“Guess the dragon must have talked to the villagers after all,” Mikhailo muttered, refusing to look at the prince. “And, uh, there was this thing I wanted to show you.”
Without waiting for a response, he spun around on his heel and walked out the door. Curious, Prince Ian followed, through doors and up and down stairs he never knew existed. Eventually, he found himself standing in what appeared to be an inner courtyard. It was small and the walls surrounding it very high, but up above the sky was blue. Prince Ian turned his face towards it and for the first time since he came to live at the dragon’s lair he felt sunlight on his face.
“It’s a shithole,” Mikhailo said. For some reason he sounded a little nervous. “But if you wanna go outside, you can come here. And there’s dirt in those bins, so I guess you could grow stuff in them? Just gotta wear this hat. Anyone sees you, they’ll just think it’s me.”
Privately, Prince Ian wondered who’d ever be able to see him behind walls that high, but he wasn’t going to argue. Wearing an ugly had was a small price to pay for being able to go outside, and to have a garden.
He gave Mikhailo a small smile; Mikhailo smiled back.
“Mikhailo smiled back.” Yeah, you bet he was laughing his ass off, ‘cause he thought Prince Ian was a huge fucking dork.
Things were good for a long while after that. Prince Ian spent his days in the garden and in Mikhailo’s company, and though he still resented being locked away from the world it was easy to ignore that when he had something to do and when his plants started to grow and when he was with Mikhailo. The two young men became closer and closer with each passing week, and soon it seemed to Prince Ian as if they had always known each other. He could no longer imagine a life without his friend.
He suspected that Mikhailo felt the same. It was there in the way he laughed at Prince Ian’s jokes; the way he sought him out to do nothing but talk; the way his gaze sometimes lingered on the prince, the look in his eyes unreadable.
Prince Ian suspected that Mikhailo too wondered what it would be like to press their lips together and hold each other tight. Sleep together; map every inch of each other’s bodies.
Hang on a minute, you’re telling me they haven’t fucked yet? The hell they’ve been doing?
I told you. Hanging out. Talking. Laughing.
Jesus Christ, that’s so fucking gay.
Two men not fucking each other is gay? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. One day we really need to talk about all your internalized homophobia.
My interna-what? Ah, shut the fuck up. Continue with the story. All these interruptions ain’t doing much for the flow, you know.
Really? I hadn’t noticed.
Prince Ian became determined to find out if Mikhailo felt the same way as he did. He realized that he needed to be careful, however, and not push too hard, lest he spook the other boy. Even though he was almost sure he could see longing in Mikhailo’s eyes, there seemed to be some invisible hand holding him back. Every time Prince Ian was convinced they were finally getting somewhere, Mikhailo would suddenly pull back, as if stung.
Or as if remembering something. Himself, maybe.
Bu then came a cold, clear autumn day almost exactly one year after Prince Ian had been taken to the dragon’s lair.
Whoa, wait, now you’re telling me they’ve been hanging out for one fucking year and they still haven’t banged?
What can I say? Mikhailo’s a pussy.
Whatever. This story is unrealistic as fuck.
Prince Ian and Mikhailo had spent the afternoon together in the garden, as they almost always did whenever Mikhailo wasn’t busy with any of his mysterious chores (which he still refused to tell Prince Ian much about, but which sometimes took him away from the lair for days at a time). Once it started getting dark they went inside and dined on chicken and potatoes from Prince Ian’s patch, and as so often happened they started bickering and play fighting.
If that’s something that happens a lot you might have mentioned it earlier. Established it or whatever. Those mysterious chores too. What’s that all about?
Oh, my bad. Maybe I should start over? Once upon and time—
Nah, man, you’re good. Just a suggestion for next time.
Thank you.
You’re welcome.
They were chasing each other around the kitchen when Mikhailo tripped over the muddy shoes he’d lazily left there the night before and fell to the floor.
You know these meaningful little comments ain’t actually clever, right? They don’t actually add anything to the story.
I like them.
Prince Ian, ever chivalrous, grabbed hold of his friend’s arm to break his fall, but ended up going down with him instead, pinning Mikhailo to the floor with his big, strong body.
Fucking finally.
Their eyes met and Prince Ian felt his heart starting to beat faster. He could see a faint blush spreading over Mikhailo’s face. Neither of them spoke; neither of them moved. Then, slowly, slowly, Prince Ian leaned in to brush his lips over Mikhailo’s. Mikhailo lifted his head to meet him in a kiss to end all other kisses, a kiss to inspire a thousand love songs.
Uh-huh, and then…
And then they went to Prince Ian’s room and had sex all night long. But when Prince Ian woke the next morning—
Wait, wait, what? That’s it? “They had sex all night long.” How about some fucking detail, man?
Fine.
After having great sex using lots of good lube all night long, Prince Ian woke up alone in his bed.
I hate you.
He went in search of Mikhailo but couldn’t find his friend anywhere. He looked in the garden and in the kitchen and he went to the sad little cellar chamber Mikhailo called his room even though Prince Ian had never actually seen him sleep there.
Because he’s the dragon and sleeps in the tower chamber. Great hint, Gallagher. Real subtle.
Fuck off.
A week passed and Prince Ian was starting to suspect that Mikhailo was gone for good this time. Perhaps the dragon had found out about their tryst and had sent him away? Or maybe Mikhailo was disgusted with what had happened and wanted nothing more to do with the prince? Prince Ian wondered and worried and feared, and when finally Mikhailo returned, stepping into the kitchen like nothing had happened, Prince Ian was so exhausted with terror and regret that his relief immediately transformed into fury.
He yelled at Mikhailo, called him names and demanded to know where he’d been. He named him a coward and—
Hey, what’s the matter? You okay?
Yeah. Yeah, man, I’m fine.
You don’t look— Listen, Prince Ian’s just being an asshole, okay? He saying a bunch of stupid shit ‘cause he’s sick and tired of not knowing if he means as much to Mikhailo as Mickhailo means to him. He doesn’t mean it.
Mick?
I mean… He probably means it a little. He’s not wrong.
No, he’s— Fine. He means it a little right then. But he is wrong, okay? He doesn’t really understand what’s going on with Mikhailo, but he’ll get it later. He’ll know he wasn’t being really fair.
… yeah?
Yeah. Okay?
Okay.
Great. Maybe we should speed this bit up a little—
Once Prince Ian had finished shouting, Mikhailo just stared at him for a long moment.
“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” he spat, and then he spun around and disappeared through the door.
Prince Ian was immediately overcome with regret, yet he was still too angry and hurt and stubborn to run after the other. He went about his day in a very foul mood and when he went to bed that night Mikhailo was still gone. Prince Ian slept fitfully and in the middle of the night he woke to a loud crash, soon followed by several more. He realized it must have come form the tower chamber and after a moment of hesitation he grabbed his nightgown and rushed up the stairs.
So, he brought a nightgown with him when he thought the dragon was going to kill him?
Of course not. He found it in one of the rooms.
Yeah, okay, but why are there so many rooms in this fucking lair anyway? What’s with all the old stuff there? Didn’t the dragon build the place to live in like right before Prince Ian was sent there?
Mickey. It’s getting late and I’d really love to wrap this up and go to bed. It doesn’t really matter about the rooms. Can I just continue with the story?
Whatever, man. Just thought you should know there’s a bunch of plot holes in your little fairy tale.
 Once he reached the door to the forbidden room, the crashing noises had stopped. Instead, Prince Ian heard whimpers and moaning, as if from someone in great pain. It could only be the dragon – something must be wrong with it.
Yeah, ya think, Sherlock?
Prince Ian knocked on the door. There was no reply, other than more whimpers and moans. Steeling himself, he tried the handle. The door was unlocked.
That’s awfully convenient.
Stepping inside, Prince Ian found the dragon on the floor. It was clearly hurt, for there was dark blood pooling underneath it. As Prince Ian entered, the great beast lifted its head but said nothing and made no move to attack him. It seemed it was too badly hurt to pose any threat.
It occurred to Prince Ian that he could kill the dragon. He could go down to the kitchen and fetch the biggest knife there and then he’d be free and he could go back to the castle and his siblings and—
The dragon made a low, pained sound and let its head fall back to the floor, closing its eyes.
Prince Ian went down the stairs, but he didn’t fetch a knife, he fetched bandages instead. Though part of him cursed himself for a fool, he knew he couldn’t bring himself to kill the dragon, monster or not, and couldn’t bring himself to let it bleed to death either.
That’s a huge fucking mistake. Maybe the dragon never hurt him but it still kept him imprisoned. Prince Ian should be getting the hell out of there when he has the chance.
Hmm, yeah. Choosing to be locked up just to be the person you love does sound like a pretty insane thing to do.
Oh, fuck off. That’s totally different.
Sure, Mick.
By the time Prince Ian returned to the tower the dragon had lost consciousness. The prince set to cleaning and bandaging his wounds, having learned the art of it while training with a medical witch who lived at the castle. It took a great long while; the dragon was large and heavy and the cuts in its side long, if shallow. But Prince Ian was nothing if not determined and eventually he had the beast wrapped up.
As Ian moved to rise, the dragon stirred.
“The hell are you doing?” it muttered, blinking up at Ian. Then it spotted the bandages, and the ice blue eyes widened. “What the— Are you fucking insane? This is a... is a… real bad fucking idea… ”
It sounded… strange, and not just from the pain and blood loss, Prince Ian thought. Sounded not just slurred but softer somehow, in spite of the uncharacteristic cursing; sounded almost familiar; sounded like—
“Mikhailo,” Prince Ian whispered.
Ooooh, big surprise! I’m so shocked right now!
You know there are other uses for plot twists than to shock the reader, right? Or actually, I guess you don’t know, but if you picked up a book once in a while—
Yeah, yeah, whatever. What happened after this great and totally unexpected reveal?
The dragon lost consciousness again so Prince Ian went to bed and slept soundly and when he woke the next day he spotted Mikhailo leaning against the wall of his room, looking tired ad unhappy. He was even paler than usually and there was a stiffness to his posture that suggested quite a bit of pain, but other than that he seemed well enough.
“So,” Prince Ian said, trying for casualness as he sat up on his pallet. “You’re a dragon.”
Mikhailo shrugged. “Seems like it.”
“But only by night.”
“Yeah… We turn when the sun sets, and turn back again when it rises.”
“I didn’t know that about dragons.”
“No one around here fucking does. People realize how helpless we are during the day, they’d kill us in a heartbeat. My dad says— “
“Your dad?”
“The leader of the dragons. The really big, white one? This whole terror and extortion thing was his idea, once he realized that no one in this kingdom has a clue about dragons.”
“Oh.”
“He hates humans. Thinks they’re useless and weak. If he knew I kept you around instead of killing you, he’d have murdered us both.”
Jesus fucking Christ, laying it on a bit thick with the metaphysical shit there, don’t ya think?
You mean metaphorical?
I mean it’s fucking stupid, that’s what I mean.
Might be closer to allegory anyway.
Uh-huh. Nobody fucking cares, Shakespeare.
“So, anyway,” Mikhailo continued, “you should probably try to go as far away from here as possible. Find a ship and go across the sea or something.”
Prince Ian blinked. “What?”
“Yeah, man, you won’t be able to go back to your castle. No way to stay hidden there. I know this guy up in Dikno, he might—”
He fell silent as Prince Ian jumped up from the bed and crossed the space between them in two long strides, and then he gasped loudly as the prince’s lips found his.
It was another one to inspire love songs.
“You idiot,” Prince Ian said fondly when eventually they broke apart. “Of course I’m not going anywhere. Unless,” he added, suddenly shy, “you want me to.”
Mikhailo made a face. “No, you fucking moron, I don’t want you to go,” he finally said. “But my dad—”
“We’ll find a way to deal with him. We’ll figure out how to sort it out and set things right between humans and dragons. We’ll find a way, together. Okay?”
And Mikhailo the dragon looked at his prince for a long moment and then he smiled. “Okay.”
At his prince, huh. Surprised you got room for all those big words in your head when your ego’s taking up so much space. All right, then what happened?
They organized a rebellion against the leader of the dragons, I guess. I don’t really know. That’s another story.
What do you mean, another story? Is this it? You spend all that time setting it up but when you get to the good part with the fighting you just stop?
Yeah, it’s getting really late. Kid’s asleep anyway.
Kid’s been out cold since, like, before the dragons even showed up, man, don’t fucking pretend this story was for her. … you really not gonna continue?
Nah, I’ll continue. But for the next scene I figured we might try a little show, don’t tell…
Oh, really? What’s the next scene?
Make-up sex. Prince Ian fucking Mikhailo’s brains out. And hey, spoiler alert: Mikhailo comes four times.
Four times, huh.
Yeah. So… wanna know how it happens?
Okay.
Okay. It starts like this—
---
So, yeah. There we have it. The things we write for Gallavich Week… XD
I am halfway outraged that this is the longest fic I’ve ever written for Gallavich, but I’m rather pleased I managed to write something for this theme! Guess I’ll go to bed both proud and embarrassed and dead tired tonight. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Where I am, we’re half an hour past midnight, but seeing as it’s still Monday somewhere, I have decided that I’m posting on time. Yay me! @gallavichthings
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