#eh it’s not canon either way so who cares | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has a low social media market share in South America.

#eh it’s not canon either way so who cares

number1villainstan · 2 months

Text

I just saw Dune Part 2 (2024) with some friends so here are some Thoughts i guess

I feel like on the whole these movies are trying to either downplay or cut out a lot of the misogyny/sexism in the book, although Herbert's view of gender roles is so pervasive in the book that it's hard to change without completely changing the worldbuilding (the Bene Gesserit especially) and/or certain characters and getting second-order effects that weaken or change the main plot. But they did a good job at least making it much less in-your-face and offensive than in the book. One of Chani's lines is about how "men and women are equal" in the Fremen, and while I don't really think that's supported by how the movie depicts Fremen I can see and respect where they're coming from

It's still a very male-dominated movie, but it's honestly pretty faithful to the book, and like--what are you gonna do? It's Dune. You can't exactly just genderbend Paul and get the same story, at least not when the Bene Gesserit are still what they are

wait now i'm thinking about an AU where the Kwisatz Haderach turns out to be a trans man. ideally you'd get both the canon critiques of white savior mythos/the Messiah trope and a deconstruction of the sexism and strict gender roles of the society of the Dune universe. also ideally you'd get a whole bunch of other queer characters in the same AU. you could also do an AU where the Kwisatz Haderach/a potential Kwisatz Haderach turns out to be a trans woman, or even nonbinary, but i feel like those would make for very different stories cuz AGAB/ASAB seems to matter like A Lot in the Dune universe

the movies did manage to completely get rid of the homophobic parts of the Harkonnens' characterization though. i did like that

although it was still using disability/deformity as shorthand for Ugly Evil Guy which :/

but enough about the Problematic Elements(TM) let's talk about the actual story

Chani was a lot more politically and generally assertive in the movie than I remember her being in the book, although it's been A While and she was also very much a Main Character who had thoughts and opinions and importance outside of the male characters she was affiliated with (as much as anyone can escape the political black hole that is Muad'dib but) AND! she actively advocated for Fremen self-governance in the beginning! although she didn't keep it up cuz she got sucked into the Paul black hole. this may have happened in the book it has been like two years since i read the first book and it was very disjointed reading cuz College(TM). I also liked the ending part, where it was implied that Chani was leaving, on her own, because she was angry with Paul, which implies More Character Development. (Also they didn't seem to do the Fremen polygamy/concubines thing in the movie, which was a good call, i feel like that part of the book was maybe informed by anti-Arab racism)

Jessica was incredible, of course. Love me a good ruthless woman. Her main character trait/motivation was definitely Paul's Mother but her main personality trait seems to be incredible ruthlessness. there is no madonna/whore complex to be found here no sir

(i may be wrong about that part but eh)

And of course the Harkonnen Blood reveal. the story definitely sets up Atreides as The Good Guys (fair, just, merciful, looking out for and caring about the people under their rule) and the Harkonnens as The Bad Guys (cruel, unjust, power-hungry and traitorous), which makes the reveal that Jessica and Paul have Harkonnen blood an incredible symbol of Paul's corruption arc. He goes from "I must do anything possible to avoid the holy war" (the Atreides way) to "CONQUER ARRAKIS AND ELIMINATE ANYONE WHO STANDS IN MY WAY" (the Harkonnen way) over the course of...technically years, in the book, although that wasn't super well communicated in the movie I feel--in the movie it was only months, cuz Alia hadn't been born yet by the end. And right before we see the worst of it we end up learning that Jessica, his mother, was a daughter of Baron Harkonnen. Jesus fuck.

there's definitely some Not Great elements about using ancestors/blood to determine morality but still

princess irulan was introduced! as an independent character and actor in her own right oh my god! although she still falls prey to the sexism infusing the original material

the dune books (at least the first two) are in this weird state where there are very strict and specific roles/walks of life that female characters are allowed in (domestic/family life and religion) and men dominate Everything Else and nobody every questions that, not to mention the whole thing about how apparently even the very female religion/psychic field is supposed to be dominated eventually by This One Man who can do it better than all the women, and yet all of the female characters are well-developed and feel like people. ykno aside from the complete lack of protest in being shoved into a sexist role

anyways irulan got more development than i remember from the books, i loved that, and that we got her POV too. these movies are really working to uplift and spotlight the female perspectives that were often somewhat sidelined in the books and i love that

also stilgar's (blind?) faith REALLY came through which i liked

overall, yeah, the movie was great. it's very faithful to the spirit of Dune while addressing some of its flaws/datedness--it understands what its message is and what it's saying, and the way it's constructed really hammers home the critiques of imperialism and racism the original was built on

I think this is gonna end up a trilogy, based on only the first book, and it very much seems like the third (and final?) movie is going to specifically focus on the war against the Great Houses after the Emperor falls, which iirc was kinda glossed over in the book/between Dune and Dune: Messiah. I can't wait to see what they do with it

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune part two spoilers #dune part 2 spoilers #dune 2 spoilers #dune 2 #also that one poster where it's paul and chani walking forward with the sun to their backs and chani is VISIBLY IN FRONT OF PAUL #frank herbert could never

327 notes · View notes

midniiights-garden · 4 months

Note

I love your hcs for modern au! mizu, could you possibly write some headcanons relating to her getting into a relationship?

(A/N: YIPPIEEEEE AN ASK!! Omg I think this would be interesting and there's a bunch of other HCs on this but imma put my own spin on it ^^)

Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex, internalized homophobia, sexisim, racisim, grooming (??)

~~~

Ok so first of all yeah, I wanna flesh out her past relationship with Mikio in this AU. I think it would be important in shaping Mizu's view of her future S/O.

So, as I said in my last post she probably met Mikio when she was in University, he would probably be a teacher or something. Lowkey, considering the age gap, in this AU he would have probably either been some kind of forced relationship like in the canon or he groomed her in some way.

Either way, it made moder!Mizu really wary of kindness, now viewing everyone who is nice to her as a threat.

I'm also basing her trauma responses based on my own so I hope this isn't too OOC, I'm just tryna work off of what I know lol

So when you came into her life (probably introduced by Ringo because he's a cutie patootie ray of sunshine), she was more than skeptical.

It'd be rocky. You'd try to talk and she would only give short, curt answers. Much like canon Mizu.

It'd probably take a consistent half a year of talking to her for her to finally crack. Either that or you'd do something really nice for her like caring for her whilst she was sick or prepared something for her birthday or something of the likes. Either way, you'd have to really make an effort to befriend and win her over, it's more of a her problem then a you problem.

But once her initial coldness has melted away you find a pretty sincere, caring woman. She's only strict with you if she cares. If she doesn't I believe she's the kind of person who would probably just go "eh, whatever" if you did something stupid. But if she cares she'll be like "DO NOT DO THAT".

She'll realise she's in love probably while she's sick lol

Like, she'll see you helping her at her worst, holding her hair back whilst she throws up or something and be like "...oh my god".

Mizu wouldn't confess too soon after realising, she'd take her time to really think about it. Was she ready for a potential heartbreak? Was this worth it? You might find that she'll pull away a little as she thinks. It isn't intentional, but it will probably happen.

You'd probably have to confess first.

She'd secretly be elated but she wouldn't show it too much at first. Actually, she'd be hesitant to show positive emotions at all in the beginning. But as your relationship progresses she realises you aren't like Mikio. You aren't there because of some made up image of her. You're there because you love her. Not an idea of her, but herself, flaws and all.

She's gonna marry you lol.

(A/N: THAAAAT'S IT!!! Also im so sorry for taking so long with this. my gf left me and its my bday today so ive been like moping and playing sdv lmfaoooo. HAPPY NEW YEARS POOKIES <3)

#mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #i love women #wlw #i love fictional characters #mizu #mizu x reader #mizu come home the kids miss you #x reader #mizu x you #x gn y/n #gn reader #x fem!reader

226 notes · View notes

popponn · 5 months

Text

a duck, a prince, and the snow.

note: was gonna make it hcs but uh. ehe. here, smth similar for chigiri haha. this is two iq shower thought situation. warning: none, fluff, post canon/pro au, reader’s gender unspecified, undertone of morons friends to lovers, prince & duckling (affectionately).

reo loves you enough to marry you the moment you demand it. with rings, grand ceremonies, and an even grander honeymoon. but the thing is, you are way too oblivious.

reo tries everything already—praises, flirting, dressing in the way you like the most, asking you to go to your favorite places together, buy you everything, special treatment, and many more. at this point, it’s probably easier to mention what he hasn’t tried yet—with “straight up confessing” sitting at the top of the “no way not yet no chigiri no nagi no way” chart. some people actually think this is some new brand of masochism—trapping oneself in a friendzone, but most of them stop thinking about this after seeing your dynamic with him once. as in it really is that painful to watch.

in your defense, this guy is indeed generous when he wants to be. so he could give you a diamond ring and you could read it either as a bribe for something or a random gift for that tuesday. the worst thing is probably how you are so genuinely unable to think of the more romantic possibility whilst the giving party is more than okay with it. really, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart.

because you could go “oh reo you are such a good friend! let’s be friends forever!” and this guy would probably look extremely constipated for 0.1 sec then before you could see it, all you got is a doting exasperation expressed through a charming prince smile on his face. in the way that is not even “ah well too bad, but we can do it next time” smile, but an “oh, how adorable. i truly am in love with them” smile. rinse and repeat for three years and more, that’s basically how this hellish adorable loop goes. talk about a guy who is in love with every part of you—even when the part is denser than a black hole.

but, like every fairytale, this prince too deserves a proper happy ending, doesn’t he?

Under the illuminations and falling snow, you wonder why Reo chooses to be here with you, walking through the cold December night with groceries in his hands. You feel bad for telling him that you are out shopping alone now, or at the very least you should have accepted his offer to bring his limousine. It feels wrong getting him carrying your things considering everything.

“Reo,” you begin sheepishly, reaching out to tug his jacket sleeve lightly with your empty hand. "You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

Reo, somehow, looks like he takes offense to that. “Huh? Why not? I want to. Plus, just imagining you waddling like a duck with two heavy grocery bags…” Dramatically, Reo trails off with a heavy sigh. A cloud of cold breath fogs his lips for a moment, but not enough to cover up the teasing smirk that follows, “…yeah, at least I want to watch that.”

You immediately nudge his side with an angry huff, all while fruitlessly trying to step on his feet. Whilst Reo laughs with too much mirth on his face, he avoids your vengeful foot with a grace that truly belongs to a professional soccer player. Some bystanders who walk past the two of you spares some glances, but as long as they do not recognize Reo who hides his face and hair under a miraculous yet simple black cap, you feel like you couldn’t care about them.

“I shouldn’t have felt bad for you! I’m trying to be considerate to your hands getting cramps and cold, you jerk!” you hissed finally, jutting out your tongue just as an extra gesture, before adding another protest as an afterthought, “And you called me a duck for that!?”

“You are worried about me? That’s sweet!” Reo smiles in a way that is positively shit eating. Then, he nudges back to your side, an act that is pretty much imitating your previous action, yet clearly, much gentler as he lets his shoulder stay pressed to yours as the two of you continue to walk. “Come on, don’t be mad. That means I will still take care of you even when you are a duck.”

You glare half-heartedly at that. Even if this sort of conversation—idle, with worth only the two of you could understand—is not rare, you really wonder why he seems so bubbly today. With your steps and his once again falling into a synchronous rhythm, you curiously ponder out loud, “So, what happened?”

Reo tilts his head, in a manner that is subjectively cute to you. “Hm?”

“Today, what happened? You seem happy. Did something good happen in your meeting? Or your training?”

“Uh… eh? Not really, honestly. Nagi was feeling kind of down, and Isagi also seemed to be in a bad mood, Rin—the younger Itoshi, you remembered?” he pauses, looking at your reaction before continuing after your nod. “Yeah, so that guy also got really angry today. Overall, it was a mess, but nothing new. The board meeting, uh, yeah—the greedy old guys somehow get greedier today.”

“Seriously?” You wince hearing all of those. “That… sounds like a really terrible day… are you okay?”

Reo’s face shifts once again into a very smug look, which you shoot down immediately with a glare straight to his handsome face. Seeing your unamused look, the half-lidded brattish look he wears immediately crinkles to a very bright happy look, with a smile that is wide enough to turn his eyes into a pair of crescent moons. It is beautiful—you think to yourself, silently, softly.

“Nah, as I said, nothing new about that too. Plus—” Reo suddenly leans his head against yours, letting his cold cheek glue itself against your equally cold one. Nonetheless, you still squawk ungracefully. “—I got a really cute duckling worrying about me and walking with me romantically like this. I will call that it’s a winning day!”

“Really now?” you ask again, exasperated and not really understanding the meaning behind his words. It feels like you are missing something—but you can’t really put a finger on it. Paying no more mind to that thought, you continue, “So, paying for me, coming running to me, and then getting me to walk with a prince who also carries my groceries is a payback for being the cute ducking?”

“Clearly,” Reo says, familiar pride and softness lacing his tone. It makes you laugh. It’s odd, but as how being in his presence really makes you feel at ease, it does feel pleasant to hear him feeling so with just a walk with you. But, before you can let that feeling settle quietly, Reo goes on, resting his gaze on you in a manner that feels too fond and affectionate, “But, even if without all those, I will still come running to you.”

Yet again, you feel like you are missing something. There is a heat that crawls up from the inner chamber of your chest, thrumming and warm and wonderful. Dizzying and confusing, but often presents itself for Reo and Mikage Reo only.

“I… I see,” you stammer out, your voice unconsciously turning into one that is just a few notes away from a whisper.

You don’t know what Reo sees in your expression, but with it, his eyes gleam in a very tender manner. “Well, but you see,” he begins, his voice mimicking a mocking tone, “while this prince’s hand is one warmed with groceries, the other one is still very empty and cold.”

“Oh?” you muse, seeing where this is going.

Boyish and as charming as always, Reo reaches his idle hand to yours, intertwining his finger with yours. One could say it feels like a scene from a drama, one could say it feels like something written by hopeless romantics, but ultimately, to you the fact that it is Reo that makes your breath hitches. Suddenly, it is very worrying if your hands are sweaty.

Wait, are they—

“Now, the prince feels very warm,” Reo, oblivious to your predicament, states cheekily with boldness veiling his eyes.

“…the prince is a prick,” you reply, knowing your defeat. It is unusual of him to do something like this, yet there is not even an ounce of desire in you to protest.

“As long as the duckling is okay with it, is it really a problem though?” he says, leaning even closer to your face.

At some point, you know you stop breathing. And Reo realizes it.

It is probably then that the tension between the two of you suddenly closes down its curtain. Something flashes through Reo’s eyes. And before you know it, the hold he has on your hand loosened, as if giving you permission to pull away.

Then, a part of your mind says, “Who cares about the duckling and prince anymore—”

And to that sentiment, you raise an enthusiastic agree.

Because it is Reo, probably, you tightened your hold around his hand. Your hand might be sweaty, and you might not get everything that is happening—but you know enough that this feels like the right choice.

“I am,” you answer resolutely, looking away from him and facing your front instead. “I am very okay with it.”

You have no courage to peek at your friend’s—your companion’s expression. And so, you miss the way his eyes light up, realizing and catching something that you haven’t realized yet. Thus, you too don’t expect the way he tugs you into a halt, stopping your steps just a few centimeters away from his.

When you turn to him, you find Mikage Reo. His eyebrows are furrowed under his cap, his lips bitten and pouting at the some time. With redness on his cheeks, as good-looking and as princely as he has always been to you, staring at you with a seriousness that spells out determination and more.

“Can I—”

On the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by crowds who don’t recognize Mikage Reo and you, the two of you stand still. The snow continues to fall and none of you bring your gloves. In such a scene, Reo’s eyes never once left you.

“Can I tell you something?”

add. note: was it cheesy? unnecessarily so. did i lost the prompt somewhere? kinda. is it xmas? uh. what is this? uh. could it be better?...yeah i think i had fun tho <3 hope u too <3 blame jinshi and how this part came out the smoothest. also if this is in reo's pov lmao it's a mess there.

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock imagines #bllk scenarios #bllk fluff #reo fluff #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage #bllk reo #reo x reader #two idiots are not kissing under the tree. but they will someday under the xmas tree #im really nervous everytime i write for this guy idk why skskksks it's fun tho

211 notes · View notes

ghost-bxrd · 4 months

Note

Okay so I know this wasn’t the intention, but I read the most recent part of Owl Song and now I can’t stop thinking about Ivy, Jason, and Dick.

Like, in canon she fought both of them as Robin (I think??? I’m pretty sure she was around for Dick’s Robin) and she’s one of the better Rogues in terms of motive and morals. She probably cared for both of them somewhat, so how do you think she (and the other semi-decent rogues) took it when Jason died?

Ah I see how it is, we’re unpacking the good questions now!!!

So at first Ivy probably didn’t notice. Let’s be real, she’s got better things to do then play “keeping up with the batfamily”, and yeah, sure, some of her plants have been getting agitated the more days went by without sightings of either Robin or his loyal shadow (either Batman or Talon/Nightwing), but eh, maybe they’re on vacation or something.

But then Batman is back on the streets and it’s BadTM. Even simple thugs need to be hospitalized, more than one comes close to actually dying (one even flatlines for a moment) and Ivy gets suspicious. Not enough to raise any alarms just yet, still, odd. And still no sight of Robin anywhere.

And then the Joker keeps being found. All over Gotham. Her plants her agitated, they keep whispering about the child-from-the-clocktower and the-one-who-is-cold. And even Ivy can’t keep turning a blind eye.

At first she checks in with Harley, but her girlfriend she doesn’t have any insight either having just returned from a mission with the Birds of Prey (timeline? What timeline). So, dead end. And Crane is a no-go because the Bat hospitalized him with way too many broken bones just the other day.

Two-face it is, but Harvey (both sides of him) are equally as disturbed by the Bat’s sudden volatility as Ivy and he is now on board with trying to find out just what made the Bat snap.

(At this point she’s having a veeery bad feeling about this. Especially because even weeks later Robin is still suspiciously absent from the streets, and there are only whispers of Talon/Nightwing and even her plants can’t seem to pin down either of them.)

Next up is the Riddler, who is already neck-deep into investigation (because how dare Batman not appreciate all his carefully laid riddles and instead punch in faces of low time criminals! And also he may be a teeny-tiny bit worried about the sassy sidekick but SUE him, the kid grows on you like a particularly stubborn case of the pocks ok!?) and immediately agrees to a temporary ceasefire.

So now we have part of the rogue gallery joining forces to find out just wtf is going on, and their next bet is the elusive Catwoman.

And let’s say Selina doesn’t know who Batman is but she’s got soft spot for the big burry anyway so she’s CONCERNED ok? It doesn’t take much persuasion to join forces with the rest of the rag-tag group of high profile rogues to figure this out, and her next proposition is this: grill the Penguin for information.

Oswald Cobblepot is SO not prepared for the joint forces of Catwoman, Two-Face, Riddler, Harley, and Ivy and before long he’s telling them what little he knows about the Joker and his excursion to Ethiopia.

And they all just kinda— freeze. Because— what? No, Robin can’t be dead. Robin is magic. That spunky little kid who’d throw pebbles at Riddler, the one who’d always try to pick-pocket Catwoman, the one urging Harley to leave-the-Joker-he’s-an-ass, the one who always drives Harvey insane with his prime numbers, the one who’d stalked all the way into Robinson park just to ask Ivy how to save the little potted plant he’d been gifted—-

No, no he can’t be dead… right?

But he is. And the talon who’d always kept him safe? That one is gone, too. Nobody knows where he went, but Batman is unspooling, and unspooling fast. And the rogues… well, for once they keep quiet. they don’t give Batman any additional grief (god knows he’s got enough) and instead now make it a point to keep kids out of their business in silent solidarity.

From that day forward any and all people who try to associate themselves with the Joker get taken down by them with extreme prejudice. You think Batman is bad? Try spouting some Joker loving bullshit in front of Ivy. She doesn’t even have to ask her plants to gut you and hang you from the carousel at amusement mile like a Christmas ornament. And god forbid you say anything negative about Robin.

#listening to Batman audio adventures really made me appreciate Harvey #and also Catwoman #and also riddler he’s hilarious #but I have a SOFT SPOT for Ivy #always #the rogues loved Robin in their own way #at least some of them #they also hated his guts #but still #that was THEIR Robin #how dare joker take him away #and where is the talon?#owl song #ghost talks #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #bruce wayne #robin

93 notes · View notes

ye-olde-sodor · 2 months

Text

Dream Canon Mallard Headcanons!

Mallard is an LNER Class A4 built in 1938, making him one of the youngest members of the Gresley Family. (Aged 62 in this au)

He holds the world record for the Fastest Steam Locomotive in the world. On July 3rd, 1938, he reached 126 mph at just a few months old!

Mallard can be arrogant and mean, but he’s generally well mannered and generous with humans and engines alike…unless an engine dares to defy the hierarchy, then it’s an entirely different case. He's also quite the Optimist, which plays into how he views serious situations.

No one tell him that Henry "Stanier" was built with stolen Gresley blueprints, he'll have a stroke. A merge of the two families would create a nation wide scandal!

He’s in charge of his own Engine Correctional Facility on the Mainland, and has 17 other facilities just like it across the UK!

This idea of correctional facilities came to him sometime after he learned of the scrapping of most of his siblings (save for Spencer and a few others). He was grief stricken, and clung to the first thing that brought him any feelings that weren’t grief and dread.

He noticed that him and a select few of his siblings were preserved because they either performed better than the rest, broke a record, had some major historic significance, or were purchased by foreign railways. It’s the first example that became Mallard’s obsession.

He wanted to give all engines another chance at life. He wanted to see if he could mold an engine to be better than their other siblings, and have them preserved. When the trial of this idea succeeded with Ryan (who was unaware of the trial and assumed he was preserved due to his ties with the other Gresleys), Mallard found his new purpose in life, his spiritual awakening one might say. He’s been operating his correctional facilities ever since.

While he has the best intentions in mind, he’s oblivious to the harm his methods of teaching may cause. He can also be full of himself when he’s convicted he’s right.

His main goal is to expand his facilities to Sodor, the bane of British Rail and to the Engine Hierarchy. He wishes to purchase it and reshape it in his own image. Mallard won’t modernize it, but he wants to bring order and essentially remove what makes Sodor stand out from other heritage lines…it’s numerous accidents and ties to the Reverend Awdry.

He's extremely close to Ryan, who he views as a son. Spencer is a close second, however. While he cares for Scott and Gordon as well, he can't let Scott's "death" get in the way of progress. He'll mourn in secret, not in public. It's the professional way to do it.

As one can probably tell, Mallard sees opportunity in everything, even in death and depression. He's an optimist by nature, and always tries to see the good in everything. Case in point, now that Mallard has part of Scott's inheritance and Gordon doesn't want to work anymore, Mallard has the perfect opportunity to go through with his Sodor Renovation plan!

When Mallard learned that Gordon was struggling to cope with the loss, he offered to take him to the Mainland to get him closer to professionals who can help him.

Spencer became roped into Mallard's scheme, but Spencer isn't too keen on the idea just like everyone else.

Thomas quickly became Mallard's "moral enemy" due to his Anti-hierarchy views. Once Mallard has control over the island's engines, Thomas will be the first one admitted to Mallard's Correctional facility. He's hoping that Ryan can whip him into shape, as he plans to have Ryan run the Sodor facility in the future.

Quotes:

Mallard: "Gordon, my dear brother-"

Gordon: "We're cousins."

Mallard: "Gordon, my dear cousin-" ____________________________________________

Mallard: "So Spencer, how's the island?"

Spencer: "Depressed, demoralized...on the brink of collapse now that Gordon got replaced by those three diesels!"

Mallard: "Oh is it now?~"

Spencer: "Please don't talk like that again-"

Mallard: "Do tell me more about Sodor's, eh...run of bad luck."

____________________________________________

Mallard: “Well look on the bright side…once you feel ready, we can return to Sodor and I get to introduce you to all the new changes I’ve made! :)”

Gordon, half listening: I suppose you’re right-wait WHAT ALL DID YOU CHANGE???”

Mallard: “Secret :3”

____________________________________________

Mallard: "So we're going to put the new Correction Facility over...Oh I don't know where to place it! Spencer, you know the island well, where would be the most optimal location for it?"

Spencer: "I wouldn't say I know it well...but if you're serious about this facility of yours, I'd place it somewhere along the Express route. There's some land near Vicarstown that's unoccupied. It'll be right next to a large yard and station for engines to train. Plus it'll be in close proximity to the Dieselworks."

Mallard: "There's a Dieselworks?! On Sodor?"

Spencer: "Calling it a Works is a bit of a stretch but yes, there is one. It's in complete disrepair though. It's any wonder those diesels despise Topham and our fellow steam engines"

Mallard: "Hmm. Good to know..."

____________________________________________

Mallard: "Y'know, I've been digging into your class lately in order to-"

Thomas: "The Hell?! What are you doing that for, you creep!"

Mallard: "...To better accommodate my courses and lessons to your class, since I've been told you're quite the water hog."

Thomas: "Oh you miserable-"

Mallard: "I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU, YOU TWIT."

____________________________________________

Edward: "We'll lose everything! Sodor's culture, it's heritage, and it's railways. You'll destroy everything that Sodor stands for if you go through with your plan!"

Mallard: "Ah, so my plan will work! What wonderful news! Now we can get started on making a new Sodor!"

Edward: ಠ_ಠ

Mallard: "One with our beloved hierarchy, no confusion or delay, and more attention to the poor and neglected diesels!"

Diesel 10: "Hell yeah! Finally, a Steamer who gets it!"

Edward: "He's using you to push his own agenda you twit! He'll forget about you once he-"

Mallard: "Step right up then, my fellow machine! Show me around the Diesel Works so I can make arrangements to give it a complete overhaul!"

Diesel 10: "Gladly Mr. eh...Mallard was it?"

Edward, under his breath: "Oh you can fuck right off..."

#ttte #ttte au #ttte dc au #ttte mallard #ttte diesel 10 #ttte edward #ttte thomas #ttte spencer #ttte ryan #ttte scotsman #ttte gordon

35 notes · View notes

badbatchposts · 1 month

Text

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 3

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (not for a few chapters still), Canon-Typical Violence

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2

Chapter 3 summary: The mysterious woman rescued by Crosshair comes to on the Marauder. Rather than interrogate why he decided to save her, Crosshair decides to antagonize her, because that's who he is.

“Hey, hey. Easy now.” Hunter appeased the woman like a wounded animal, crouching to her level, hands held out carefully in front of him. Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“I hardly think she needs consoling,” he intoned sibilantly. “She did take out four troopers on her own.”

“That you know of,” the woman muttered under her breath. “Where’s my gear?” she demanded, shifting herself into a seated position.

“Careful there. Hang on just a minute,” Hunter continued. Crosshair could barely stand it when Hunter was like this; gentle, cajoling, infantilizing. He didn’t see why the woman ought to be treated with kid gloves. “You’re hurt pretty bad,” the Sergeant continued. “Just rest up, and we can help you out. What’s your name?”

“Who’s asking?” The woman was defensive, distrustful. As she scanned the Marauder, Crosshair felt like he could see the gears turning behind her eyes, sizing them up. Wondering what she had gotten herself into, and how she could get herself out of it.

“I’m Hunter. That’s Tech, Echo, Wrecker, and Crosshair. We’re not going to hurt you. Crosshair said Imperials were after you, so he took you back to our ship.”

Tech, the most direct among them—with the possible exception of the sniper himself—got straight to the point. “How did you find yourself out there?”

The woman eased up a bit, but continued to be less-than-forthcoming. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The squad looked at one another. “We weren’t the ones crash-landing in a stolen shuttle,” Echo pointed out.

This time, the woman remained silent.

Hunter decided to take a different tactic, easing up on the interrogation. “Not too chatty, eh?” He chuckled.

“I’m sure I could find a way to get her to talk,” Crosshair interrupted suggestively, earning him a stern glance from his brother.

Hunter turned back to her. “Ignore him. Look, we get it. We’re not exactly friends of the Empire, either, and you never know who to trust. We’re on our way to Ord Mantell. It’s going to be a few hours, but there’s a spaceport there. Take some time to recover, and then you can be on your way.” He exited, taking the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit alongside Echo.

Tech reached for her leg to continue treating her injuries, but the woman shrank back. He regarded her seriously from behind his goggles. “Your recovery will be significantly longer if you do not receive treatment,” he observed pointedly.

“Fine,” the woman grumbled, allowing him to take her leg into his hands and begin again. The blaster looked to have only grazed her calf, and soon Tech was sitting back.

“Please remove the clothing over your torso. I need to examine and wrap your ribs,” he requested politely. Crosshair raised an eyebrow, waiting to see the woman’s reaction. She began peeling off her poncho, unbuckling her holsters, finally unbuttoning her shirt to reveal a cropped band beneath, which exposed the flesh of her ribs and belly. She moved slowly, but not self-consciously, caring less about undressing in front of the men than about minimizing the pain. Crosshair took it in, his eyes raking over the fine line of her collarbone, the sweat dripping down to disappear between her breasts, her winces, the soft curves of her hip, the purple bruising that bloomed all over her torso. He noticed a small tattoo on her ribs, but the discoloration was too extreme for him to make out what it was. A puckering of the skin on her abdomen just to the right of her belly button provided evidence of earlier wounds, and he wondered hungrily what the scar would feel like under his fingertips. When he met her eyes, she was glaring; he returned the gaze with a raised brow, amused.

Her anger flickered, interrupted briefly by pain as Tech undertook his work. “What’s your problem?” she demanded.

“Just enjoying the show.”

“Please do not antagonize her, Crosshair,” his brother admonished. The sniper smirked, thinking that he wasn’t the only one a little bit pleased; Tech’s fingers seemed, to him, like they were dwelling a little unnecessarily long against the woman’s skin as he tucked the bandages into place.

A moment later, he was looking down the barrel of Tech’s sidearm. The woman had taken advantage of his brother’s focus on her injuries to unholster it from his hip. “Say that again,” she warned. She had a steely edge to her voice that thrilled him. He only smirked wider. The rest of the squad had already raised their own weapons in turn, a series of metallic clicks echoing from their various positions around the ship indicating that she was outnumbered. She lowered the blaster, slowly, and tossed it to the floor.

Tech retrieved it and stood, unbothered, as the rest of the squad returned to their tasks. This was not the first passenger aboard the Marauder to pull a gun on one of them, and the sniper deserved it a little. “Crosshair, she has a concussion. Keep her awake.”

“Oh, goody,” came his reply as his brother left them to it.

The woman pressed a palm to her forehead before running her hand through her long, silvery hair. There were some leaves tangled in it. He wondered idly if she’d try to break his fingers if he reached over and plucked them out. “Can I at least have my pack?” She sounded more exhausted than defeated, like she had simply run out of the energy to sustain herself.

Crosshair pulled her pack from the shelf where it had been stored behind him, rolling his toothpick between his lips from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Anything… dangerous… in here I should know about?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

“Dangerous?” Between the pain and exhaustion, the woman almost looked amused. “Not me. I avoid danger. Just trying to make a life in a nice, quiet corner of the galaxy.”

“I’m sure the hijacked Imperial shuttle was all a misunderstanding, then.” He glanced through the contents of her pack, removing a few knives before returning it to her. She didn’t take the bait, busying herself instead with dumping some of the contents of a leather pouch—what appeared to be dried leaves, giving off a grassy, bitter smell—into a mug that looked to be made out of a hollowed gourd. She heated a thermos of water with an auto-camp kit, poured some into the mug, and finally sipped the beverage through a filtered metal straw, leaning back against the wall with a sigh.

“Habit I picked up on Endor,” she replied to Crosshair’s raised eyebrow.

Tech was evidently still listening from the cockpit, nosy about their passenger. “There is no civilization on Endor,” he countered. “It is inhabited only by hostile primitives.”

“I’ve seen how civilization is defined in the Galactic Empire. I prefer to spend my time with the primitives.” Her tone was mostly even, but the sniper thought he heard traces of venom in her words.

Crosshair decided to take this cue to restart the interrogation. “Is that little… ideological disagreement… how you ended up shot?” She sipped at her tea impassively, meeting his eyes but refusing to take the bait again. He would have to go on needling her to get the reaction he wanted, poking and prodding to find the limits of her self-control.

He had liked that steely edge earlier, but that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. Nor did he care about the determination—what had been on her face as she dove behind cover and exchanged fire with the troopers, what was still detectable in her expression now as she tamped down her emotions, waiting to reveal her hand until she could thoroughly evaluate the strangers she found herself at the mercy of.

What he wanted was to draw out the woman she’d shown him before she’d known he was watching through his scope: the rage, the frustration. The despair. The pain. And yes, that gentle glimmer on her face when she’d thought she was at her end, meeting her death not with fear, but the certainty—perhaps, even, the hope—that it had come time to let go. The real reason, which he would never tell his brothers, that he had decided not to let them kill her.

End Note: How many times do you think someone has pulled a gun on Crosshair because he was being a little shit? It feels like probably a lot.

#bad batch #clone force 99 #star wars #the bad batch #clone wars fanfiction #tbb season 3 #tbb hunter #clone trooper tech #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb fanfiction

28 notes · View notes

sheegons · 1 month

Note

would de-aging damian be possible in future comics and would uou support it

Would it possible? most likely not. Tim only got de-aged by 1 whole year due to the entire universe being reset and jon, even with extreme backlash, still hasn't gotten de-aged then i don't think Damian will.

okay, now let's work with the hypothetical that he does get de-aged, would i like it? depends. I'm going to be bold here and say that damian being ten from 2006-2016? good enough. my goal age for him at the stage would be twelve or eleven at a stretch (not that I'm against him being fourteen currently, i really don't care. any damian content is fine with me) i just feel this is what we would realistically have if damian wasn't thirteen for the sake of him being included in the TEEN titans book. (and boy did that one suck)

Damian being fourteen specifically is probably only for him to enter high school. I feel that yields more writing opportunities than being a middle schooler but, again, this kid is a polyglot who can build cars and worked out wayne finances by himself at ten (IN HIS CIVILIAN IDENTITY, MIND YOU)

So you could make a good case for damian just skipping a few grades.

Do i feel this is needed? No. Absolutely not. Damian is fine as is, i just feel this would be a slight improvement to how Damian has been ageing so rapidly compared to his family. some are even saying he's fifteen now, meaning the difference between infinite frontier tim and damian is one year when it used to be seven (thank you tim for being my favourite age comparison toolbut just know he's about the only one who i know the confirmed age of from memory.) i think jason is between 21/22 and dick 25~ in current canon, meaning damians age gap with jason right now is now about the same as damians age gap with tim when he joined the family.

After all that, do i genuinely want damian to be aged down? eh. i, again, don't really care either way. I just like talking and Damian's age is a very constant conversation topic so i just had thoughts.

#damian wayne #dc comics #damian al ghul #damian robin #dc #dc robin #robin damian #batfamily #batfam #batman

26 notes · View notes

scalproie · 8 months

Text

there is something really weird in mk12 about the disconnect between kuai liang and his role as scorpion

He is called feisty. Raiden goes to him so he can help him "stoke the fire" of rage. Such traits you expect from good old scorpion, as he should be and IS the angry revenge-driven fire wraith/ninja/whatever

But if you ignore all that's said and actually look at kuai liang... he is not angry or rageful, and couldnt be any less feisty, the only thing feisty about him is his ability to control flames. He is not revenge-driven, even after being scarred physically and emotionally by bi-han, he doesnt kill him, he knocks him out and carries him away so he cant help out the deadly alliance, all in a logical manner (but also its so unemotional on his part Im willing to bet it's not even smth the writers planned to write him as, it just happened bc they didnt know how to write him in a compelling way). He is rational and patient, you could even call him passive and reactionary. That's not scorpion-like, whose impulsiveness has been an established part of his character for quite a while now, that's more like sub zero. Because for the better part of 30 years, kuai liang has been sub zero

edit: after careful re-watch, my former point no really longer stand, he did very much try to kill bi-han after the reveal he let their father die. But even then, if I may... that vengeance streak doesnt really last long now does it?

I know bi-han being back as the main carrier of the sub zero mantle has rekindled some debates over who the best sub zero is between the two brothers but that just goes to show: BOTH are sub zero.

So having a sub zero being casted in the role scorpion, as both characters are POLAR (eh) OPPOSITES of each other, you end up with a weird hybrid in the middle who is neither one nor the other. In the previous timelines, scorpion starts things, kuai liang reacts as either tundra or sub zero.

Kuai liang took pride in being lin kuei, he's been called the redeemer by previous games and that's really what he is! He fights FOR the lin kuei and steers it into the right direction. Here in mk12 he just... leaves the clan. As soon as it goes toward evil. He wants to restore its honor but he leaves it to be corrupted in the first place. He doesnt fight for it to stay good. It almost reads as if he has no pride for it if he's ready to let its name be tarnished so easily after YEARS of tradition and services toward the forces of good. Did he had no ideals for the clan growing up? Did his father always hyped up bi-han as the next grandmaster? Then why didnt kuai liang also had absolute loyalty for his brother no matter what his decisions are?

No he goes to make a new clan, and why? Well that's only because scorpion is not associated with the lin kuei, but the shirai ryu. In fact, everything that happens to kuai liang doesnt happen because of who kuai liang is, it happens because IT HAS to happen because he's scorpion.

As much as the writers (through liu kang) tells us that "in this new timeline, everyone can choose their destiny" in the opening, kuai liang's character is shackled by being scorpion. If he didnt had to follow the Scorpion Staples(tm) of being a shirai ryu grandmaster married to harumi, he wouldnt abandon his clan and get with harumi (a character he never had history with once, and no, his ending telling us that they were "childhood friends" doesnt count. It feels extremely forced and comes from nowhere) to form a new clan when he could just fight his brother for the legacy and pride of the clan in the first place.

BESIDES. If harumi already had a clan she was the grandmaster of, why did kuai liang renamed it to something else instead? What was that clan's name that kuai, an outsider, decided to overwrite? It makes it look like he married her for influence and the power to go toe-to-toe against bi-han and his lin kuei. But hey. Its okay because he named it after harumi's new last name that cannot possibly work in the canon where she's with hanzo because there, the shirai ryu has been around for hundred of years before her.

Listen, I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt for Kuai!Scorpion, hell I even called out the lin kuei/shirai ryu rift happening at one point bc it was SO OBVIOUSLY happening. But now that it's out and I see how they handled it. Man I really really REALLY dont like how easily you can see the seams of this narrative, and how clearly it makes everything related to it worse.

#anyway yeah now i can safely say: it wasnt meant to work #and fucking hell I HOPE he gets an identity crisis at one point because I DO NOT LIKE this chimera of kuai liang and scorpion walking aroun #tagging later #mortal kombat #mk spoilers #scorpion #sub zero #thats not all I even want to say I think

57 notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 3 months

Text

Good Omens Fic Rec: stalwart sun, wily moon

Anthony J. Crowley is a world-class art thief with a complicated past who, until now, had been pretty content with going through life as part of a prolific black market art trafficking ring. He enjoyed the thrill and danger of the hunt, especially if it meant he got to travel the world, play with state-of-the-art technology, and make enough money to afford anything he could ever want. That is, until a simple logistical hiccup leads him straight into the path of one Aziraphale Fell, former Head Conservator of the British Museum turned antique repair shop owner. Suddenly, there's a space in Crowley's life that only Aziraphale seems to fill, but his clandestine life of crime paired with Aziraphale's industry connections and indomitable penchant for good seems like a relationship doomed to fail. Little do they both know, the strands of friendship, morality, and deception in their shared circles of the London art world are interwoven in even more complex ways than either of them could have expected...

Length: 369,866 words

AO3 Rating: Mature

Best for: Safe in Public, Slow Burn, Human AU

Triggers: Past Abuse, Violence

Read it here, fic by dustnhalos

Note: this is a locked work you must be logged into AO3 to view

*Minor Spoilers* This one was recommended to me by @aq-uatic! I had just posted about Fakes and Forgeries, which is another art thief AU, so they sent this one over for me to read! This story is a powerhouse! Not only does it boast a very engaging plot, but it is also well-researched and well-planned! A true epic.

The length of this story is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I loved the rich details and care put into the descriptions of artworks and settings, making it very easy to immerse myself in the world. I was also grateful that the climax of the story unfolded slowly, without rushing through towards the end. Having details gradually presented made the payoffs even greater. On the other hand, sometimes it became a little too wordy for its own good, crossing a line where it started to feel like a Wikipedia page. Additionally, it wasn't the right time and place for me when I tried reading it in shorter increments during breaks between working and cleaning. I was getting frustrated by the slow plot progression in those 20-30 minute spans. Once I committed to only reading this in larger blocks of time, I had a lot more fun with it! (ironic note to make on an extremely wordy rec post eh?)

I particularly loved the characterizations in this one. I found all of the side characters to be excellently written and, more importantly, welcome. There was never a moment when I felt annoyed by the appearance of a side character. The relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley is integral, but their plot line isn't the only one worth reading. Canon characters are conveniently rewritten into their new places, but don't just feel like names attached to OCs. Deep down, they remain the characters we know, just with new backstories. Warlock was a particular favorite of mine. Speaking of OCs, they're great here! I was very intrigued by the new characters, and their histories to our characters. Crowley's backstory was heartbreaking, and I loved the mystery of putting all the pieces together.

One small note I'll make about Aziraphale and Crowley: my favorite detail of their relationship in this story was their passion for fashion. It's refreshing to see Aziraphale described as fashionable rather than merely 'old-fashioned'. He possesses his own sense of style and takes great pride in it, which was very much appreciated. The fact that they can keep up with each other in style, knowledge, and culture, was so enjoyable.

Safe in public, but keep in mind what I said about pacing. Maybe shorter blocks work for you, but for me I really needed those longer sessions with this. It's also written as ace friendly! The mature tag is for violence/themes there is no sexual content here. Oh and this features amazing artwork as well!! I actually recognized many of the pieces included and had no idea they were tied to this story! I really enjoyed this story, and I'm constantly impressed with the stories you guys come up with.

Read it here, fic by dustnhalos

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic rec #aziracrow #good omens fic rec #aziraphale x crowley #stalwart sun wily moon #dustnhalos #extra long #no spice #slow burn #human au #safe in public #criminal au #artist au #one sitting #antique au #ace friendly

19 notes · View notes

miraculousdeservesbetter2024 · 10 months

Text

My preference headcanons for every MLB character! (🌈 Happy Pride Month 🌈)

Note: These are MY personal preference headcanons for the characters. Take it with a grain of salt. Our opinions are allowed to differ, but please respect mine and I’ll respect yours.

Marinette: Bi, Female Leaning. I see her going both ways, but the reason why I see her female leaning is:

I personally just like that idea! ❤️

It seems that she’s more comfortable with girls than boys (I know that doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s attracted to girls, but eh. Still like the idea).

Her crush on Adrien seems comphet to me (yes, that can happen to Bi people too).

She can be that “preppy queer” archetype.

Adrien: Pan. I was THIS close to making Adrien Bi (female leaning), but I settled with him being Pan. Why? For the sole reason that I see Chat Noir as Pan (and Adrien IS Chat Noir lol). It makes sense 😄 I’m also starting to see him as Gender-fluid.

Alya: Bi, Female Leaning. Listen, I ALWAYS saw Alya into girls, even before her and Nino got together in Animan to be honest with you. But according to canon, it seems like she’s even Straight or Bi, since she’s shown attraction to boys. I mean, she COULD be a comphet Lesbian, but meh. I don’t want to erase the possibility of her being Bi because of her attraction to boys too. We need more Bi rep. 😜 So basically, I now see her as Bi, but female leaning. She prefers girls, but Nino is a sweetie pie 😊

Nino: Bi, female leaning. Nino prefers girls more, but he doesn’t mind dudes either 😉 I actually ship him and Adrien together. If it wasn’t for the love square and DJWifi, I think Nindrien would’ve been more popular.

Chloe: Closest Bi, comphet. Some people might see her as token Straight or a closest Lesbian, but I’ve finally decided that she likes both genders equally. Similar with Marinette, I just see her crush on Adrien as heteronormativity/comphet and also because she’s confusing her plantonic love for him with romantic.

Zoe: Queer. Tbh, I don't know right now. We don't know if she's gay, Bi or anything else, but we DO know that she's queer. She hasn’t shown any interest in boys in canon yet, but I don’t want to throw out the possibility of her being Bi/Pan yet either.

Sabrina: Closest Pan. Sabrina is the type who thought that she was just an Straight Ally who doesn’t care who’s with who when it came to other peoples’s happiness. Love is love after all. Eventually she finds out that SHE HERSELF doesn’t care either when it comes to HER preferences lol 😂

Luka: Bi, simple but obvious 😌

Kagami: Pan & Demi. Use to see her as Bi (female leaning), but she doesn’t care as long as she can have a strong connection with them. I also see her as a Polyamorous Demi. She’s fine with being in a relationship with more than one person, but only if she has a strong connection with them. When you think about it, I guess that kind of makes Mari and Adrien Polyamorous too since Adrigaminette is my OTP3 huh? 😅

Rose: Pan. Rose loves everybody and anybody. She doesn’t care who it is 😊

Jeluka: Lesbian. I don’t really see Jeluka with any males and I don’t think that I ever did. She’s my little goth Lesbean! 😊

Kim: Bi. He’s perfectly fine with both, as long as he’s having fun 😄

Max: Biromantic Ace, Male Leaning, use to see him as Pan, but I see him more as male leaning now. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t mind girls though. Ones who are kind, sweet or/and match his intellect 😊

Ordine: Straight. Meh, I don’t really see her with females 🤷🏾‍♀️ Ordine ships like Kagami, Alix and Aurore etc. don’t interest me. Might change in the future, but I don’t know.

Mylene: Bi & Demi (male leaning). Her and Ivan together are pretty cute, and I don’t put it pass her to be interested in other boys too. But she is queer.

Ivan: Straight. Ivan was the first character in MLB that I saw as Straight lol

Nathaniel: Bi. I don’t ship him with anyone anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a bi-bean to me 😛 I’m pretty sure he’ll find someone one day.

Marc: Gay, Trans, and Gender-fluid. I don’t really see Marc with girls anymore, so he’s gay now 😛 Also, I know he’s already Androgynous, but I also see him as Trans & Gender-fluid.

Alix: Aromatic Lesbian & Bigender. Like with Max (Ace), Alix was confirmed Aromatic, but I still do see her as a Lesbian. I don’t really imagine Alix being in an long term relationship, but she is interested in females. I did headcanon her Bi in the past, but I don’t really see her interested in any boys anymore tbh

Lila: Pan. She doesn’t care who it is, as long as she can manipulate them to her advantage…🤷‍♀️ Don’t get me wrong though, I do imagine Lila being capable of love and falling for someone, but not immediately.

Aurore: Lesbian (Comphet). I don’t ship her with any boys at all, and all my ships with her are with girls.

Mirelle: Bi (Comphet). Similar with Aurore. Also, I also ship them on the same level as Julrose.

Gabriel: Straight, but I don’t like the idea of him being the stereotypical homophobic parent. He’s a shitty person and parent, but it’s not because he’s homophobic. I did see him as bicurious in the past tho lol

Emillie: Bi. Meh, she gives off that kind of energy, even if she’s been in a coma 😜

Natalie: Bi. I like the headcanon that she’s a Bi woman who had feelings for Emillie too, as well as Gabriel (formally). I don’t know how true that is now, but meh. Still my headcanon.

Ms Mendeleiev: Lesbian. I see her being into women solely for the reason that I shipped her with Bustier lol 😅

Miss Bustier: Bi, but now just Queer. Similar with Zoe, we don't know if she's gay, Bi or anything else, but we DO know that she's queer/sapphic.

Socqueline: Queer/Sapphic. We most certainly know she’s into girls, especially cute preppy ones that so happen to attend the same school that she use to attend, sees her as a role model to the point where she adapted her hairstyle, is into fashion, works at her parents bakery and unfortunately tends to have crushes on boys who are dum-dums instead of also acknowledging her obvious attraction to girls! 😤

..Wait wha-?

Fei: Lesbian. Plain and simple. Makes sense.

Felix: Like Zoe, I’m not absolutely sure yet. But I do see him being part of the Ace Spectrum.

The other characters I don’t really care about enough to have preference headcanons for. So if you want to know my preference headcanon about them, ask me.

55 notes · View notes

sergeantsporks · 1 day

Text

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 38.5/39: Closure

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36, Ch 37, Ch 38

An alternate universe in which Evelyn managed to save Caleb after his confrontation with Phillip. The two of them escaped to present day through time pools, and have been using time pools to secretly rescue grimwalkers just after Belos attempts to kill them. The story follows Darius' mentor as he adjusts to his new life, as well as changes to the course of canon.

Ao3

“You’ve been putting weight on this fracture.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re going to stop doing that.”

“Got it.”

The healer—Phoenix hadn’t caught their name—shook their head. “I mean it. It won’t heal, and you could make it worse—it looks like you broke it two different ways and then used a slitherbeast’s bite to wrench it back into place.”

Phoenix winced. That would be the Collector’s attempt to ‘fix’ the break. “Sorry.”

“And—look, this may be none of my business, but there’s a weird block-up of excess magic in your arms; you might want to consider seeing a specialist. And an apothecary.”

“Yep. Aware of it. Okay. Thanks.”

The healer picked up the remains of Viney’s cast, examining the crack from Belos’ kick with a whistle. “What have you been up to?

“Eh. You know. The apocalypse.”

The whole family had made a pact not to mention Belos to anyone outside of the family or Darius for now—as far as anyone else was concerned, Luz had killed Belos, and that was that. Phoenix was almost certain that there would be ‘Belos’ sightings across the isles for some time, and he didn’t intend on adding any credibility to the notion that Belos could have escaped Luz.

“Haven’t we all. Well, nothing life-threatening. You’re cleared. See a healer again in a week for that ankle and to check the concussion, use the crutches, take it easy.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You’re welcome”

Another healer shot into the room, breathing heavily. “You get to do the one next door.”

“What? I thought you were taking care of him?”

“Not anymore. I like living too much.”

“Well, that sounds promising.”

Phoenix followed the healer out of the room, swinging on a new set of crutches. The moment the healer opened the next door, an abomination-themed paperweight came sailing out, nearly beaning them on the head.

“Stay away,” Petro wheezed, “I’ll kill you.”

“They’re here to help,” Phoenix told him, “They’re not going to hurt you.”

“Like I trust you either.”

“Friendly, isn’t he?” the healer commented dryly.

“Very. Petro, I didn’t drag you all the way here just to kill you now. They’re just a healer.”

“Coven healer?”

“Does it matter anymore?”

“It matters,” Petro wheezed through gritted teeth, “because which they are determines whether or not they might have motive to kill me.” He thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure which kind would be more likely.”

“I don’t even know who you are?” The healer pushed into the room, holding their hands up in surrender. “Look. You’re in bad shape. I can either heal you now, while you’re conscious and can keep an eye on me, or I can wait until you pass out anyway and you won’t have any knowledge of what I’m up to. So which is it going to be?”

Petro glared, but didn’t throw anything else and let the healer get close enough to begin their magic. Phoenix heaved a sigh of relief and wandered back down the hall. Darius poked halfway out of a closet, pulling out blankets and towels, but he straightened up when Phoenix approached.

“Ah. Hello. I see the healers got to you.”

“They did.”

“How are you feeling? It seems like you look worse every time I see you.”

Phoenix shrugged. “I’ll survive. Look, Darius—I owe you an explanation. Besides disappearing on you, about what just happened—”

“Well—perhaps it can wait until tomorrow morning. I’m sure you need your rest, and we should get your quite extensive family settled in, of course, and—”

“Darius, are you avoiding me?”

Darius chuckled nervously. “What? Of course I’m not. I haven’t been looking for answers for thirty years just to avoid them now.”

“Are you sure?” Phoenix pressed, “I mean, you didn’t seem too concerned when I ran off after Jason—”

“You seemed distressed, I didn’t want to keep you in such a state—”

“—and now you won’t let me tell you what happened again,” Phoenix continued over him, “Are you avoiding me?”

Darius had always been bad at lying to him. A stellar actor most of the time, but absolutely horrendous when it came to fooling Phoenix. That was one thing that hadn’t changed over the years. It almost made Phoenix laugh—a grown man now twenty years his senior studiously avoiding his eyes like he was still a teenager.

“I’m not avoiding you. But are you sure you’re ready to tell me?”

“I’ve only been thinking of a way to do it for…” Phoenix tried to tally up how long it had been since he’d woken up in this time, then gave up. “…a while. Darius, I know you’re not avoiding it for my sake."

"I just think right now isn’t a good time.” Darius finished pulling blankets out of the closet and shut the door abruptly. “Tomorrow.”

“And what if something new comes up tomorrow? Darius, I’ve put this off for so long, I want to—”

“If you’ve been putting it off for so long, then it can wait another day. Hunter—” Darius locked up, inhaled, and released his breath in one long sigh. “Phoenix. Can we just leave it?”

“Are you scared it won’t be good enough?”

The words escaped Phoenix before he could really think it through, and the simple question made Darius freeze again.

“Excuse me?”

“This whole time—Darius, I’ve been worried that any apology, any explanation I could give wouldn’t be good enough. I was scared that you’d hear what I had to say and decide it wasn’t any excuse for not contacting you. That you’d hate me for it. But that… it works both ways, doesn’t it?” Phoenix took a deep breath. “You’ve spent years wondering where I’d gone, wondering what happened to me. And now I’ve showed up again out of the blue. Are you… are you scared that when I tell you what happened… it’ll feel like I just didn’t care enough? That it will feel like there was no real reason for me to not contact you, and I just didn’t want to?”

Darius chuckled hollowly. “Well, what am I supposed to say to that, hm?” He shook his head. “You’ve changed, Phoenix. The name, the scars—that’s nothing. There was a time when you would have had your tongue ripped out before you’d disclose all that to me; the Phoenix I knew took a day of coaxing before he’d ever begin admit something was wrong. But then—I guess you weren’t really Phoenix then, were you?”

“No,” Phoenix agreed, “I wasn’t.”

“What if we’ve changed too much?” Darius gave Phoenix a small, sad half-smile. “That explanation might be the only thing left between us—the last thing we say to each other before we find closure and move on in our new lives. Perhaps it’ll be good enough. Perhaps it won’t. Perhaps it won’t matter how good or bad it is because either way, we’ll simply drift apart.”

Dread settled in Phoenix’s stomach. Of course that was always a possibility—but it wasn’t one he wanted to accept. “Maybe.” Phoenix searched for the right words to say, allowing a heavy silence to creep between them. “Maybe,” he said again finally, “You’re right. That might happen. But even if it does, even if we drift apart… Darius, I will never stop caring about you. And I don’t think you’ll stop caring about me, either.”

“Never.” Darius took a deep breath. “I’m ready,” he said abruptly, “I want to know—and I want to know all of it.”

“To the last thing left unfinished between us,” Phoenix agreed. He cleared his throat, trying to decide the best place to begin. “When I disappeared—well, it actually started weeks before, when I found some old records concerning the fates of previous golden guards…”

Xxx

You were always going to fail them, too.

Phoenix snapped awake, the vestiges of a fuzzy nightmare still making his heart work overtime. He stared up at the ceiling, surrounded by the snores of other grimwalkers. It was just a dream.

He tried to rub his eyes, but his arms wouldn’t move, dissolved into a mess of mud that would stain the blankets if he let it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the darkness, “We’re okay.”

In time with his slowing heartbeat, his arms settled back to their normal state, and he rolled out of his blankets, snatching up his crutches and quietly hobbling out into the hallway. His joints ached. His bones felt stretched and thin inside of him.

But at least they were his.

He wandered into the kitchen. Jason sat at the table, staring blankly at his hands, but he looked up when Phoenix dropped into the seat next to him.

“It’s over,” Jason whispered, “It’s really, really over this time.”

“He’s gone,” Phoenix agreed.

Jason trembled and fell into Phoenix, burying his face in Phoenix’s shoulder. “It’s over,” he repeated, “It’s over, it’s over it’s over.”

Phoenix gripped him tightly, holding him close. “We’re safe now. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

“He’s finally gone,” Jason whispered, “We’re finally—he’s finally—it’s over.” He pulled back, eyes shining. “I don’t have to go with him. I don’t have to talk to him again, I don’t have to…”

“Never again, thanks to you and Mole.”

“Well—hey, you were part of it, too.”

Phoenix looked away, guilt bubbling up in his stomach. “I didn’t do anything.” His hands curled into shaking fists. “I tried. I really did, but I couldn’t beat him. He still got the better of me. After everything—the curse, getting out of his hold… I was still useless.”

“You saved Hunter’s life,” Jason said quietly, “I don’t think that’s useless.”

“I couldn’t stop him.” Phoenix’s hands opened and closed helplessly. “I was so close, Jason, but I still couldn’t…”

“Hey.” Jason tilted his head, ducking down so that he was looking Phoenix in the eye. “You fought fair. Belos didn’t—that kick was a dirty move. You would have won in a straight fight.”

“It was never going to be a straightforward fight with Belos,” Phoenix replied bitterly, “I should have known that. I shouldn’t have tried to fight like it would be.”

“What, and stoop to his level? I’m glad you didn’t.” Jason’s hand closed over his own. “Phoenix. Hey. Mole and I wouldn’t have been able to get into position without your attack. Hunter kept everyone from getting hurt when the glyphs stopped working. The others made sure Belos didn’t possess Petro again so you could face him head on. And without Petro, we wouldn’t have been able to trick Belos and get Mom and everybody free. This only worked because we all played a part—so what if you didn’t beat him all on your own? Neither did any of the others, and they attacked him all at once with a bunch of glyphs! I mean, hey, you went after Belos all by yourself, and you made it out with nothing but a concussion? Pretty good considering the results of our past attempts.”

A smile worked its way onto Phoenix’s face, disappearing just as quickly. “I guess.”

“He can’t hurt us again. That’s all that really matters—we don’t need to worry about who did what, or who helped the most.”

“I know, I know,” Phoenix grumbled, “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right.” Jason gave him a cheeky grin. “Forget about him. He ruled enough of our lives—I don’t want to think about him a second longer than I have to. How did things go with Darius?”

And just like that, any sense of calm Jason’s reassurances had brought melted right back into a seething pit of anxiety. “Fine, I think? I mean… he seemed to understand what happened and why I couldn’t get back in touch with him.”

“But?” Jason prompted.

“But…” Phoenix took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Do you think he’s angry I didn’t tell him when Belos surfaced again? I mean, I’d just promised to tell him everything, and then I hid an incredibly big and dangerous thing—even though I had a reason, that’s got to sting. I’d be mad at me.”

“You could always ask,” Jason suggested, “Can’t hurt.”

“Hm.” Maybe, but if what Darius had said earlier—about how Phoenix had used to keep everything close to his chest, hiding it from Darius—had been true then, the opposite was true now. Phoenix was almost certain that if he did ask, Darius would just wave off the question.

“Is that all that’s eating you?”

“Well, that and the flesh-dissolving mud curse.”

Jason chuckled. “Right. That. Should you be up and around? Sam told me you should rest more.”

“That traitor.”

Jason pushed his shoulder. “You should say thank you. Now there’s one more person who knows what you need.”

“You need to not be in my kitchen at one AM, that’s for certain.”

Phoenix jumped, nearly falling out of his chair. Darius stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Even in the dim lighting, Phoenix could see the bloodshot red of his eyes. “Sorry. Did we wake you?” And how much did you hear?

Darius shrugged, an easy, fluid movement that didn’t quite seem to match that look in his eyes. “I was checking in, making sure Evelyn and Caleb were alright, and everyone was settled alright, and… you were gone.”

A hint of accusation laced his tone, and Phoenix flinched. “Sorry,” he said again, “I just… couldn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He wiggled his hands in the air. “Still here! Haven’t vanished off the face of the earth again!”

Jason winced, and made a small ‘whoof’ noise next to him while Darius’ smile got a little more forced. Phoenix’s hands dropped to his lap. “Sorry. Too soon.”

“A bit so, yes. Do you need something to aid your sleep? A potion, perhaps, or—”

“I’m alright, Darius. Thank you.”

Before his disappearance, it had been easy to fall into silence with Darius. Once there was nothing left to say, they’d just share a comfortable, nearby existence. But now, the quiet loomed between them, painfully, awkwardly huge.

Jason cleared his throat. “Well, I’m gonna go check on Mom and Dad and then go back to bed. See you in the morning.” He patted Phoenix’s shoulder and disappeared, along with any hope Phoenix might have had that Jason would know the right thing to say to Darius.

“So. The curse.” Darius waved a hand in the air. “You said it drains energy, drains magic… so does Edalyn’s. You could try her elixirs. See if it works out for you.”

Nothing Phoenix hadn’t thought of, but the suggestion coming from someone else did somehow make it feel more plausible. “Yeah. Yeah, that might work.”

“And if the elixirs help…” Darius took a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem all too different from my abomination magic, at least not in general form. I could… give you some tips on controlling it.”

Phoenix turned the idea over in his mind, a laugh building in the back of his throat, and bursting out uncontrollably. Darius blinked slowly, managing to look exactly like an offended cat.

“You could have just said no if you think it’s that ridiculous.”

“No—no, it’s not that, I just… well, you know. I used to be the one teaching you magic. I know things have changed between us, but I wasn’t expecting a complete reversal.”

Darius chuckled. “It is a bit strange when you put it like that.” He braced one elbow on the tabletop, resting his face on his hand. “Now I’m the teacher. I’m sentencing you to ten years of dish-washing for running off to fight Belos without me.”

“Which time?”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose you did do it more than once. Twenty years, then.”

Phoenix snorted. “In your dreams.” He leaned his elbows on the table to match Darius, rubbing his aching joints. “I’d like that, though.”

“What, washing the dishes?”

“No, no. For you to teach me how to work with this, make it into something helpful. And to just… spend time together exploring new magic like we used to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like it a lot.”

Xxx

“Hunter! Jason!”

Luz cannoned into the two of them at the speed of light, closely followed by Willow and Gus. Phoenix laughed watching the two of them go down, but then King slammed into his legs, Collector flew into his chest, and he stared at the ceiling of Darius’ house, half wondering how he’d gotten on the floor.

“Phoenix!”

“Oof. Oh, we brought everyone. Hey!”

“Everyone but Eda and Raine,” King remarked, suggestively wiggling the bony arches that Phoenix was pretty sure passed for eyebrows up and down.

“And Camila,” Collector added helpfully.

Grimwalkers shuffled away from Collector, eying them nervously. Cherry’s hands twitched, like he might like to yank them away from Phoenix, and Darius’ eyes narrowed into little slits, his hand turning into an abomination knife.

Phoenix waved one hand at him. “It’s okay! They’re good, it’s fine.”

The others didn’t exactly crowd around to meet him, but they didn’t protest the Collector being there either. Luz pulled back from her attack on Hunter and Jason, eyes brimming with concern. “I am so, so, so, so, so, so sorry! I thought we finished him off, I thought—”

“Hey, whoa, it’s not your fault!” Jason protested, “You did amazing.”

“You were a puppet,” Hunter reminded him, “You missed the whole thing. But yeah, Luz. Don’t blame yourself. He’s… really good at squeezing out of tricky situations. You took a lot out of him—and whether you killed him or not, you definitely saved the isles from him.”

“He’s actually dead this time, right?” King asked Phoenix, “We’re sure?”

“Positive,” Phoenix confirmed, “Mole petrified him.”

“Good.” King nudged Collector. “Hey—remember—”

“I remember.” Collector floated up into the air, clearing his throat. “Hey, everybody. I’m Collector. I know I sort of… scared you before, but I’m really, really sorry for destroying your house. I can fix it, if you want? And… I’d like to be friends. No more house-destroying or puppeting. Pinky promise.”

For a long moment, no one said anything, just glanced at each other and the Collector. Finally, A.T. stepped forward, linking his pinky with Collector’s. “Hey, Collector. I’m A.T. and probably the expert around here on having friends. Everyone else seems to lack the experience.”

Protests and boos rose out of other grimwalkers, breaking the tense silence. A.T. just grinned, unfazed by their jeers. “We’re gonna get along great.”

Phoenix sighed in relief. He doubted anyone would actually be comfortable around Collector, not for a while. But at least open hostility had been cleared off the table.

“What’s going on in here?”

Everyone’s head snapped to the other side of the room, the Collector completely forgotten as Caleb made his way from the hallway, one hand on the wall for support. His face still hadn’t regained all its color, and he leaned heavily on the wall, but his smile was still the same big beam it had always been.

“Dad!”

Like a tidal wave, every grimwalker in the room shifted towards him at once, all of them babbling over with a thousand ‘are you alright’s and ‘you scared us’s. Cherry, ever the solid rock, got to him first, anxiously hovering inches away.

“You shouldn’t have tried to trade yourself for us,” he told Caleb.

A hush fell over the grimwalkers. Phoenix felt queasy, even knowing that Caleb would hear them out without losing his temper. It needed to be said. But part of him was glad Cherry was the one saying it.

“I couldn’t lose you. Any of you.”

“You almost lost all of us,” Cherry countered, “Offering to go to the human realm? You would have never seen any of us again! And we would have lost you!”

“I mean, I can make a portal to the human realm,” Collector announced chipperly, “You could have found each other again.”

King drew one paw back and forth across his throat, and the Collector made a small ‘ah’ noise, miming zipping up their lips.

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“You did something dumb and self-sacrificial,” Sam piped up, “If any of us had offered that trade, we’d get a nice long talk about how our lives have value on their own and we shouldn’t give up everything like that. You’d tell us there’s always another way.”

“I mean, Jason did try it,” Venari offered, “You’re okay with that?”

Caleb’s attention snapped over to him. “You did what?”

“This is what they’re talking about, Dad,” Jason said, fondly exasperated, “Your life isn’t worth any less than ours. You think we should live our lives free of Belos?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then the same should be true for you.”

A.T. nodded fiercely. “We’re not the only ones he hurt—you shouldn’t be stuck with him any more than we or anyone else should.”

“But I’m the one who—”

“You made mistakes,” Cherry cut in, “No one is denying that. You were unconscious, but Jason told Belos he needed to stop punishing you for what happened. And Belos isn’t the only one; you have to stop punishing yourself.” He twisted his hands. “It’s something we all have to work on.”

Silver raised a hand. “We would have been devastated if he’d taken you,” they told Caleb, “Please—don’t do something like that again.”

Caleb’s eyes welled up. “Okay,” he mumbled thickly, “Okay, I promise.” His hand hovered over his chest where bandages bulged against his shirt. “Is… are you all okay? I mean, that spell, the wound—”

Dagger waved a hand. “Sure, it hurt, but you think we can’t handle it?”

“Losing you and Mom would have hurt worse,” Jason told him. “Speaking of Mom…”

“Alive and well,” Evelyn commented from the kitchen. She waved from the table. “Hey. I went the other way ‘round.” She jabbed one finger at Caleb. “They’re right, by the way, mister. Pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll… well, I don’t have a good threat ready at the moment, but you won’t like it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” One of Caleb’s eyebrows arched up. “Although I seem to recall someone else going off alone to make deals with Phillip.”

“I was going on a rescue mission that I was pretty sure I could handle and turned out to be wrong about,” she corrected, “Not the same thing. But fine, of course, next time our kids get kidnapped by someone who has it out for specifically us and I track them down to their lair, I’ll come get you. Happy?”

Caleb smiled at her, a small, sad imitation of his usual smile. “Ecstatic.” He turned towards the Collector. “I’m—”

“The original! The first Caleb! Wow, Phillip would not stop talking about you.” Collector hopped up into the air, sitting cross-legged. “I almost feel like I know you, even though we’ve never met. Isn’t that weird?”

Caleb winced. “Well… I don’t know what stories Phillip told you, but I think I’d like it if you knew the real me. And… I’d like to know the real you. But, um. Before we get to know each other… does your offer of a portal door still stand?”

Xxx

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Phoenix looked up from the pile of books Jason had rescued from the rubble of the house—he, Mole, Joseph, and Cherry had been going back and forth between their destroyed home and Darius’ house, ferrying mostly-intact personal belongings to their owners. Phoenix had stayed behind where he could sit (at just about everyone’s insistence), sorting through what they’d brought and picking out what was still salvageable. But at Evelyn’s snappish tone, he wobbled to his feet and swung his way to the kitchen. Caleb stood with Collector and Petro, holding a bag that looked suspiciously like it was filled with crumbled pieces of stone.

Evelyn stood in the doorway, blocking their path. Brave of her, Phoenix thought vaguely, considering how Collector had flicked her shields aside like they were nothing last time. “You can’t be serious. After everything he did?”

“I’m not doing it for Belos,” Caleb said quietly, “I’m doing it for me. And for him.”

Caleb nodded to Petro behind him, uncharacteristically quiet and melancholy. Half-healed bruises and cuts still mottled his face, but his breathing came normally now instead of in those awful shudders. The moment he noticed Phoenix looking at him, he scowled, glaring daggers.

Evelyn crossed her arms. “He doesn’t deserve the kindness. He would have desecrated your grave a thousand times to make more grimwalkers.”

“But I’m not him. I need to bury what’s left, Evelyn—I’m not going to feel at peace until I do. Please.”

Evelyn sighed. “Are you really going to take him to the human realm?”

“Do you think anyone wants what’s left of him here?”

“I suppose not,” Evelyn admitted.

“You don’t have to come with me, Evelyn. In fact, I think it would probably just upset you. Just let me do this, okay?”

“Alright. Alright, but be careful.” She tilted her head at Petro, lowering her voice. “Do you actually trust him?”

“No,” Caleb said simply, “Not yet. But I don’t think he’ll try anything for now.”

Evelyn ‘hm’ed unhappily, but moved out of the way. The three walked—or floated, in Collector’s case—out the door, heading to the outskirts of Bonesborough. After a moment of hesitation, Phoenix followed. Maybe Caleb thought everything would be fine, but Phoenix was almost certain something would go wrong. He wasn’t willing to leave it to chance, especially after what everyone had said this morning.

Phoenix quickly fell behind—even with the injuries Petro and Caleb had sustained, they still walked faster than he could hobble on his crutches. After about twenty agonizing minutes, Collector swooped through the sky over him.

“Hiya, Phoenix,” they chirped, “Did you want to come along? Caleb and Hunter already made it to the human realm, but I can catch you up real fast.”

“Yes, please,” Phoenix panted. A star formed underneath him, and Collector sat next to him. They stayed low to the ground, but the star moved quickly, zipping through the streets of Bonesborough.

Collector fidgeted, tapping his fingers against each other. “Are we going to be okay?” they finally asked in a small voice.

“What?”

“You’re not still—are you mad at me?”

Phoenix hissed out a long breath. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know.” Collector rested his chin on his knees. “Were you going to take King away forever?”

“I think I was.” Phoenix heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for trying to make you disappear. And for destroying your house. And—” Their voice wobbled, and tears welled up in their eyes. “And putting you in the nightmare. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I don’t want to, either.” Phoenix scratched absently at his arms where the wounds from Belos used to be. “I don’t think I ever did. I was just… scared.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I was going to come back the first time. I really was. I mean—I was going to take King, but I would have come back.”

“I believe you now.”

Phoenix took a deep breath. “We both hurt each other. And I can’t promise that we won’t accidentally hurt each other again.”

“So… you’re saying we shouldn’t be friends?”

“No! No, it’s just a risk we have to take. You can’t be friends with people without… opening up the possibility of getting hurt. But that’s okay. And I think we’re going to be okay.”

“Okay.” Collector pulled the star to a stop in front of the owl house. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” Phoenix hopped off the star. “I’ll be back soon.”

The door shimmered in front of him, a wall of light too bright to look past into the other realm.

The human realm.

Phoenix slowly swung over the threshold. It didn’t feel any different to be in the human realm. He’d assumed he’d be able to tell when he crossed over, like all the magic would be sucked out of the world, but it just seemed… normal here. The house that held the door was a bit dilapidated, sure, and a recent-looking hole gaped in the floorboards, but nothing seemed terribly wrong with the place. He could easily imagine Jason curled up on that old couch reading, or Hunter pacing the floor.

Low murmurs rose up from beneath him, and Phoenix slowly thumped down a creaky staircase. Each step involved a lengthy back-and-forth with his crutches, but he made it to the bottom, where Petro and Caleb stood in front of a gaping hole in the ground. They slowly lowered what was left of Belos into the grave and covered the stone back up with dirt. Phoenix hobbled closer, but stayed far enough back that he wouldn’t be intruding.

“Would you… like to say something?” Caleb asked Petro.

Petro gave a short nod. “Bye, old man,” he said abruptly, “You gave me the best parts of my life, and I’ll never forget everything you did for me. Rot in hell. I’ll probably meet you there.” He gave the grave a snappy salute, then spit on it and stepped back.

“That was… nice?”

Petro acknowledged Caleb’s statement with a curt nod. “Your turn.”

Caleb took a deep breath. “I guess this is it,” he said slowly, “I wish we could have done something different—but I’m glad I landed where I did. I’m going to do better. With the grimwalkers you made, I mean. I won’t run away this time. No matter what, I’ll stick with them, and make sure they never feel abandoned and alone again.” He sighed. “I know Belos probably wouldn’t care. But… I hope whatever’s left of the lonely kid who was scared of me leaving would like that. Goodbye, Pip. I won’t forget you.” He glanced up, noticing Phoenix for the first time. “Oh! Did you come to…”

“I came to check on you.” Phoenix shrugged. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so.” Caleb heaved a deep sigh. “Is it wrong that I don’t feel sad?”

“Why did you bury him at all, then?”

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right, leaving him there. I know he did a lot wrong, but... I wanted to bring him back home.” He chuckled dryly. “I guess he got what he wanted in the end, didn’t he? Me and him, back in the human realm.”

“That wasn’t all he wanted,” Phoenix said softly, “You know that.”

“Yeah. I do. It’s just…”

“Complicated?”

“Always is.” Caleb bounced on the balls of his feet, staring up at the low ceiling. “Could you give me a minute?”

“Yeah.” Phoenix looked around, but Petro was nowhere in sight—Phoenix swore under his breath and hopped back towards the stairs, tucking his crutches under his arm and leaning against the wall for balance instead while he made his way up. The door to the house swung wide open, and Phoenix hobbled outdoors. There would be no catching up with Petro if he’d run, he knew, but the glint of ruined gold armor shone from down the path, at the edge of the trees.

Petro stood just within the treeline, watching the human realm with hungry, cautious eyes. Phoenix stopped short next to him, huffing for breath.

“Thinking of running?” he asked.

Petro snorted. “Think you could stop me?”

“Probably not,” Phoenix admitted, “Hey—Caleb trusted you wouldn’t try anything.”

“If I was ‘trying anything’ you and Caleb would be joining the emperor in his grave. This isn’t ‘trying anything.’ This is just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Phoenix echoed, “Why?”

“Why would I stay?” Petro countered, “There’s nothing left in the Isles for me. I’ve done enough damage there, I think.”

“You don’t have to go,” Phoenix said quietly, “You could try to fix things, make up for what you’ve done. That’s what I’m doing.”

“We’ve already established that you’re a better person than me, little bird. Besides, I can’t stay. No one there trusts me, and if they did, they’d have to be brain-dead.” A wry smile pulled across his face. “It’s like Cherry said, isn’t it? You’re glad I’m changing, but that doesn’t mean you want me around while I do. The Isles are too small, and too full of people who know me. Here?” He swept one arm out. “It’s huge here. I could walk for miles and not leave this city. It’s the kind of place I can change—if I want to. I could get far away from everything, truly far away.”

“You can’t get away from yourself.”

Petro looked around, feigning surprise. “No, really? And here I thought that I would just leave my skin behind and walk on a new man who’s never done anything wrong in his life!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Look, are you going to try to stop me, or what? Because if you do…”

“You’ll kill me? I thought you were planning that anyway.”

Petro snorted. “Maybe I’ll take a visit to the Isles in a few years to give it another shot.”

Phoenix reached into his pocket, his hand closing around the extra concealment stone he’d taken for Ash what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Here.” He held out the stone. “This will help you blend in here, keep people from asking too many questions.”

Petro eyed the necklace. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” Phoenix nodded to the stone. “I think you’re right. I think if you’re going to change, you need to leave the demon realm, at least for a little bit. Get some distance from everything.” He stared Petro in the eye. “If you aren’t going to cause havoc here. I mean it, don’t hurt anyone.”

“I have no reason to. No one’s going to get hurt—I’m not trying to run an empire here, sheesh.” Petro held out an open palm. “Am I getting the stone and starting over or not?”

Phoenix slowly lowered it into his hand. “This doesn’t make everything you did okay, you know that, right? But… maybe here you can become the kind of person who makes up for it.”

“Hm. Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.” Petro’s hand closed over the pendant, but Phoenix didn’t let go of the string just yet.

“Do you remember her? Victoria, I mean.”

Petro blinked. “Who?”

“The girl who stopped you when you tried to kill me. Do you remember her?”

“Ah, so that was her name. Of course I remember her,” Petro said easily, far more easily than Phoenix expected.

“Wha—you do?”

“I remember every kill.” Now Petro was the one staring Phoenix down, uncomfortably level for the topic. “When I tracked down the witches who killed my guardian, they didn’t remember who she was. I swore I’d never be that careless. I knew that if someone came to me, like you are now, and asked if I remembered who I killed, I would be able to say yes. Even if I was adding them to the list, they should know I’d remember.”

If it weren’t for the prerequisite of killing someone, the statement almost would have sounded… noble. Phoenix let go of the string, and Petro slipped the stone over his head. He rippled, shifting and changing. His ears rounded out, and his armor turned into a T-shirt and jeans. He still looked like Petro—the scars didn’t disappear, nor did the dangerous glint in his eyes. But something about him almost seemed... peaceful.

Phoenix stepped back towards the house, towards the demon realm. “Good luck,” he said softly.

Petro gave him a short nod, and stepped out of the trees, into the human realm. Phoenix watched him until he disappeared from view, then slowly hobbled back into the house at the end of the path. Caleb emerged from the basement, looking around. “Where’s Petro?”

“Gone.”

Caleb eyed him. “You don’t seem too concerned about it.”

“I think he’ll be fine. And I don’t think he’ll try killing me again for a while. Give it a few years.”

“Hm.” Caleb glanced down the path, worry creasing his face. Phoenix bumped his shoulder.

“I don’t think he needs the kind of help you and Evelyn can give. He just… needs to be on his own for a bit.”

Caleb sighed. “You knew him best, or at least as best as any of us could.” He closed the door to the house. “You ready to go home?”

“Ready.”

They stepped through the portal together, leaving the human realm, and Belos, behind. Eda and Lilith waited just outside the door, Collector nowhere in sight. Caleb froze, but Eda and Lilith didn’t seem to notice, crowding around Phoenix instead. Eda lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Look who’s back! Darius tells me you’re looking into elixirs, huh? Well, for a good price, I can—”

“We’ll share,” Lilith interrupted, elbowing her sister, “Glad you’re safe, sir.”

“Please don’t call me that, Lilith. Just Phoenix.”

“Right.”

“Ah—hello.” The bard witch from the keep smiled awkwardly at Phoenix. New scars streaked their face like tears, but at least they were still alive. “It’s nice to meet you properly. I’m Raine.”

“Phoenix. Sorry about…” Phoenix gestured to his face. “I wish I could have done something.”

“And I wish I’d been able to keep Belos from taking over the titan, but here we are. Don��t worry about it. Eda tells me you’re the previous golden guard.” They tilted their head at Caleb. “And this is…”

“One of the other ones?” Eda guessed, “Luz told us all about your secret little grimwalker group.”

“Ah. No.” Caleb scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly avoiding their eyes. “I’m… the original one…”

He still hasn’t figured out how to word it, Phoenix thought. For some reason, the familiar stumble made him want to laugh.

Lilith gestured to Caleb’s ears, delighted. “Oh! I see! You must have been here before Belos, that’s fascinating. You’ll have to tell me what the Isles were like—of course, I did see a bit of the Deadwardian Era myself through a time pool, but a first-hand account—and the rest of your family, such a rich depository of history, absolutely incredible.”

Caleb smiled warmly. “I’d be happy to talk with you. Evelyn and I both.”

“Evelyn, hah!” Eda grinned. “What a coincidence, that name’s run in our family for a while!”

“Huh,” Caleb said lightly, “How funny.” He cleared his throat. “It was nice to meet you two—I hope we can get to know each other better.”

He swiftly exited the house before Phoenix could say anything.

“Huh. Bit jumpy, isn’t he?” Eda tossed Phoenix a couple of glowing gold potion bottles that he fumbled to catch with his crutches. “Tell us how that works out, okay? Now that Lilth’s got the basic recipe down, we can mess with it until it’s right for you. Best to down it all at once, by the way. And don’t let it sit in your mouth for longer than you have to. Doesn’t affect the magic or anything, you just want to drink it before you can taste it.”

“You’re not in this alone,” Lilith cut in, “Curses can be tricky, but there are ways to manage them, and they’re easier if you have a support system.”

Phoenix’s chest glowed warmly at the reminder. “I think I’m figuring that out. Thank you.” He raised the elixir bottle like a toast. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Any idea what you’re going to do now that you don’t have to hide anymore?” Lilith asked.

“I didn’t really think I’d make it this far,” Phoenix admitted, “We’re going to fix up our home, but after that… I’ve got no clue.”

Eda grinned. “Well, I’ve got a little something-something cooking up on the back burner. Now that Belos is gone, and the covens are being dismantled, people are going to need someone to teach them how to be a real wild witch. How’d you like to get in on the teaching action?”

Phoenix flushed. “Oh. I don’t know, I don’t think that would… I’m not exactly… I mean, I wouldn’t even know what a school is supposed to look like, let alone how to be a part of one.”

“That makes you perfect for the job. You think I want a bunch of rule-following book-stuffy teachers at a school for wild magic?” Eda snorted. “As if. No thanks. But from the way Darius was always ‘my mentor’ this and ‘my mentor’ that, I imagine you’re a preeeetty good teacher when you have a mind to be. Or at least a good counselor or something.” She smacked his back. “Think about it, alright? We’ll see if this idea even takes off, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it’s going to catch like honeybees on fire.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks, Eda.”

Caleb waited for him outside, but started walking the moment Phoenix closed the door behind him. He kept his pace slow, hanging back with Phoenix’s hobble.

“Why didn’t you let them know they’re your descendants?” Phoenix asked.

Caleb chuckled humorlessly. “Is it hard to believe that I don’t think I’m ready to tell them?”

Phoenix thought about Darius, and a brief smile crossed his face. “No. Not hard to believe at all.”

Xxx

“What do you think, salvageable or no?”

Phoenix considered the ladder Caleb presented for a moment. Compared to most of the wreckage they’d salvaged, this damage didn’t seem too bad. Not that he could even begin to wonder why Caleb had brought back a ladder when they were supposed to be looking for personal belongings. “Well, it seems mostly fine. Top rung is missing, but that… can… be re…”

Phoenix looked up at Caleb, who wore the biggest, smuggest grin he’d ever seen in his life plastered all over his face. “Is this the ladder you fell off of?”

“The one and only.” Caleb collapsed the ladder, sitting next to Phoenix with a sigh. “Titan, that seems like forever ago.”

“A lot happened,” Phoenix agreed, “I wish a few broken ribs and a busted ankle was still the worst injury you had to deal with.”

“Don’t forget the concussion.”

Phoenix waved a hand. “Jason’s had about 3 concussions since the day of unity, clearly they’re not a big deal.”

Phoenix heard an affronted gasp, and looked up to see a distressed Hunter jabbing one finger at him. “Do not say that in front of Jason. Do you know what we went through convincing him that he needed to rest?!”

“Was it worse than what we go through convincing Phoenix to take it easy?” Caleb asked wryly.

Phoenix waved a hand at the ladder. “Pot.”

“Fair enough. Did you need something, Hunter?”

Hunter took a deep breath. “Thank you for repairing Flapjack.” He scratched the bird’s head. “I… really thought I was going to lose him. But he’s okay now, thanks to you. I know… palisman are connected to their witches. If they’re going to heal, then they need to be close.” Another deep breath. “Which is why… I think he should stay with you for a bit. So that he can heal. I know you said he’s mine now, but in terms of magical bonds, I feel like the carver might stand a better chance for medical care, and you know more about repairing palisman anyway, so—”

Flapjack pecked his finger. Caleb smiled. “I don’t think Flap agrees there. And I don’t think that’s what you want, either.”

“Of course not,” Hunter declared immediately, “I want to keep him, I just…” his hands curled into shaking fists. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to take care of him anymore, at least not right now.” His voice cracked. “I hurt him, I—”

“Phillip hurt him,” Caleb said fiercely. He took Hunter’s hands in his own. “Phillip hurt him, not you. And Phillip’s gone now. Maybe I know more about repair than you, but Flapjack didn’t wake up to save my life. He woke up to save yours. I carved Flapjack, but he is your palisman.”

“Don’t you miss him?” Hunter asked, “Don’t you want a palisman? Aren’t you upset he’s not yours anymore?”

Or do you not care about him? The sentiment wasn’t stated, but it ran under the conversation like a riptide current. Caleb stumbled for words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Yes,” he said finally, “I do miss him. I loved having a palisman. And if Flapjack wanted to be my palisman again, I’d accept in a heartbeat. But… I couldn’t take him from you. Not if that’s where he wants to be.” Caleb rubbed the stumps of his fingers. “When I carved Flapjack, I wished to choose my own path in life. How could I deny him that same choice?” He heaved a sigh. “No. He’s yours.” A smile crossed his face. “But… I wouldn’t mind a visit from him every now and then. And maybe I could teach you a little bit about palisman repair, eh? My hands can’t hold the carving tools too well anymore, but I’ve still got some tricks left to pass on.”

Hunter smiled back, scratching Flapjack’s head again. “I’d like that.”

Xxx

“Hey! Phoenix!” Novus waved, beckoning him over. Ash stood with him, eying Phoenix nervously, but not retreating.

“So, good news—since a lot of my stuff was metal and small, it more-or-less survived the whole…” he waved a hand. “Yes. Anyway, I was examining those blueprints again, asking around, and I think we were looking at it all the wrong way.”

“Oh?”

“We were trying to figure out how to keep your arms from melting, trying to figure out how to keep it all smushed together. But that’s not the solution at all.”

Novus held up a much smaller, lighter gauntlet. Gauntlet wasn’t even the correct way to describe it—the contraption seemed to be a simple padded skeleton of metal with a joint at the elbow and a strap to pull over Phoenix’s thumb.

“What is it?” Phoenix asked.

“It’s a brace. Simple, easy. Instead of keeping your arms together, it’ll provide joint support for when your arms do melt—that way, there’s less stress on your bones and joints. And there’s plenty of space for your curse to get in and out through the gaps, so you can use it as needed. And look—” He twisted one of the circular bands, and it tightened, shrinking until Phoenix doubted he could fit his arm through without melting them.

“To keep the mud from pulling your bones out of place,” Novus explained, “It’s completely manual, so you don’t have to worry about it going haywire again. If it does get stuck, the whole thing pops open with a bit of pressure. I already tested it on my arm.” He tapped the brace. “It’s mostly for your elbow and wrist, but if you need more, I can work something out for your hands, too. Want to give this part a test?”

Phoenix delicately took one of the braces from him, sliding it over his arm and cinching it snugly into place. He moved his arm back and forth—the joint worked perfectly, bending the brace with almost no resistance. And when he slid his crutches under his shoulder, the strain on his wrist and elbow didn’t seem quite so terrible.

“This is… wow. Novus, thank you, this is incredible!”

“Thank Ash,” he replied with a grin, “They’re the one who gave me the idea to focus on support instead of containment.”

Phoenix blinked in surprise, turning to face the other grimwalker. Ash shrugged. “I could feel your bones shifting around when you saved me on that cliff,” they said quietly, “Like I said—it’s not something you can control or mess around with. So I thought maybe lessening the damage it does to your body might be a better option.”

Phoenix blinked back tears. “Thank you,” he mumbled, “both of you. It’s wonderful.”

Ash shrugged again. “Whatever makes all of… this… easier. I still don’t like…” they gestured broadly at Phoenix’s arms. “…but it seems like it’s helped us more than harmed us, and it’s DEFINITELY not going away any time soon. So… I guess we’ll just learn how to live with it, just like we have for everything else Belos did to us.”

“I guess so.”

Xxx

Phoenix slowly pushed open the door to Darius’ guest room. “Hey, Sam.” He’d missed too many meals in a row—Phoenix barely saw him anymore. Lake and Locke wouldn’t say it plain, but they were worried about him, too.

Sam grunted in response, absent-mindedly tapping a light glyph over and over again. He pushed the paper to the side and drew another one, obsessively checking all the lines, then gingerly poking at it with one finger. Nothing happened.

“It’s really over, isn’t it?” he asked, “They really aren’t going to work again.”

“That’s… how it looks,” Phoenix said gently, “Are you going to be okay?”

Sam heaved a distressed sigh. “These aren’t just a way to do magic without a bile sack. The glyphs are… they’re the language of the titan. The glyphs speak to them, and they respond with a burst of magic. They’re beautiful, they’re conversation. They’re more than just magic to me.”

“Yeah?”

Sam nodded, his eyes fixed on the dormant glyph. “Being with Belos, being the golden guard… it was so lonely. So isolating. I depended on Belos for magic, we all did. But then…” he tapped the glyph again, again with no effect. “But then I found the glyphs. I found what they could do, and I spend so much time studying them. I wrote glyph after glyph and tried combo after combo. And when I used the glyphs… I didn’t feel so alone. The more I used them, the closer I felt to the titan, and that was comforting. Maybe I had to run around in secret with them, maybe using them got me killed, but they were the best part of my life.”

Sam crumbled up the useless paper. “This is probably stupid, but losing them… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like just losing a hobby. It feels like I’ve lost a friend.” He quickly wiped his eyes. “Like I said, stupid, huh?”

Phoenix thought about King, about all the warmth and personality the tiny titan contained. Maybe Sam hadn’t spoken directly to the titan, the way Phoenix had with King, but if the glyphs were conversation… “No,” he said softly, “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.”

Sam smiled a watery smile. “And what am I supposed to do with my life now, huh? I’ve been studying the glyphs for years, and suddenly…”

“Eda’s looking for teachers,” Phoenix offered, “Maybe you could teach about the glyphs.”

Sam snorted. “Oh, yeah, right, a course about a dead language. Who’d want to take something like that?”

“Nerds like you,” Lake’s voice laughed from the door.

“And us,” Locke added, “I want to know more about the dead language.”

“Tell me about the dead language,” Lake agreed.

Sam’s face creased into a frown, and he opened his mouth, as if about to tell the two of them to quit bothering him, but no sound came out. Phoenix followed his gaze to Lake and Locke. Even though Lake had come in with a joke, there wasn’t a trace of humor behind the two of their faces, only plain earnestness. Sam turned away, but not before Phoenix saw tears start to stream from his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said thickly, “Yeah, okay. I’ll teach you.”

Xxx

“Last one—done.” Viney cut off Dagger’s cast and stepped back. “You’re all set—literally.” She finger-gunned, clicking her tongue. “Little bit of healer humor for you.”

Dagger stretched, wiggling his fingers with a groan. “Finally. I thought those things were never going to come off.” He started to get up, then caught himself. “Ah—thank you.”

Phoenix almost choked at the words, and even Viney looked taken aback for a moment, but she quickly smoothed the expression away. “Eh—you’re welcome.”

Dagger looked up at the ceiling. “You were… an adequate healer,” he said gruffly, “Likely better than most. Goodbye forever.”

He swung his legs out off the doctor’s bench and shambled towards the door, unused to the movement after his time healing.

Viney hesitated, taking a step forward and another back. “It doesn’t have to be forever,” she called shortly, “Hey—once things are back to normal around here, do you want to come to a flyer derby match? Rough contact sport, I’m gonna knock a whole bunch of people out of the sky.”

Dagger stopped in the doorway. “Well. Maybe. Only to watch people get body-slammed mid air and fall.”

“Right, right,” Viney agreed, “I thought you’d like that part. Hunter can tell you when the matches are—or you could stop by every so often, and I’ll keep you updated?”

“Sounds… fine. Goodbye now.”

Dagger stalked out, and Phoenix chased after him, flashing a thumbs-up to Viney. His own ankle still sat heavy in its cast, but he’d find another healer. “That was nice,” he ventured.

Dagger walked quickly, outpacing Phoenix. “I don’t care about your opinion on the matter. Honestly, why did you even come to the appointment? You knew I was going to be able to walk at the end.”

“It was… sort of my fault you got injured in the first place,” Phoenix said sheepishly, “I thought I should be there. And I know how you feel about trusting strangers. But I guess… that doesn’t apply to Viney anymore?”

“Viney is now an acquaintance,” Dagger said shortly, “One that I, in fact, trust and wish to be around more than I do you. This discussion is over.”

“I just thought it was n—”

“Over.”

Xxx

Caleb plunked a blue scroll on the kitchen table, unrolling it with a flourish. It nearly knocked over Darius’ coffee, but he lifted the cup just in time.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Caleb said with a grin.

“Dreams do come true,” Evelyn laughed, “Everyone—look. We’ve been working on plans for the new house. Novus has been helping, so he’s seen them, but we wanted to share the plans before we made any final decisions.”

“Now that we have an actual count on how many people will be living with us and aren’t periodically adding on rooms, we’ve actually got a real house design,” Caleb continued, “What do you think?”

Phoenix examined the paper, lifting Ghost up so that they could see. The plans did seem more orderly—two stories up with both floors relatively even in size, instead of a sprawling, chaotic bottom floor and a few add-on rooms up top where necessary.

Mole tapped the yard area with a frown.

“He’s right,” Jason piped up, “The fence is too close to the house. The garden will be smaller, unless we get rid of the griffin pen.”

Caleb and Evelyn glanced at each other. “That’s… the other thing we wanted to talk to you about,” Caleb said slowly.

Evelyn took his hand. “We don’t have to hide anymore,” she said lightly, “And with a portal to the human realm, well… we can get some of the foods Caleb needs more easily. The garden isn’t going to be as big because we… we thought we might move closer to town.”

“They’re rebuilding, too,” Caleb added hastily, “If there’s a time to bring our home closer, it’s now. The move will mean better access to food, more healers, help if we need it—we don’t have to be right dead center of the town, but we think it’s a good idea to be a little closer to the people.” He squeezed Evelyn’s hand. “We’ve been isolated long enough. I fell in love with the people of the Isles as much as the Isles itself; I’d like to be near them again.”

“What about hunting demons?” Horus protested, “We can’t get food if we’re not close to the forest.”

“We can live closer to the outskirts,” Caleb promised, “And like we said—now that we can rely on other people, we won’t have to worry as much about food.”

“There’s always bounties for bigger demons,” Evelyn offered, “You don’t have to give it up completely.”

“I don’t like it.”

Silver’s declaration came clear, ringing with distaste, but they quailed underneath the sudden attention as everyone turned towards them.

“I mean—” they stuttered, “I just—uh—never mind.”

“It’s alright,” Caleb encouraged them, “Go ahead, no one’s angry.”

“It’s—it’s too close. There’s too many people. Even with all of us, if they get angry, we won’t be enough to stop them.” They rubbed their arms. “I think we should stay in the woods.”

It was the most Phoenix had ever heard them say without cracking a joke. Silver got along with others so well and was so openly friendly, it was easy to forget the way they crumpled inside of a crowd. But Phoenix remembered how they’d shut down when the coven day parade had turned ugly, and remembered the way they’d nearly died. No wonder they were nervous about moving closer to town and revealing their presence.

“What if we just moved to the edge of the woods?” Phoenix suggested.

All eyes swung towards him, and Silver perceptibly sank in relief. Phoenix shrugged.

“I won’t pretend moving closer to people isn’t appealing,” he admitted, glancing over at Darius, “Even just in the months I’ve been here, we’ve had several emergencies that wouldn’t have been as dire if we weren’t so far from civilization.” He shifted Ghost to his other hip. “And I think Ghost should get the chance to be around witchlings their own age, or we’ll just be repeating history.

But… I think maybe we need to take it slower than moving right to their doors.” He cast an apologetic glance at Caleb. “We have been isolated for a while—I’m not sure launching right back into the thick of society is a good plan. If we move just to the edge of the woods, we’ll be within easy walking distance of town, but far enough away that it won’t be too hard to get used to. I think,” he amended, looking to Silver.

They shrugged.

“I’m okay with that,” Horus agreed.

“The griffins will like having more space, too,” Joseph added, “I know you won’t rely as heavily on their eggs with access to the human realm, but they can’t go out into the wild. And griffin chicks as pets are still a good source of income, especially if you’re planning to rely more heavily on resources from town.”

Caleb smiled, a somewhat tight smile, but still genuine. “Well, this is why we thought we’d get opinions before making a decision,” he said cheerfully, “We’ll reconsider. Thanks, guys.”

Grimwalkers filed out of the kitchen, Caleb and Evelyn following suit after rolling up their plans. Only Darius, Phoenix, and Ghost remained in the kitchen.

“You know, you could always stay with me,” Darius said casually. A little too casually—he stared at his coffee like looking at Phoenix would seem too desperate. “Especially if you’re looking to send the little one to school.” He nodded to Ghost. “I’m closer to Hexside. And if you want to stay near people…”

Phoenix shook his head. “I couldn’t separate Ghost from the rest of the family.” Ghost babbled in agreement.

“You’re their family, too. They wouldn’t be completely separated.” Darius’ fingers tightened on his mug. “What’s the alternative? You move far away? I mean, you in particular, you’re trying out Eda’s elixirs to manage your curse, and you and I had plans to figure out how to use it more beneficially. Wouldn’t it make sense to stay here? With me?”

“Oh—” Phoenix sighed. “Darius—”

“Don’t.” Darius raised a hand. “You’ll go with them. I know that.” A sad, brief smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say that will change your mind?”

“I’ll visit plenty,” Phoenix promised, “We really won’t be that far, and if we’re closer to town, I can catch transportation to Bonesborough easy. It’s not—I don’t—you’re not—”

Darius shook his head. “It’s fine.” He smiled another one of those sad, small smiles. “I suppose I never really had to share you before, did I? I mean, you were always off on some mission or another, or guarding Belos, but… well, it’s different now, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care about them more than I care about you,” Phoenix told him bluntly, “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, or that I prefer being around them to being around you. But…” he gestured back. “…they’re home now, in a way the keep never was, and in a way it would have been unfair to ask you to be back then. It’s… it’s hard to explain, but it wouldn’t feel right if I stayed with anyone but them.”

Darius looked away. “Of course. Stay with whomever you feel is right.”

He stalked off, and Phoenix heaved a sigh, setting Ghost down and rubbing his temples. “I’m making a mess of things, aren’t I?” he asked the toddler.

They nodded serenely and patted his knee. “Home,” they told him seriously, “Nee-Nee home.”

“I’m trying, buddy.” Phoenix caught sight of Chryses through the window, and he grabbed his crutches, swinging towards the door. “What is he…?”

Getting Cherry or Jason or literally anyone who was capable of walking right now probably would have been the better option. But Phoenix had been stuck inside for too long while everyone insisted that he rest, and this seemed like the perfect excuse to go out.

Chryses didn’t prove hard to catch up with. He moved slowly, and he kept pausing to peer around corners. Phoenix cleared his throat as he approached, but still, Chryses flinched.

“I’m just looking for Silver,” he said softly, “They disappeared after the house thing. I can’t find them inside.”

“I’ll help.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Chryses’ face. “I’m not completely fragile, you know. And I’m not sure you’re in any state to be helping, anyway.”

“Well, I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile, either,” Phoenix shot back, “Besides, I think Darius is mad at me.”

“For staying with us?”

“More like for not staying with him.”

“Ah.”

Chryses and Phoenix wandered through Bonesborough, occasionally stopping to ask if anyone had seen Silver. Every time, they were met with head shakes and sympathetic ‘I’m sure they’ll turn up’s.

“I haven’t seen them.” The latest witch glanced behind Phoenix. “Ah—you might want to slow down. Your kid is having trouble keeping up.”

Phoenix blinked. “My kid?”

“Is that little one not yours?”

Phoenix clumsily turned around to see Ghost padding up the street towards them, huffing and puffing. They finally caught up with a dramatic sigh, reaching up towards Phoenix.

“You’re not supposed to be out here!” Phoenix exclaimed, dropping his crutches to crouch down next to them, “How long have you been following?”

“Oh—hey!”

A demon stopped and backpedaled, pointing at Phoenix and Chryses. “Are you looking for another witch like you? About yay high, braid?”

“Yes!” Chryses answered quickly, “You’ve seen them?”

“On the next transport worm to the third rib.”

“Silver,” Phoenix groaned.

Chryses scooped Ghost up. “We know where they’re going now. We can catch them. No need to rush. Should we take Ghost home first?”

Phoenix picked his crutches up and slowly rose to his feet. “No, we might miss Silver if they decide to come back soon. We should go after them.”

Chryses nodded, and Phoenix led the way towards the transport worm station—or, at least, where it should be, if they hadn’t rearranged the whole system since he’d disappeared.

Chryses hummed. “It’s nice to finally be walking with someone at my pace,” he told Phoenix, “I know it’s just because of your broken ankle and the baby, but… I’m glad I’m not struggling to keep up for once.”

Phoenix blinked. “Does that happen often?”

Chryses shrugged as best he could around the toddler in his arms. “No one ever means to leave me behind. But it’s easy to do.”

“I’m sorry.”

They plodded on in silence, climbing onto the transport worm. A few riders gave Ghost a worried look, or an openly-hostile stink-eye, but one glare from Phoenix sent them staring determinedly out the windows. Phoenix sat down with a whoosh, stretching out his injured leg with a sigh. The braces on his arms clicked gently with the movement.

Chryses plopped down next to him. “How long has it been hurting? The curse, I mean.”

“Oh.” Phoenix rubbed his wrists and popped his knuckles. “A while, I guess. I’ve just sort of gotten used to my arms always hurting a bit. The leg and the strain of the crutches don’t help, though. How did you know?”

“You’re not the only one with old wounds that hurt.” Chryses pressed one arm against his chest. “I hope we find Silver soon.”

The town remained a wreck—Belos’ shaking had caused walls to crumble, and graffiti still marred the buildings that did stand. But the woods hadn’t changed a bit. Aside from the occasional uprooted tree, there was no evidence whatsoever that the apocalypse had nearly happened.

Phoenix had SEEN their home destroyed. He’d seen it fall beneath the flick of the Collector’s finger. He’d come back again to fight Belos. But somehow, without a lurking threat, the wreckage seemed… sadder. Rubble had been shifted and moved, organized and cleared away so that the others could reclaim their belongings, but knowing that they wouldn’t be rebuilding and were abandoning the site altogether made the piles of stone and wood feel lonelier.

Chryses let Ghost down, pointing silently. Ghost toddled off, moving chunks of rubble with heavy little grunts, and digging in the dirt with their bare hands, singing a song only they knew the words to. Phoenix followed Chryses’ finger to Silver, who perched forlornly on a ruined chair, resting their chin on their knees.

“You didn’t have to follow me. I was going to go back.”

“I know,” Chryses replied softly, “Are you okay?”

“Just wanted to say goodbye.” Silver stood up, brushed themselves off, and waved. “Bye, ruins! Sorry that you two came all the way out here for me. In the immortal words of vegetables everywhere: lettuce leaf now.”

Chryses didn’t move from his spot, even when Silver passed him. “Silver.”

Silver’s shoulders trembled, but they stopped in their tracks. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

“Are you sure about that? Both of you?”

“I’m sure,” Chryses told him. Phoenix nodded.

Silver took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be that close to that many people. Phoenix, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you got us pushed back closer to the woods, but even just that many people knowing we’re out there… I know there are benefits, I was listening to Dad, but it’s dangerous. It’s too risky. What if they find out we used to be golden guards and they want revenge? What if they all hate grimwalkers and they figure out what we are? What if they just don’t like outsiders? We’re safer in hiding. None of them can get angry at us if they don’t know where we are.”

“The cat’s out of the bag already,” Phoenix said quietly, “We’ve been living at Darius’ house for a couple of weeks now, and people have seen us. Caleb might have been able to sneak one grimwalker at a time, but moving all of us is going to be impossible not to notice.”

“Town isn’t that bad, is it?” Chryses asked, “I’ve never been, but surely the people aren’t—”

“You weren’t there!” Silver flinched at their own outburst. “Sorry. Sorry, but Chryses, you weren’t there. Phoenix, you remember how it was—they turned so fast. Maybe they’re not bad all the time, but they’re quick to form a mob.”

“That’s true,” Phoenix said slowly, trying to give himself the time to think of a rebuttal, “They could turn on us. But the last time that happened, you were able to redirect them pretty easily. We all escaped, and no one got hurt. And that was when there were only four of us—you, me, Dad, and Cyrus. How much easier do you think it will be if all of us are together?”

“They’ll know where we live. There won’t be anywhere to escape to.” Silver hugged themselves tightly. “I’m scared. And I don’t think I can joke it away this time.”

“I’m not sure I want life to change either,” Chryses admitted, “I was hurting already; it’s terrifying to think about how it could get worse.” He took a deep breath. “But what if life gets better? What if Ghost can grow up like a normal kid, something we never had? What if we can find a healer that will be able to stop Steven’s seizures? What if Darius and the owl lady really do have a solution for Phoenix’s curse? What if—if one of the townspeople becomes your best friend?”

“It’s going to be a hard step,” Phoenix agreed, “but we have to take it. We’ll figure out the change. We’ll keep compromising until we can all find somewhere comfortable. But we will make it. All of us.”

Compromise.

And just like that, Phoenix knew what we had to say to Darius.

“We’ll make it,” Silver echoed, “Maybe… maybe we could still build something out here. A safe house, in case home is compromised. Just in case. But stay near town.”

“We could at least ask Novus to add a secret room to the plans,” Chryses added, “Somewhere to hide out.”

“Box.”

All three grimwalkers twisted to look at Ghost, who proudly presented a filthy stone cube to Phoenix. An eye marked the surface, and a crack ran around the edge—the lid. Phoenix took the cube from Ghost—he’d never seen it before, but it looked important. Maybe Evelyn or Caleb would know what it was. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Wecom.” Ghost pointed to the trees. “All done. Home now?”

Silver crouched down next to them, “What about home here? Do you remember home here?”

Ghost eyed the rubble distastefully. “Home now,” they repeated, pointing firmly at the path, “Bye.”

They tugged on Phoenix’s crutch, and he shrugged apologetically. “I guess I better take them back to Darius’ house.”

Silver stood in a daze. “I guess so.” They smiled wanly. “Thanks for coming out here to find me. I think… I think you’re right. I think we’re taking steps in the right direction. Small steps.” Silver ruffled Ghost’s hair with a bigger grin, one that looked much more like them. “Perhaps even one could say… baby steps.”

Phoenix groaned, but a laugh burst out of Chryses’ throat. Silver’s head whipped around, a delighted grin plastered across their face.

“I got you?!”

“That was terrible.”

“But you laughed.”

“But I laughed.”

On the ride home, Phoenix idly pulled out his Penstagram scroll.

16 messages.

“Oh, titan.”

The most recent message was from Hunter, and was filled with so many misspellings and random capitalizations, Phoenix didn’t even try to read it. He handed it to Silver, who squinted at the screen, mouthing silently to themselves.

“He says that Darius says to check your messages. I think.”

Phoenix hissed, opening the other 15 messages. They’d been sent within minutes of each other, one at a time. Most of the first few were short, only a few words, but they got longer as time went on, before switching back to short messages.

Where are you?

Did you leave the house?

Are you in town?

Phoenix, where did you go?

Let me know where you went—Eda says you’re not with her.

Are you okay? Did something happen?

Phoenix, are you in danger? Where are you?

Why aren’t you answering?

Caleb says to ask if Ghost is with you. He and Evelyn are worried.

They just did a head count, and they want to know if you’re with Silver and Chryses as well.

Phoenix, I swear to titan, you better not have disappeared again.

Do not make me call Eberwolf to track you down. He’ll make fun of me.

Phoenix, can you answer?

Please tell me you’re alright

Please come back to us

Sick sadness settled in the pit of Phoenix’s stomach, and his arms shifted sluggishly in response. He hadn’t meant to be gone long enough to worry Darius—he’d just been chasing after Chryses and had forgotten to tell anyone where he was going. He leaned back against the transport worm, closing his eyes. The walk to the house and back had left a deep weariness settled in his bones. Phoenix had chalked up his recent exhaustion to how fast everything had moved since he’d run from the Collector, but he’d had plenty of rest and good food now that they’d finally come to a stop. Still, it took so much energy to do things now, and he wondered if it was extra strain from the crutches, or the curse. Maybe some combination of the two.

The worm came to a stop in Bonesborough, and Phoenix hurried back to Darius’ house. Darius paced back and forth outside, his shoulders sagging in relief when he caught sight of Phoenix.

“Don’t disappear on me like that again,” he scolded, “I thought you’d—you’d—”

“Belos is gone,” Phoenix reminded him gently.

“The curse isn’t! You can’t tell me about the time you eloped to the woods half wild in the middle of a boiling rainstorm and then expect me not to worry when you disappear!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.” Phoenix caught Darius’ arms. “Look—Darius. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m still here—look, I’m still here.”

“You’re still here,” Darius repeated. “Hunter—Phoenix. Please don’t leave again.”

He wasn’t just talking about today.

“Change is terrifying,” Phoenix said softly, “I know you’re afraid we’ll drift apart. I know you want to keep me close so that nothing bad will happen again.”

“The last few times I’ve let you out of my sight, you’ve nearly been killed. Is it so bad I want you to stay here?”

“They’re my family.” Phoenix squeezed Darius’ shoulders. “But so are you. I want to stay close—so how about a compromise.”

“A compromise?”

“Share. Once the house is built, I’m going to live with Caleb and Evelyn.”

Darius’ ears drooped, and Phoenix gave him a small shake.

“Hey, I’m not done. I’m going to live with Caleb and Evelyn on the weekdays. But I’ll stay with you on the weekends. And once Ghost is school age? I’ll take them to Hexside, and I’ll stop by every day. You’ll be absolutely sick of me.”

“Never,” Darius said fiercely, “That could never happen.”

“Joking aside… would that be okay? I know it isn’t exactly what you wanted, but it’s the best I can think of.”

“I think I can live with that.” Darius gave Phoenix a small smile. “Thank you.”

Phoenix hugged him, and Darius froze for a second, before patting him awkwardly on the back. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being so affectionate.”

Phoenix pulled back. “Sorry. Should have asked.” He pulled back. “Do you know where Caleb is? I should probably let him know we’re all back.”

“Likely pacing indoors. I think Evelyn was about ready to create another scrying spell.”

Phoenix winced. The moment the five of them walked indoors, Evelyn scooped Ghost up, plastering kisses all over their face.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she scolded them, and turned a stink-eye on Phoenix. “Some heads-up that you’d taken the toddler with you would have been nice. You’re old enough that I trust you to take care of yourself. They’re not.”

“Sorry. I didn’t even realize they were following me.” Phoenix held out the stone cube that Ghost had unearthed. “Do you recognize this? They found it at the house.”

Evelyn took the box with a frown. “It’s not mine. And it’s not Caleb’s. Where did they find it?”

“Digging around, I suppose? They were…” Phoenix made a mental map of the house. “…where the kitchen used to be.”

“Hm. The kitchen isn’t an add-on—this box must have been buried underneath the original foundations of the house and gotten shaken up when the Collector destroyed everything.” Evelyn turned the box over in her hands. “It’s a puzzle, I think. I’ll throw it to Sam to solve. He’s been itching for something to do. Or Novus, if Sam can’t.” She shook her head. “It’s odd, though. I could have sworn we were the first people out there. The land seemed untouched when we made our home. No signs of civilization until you hit town.”

Phoenix frowned to match. “But if you, Caleb, and Achsah were the first people out there…who buried the box?”

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #my writing #gilded family au #golden guard oc #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne

15 notes · View notes

notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

Philopator ~ Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader (Angst)

Summary: When Michael presents his offer to Tommy for a restructuring of the company, he mentions his daughter - after all, she is already involved, even if Tommy doesn’t know it yet

Note: Thank you for the request, anon - I hope you like it. This is my first time writing Tommy in this way and I've chosen S5 Tommy..-in this, Tommy’s daughter is ~ 15 (the child he conceived before the war) Here is my [Masterlist].

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: Expect canon confirming tone, language and depiction of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Request: Please can I request a Tommy x daughter reader where she keeps rebelling and he finds it really difficult?

Wordcount: 4115

Water was running down the outside of the old pipe of the factory building right next to her. It could have been a distraction but her eyes were too focused on the scene in front.

There, Isaiah was perfecting the art of acting- truly. He should be up on a stage, or on the movie scene, perhaps. He had the looks too, and not just the skill, not that she’d ever admit it.

But he was good, almost too good.

He kept his face a complete mask, without any trace of emotion, of mercy.

“So, you thought you could steal from the Peaky Blinders, did you?”, he asked the factory front man in front of him, tsking as if he was scolding a child. As if this was nothing but a minor discrepancy.

“Not stealin’, Sir, no, not stealin’, jus’ not tellin’ all, Sir!”, he babbled, bubbles of saliva forming at the corner of his mouth, his eyes wide with fear.

Pathetic, (Y/N) thought.

She had soon learned that it was never good to let emotions show on her face, not outside. It would only show her weakness.

She had inherited her mask along with her name, from the man who had shaped them both.

But she had inherited more than just that, and she licked her lips in anticipation as Isaiah hummed, pacing up and down in front of him.

“Just out of curiosity,”, he began, “what did you think would happen if we found out about your little…side hustle?”

He stretched the words out beautifully, just like she had told him too. But she had told him more.

It was like a dance, really - one always knew which steps the other person might take, but in this, for once, she led and not the man tied up on the floor. And not Isaiah either.

After all, she was the Shelby here.

“They’d…they’d take me eyes.”, he stammered.

Bingo, (Y/N) thought, knowing Isaiah’s voice and her words had created the perfect assist.

Isaiah, ever the professional, didn’t even glance at her as he continued.

Chuckling softly, he shook his head.

“Taking the eyes, eh? Is that really what you thought? What you feared?”

All colour faded from the man’s face as his eyes widened.

“No?”

Averting his eyes, he shook his head frantically.

“B-but Sir, it wasn’t much…I’ll pay you back, I swear I will, I’ll do anything, I swear…please don’t…please, please don’t-”

He hiccuped pathetically and coughed up a mixture of saliva and phlegm as his desperate babbling continued

Bingo, (Y/N) thought.

“I’ll do anything, Sir, please!”, he begged.

“Anything, eh?”, Isaiah asked.

“I swear I will - I’ll never do it again. I’ll do anything…”

With that, they had him.

Isaiah instructed him that he would give them all the names of everyone involved in exchange for his life.

He not only gave them those names but also those of workers who had done as much as mutter a word against the Shelbys.

Isaiah left his men to take care of it and walked out, (Y/N) closely on his heels with her head lowered and the peaked cap pulled far into her face, leaving little to be seen and almost nothing to be recognised.

Once the car doors closed, Isaiah dropped his facade, glancing at her through the window.

"Well done, (Y/N). Just like you'd predicted."

She had earned her smile as the car sprung to life.

"What can I see? People fear nothing more than their own imagination. Nothing we could ever do or say would scare them more than their own nightmares."

As she spoke she reached for the bag she had brought with her when Isaiah had picked her up earlier.

In it she found all she would need- a small mirror, a brush and a clip for her hair, a light blue dress and heels polished to perfection.

"Straight to the location?", He asked as (Y/N) slipped out of the waistcoat and suspenders and pulled the shirt out of Finn's old trousers, while kicking off the old marred shoes.

"Yes. I'd hate to be late."

Charlie was so proud of his concert and she wouldn't miss it for the world.

During the drive she got changed, did her hair and even applied a little bit of the lipstick Lizzie had gotten her for her sixteenth birthday, behind her father's back of course.

He could disapprove, but knowing him, he wouldn't show.

Isaiah helped clasp her pearl necklace before sending her off.

"I'll see what I can do about the paperwork.", She told him, instructing him to have it dropped off as the house.

As always, he would slip it in between the pages of a fashion catalogue so that Frances and the maids wouldn't get suspicious.

A scrawny young boy had climbed into the car with him, with scratched shoes and torn trousers, a shirt too large for him and a peaked cap with razor blades sewn inside.

Out stepped a young lady with lace gloves and pearl earrings.

But so was the life of (Y/N) Shelby.

Her heels, imported from Paris, clicked on the steps to the concert hall where all the children from the most expensive music school Birmingham had to offer, would perform one by one.

It wasn't difficult to find their seats. They were, after all, the best in the house.

Ruby saw her first, waving at her excitedly.

(Y/N) couldn't help but beam at her little sister as she opened her arms for her to rush into.

She had loved both her siblings, but with Charlie excitement about his arrival had been laced by a sense of dread.

She had feared her father would not love her anymore, now, with a new baby, and a boy at that.

But she had loved Charlie from the moment she had seen him- with his round cheeks and bright eyes and nothing but love to give.

Barely a year after he had been born they had been alone, two orphans in a big house with no trace of their father and just maids and servants to keep them company.

She had sworn to him one of the nights where he had only calmed down after screaming himself to exhaustion that no matter what happened, they'd always have each other.

Because both their mothers were dead and their father was gone.

"Are you excited, Charlie?", She asked, stroking over his nearly combed hair.

"My tummy feels funny.", He admitted.

"That's alright.", She told him. "I know you'll be great."

That made him smile slightly.

"I told you not to lift Ruby!", Lizzie told her impatiently, taking her from her arms. "It'll ruin your back!"

"It's not ruined yet.", She assured her with a grin.

Lizzie clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"When you're forty and hurting with every step, you'll think of me, mark my words.", She said, before guiding her to their seats- the best in the house of course.

"I want to sit on (Y/N)'s lap!", Ruby insisted, climbing onto her knees as soon as she had sat down.

Lizzie decided not to argue, instead smoothing down a spot she had missed on the back of her head.

They all clapped politely when the teachers made the introduction and the concert began.

As child after child went to showcase their prowess on the piano, flute or violin, (Y/N) let her mind wander to what else Isaiah had told her.

She already had an idea but she'd need to think about it more, and to gather a bit more information before telling him what to do.

But she banned all thoughts of smuggling when it was Charlie's turn, clapping until her hands ached even before he had started.

His eyes found them and all three of them gave him reassuring smiles.

"Good luck!", Lizzie mouthed.

Charlie began to play that song they had heard more than a thousand times in the last few weeks, accompanied by his teacher on the piano.

Each note he hit set of a firework inside of her, spreading tingling pride all throughout her body as she watched her little brother.

She'd have cheered even if he had played so bad that the windows shattered but he really was perfect and so every bit of her cheering was deserved.

Charlie seemed equally relieved and proud as he smiled at them once he was done, enjoying the clapping not nearly as much as seeing their faces.

"Again.", Ruby demanded as soon as the clapping had died down, making laughter erupt from the audience of other siblings and parents.

"Today he only plays it once.", She explained, giving Ruby a little squeeze.

"Why?", She demanded to know. "At home he always plays it more times!"

To celebrate, they went out for cake and on the way back, Ruby fell asleep with her head in her lap, while Charlie couldn't stop talking about his concert and how much fun he had had.

She handed Ruby over to Lizzie as they got out of the car and immediately went up to her bedroom, remembering what she had promised to Isaiah.

The room she called her own was facing neither towards the carefully laid out gardens nor the path back to the village, but towards the woods, with their age old trees and treacherous shadows.

To her it was a more welcome view than any fountain or rose bush could ever be.

Her father had originally given her these two connected rooms- one bedroom and a playroom.

But since she had turned the playroom into a small sitting room of her own, that and an office, complete with a desk and her own telephone connection from the main line.

The shelves in the library were covered with novels, poetry, dramas and above all history and science books.

History had never been her subject, not when men had tried to drill it into her.

Once she had learned it herself, it stuck.

But she cared little about Wellington, about Henry V and VII and their battles, about Richard III and his crusades, about Caesars and Alexanders- even if she had enjoyed the episode where he had claimed and tamed his legendary horse.

Her history consisted of Elizabeth, of Maria Theresia, of Telesilla of Argos and Penthesilea, of Sappho, Hatchepsut, Eleanor of Aquitaine and Kaiserin Adelaide, and even tales about the political women of the United States.

And their images graced her space, either as paintings on the wall, or even the miniature bust of Cleopatra VII that stood on her desk, her most proudest possession. The sharp and ever watching eyes of Egypt’s last Goddess-Pharao reminded her that one needed more than beauty if one hoped to govern a kingdom.

She found comfort in the stories of those women who had once been forgotten and overlooked girls like she was, with the world trying to dumb them down with dress fittings and meaningless conversations.

And they had all become greater than anyone would ever have anticipated.

(Y/N) drew strength from that and hope too- for her own future.

Besides, she thought, as her eyes went to one of the portraits she had, no one in the world had known of Sophie of Anhalt-Zerbst.

At first, at least.

Just like she had expected, the catalogue had been delivered in the usual closed envelope.

Taking her letter opener, she tore it open and slipped it out, but before she could flick it open, she heard a knock on the door.

"Yes?", She asked, slipping the catalogue in the top drawer and twisting the key.

It was one of the maids who had informed her that Finn was on the main line for her.

"Apparently, it's about a certain horse race?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

Neither Finn, nor Isaiah would say these words without cause.

If something was about a horse race, it meant one thing and one thing only- an absolute catastrophe that meant immediate attention. It meant that the gun had already been fired and they, meaning she, had to react fast.

"Put him through.", She asked her, her hand hovering over the hearer before she had left.

The second it began to make noise, she ripped it up.

"What is it?", She demanded to know, hearing Finn's heavy panting.

"He knows!", He exclaimed breathlessly, as if he had raced to the telephone. "The meeting went horribly wrong. Michael offered a restructuring of the company, and himself in your father's stead. Tommy got so angry, I thought he'd cut him but-"

Finn stumbled over his words as he hurried to speak.

"Michael told him and Arthur that their time was over. He talked of a new generation, (Y/N)! Fuck!"

She could feel the blood rushing in her ears. But she had to focus.

"What did he say, Finn? I need to know exactly what he said!"

After all, she needed to know precisely what charges would be laid against her, what she would have to deny.

"That Finn would be part of the next generation, a new generation of Shelbys with Michael at the helm. And with you already running the streets, it would be a smooth transition anyways."

(Y/N) spun, the hearer slipping out of her hand and crashing into the mahogany desk surface.

Her father was standing on the other side of the desk, the polished wood creating a no-man’s-land between them.

His piercing pale blue eyes locked in on her the same way a hawk would narrow in on his prey, but his face betrayed nothing.

"Dad!", She gasped, glancing around and realising that he had closed the door behind him, having twisted the knob so that no one from the outside would be able to enter.

"My daughter.", He said slowly, his voice as cold and rough freshly split marble, drawing the words out as if he was savouring it in a sick, twisted way, "running the streets of Birmingham."

(Y/N) Shelby felt her face burn, which was strange, because she also felt ice spread through her entire body, freezing her to the spot while her father just stared at her.

“I told you,”, he said, his hands buried deeply in his pockets, with only his emotions hidden deeper, “Small Heath is off limits.”

She swallowed hard. That had been a ludicrous rule. She had been born there, had grown up there. It had been her home for almost half her life, and it was where her roots were.

“I told you to start behaving respectably, just like they teach you at that fucking school.”

At the mention of that institution, she almost winced. It was a girl’s school, highly recommended, with the single goal of manufacturing the next generation of aimable, breedable, respectable young ladies - but she was a Shelby, first and last, and no amount of lessons, scoldings and punishments would ever persuade, manipulate or beat it out of her. She’d rather die.

“I told you,”, he continued, “no fraternising with the foot soldiers.”

The way he said it made her want to slap him. Those weren’t foot soldiers, they weren’t even really soldiers - they were friends, family even and hearing her father dismiss them so cut deeper than a freshly sharpened blade.

“So you lie to my face and go behind my back.”

He clicked his tongue.

“Running the streets eh? Out with Isaiah Michael tells me.”

By his tone one could almost think he was mocking her, but she knew better than to think it was just that.

She knew it was something far sinister.

“I can explain.”, she said, but she didn’t get further as her father’s voice cracked through the room like a whip.

“No you fucking can’t!”, he roared, his hand flying out of his pocket with his finger pointing at her as something snapped inside of him. “There is no explanation, no reason in the fucking world!”

His tone had made her flinch, but that wasn’t enough to make him stop.

“You,”, he spat, “out in the fucking streets of Birmingham, looking for what, eh? Eh?”

He had gotten so loud, (Y/N) only hoped Ruby and Charlie were downstairs. If they were in the day nursery playing, they’d undoubtedly hear him.

“Looking for some excitement, are we? Some rebellion?”

“No-”, she tried to argue.

“This is Lizzie’s fault.”, he said, cutting her off as he began to shake his head like a mad man. “I told her, I fucking told her to keep you in line and this is what I get for it. Me own fucking daughter slumming around in the streets of Birmingham like some third class whore.”

“You keep her out of it!”, she ordered, her voice reaching a slightly higher pitch than it usually would.

He only snorted, glaring at her with a strange mixture of disgust and rage and in that very second, (Y/N) realised it was hate.

But instead of feeling hurt, the anger that had accusation against Lizzie had ignited in her only spread, rising to an inferno that threatened to consume all around her.

“After everything I’ve done for her, for you - for this fucking family.”

“Don’t you talk about family, Dad!”, she hissed through clenched teeth.

He froze in his tracks, all colour fading from his cheek.

“What’d you say?”, he said under his breath. “What did you fucking say?”

She swallowed hard, realising that the line had been crossed, but she refused to back down.

Not this time, Dad.

“You always talk about family, but you know nothing about family, not about this one.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed, like those of a wolf about to bear his fangs ready to sink them into his prey, but her anger drowned out any sign of fear.

“Don’t I?”, he asked, raising his eyebrow and for a split second she wished he hadn’t done that, but she was too angry to let it change her course.

“What’s the name of the piece Charlie played at his concert?”, she asked.

“I wasn’t fucking there.”, he spat.

That made her chuckle in the most agonising way.

“He’s only been practising it for the last three months.”

That and nothing but so that they were all sick of it really, or would have been, if Charlie hadn’t been so proud.

“They all sound the fucking same.”

If you aren’t bothered to listen, maybe.

“What’s the name of Ruby’s teddy?”, she said.

“Why would I care about a toy?”, he asked through clenched teeth.

“Because she cares about it!”, she snapped back. “She cares about it so much she can’t fall asleep without it.”

That was the reason why Lizzie, Frances and (Y/N) had spent three hours searching the gardens in the pouring rain so she could get it back.

“Everything,”, he said, his voice dangerously low, but it didn’t stay low long, “everything in this fucking house in all your fucking lives is because of me so don’t you tell me what I have or haven’t done for this family. I do everything for this family!”

His eyes flashed once more, as if behind them the gates of purgatory had opened.

“You,”, he roared, pointing at her once more, “you don’t get to talk to be like that, not when I went through hell for this family - for you!”

Usually that would have shamed her into silence. She had already been born when the war had started, too young to remember the man that had vowed to return to the motherless child he had fathered by accident, but she had remembered the aftermath.

But they had gone too far to return to usually, the both of them. And there was no path remaining but forward.

Her own voice was loud enough to equal his.

“And why do you think I help Isaiah and Finn? Why do you think I solve their problems? Why tell them what to do?”, she screamed back at him, her treacherous eyes burning with tears.

“So you don’t have to!”

It had happened by accident. After a long day, which came after a long week she had seen her father asleep in his office chair when she had been on her way to fetch something to drink in the middle of the night and saw the lamp still burning.

But soon she had seen the headlight of the approaching cars, which had carried Finn with news of some irregularities in the books they noticed.

She had offered to give the papers so that Finn could go home and he, frightened of the reaction of his older brother in light of his mistake, had agreed.

And yet, (Y/N) hadn’t wanted to wake her father, not when he was finally sleeping so she had sat down at her schooling desk until she had figured out just where the problem lay. It was all too write some instructions up on Lizzie’s typewriter and fake her father’s signature.

Isaiah had been the one who had caught her out, but he too preferred her solution to her father’s wrath.

That had been the beginning, but by now Isaiah came to her not only with problems, but with weekly reports and they worked together on ideas how to make things more efficient, easier and better.

It had worked for nearly a year.

Tommy Shelby’s lips twisted into a grimace mocking a smile.

“Yeah.”, he scoffed. “Like you know the first thing about running the streets.”

The same way you know the first thing about this family, she thought, glaring at him.

“If that’s the case then why are you even bothered?”, she asked, not bothering to hide the condescension in her voice.

If he could do it, so could she.

His jaw twitched dangerously once more.

“I should send you to those fucking nuns in Switzerland.”, he snarled.

That frightened her more than his anger had done. The thought of being sent away, to some monastery school up in the mountains in the middle of nowhere without her friends, without her family - without anyone that knew her made her stomach coil.

“Lizzie won’t let you!”, she argued.

She had promised her that when he had threatened her with it the last time around, when she had gotten a little drunk perhaps on the whisky he had lying around everywhere.

“I am your father and you will do as I tell you!”, he spat.

Without a moment’s hesitation he reached to the side of her desk and grabbed the telephone, pulling not just at the apparatus but at the cord as well until he tore it out of the wall, chipping the wooden panelling.

It sent half the contents of her desk flying, scattering the letter paper, tipping over the picture frame of her and her siblings, and toppling the likeness of the last Queen of Egypt.

“You will stay here while I decide what to do with you. In this room, in this house.”

While he still fought to gather the cord of the telephone in his grip, she rolled off of the edge of the table.

She dented the ground, but it wasn’t enough to break her fall.

With a thud and a crash, the image of Cleopatra VII Philopator shattering into a thousand little white pieces, spread over the floor like the first snow on a winter’s day.

And with it shattered more than just her anger as tears burned in her eyes she only hoped Thomas Shelby would not see.

“You know what?”, she asked, when he was already halfway out of her room and to her surprise, he stopped to turn at her.

She met his eyes, her eyes, the Shelby eyes - blue and pale and piercing, as unyielding as they were cold.

“Sometimes I’m glad that I am the only one who has these memories with you.”

(Y/N) did not know whether it was the sudden softness of her tone or the words she had said, but confusion began to wash out her father’s anger, not completely of course, for that he was too suspicious and too smart.

“Because at least Charlie and Ruby won’t ever know what it’s like to miss you the way I have to.”

Not even a single muscle in his face twitched, not a single sign he even cared, but it didn’t surprise her. She had known that long before she had dared to admit it, and all this while she had still held onto some form of foolish, childish hope.

But she could see that hope now, in the shattered ruins of what had once been her prized possession.

“Hell,”, she said, her voice just as void of emotion as Tommy Shelby’s face was, “Ruby doesn’t even have a Dad she could miss, even if she wanted to.”

End

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind!

Taglist

Overall

Tommy

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy @books-livre @chlorrox @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore

@knowledgefulbutterfly

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #valentineswritings #valentinesrequests #philopator #tommy shelby & daughter reader

373 notes · View notes

transboysokka · 6 months

Note

This is a big ask so don't feel like you have to, but would you be interested in pitching some summaries of the fics you have up on Ao3? I know there are summaries up there, but I like the casual way you have with words and you say fuck a lot and I dunno yeah

omg this is so funny bc i know the exact way with words you're talking about and of course im not gonna pass up a chance to promote my own work hehe YOU GOT IT!

i have 20 atla fics so I'm going to recommend them in order of... least to most kudos??? to try to trick people into reading more of my stuff? lol idk

I'm 99% sure all of these are Zukka fics...

The Last Five Years - ok actually this is a bad place to start bc i don't think im gonna finish it. it just really didn't take off but um its a The Last Five Years AU with really fucking sad Divorced Zukka

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Cry - this is i think my newest one, it has trans zukka and it's a bit angsty with a fake death but i also think it's kind of fun. it's the idea trans people have of ''who's going to care if my family puts the wrong name on my gravestone?" but there IS a happy ending

A Problem Halved is a Problem Shared - im gonna be honest i dont fucking remember writing this one lol but it says dialogue-only and it WILL be angsty bc it is about zuko and sokka dealing with different issues they have

One Last Time (and its sequel The End of All Things) - Actually OLT is definitely one of my faves I ever wrote. It's my canon-compliant take on um... *cough* Sokka's death, referenced in Korra. It's SO angsty but it has one of the most visceral scenes I've ever written and I DID cry writing this. TEoAT is the happy ending Divorced Zukka deserved with bonus Iroh but you WILL cry reading that too. BUT i cant fucking recommend these ones enough!!!!

If I fade away (the awful things we do to make the head go quiet) - VERY dead dove. trans zuko needs to pay a MASSIVE price to get home to the Fire Nation after Ba Sing Se, and it's not his choice at all. I love this but READ WITH CAUTION

In Which Sokka is Supportive Ally Boyfriend Goals - I am dead serious i like dont remember this one at all but i know it has trans zuko!

Nourishing the Flame Within - not the best written tbhtbh BUT it does have two very important Zukos in it that I hold to be universally true: trans zuko and eating disorder zuko

bad idea right? - okay this is DEF one of my faves lol its about divorced zukka but they just cant stop messing things up and sleeping with each other even though theyre not together anymore lolol

Keeping it in the Family - lmao OKAY SO this is the ONE version of zukka that im like 'ok all u z*tara folks, maybe zuko WAS with her and it obvs didnt work' and then he hooks up with sokka instead and its GREAT but oops now we have Family Drama

Scars of Trust - bro im not gonna like i barely remember writing this one but i remember I LOVE IT and it's about sokka who has been dating zuko a while but he finally learns that zuko is trans? its great

Playing the Long Game - eh, i don't love it, but I'd say it's worth a read. it was my first longer fic in the fandom. it DOES have a great Zukki evolution though if you're into that, and a nice mystery!! Also some whump and angst bc of course

Keeping Score - I liked this one! It's just little snippets of times Sokka has survived assassination attempts, because we always hear about it happening to Zuko, but Sokka gets them too. Angst obviously

It Was Cruel and It Was Wrong - wow, a dead dove fic, yes. It's basically like "If I'm Joo Lee and you're Joo Lee, then who's flying the bison?" Yeah so Sokka and Zuko are both brainwashed by the Dai Lee and Suffering but be careful because this gets DARK

Mother - Izumi has two dads but she feels bad she doesn't have a mom. But guess what, her dads don't have moms either!! She's very happy to find that out! Wow Izumi, way to have some sympathy.

Impact - It's about Zuko taking a longer time to recover from an assassination attempt than he'd want, and Sokka being loving and patient with him! I wrote this when I had a bad concussion for like three weeks and so it's pretty like. Medically accurate lol

Scratchy - Short and sweet. I don't remember this one much but I know that it is fluffy and involves turtle ducks!

Hidden Pain, Shared Love - Another short and fluffy one. It's about the first time Zuko sees that Sokka has problems with his leg sometimes?

Zuko and Sokka Get Engaged in the Most Zukka Way Possible - okay i actually really love this one because it's on brand and cute and also i made it fucking angsty because oF COURSE

Zuko Amongst the Dragons - yes so what if zuko was raised by dragons and met the gaang but he was super feral? and what if shenanigans ensued? AND what if sokka and zuko fell in love anyway????

#quesTian #Anonymous #fic #fic recs #atla #zukka #divorced zukka #trans zuko #trans zukka

39 notes · View notes

dulcewrites · 1 year

Text

I have random Baela and Rhaena thoughts. This is probably discombobulated lmao 😭

As much as I am looking forward to (and very much hoping for) more scenes/lines for rhaena and baela, it is personally going to be so… bittersweet (??) to watch them be involved in a war where imo they gain nothing by Rhaenyra winning. And knowing how reading seems to not be fundemental in this fandom, no this is not me saying it would make sense for them to fight for team green. Though if Alicent followed through on what she said to Rhaenys, they’d have driftmark but that’s neither here nor there I guess.

Especially if we go strictly by show canon. They are THEE dragon twins essentially offered up to legitimized two boys bc that’s all Rhaenyra has at that moment (before viserys swoops in again). She tried with Alicent, who shot her down knowing that Helaena, Dreamfyre, and possible children she would have with Jace would be used as leverage.

I would get it more if it was for family reasons or even personal ambitions (Baela being queen. Though her children would quite literally be put in the same position Rhaenyra’s kids are. If they even got that far💀). But imo nothing in the show depicts that. They try to show them having some sort of affection with Luke and Jace; still don’t know if that is romantic or sibling wise. Either way, I’m supposed to believe it’s enough?? If the fight is for Rhaenyra, they did a bad job showing that too and frankly it would not make sense. If it is for daemon that’s… a choice.

Something about Baela being ‘just like daemon’ but sitting and smiling nicely while Rhaenyra takes her birthright just kind of makes me laugh 😭. Like I said, I could possibly understand this decision if we got shades of Baela wanting to be queen. She seems pretty devoted to her grandmother and wards at Driftmark, it is just hard for me to think she in particular would be over the moon about Luke being lord of the tides. Regardless of if she sees him as family or not.

I am someone who will always advocate for more women on the show, especially women from a different social/economic background from the noble ones we got in s1. So if they choose to make Sara Snow a real person, there won’t be any real qualms out of me about it (unless they write her weird lol). But ngl it will be hard watching Baela fight, quite literally, while jace is away possibly falling in love and Rhaenyra sits on her butt at dragonstone. And daemon is away grooming another young girl???

Like who and what are they fighting for!!!

Oh, don’t even get me started on how Rhaena gets absolutely nothing out of this, and honestly nothing from the people who are supposed to take care of her. I just think they both got the short end of the stick, at least during the war. Which I guess is the point of it all. Casualties and people going through strife for a stupid throne but yeah.. I’m just kind of eh about watching that unfold.

#I don’t know what to tag this bc I truly do not want to argue 😭#*tamara judge voice* THIS IS MY OPINION #anti daemon targaryen #anti rhaenyra targaryen #I guess #anti lucerys velaryon #anti Jacaerys velaryon #just in case #anti rhaenys targaryen #too maybe idk

93 notes · View notes

littleeyesofpallas · 6 months

Text

Not to be a weirdo and go all anime tiddy detective(again...) but I've been seeing my awkwardly salvaged Gigi/Senjumaru post getting notes, and among other issues i have with how that post wound up I do feel like I didn't actually articulate my characterization of Senjumaru's design very clearly.

Kubo's got certain sensibilities about his character design. Usually i get fixated on his love of dramatic "crazy face" and the fandom at large fixates on that one big breasted body type he knows the fans love, but he also has a pretty robust cast of modestly proportioned girls. That being said, he walks a line on that, and is very deliberate in making sure to always remind everyone that his small breasted characters do still have a noticeable chest. It's a little weird but it's pretty specific because you'd think it would be easy enough to let their silhouette flatten out for the sake of simplicity, or speed, or just because sometimes a camera angle won't naturally emphasize the bust, yet time and again he stays consistent on it in a way that predicates intent.

Also worth noting in the context of things here, Isane sort of implicitly binds on account of otherwise conflicting omake details vs her strict canon appearances. Unohana implicitly binds due to her traditional style of dress that fundamentally includes flattening out the chest silhouette. AND YET in the face of those facts they're still drawn to show distinct curvature to the chest line. Rukia, Hinamori, and Shino are all generally infantilized as a part of their design aesthetic, Rukia passing as a 15yo, Hinamori being demure and doll-like(ala her name), and Shino being part of an expressly younger generation than the heroes when she's introduced. They're still drawn with noticeable breasts: moreover there is every opportunity to just entirely lose their silhouettes to the featureless blackness of the shinigami uniform, and Kubo goes back in with the white ink anyway. SuiFeng and Hiyori actually both nearly dodge this by wearing clothes that do actually obscure their body shape, but then Kubo seemingly compensates for that modesty by giving Sui Feng her sideboob outfit when she throws off her haori(and its apparent attached sleeves?), and giving Hiyori almost out of place cleavage(well, that and almost constant midriff shots)

Point again being that these are characters with distinctly small breasts, for whom one should imagine no one would be up in arms about being drawn without some subtle bumps in theri chest line, and yet Kubo still does not miss the detail...

So with that intentionality in mind, the fact that he then went out of his way to... I don't want to call it "cleverly"... but eh... """cleverly""" avoid drawing attention to Giselle's chest by putting her in an oversized top, and even changing its design around the sleeves, and subsequently part of her silhouette(she was slightly curvier, and her outfit was less fluffy in her early appearances?), as her "reveal" chapter got closer, becomes a noticeably meaningful choice. In particular in proximity to the "reveal."

And you know who else he seemed to have taken similar care in how he drew? Shutara Senjumaru. And granted, as i prefaced this whole post with facetiousness, not as insulation but as disclaimer, this is a ridiculous angle of approach. it's a ridiculous premise. the evidence and logic underpinning every step of it is dumb, but in spite of any of that, Shurata's silhouette jumped out and grabbed me from her very first appearance. The line from her neck/shoulder down to her waist is unlike how he's drawn any other flat chested/small breasted shinigami. And that comes in conjunction with the rest of her aesthetic:

She is dressed like something between a Geisha: high class personal entertainer, a Tayu or Oiran: a high class prostitute, or a Kabuki actor who could likely be playing a character styled after or explicitly in the role of either.

Obviously her most striking feature is the bizarre headdress, which appears to be made of kanzashi[簪]: a rather broad category of hair accessories typical of geisha and oiran.

She appears to be wearing two exaugurated pins to create the shape of a crescent moon with what look like they would be the sort of hanging elements of a bira-bira kanzashi; meaning that each of those vertical bars hanging from the underside of the moon would be free to swing back and forth from a connecting link or chain(s).

The radiating golden bars from the top I assume would be a kind of hanagushi hair comb, again with obvious exaguration given its size.

And the under hanging radiance being something like miokuri.

It also gives off super distinct vibes of an art movement that I hate that I cannot for the life of pinpoint right now... I want to say it was Spanish colonial(???) that used to specifically carve halos in this style, not as a round solid disc, but as a series of geometric rays... I hate to say that the thing I always think of is how Death Note borrowed it for its pseudo religious imagery. (although I guess the French did it too a bit during the reign of King Louis the XIV, but i always associate it with the mexican art of catholic saints, but I'm not even sure if I'm thinking of the right thing.)

In any case those are motifs or themes that we never get to see explored. boo...

Shutara is however kind of unexpectedly underdressed for a super powered clothier. Her one exterior cloak thing is as bas I can tell not anything real, even ignoring its defiance of gravity. If she were an oiran you would expect more layers, and the distinctive thing i don't know the name for that they hold in front of them and conceals their hands... She does however have the unmistakable oiran raised shoes.

And finally her makeup is a little vague but with relative consistency she's been depicted as extremely pale, which strongly suggests white makeup, typical of unfortunately all three aesthetic culprits, thus not actually narrowing the reference down at all.

Taken then with her theme of clothes and costuming in proximity of theater, the power of clothes/costume and thus presentation and roleplay, Kubo's super distasteful conflation of Giselle's transgender identity as some kind of "disguise" or "deception," kabuki using onnagata --male actors specifically trained in female role performance and upheld and even coveted at times throughout history as an apex of femininity, even above and beyond that of ciswomen-- the fact that Senjumaru is just straight up a masculine name, etc...

Like i said in the other post about all this, which i'm reluctant to even link back to, without any further elaboration it's impossible to say what this actually means for shutara as a character, and any inworld logic that applies. I don't think she is supposed to be a literal actress, like she has some personal history of professional theater training and performance.

That feels like it should be obvious. But understand that while all of this was a pain in the ass to try and lay out explicitly, it's something that, knowing all these disparate factoids already, I didn't actually have to think about at all when I first saw Shutara. I just clocked her as a queer woman immediately. It felt super obvious.

But now for my due diligence.(i actually totally thought there woudl be more of it at first...) Because as confident as I am in my theory, even I can recognize that it is not without holes. For one, entirely outside this pattern is Liltotto, who is actually very consistently drawn without the otherwise ubiquitous indication of AFAB breasts I point out otherwise. And she is certainly given no particular trans coding the way I associate with Gigi and Shutara.

i was going somewhere with this and i forgot... i think i though there dbe a bigger string of tangents to go off and when there werent my brain just kinda fizzled out without drawing a conclusion...

#no im not tagging this one #no one really needs to see it #its just me griping about my old posts #instead of editing them #because my compulsion is fickle in its methods #okay no i lied #bleach meta #if only so itll actually show up in my archive correctly later

29 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

spaceausten

Reylo-Sideblog

mcglouf-blog

Hannah

sinistarz

are they shovels

backyardboytoy

NSFT/W y'all know the drill

northafricaa

🌈