#might randomly post some content for the five people that are still here

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

haven't seen you around in a while, how are you?

ive been through a lot but i have been cursed with flesh and i refuse to allow this bitch of an earth to claim it

#replying #might randomly post some content for the five people that are still here

[strangersteddierthings]

Daily Ficlet 7

I’m challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today’s prompt is recipe book.

-

Steve finds Wayne in the hallway, pulling what items he can from the closet there.

"Need some help?" Steve asks as Wayne struggles with a bigger box that seems wedged in pretty good.

"Sure. Just get yer hands up here and ready to catch," Wayne answers, shimmying the box to and fro while Steve moves to follow his instructions. The box isn't by any means light when it falls into his hands, but it's not the heaviest thing Steve's had to catch -don't think about it, don't think about Eddie's limp body awkwardly shoved through a gate. Don't-

"Thanks, son," Wayne climbs back down the stepladder he was on and takes the box from Steve' hands, walking down the hall to place it on the counter. The front half of the trailer is missing, the gate took it, but a decent amount of of the trailer remains (Eddie's room remains) and the government has finally allowed Wayne to return to pack up what he can.

It's better than starting over completely.

"What's in the box?" Steve asks, because it's the only item Wayne hasn't just demanded he load into the moving truck outside.

"It was supposed to be Eddie's graduation gift," Wayne says softly. "'Suppose it'll have to be a 'glad you woke up from yer coma' gift instead."

"Yeah," Steve says, even if he doesn't believe it. Eddie's been asleep months now. They saved the world, killed Vecna, closed the gates, Max woke up, and the kids have started Sophomore year; Eddie remains comatose. "Can I get a sneak peak at the present?"

"It's not much, and ain't nothin' new," Wayne says, opening the box and beginning the process of pulling things out. It looks a bit like the contents of a hope chest. Things to start living on your own with. Robin's mom has one for her that Steve's seen, and even contributed to. There's an envelope of $500 tucked along the side of Robin's chest.

"This was his grandpa's. My dad's," Wayne says, pulling out a belt buckle. "And my ma made this, not for anyone in particular, mind you, but just because she liked to keep herself busy." It's a blanket, thick and a little scratchy when Steve touches it. "And this. This is the most important." Wayne pulls out a binder from the bottom of the box, handing it over to Steve for inspection.

He takes it carefully even though it looks sturdy. Holding it in one hand, he flips it open. He was thinking maybe it would be a photo album or something but it's not. It looks like a recipe book. All the recipes are hand written on looseleaf paper, with post it notes sticking out randomly. "What makes this special?"

"That's his mom's handwriting," Wayne smiles but he sounds sad. "Eddie lost her when he was five. She got real sick, y'know, and never got better. But she wrote out all them recipes. I'm amazed Al kept the thing, but I guess I shouldn't be. No real value in a binder of recipes 'cept to the people close to the author."

Steve looks back down at the binder. He still has both his parents, however distant they might be, so he doesn't know if he'll ever fully understand the significance of getting this piece of someone back. "Does he not have anything else with her writing on it?"

"No, not writing. We got plenty of things they used to own. Eddie's caseworker let us go through the whole house, after Al'd been shipped off to the penitentiary, to gather anything Eddie might want or need. Was supposed to just be his stuff, mind you, legally speakin', but I think that lady knew if we didn't take other stuff, Eddie'd never see it again.

"So, Eddie's got things that were hers. But nothing that's uniquely hers. There's jewelry, and a coupla blankets, but all that stuff is replaceable and not... Well, I dunno what I'm tryin' to say, but that's just stuff that was hers. But this. This was her. Y'understand?"

And Steve does. There's a difference between having something that belonged to someone once, and something that really feels like them when you hold it. Steve doesn't have anything like that, personally, but he knows there will come a time when the difference matters. When everyone grows up and scatters into the future. He imagines a hand written letter from Dustin will mean much more for him to find after a long time of no contact than it would to find his old Roast Beef t-shirt in the back of a drawer or something, moth bitten and musty.

"I can't wait to find out if Eddie's an angry emotional, or a sad one."

Wayne laughs. "He can be both."

#wayne and steve #daily ficlet #just a lil thing for if eddie lived but didn't like... live #bittersweet #my fic

[surpriserose]

okay lol it took like 5 stories but i found something that reminded me why i dont go on nosleep anymore lol

And a quick content warning/context is that the premise of nosleep is that as readers you have to accept that every story is real, and that as writer you have to have a reason why your narrator is posting on reddit lol and not be too unbelievable or outlandish. So a content warning for unreality is probably safe.

anyways some more context is that nosleep tends to recycle the same five ideas which fair whatever redditors know what they like i guess but on top of that nosleep authors love to take inspiration from current events. like for example another story i just read was inspired by the james webb telescope news and then was also just hellstar remina lol

anyway i think you can see why this is a bad combination when you see a story titled "Hello from Beijing, I believe I'm patient 0 of a future 'zombie' outbreak" by twophonesonepager which is just well....where do you start? content warning if you do read the story there is: sinophobia, viruses, cannibalism/gore, violence against children (nothing too bad happens but still), and self harm/suicide

I think its a pretty accepted idea that oftentimes horror media, because it plays on fear, often reflects our biases and politics as well. I really think its overdue for people to examine online horror media in the same way where its even more apparent. Online horror media has a low barrier of entry, literally anyone can post to nosleep or...is the creepypasta wiki still a thing? And not only is there a low barrier of entry, the approval process is often just well literal approval. If people like your story it becomes popular and entrenched in the culture of the community. thats kind of obvious im not sure im explaining it well, like its the same thing horror movies and books go through but theres no editors or directors in power, its a very democratic process online. So while one story may be written with one author's biases the community can immediately absorb and approve of them in a way that movies can't, you know? Or like... you can't say its as one to one with movies? like paying for a movie doesnt automatically mean you enjoyed it, whereas an upvote on reddit does, you know? hi hello for the love of god okay ill actually talk about the damn thing just keep all this in mind because this shit is sinophobic as hell

so this author is very obviously an NFT bro redditor trying to write as a chinese woman to a non chinese audience. And because of the rules of nosleep you just have to kind of ignore hes really an NFT bro. While this rule makes sense for most stories it more than kind of sucks in stories like these, where while everyone knows the author isnt really a chinese woman everyone has to keep up the facade and no one can push back on the sinophobia because of that facade. Its like...hold on does anyone remember this tweet?

Its like this but because its in nosleep no one can be like hey this is kind of weird that youre writing as a chinese woman and then specifically making points about how she doesnt eat "strange food" and "most people of [her] generation know" that "China is flawed from a political standpoint." and these are things that are way more indicative of how americans and other imperial countries view china than how chinese people might view themselves and also really have no place in this story? same with the author...randomly pointing out this narrator enjoys bondage? which is a lesser problem but. But remember, you can't really say hey what the fuck because then you are being "out of character." And the mods cant really step in because this story got really popular, even having a bunch of paid reddit awards and winning a best story contest in the subreddit.

speaking of rules, since the narrator needs a reason to post on reddit of all places, the reason here is obviously nebulous chinese censorship. im not really going to get into all that except for the fact that this story is paralleling the hysteria about chinese censorship of how bad covid was at the beginning of the pandemic. which just sucks man like that the problem with being like ooooohhhh the scary thing in this story is a mysterious zombie virus from china. like it just ends up reinforcing sinophobic ideas that came from the spread of covid. especially because the other scary thing is that this scary problem isnt being contained, oh no!

also the writing is just bad lol theres no logic (why the fuck are you working? why the fuck would you be allowed to work if you had flu like symptoms even if it wasnt covid in the middle of the pandemic in CHINA??? where they actually care about covid lol) and the writer seems to think shanghai and beijing are the same city? and also they just copied the last of us lol

#hater hours #sinophobia #racism #unreality #long post #ask to tag #im so sorry but writing essays is how i get enrichment in my enclosure

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor

#bnha 308 #midoriya izuku #muscular (bnha) #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

[unalivejournal]

u mentioned only reading kripke era fic do you have a reclist 👀👀👀and if not could you link some of ur faves cuz the stuff that gets circulated the most right now is all like late late seasons fic and kripke era is my favorite too but im having trouble finding that many fics for it or even seasons 6-10 era which im fine with also. its just that like. the last five seasons were so bad that it makes fic generally worse too because people have to jump off of just Thee stupidest plot choices no matter how good their prose skills might be. but anyway yea if u have recs that would be awesome :)

hi anon i was thinking abt making a reclist and u just gave me the perfect excuse thank u

jess adamilligan’s kripke era fic recs

from making this ive learned that i never bookmark ANYTHING. sorry all of these r like….. 10k and under. i DO read longer fic but i don’t have any kripke era longfics bookmarked & tbh i prefer short oneshots

season one gen

disclaimer because it’s unfortunately needed: NONE of these are w*ncest! they’re all completely tagged as gen and i did not read them with the intent of consuming ship content.

Coaster Park by fogsrollingin, 10.4k, G, gen

Coaster Park had been experiencing an unusually high frequency of technical difficulties. Dean wouldn't have pulled a shift treating nauseated, heat-stroked, or dehydrated park-goers for that if he could've helped it, but when 'technical difficulties' were accompanied by rumors of things moving and stopping on their own in front of the operators' eyes, Dean had to throw down.

No historical tragedies or disasters in the area, ectoplasm, or EMF. Dean's only lead was a battered-looking kid that'd been coming to the park every day since it'd all started.

really interesting au fic! slightly ‘it’s a terrible life’. dean winchester is a hunter/EMT and sam wesson is a college kid destined to die on a roller coaster ride.

two basic motivating forces by sahwen, 7.8k, T, gen

He can’t cry, it’s not allowed; even as a child he was hushed into silence, whether his tears were from a long car ride or a late night or a raging fever. It’s never been an option, it’s never been an available outlet, and it’s not about to start being one just because he’s having an emotional breakdown on the bathroom floor.

Sam isn't only afraid of clowns.

BIG emetophobia tw (both for graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting and for the fact that this fic is about sam suffering from emetophobia) for this one but it’s my favorite sickfic. portrays anxiety over getting sick really well and is a fascinating examination of the different ways that sam’s fear of loss of control can manifest itself. also has lovely brothers content <3

Let’s Start at the Very Beginning (Remix of Just as Easy as 123) by nwspaprtaxis, 4k, T, gen

Dean’s functionally illiterate and Sam’s determined to remedy it...

PLEASE READ THIS ONE god it’s so sweet. dean never learned how to read properly due to his nomadic childhood and sam teaches him how.

dean/cas

Broadway Musical by Griftings, 9k, M, m/m

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.

The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.

Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

somewhat of a fandom classic and the humor holds up wonderfully. a very silly fic completed with commentary from angel radio throughout the entire thing.

Sappiest Season by dollsome, 2.7k, G, m/m

In which Dean and Cas have to stop an evil Christmas tree (like you do), and it requires a little fake couple action.

hilarious little s5ish fic. one of the first i read when getting back into spn. i don’t want to spoil anything but this is my favorite pick me up and i still giggle randomly whenever i think about it

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by tuesday

Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this.

another fandom classic. ik this one is recced a lot but how could i NOT include it. dean and cas get married (mostly by accident) and they’re huge cunts about it

the one thing in the galaxy god didn't have his eyes on by prufrock, 2.4k, T, gen + m/m

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

or, after the events of S5E03 "Free to Be You and Me," Dean teaches Cas to drive. Cas finds it stressful

im always a sucker for a good ftbyam fic. also i can’t drive so. resonation

So Says The Sword by komodobits, 85k, E, m/m

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

NO introduction neede. i think everyone on spntumblr has read this already but still. if you haven’t then i am demanding that you read it NOW. tbh i’m just adding this one so that i have at least one long fic here 😭

the weight by @myaimistrue, 3.5k, T, gen + m/m

“Do you…” Bobby sighs. “Listen, Dean, do you have something you wanna tell me?”

It’s the conversational equivalent of being punched in the stomach.

Or, Dean works through some things with Bobby's help.

WHEN I SAW THE USERNAME I GASPED I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS U. anyway i Love coming out fics idk why i just do. the world is ending and dean comes out to bobby

canticles by 2street2car, 10.3k, T, m/m

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”

feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

another ftbyam fic that skepticalfrog (i believe?) recommended a while back. made me feel at least 28 new emotions

Epilogue by JayneL, 28k, E, m/m

Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means-- Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means--

Cas is no longer when he was. Lucifer sent him back.

Coda to 'The End'.

2014 cas gets sent back to 2009, feelings ensue etc. i don’t remember all the details of this one bc it’s been a while but it’s really good

bonus

currently reading

Fragile As We Lie by perilously, 11k, E, f/f

Dragging Bela Talbot out of perdition isn't so much a decision as it is a frantic choice based on gut instinct. Her soul is bright, if fractured, and Anna yearns to do good again after the perversion of free will that immediately preceded her death.

Bela's no ordinary human, though; she's prickly and damaged and beautiful, and Anna doesn't want to leave her side. So maybe they can figure out how to navigate post-resurrection, post-Apocalypse-that-wasn't Earth together.

#sorry i took a few days to answer this haha #asks #anon #fic recs

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Whole Cake Island

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano

sanji is such a self-sacrificial idiot. and i know that’s not exactly a ground-breaking statement, but it does define the entire first half of whole cake island, so it may as well be reiterated here: sanji does not value his own life as much as he should, and fails to grasp that other people care about him outside of what he can offer them, which is why he’s so surprised when luffy later comes charging headlong into big mom’s territory.

zou is a really good little arc, and it also mirrors the themes of whole cake island in miniature. the minks collectively make a massive sacrifice and risk absolutely everything to protect raizou, and wci is essentially all about loyalty and sacrifice, whether its sanji giving himself up to protect the strawhats and zeff or luffy and the strawhats facing impossible odds to rescue him to pedro giving up his life to get them all out of there safe.

huge fan of this panel partly just because it’s cute and partly because it’s a great visualization of just how dysfunctional the heights are in one piece.

zou is one of my favorite settings in one piece just for the sheer creativity of it. zunesha is so massive and so mysterious and so strange. and she really looks unspeakably old just from how she’s drawn, looming over everyone and everything, eyes hollow and empty, an entire forest and an entire people growing on her back that have been there for thousands of years. it’s just so neat and so wildly inventive.

this applies to zou as a whole, but i think it’s really cool how all the little threads that will become important during wano are set up so effectively even before whole cake island starts. we get this shot here of kidd beat to shit and then forget it because so much happens between here and when he shows up again in wano, but then oda punks us into caring about him and killer so much and this retroactively becomes very important.

ever since his introduction sanji’s always been a character basically defined by his adherence to his principles: always feeding the hungry, never wasting food, never hurting women, never using his hands in combat. he’s probably the most firmly principled person on the crew, and that’s more obvious in whole cake island than in any other arc except maybe baratie.

sanji is very stubbornly good, which puts him in acute contrast to his siblings and their general cruel apathy. it’s something i really like about him.

i’m a huge fan of big mom’s introduction, which is also our introduction to tottoland in general. it’s cutesy and colorful and musical while simultaneously being deeply creepy, with lyrics about killing people for ingredients and making jam out of blood, which is a great summary of the core of big mom’s character. she’s an old lady all in pink who lives in a cartoon fairy-tale land- but she’s also a deranged cannibal, and all those singing trees and flowers are animated by the life she steals from her citizens as tax.

whole cake island draws on a lot of fairy tale motifs (especially with brulee), and the contrast that saccharine appearance creates with how fucked up the actual content is is super effective and memorable, i think.

honestly i find most of the content of sanji with the vinsmokes just plain upsetting, which i’m sure is intentional, so i’m not going to go into it a lot here, but i am including this panel of him kicking niji in the face.

sad as this scene turns out, luffy’s absolute thrill at finding sanji and the corresponding bafflement of the vinsmokes as to how the fuck he even got there always kinda makes me grin.

i always love seeing people’s underestimations about luffy get thrown right the hell out the window- because let’s be honest, he’s easy to underestimate, he’s like a five and a half foot tall rubber teenager and not very physically intimidating and all, and then he goes and pulls off the impossible without blinking.

the thing that makes luffy unique as a captain has always been his willingness to rely on his crew, and his willingness to openly admit that reliance, like he did all the way back in arlong park. most of the other contenders for the pirate king’s crown we’ve seen- big mom, kaidou, crocodile once upon a time- have been stubbornly individualistic people who explicitly shown not to care for their crew and allies, generally seeing them as disposable.

luffy is the opposite of all of them, because his crew are everything to him, to the point of being willing to sacrifice his dream for them. and the loyalty he wins from them in return is unmatched, as opposed to big mom and kaidou, who both get cheerfully betrayed not just by their own crewmates but by their own children.

brook is really cool in whole cake island, and honestly it comes at just the right time for him as a character. ever since his introductory arc in thriller bark until this point he hasn’t gotten a ton of focus, so it’s great that he gets to be the mvp here and demonstrate exactly why he’s a strawhat pirate and how much he’s grown over the timeskip.

oda is generally really good at introducing and handling characters contained to a single arc/saga, but i do think he absolutely knocked it out of the park with pedro. he has an interesting backstory, compelling motivations, and basically an entire sub-arc ending in his death that never distracts from the main plot, but only ever adds to it.

pedro really feels like a fully realized character who’s had a whole life offscreen, who we just happened to catch at the very end of his story. i think that’s super impressive.

i really love this moment, because for me, this is the moment where whole cake island becomes a tremendous arc, and where the tides begin to turn and the dominoes begin to fall, one after the other. this is sanji hitting absolute rock bottom. the one ray of light he pinned all his hopes on was a lie, and he can’t even light a fucking cigarette.

but one piece is, very often, a story about picking yourself up even when you feel like you can’t.

i think there’s something lovely about how much one piece emphasizes the value of honestly asking for help. luffy waits for nami to ask for help, and for robin to say she wants to live, and for sanji to admit he just wants to go home, and then says, “okay, i’ll make that happen.”

it just makes me so happy how happy the stawhats are to know sanji’s back with them. it reminds me a lot of how they all brush off robin’s thanks after enies lobby. sure, they’re going to have to crash the wedding and confront big mom directly and might all die, but who cares? they’ve got sanji back. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, i love how much they love each other.

i think the gangster outfits are super fun, and i love that oda is committed enough to his aesthetics to come up with an excuse to put them all in formalwear. it pays off, they all look extremely snappy.

i know i just said it in the dressrosa posts but i’m reiterating it here because this is my favorite example of it by far: i love when oda does this split-screen thing with his panels. the contrast between the two halves of pudding is so severe and yet they’re so clearly the same person i honestly just find this pair of panels fascinating to look at.

this panel also kind of gets at my favorite thing about pudding as a character, really. i know she’s a little controversial in fandom, but i’ve always found her entertaining (at least post-reveal), especially in the contrast between her unhinged evil side and her genuinely sweet romantic side and her post-wedding tendency to randomly ping-pong between the two.

i just always like reminding people that sanji is fast enough and his observation haki good enough to dodge a surprise attack, while thoroughly distracted, from katakuri.

sanji in this arc tends to get shit from a certain side of fandom for being ‘useless’ since he doesn’t have a big climactic fight despite being the focus of the arc, which i think is thoroughly missing the point. sanji is still plenty capable in combat, as demonstrated both here and later, with chiffon and oven. it just happens that his strength isn’t what saves the day ultimately, because combat ability isn’t everything, which is the entire point of the vinsmoke backstory/subplot. sanji saves the day just by being kind.

i’ll admit big mom’s flashback isn’t one of my favorites, taken in isolation- there are some parts of it that kind of unresolved (at least as of now- i still suspect they’ll be followed up eventually), and in general, although there is a tragedy to it, it doesn’t quite hit the way many of the other more effective flashbacks do. that said, i do think it does a really good job of succinctly explaining why big mom is the way she is in the present: she’s a child who was never told no, who never grew or matured past the disappearance of her adopted mother. that’s it, and that’s enough.

i’ve always been a little bit in love with how seriously and consistently one piece handles its themes of found family, and sanji outright disowning judge in whole cake island is maybe the most outright they ever get: family is found, not made. you owe nothing to your blood and are never beholden to your abusers.

and i just like that a whole lot.

i do think the tamatebako is one of the best uses of chekov’s gun i’ve ever seen. we’re first shown it at the end of fishman island, it’s revealed it got sent off to big mom rigged with explosives which is a minor “oh fuck” moment, and then it gets forgotten about, because the entirety of punk hazard and dressrosa happens in between! which is a lot!

i remember when i reached the moment in whole cake island where we’re reminded that that bomb still exists and is still waiting to explode, i just started laughing hysterically out loud, because i’d completely forgotten, and now that i remembered i was just delighted to know it was going to definitely go off at some point, almost certainly in a very satisfying way.

pedro is, if i remember right, the first time the imagery of the coming dawn that will become quite important in wano really has attention drawn to it in-text- the recurring motif is there before this, of course, dating all the way back to the names of the first chapter (romance dawn) and first island (dawn island), but this is the first time it’s actively addressed in-story.

in doing so, oda essentially presents a fresh mystery for us, but one that has been set up so consistently ever since chapter one that it feels like it fits perfectly into the world and story.

luffy’s been punching way above his weight class ever since crocodile all the way back in alabasta, fighting enemies who clearly outmatch him but always managing to win anyways, but his fight with katakuri is maybe the clearest the sheer differential in strength ever gets, because katakuri’s powers are similar enough to luffy’s that he can pull off pretty much all of luffy’s techniques, but better. so luffy has to fall back on the two things that have always been his greatest strengths, again all the way back to crocodile in alabasta: innovation and sheer fucking stubbornness.

one thing i love about one piece is how no character is immune to being clowned on. absolutely nobody. everybody looks like an idiot sometimes, and it makes everything so much more fun than if the series took itself more seriously. katakuri basically actively tries to avert this by building up a fearsome, flawless, and utterly no-nonsense persona, but it winds up failing hard because it actually only makes the contrast and surprise of his actual personality and vices that much funnier.

i’ve always loved this one panel of carrot going sulong, because she just looks so monstrous, like a true werewolf. the same goes for the shift in big mom’s design when she starts going truly mad with starvation and gets even more threatening-looking (below). i just think oda should let women be monstrously scary more often.

i do really love that the entire climax of whole cake island hinges on the degree of trust and faith the strawhats, and sanji and luffy specifically, have in each other. they’re all facing massive challenges that would seem insurmountable to an outsider- luffy facing down a yonkou’s commander with a bounty of over a billion and sanji remaking a massive cake that took months to plan and make in just a few hours, the others evading big mom’s full forces and big mom herself for a full night- but none of them have even a shred of doubt that the others can manage it.

i wrote a meta post awhile back about one piece’s concept of ‘honor in a pirates’ fight, and what it came down to is this: honor can never be expected between pirates, but the best of them will show it anyways, and it can be a very telling judge of character. nobody would expect katakuri to do this, and luffy even calls him an idiot for it, but he has enough respect for luffy as a strong opponent to do it anyways, and that’s how we know for absolute certain that even though he’s an antagonist, he’s also a good, honorable person.

i really like the gesture of luffy leaving his hat over katakuri’s mouth, especially because until this point, we’re never even given any indication that he’s really noticed it, let alone that katakuri is insecure about it. he never reacts to or comments on it (which is in itself kind of unusual from someone who tends to nickname opponents by their appearances as often as luffy does) one way or another.

and then he does this, confirming all at once that he did fully notice and understand, he just doesn’t care. which i think sums up one of the more under-appreciated aspects of luffy’s character- he’s generally way more observant than people give him credit for, especially when it comes to people, it’s just that he has a very different sense of what’s important and what’s not than your average person.

i love the sheer contrast between big mom’s delighted, rapturous singing as she devours the wedding cake against the violence taking place on screen as her army rains fire and hell down on the thousand sunny. it parallels her initial introduction at the start of the arc perfectly, and is just an excellent way to close out the arc with a bang.

i said it earlier but it bears repeating here, for a different reason: luffy is not very physically intimidating. he’s shorter than most of the other main characters, he’s a lanky teenager, he dresses casually and his most identifiable accessory is a farm hat.

but then there are times when he looks like a captain, like a future pirate king, and it just looks so natural on him. i can never get over it.

i really like that, after spending a whole arc demonstrating just how different (and how much better) sanji is than the vinsmokes, it ends like this- showing us just how similar he’s grown up to the man he’s chosen as his real family, and just how proud zeff would be of him.

#the voyage so far #one piece #opmeta #arc: whole cake island #arc: zou #long post #not japanese

[a-sour-nectarine]

Summary:

The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.

So Cody suspected, at least.

Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.

The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.

Notes:

Everyone shut up, I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep. I am aware that it's Monday. Don't want to hear it.

This is my fourth and final submission for Codywan Week 2021! I really tried to do all seven days, but for my first ever event like this, I don't think I did too bad.

Prompt is an alt, Sith/Jedi Artifact Shenanigans.

"Um, commander?"

"What, Waxer?" Cody said irritably, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Day three in the remains of this stupid temple, and Cody, General Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, and six shinies, all yet to be named, had been grating on each other's nerves nonstop.

"You might want to... um... check in a mirror."

"Lieutenant, unless you have a mirror with you, that's not gonna happen."

"I just, um. Hold on. I'll take a picture, send it to your HUD."

Seconds later, said picture showed up in front of Cody's eyes. "Oh, Force."

A sleepy voice from the back of the room piped up. "Force what?"

Cody removed his helmet and shared a look with Waxer. That was not a brother, but it didn't quite sound like the General either, meaning....

"Hey, General, you might wanna come over here." Waxer shrugged at Cody as he called out. Sure enough, the figure making it's way over to them was not the General, or, at least, not the General they were used to. He looked like a cadet.

Well, so did Cody, so who was he to judge?

"Oh, Cody!" Obi-Wan exclaimed once he noticed the commander's state. He didn't seem to be able to stop the smile pulling at his mouth.

"Ah-ah, speak for yourself, General."

Obi-wan squinted down at his robes, which were the same as the ones he went to sleep in. He was drowning in them, looking only slightly less ridiculous than Cody did in his oversized armor. "Well, this is unfortunate."

Boil snorted. "Maybe one of you is small enough to fit through that hole now.

The General lit up. "Brilliant, Boil. Someone boost me up."

Boil snorted again, but followed him to the far wall. It had been pretty destroyed in the explosion, though still pretty effective in keeping the ten of them trapped. But maybe, now that Cody and Obi-Wan were smaller...

"Wait, wait, we aren't going to address the fact that we are– small? What caused it?"

Obi-Wan's lips quirked up in a smile, and Cody noticed how much more expressive he was when clean-shaven. "Well, I suspect it was caused by the artifact that also triggered the explosion that trapped us here. So, personally, I'd rather worry about it later." He held up the small slate of rock, carved with languages none of them could read.

Cody gaped for a second. That was pretty good thing to say if Obi-Wan wanted all the men to immediately lose faith in either himself or Cody. They had never disagreed in front of the troops, no matter how minor the issue. Equally unusual, he felt the urge to snap back. It was like he was four all over again— Oh. He was, wasn't he?

"Alright, but if you make it through, expect me to follow."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Obi-Wan chirped, grinning like he had just won some huge award.

Turned out that they both did fit, though Cody had to get shoved through and his shoulders got a little scraped up. But it was worth it for the first breath of fresh air outside.

Obi-Wan turned to him, eyes wide, and laughed. "I was honestly not positive that would work."

Cody couldn't help but join him in his laughter, breathless and a little manic, before a voice called out from inside the rubble.

"Will you two grow up and go find a damn signal?"

That was definitely Boil, no one else would speak like that to their COs, even if their COs were children. Cody couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. We're going." Cody really was just content with losing all respect, wasn't he. Eh, he was four, he was allowed to be petulant. Besides, he doubted that the eight people still trapped under the debris would be telling anyone else. Not because he trusts them, hells no, but because the situation was almost as embarrassing for them as it was for him and Obi-Wan. After all, they were the ones whose shebs would be saved by children.

Obi-Wan held out his hand, and Cody took it without a second thought, not that he had time to. The Jedi took off the second he had a hold on Cody's fingers. They ran up to the closest hill they could find and surveyed the landscape. Nothing but red grass and blue flowers and crumbling old ruins as far as the eye could see. It was almost beautiful.

Until it started raining.

A couple of light drops of water was all the warning they got before the sky opened, absolutely soaking them immediately. Cody groaned and took off again–-still attached to Obi-Wan–-towards the nearest gray, stone building that looked like it still had a ceiling. As soon as they made it inside, they heaved out twin sighs of relief. The building wasn't completely waterproof, but it was good enough. They made their way into the middle of the floor, where there was the least amount of leakage, and Cody shook himself savagely. The rain outside was not slowing, in fact, it seemed to only get heavier as time went on. Lightning flashed every few seconds. The thunder was constant, but could barely be heard over the sound of the rain.

And then the walls came down.

Not "came down," as in they fell. "Came down," as in a separate set of walls dropped in from the soggy ceiling, completely (and separately) entombing Cody and the General. The walls were some kind of clear glass or crystal, faceted and almost completely transparent. The wall between them had gaps in it, sort of decoratively symmetrical.

"Uhh, Commander?"

"Yeah, sir, I noticed." Cody pounded on the wall, and it didn't even crack. Not glass, then. His enhanced strength would have taken care of glass that thick, child body or no.

In spite of the situation, Obi-Wan giggled, his voice echoing oddly from the other side of the crystal. "Cody, please don't call me "sir," it feels strange. I'm eleven."

"How can you possibly know how old you are?"

"No scar on my thumb. I rub it when I'm nervous, but right now there's nothing to rub."

"How do you know you aren't– I dunno, nine?"

"Just a guess, I suppose. I feel too tall to be nine. You, on the other hand, look younger than that."

Cody quickly crunched the numbers in his head. "S'pose that would make sense, if it's relative. I'm developmentally about 10 years younger than you. Twenty-four to thirty-five, eight to eleven."

"You're ignoring the fact that we are trapped."

"Yes, I am."

"That doesn't change the situation."

"I'm aware. But, as previously stated, I am eight years old. Four, actually. I'm trying not to panic. How are you calm?"

"Oh, I'm not. I'm actually fighting off a panic attack, if I am to be frank. This is almost exactly how Qui-Gon died, with me trapped on the other side of a ray shield. I just keep talking because it seems to distract me."

Cody cursed himself. He knew that, and it should have occurred to him that this was probably Obi-Wan's worst nightmare. He kicked his feet along the bottom of the wall, and noticed a particularly concerning fact. The crystal was growing. Not just randomly growing, it seemed to be specifically growing to cover the holes in the wall, creeping up and up. And, as if that wasn't worrisome enough, Cody's feet were wet. Not from the rain, but from the water seeping up from the floor. It was rapidly climbing higher, just a little below the level of growing crystal. The sound was rather pleasant, Cody noted, but he also noted that Obi-Wan's side of the little prison was completely dry.

The irony was not lost on him. And the irony was pretty kriffed up.

And it got worse once Obi-Wan noticed. The Jedi just let out a hysterical little laugh, and started pacing. "Wow, how wonderful."

"Hey, Ge–Obi-Wan, it's okay. It's okay. It's really slow."

Obi-Wan stopped pacing and stretched his hand through a hole at shoulder height, yet to be covered. Cody didn't even think before he grabbed the boy's (man's?) hand.

"It'll be okay," He repeated. "I'm fine."

The water was about knee high now, and the row of crystals at shoulder height were starting to close off. Cody pushed Obi-Wan's hand back just before the crystal could trap it there, and Obi-Wan let out a pained sound, pressing up against the wall. It hurt Cody. Hurt him more that being trapped, than the memories he had at this age, the memories that this water chamber was starting to dredge up.

Watching his brothers take their turns in the tank, none coming out conscious. "It's for your training," the longnecks had said. It felt like torture to Cody. Though, he supposed, maybe that was the point. It's hard for torture to frighten you if you have already experienced worse.

His turn now, he pulled on the breathing mask and stepped into the tank. It started filling up from the tubes in the sides, and the cold water shocked him a little. He watched the blinking, red light outside on the wall, until it counted up to three minutes. As soon as it hit three, he took a deep breath and shoved the mask off his face, and the clock started counting down again. Could he make it?

No. He woke up later in the medbay.

Like he always did.

The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.

So Cody suspected, at least.

Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.

The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.

"It's alright," he said as the water carried him up, up, toward the top of the chamber. It wasn't nearly far enough away.

"I'll be fine," he called as he felt his head press against the ceiling. Too soon.

"I'm okay," he lied, then took a deep breath, right before the water covered his mouth and nose.

The clock ticked down, 2.59, 2.58, 2.57...

He sank back down, keeping his eyes open and on the crying boy leaning on the wall. Cody smiled and pressed his hand against the crystal.

1.46, 1.45, 1.44, 1.43...

Obi-Wan frantically pushed his own hand against Cody's through the wall. His other fist pounded at the crystal, to no avail. Cody's lungs were starting to burn.

1.03, 1.02, 1.01...

Cody's vision got darker, but he kept his gaze on Obi-Wan. Through the water, he looked distorted, but his eyes were unmistakable. Blue, bright with tears, creased with grief. Cody thought that it had been a while since he had seen those eyes smile. He hoped they would again, maybe after the Wars. Long after Cody was gone. He hoped this wouldn't break Obi-Wan beyond repair. His gaze really did go black now, and the clock in his memory blinked just twice more.

0.01, 0.00.

He felt a satisfied smile pull on his lips. He made it.

~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan saw Cody's eyes close, and he cried out. "Cody! Stay with me!"

He couldn't ask that of him. It was selfish and impossible. But Obi-Wan felt so small, so helpless. It was just like when Qui-Gon had died, and he could do nothing. Nothing.

"Not nothing," a voice chided. "You can change it, this time."

A different voice swirled around him. "He must learn."

The first voice pressed in. "This will only break him. You are strong, child. Use it."

The soft voice was right. If he lost Cody right now, he would shatter. There would be no Obi-Wan Kenobi to put together, not like there had been last time. He would never come back. Maybe that was what the Code aimed to prevent when it forbade attachments. He had never been good at staying away from those he loved.

But there was no way to get to Cody.

"The power. It is yours to use, young one. Focus it."

"What power?!" He yelled, sounding like a child, even to his own ears. He was a child, actually. No response. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and placed his hands on the crystal wall, tears slipping down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. And he focused. It was like meditating, but more. He felt it. Power. Flowing through his very being. That was what the voice meant. It felt like an ocean, pushing and pulling at him, flowing through him. He waited, waited....

And pushed.

The crystal around him shattered. Shattered like Obi-Wan, because he surged forward and Cody was in his arms and he was him again, filling out his armor, scar across his temple but he was still and cold. Obi-Wan lowered Cody to the ground, brushing the shards of crystal away with his mind, and cried again. "Cody, Cody please. Wake up." He gulped in a breath of air. "Commander, wake up! That's and order!" And he used the power and he pushed the water out of Cody's lungs, but he still didn't stir. He heart had all but stopped, and he wasn't breathing. Obi-Wan used the power again and gathered the Force around Cody's lungs, breathing for him, in--out--in--out--in--

That's when Obi-Wan noticed the crystal in his hand. He would have dismissed it, thrown it with the rest of the shards of crystal littering the floor around him, if not for the glow.

"It is for him. This was as much his trial as it was yours."

The sense of desperation flooded him again, and he fought back tears. What use would Cody have for the crystal if he was dead? But he pressed it to the commander's chest anyway.

"Cody, don't leave. Please wake up. You have to wake up."

And then it was like Cody had heard him, because he coughed and shivered. Obi-Wan released his grip on the Force, because he didn't need it anymore, because Cody was breathing on his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and the scar on his temple stretched. Obi-Wan sobbed in relief and pressed a kiss to Cody's forehead, because he was alive, and they had passed whatever test they had been given, and they were alive.

And that would do for now. That would be enough until they had to go find help, until they had to get the squad out, until they found someone who could help.

Because Obi-Wan was not going to lose anyone today.

#codywanweek2021 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #there were many external factors that influenced this fic #its far from my best work #but kinda interesting at least

[palettepainter]

Food for thought 24

Note: I’ve spoken to my parents about my vent art and am feeling a lot better. I’m still a bit drained but going to try and pick things up and work on some christmas merch. Can’t say what kind of merch but if you’re interested look out on my redbubble

 - https://www.redbubble.com/people/palettepainter1/shop

Also does anyone know how I can make stickers of characters I don’t own?? I wanna make some MHA stickers of some of the characters but since I don’t hold copyright over them is it still okay? I’ve seen people make merch with the MHA characters so just wanted to check if anyone knew, is it really just as simple as not ticking the I hold copyright over the character/content box?

Okay note over, onto the food for thought post!

///////////////////////////////////

So can’t say for sure if this will become cannon, it was just a fun idea that came to me randomly a few days ago. 

Ectoplasm’s mum being best friends with a lady in their home town that runs a sheep shop. After Chimu and Akarui are married and move house Chimu becomes a local at a quaint little sweet shop, where she becomes quick friends with the lady who owns the shop. 

I don’t have a tone of ideas for her since as said I haven’t considered if she’ll become cannon in my MHA AU, I feel as though I’m overcrowding it with characters, but here are a few ideas I had for her

-Matching with the fact she runs a sweet shop she has a sweet tooth and a very grandma like personality, she’s the kind of person to slip Ecto and extra sweetie when he came to the shop with his mum when he was younger

-Small round and bubbly 

-Her hair smells of strawberries 

-Speaking of her hair is a fucking mess. It’s thick, frizzy and uncontrollable. She’s the kind of person to stick a pencil behind her ear or put her glasses on her head and five minutes later forgets where she put them cuz they’ve been submerged in her hair

-Knows Chimu’s and Ecto’s go to sweet orders by heart

-For her quirk I was thinking either the same quirk as Tiger (I forget the name) or maybe a quirk that’s hair related. Maybe she can control her hair freely hence when it’s always such a mess

-Probably has a super thrilling past despite running a sweet shop, was a part of some stunt show. Despite being small and cute she has whooped shop lifters butts with ease before and will do so again

-She doesn’t have any kids so is everybodys grandma 

-Always has sweets or biscuits in her handbag, in case of emergencies 

-Honestly she might develop a crush on Komori and Dangan-

#Food for thought #Ectoplasm #Chimu #Akarui #Powerloader

[heloflor]

As Time Passes Prologue : The Estate

AO3 link

People never choose where they were born.

Balthazar was said to be lucky. He was a prince ! He had all the fame ! All the recognition ! All the things he could ever dream of !

Deep down, he knew it was all fake.

This life felt like a prison. A prison of boredom filled with duties that were choking him more and more. And through the bars, he could see the outside world, he could see the time-agents working for his parents, and all the things they accomplished.

And when Balthazar found an escape route, it was obvious he was meant to go sooner or later.

Note : And here’s the first part of a long fic that I’ve been thinking of for a while now. Note that I have NO idea when the second chapter will come out. While I’m basically done with the school year, I still have some work, so I won’t have all the time of the world. But I still really wanted to get that chapter done.

The prologue is going to be three to four chapters long and will mostly serve to give the characters a backstory along with introducing some side characters. But be aware that the ideas introduced in these chapters won’t be the subject of an arc in the main story, it will be more like things established about the characters that could get a mention or characters that will show up in the main story without much introduction, since the introduction will be done here.

There will also be some small “extra” chapters about things that are related to the fic but overall don’t really play a big role in the main story, like a flashback or, in the case of this chapter, a “where are they now” kind of thing. There could also be smut at some point if I ever decide to try writing about it (no promises).

As for the main fic, let’s just say that, while I write Cavendish and Dakota as a married couple, I’m still a sucker for “getting together” fics. So I might as well write about their history ; )  .

And fun fact, before Cavendish’s appreciation day, I never really thought of a backstory for him and Dakota. But after seeing people talk about them and their possible histories, in arts and even old fics and random posts, I started making my own headcanons. So thanks people for the inspiration !

This chapter can kind of be considered as a Royal AU I guess ? I mean, it’s more of a backstory related to it but the “aesthetic” is pretty much the same as a royal AU. As for the castle, it’s your usual renaissance castle but with futuristic technology like metallic automatic doors for the bedrooms and some floating telegraphic screen things to write notes on; stuff like that. Although, for the clothing, it would be more the Victorian era with royal outfits that look like general outfits (hope it’s easy to picture… Basically it’s not the Renaissance clothing with layer after layer, it’s a less heavy clothing). Also, the garden is an “English garden” with plants that can grow kind of randomly (compared to French garden in which everything is controlled and symmetrical).

I have no idea if this description makes sense but point is, this is basically what most people think about when you say 1700s royalty but with stuff from different time periods because no research had been made on a precise time period. In my defense, this takes place in 2149 so who’s to say people wouldn’t mix time periods ?

And since I took a royal approach and talk economy : know that this story is just some random fic and does not show any politic views or stuff like that. It’s the first ideas that came to mind to justify having the characters as royals. Even the royal situation is more out of convenience than anything. And the fact that this is posted now also has nothing to do with what happened a few days ago; I started working on this way before it.

And finally, if you have any questions or comments about this fic, feel free to ask ! I’m always open to criticism and for an excuse to infodump (as long as it doesn’t end up in spoiling the story) ! And since two fics are doing it, if you’re wondering : no, this fic won’t have an askblog. While I love askblogs, I don’t have the energy to make one. So if you have any questions about the fic, ask in general, not to a character.

One last comment : while this chapter is pretty chill in terms of content, be aware that the rest of the prologue, along with some parts of the main fic, will talk about some pretty serious topics, which is also why this fic might take some time for every chapter because a lot of research is needed here to make sure not to mess anything up (the thought of chapter three of the prologue already scares me). For each chapter, I will put a warning for the content. But overall, I’d advise you to look at the AO3 page if only for the tags (tags will change and be added as the fic goes on).

Anyways, enjoy !

“Greetings, class ! Today, we’re going to continue our history lesson on how our nation came to be. As promised last time, we are going to see the European Fallout of the 2080s.

Throughout the 21st century, Europe went through several economic crises. All of it led to a collapse by the end of the 2070s. At the end of the decade, a crisis raged in the United States and spread to our Europe. In only a few weeks, every country found themselves on the brink of poverty. The consequences of this fallout are still present nowadays as most European countries are much poorer than they used to be. A lot of people tried to find the root of this event and pointed the finger at the Louisiana Purchase.

As for what happened to our England, I told you last time how our country used to be part of the United Kingdom, an alliance made with three other countries. When the fallout started, the United Kingdom was the first to be affected and nobody knew how to make the situation better. After hundreds of arguments and decisions that didn’t go anywhere, the United Kingdom ended up splitting up.

Moreover, people stopped trusting the government of that time, which had a prime minister at its head, and asked for the royal family to stand up and take back the leadership role they gave up years ago. But since the Queen can only do so much, since not every part of the country was affected equally and since a government with one ruler making decisions with a council failed, the system changed. Our country was divided in Estates, each ruled by a Lady or a Lord. The Ladies and Lords were chosen among the richest and most influential families of England. This division helped bringing closeness between the people and the ones ruling over them. That way, solving local issues became easier.

Wishing to be old-fashioned, the Ladies and Lords decided to live in palaces, each palace near the biggest town of the Estate. They also started to refer to each other as kings and queens, though with no desire to question the authority of our Queen. They also chose to raise their children to take over after their passing and chose to host meetings, often turning into balls, to give their children the opportunity to meet the princes and princesses that could become their future spouse. Finally, these families all have a profession related to the Queen and the rest of her court. Of course, they are part of the court as well.

This system, our current system, had been created more than five decades ago now, and look at how greatly it managed to save us from the collapse the rest of Europe is barely recovering from !

And that, children, is why we live and thrive in the Cavendish Estate.”

    ---------------

April 20, 2149

  “Have you heard about what that person claimed last night ? I heard it had been all over the news !”

Balthazar chuckled. Gossip. Something people sure loved to spread in this town. There was something quite fascinating about it. To see people so willing to believe anything, if they know the person they heard it from.

“What does this weirdo want ?”, he heard one of the ladies whisper to the other.

“My apologies.”, Balthazar replied, knowing full-well the comment was aimed at him. After all, he was the only person wearing a black cloak while sitting on benches at the town’s only green space, looking at the people passing by. Not wishing to bring more attention to himself, and realizing how late it was getting, the blonde walked away, covering as much of his face as possible.

“What a creep.”

    Balthazar walked through the town, wishing he had the time to stop at one of the shops that displayed artisanal work. This work was so much insignificant compared to everything he was given, and yet it was so much more valuable ! Those were hand-craft objects, things that people made themselves, with their own talent ! Things they accomplished by their own abilities !

...But he didn’t have time, he had to hurry.

  He knew the road by heart by now. First leave the town by taking the smaller streets. Then, there was the long road through the forest. Balthazar always felt uncomfortable while crossing it. The woods were purely decorative, put there by his grandparents to make the ride to the castle more pleasant. This meant that nothing and nobody lived here, and the only noise that could be heard were the occasional blowing of the wind through the leaves and the electric movement of the cameras. They weren’t a lot of them, and Balthazar managed to find a path that avoided them all. He could now rush through the woods, only slowing down once he reached the walls surrounding the royal garden. There was a crack in one part of the wall, at the very back of the garden, hidden behind a set of bushes and just big enough to let the prince go through. It had been there for years.

All he had to do now was hide his cloak into the bushes, remove all eventual filth off his person, grab the book about time theories he left behind and go back inside, pretending to have been reading this whole time. When he started to open the back doors and felt the guards grabbing them to let him in, he felt reassured to see them do their usual greeting. Seemed like nobody had been looking for him.

“Balthazar.”, the prince almost jumped as his mother emerged from one corridor, and took back his previous statement. The queen had her face fully visible with her ginger hair tied into a bun. And while the woman looked calm and composed, the blonde knew that, had she not been raised as a royal, the glare from her icy eyes would lead to a full-blown rage. The queen opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out as she noticed the book in her son’s hands. When she looked back at him, he knew he was in trouble.

“Have you been so taken by your story that you did not hear the commotion inside ?”

“I…”, Balthazar didn’t know how to answer without making it worse for him. He had no idea his free-time had been replaced by something else. How do you pretend to forget about something if you don’t even know what it is ?

“The son of our closest ally was there, more than eager to meet you again.”

“Oh ! A meeting !”, his interjection only reinforced the frown on his mother’s freckled face and the prince gulped. “I…I mean, I thought we already had such a meeting Monday.”

“We chose to have them more often, you are aware of that.”, it wasn’t a question.

“I…”, Balthazar sighed. “I apologize for my lack of foresight.”, that was his best option right now.

“Apologies will not bring a husband.”, the queen reprimanded. She approached him and grabbed his head. “You are close to being thirty now.”, he tone soothed.

“I am only twenty-six.”, her son protested.

“It is already old.”, she insisted. “Soon enough, you will lose your youthful charm.”, she lifted his chin. “You are a handsome man, dear. Do not let it go to waste.”

“I assure you, I am not trying to.”

“Then why avoiding your chances ?”

“…”, the prince looked down.

“Is there something wrong with your suitors ?”, she tried asking. “Would you rather court Ladies ?”

“No, it’s not- ! I really do am interested in Lords.”, his mother raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a better explanation. “I simply…I do not find these princes to be the most…attractive. Or interesting.”, he mumbled that last part.

His mother eyed him for a moment, before finally letting go of him.

“Remember. You are the heir of the Cavendish Estate. It is your duty to assure our progeny. It is already disappointing to know that you will continue our bloodline with a surrogate instead of your spouse. Do not force us to choose a husband for you.”, and with that, she left.

 Truth be told, Balthazar saw all these princes as the same. Rich egotistical men who boasted about the wealth and power their parents managed to get. They were all the same built, all told the same boring discussions, seemingly happy about their situation. Sometimes, Balthazar felt like the only one who wasn’t interested into such talks, who wasn’t satisfied with what he was.

Now, a real man, a strong and muscular man who could sweep him off his feet and crush him without effort, while still showing kindness and acting as a gentleman…Now that was his type of men !

However, he could never admit it to his parents. They would be disgusted with him.

 “Your highness ?”, Balthazar thoughts were interrupted by one of the servants approaching. The man bowed his head in respect.

“What is it ?”, the prince asked, taking his royal tone.

“I am here to notify you like you asked. Mr. Elmont and his team are about to come back.”

“Mr. Elmont is back ?”, he asked excitedly.

“He is.”, the servant confirmed.

“Thank you !”, Balthazar quickly said as he hurried down the hallway, his manners forgotten.

    It didn’t take him long to reach the basement under the right wing of the castle. This part of the property served as headquarters for the B.O.T.T. agents working for the Cavendishes.

The prince went to the garage. It was there that most people went to talk to the agents, as the rest of the space given to them was used for their personal accommodation.

The garage was a simple room. At the center, there were parking spaces for the cars of the five teams that lived here, including two spare vehicles that were rarely used. Near the walls rested equipment along with tools and car parts. There also was a cooler and several bags for long missions in hostile environments.

There were also pictures. Dozens of framed pictures of all the places they travelled to and the wonders they saw here. Balthazar was always in awe at their view. To think the world used to be so different ! That the world outside of those walls was so diverse ! That there had been so many civilizations, so many different kinds of people over the centuries ! But out of all these people, how many of them had their story told ? How many of them made a difference ? How many were completely forgotten ? The thought of it both fascinated and scared the prince as he wondered about his own place in the world. Would he be a hero, remembered for his great ruling, or would he be forgotten, becoming nothing more than a name on a family tree ? Or worse, what if he was remembered for the bad reasons ? He knew some of the people in the Estate were against the concept of Lords ruling over them. So what would this mean for his future ?

 Most often than not, Balthazar envied the time-travelers. Not only did they have the luck to see so many things in their lifetime, but they also had the opportunity to make a change in the world. Sometimes, Balthazar wished he could be in their place.

Ever since he learned to read, he had been studying about time-travel. He started off reading child books about the adventures of the incredible Professor Time and his loyal partner Perry, a creature Balthazar always figured was fictional. Then, as he grew up, he continued with theories and facts about the time-stream, alternate universes and other dimensions. His parents had always been skeptical about this hobby of him, claiming that it could ‘derivate you from your duties’. But overall, the prince managed to convince his mother to let him spend his free-time learning about it, as long as he kept paying attention to ‘important matters’.

Soon after he took the stairs leading to the garage, the portal to the past opened, letting three time-vehicles back. The time-travelers left their vehicles and the blonde quickly took sight of Mr. Elmont’s familiar shape. At the sight of the prince, the agents bowed.

“Your majesty.”, they greeted.

“Gentlemen.”, Balthazar replied, trying to keep his composure. “May I hear the report of your assignment ?”

“Certainly.”, Mr. Elmont replied. He took out one of his holographic devices to give to the prince.

“Thank you.”, the blonde dismissed the group with a gesture. After all, their priority was to report to the king and queen. If they had to clean or tend to the cars, they could do so later.

With the agents away, he turned the device on and a representation of the land visited appeared. There was a text at the bottom, explaining that the time was West-Asia in 1795 and what the objective was. Balthazar spent a good chunk of time reading it all, planning dozens of questions to ask the agents, until his father’s impatient voice brought him back to his royal duties. With envious glances towards the time-machines, he left the garage.

    When the evening came, Balthazar had a boring and uneventful dinner filled with talks with his parents about the state of their province before retracting to his room. He sighed, sliding down against the door. What was wrong with him ? He was a prince. He was smart, cultivated, respected, beloved by the court. So why did all the things supposedly important for him feel so dull ? Why did everyday feel like the same boring routine ? And with his parents wishing to intensify the number of meetings with other princes…

He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He knew his parents wouldn’t like it. He was a future Lord ! He was rich ! He had everything !

  Well…maybe not everything.

  Balthazar found himself drawn to his balcony, putting his weight onto the ramp as he admired the familiar view. He could see the capital from here, its light a display of the grooming activity of the people. Further away, there were other towns, some almost barely visible due to the distance.

What were civilians doing right now ? What kind of activities did they do at that time ? Did they know how lucky they were to live out there ? To be free to do and see anything they wanted ? Or were they envious of his life, just like he was of theirs ?

The prince sighed again. He didn’t know why he felt like that. Ever since he was a child, he had never felt satisfied with being a prince. He never liked having so many duties. He didn’t care about the politics of the allies and enemies his father had. He didn’t enjoy courting. But most importantly, he hated how people only knew and praised him for what his family was, instead of knowing who he was as a person, and what he could accomplish by himself. This was what made his entire work feel so meaningless.

Balthazar went to sit on his bed, putting Dennis on his lap.

“Do you think I overthink things ?”, he asked Dennis. Of course, the plush didn’t respond, but it didn’t stop the blonde from seeing a judgmental look on his companion’s face. “You’re right. I should not be complaining. Besides, surely I cannot be the only member of the court who complains like that…But still, why do you think I feel like this ? Was I not born and raised to rule ? And it isn’t as if I was not born here. Mother and Father care too much about lineage to adopt.

So if ruling is in my blood, why do I feel like I am not made for it ?”

    ---------------

April 21, 2149

 Another day, another meeting with other Estates, another potential husband to stand.

Everyone was gathered into the throne room. The high members of the Estate were here, along with members of the court and families of friend Estates. Balthazar was standing in front of his throne, next to his parents. The king was doing his usual welcoming speech, his tall stature and floating blond hair making his presence imposing. The prince half-listened to his father’s speech. He had heard it a million times before. Instead of listening, he studied the crowd. One of the men here might very well be his future husband. Whoever it might be, Balthazar hoped he would be strong but also compelling.

As he recognized the last words from the speech, he took it as his cue and walked down the steps separating the thrones to the rest of the room. His father announced the festivities and people started to merge together in a myriad of colors.

Each Estate had a dominating color in their clothing, adorned for the Lords with a dozen medals and titles like his father did. Balthazar wasn’t so bad himself. He was wearing a white shirt covered by a deep blue waist-coat along with leggings, all covered by a matching coat. The three pieces of clothing had gold patterns sewed on them. His stockings were white, contrasting with the black of his boots. His crown was quite simple : a circular piece of jewelry with emeralds engraved in it. The green created an enticing contrast with the rest of his clothing. The only exception were his glasses, carrying the same golden colors as the crown, with an emerald on each branch.

 Soon enough, he was approached by a man. He was wearing a brown outfit that complimented his dark hair. His clothes followed the same mold as Balthazar’s, the proper dress code for a prince. From his outfit, Balthazar guessed that he came from the Valjean Estate, an Estate form the far-South that had some French roots and recently became good acquaintances with his own province. The blonde had to admit, that prince wasn’t bad looking.

“Greetings. May your kingdom be prosperous and your family proud.”, the prince extended his hand.

“May your kingdom be prosperous and your family proud.”, the blonde shook his hand. “Prince Balthazar Tiberius of the Cavendish Estate.”, he introduced himself.

“Prince Clement Hugo of the Valjean Estate.”, the prince replied, his accent confirming his origin. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”, Balthazar replied. He knew the protocol, and the prince was slightly his style, so he might as well get things going. “Would you like to head for the garden ? We can have more privacy to talk.”

“A bright idea.”, the other man nodded, following him.

    They stayed in the garden for a while, walking along the path near the walls. At every step, Balthazar’s disappointment grew. For a moment, he had thought that he was finally with someone interesting. But like any other prince he met, the man ended up talking politics and royal meetings and other topics that the blonde would rather forget about, if only for one day.

“And that’s how my father solved the issue of that drought.”, the prince boasted. “And now, our Estate is more flourishing than ever. Rather impressive, is it not ?”

“Indeed. Your father is rather impressive.”, the blonde pointed out.

“…Well,”, the prince coughed. “I helped as well with a great work-“

“A significant work for sure.”, Balthazar said sarcastically while rolling his eyes.

“Why being so insulting ?”, the prince asked, stopping in his tracks. “Do you not deem your work important ?”

“As a matter of facts, I do not.”

“But…are you not a successful barrister for the Queen ?”

“Oh please ! Do you honestly believe that any of the people I defend would be declared ‘guilty’ without me ? They are part of the Queen’s court ! Our families are too rich and powerful to be opposed !”

The other prince just looked at him, flabbergasted.

“Don’t you see ?!”, Balthazar continued. “Neither of us accomplished anything ! Our professions are nothing but facades ! We didn’t earn any of the things we have ! All our wealth was made by our grandparents ! All the things people praise us for, it was all given to us by our families ! Even our meaningless professions were dictated by them !”

The prince opened his mouth, most likely to protest, but no sound came out.

“Don’t you want to be more than that ? Don’t you want to do something more with your life ?”

“I am doing something with my life !”, he protested.

“But don’t you want more ?”

“…What do you want out of your life, Prince Balthazar ?”

“I…I want to get out of there.”, he gazed at the top of the property’s walls. “I want to explore the world. I want to be the master of my own life. I want people to praise me for my own accomplishments. I want to be more than just a forgettable pawn working for this Estate !”

The prince stared at him, his surprise slowly fading away. For a moment, Balthazar thought that he was going to excuse himself, leaving and not feeling comfortable to talk to him again unless he was forced to. Not like the blonde would mind. This was how half of those ‘relationships’ ended up anyways. At least this one would be as short as he wished it to.

But instead, the prince looked at him with a much more serious expression.

“…I knew someone like you.”

“You…you do ?”

“The youngest prince of the Limgar Estate. He knew his turn as a ruler would never come, but he never wished for it anyways. He wished to leave his Estate, and he tried to.”

“He did ?!”, for the first time in years, Balthazar felt a bubbling excitement. Was it truly possible to leave ? Were there no consequences to it ?

The prince nodded. “Unfortunately for him, he had no choice but using the front gate. He tried to leave during the guards relaying but was seen. And while he managed to go far, as he was on a train by the time his family was warned and it was made clear that he was not supposed to be outside, it only took a call to the friends Estates to end his escapade.”

Balthazar deflated. Of course there was no easy way to get away with such a plan.

“Ever since this incident, he is followed at all times by a guard. As for his reputation…Well, I believe you understand that the entire court now show him every disdain. He is an outcast among his own people. Of course, this is not helped by his rank as the second born.”

The prince let Balthazar a few seconds to take it all in. “I will refrain from confessing your desires to your family.”, he then reassured. “But if I were you, I would reconsider a lot of things. Nobody wants to be shunned by their own kind, especially an heir.”, and with that, the prince bowed to excuse himself and headed back to the castle.

 Balthazar stayed behind, dozens of questions on the tip of his tongue but unable to talk. How long had it been since this event ? How many people were aware of this story ? Would it be possible for him to meet that prince ? Did other people feel that same way but never talk about it out of fear ? Not like it would matter anyways, if bringing it up only caused troubles. But still. For once, it would be nice to meet someone who shared his point of view, to prove that they had nothing insane to them.

The blonde watched as the other prince headed back inside, before glancing the other way. For an instant, he considered going to town to forget about this whole thing, but with the current meeting, he knew his parents were watching. With one last lingering glance towards the walls, he headed back inside.

    Balthazar almost collapsed in his throne as the evening came. The meeting ended soon after he came back inside. Afterwards, it had been time for his piano lessons, followed by sports and dance and then several hours of working for his law firm. And now, he had to attend as his parents took care of business for the people. Representatives would come to have hour-long discussions about what policies to adopt. Balthazar needed to pay attention and remember as much as possible despite his parents’ advisor noting it all down on a holographic tablet.

By the time they finished, the prince was trying to suppress his yawns, his head resting on his hand from boredom and tiredness. He quickly corrected his posture when his father glanced at him.

Without a word, the three royals stood up, the king dismissing the servants, and went for dinner.

    Despite his tiredness, Balthazar went to the B.O.T.T. quarters after dinner. With his mother promising more meetings, he would have little to no free-time in the upcoming days. So he might as well take any opportunity.

He reached the garage and was relieved to see Mr. Elmont here. The man was working on a device.

“Sir.”

The time-traveler looked up in surprise and quickly saluted. “Your Majesty.”

“Is this a bad time ?”, the prince asked.

“Not at all.”, Elmont reassured, a hint of amusement in his voice. Ever since Balthazar had been allowed to meet the time-agents, Mr. Elmont had been kind of a confidant to him. He quickly saw the interest the prince had for his profession and was always more than happy to recount his missions. And meeting the prince in his younger years helped partly close the gap tied to the power imbalance, making the agent more of a friend than a servant. “What can I do for you ?”

“I would like to hear more of your last mission, if this is possible.”, the blonde tried to sound as detached as possible. His parents tended to enforce the fact that Mr. Elmont was under his orders, and he didn’t want the agent to get scolded for patronizing him.

Elmont picked up his holographic device and rested his back against the working table, patting the space next to  him as an invitation for the prince.

For the next hour or so, the blonde listened as the time-traveler explained his last mission in detail, talking about the objectives, the places, the people. Balthazar let himself loosen, letting the man see his curiosity.

    “BALTHAZAR !”

The prince jumped as his father’s voice filled the room.

“Balthazar ! What are you doing in here at such a time ?!”, the king reprimanded while walking down the stairs.

“Your Highness.”, the time-traveler quickly greeted.

“Agent Elmont ! You know better than to waste the time of an heir on trivial babbling !”

“My deepest apologies, your Highness.”

“Father.”, the prince intervened. “I’m the one who chose to come here. Mr. Elmont did nothing but obey orders.”

“Balthazar…”, the king said in a warning tone. Without another word, he went back up the stairs. The prince glanced at the time-traveler, murmuring a ‘apologies’ before trotting after his father. Once he reached his level, the Lord looked at him. “Balthazar.”

“Father, I-“

“Son, listen. You are an heir. You have a duty, responsibilities.”, he lectured. “Your mother has left you loose for too long. You need to learn to spend your time on what truly matters.”

“I…I understand.”, Balthazar could only agree with his father’s wishes. It seemed that today was going to become the new norm.

    ---------------

April 28, 2149

  Balthazar collapsed in his bed, ignoring the crown slipping out of his face. It had been a week since his parents had decided to intensify his duties and it was already starting to show. He had had a trial yesterday and, while the client got acquitted like every other, his defense had been the flimsiest he ever displayed. His parents had lectured him, telling him how disappointing he had been. Of course, he had expected their reaction. His profession was a show before anything else. He had to be perfect to prove the greatness of his Estate.

And with the revocation of his free-time, he found himself thinking more and more about the story prince Clement had told him. Worse, he thought of the way the younger brother tried to leave and what the flaws in his plan had been. Mainly, the issues were his choice to use the front gate and to head for a friend’s Estate. If a member of the court goes missing, of course calling friends and enemies was the first thing to do. Balthazar needed to find an Estate that tended to be forgotten by most if he wanted to-

No. He shouldn’t have these thoughts. Even if the outside world seemed so wide and exciting and-

Stop this., he scolded himself. You have a duty to fulfill. Besides, the outside world is dangerous. An accident-prone person such as you would struggle alone out there. And who’s to say other Estates are the same as the capital ? The places that Mr. Elmont sees are from the past. If I leave, I would find myself on my own in much duller places. Unless I pack enough money to get to study-

No. You have to stop this ! You were born to be a ruler !

…But isn’t being close to the people part of being a ruler ? Doesn’t that mean leaving the castle as well ?

Balthazar glanced at Dennis. The plush was standing on the bed near him. At the view of his companion, memories started to flood into his mind. His only day of freedom, a carnival in the middle of the capital. So many games, so many colors, so many noises, so much laugher, so much happiness. The prince had yet to top the feelings of that day.

He sighed. He wanted to get out of there, there was no reason to doubt this. He wanted another life, outside of these walls and among the people. He wanted to find a man that was different from all these princes, much more charming than any of them could dream to be.

But could this life ever become more than just a dream ?

    ---------------

May 9, 2149

 Balthazar was running down the halls, ignoring the looks from the servants. He had just been warned that every time-traveler would go on a mission that would last at least a month. If he wanted to talk to them, it was now.

He quickly went down the stairs to the garage and was relieved to see the agents still there, making their ways into the vehicles. Once a few took notice of him, they greeted him, getting the attention of the other agents.

“Is Mr. Elmont still there ?”, the prince asked between two breaths. He looked at all the cars and was relieved to notice the agent’s usual time-machine. A second later, Mr. Elmont left his vehicle.

“Go ahead.”, he told the rest of the group. “We will join you afterwards.”

Balthazar watched as the cars jumped into the time-stream. Elmont approached him while his partner entered their time-machine.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time.”, the agent reminded. “What is it ?”

“I…”, the prince cleared his throat, trying to get his composure back. “I would like to know more about how you became a time-traveler.”

“Oh ? And why is that ?”, Elmont seemed hesitant. Has the king given him a warning due to last time ?

“Am I not allowed to know every part of your profession, including how to reach it ?”, he tried to sound firm. But when he saw the agent look away with a frown, his pretense dropped. “Mr. Elmont, please tell me.”, he insisted.

“…Alright.”, the agent decided. “To become a time-traveler, you need to study for twenty cycles. Each cycle is three months long, and you’re able to take a long break between each cycle. So the shortest time for the studies is five years, with four cycles per year and no break. You can start your studies by the age of fifteen, if you’re certain this is your calling.”, Balthazar listened intensely, maybe too intensely.

“During those studies, you learn about the histories and cultures of the past, including the different views of those times for when you need to do infiltration missions. You also learn about time-travel theories and how your machine works. There’s physical training as well, along with a few driving lessons, especially to learn to drive under pressure. But it’s better to learn to drive before starting out, or during the first cycles.”

“And where did you study ?”

The agent looked at him for a moment before answering. “Every big town has a branch of the time-travel agency where you can learn and be employed. But the B.O.T.T. headquarters are located in America, in the Tri-State Area where time-travel was invented. In the states, there’s also the Institution of Regulation and Punishment for Time-Travel, I.R.P.T.T. for short. So if you want to address B.O.T.T., it needs to go overseas.”

“Edward ?”, the other time-agent called from the car.

“I have to go.”, Mr. Elmont told the prince.

“I understand.”, Balthazar smiled. “May your journey be successful.”

“Thank you.”, the agent bowed. On his way to the car, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Your Majesty. Whatever you might be thinking of doing, please be careful.”

  And with that, the time-machine was gone.

  Balthazar stayed for a moment, looking at the spare engines. If he knew how to drive, could he be able to leave that way ?

He shook his head. Thinking about it was meaningless. He should go back before any of his parents noticed his absence. He had papers to sort for his next case.

That is, if he did attend to the trial.

    ---------------

May 18, 2149

 This was a terrible idea.

 It was the middle of the night. The castle was silent, devoid of any activity aside from the guards on patrol. Balthazar was standing in front of his bed, where was resting a brown satchel that he filled with books about time-travel, along with a few personal items, including Dennis. And cash. A lot of cash.

Balthazar’s hands were resting on each side of the bag. He was considering his options. Ever since the meeting with the Valjean prince, he had unconsciously been studying the routine of the guards, counting the time between each permutation. He had also gotten an interest for the other Estates, as his mother put it. In reality, he asked her and his father about the Estates they had a relationship with, either positive or negative, to see which places they never paid attention to.

Along with that, he got the opportunity to meet the oldest prince of the Limgar Estate and ask him about what happened with his brother. As expected, he was told about how terribly viewed the younger brother was now. This made the blonde more hesitant about his plan, but not enough to stop him. What he mostly learned from this story was one thing : do NOT get caught.

Finally, he had put in the steps forcing him to leave tonight. He bought bus and train tickets to reach another Estate, along with clothes using an anonymous name. He made sure the shop was near the last train station so that he could change the moment he got to the Estate. He also got himself a much less fancy pair of glasses that he was already wearing. As for the money, he took as much from his account as he could carry, hoping to set a new one to remove any possible suspicion.

Everything was ready. He just needed to go.

And yet…

 He started pacing and biting his nails, full of doubt. Should he really do this ? Could he really do this ? This had to be the biggest decision of his entire life ! Was it truly what he wished ? It wasn’t like he had it bad here. He had all the possessions he wanted ! And his parents were good people who wanted what was best for the Estate and for him.

But at the same time, he didn’t feel fulfilled here. He always felt like none of his actions mattered, like nobody would ever care about who he was as a person. The court only wanted to see a perfect royal figure out of him. They never cared about who he was on the inside, about what he liked, what he did and didn’t enjoy.

As for his parents…His father was always working and only talked to him if it had anything to do with the Estate or his profession. Or it would be to reprimand him for not being good enough. And while his mother spent more time caring for him, most of the time, it felt like she was mostly worried due to his accident-prone tendencies.

Being accident-prone…another reason not to leave. As long as he stayed here, he could be safe. But was all that safety really worth staying locked up ? And why wouldn’t he be able to survive on his own ? He lived for twenty-six years for goodness’ sake ! Besides, it wasn’t like anything truly bad ever happened to him. Tripping into bushes or having a vase almost fall on him weren’t going to kill him !

 Balthazar looked at his balcony and took a deep breath. His decision was made. It was probably crazy and incredibly stupid, but he was not going to back down now.

 He closed his bag and went to leave his room. But as his hand was about to touch the automatic panel, his thoughts went back on his parents. Guilt started to settle in. They were kind and fair people who truly loved him. They didn’t deserve to be left in the dark. The soon-to-be-ex prince went to a drawer and took out pen and paper.

 Dear Mother, dear Father.

I’m sorry.

Throughout my entire life, you raised me for one purpose : to be the future ruler of the Cavendish Estate, to make our province rich and prosperous.

But ever since my childhood, I showed reticence over my duties. I always wished for a different life.

I found a

Several years ago, I discovered a hole in the garden’s walls. I used it ever since every time I had enough free-time. I learned a lot about the outside world and all the kind of people that live out there. And I wish to join them.

Tonight. This is what I have decided to do. By the time you find this letter, I will be far away.

Please do not try to find me. I have no desire to remain a prince. I do not deserve to be called a prince.

I hope you will be able to forgive me for this. Believe me when I say I have no desire to hurt you. I love both of you dearly and I always will.

May you be able to move forwards and keep the Estate in its current glory.

My deepest love,

Balthazar Tiberius Cavendish, former heir of the Cavendish Estate

  He read the letter several times. After all, this was the very last time he would ever interact with his parents. He could already picture their reaction after finding the letter, their desire to call every Estate they can think of to try finding him. His father would be furious. His mother would be devastated.

…He hoped that one day, they would understand.

…

With a heavy heart, he put the letter on the nightstand. He then took out his crown to put with it.

“Goodbye.”, he whispered, eyes on the crown. He then looked at the time, making sure a permutation was near, and left the room.

    Balthazar navigated from bush to bush, avoiding any places where guards were present. Lucky for him, he studied their routines long enough to know where to go and, soon enough, he found himself in front of the plants hiding the crack in the wall. He crossed the plants, found his cloak, put it on and stood in front of the crack.

Sometimes, he wondered how nobody found out about it besides him. He assumed it was a lack of foresight from the gardeners and guards. As for his parents never realizing he was gone, their lack of investment in anything but his royal duties seemed like the most logical explanation.

As he looked at the forest on the other side of the wall, he found himself hesitating again. But he had to remain brave. There was no going back now.

He took a deep breath, and crossed the familiar crack for the very last time.

 Despite having crossed it a hundred times, the feelings he felt that time were like no other. There was a new sense of excitement, making him feel lighter than the breeze. For the first time in his entire life, he felt in peace. That was when he knew he had made the right decision.

 Once he reached the other side, he opened his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He started smiling, then laughing, feeling immense joy course through him. He did it ! He was free !

“Is anybody here ?”

Balthazar immediately covered his mouth and put himself against the wall, cursing himself mentally. Blast ! Of course he was still very far from being out of trouble !

“Albert ? was that you ?”

“Did you call for me ?”

“I believe I heard something near the wall.”

“It’s probably the wind. I just came from here and there’s nobody on sight.”

“Are you sure ? Just because nobody in years tried to invade doesn’t mean it can’t happen. You know some folks started to oppose the court. We wouldn’t be out there if it wasn’t the case.”

“You’re right. Let’s call for team West to investigate closer to the mansion. We’ll take the walls.”

“Alright. Let’s get to the communicator.”

Balthazar waited until he couldn’t hear their footsteps and bolted away, taking the path he knew to be cameras-free. Now it was time for phase two.

    The next few hours were extremely tense for Balthazar. His future wasn’t truly into his own hands yet. It would only take one person going into his room before morning to ruin his entire plan.

He took the bus to the closest station, then the train, ignoring all the odd looks people were giving him. It sure was hard for a hooded figure to stay discreet during the night. Lucky for him, the vehicles were driven by robots, so nobody forced him to show his face.

He spent the travel in train looking out the window. Upon reaching the border and seeing the “Now leaving the Cavendish Estate” sign, he felt an odd sense of sadness, almost like nostalgia.

And yet, he was smiling.

  It was almost dawn when he reached the Stanmar Estate. It was one of the five Estates unknown or ignored by most, due to their difficulty to rise back after the Fallout. Nobody would look for him here.

After getting off the train, he hurried to the clothes shop. Luckily, they had an automatic system to give out orders anytime. All that was needed was money and a password. Balthazar was glad he didn’t have to talk to anyone. How do you explain a man with thousand in cash but not even owning a phone ? And let’s not forget his dialect. He would have to learn to speak in more familiar terms if he didn’t want to bring unwanted attention to himself.

 Balthazar went to an alley, changed clothes, and disposed of his royal outfit with fire. As he watched the clothes burn, the same feelings from before resurfaced, this time mixed with excitement. He truly was free now.

He wondered what to do with the cloak and ultimately decided to burn it as well. It was part of the past. He didn’t need to hide his face anymore.

His new clothes were much more comfortable than he expected. After wearing a tight outfit for years, it felt like a nice change of pace. Pleased with himself, he left the alley.

  The first ray of sunshine started to show as the blonde walked with confidence in the town, his plans in mind. He would have to find an apartment and get a job. Maybe he should work into a law firm since he had the experience. He also needed to buy a lot of essentials he had been forced to leave behind, like a phone or a computer and of course a lot of bathroom products. Finally, he needed a bank account, and to get his driver license.

But most importantly, he needed to sign up to the closest school of time-travel. He would start as quickly as possible. Besides, the sooner he was an agent, the better. While he knew people wouldn’t recognize him here, as common folks never learned the names of far Estates, let alone the appearance of their rulers, having a lawyer bearing his name could definitely be suspicious. If he was a time-agent, it could take longer to make a connection.

  Balthazar took a deep breath and smiled happily. It was a new day, the start of an entirely new chapter of his life. No longer would he feel like a pawn, getting shaped the way other people wanted. Now he was going to be his own man ! A savior, like Mr. Elmont ! Like the great Professor Time ! People would remember the name Balthazar Tiberius Cavendish as the one of a hero ! For all the missions he accomplished by himself ! He would become a top agent! A savior of the world !

Balthazar jumped in excitement. He couldn’t wait to get started !

      -------------------------

Note : Well, here’s the first part ! Thanks for reading ! I hope I didn’t go too OOC with Cavendish here, but in my defense, it is a younger version of him who doesn’t know much about the real world, so he’s a bit idealistic (and he got one hell of a reality check after leaving). I also hope that I didn’t hammer his point of view with the whole “wishing to do something of his life” side. Also, yes, he’s gay in this story (rip Hildegard). And yes, he’s a twink with a few kinks. There ! I said it and I assume it ! (I’m actually very ashamed of that part with Cav talking about his ideal man. But at least I see him grow more or less out of this view of toxic masculinity as what a perfect man should look like. And by that I mean that it would still be his type of guy, but he’d learn to get attached to men even if they didn’t fit this type).

And is Cavendish autistic in this ? Honestly I’m not sure. Thing is, I’m writing Cav with the habits he has in the show (though I yet have to make him say “huzza !” in one of my fics), and those habits can be read as autistic. Same for his interest towards time-travel and Professor Time that in this chapter can be read as a special interest. But at the same time, him being so interested by the travel and the outside world is mostly due to how dull and boring his life is, so he gets excited by the things he doesn’t know.

So overall, I guess it can be read as both autistic and not; but I’m not writing him with the intention to insist about him being autistic, the same way I won’t do research on autistic behavior in opposition to how I started looking up info about children with ADHD for the next chapter.

And a word about this chapter : I know that there are a few plot conveniences there and there, especially at the end with the escape, but I tried to make them as cohesive with the story as possible or make them related to future technology, so I hope it doesn’t take people out of the story. Though I guess the inaccuracies with how royalty works is what is the most likely to take people out of the story.

As for Cav’s parents, I hope I was descriptive enough. But if you want more info about their appearance, don’t hesitate to ask ! Just don’t expect a drawing since I can’t draw to save my life 😅. And for their names, after looking up British names I decided to settle with Victoria and William but maybe it could change ? I mean I’m pretty sure William has something to do with the current royal family but I don’t know shit about the British royal family. I didn’t really look anything up about them since this chapter has more of a made-up royalty.

Thanks again for reading and stay tuned for chapter two, in which, after learning about the prince, we’re now jumping into the life of the pauper !

#Milo Murphy's Law #mml #Balthazar Cavendish #my fanfics #As Time Passes #Cav be like : #'aren't you tired of being nice ? #don't you want to go apeshit ?' #hope this chapter is good ! #it sure was longer than expected #and yet it still feels like it goes too fast #oh well #now time to wonder how long chapter two will be #As Time Passes Prologue

[shipmistress9]

D E F G H I J K L M N O P, Q R S T U V, W X Y and Z 😇😉. I sung the alphabet while writing this as well 😂. You don’t have to answer all of them though, just pick which ones you want 😊.

🤣🤣🤣

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

My fandom life would be easier if I liked Heathstrid at least a little bit... But I can’t and I don’t really want to, either...

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

The oneshots Spin The Bottle and Pick Me Up.

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

Given that I only learned about the existence of fandom as a concept in late 2016, the longest I’ve ever been in a fandom is roughly 4,5 years.

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

Many! Currently it’s Hiccstrid and Hicretstrid. And maybe a little Zelink. But thinking back, I think my very first OTP was when I was around five years old. From the Captain Tsubasa anime series, Tsubasa and... I don’t even know her name... 🤣 There was this girl who always cheered him on and was his no.1 fan. ANd in hindsight, I think I also shipped Tsubasa... with nearly all other players, mainly, Taro Misaki, Jun Misugi, and Kojiro Hyuga. 🤣

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

TV-shows, mostly. I prefer the visuals over books and I prefer the slower development over those in movies.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

Not caused me to stop liking them. But in some cases (ATLA and TDP, to name two) it raised my expectations so high that, when I finally got to dip into them, I was rather underwhelmed. It also didn’t help that I already knew the ending and some major plot points. If there’s one sure way to dampen my excitement it’s spoilers.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

Supernatural. Pretty much all other fandoms I dip into occasionally, I knew at least a little before. But literally everything I know about Supernatural is from seeing posts here. 🤣

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

I can’t think of an individual character right now, but in general an arc I like is someone (re-)learning to trust.

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

Snotlout has a great relationship with his dragon. Valka, too. Gobber and the twins are always fun, in their own ways.

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Already answered before.

Hmm... First, I wanted to say Astrid. And I'd enjoy having her as a friend, as someone to challenges me to be more active, to work on my skills and someone to talk.

But I think, I'd enjoy being friends with Hiccup, too. I'd like to brainstorm ideas, ponder over inventions and exchange ideas. Geek out about dragons!

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

Acceptance, respect, and some common sense. But that’s not just fandom...

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

My very long list of favoured songs randomly gave me 9 Crimes by Damien Rice. There once was an absolutly stunning AMV with this song about the TV-show The Legend Of The Seeker, The Sword Of Truth (based on the books by Terry Goodkind). I was deeply in love with Richard’s and Kahlan’s relationship, and with Cara on a general level. That AMV featured them all, and I loved it!

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

Oh, oh, oh, oh! I just thought about this modern meet-cute AU for Hiccstrid a few days back, might as well write it down here. (And will also copy it over into an individual post, I think...)

Hiccup is a single father of a three-years-old daughter. One day, he meets Astrid in a supermarket; she’s in front of him at the check-out and when he hears her voice, he’s stunned. Because he knows her voice, hears it every day. Because she lend her voice to one of these talking toys for toddlers.His daughter’s favourite toy.

Hiccup always liked that toy best, too, because it didn’t sound as annoying as most others. Pleasant even. When he sees and hears Astrid, he recognises her voice in an instant. He jokingly thanks her for making his days more bearable. She’s confused, who is this weirdo? So he tries to explain. “The toy. My daughter’s toy. It’s your voice. A pleasant voice. I listen to it every day.” He keeps getting weirder, stammers, turns red like a tomato, until he eventually just flees, wishing a hole would open up to swallow him, that was so embarrassing.

Meanwhile, Astrid is touched. Knowing that there is at least one little girl who likes the toy she helped create. And her father, apparently. Who had been cute. In how shy he’d been. And how excited. She’s sorry he left before she was able to talk to him and thank him.

Over the next days, Hiccup would think of her a lot. Every time he hears her voice again, he’d think of her. Her face. Her smile. Until they, eventually, meet again... ^^

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

Answered before

None, really. There are several fandoms I grew out of, like Sailor Moon or Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne. But I wouldn't say I abandoned them. I still enjoy seeing content about them.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Those of the rider with their dragons. Hiccup&Toothless. Astrid&Stormfly.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Pretty much all of my headcanons are about Hiccstrid in one way or combination. One of my personal favourites is that Astrid has a tiny birthmark on the back of her neck. She doesn’t even know it’s there, she can’t see it and it’s almost always covered by her hair anyway. But Hiccup knows it’s there. And he loves to place a kiss on it. It tickles and would always make her giggle. And she smells so nice.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

*snorts* No. If there are people who don’t share my headcanons, then... they don’t have to? I can live and be friends with people regardless of whether we share the same headcanons or not. And if people keep attacking me for mine, I’ll just block them and walk away. Arguing about something like that is not worth my time.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Astrid. HTTYD.

erm...

uh...

I really have difficulties thinking of favourites from any other fandoms here! xD

uhm...

Princess Zelda from Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Kaladin Stormblessed from the Stormlight Archives.

I might have a type here. Brave, strong, not always easy to deal with. Fiercely loyal. Stubborn. Proud. Honourable. that’s all three of them. ^^

V - Which character do you relate to most?

Same answer as the above, mostly. I think I already wrote a long answer to a similar question once. 🤔 I relate to Astrid in many ways. Loyal and reliable, not always easy to approach, often prefers to deal with her problems on her own instead of asking for help.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Anything jealously, especially it being portrayed as a sign of love or dedication. But also love triangles. Unnecessary.

Another thing I don’t like is when there’s a misunderstanding and they argue about it and get angry and yell and have a huge falling-out... when it all just boils down to them not listening.

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

Answered before.

Forbidden Romance. In any form. I just love the angsty tension it brings without the characters fighting or arguing about misunderstandings.

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

Supernatural, ATLA, TDP, MCU.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

With all the critical thinking that’s encouraged in fandom culture, I wish more people would remember Ratatouille and this quote by Anton Ego.

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.”

-- Anton Ego (Ratatouille)

Or at least respect it. It’s called entertainment and not lecture about every little detail that is wrong with other people’s opinions. I get why it’s important to look deeper and question meanings and intentions, I really do. But sometimes, I’d prefer to at least occasionally just enjoy something without getting lectured by others for it.

_____

Thank you! 😘💜

#ask #drakaina-amore64 #ask game #long post

[iscream4clones]

Hello my absolutely stunning, gorgeous, talented, wonderful followers!! There is now 200+ of you and I am BROKEN.

My blog is like…. 8? 9? Weeks old??? Never in a million years would I have believed someone if they told me I would make it this far with so much support.

There’s literally so much I want to say to all of you. How I made this blog during a really difficult time in my life and I was met with nothing but positivity and support. How I often go back and read your lovely comments and feedback on my work to make my days better. How much I love seeing you all share your wonderful creativity in so many different forms. How my list of fics to read is literally endless because y’all are just so talented and I want to drown in it. 

I could get endlessly sappy but I’m just going to get right to it and show all the plans I have to show my appreciation for all of you.

Honestly I had so many ideas for a follower celebration, and I really thought I was set on one…. But then I decided I want all of you to decide what you want!

First voting group: Clone content! Please vote for ONE in this group AND one for the second group! Your vote will help me decide on what I am going to put most of my energy and focus on for the time being. Feedback or comments on the content is allowed, but I will attribute one vote per person.

Hozier inspired Wolffe x Reader fic (which may turn into multiple chapters! But I can’t 100% promise this): by choosing this, it means you want me to focus solely on writing this fic. This will mean less overall content from me as I focus most of my attention to this one.

Drabble parties: drabble parties will be like rapid fire drabbles… I will make a post signifying they are open, and I will answer as many drabble requests as possible within a certain time limit. Everything I do not get to will be deleted, however there may be one lucky request that I will keep to turn into a longer drabble, headcannons, or even a full fic! I might also combine the remaining requests to make one big fic)

Soft Fives collection: essentially I will just write a collection of very soft fics/drabbles/hcs for Fives only

Soft Rex collection: essentially I will just write a collection of very soft fics/drabbles/hcs for Rex only

Crack smut: I’ve never written smut in my life, and I’m asexual. I will make an attempt to write smut for a clone of my choosing and it will be horrible and probably not enjoyable. Or it could turn out to be wonderfully steamy? No one will know until it’s done.

Second voting group: Miscellaneous content! When I’m not working on clone content, this is the second thing I will be bringing my attention to. Again feedback is welcome especially for this grouping, and might be weighted more than the actual votes. However, still please only vote for ONE.

More poetry: not much to say here, I’ll just focus on writing and posting more poetry

Being asexual in a sexual fandom: I’ve actually tried to write this a few times but my thoughts are scattered. If this is voted for I will just make sure to take time and organize my thoughts

Content about my OC, Neiza: This will probably be a mix of things like character refs, maybe some artwork, picrews of her, headcannons, fics, or drabbles. Might also include “interview hour” where you can ask me questions about Neiza during that time.

Padme and a self conscious reader going shopping drabble/fic: this idea randomly came to me one day and I thought it would be fun!

Suicide awareness month mental health support/my story/tips/coping mechanisms/etc.: Really this sounds weird, but by selecting this I would essentially write a short success story about my struggles and successes with fighting depression and suicide with hopes that it could help people. I do have a psychology degree so I will probably include some interesting viewpoints from a clinical/educational standpoint rather than just my own feelings and recollections of events. Being open about mental health is important and I am very willing to share my experiences if it shows people it’s ok to talk about themselves and their struggles openly.

Art: I could just… post some of my art. And maybe start making more of it. Give me an excuse to buy paint and materials

How to vote: comment on this post, send me a message, an ask, or talk to me on discord. Voting will end whenever I feel I have enough votes, but I will definitely announce a date when that time gets close. 

Now that the business is all over, time to share some additional love <3

Special shout out to my lovely clone hoes whom I literally love with all my being. I can’t express how much I adore and cherish all of you and I love you all SO MUCH:

@bad-batch-of-fics @lizzyolanda1966 @captainrexisboo @your-clone-boyfriend

And some love and appreciate for some mutuals/followers who always support my work <3 I see you and I love you:

@simping-for-fives @nelba @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @anakinswhore @ahsokatano-thetogruta @icanbringyouincold @jyvorakal @fiveshotsofjager @ollovaemisc @kote-ko @javorszarvas6 @000ayfh @leias-left-hair-bun and everyone else I forgot to tag! I tried to go through my activity but it is a mess.

I literally cannot express how much I appreciate every single one of you, followers and mutuals, and for all of the support and kindness you have shown. You’re all absolutely precious and deserve the world. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart <3

#allison is screaming #200 followers #200 follower celebration

[wildroseofarran]

Into the Umbra || Pete, MJ, Guildias, Abel, & Rosmond || March, 2020

MJ/Guildias: Midas would be good from this night forth, with designated things to knock down to make his point. Abel in his rat terrier form, sitting menacingly on MJ's shoulder while they conversed, paying no mind to him whatsoever, like a looming promise, seemed to do the trick. Staying the night at Peter's felt surreal, and in a sense, wrong. Their relationship wasn't as clean of a slate as he would have liked, but he couldn't deny himself a glance through rose-tinted lenses at what had been.

He would have insisted on a room of his own with Abel, distancing himself enough not to feel completely guilty come the next night, when Guildias knocked on Peter's door. Together, they excused themselves for a quick trip to Gertrude Draegan, establishing his presence and, against Peter's judgement, explained his intended rescue operation. The two returned an hour later, pulling up in front of Peter's house in a black Lincoln Navigator. James Rosmond, dressed in a black felt jacket, remained behind the wheel.

Pete: Even had MJ not insisted, Pete still would've set him up in the guest room. They were starting fresh and that meant a romantic relationship between the two of them didn't currently exist. As such, the guest room was the only option.

He'd looked on in amusement as MJ gave Midas a talking to with Abel's silent but very present assistance, pleased that it seemed to have worked.

The next day when Midas wanted attention, he only knocked over what he was allowed to and was rewarded handsomely with treats and affection.

Pete was in the middle of doling out said affection when the SUV pulled up.

"Looks like a goddamn mafia lieutenant," he muttered to himself, turning away from the window so his glare wouldn't be seen.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: MJ and Guildias came to the door as one. No Callum in sight. The SUV remained warm and rumbling. Rosmond's first field operation since the Embrace. Waylon Dahlberg and Leslie Issott a few taps on his antiquated cellphone, should the expertise of a witch be required.

There he would wait, as Peter and the familiar named Abel were gathered for their expedition.

"Gertrude insisted," MJ explained. "Said it would be good for him. Probably t'keep an eye on us."

Guildias leaned against the doorway. "We represent Edenton, whether we like it or lump it. If something catastrophic were to happen, Raleigh mustn't be privy to the embarrassment."

Pete/Abel: Pete opened the door with a frown that was matched by Abel's as he appeared behind him.

"Dude, come on," said Abel, his tone heartily disapproving. "I thought we agreed you were gonna go in, observe the niceties, and get out. Why'd you go and tell her? She's not the boss of the Umbra!"

A sentiment Pete echoed. "The only catastrophe will be if we fail to get that kid, I couldn't care less about Gertrude's potential embarrassment. Like Raleigh gives one single shit about a human child, they probably didn't even notice."

MJ: "Since when did the two of ya start parroting each other? This be a sewin' circle while we were out?"

Abel: "He fed me chicken and rice casserole," said Abel. "We bonded. But still! Now some goon is gonna watch us the whole time and learn shit about us. It's like taking a cop on a heist."

Guildias: "More akin to taking a bodyguard and former assassin," said Guildias. "Trust me, Mr. Harrington, the man has no personality to speak of."

Abel: Abel peeked around Guildias at the SUV and turned to Pete. “You’re right, it does look like a mafia lieutenant car.” The windows were so dark he couldn’t even see the goon.

“All right, so. Is Mr. No Personality coming in or what?”

MJ/Guildias: MJ just snickered. "If it weren't for ya breakin' physics we'd have a Scooby-doo van. Ya know, for work."

"We have hours of drive ahead of us and little night. Rosmond encourages you to bring water," Guildias smirked at Peter.

Pete/Abel: “If we did have a Scooby-doo van, it would have to break physics, too, so we wouldn't have to drive around for hours. Does the mafia lieutenant really want to drive?”

Pete just sighed and went to the kitchen to fill up a water bottle.

MJ/Guildias: "Expect the unexpected." And a lack of trust for a familiar's magic from both Setite and Giovanni. Being backed by a Ravnos did little for confidence; less post-merge.

"Stopped by the RV for some shit. Should have everything," said MJ. "Let's go, Abe. Come meet the mafia."

Abel: "You said yourself we only have a little bit of night to do this and he wants to spend a chunk of it driving." Abel shook his head and grabbed his jacket. "This is why you don't bring a cop." He heaved a great sigh. "All right, let's go meet the mafia."

MJ/Guildias: "We got gear. Got shit if the kid needs moved. Can't just show up at a place ya ain't even seen. Can ya even move five people n'gear t'some place ya ain't even been, dude?" Asked while tugging him by the shirt. No standing and talking. Movement.

Guildias waited quietly for Peter.

Pete/Abel: "I can move four people and gear thanks to the booster spell and talismans I got from X and Ramsay. You know, like we planned. The news reported on it, pictures of the house and the kid are everywhere and the address wasn't hard to find. How do you think I grabbed your ass from that scary place with the giant glass tank? Magic, my guy."

Pete returned a few moments later wearing a jacket and carrying a small pack. "What are my chances of not having to ride with the prince's goon and just following behind in my own car?"

MJ/Guildias: "Magic - ya read my mind! Kinda different from pictures on a screen." Or in Rosmond's case, a printed map to a craftsman foursquare a few miles outside of Raleigh. The route was simple enough and already memorized.

MJ pulled from his inner jacket pocket a long enticing stick of LaffyTaffy. A peace offering handed over without word.

"Let's not over-complicate matters," said Guildias. "Has he outwardly wronged you?"

Pete/Abel: Abel opened his mouth, fully prepared to say more, but the appearance of the candy had it closing again. He accepted it with a smile. "Okay, I love you again. Let's meet Mr. Wet Blanket. Does he actually have no personality or was Guildias exaggerating?"

"Matters are already complicated," said Pete. "We're dipping into the Veil. I'd just rather not have Gertrude's ears and eyes adding to the tension. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done and we have shit to do."

MJ/Guildias: "Ya tell me," MJ smirked, opening one of the doors for Abel. Black interior and spacious, which was the point. Easy to label safety measures as cliche, but there they were.

"That still doesn't answer my question. Seems to be the one area you and Callum disagree."

Pete/Abel: Abel poked his head into the car and looked around. 'Woowwwww,' he thought to MJ. 'It's very la cosa nostra in here.' Out loud, he greeted the driver. "Hey, man."

"You of all people should know why I don't think fondly of the prince. Isn't that reason enough to not want him to be part of this?" He was almost certain telling Gertrude had been Guildias' idea, or maybe even his doing. "Let's just go."

Pete locked the door behind him and walked to the car, hearing his mentor's voice in his head telling him to take things in stride.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: Abel was gently shoved forward. He wasn't going to bother reminding him to mind his manners.

A youngish-looking man, blond, eyes like dying grass, observed from the rear-view mirror. Chiseled from some other era. Stoic as a garden statue.

"Mr. Harrington," he greeted. Something in those two words was not quite North Carolina. Something more melodic and silky than one might expect from that face.

"For the man he once was," said Guildias, waiting to fall into step with the Fera. The door was opened for Peter, and it was Guildias climbing into the backseat. A choice made so MJ didn't have to. Rosmond watched expectedly as MJ took his place in the front passenger seat.

"I'll be y'all's DJ for the next hour(sss). We start our adventure with some Reba."

Pete/Abel: Having spent so long in the company of an alias-loving demon, it was more than a little unsettling to be called by his actual name, especially by someone that looked so...stony. Abel wasn't entirely sure he liked it. "Yep, that's me. You don't have to call me mister. And your name...?"

"Rosmond," said Pete, settling in between Abel and Guildias. "His name is Rosmond."

MJ/Guildias: The drive would have been quiet if not for MJ's music. Their driver offered nothing by means of conversation. Neither did Guildias, content with tilting back in his seat and adjusting large gold and brown hexagonal Ray-Bans.

MJ took initiative to sing. Juggling lemons which disappeared randomly, forced back with a bit of concentration. Minutes before arrival, Abel was finally given attention by the Setite.

"Is he always like this?"

Pete/Abel: While Pete didn't normally go for country, MJ's singing provided both distraction and entertainment. The ride was giving him way too much time to think.

Abel shook his head. "Nope. Sometimes he juggles oranges."

MJ/Guildias: "An improvement, then. It's time you upgrade to grapefruit."

"Ha. Easy." But what materialized in his hands looked too yellow. One looked more like Jupiter with various rings of decay. Not quite. He stared for some time, trying to find the appropriate color of a citrus he'd forgotten.

Abel: Abel leaned forward in his seat for a better view.

"Too yellow. Go for a slightly bigger orange that's a yellowy orange color."

MJ/Rosmond: Bigger than this? Roughly the size of both fists, then, and now a rotten lemon in shade.

"Too brown," said Rosmond.

Abel: "Slightly smaller. Think softball or....yeah no, just think softball."

MJ/Guildias: Guildias pulled his phone from pocket. Many years out of date. Complete with keyboard. He leaned forward and presented a stock photo.

"Huh," MJ sighed, trying one more time with Abel's advice and Guildias' image.

The texture wasn't quite there, but an improvement.

Abel: "Ah, you got it! Well done, well done. We're gonna have you juggling citrus of all persuasions before you know it."

To Guildias he said, "I thought your people hated tech?"

Guildias: "We're not part of the ivory tower; but it comes with its own set of rules."

Abel: The hell was the ivory tower? Something to ask MJ later on.

"Gotta live the burner phone life, man."

Guildias/Rosmond: "What makes you think I'm not?"

Rosmond had nothing to add. With the same silence, he drove the SUV quietly onto a dirt road and into a snug patch of forest. The engine was killed, keys stuffed in his pocket.

"Mr. Harrington, I would appreciate your assistance." A brief look back to Guildias. Both men climbed out of the vehicle.

Abel: "That phone you have has internet access. I'm talking the circa-2004-Nokia-phone-that-only-has-Snake-on-it burner phone life."

He peered out the windows at their destination, metaphorical antenna up for anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm all ears, but really, please call me Abel."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: The driver's side door was shutting. Guildias gestured for Abel to follow him. Meanwhile, MJ climbed into the back with Peter.

"Stake out shit," he sighed. Normally his forte in the duo, and normally Xavier's forte in the trio. For now, grapefruit had been replaced by pink and blue golf balls, rolled in a single hand.

"You won't be getting a first name from our acquaintance, my friend," Guildias whispered. "That is not a hill to die on."

"Cameras and other security systems need to first be addressed. By any means." Rosmond looked expectedly to the snake, already stepping deeper into the woods where Rosmond pointed. To the house hidden behind a near quarter mile of bracken and sagging branches.

Pete/Abel: Pete nodded, peering out the window as Abel had. "Kinda wanna roll the window down and see if I can smell anything else that might be out there. It occurred to me about fifty miles ago that we might not be the only ones with an interest in this."

Abel looked from Guildias to the man called Rosmond. Did the guy ever crack a smile? Or a joke? Or blink? "I'm annoyingly persistent," he whispered back. "But I'll take your word for it."

He was itching to turn into his animal form but that wasn't wise for two reasons: one, he felt uncomfortable doing so without MJ around. Two, he wouldn't be able to communicate with them.

"There's a few spells for that. Glamours that could hide us while we do what we need to do without being seen."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "What, like fae? Ain't that their thing, stealin' children n'shit?" MJ reached over Peter's lap for the door, opening it a crack. He wanted to take his rebirth behind the masquerade seriously.

Rosmond followed behind by a few feet. "Observation," he reminded. "Mr. Calloway and Graham will utilize your information."

"Still the bodyguard?" Guildias looked over his shoulder, smirk in his eyes.

"Supervision." With Gertrude's insistence. Field work with new capacity. A test of responsibility he would not take lightly.

The same craftsman foursquare from the printed page. New paint job. Manicured lawn. A plastic colorful play set in the backyard. A silver truck and red sedan in the front yard. Porch light on. Lights off save for the second floor in two rooms.

Pete/Abel: "Some of them, yeah. Could be anyone though, including some weirdo human." It was never a good idea to underestimate the weirdos.

Pete scooted close enough to the door to where he could stick his nose out and scented the air.

Well, Abel thought, these two seemed fairly uninterested in magic. Which begged the question of why Rosmond had asked for his assistance.

He looked at the house with a frown. It looked so normal. Nothing about it gave away what had happened inside.

"Poor souls," he sighed to himself.

MJ/Guildias: "You were called 'pup' last night. We'll need that right now, if you're willing to oblige," said Guildias, softly for the semblance of privacy.

Meanwhile, MJ watched Peter with fascination. "What can ya smell?"

Pete/Abel: Abel turned to Guildias, ignoring the knot in his gut. Although whether it was more to do with the impending journey into the Umbra or the thought of transforming without MJ, he couldn't say for sure. "I am--" sort of, "--but I won't be able to communicate with you. Unless you practice telepathy?"

Pete inhaled deeply. "You. Soil. Some sort of body of water nearby. Vampire."

MJ/Guildias: "We'll be right here. You see what you see and come back to us. Door cams, police surveillance. Do not put yourself in unnecessary danger. I'll be right behind you."

MJ smiled privately. "That all? Lions, tigers, bears, oh my?"

Pete/Abel: "I'm not putting myself in any danger at all," Abel said with a grin, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little silver pendant. It was small, about the size of a nickel, and inscribed with what appeared to be several runic symbols.

Abel clipped it on the necklace he was already wearing so it rested beside his 'A' pendant.

"Okay, so this is gonna hide me from view and muffle any sounds I make, but you should still be able to hear my footsteps if you listen close."

Pete chuckled. "None of them around, only us. Good sign I guess."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "A little more elaborate than a stray dog wandering about," said Guildias. "If the task is completed, then by all means."

Rosmond remained nearby a tree, hands to his sides, observing like the statue Abel imagined him as.

Guildias took a step forward, disappearing behind a tree and then altogether.

"The more borin' the better," MJ nodded. "Ain't supposed t'be a heist."

Pete/Abel: "People tend to approach small dogs, to either pet them or to try and help them. Sometimes I'll get a treat out of the deal but we've gotta be stealthier today." Abel took one more second to make sure the necklace was secure before chanting a small incantation.

He hadn't quite finished when he slowly started to fade from view, his voice growing fainter and fainter as if he were moving far away. A moment later he was gone completely, and only once he was hidden did he feel safe enough to transform.

'I'm in dog form,' he thought to MJ, chain and pendants jingling as he shook himself off. 'Also invisible. Just wanted to give you the head's up.'

Pete nodded as well. "Yeah. Sure feels like one though. Still can't quite believe we're gonna do what we're about to do. It's like my brain can't process it."

MJ/Guildias: Guildias remained on the outskirts, watchful of sinking grass under invisible feet that would be Abel. Watchful for a police car, something. After a bout of silence, he pulled from his coat various colored loupes, bringing each to his eye as he searched for an outward sign of entry. Some indication of where to begin.

MJ sat up straight, looking off to nowhere as though suddenly lost in thought. And then like that, it was over.

"This is sorta been my thing for a while now. Not rescuin' kids, but I mean, the weird shit it comes with."

Pete/Abel: The movement in the sinking grass would indicate a methodical survey around the house. Abel slowly circled it, alternating between sniffing around and watching and listening for any movement or sign that something was amiss. Aside from the obvious, of course.

Since he couldn't speak to Guildias, he thought his observations at MJ. 'Everything's pretty quiet. I smell new paint but I can still smell two kids. One scent is stronger than the other. There's another scent too, can't identify it just yet.' A few beats of silence. 'It's so frustratingly normal.'

"You're sounding more like Robin Hood by the second. Does your demon friend help too?" Pete looked over at MJ. "You okay?"

MJ/Guildias: Every image given to MJ was filed away. This would be vital later. One thing to look out for. That new trend.

'Check the door for one of them cams. I don't think they'll have anything else.'

After a wide circle of the entire property, Guildias returned to Rosmond's side. Reappeared as easily as a blink, and waited for the familiar.

"Yeah," MJ smiled. "N'yeah, m'good. We can start headin' over."

Pete/Abel: 'Copy that.'

Abel looped around again to check out the back door. That's where people tended to have cameras and other security measures, since it couldn't be seen from the street. Of course, humans didn't realize the real threats didn't need cover to attack.

'I see it. Small camera pointed at the back door. Simple, the kind an alarm company would offer to their customers. Fixed position, probably connects to their Wi-Fi network.'

Pete took a deep breath. "All right, let's do this, Robin Hood."

MJ: 'To zap the power lines or do my cloak shit.' To fuck the power lines would bring someone out and shorten their window further. 'Keep sendin' me a view. Check the front door, too. We're headin' that way.'

MJ looked back for Peter, a look on his face as though surprised to see him. Telepathy was disorienting.

"What's your plan?"

Pete/Abel: 'Cutting power attracts attention and utility people. I think cloaking is the way to go.'

Back again to the front of the house. A few of the windows had stickers with a company logo on them; probably the same company that had supplied the camera.

Moving as silently as he could, Abel climbed the front steps and inspected the porch. 'They have a doorbell camera too. Movement usually triggers the censor on those.'

Pete sighed as he zipped up his jacket and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "Honestly? I don't fuckin' know, man. Abel's got this spell to turn me into a beacon or a lighthouse so this kid can find me but what if it doesn't work?"

MJ: "He's got a what now?" MJ laughed. "I'll bet ya real money that light freaks out the snake."

Which reminded him, speaking with Abel, to find a path with the least amount of trees.

'We'll focus on the backyard. I need the cam's perspective real quick and I got it.'

Pete/Abel: "I only understood about half his explanation but basically it's going to make it easier for us to find the kid in the Umbra so we're not there longer than we absolutely have to be. Time's already fucky over there."

'Good call. Tread lightly,' Abel added before rejoining the two vampires. A quick incantation to reverse the spell and he slowly blinked back into existence, once again in human form.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "I wouldn't know." They came upon two figures. Guildias handing over the various colored loupes to Rosmond. Green glass was brought to his eye.

"Ya get the cam's perspective?" whispered to Abel, not the least bit surprised by his sudden appearance.

Rosmond looked back for Peter. He offered the glass by its brass handle. Pointed towards the furthest wall of the back of the house. A small opening like smears on the glass broken by some nonexistent void light. The glass of course was spotless.

"That is where you will breach."

Pete/Abel: ‘It’s pointed at the back door,’ Abel thought to him. ‘At most it’s getting a tiny bit of the backyard and the back porch. It’s not super sophisticated.’

Pete accepted the glass and held it to his eye.

So that was what a portal into the Veil looked like. It was nothing like he would’ve expected. Didn’t even look sinister.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: The telepathy put another smile on his face. "Ros ain't so fast t'kill us all." Two different expressions turned their attention upon the pair. One of bored neutrality, the other a smirk.

"Which of you can lure the occupants inoffensively?" asked Rosmond.

"I got that," said MJ. "Goin' in." Rosmond waited several steps before following behind. Watched as the trickster honed in on the small white device near the ceiling of the small back porch. His hands came together. Middle fingers wrapped over index fingers and touched. A halved orb, no bigger than a snow globe, attached itself to the camera.

'Actually, I ain't got that. Busy here. Can ya bark?'

Pete/Abel: "Hey!" Abel gave MJ a smack on the arm. "Be an agent of chaos after we finish our mission," he whisper yelled, though there was amusement in his eyes.

Pete studied the portal a moment longer and handed the glass back. He felt like starting at it too long would make him lose his nerve or fry his brain or something. Everything about this felt completely out of his depth.

Abel, who had made his way over to stand by Pete, suddenly seemed to lose himself in thought.

'Do you just want me to bark or should I make myself known and distract them?'

MJ: 'Nothin' human. We need sweet lost animal.'

Abel: 'Invisible innocent barking, gotcha.'

"Be back in a sec," Abel announced out loud before activating his spell again and transforming back into a dog.

He wanted to stay close enough to the house to be heard while also not drawing attention toward any of them, so he moved a few feet away in the opposite direction of everything before letting out the most pitiful little bark anyone ever did hear.

MJ/Rosmond: A sound which worked almost instantly to stir the house. Another bark and the porch light switched on. MJ knelt in place, focused on the camera as Rosmond waited around the corner. A woman with deep warm skin and tired eyes first looked out the window before opening the back door. She clicked her tongue.

Abel: Gotcha, Abel thought to himself.

He changed locations to give the illusion that he was wandering around lost and barked again, even adding a whine for good measure and shaking himself so his pendants would jingle.

He sort of felt like the pied piper but not sinister.

MJ/Rosmond: It was enough for her to descend the steps. She turned her head this way and that in search of what sounded like a little dog, to be greeted instead by a blond figure twice her size, hand clasped firmly over her mouth.

"You didn't see my face. You're exhausted. You deserve to sleep. Dream of your son."

Her expression softened, and Rosmond removed his hand. Her arms fell to her sides, and she turned, walking slowly back inside with the vampire at her heels.

MJ, caught up in what he'd just witnessed, damn near dropped his glamour.

Abel: It caught Abel by surprise as well. He very nearly barked for real and ran toward the woman and whatever the hell Rosmond was doing to her until she calmly walked back inside.

'What the fuck was that!?' he thought to MJ. 'Did you know he was going to do that?'

MJ/Guildias: 'Knew he was gonna do somethin'. Didn't know it was fuckin' that.' How the fuck did he do that? It felt familiar. Something he knew, or seen, or experienced. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

One by one, the upstairs bedrooms darkened.

Guildias took to the porch, patting MJ's shoulder along the way.

"It's your time to shine, Peter."

Pete/Abel: 'Well shit, that's an important detail to keep to himself. Is he always this bad at communicating?' Abel returned to where Pete was, making himself human and visible again.

"Oh no it's not," he said, reaching back into his pockets and pulling out even more pendants. Some were round, some polygonal, but all were made of perfectly clear crystal. The ones that were on short strings were placed on Pete's wrist and the one on the longer string was put around his neck. "Can't go walking in there without activating you first."

MJ/Guildias: 'He's the boss right now. Ain't gotta tell us shit.' It was still jarring, watching a mere ghoul rank before his very eyes. Someone he'd been forced to steal from Guildias' basement years ago under Victoria Harrak's orders, now working in tandem. Felt less real than what they were about to do.

"Activating him?" asked Guildias.

Pete/Abel: 'Says who? We're all bringing something to the table. He's being withholding, plain and simple.' It was just the sort of behavior he expected from someone with the demeanor of a statue.

Abel focused back on the task at hand, nodding at Guildias' question. "Yep. Sending him into the Umbra blind is a suicide mission, so I found something to help." The origin of which he would keep to himself. Wouldn't do to go revealing privileged information willy-nilly.

"These crystals are gonna turn our Petey boy into a lighthouse so he can find the little boy, or so the little boy can find him. Petey, did you bring your flashlight like I told you?"

Pete nodded.

"And a weapon?"

"I have a pocketknife?"

"That'll do. Extra sweater?"

Another nod.

"Snack?"

Yet another nod.

"Good man."

Guildias: Guildias took Peter's wrist in three fingers, gently, to examine the crystals. Sunglasses resting on his head, hair now in a bun.

"If the Umbra will have me, I intend to go with him," he said. "Whatever you face will not be alone."

Pete: The crystals, though beautiful, looked completely innocuous. Indeed, it was hard to tell how something so unremarkable could serve as anything but an adornment.

But then that was the beauty of magic.

That caught Pete by surprise. "You want to come with me?"

Guildias: "Did you think you were walking into the unknown alone? That I or anyone here would allow that?"

Pete/Abel: Rosmond would certainly allow it, Pete thought.

"I mean, I assumed Abel might join me."

"Which I will," said Abel.

Guildias: "That will leave what remains to guard in our absence. Shall we?" Guildias opened his hand towards the still open door.

Abel: "Not so fast there. If the Umbra does let you in, you'll need this."

Abel reached into another pocket for yet another pendant, or rather three. These were again shaped like coins and each was on a silver chain. He put one on and offered the other two to Pete and Guildias respectively.

"From what I understand, it's very easy to get lost in there. These will help us find each other if we get separated. They feel warm when we're together and colder the farther away we get from each other. Magical buddy system."

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: "And you just happened to have three." Guildias smiled.

Rosmond filled the doorway, looked between the three and their shared necklaces. That answered his intended question.

"This way." To the laundry room just behind the kitchen.

"Don't y'all come back armless n'shit," called MJ in whisper, watching Peter for as long as he was able.

The small room was unassuming, plain white, and saturated in the scent of fabric softener. Two cat dishes sat atop of the dryer, already opened by Rosmond.

"It's the wall itself," he explained. "Spills outside." The green loupe was offered to Peter. "Keep it with you to find your way back."

Pete/Abel: "I have five actually!" Abel produced another two from his pocket. "One for MJ if he wanted to come and one for the kid so we don't lose him once we manage to get him."

Pete made to follow Rosmond, but not before shooting MJ a smile. "I'll do my best," he whispered back, finally following Rosmond to the laundry room.

God, it looked so normal. Unsettlingly so. Why of all places had a portal opened here?

He accepted the glass. "Thanks. Guess there's nothing left but to do it."

Guildias/Rosmond: "Manage your breathing. Keep calm. Do not separate." Words of advice Gertrude had given to pass along, and while sound, still seemed hollow coming from inexperienced lips. This would not always be the case, but Rosmond's experience would not begin tonight.

There was no sense in asking which would be the first to enter. The choice was only one to Guildias' knowledge. Quietly, he took a knee near the wall, looking up expectantly to Peter.

Pete/Abel: "Just focus on the necklace, Petey," said Abel. "Warm is good, warm is safe."

Pete nodded and tucked the buddy system pendant into his shirt. "Warm is safe. Okay."

Manage his breathing and stay calm. Pretty much what his mentor had told him over and over when he was struggling. He tried to hear Gaetan's voice now, tried to feel as centered as he had in Gaetan's presence.

Like stepping into the river, he told himself, taking a few deep breaths. This was just stepping into cool rushing water.

He entered the portal.

Guildias: A stench like primordial soup thick enough to taste. A heavy, cold, gel-like substance clung to Peter's entire being. Underneath his clothes and against his scalp. In his teeth, wet on his tongue, and seeped between fingers, toes, and thighs. The sensation threatened his nostrils and stung at his eyes.

Behind, someone grabbed his foot. Their only line into the Penumbra. That place where walking serpents were not welcome, and those covered in the dust of demonic ash were shunned.

Guildias held useless breath. Pupils slit in the limited light, finding their scenery drastically changed. They were outside. Outside somewhere else, but not. The same number of trees. The same three trees in a near perfect triangle. These trees were larger, older. Almost touched. The plastic playground, once colorful and clean, now covered in moss and mounds of dirt. Aged many years. Half swallowed by the earth.

Guildias got to his feet, reached for Peter and felt for Abel.

The ground was soft. Grass rich and healthy. The world saturated in color, though still blanketed in the same darkness of night.

"Come here," Guildias whispered to Peter, removing his scarf from around his neck.

Pete/Abel: What had he been expecting the Veil to be? Pete couldn't even begin to imagine.

But he did know that whatever slimy reek was covering him head to toe was most certainly not water and boy, did he want to fucking panic.

Would panicking help? No. Did it ever? No. So what was he to do?

Suck it up and pretend it was water. This first and hopefully only foray into the in-between was not about comfort.

Abel felt similarly. This place stunk like nothing had ever stunk before and every single cell that made up his being was absolutely screaming with protest at being here. God, he really hoped the Umbra didn't bounce them out. Could it even do that? Probably.

It was certainly unsettling being here, with everything looking the same but not. Felt like an episode of the Twilight Zone.

"Buddy system," he said, whispering as well. He grasped Guildias' searching hand and reached out for Pete's.

Meanwhile, Pete was moving closer to Guildias.

Guildias: Abel's hand was stuffed in the vampire's jacket. He then proceeded to wrap his black scarf around Peter's neck, careful around his mouth and nose to aid his breathing. Not a concern of his, and Peter was better use to them conscious.

Pete/Abel: Pete gave Guildias a grateful nod and focused on his breathing. He didn't want to speak just yet and tempt fate on the panic attack front, so he just tried to get his bearings and re-center himself.

Abel wasn't faring too much better, but he had the advantage of more magical experience.

"Wonder if I can make a barrier around us," he wondered aloud. "X does it all the time for privacy. Maybe it can work for Umbra lube."

Guildias: "I think the word we're looking for is Gauntlet." That uncomfortable veil which deterred most, but Peter was stronger than that. At least, so far.

"Slowly," he whispered. "Slow and shallow." A thick brown curl was pushed from between his eyes. "When you're ready, you lead."

Pete/Abel: "Gauntlet? Nah. That may be the technical term but this shit has the consistency of lube with none of the fun implications. So, Umbra lube. How we doing over there, Petey?"

Pete gestured with his hand to indicate 'so-so'. The scarf was helping the breathing situation, though. He was massively uncomfortable but no longer in danger of passing out from lack of oxygen.

"Hang in there, champ," said Abel. "We need to wipe his face so he can see."

Guildias: "Keep your eyes closed." The end of the scarf, the side which had been hidden during transition, was used to wipe at his eyelids and around his sockets. The substance was thin, and wiped away relatively easy.

"I assume for your kind this becomes easier."

Finally, Guildias looked back. "How are your eyes?" he asked Abel.

Pete/Abel: Pete didn't have to be told twice; he could barely open his eyes as it was.

"Thank you," he managed, sounding slightly breathless, like he was recovering from a workout.

Abel took a second to assess. "They're good, not great. Tried to duck my head as much as possible when we passed through, so only a little lube got in them."

Pete snorted. "Lube?"

"What else would you call this?"

Guildias: "Indulge the pup. Now, let's assume the child underwent the same treatment. Frightened, cold, in a broken mirror image of a familiar world. Where do you assume a child would go? I have but one theory."

Pete/Abel: Pete slowly blinked while he let his eyes adjust. They didn't sting or anything, but they very badly wanted to water.

"Uh...well. If I was a kid and I was lost, I'd try to find my house. Or at least something that looked familiar and safe."

Guildias: Guildias turned from whence they came. To a house without paint. Sagging with the weight of a tree growing on its roof. Its roots pierced through the ceiling and out through various windows. Spilled out from all sides of the roof and into the ground below. Only one window had stood the test of weight. Opened just wide enough for a little body to wriggle through.

"My assumption went through there."

Pete/Abel: Abel looked uneasily upon the tree. "There's no telling what the inside of that place looks like if this is what the outside looks like. Got your beacons out, Pete?"

Pete looked down at the crystals around his neck. Despite being covered in the same substance as the rest of him, he could swear they were glowing. "Apparently."

"Okay. Time to squeeze through the window. Hold on tight to Gil. I'll hold on tight to him too. Absolutely do not let go of each other."

Guildias: "Do you intend to each claim a foot as some golden prize?" His smile was brief but genuine. The window - kitchen window, from the looks of things - was pushed up until resistant. A tight squeeze, but manageable. They would only need to do this once. Assuming their way home was also in the sham of a laundry room here.

The vampire turned himself into a sitting position halfway through, body shifting in a manner almost unnaturally smooth. The house was blanketed in a dust thick enough to scrape away. Floating in the air in a kind of stasis. The handprint of a child on the fractured marble counter-top. Not a footprint in sight.

Pete/Abel: "In this world it might as well be," said Abel. Contact was the absolute name of the game right now; if they had that, they had a maybe decent chance of getting out of this okay.

Pete grunted as he squeezed through the window, the complete opposite of Guildias' inhuman grace. How'd he get here? How was squeezing through a window in the Veil something he was actually doing?

"Already sick of this place," he muttered in a whisper as he looked around. The handprint was a good indication that they were on the right track; the lack of footprint was not. "What, did this kid fly through here? Does anything look remotely disturbed to either of ya'll?"

Guildias: Guildias took a false breath. The air was stale, and thick with musk. The scent of rust and toiled earth blended almost seamlessly. His olfactory wasn't nearly as keen as he knew the Ravnos' to be. Might have come in handy, but he was otherwise occupied.

"That," he said. His tone suddenly quiet, as the only disturbance was that of roots. Roots which seemed to be breathing.

Pete/Abel: Abel looked uneasily to the tree. Other than the handprint and the open window, there were zero signs of life in here. Except, of course, for the tree. "Normally I'd say no way, buuuuut...."

Pete turned the tree as well. "What, you think the tree grabbed him? Wouldn't there be signs of that?"

"Not necessarily," said Abel. "Should we start hacking away at it? That seems like a bad move. It might attack us."

Guildias: "I think the best course of action would be to explore it. From bottom to top. We know he came in here, so I doubt he'd be on the roof. We can make that our last stop if we haven't found him."

Pete/Abel: Abel nodded. It seemed like a solid enough plan even though they weren't exactly spoiled for choice on how to proceed.

"Okay. So. Who's gonna be the first to touch the tree?"

"I'll do it," said Pete. "Any advice?"

"Uh...don't hurt it. Maybe--would it be weird to ask it for permission? I feel like it can definitely hear us."

Guildias: "No option is off the table. We'll see how it reacts to your nearness."

Guildias considered a moment before stepping down from his counter perch.

"I'll stand behind you. Follow Abel's idea. Hover your hand and ask."

Pete: Pete nodded and took a deep breath. "All right, here goes nothing."

He stepped closer to the tree, moving as cautiously and non-threateningly as he possibly could. If Abel was right and the tree was...sentient? somehow, then it couldn't hurt to be careful and respectful.

"Hello," he said softly, stopping just a couple steps away from the roots. "I'm looking for someone. Could you help me?"

Guildias: Guildias remained just behind, hand hovering over Peter's shoulder the same as Peter to the root. Ready to snatch at the first violent response.

The breathing root recessed from his presence. The tip of the root coiling defensively. A sound like a long hot exhale from within. A sickly-sweet stench blended with the scent of toiled earth.

Pete: So the tree was sentient. Good to have confirmation of that; gave him some idea of how to proceed.

"We're not here to hurt you," he said gently. "We won't hurt you. We just want to take this child home. He doesn't belong in this world. He belongs in our world."

Guildias: Guildias wanted to look back to Abel, but refused to remove his gaze. He would much rather have been wrong. Defense meant the capability of offense. Having any sense of emotion included anger and fear and worse.

A smaller root, hanging uselessly from the middle of the dining room ceiling began to lengthen, coiling away and tightening.

"Get away from it."

Pete/Abel: Pete didn't have to be told twice.

He took a few giant steps back from the tree, instinctively reaching for Abel and Guildias' hands.

Abel, meanwhile, had all his senses on high alert, trying to detect any hint of the little boy beneath the scent of dirt and decay.

Maybe the tree just smelled like that, or maybe they were already too late.

"Is he alive?" he asked the tree.

Guildias: Peter's elbow was gripped firmly, pushed just behind Guildias' arm. The tree his only attention.

The roots breathed again. As the one defensive coil relaxed by an inch, more roots curled. The thickest, larger than their combined mass, seemed to suck in a giant reluctant breath. Its exhale exuded more rotted stench. A low octave sound with humming vibrato. Words, but unintelligible.

Pete/Abel: A few beats of silence followed the...response? After which Pete said, "Either of you happen to speak tree?"

Abel shook his head. His face was set in serious lines, a rare display. "No. But that smell? It's either the tree itself or decomp," he said softly. It didn't necessarily mean it was the kid, but it was definitely something. That smell was unmistakable.

"Gil, any ideas on communication with sentient trees?"

Guildias: Guildias watched the root expand with every alien syllable, becoming impossibly large, beyond any tree of their world to his knowledge. It appeared wet. He suspected its surface sticky. The stench had remained consistent, but there was no conspicuous sign of a struggle, torn clothes, nor smears blood.

"Another time. Up the stairs."

Pete/Abel: Abel nodded. "All right. Come on, Petey, you heard the man."

He grabbed onto each of them and started backing out of the room, not taking his eyes off the tree until they were well clear of it. That wasn't to say one of those freakish roots couldn't stretch out and grab them but Abel felt better being away from it and the smell of death.

"Should we look in the kid's room?" Pete asked, compelled to whisper. "Might be worth a shot. There's no footprints leading this way but maybe...?"

Guildias: "Exactly why we're going upstairs." Through the kitchen, to the stairs separating the living room and kitchen. Stairs partially destroyed by roots and patched by the same. Caked dust on each step but that between the roots. Without disturbance to any of the floor, no area of the house could be overruled.

"Do you wish to sweep what remains of the first floor?" he asked Abel. "I'm more concerned with Peter's respiratory."

Pete/Abel: "Sweeping this much dust is gonna kick it up," said Abel. "I'd need to vacuum and I doubt the Umbra has power, but I'll have a looksee."

Pete shook his head. "I'm fine. Dust is the least of my worries right now. Let's just go to the kid's room. Together." This place was giving him the creeps. He spent a lot of time in the woods, surrounded by trees, but seeing all the branches holding everything together was just...unsettling.

Guildias: "Sweep - surveillance, searching, pup." He supposed his military background had caught the familiar, or this was just a familiar being idiosyncratic as usual. His tone remained patient just the same.

Pete/Abel: "Oh! You soldier types and your jargon." He gave a light smack to Guildias' arm. "In my defense, you mentioned breath--never mind. I'll give the place a once over."

"Abel, maybe you shouldn't--"

"Relax, buddy." Abel smiled. "Ain't going anywhere." He had magic; he didn't need to walk around to sweep the first floor.

He just had to listen, scent the air, put his feelers out for auras and energy signatures and other minds besides theirs. He wasn't looking to go poking around inside anyone's thoughts, he just wanted to get a feel.

For other people and for magic, and hopefully, for the little boy.

Guildias: What he sought would not be found on the first floor, but there was something. A sensation like static from the tree, damp with sentience, and if Abel were to consider above his head, where the static worsened...

Abel: Abel's brow furrowed. He turned his head to the left, waited. To the right, waited again. It wasn't coming from either direction. Then he looked up.

"We're not alone," he whispered after a moment. "I can feel something else here with us besides the tree. Up there somewhere." He pointed up the stairs. "We need to get into that room, it might be the kid. I can't quite make it out."

But first he needed to put out one more feeler so they wouldn't get a nasty surprise.

'Is anybody up there?' he thought in the direction of the second floor.

Guildias: A sleeping mind. That of a dream state. Alive, buzzing as youth often did. Peter's hand was directed to Guildias' jacket, heading up the stairs slowly, lingering on each step for a beat before attempting the next, pausing at the smallest groan of wood. The roots were no hurdle, only a humped bridge of breathing bark.

Abel: There was no response but that could be for any number of reasons. "I'm trying to talk to whoever it is," he told his companions, grabbing Pete's other hand. "They aren't saying anything back. I'll keep trying."

'We're coming up the stairs. It's okay, we aren't here to cause any harm. You're safe.' He reached out with his mind, letting the person or being's energy guide him to where they needed to go.

"This way."

Guildias: "I doubt they'd find much comfort in an invasive thought," Guildias muttered, looking back to inspect Peter's aversion of the root.

Pete/Abel: "Not barging in, Gil. Just ringing the doorbell."

Pete was trying very hard not to step on any bit that looked like it was made of tree root and being only partially successful. For all he knew the tree could feel all of them stepping on it and was waiting for the right time to strike. Maybe it was making Abel believe there was something upstairs when it was really just a trap designed to keep them all here, or worse, devour them whole.

"Are you ringing the doorbell on a person or another tree thing?"

"Jury's still out."

Guildias: "I think hearing a voice not your own in your mind is quite more than a doorbell." Had been his opinion since his most important murder.

The bedroom to the right, above the living room and kitchen, had long ago caved under the immense pressure. The bathroom visible by just a few feet. Its tile shattered and resigned from the walls. To the left, a small bedroom. The blue paint of the door crackled and chipped away. The breathing of the mother root, its stench, louder and more prominent.

Pete/Abel: "Not directly in it, just gently brushing against it. A whisper, like hearing something from far away."

Guildias probably didn't need a thorough explanation but Abel's babbling was more for his benefit than anyone else's. Anything to distract from the ruined house and smell of rotting flesh and the possibility that they were about to come upon a small little decomposing body.

"Guessing that's the one?" Pete asked, making an effort to breathe through his mouth. "Should we knock or just walk in?"

Guildias: "I'll go." Of those present, to his knowledge and current experience, Peter was most welcome in this umbral reality, but he'd risked enough.

His steps remained careful and deliberate, checking noisy floorboards as though hunting, mindful that the wrong step would dissolve their efforts.

The child's bedroom was as dust laden as the rest of the house. The roof collapsed by an enormous mother root.

Guildias reached behind for Peter. If ever there was a moment in which to keep a close grasp on the man, it was in seeing a boy, barely out of his toddling years, curled against the breathing black root, cradled between giant arm-like appendages. Eyes closed, breathing, suckling on a smaller thumb-like finger from one of the wrapped arms. This was not an appropriate moment for reflex action; perhaps his grasp of Peter was for himself.

Pete/Abel: Pete nodded. "Carefully, okay?" With the floors and everything else in the state they were in, he didn't like their odds of coming out of another altercation with those branches unscathed. Hell, he didn't like their odds of successfully walking across this floor without falling through.

He could see sky through the ceiling of the little boy's room. It had the same stench, the same lack of any sort of life apart from those damn--

"Oh..." he said softly. There he was. The little boy. Seemingly unharmed and sleeping peacefully as anything among the sentient roots.

Pete squeezed Guildias' hand just as Abel squeezed his. Much as he'd hoped this is what they would find, it was still a shock to see the kid safe. And alive.

He took a deep breath. "Thank God. We should..."

Abel nodded. "It should be you that goes and gets him."

Guildias: Abel was right, of course. Peter was the key to this going smoothly, whether he realized his capability or not. He would keep his mouth shut, being so near the entity. He hadn't realized how deep into the room he had stepped until needing Peter to take front and center.

Pete: "Guildias?" Pete barely whispered, squeezing the vampire's hand again. "How are we gonna do this?" Because he seriously doubted the tree was just going to let them take the little boy. For all that it was creepy and sentient and smelled like a rotting corpse, it seemed to be protecting him.

Guildias: "As you would... relieve an exhausted mother." The hold of the child was not hostile. There was no way to determine what was being fed to the boy, if anything. Something had rendered the child unconscious, evident by the gentle rise and fall of his stomach.

Pete: "I usually relieve an exhausted mother by taking her kids and watching them for a few hours so she can shower and sleep. But she doesn't have roots that'll kill us all for attempting to take him."

Guildias: "She's fallen asleep with her baby in her arms. I'm right behind you."

Pete/Abel: Pete took a deep breath. "Abel, any ideas?"

"Approach as non-threateningly as you can," Abel whispered. "Gil's right, the tree is protecting him. Look. It's cradling him, like a parent does. I don't think we're the only beings down here who care about that kid. Maybe that's why the tree tried to attack us downstairs. Here, let me--"

Abel took off his jacket and gave it to Pete to hold so he could take off his shirt. It was cleaner than the jacket and it would do to keep the little boy warm until they could get out of here.

Guildias: Guildias remained between them, kept his eyes on the root, studied its breathing, location of every hung and piled root, its grip on the child. He considered every possible angle, every reaction. They were in the heart of this house. Magic was unpredictable here. All of this on the suggestion of a Ravnos. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

Pete/Abel: Abel handed his shirt to Pete and put his jacket back on. "Remember, Petey, non-threatening. Come from a gentle, caring place, not a 'rescuing a tiny prince from a dragon' kind of place. The tree's kept that little kid safe down here and for that, I think it deserves our respect."

Pete nodded. Abel was right; whatever the circumstances, the tree was caring for that child. He turned to Guildias. "You have any advice?"

Guildias: Guildias forced half of his attention back to the pair, gestured with his free hand to keep their voices low. One of the reasons he was of few words.

"No. Fall back if something happens."

Pete: Another nod. "Okay," he whispered, taking a silent deep breath. Despite his apprehension, it didn't take much effort to approach the tree from a caring, gentle place. All he could see when he looked at that little boy was Graham. He couldn't begin to imagine how he'd feel if it were his nephew down here, lost and scared and away from everyone who loved him.

He had to bring this kid back to his parents.

Pete approached as slowly as he could, intending to crouch down when he was close enough and bundle up the kid.

Guildias: Still and silent he watched, ready to snatch for whatever bit of clothing he could fist. The surface objective was this child, but for the sake of others it was the well-being of the man in front of him. A promise not only to Callum, but the avoidance of Ravnos ire.

The tree exhaled a familiar musky odor. Contempt in its shiver for Peter's nearness. The child was lifted to a standing height, roughly shy of Peter's shoulders, and bundled with thin wispy black roots. The frequency of its rattling hiss turned Guildias' head in mild discomfort. Reminded him of a rattle snake. It was almost language, but the intent was clear.

Pete: Pete didn't let himself get agitated or make any sudden movements; he imagined he was in the serenity garden in the woods and forced himself to stay calm.

"I know you care about him," he said softly. "I know you've kept him safe and warm while he's been down here with you. If his mother knew that, she'd be grateful for it. She'd be grateful you kept her baby safe. She and his father miss him, they love him. He belongs up there with them, on the other side. I'm not here to hurt you, or him. I just want to take him back to his family."

Guildias: Peter's phrasing left him wondering. Was this, in fact, down or parallel to their reality? The association of down with Hell gave him pause. This was extrinsic, but nothing he could associate with the nightmares of Hell itself. Those of this reality must find their own as alien.

The sentient tree exhaled vibrations akin to words. Watching thin dark roots slowly covering the child's face and neck, a curious realization began to dawn on him.

Peter was slowly released; Abel pulled to replace him. He began to circle the enormous girth.

Pete/Abel: Both Pete and Abel looked to Guildias with identical looks of confusion.

"Gil, what are you doing?" Abel whispered, trying to move his lips as little as possible. It didn't seem like a good idea to draw attention to themselves when Pete was trying to reason with the tree. "We're at a delicate point in the process."

Guildias: "Hush." He placed his hand on the wall as a guide. The air between them thick enough to lose sight of all but their outline. He looked behind the tree, then turned towards the door, intent on inspecting the next set of sagging sleeping roots.

Pete: All right, okay, Guildias was doing this. Whatever the hell this was. Abel very much wanted to ask him what he was doing again but decided against it. He could always think it at him, but they probably wouldn’t be well received.

He’d just go with what was happening and keep one eye on Pete and the other on Guildias and keep his supernatural senses on the tree and the kid.

Guildias: There was a connection between what was happening to the child and the unpleasant lingering odor. He would not yet voice suspicions without evidence. He'd keep his hand to the wall, ribbed along a curtain of inky roots shivering from his dead touch. They recoiled, dissatisfied with what little they could learn from him. He watched, touched again, and then breathed life into his body. The shivers and low frequency hisses calmed with his growing warmth.

Guildias continued down the hallway, brushed his fingers along where a window should be, long since broken, dust covered, mostly replaced by the same living root.

The bathroom near the stairs. The same stench. He peered inside and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, irises becoming pale.

He almost missed it. A thin gray hoof peeking from a massive swallowing root. All that remained of an ungulate mammal.

Keeping his movements calm, Guildias turned, replaced his right hand to the wall and began the short journey back.

Pete/Abel: While Guildias did his thing, Pete debated his own next move. He'd said his piece to the tree and the tree hadn't seemed particularly receptive. It didn't seem particularly receptive to Guildias either, so saying more would only risk pissing it off and making it attack one of them or worse, hurt that little boy.

So...all he could do was wait.

He was doing a much better job of that than Abel, who was starting to feel antsy. Should he mentally ask Guildias what was happening? Probably not. He hadn't seemed thrilled with the idea of mental communication earlier.

Guildias: For a moment, Guildias wondered if the rooms had changed. The hallway felt longer than his initial roam. By at least twenty feet. The floor was layered by a thick blanket of roots. They breathed, reaching like long skeletal fingers for his boots, gripping with anemic strength to his clothes.

He reached down to brush away a particularly curious root. A gambler's knife, wrapped tightly in black tape, was pulled from his boot.

"Get away from it," he called, keeping his voice above a whisper.

Abel: Abel didn't need telling twice. He barely needed telling once, already on edge and itching to do something when he heard Guildias' voice. A voice that was absolutely not whispering like it had been before which meant something bad had happened.

He grabbed Pete's arm and yanked him a few giant steps back. "What?! What is it!?"

Guildias: "Follow my voice." He reached out into the mist, his knife-hand to the wall to continue guiding him back to the little bedroom.

Pete/Abel: "Follow--okay." Abel wouldn't question or hesitate, he just grabbed Pete's arm and held it tight. "Okay, okay. Come on, Petey."

Any hesitation was on Pete's part. It didn't feel right leaving the little boy behind, even if it was only for a short while. At least he hoped so. He also hoped to God that Guildias had an actual plan because what they had tried thus far just wasn't going to cut it. The Umbra might have accepted them, the tree might be standing down, but no way in hell was it going to let them leave with the kid just like that. They weren't that lucky.

Still, he'd do as he was asked; holding onto Abel with one hand and reaching out for Guildias with the other. "Keep talking so we can find you."

Guildias: What he grabbed was warmer than root, and fleshy. He assumed Abel for no reason. He pulled. Keeping close to the wall, he pulled his foot, breaking several clingy bits of brittle bark.

"Have you two remained in each other's sights?"

Pete/Abel: It was Pete’s hand, and it squeezed Guildias’ and held tight.

“Yes,” said Pete.

Abel nodded whether Guildias could see him for not. “The whole time, scout’s honor. What have you been doing? Are you okay?”

“What was that noise?” Pete looked around at the walls, the ceiling, the floor.

Guildias: He would answer all questions with a single-minded explanation. "I've regarded it as Mother of this house. If so, it's the kind of mother that eats her children. Loves them to death. What was it doing to the child last you saw?"

Pete/Abel: “Fucking fantastic,” Abel muttered under his breath.

Pete felt his heart leap into his throat. “It was covering him in more roots. Little ones, like it was trying to hide him. I thought it was trying t—we have to go back in there. We have to go, right now!”

Guildias: "I'm thinking we will be its next children if we don't act soon."

Pete: “Great, what do we do? Got a hatchet so we can cut the kid free?”

Guildias: "Can you conjure a hatchet?" Another root was pulled from his shoe. He lowered to give similar treatment to the pair.

Pete/Abel: “Magic works differently here but I can try,” said Abel. “Pete, you got anything hatchet-like?”

“I’ve got a pocketknife.”

Abel turned to Guildias. “Do you need the hatchet for the roots or for something else?” He needed to know how strong the blade needed to be. Altering was easier than conjuring; there was a slightly better chance of being able to magically alter Pete’s knife than conjuring up something else entirely.

Guildias: "It's for you... and what you're going to do to me." Guildias sat up again. "Don't remain stagnant." He began to remove his jacket, handed to Peter to wear or hold.

"If you're going to make attempt, do so now."

Pete/Abel: “Don’t remain—?” Right, the creepy fucking roots trying to mother them to death. Couldn’t stay still and let them.

“What exactly are we going to do?” Pete asked, accepting the jacket while Abel rooted around in his bag for the knife.

Guildias: "You're going to be quick taking the child. It should be occupied by mine and Abel's efforts. When he takes the child, Abel," he paused to make sure he was heard, "you need to be the leader back to the exit. Understood?"

Abel: Abel gave Guildias his full attention right up until he nodded that he understood. He didn't know what the vampire planned to do but he had to trust him; there was no room for hesitation or uncertainty on this side of the Veil.

"Pete, give me your wrist. I put three beacon crystals on you, there are three of us, and I'm not leaving anything to chance." He took the crystal from one of Pete's wrist and put it on Guildias'. The crystal on the chain was taken for himself. "Remember we have our other pendants that are warm when we're together. Tuck those into your shirts so you can feel them." He held up the knife. "Gil, I need you to tell me exactly what this is going to cut so I can make it strong enough."

Guildias: Guildias felt for Abel's gifts and nodded. He told himself this was an irrational leap, but the alternative was failure and it would haunt Peter for too long. If they tried to snatch the child, it could be as mothered as the unfortunate in the bathroom. Their efforts already brought the child closer to his death.

This was arduous no matter the plan. Efficiency was key.

Guildias began rolling the sleeve of his left arm. Two thin scars peeked from his shoulder.

"You're going to remove all of this. It'll be easier as you go along."

Pete/Abel: Pete's eyes widened. "Your arm? You want Abel to cut off your whole arm?!"

Abel blew out a long breath and tried to concentrate on the magic and not on the fact that he was pretty sure Pete was right and Guildias meant for him to lop off his arm. What he planned to do with the arm, Abel had no earthly or godly idea but dammit, this knife was going to do the job. No hesitation, no uncertainty.

He'd just hurl later.

Guildias: "Compose yourself. It'll grow back. We don't have time to be repulsed."

Pete: There was so much wrong with that statement Pete didn't know where to even begin. But Guildias was right, they were up against the clock at the moment.

"Fine, fine. What exactly are we going to do with you down an arm?"

Guildias: "You won't do anything. Your focus is the child, and ignoring everything else. Look away if you need to."

Pete: "Dude, we've gotta stop doing things that scar me for life when we hang out."

Guildias: "I'll always disturb you. We're on opposite sides of the page."

His gaze returned to Abel. "Are you ready?"

Pete/Abel: "You're a lot less disturbing when you've got all your parts attached."

Abel was deep in concentration and thus didn't answer. A hatchet sure as hell would've made the task easier and if he wanted to avoid carving that arm off like a butcher with a turkey, he knew he had to do his best to get this knife as close to one as possible.

He closed his eyes and held the blade in both hands, silently moving his lips as he recited a spell. The blade would lengthen, grow stronger, and fall heavier. Not a hatchet, but as close as he trusted himself to get. He was just grateful it seemed to work in this unpredictable environment.

"At the shoulder or the elbow?" he asked at long last.

Guildias: Guildias had intended shoulder, but he looked one last time to reconsider.

"Shoulder," he affirmed. He needed something he knew would be a worthy distraction. A little smaller than the child, but formidable.

"Ignore what I do next." He had to concentrate on his own spell. One he had to pull from memories from another body. A spell deliverable in every language, more potent in its original form, but tonight, spoken in the tongue of a former devoted student.

He reached for Peter, ignored his hand and squeezed his jacket. When the edge of the blade dug into dead flesh, he began to whisper in hissed, stuttered Hindi.

Pete/Abel: "Copy that," Abel sighed, steeling his nerve. He had to put some distance between himself and what he was about to do or he'd never be able to do it. "Petey, close your eyes and cover your ears, okay?"

This was venison. He was carving into venison, not the flesh of a friend. He'd done it a hundred times with his grandma and with his old mistress. He was just preparing dinner and definitely not separating this man's arm from his body with a magically enhanced blade.

Thankfully, the lack of blood helped that particular delusion.

Pete was way ahead of him. He was being flooded by deja vu, thinking back to the Draegan house and the last time he'd had to shield himself against something awful. The last time Guildias had tried to shield him from something awful.

Guildias: The Setite refused to scream. Forced his prayer to continue, stumbling from Hindi to Coptic and back with a slam of his fist to the living wall. The roots shivered and lashed defensively, retreated by an inch to avoid another bashing.

The drooped frozen fingers began to move, twisting backward and forward in sharp unnatural convulses.

"raakshason kee maata. raakshason kee maata."

His head bowed, loose strands hiding his face as he dry-heaved. Words hissed and spat as dead flesh mangled itself and reshaped, thickening as it gurgled like a monstrous coo of a child.

"Get the child." Blindly, he offered his knife to Peter. "Move."

Pete/Abel: "You're okay, Gil. You're okay, promise."

God, the noises. It was like when he'd gone hunting with Callum's family only a million times worse knowing it was Callum's husband and not an animal.

Pete only dared open his eyes when he was certain the cutting noises had stopped but he still didn't look. There were other noises happening and he really didn't want to know what was making them. He just kept his head turned and his feet moving and told himself there was nothing out of the ordinary.

He was off like a shot when Guildias gave him the word, just barely managing to take the knife from him in his haste to get back into the room and back to the kid. Pete had no fucking idea what was happening but what he did know was that he was going to cut that child free of those creepy fucking branches and take him back to family come hell or high water.

You can't have him. I won't let you. I'm taking him back.

Guildias: Peter was not alone. Guildias stumbled behind, keeping Abel within sight, but it was not the vampire trailing at the Gurahl's heels. The screech of what followed rang through the desolate house and down the Setite's throat. His intent woven into its resolute action. A hideous taupe creature a quarter Peter's height slithered on its thick lepidote tail and two bony hand-like appendages. Fangs curved and so large it could not close its mouth. Its tiny claws dug and splintered the hardwood floor to propel itself. Torso violently undulating with every snatch of the floor. Its breathing came rapid, chittering with sanguineous excitement.

It waited impatiently for Peter to attempt for the child before throwing itself upon the sagging mother root with a scream so shrill Guildias would swear hurt his eyes. It tore at the smaller surrounding roots. Sunk its fangs into fleshy bark and clawed like a rabid animal. The tree reacted quickly. Exhaling a stench so foul the air became thick and acrid. Desperate roots from above and below whipped at the creature, tried to grab its unruly tail. Its new insolent child was enough to occupy its conscious.

Pete/Abel: Ungodly. That was the only way Pete could describe the noises and the screeching and the sensations creeping over his skin as surely as if whatever was behind him were crawling all over him. It didn't matter what horrible magic Guildias had done to help him and he sure as hell wasn't about to look and find out.

Not when it gave that blood-curdling shriek that threatened to scramble his brain or tore at the roots and made the tree release a stench that could be nothing but the smell of rotting, burning Hell itself. Pete just kept his eyes on that little boy, wrapping him in Abel's shirt and tucking him close to protect him from the stench and the screaming and the few remaining roots that clung desperately to any part of him that they could before Abel stepped in to slice them away.

"We're going now! NOW!"

Guildias: Guildias swallowed down the false effort of breathing. He wanted no part of that stench. The guardianship of his monster was relinquished to the tree. Whatever it intended to do was or no consequence, so long as they reached the way out.

Don't stop. Not for the clingy roots or the noises upstairs. Keep moving.

Abel: That's exactly what Abel planned to do. He wanted out of this upside down, creepy ass Alice in Wonderland nightmarish hellscape and the smell of decomposing flesh and god only knew what else.

"GIL, HOLD ON TO PETE WITH YOUR ONLY HAND, PETE HOLD ON TO ME WITH YOUR FREE ONE LET'S GO!"

Down the crumbly stairs and over all the holes and rotting wood and dust to the gate. If a tiny part of him wondered if that fucking tree had the power to close the entrance it was quickly and viciously tramped down. He had even less time to dwell on that than he'd had to dwell on Guildias' missing arm.

Guildias: When this was finished, Guildias intended to have a laugh at Abel's choice of words. Seemed quite appropriate for a familiar. Just a little too obnoxious.

He held to the back of Peter's clothing, glanced back to observe the shriveling roots, reflecting the upstairs turmoil.

Abel: This couldn't be over soon enough. It almost seemed like the house had grown somehow while they'd been upstairs, no doubt having intended to trap them all here until it could absorb them into its maw. Made perfect sense now why this place smelled like decomp.

It wasn't like decomp, it was decomp, from what were probably untold masses of beings from their realm and countless others who'd had the misfortune of getting trapped here with that tree since time immemorial.

But not them.

They had arrived at the exit. Abel climbed through as quickly as he could, shouting for whoever was near to help him pull out Pete and Guildias and the little boy.

MJ/Rosmond: MJ looked back towards the sound, hesitant to move due to the camera. Rosmond was Abel's first responder, grabbing hold of what he could see and pulling with calculated strength. Now was not the time to begin questioning the strange sticky substance covering their bodies from head-to-toe.

Pete/Abel: Having known what to expect the second time around, Pete did his best to shield his face and the kid’s from the Umbra lube, as Abel had proclaimed it. If he couldn’t shield himself completely, then at least he could for the kid, who was safely bundled in Abel’s shirt and half tucked into Pete’s jacket.

The first thing Pete did as soon as they were free—after wiping his face as best he could—was check to make sure the kid was breathing and okay.

Guildias/Rosmond: Guildias' eyes remained closed as he emerged. His missing limb went unnoticed as Rosmond inspected the child, only taking pause when he caught the Setite holding an empty space at his shoulder.

He would ask later.

"We were not here. Leave the child in the grass. Don't touch anything on the way out."

Pete: Pete was only half paying attention to Rosmond.

He needed to see that tiny little chest moving up and down with each breath, needed to feel the reassuring thump of a pulse in that tiny little wrist.

“You’re okay, buddy,” he whispered, using the shirt to clean off any goop that had managed to cover the boy. He wasn’t sure if this was why Abel had asked him to bring an extra sweater, but this was as good a reason as any to finally take it out of his bag.

Spring was right around the corner but it was still chilly at night and in the mornings. Too chilly for a little boy to just be out here in his pajamas. He’d survived the Umbra and a sentient tree; Pete wasn’t about to let the elements get him.

Guildias/Rosmond: Guildias turned to check the wall for residue. Rosmond was right of course; there could be no suspicion. They'd covered most of their tracks; the last mile was the most arduous.

Rosmond studied the child and Peter's worried brow, assessed their quiet acquaintance and turned back.

"A message to Charon and an anonymous phone call will be made. None of us are doctors. You must trust the plan."

A gentler, less chilly approach was required. This much Guildias understood, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Calloway or I can stay and watch from the woods, but the child is not under Rosmond's influence."

Pete: “I’m not leaving him,” Pete said softly, bundling the little boy into the sweater as gently as if he were a newborn. “I’m not going anywhere until this child is back in his mother’s arms. I’ll watch from the woods.”

Guildias: "They will search these woods. I'm at no strength to conceal you."

Abel: "I am," Abel finally piped up. "I can hide us with magic, we don't even have to rely on the cover of the trees."

MJ/Rosmond: "That FBI SUV's gotta go," said MJ.

"I can trust you to keep them safe, Mr. Harrington?" Rosmond stared forwardly.

Abel: "You can bet your life on it, Rosmond. I have all kinds of tricks up my sleeve." And demonic backup just a thought away as well as in his pockets.

MJ/Guildias/Rosmond: Rosmond studied those eyes, finding nothing of fault, he nodded. Turned his expression on Guildias.

"You're coming with me. Mr. Calloway-"

"I got em. I'll text ya."

Another nod. The two began to retrace their steps back to the SUV. Only a glance back from the Setite.

Abel: Abel gave Guildias a smile and a wave. “See you soon, Gil. Sorry about the whole...” He gestured at where the vampire’s arm was supposed to be. “I’ll make it up to you after I get very drunk and repress that memory.”

MJ: "Told y'all not t'come back armless. What the fuck happ - after. After. We gotta put him down somewhere noticeable."

Pete/Abel: "You had to go and put it out there," Abel muttered, digging in his pockets. After would have to wait for both the boy to be found, Abel to get drunk, and several days to pass. He needed time to process what the hell kind of night he was having.

Pete was already carrying the little boy to the front porch. He couldn't bring himself to leave him on the lawn; made more sense that he'd fall asleep on the porch after wandering out of the woods. That's the story he assumed Rosmond and Prince were going to go with, and as far as mysteries went, it was the simplest.

MJ/Rosmond: The point, Rosmond believed, was not to implement the family and have the child taken away on suspicions. Whatever the intention, in truth he did not care. The call would be made by Charon saying a child had been spotted. From there it was out of their hands. This mission had been about the people within, not the child in Peter's arms. His assessment found him impressed with Guildias' willingness of both life and limb. Everyone in some capacity played their role well.

MJ gently tugged on Peter's sleeve, encouraging him from the slumbering little boy. The sweater had to go. Fuck if he could tell if any hair had transferred from Peter. A last minute thought.

"You're probably leavin' trace." He looked to Abel. "Is there anything ya can do?"

Pete/Abel: Pete didn't move. He couldn't. He was frozen to the spot, imagining all the ways this could've gone so much worse than it did, seemingly unable to keep from picturing Mary and Graham in the clutches of that tree.

Abel nodded at MJ. "I'll cut the labels from the sweater so it can't be ID'ed. Feel like slipping in and seeing if they have tape or a lint roller? I'll keep Petey company."

MJ: "Easier t'just take the damn thing. I dunno how long them people are gonna stay asleep."

Abel: Abel subtly nodded toward Pete and gave MJ a look that said that wasn’t going to happen.

“Be fast. Most people keep lint rollers in the laundry room.”

MJ: "I can't magic away a hair of yours in his own. They'll comb it, Peter. Don't hover over him."

Abel: “Wait, I can—ugh, this night.” For a moment he’d forgotten he could teleport. “I’ll go, you stay.”

And he was gone.

MJ: "Well no shit!" The fuck happened, he thought. All three of them with flies and haze in their head. Faraway looks in their eyes. Lack of critical thinking.

"Y'all were only in there five minutes. What was it?"

Pete: Pete finally looked up, brow furrowed slightly, as though deep in thought.

“It was five minutes for you?”

MJ: "Yeah... So how long was it?"

Pete: “I don’t know. Longer.”

MJ: "Kay. Where was it?"

Pete: “Here, but different. Wrong.”

MJ: "God y'all are rubbin' off on me. Where was he?"

Pete/Abel: “In his room with the tree.”

Abel reappeared in almost the exact same spot he’d disappeared from with lint roller in hand.

“Back! Okay okay okay.” He began gently—and quickly—going over the sweater, paying close attention to the areas most likely to have any stray Pete hairs. Chances were that any hairs would come up very bear-like when examined but even so, it paid to be on the safe side.

MJ: "In a room with the tree. Okay. We gotta move him to the front of the house. I'll finish with the cam here. Wait for me 'round the corner. Don't go t'the front yet."

Abel: Abel nodded. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Just let me...” He carefully cut the label off the neck of the sweater. “Okay, done. Come on, Petey, let’s go wait for MJ.”

MJ: The backyard was untouched. No one had been there. The final bit of illusion belonged to the front yard, moving carefully to the next camera for the same treatment. The child was given a once over. Something of his likeness needed to walk from the eastern woods to the porch and lay in the most natural position Peter could place him. Had to be natural, he reminded. Not swaddled.

Pete/Abel: Pulling the sweater over the little boy's head--after Abel had smeared some dirt on it to make it seem like it had been found in the woods--was as natural as Pete could make it. On his side, with the too-long sleeves providing some cushion for his head.

"How's that?"

MJ: It would have to do. "Kay. Let's go." With little consideration, he took hold of Peter's hand and tugged. Free hand still directed towards the last camera, praying to no one that he'd maintained concentration enough.

Pete/Abel: Pete was still reluctant to go but he knew it would do no good to linger. What that kid needed more than anything else in the world was to be back with his family and if all went well, he would be before long.

"Come on, Petey," said Abel. "He'll be okay. Let's head for those bushes there so I can hide us until he's found."

MJ: MJ was last to follow, walking backwards carefully until reaching the woods. Certain that Abel could shield him when the moment was right. Finally dropping his hand, he took an unneeded breath and made the text to Rosmond.

Abel: Of course Abel could shield them; he was Xavier Atlas' familiar. Half his time was spent breaking into some house or private collection or another with his master. Pulling one over on human cops? Just another day.

When they were all settled, he took a talisman from his pocket and began murmuring a chant. He'd done it without the talisman before but it was a good safety net just in case. If anyone were to look in their direction once he was finished, all they would see would be shadows.

"And now we wait."

MJ: Not his first time observing Abel's magic. He made it look so effortless. So real. Far better than his version of concealment, having to memorize surroundings in order to mimic. Superior magic. For now.

Still waiting. And would wait for some time. After Rosmond had made certain to place distance between his vehicle and the house.

"Ya good, Peter?"

Pete: Pete shrugged, only half paying attention to what Abel was doing or how much time had passed. His eyes and his brain were glued to the porch.

“Been worse.”

MJ: "The call's been made. Just a little longer."

Abel: Abel wrapped an arm around Pete’s shoulder and squeezed. “Hear that? Won’t be long now. Then we can get a huge bottle of tequila and process our PTSD.”

MJ: "Y'all make it sound like y'all came outta Hell."

Abel: “We didn’t not not go to Hell, at least that’s what it felt like. I cut off a man’s arm. It’s been a stressful night.”

MJ: "You cut Guildias up?"

Abel: Abel gave a single nod. "He asked me to."

MJ: "Fuckin' why?"

Abel: "To save the kid from a horrifying sentient tree."

MJ: "Just threw his fuckin' arm at it?"

Abel: He shook his head. “Not exactly. It—he did...something and his arm wasn’t...an arm anymore. It was something else and that—something distracted the tree so we could grab the kid and get the hell out of that creepy Alice in Wonderland hellscape.”

MJ: "Huh." Maybe that was why Rosmond spoke the way he did, and why he'd been suggested for the mission. Another reason, he thought.

Abel: “Then there was the Umbra lube and the dust that didn’t behave like dust should behave and the smell of the decomposing flesh of the other unfortunate beings who’d found themselves in the clutches of the tree and been mothered to death by it.”

MJ: "Sounds like a Tool video." He tried to laugh. Came more as a cough.

Abel: “God I wish. That would’ve been easier to deal with. And less scarring.”

MJ: "Since when'd ya ever watch -" Hands clasped down on Peter and Abel's shoulders. Tires. Old, terrible oil. Had to be the oldest damn squad car he'd ever seen. He braced himself between the two men, half-standing and ready to react.

Abel: "In that dive bar in Colorado with that dude with the skunk stripes in his hair."

Abel turned toward the sound of the car and sighed. Finally. "Don't worry, they won't be able to hear us. We'll sound like wind to them."

MJ: "Baby boy's been found. So we should..." MJ considered a moment, dropped his hand from Peter's shoulder. "Mafia gave ya lookin' glass. The loupe. Check it."

Pete/Abel: Pete seemed to stir from a trance that broke the moment MJ moved his hand. His attention was still focused on the boy and the house, and he wasn't ready to move until he saw the parents come out and hug their child.

"Looking glass? Oh, right." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the loupe.

"Want to check the portal?" Abel asked.

MJ: "Yeah. Or this'll just start again."

Pete: Pete held up the loupe and turned in the direction from which they'd come, holding there for a moment before scanning the rest of the house.

"I don't see anything. Does that mean it closed?"

MJ: "Guess so. Rosmond would know more. S'why I went t'them. We make our money differently."

Pete: Some of the tension drained from Pete's shoulders. He still wasn't thrilled about how much information the prince had, but knowing that damn portal had closed made him feel a lot better about this whole situation.

"You made the right call. On Rosmond and on going in to save the kid. Thank you."

MJ: "Ya hate him, right? Rosmond. Gertrude. Ya hate em on my behalf or some shit." He watched the cop as he continued to bang on the front door. Lights upstairs switching on. Sirens in the distance.

Pete: Pete shook his head. “I don’t hate them. I dislike what they represent and I resent it, but I don’t hate them. Hating takes energy I’d rather spend on something else.”

Some more tension eased as the house started waking up. Soon, very soon.

MJ: "I know a little thing 'bout artful wordin'." His eyes fell to the bracken. "Part of the job. I don't hate any of em, either."

Abel was given a pat. "Let's start backin' out."

Pete/Abel: “I know it sounds like bull,” Pete sighed. “But it’s the truth. I have no beef with the mafia lieutenant or with the don.”

Abel shook his head. “Not yet. We haven’t gotten our emotional resolution yet.”

MJ: "Then read a book! Probably gonna put em on an ambulance, first."

Abel: "They better," said Abel. "No telling what he went through before we got there." He caught MJ's eye and gave him a look. 'Petey needs this,' he thought to him. 'All this struck close to home.'

MJ: 'Why though?' He didn't mean to seem callous, but their priorities were going in separate directions. His job had been the outside of the house, their mission finished in five minutes from his perspective. His urgency was in leaving, and the safety of the crouching men.

Abel: 'He's got a nephew and a little baby niece. Their photos are all over his house, they've got their own room for when they stay over. I saw his face in there. He was looking at the little boy but he was seeing his family.'

MJ: 'Too long.' A thought for himself, projected accidentally. Peter's reaction solidified his reason for being so adamant about renewing their relationship. A few years and circumstances had changed them into different men. The fumbling angry boys at a carnival were ghosts.

MJ took a step back, slowly retreating in their initial direction.

Abel: 'What's too long? Hey, don't move! This spell's got a range and it's not that big!'

MJ: MJ took to crouching a ways away, where Abel began his mental shout. Still watchful, ready to protect, but from here he felt more perceptive.

Pete: Pete was completely unaware of the silent conversation happening around him. He was too busy watching the house and the lights from the police cars, listening for the approach of an ambulance.

Despite the presence of help, he still didn't feel completely at ease. That wouldn't happen until that little boy's mother finally came out of the house. Pete watched the confusion and delight and relief play over her face as she was briefed by the officers and finally, finally got to hold her baby again. He heard her grateful prayers and thanks through her sobs and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"We can go now," he said.

MJ: Peter was ready, at last. His willingness to engage loosened a knot in MJ's shoulder. He wanted to reach for him again. Take his hand and pull him under his arm and back them way they came. They would do all of that, but not hand-in-hand. He wanted to, but the gesture in the moment felt empty.

"Come on, then."

Abel: "And that has made this all worth it," Abel said cheerfully, getting to his feet and helping Pete do the same. "Okay, everyone grab a hand. We going back to Pete's?"

MJ: "Sure." What he really wanted was a large rock in the middle of a lake to lay on. Smoke a cigarette and listen to stories of the world he'd been denied. He wanted to watch Guildias grow his arm back. Listen to Peter's voice and fall asleep with Abel's head in his lap.

Pete/Abel: “Actually...” Pete looked between them. “Can we go to the river? I want a swim.”

Abel nodded. “Sure. You and MJ can swim and I’ll get us some supplies and we can get really drunk.”

MJ: "Y'all get really drunk." He shouldn't have been surprised by Peter's request, but its lost familiarity took him from his guard. "Let's do it. Behind Callum's place is safe."

Abel: “We’ll get drunk for us and for Gil and for you.” Abel took their hands and gave them each a squeeze.

“Brace yourselves.”

He gave them a moment and in an instant, the burgeoning crime scene was replaced by Callum’s dock and the tranquility of the river.

MJ: Not a moment after his feet landed upon soft grass did he begin to strip of his heavy jacket and boots. Hopping on one foot to remove socks and waddle towards the dock while arguing with his old belt. A trail of evidence left behind without once looking back towards the house.

Pete/Abel: Pete followed soon after, but not without taking a moment for the world (and his stomach) to settle. Impossible to get used to that feeling.

“You okay, Petey?”

Pete nodded. “Yep, I’m good. I’m gonna...” He gestured toward the river.

“Yes, swim. I’ll be back.”

And Abel disappeared again.

MJ: MJ remained crouched at the very edge of the dock. Arms against his knees as he watched the water. Waited for Peter to join him, looking over his shoulder to smile.

Pete: Finally being able to take off clothes covered in Umbra slime was the best Pete had felt all night. There was no way in hell a wash was going to save these. They needed burning.

He sighed in relief as he went to join MJ. “What?” he chuckled.

MJ: "Ya ever seen that film, uh, Poltergeist?"

Pete: “Yep, and I’ve hated clowns ever since.”

MJ: "That's you right now, with the shit all over ya."

Pete: “Goddamn Umbra lube. Felt like I was being waterboarded when we first went in. Ready to get it off.”

Without ceremony, he leapt into the water.

MJ: MJ watched a moment, as though waiting for something to happen. Some unforeseen reaction. Only when Peter emerged did he drop with dead weight into the water.

Pete: Pete’s entire body seemed to sigh in relief. The river felt just as good as any shower, maybe even better. Cold be damned.

“Fucking—it’s in my chest hair!”

MJ: "It sure is." He reached for his chest and flinched back - tried to play his retreat back by combing his own hair.

Pete: “Ugh...” He scrubbed at his skin, trying to get it off and trying not to notice that MJ had wanted to touch him.

“My skin and the water around me aren’t reacting, right?”

MJ: "Can't tell, honestly. Ain't got that sweet ass night vision like ya."

Pete: He scrubbed some more. “Well, no itching, burning, or glowing so far. I’ll take that as a good sign.”

MJ: "Guildias'll probably keep some, or Rosmond'll make him keep some. For science n'shit."

Pete: Pete squeezed some slime out of his facial hair and examined it closely. "I wonder what actual science would come up with if this stuff was tested. I'm guessing the kind of science they would do is actually magic."

MJ: "The kinda shit Giovanni do is like Frankenstein's madhouse. Science n'magic sorta become the same shit."

Pete: "I've been to Frankenstein's madhouse, it sucks."

MJ: "Talkin' 'bout Umbra?"

Pete: He nodded. "Yeah. Worse place I've ever been and I was in a microscopic part of it."

MJ: "I can't say from experience it's better or worse. It reflects. That's all I got."

Pete: "Sure does, like a funhouse mirror from hell." Some more scrubbing at his skin and hair and back below the surface he went.

MJ: "Ya know-" He'd wait for his return. "If ya feel that gross just go take a shower. His place is right there."

Pete: Pete shook the water from his head. “I’ll get around to it. I wanted a swim first. You know my thing with the river, always helps clear my head.”

MJ: "Yeah. Got a love-hate relationship with em."

Pete: “You currently on the love side or the hate side?”

MJ: "Got love for it right now."

Pete: “Glad to hear it.” Pete shifted to float on his back and heaved a long, content sigh.

“....So this whole time Guildias has been able grow limbs back like a lizard?”

MJ: Peter was watched for a moment before joining, staring at the sky. "We call can."

Pete: “Wait, seriously?! Is it magic or?”

MJ: "I mean, it's the blood. Takes a bunch, but he'll be his old cobra-self in no time."

Pete: “It’s crazy isn’t it? All blood does for the living is get oxygen everywhere so tissue and organs stay alive. Give some to a vampire and limbs grow back.”

MJ: "The moon's a rock in outer space n'ya become a fuckin' bear."

Pete/Abel: He snorted. "Touche. Never thought life would be so goddamn weird."

The rustle of plastic bags and clinking of bottles signaled Abel's return. "I'm back! I've got tequila and snacks and a snack for MJ!"

MJ: MJ looked towards the sound and smiled again.

"Your wrist? Fuckin' delicious."

Abel: "Nope, not mine, although good to know I have the appeal to you that a cheeseburger does to me. How would you feel about a taste of our own lovely Isabel, who was all moony-eyed over you going into the netherworld on a rescue mission? Don't worry, I didn't tell her you didn't actually go in."

MJ: "Mm, moon-y blood. Probably tastes better. I mean way better. It's Isabel."

A wink to Peter. Harmless teasing, he swears.

"Hey, I kept y'all from gettin' caught. The mafia and I are essential workers!"

Pete/Abel: Pete gave a good-natured chuckle. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that Isabel is cute?”

Abel nodded. “Oh yeah, super cute with an adorable accent. She’s from Mexico.” He grinned over at MJ as he started unpacking the bags. “Damn right, Aquaman. You earned this moony blood and Petey earned his tequila. Come and get it.”

MJ: MJ climbed back onto the docks, allowing his feet to dangle.

"Ya know the whole 'if ya don't use it ya lose it'? She keeps me honest with my Spanish." He didn't have his mother and sister to speak to anymore. Not like that. The quick texts he could manage in good conscience with Kenna were in English. No phone call in years now.

"So what ya do with all the uh... goo?" he pointed over Abel's body.

Pete/Abel: After allowing himself one more dunk, Pete followed suit. It wasn't a shower and it was cold as fuck but the water felt great.

"We all need someone like that," he said as he hoisted himself up. "My mentor and his family still help me with my French." He accepted the bottle of tequila from Abel with a grateful nod.

Abel looked down at his chest. Most of the slime was gone but some still remained. "Isabel sprayed me off with the hose in the garden after Xavier took a sample."

MJ: "Of course he did." MJ smiled privately to Peter. "Sprayed ya down with a fuckin' hose. I love our life."

MJ glanced back to the house one last time, expecting a light; expecting to see Rosmond's SUV round the corner. Too soon. Abel had taken advantage of fewer numbers and now they'd have some explaining to do to Callum should he spot them first.

He kept those thoughts to himself and enjoyed a bit of Isabel.

Pete/Abel: Pete chuckled to himself. 'Took a sample' sounded like Rosmond and Gertrude weren't going to be the only ones doing some magic-science.

"Hey, it did the job. Petey, I got us some goldfish and hot fries and nachos. And stuff to turn the tequila into margaritas!"

A laugh this time. "You brought margarita supplies?"

"Hells yeah! Want one?"

"Hit me."

MJ: "Fuck, how much did ya fuckin' buy?" It all smelled... interesting. Food but not food. Familiar but unwholesome. A scent of memories and nothing more.

Abel: "A good bit. We've earned it." The only thing he hadn't bought was ice but that was no problem for someone with magic; as long as he had the essentials, they were golden. "Some lime juice, some salt, some tequila, and a dash of magic combined in the finest cocktail shaker the liquor store could offer. We shake it up." He shook it. "And we've got some much-earned catharsis. Hand me a solo cup."

MJ: MJ handed the cup over, watching the river as he supped. He could smell everything described and then some. Still smell the moisture of Umbra over Abel's skin and hair; could smell Xavier's cologne. Something about it was peaceful.

"Xavier ask 101 questions?"

Abel: Abel poured Pete’s margarita and handed it over. “Only a few,” he said, pouring his own. “Told him we would answer the rest tomorrow after I got really drunk. He’s probably coming up with more now that he has the lube.”

MJ: "We didn't not tell him what we were doin'," he felt the need to remind.

Abel: “We gave him a general idea. He’s a detail kinda guy, an exhaustive detail kinda guy. We basically went to Disneyland and didn’t take him, he’s curious.”

MJ: "Wonder where the fuck that comes from." A quick look back to his clothes before remembering he was fresh out of cigarettes. He missed pot. Alcohol was also acceptable, but he had no intention to bite either of them if offered. Teasing was one thing.

"He'd probably want a piece of your hair, too."

Pete/Abel: “This is the same man who breaks into places for fun. He likes to get into locked places and learn their secrets.”

Pete downed half his margarita and hummed thoughtfully. “So he’s a cat.”

MJ: "Ya know, if he were any animal... I imagine, like... a German shepherd, or Doberman. Somethin' overly groomed n'got that stance at dog shows."

Pete/Abel: “A show dog with the curiosity of a cat.”

“I’d say Doberman for sure,” Abel said, nodding sagely. “They always look intimidating.”

MJ: "He doesn't scare me." Maybe he should have. The night of merge, it was not MJ's body curled in a corner, shivering and mumbling, awaiting for capture. It was a handful of salt and a determination to flee no matter the cost. A chapter in his life more surreal than memory could recount.

Abel: “Well of course he doesn’t. He loves you. Scary people don’t look scary to their families and friends.”

MJ: "Isn't that what God's supposed t'be?"

Abel: “Which one?” Abel asked around a handful of goldfish.

MJ: "Respect is fear or some shit."

Pete: Pete shook his head. “They’re not. Fearing someone and respecting them are two different things but there are always people who think they’re one and the same.”

MJ: "Depends on the person. Not the one lookin', but the one they're lookin' at." He thoughtfully stared at the half-empty blood bag.

Abel: Abel shook his head. “This is too deep a conversation after the night we’ve had. We need more booze.”

MJ: "Right. So how 'bout them Knicks?"

Pete/Abel: “Which sport do they play?”

Pete chuckled. “Basketball.”

“Ah, the tall sport!”

MJ: "Yeah. The that," he laughed.

Pete/Abel: “Either of you ever play?”

“Nope.” Pete shook his head. “I play soccer.”

MJ: "Baseball."

Abel: “Look at you two, so athletic.” Abel mixed another round of margaritas, refilled their cups. “That must be why Xavier gets you that primo Olympian blood.”

MJ: "Never gonna be an athlete." It was a nice gesture, though. "Just get t'keep the body of it."

Abel: “And you don’t have to be sweaty and sore! That’s gotta be a nice bonus. Speaking of, are you still hungry? I’ve got more Isabel.”

MJ: "She a fuckin' mummy now? How much did ya take?"

Abel: “Nah, she’s fine. Did you see that the bag is smaller than normal? She gave a couple small ones, not two normal size ones.”

MJ: "All this for the kid?"

Abel: “All the nice girls like an Indiana Jones type.”

MJ: "Just wait 'til she hears 'bout Peter."

Pete/Abel: “I’m an Indiana Jones type now?”

Abel clapped him on the back. “Of course you are! Sure you can’t ever tell anyone and have them buy you drinks because of it but it still counts.”

MJ: "I'll buy ya a drink," he grinned.

Pete: Pete grinned right back. “Imma hold you to that. Getting covered in Umbra slime’s gotta be worth something.”

MJ: "Your real prize is a job well done," he laughed.

Pete/Abel: "You're absolutely right. Slime's a small price to pay for getting that kid back safely. With any luck he's not horribly scarred for life."

Abel shook his head. "Don't worry, Petey. Chances are if he does remember and does tell someone, they won't believe him. They'll chalk it up to a nightmare or to trauma, like humans always do, and if he hears it enough he'll start to believe it."

MJ: "That's how it goes," sighed MJ. "For their own good." For the most part, he believed that. More than he had initially. He didn't care to dwell on the why.

Pete: "In this case, I'd say that's the best case scenario," Pete sighed. "What we managed to see was horrible. Imagine what he saw before we got there."

MJ: "Well I can't. Y'all won't tell me."

Pete: "Did you miss the part where Abel told you about the sentient tree and having to cut off Guildias' arm?"

MJ: "I want the juicy details, goddammit."

Abel: "They're such gross details," said Abel, making a face. "I used to hunt with my dad, I can prep an elk or a bird but a person? That was fucked up."

MJ: "It's Guildias though. Bet he didn't even whimper."

Abel: "I don't fucking know how he managed to stay quiet. I know he wanted to scream. Man's got an iron will."

MJ: "Could the tree, ya know, hear y'all?"

Pete: Pete nodded. "Yeah. It could talk too, in some weird tree language that barely sounded like a language."

MJ: "Did y'all fight a fuckin' Ent?"

Abel: Abel shook his head. “It didn’t move around or have a face. It was rooted to one spot like a normal tree and the creepy roots extended everywhere.”

MJ: "Mmkay. Scratch one off of Ent." Another sip of sweet-metallic vitae, staring out across the river.

"I think we've earned a four-day weekend."

Pete/Abel: Pete polished off his second margarita. “I also wouldn’t call it much of a fight. Guildias distracted it and I just moved fast.”

“We have,” said Abel. “We’re starting on it right now.”

MJ: "Could it have gone without Guildias loppin' an arm off?"

Pete: They both shook their heads but it was Pete who said, “I don’t see how. We didn’t have any bargaining chips.”

MJ: "That bad, huh? Shit..."

Abel: Abel shrugged. “Maybe we would’ve had a chance under different circumstances but the tree was getting ready to kill the kid. We didn’t have time to think up an alternative, and we weren’t armed for a sentient tree.”

MJ: "I'll keep that in mind for the next Umbral mission." He watched the two of them a moment, suddenly taken by gratitude to find them in one piece.

Abel: "I am not getting covered in lube again unless it's for a damn good reason," said Abel, mixing yet another round of margaritas. "We need to find a rescue mission in like...Hawaii."

MJ: "I ain't ever been," MJ said. "Ain't crossed my mind."

Abel: "We should go! Petey and I will drink rum out a coconut and you can drink blood out of a coconut and we'll all sit on the beach for days on end doing nothing."

MJ: "Y'all do days, I'll do nights. But coconuts yes. N'Peter can get lost in the mountains on the full moon."

Pete: Pete snorted. "Or we could go when it's not a full moon. All that fur in that heat? I'd spend the full moon hiding in the ocean."

MJ: MJ looked to Abel. "Know any were-peeps Peter can hang out with on the full moon?"

Abel: "In Hawaii? No. But I can hang out with Pete on the full moon."

MJ: "You're hardly a were-anything."

Abel: “Neither is Callum and he hangs out with Pete on the full moon. It’s about companionship.”

MJ: "How d'ya know so much?"

Pete: “I told him,” Pete chimed in, devouring a handful of Goldfish. “We had time to talk before ya’ll came to pick us up.”

MJ: "A shit ton." Apparently.

Abel: “We talk fast,” Abel said cheerfully. “We needed to bond. Plus ya’ll took forever.”

MJ: "I like that." He wasn't surprised; this was Abel, after all. The man befriended a snake just because he could.

"I don't think I've ever heard ya talk fast," he smiled at Peter.

Pete/Abel: Pete chuckled. “I usually don’t. Didn’t think I could. I blame Abel, I was just trying to keep up.”

“Very few can.” Abel poured them another round and toasted Pete with his. “Here’s to you, Petey. L’chaim.”

MJ: "Ya've joined the club. Welcome. We don't have tee shirts or hats; we got loyalty and free arguments."

Pete/Abel: “I’ll take both.” He clicked solo cups with Abel and downed the contents. The world was beginning to take on a very pleasant haze. His head had started to feel lighter, more floaty. The perfect place to be after the night they’d had.

“What if we got T-shirts? Everyone lives a T-shirt.”

Abel nodded. “They do.”

MJ: "Shirts just for us, or the whole crew?" He couldn't imagine Rosmond wearing one, nor Guildias for that matter.

Pete: “For everyone!” Pete said cheerfully. “I’d pay good money to see Guildias in a T-shirt.”

MJ: "Ya'd know more than me at this point. I ain't seen it."

Pete: “I bet Cal’s seen him in a T-shirt since they’re married.”

MJ: "I don't think 'bout that shit." Not for some years now. Didn't seem fair to even consider.

Pete/Abel: Pete giggled to himself imagining Guildias in something as casual as a T-shirt. It seemed way too normal a thing for Mr. GQ.

“Oooh! I know what we should put on the shirts!” Abel announced. “How about, ‘I went to the Umbra and all I got was lube and this lousy T-shirt’?”

MJ: "Ha. Hell yeah. Xavier'll have t'wait for the next mission, then. He ain't gettin' shit this time."

Abel: Abel snorted. “There’s a man who would never wear a T-shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in any shirt without buttons and a collar.”

MJ: "I think s'time we steal his clothes."

Pete/Abel: He gave a dramatic gasp. “That’s so sneaky! He’d be so pissed,” Abel laughed. “We should steal everything and only leave him the T-shirt, some jeans, and tennis shoes so he has no choice but to wear it.”

Pete snorted. “Or he’ll just be naked until ya’ll give them back.”

MJ: "Wouldn't put it past him t'just walk 'round naked. He'd make some artistic excuse for it. Pretend the clothes aren't missin'."

Abel: “Or, or!” Abel laughed again. “He’d make us go suit shopping with him as punishment and stick you in another tie.”

MJ: "He'd still have t'walk 'round in a tee shirt. Worth the punishment."

Pete/Abel: “Say the word and we’ll raid his closet.”

Pete turned his attention toward the hot fries. “What if ya’ll just ask him to wear it? Pretty please with extra sugar on top?”

Abel waved the notion away. “That’s not nearly as chaotic and potentially hilarious.”

MJ: "Nah. Fuck that," MJ laughed, overlapping Abel's retort. "Gotta make your own fun, man!"

Abel: “Exactly! And trust me, this is going to be a lot of fun. Oh, we can’t forget his robes,” Abel added to MJ. “He’s got a bunch and if he doesn’t have his clothes he’ll try to just wear those. Should we also steal his underwear and make him wear American flag boxers?”

MJ: "Oh fuck, you're right. I'll get the boxers. Walmart's on the city limits."

Peter was given a grin. "Want a way-too expensive robe?"

Pete/Abel: Pete snorted and just decided to roll with it. He'd blame the tequila, which he was just drinking in shots now. "Why the hell not. Take his socks, too. Walmart's got novelty socks."

Abel's face lit up. "Yes!"

MJ: "Ain't there a shop here that got em? Ones that say, 'fuck this shit'?"

Pete: Pete nodded. “Yep, that gift shop on the way out of town.”

MJ: "Let's go tomorrow. Oh! Ya know, Guildias'll be next."

Pete: “You’re gonna steal poor armless Guildias’ clothes?” Pete chuckled.

MJ: "Maybe talk Callum into it - when he's, ya know, whole."

Pete: “We might be able to get him to get Guildias to wear a T-shirt. Stealing his clothes not so much.”

MJ: "Maybe m'just in a stealin' mood."

Abel: Abel shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. “You can help Devlin steal cookies from the kitchen when Christine isn’t looking. Or break into a fancy museum with Xavier.”

MJ: "Both. I'll do both. Maybe the underwear at Walmart, too."

Pete: Pete squinted. "I feel like I should be discouraging this, but Walmart's a giant corporation, so..." He shrugged and downed more tequila.

MJ: "Now you're gettin' it," MJ chuckled into his bag of blood.

Pete: "I'll scold you tomorrow if I remember. Gotta keep up them good and righteous publican appearances."

MJ: "Good n'righteous I guess is your MO now. Maybe it always was, but ya ain't punchin' people anymore."

Pete: "Got lectured by the law. Then the law's boss. I still punch people though. Aren't enough lectures in all the world to keep assholes from being assholes."

MJ: "Was wonderin' when ya were gonna get canned."

Pete: “Last time I got close was when I got the lecture. Around here it’s considered a miracle that I don’t have a lengthy rap sheet and a couple lawsuits under my belt.”

MJ: "S'part of your charm! I fell for it," he winked.

Pete: Pete laughed. "Next time there's an asshole in the pub, I'll call you before I punch their lights out."

MJ: "Hell yeah. So sexy." A glance was given to Abel, his smile fading a bit at the link between Abel and a certain witch in California. His mind wasn't made up one way or another, but little reminders tickled an annoying sense of guilt behind his neck.

"Y'all ready t'go home?"

Pete/Abel: Abel was just gonna keep eating his chips and let them flirt. Any opinions he had in any particular direction about any particular situation would be kept to himself.

Pete nodded after taking another drink. "Yeah, we probably should. Still gotta shower, and work tomorrow. Or...later today. Is it today?"

Abel nodded. "Yep, it's today."

MJ: "Let's get ya home, then. Ya damn near drank a whole bottle. I mean ya earned it, but s'way past your bedtime, old man."

Pete: Pete’s dramatically offended gasp lost some of its effectiveness when he just barely avoided falling into the river as he staggered to his feet.

“I am a great and mighty bear! Bedtimes are the stuff of mere mortals!”

MJ: "Mighty bear gonna go down river if he keeps stumblin'." MJ got to his feet and began gathering Peter's things. Offered his hand to keep the bear upright.

Pete/Abel: Pete laughed again, taking MJ’s hand. “Thanks very much. Been a loooong time since I had that much tequila. Come on, Abel!”

“Yep, I’m here, I’m up.” He took the hand that Pete offered and smiled at all of them. “Look at us, a drunken daisy chain and a sober vampire. Onward to Petey’s! Petey, be a champ and try not to hurl, okay?”

“Copy that.”

MJ: MJ watched. Didn't think to look back if they'd gathered every bit of trash. Callum could yell at them later. Probably would, given Guildias' condition. Right now, Peter was the only priority.

"Want us t'stay?"

Pete/Abel: “Yeah, stay! I have blackout shades and stuff to make French toast for breakfast.”

“Sold!” Abel said cheerfully. “Okay, everyone gird your loins.”

He did some girding of his own, making sure he was steady before transporting them to Pete’s.

#Into the Umbra chapter #petegraham #abelharrington #mjcalloway #anedendarkly #jamesrosmond

[nikibogwater]

Halloween is coming to a close, but I don’t have any candy. So instead, I shall Treat myself to one (1) unsolicited personal gush-post. 

Buckle up.

Niki Rambles: The Magical Siblings and Me (Or: Why My Blog/Ao3 Suddenly Became a Tales of Arcadia/Douxie Stanning Disaster)

So I’m knee deep in my latest Tales of Arcadia fic (it’s a doozy, as a couple of you might have figured out lol) and very much kind of wanted to talk a bit about the Immortal Bonds series as a whole. Tales of Arcadia is a series that’s been dear to my heart since mid-2017 when I saw the first season of Trollhunters, but it wasn’t until Wizards dropped this past August that I began to take an active interest in the fandom, especially in regards to fanfiction. I think I just always felt like ToA had a very neat, thorough story that explored every aspect of the characters/relationships that I personally wanted to see. But Wizards being crunched down to only 10 episodes by the filthy artistic oppressors at Netflix was (much as I hate to say it) one of the best things to happen to me as a fandom creator, because it meant that suddenly I had a story with characters that I absolutely loved that was just brimming with unexplored potential--it was a fic-author’s empty playground, and add in the fact that Douxie has easily settled quite comfortably at the very top of my Favorite Fictional Characters Ever list, and I was more than ready to play. 

But it got even better for yours truly, thanks to this precious bean:

If I have any sort of presence in the ToA fandom, it is as the Mother of the Magical Siblings. While I definitely write plenty of interaction between all three of them (Douxie, Nari, and Archie), it’s the relationship between the Punk Wizard and this Bean Goddess that really ignited the passion that would one day result in a 5-part (soon to be 6 and still counting!) series centered entirely around the family dynamic these three share. It’s one of the biggest and longest-running projects I’ve ever worked on, and also the one that has seen the most improvement to my writing skills. 

The reason Douxie’s relationship with Nari is so absurdly appealing/important to me is because I am a younger sibling--the youngest of five, actually, and I have been blessed with an absolutely STELLAR family, especially my older brothers, who have embodied every ideal associated with their position. I said a while back that Douxie shares traits with all three of my older brothers, and I think that’s why I latched onto his relationship with Nari so strongly. Of all the interactions he has with other characters, it’s his very brief exchanges with Nari that most closely resemble the relationship I had with my brothers when I was also a small bean who needed protecting from this big scary world. (Now I am what’s scary in this world. 😈 Jk, I’m actually a very nice person). Also insane amount of Kudos to the writers/animators working on the show for somehow managing to communicate such a specific feeling in like, 25 seconds?! You guys are insanely talented.

Obviously there’s a lot of differences, and Nari is a vastly different personality than my own, but the core of the interactions, the feelings they sparked within me, is very familiar and close to my heart. So you can imagine my absolute DELIGHT when the series ended with these two quite literally riding off into the sunrise together, embarking on a joint venture that we as the audience are not allowed to see (at least, not yet), the two giving each other a soft, affectionate glance before the camera cuts away. (I have no idea what face Archie is making here lol).

(I could also write an entire essay on the significance of the expression on Douxie’s face right now--homeboy doesn’t look that soft for just ANYONE, but I do need to sleep at some point, so that’s not happening tonight). 

So there’s the first reason I became borderline obsessed with these two. What few interactions they had struck me as being very sibling-esque, in such a way that hearkened back to my own experiences and made me feel wonderfully nostalgic. The second reason is perhaps a bit less soft and sweet. 

I really want to push back against a particular idea that has become rooted in media, and especially in fandom: the idea that intense emotional intimacy is exclusive to romantic relationships. Modern society is almost feral with its obsession over romance (more specifically sex, but this is a PG blog and I don’t want to even go there), and while I will be the first in line to tell you that a good old-fashioned romantic love story (when done well and appropriately) is a joy to read/watch, I will never stop screaming into the void that platonic/familial relationships are just as important, just as dramatic, just as wonderful as romantic ones (albeit in a very different way). Douxie and Nari have given me an opportunity to write for a relationship dynamic that I know inside and out, for characters who I absolutely adore. And they’ve given me an outlet to celebrate something that I think is too-often forgotten in our modern world: the importance and intensity of familial/platonic love. The warm feeling that nestles in my chest when my mom asks me if I’d like a cup of tea while I’m writing, when my dad squeezes my shoulder, when my brother sends me into hysteric fits of laughter with the stupidest joke possible, when my best friend randomly texts me “Vibe check! How are you?” in the middle of the day without warning--that’s what I want to celebrate with The Immortal Bonds. And it’s you guys, my beautiful, beautiful followers/readers, who have made this venture so much more than just me hurling my opinions into the nether. You’ve all been so incredibly supportive, with your comments, your Kudos, even just your silent stalking of my Tumblr page, quietly leaving likes on all of my Magical Siblings content. You guys have been celebrating these things WITH me, and I can say with great certainty that my experience in this fandom has been the absolute best that I have ever had. 

Nobody asked for this post, and I can only think of one or two people who would actually care to read the whole thing, but it’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while. Just to put these words somewhere safe, where they can sit on display for those few who are interested. Also, huge thank you to the entire Tales of Arcadia team (who will probably never see this) for telling such a fantastic story and crafting such beloved characters that sparked the imaginations of so many of us. You guys make content that makes this cold dark world feel a little warmer and brighter. ✨

#niki rambles #tales of arcadia #toa #wizards: tales of arcadia #wizards: toa #douxie #nari #the magical siblings #i just needed to scream about this show for a bit #also douxie #as if I don't scream about him enough already #writing #fanfiction

[hargrove-mayfields]

Headcanons Part Two!!!

My last headcanon post was all about Billy and Steve, but they won’t be the only ones showing up in my stories, so here’s some hcs for a few of the most recurring characters!

Starting with Max!!

My preferred middle name for Max is Nicole, because Maxine Nicole sounds pretty, but can double as being intimidating if someone was yelling at her. Also, she’s named after her aunt Nicole just because I can see Susan being like that.

Most important thing to know about Max in my writing is that she is ALWAYS autistic. I might not specify depending on the content of the story, but she is never ever ever meant to be allistic. I imagine her as being on a moderate support needs level, meaning for those who don’t know the term that she has highs and lows! There’s days where she can pass as allsitic and days where she can’t, and she maybe doesn’t need a lot of assistance in everyday life, but she still needs lots of stimming and has meltdowns and stuff!

Related to this fact is that in the 80s, autism was not a very common diagnosis at all, and so I don’t think she’d really have a word for it other than like, that just being the way she is. Because no one will give her the official diagnosis, Neil thinks she’s faking, so she gets told to stop stimming, isn’t treated fairly during a meltdown, told to “act normal” etc, etc, and she needs a lot of therapy in the future for it.

Her favorite ways to stim are rocking on her heels, humming, listening to loud noises (like sirens/car engines/lawn mowers, NOT things like music/Susan doing the dishes, those do the opposite) and dancing!

Her least favorite sensory things are raindrops touching her skin, her hair brushing her shoulders or her face, overwhelming smells (cologne, candles, food on the stove) and furniture that’s too firm! (like a memory foam mattress or a leather couch)

The first time she feels truly seen in the way she is is when Fraggle Rock starts airing in ‘82. Susan tells her to watch it because she thinks Max is still a baby no matter how old she is, but the minute she lays eyes on Wembley Fraggle she knows he’s like her. He stims vocally and with his hands, his friends don’t understand him, he’s empathetic, bad at choosing, gullible, and in every way just so much like her! Her and Billy have an inside joke where, if she’s putting something off or can’t make a decision, he’ll tell her to stop her Wemblin’ and sometimes he calls her Wembles without thinking!

There isn’t a lot of personalized furniture in the Hargrove-Mayfield, so I think it’s safe to say that she doesn’t really have any comfort items lying around. No favorite blankets or stuffed animals or toys of any kind, and I think because of that she clings to people. That’s why she is so insistent on getting in with the party, and why was so excited about having a brother in Runaway Max, because she relies on comfort people instead of objects.

She’s not very good at putting a name to her relationships. Like, she doesn’t really know how to describe how she feels about somebody, she just knows if she likes them or not. If she feels happy and sage with someone, that’s all that matters, she doesn’t feel the need to classify them beyond that. But she’s also aware that others don’t feel that way! And she feels pretty special when Lucas calls her his girlfriend!

In the future, there can be a lot of different outcomes for her.

If Billy stays dead, I can see Max ending up two ways, either staying in Hawkins because that’s where her brother is dead and buried and trying to move on in her own way, or leaving Hawkins entirely, just cutting ties completely with everyone and everything there to move away from the trauma that’s there, except for every year on B’s birthday when she comes back to visit.

If Billy lives though, I think there’s again two outcomes for her. One where she feels guilty about not noticing the mindflayer and her and Billy’s relationship gets a little strained, because they don’t cope well when they’re trying to pin the blame, or one where she is just grateful her brother isn’t dead and decides to live life to the fullest after that.

In any scenario, she would obviously get the happy ending she deserves, she just has to get there a totally different way.

And also, regardless of what path she takes, I think she’d make for an excellent writer in her future career. She’s smart, she’s got lots of story to tell and draw inspiration from, and it just seems right for her, because it isn’t super constricting and it’s a job most people who do it love!

Now onto Robin!

Her middle name is Leora!

For some reason I have this idea in my head that she doesn’t live with her parents anymore. Not that she got kicked out or anything, just that she moved out pretty early on.

I also think she isn’t from Hawkins. I like the idea that her family moved there just before high school from either Ohio or Maryland, not sure which.

In band, I think she’s a flute. She just gives me flute vibes but I got kicked out of the band so maybe I could be wrong.

It’s canon that she’s goth, wearing her spiky leather bracelet with her work uniform and all, but I think she also sometimes goes in the totally opposite fashion direction, like, sometimes she’s just feeling the patterns and fabrics and colors of the sixties and seventies her mom gave her.

One of her favorite things to do with her friends is go shopping! Not like, around malls, in part because other than Starcourt, the closest mall to Hawkins is forty five minutes away, but she likes to go out with her group and visit all the local thrift shops and cafés and stuff like that.

And she’s super crafty! She has embroidery hoops, beads, jewelry making kits, all of it scattered everywhere!

She has like, the tips of her hair bleached, they sort of look like highlights in a way, so I think it was her that convinced Steve to get his highlights done too.

Matter of fact, I think she teaches Steve a lot of things about himself without either of them realizing. She’s just so, not-superficial I guess, that it starts to rub off of him.

In my head she’s just always got like, a suuuuuper good read on people even if they just met, like, she just sees straight through everybody ever, and that’s why she even gives Steve a chance despite knowing how he treated her in school.

Her Scoops! shorts are pretty big while Steve’s are tight as heck, so I hc that those are his shorts. The uniform used to be a skimpy sailor skirt, but she’s seventeen and not particularly keen on being creeped on by older men when she gets hired there, so she refuses to wear it. She gets in trouble on the first day for wearing jeans, and Steve feels bad about it so he gives her the extra pair of shorts from his uniform!

Robin totally bottles up everything from Starcourt until she can’t anymore. Like, Steve is very open about his struggles with what happened under the mall because he wants help and he’s done it alone before, but she feels like she should be strong, grateful that they survived, and just, move on and forget about it. It doesn’t work and she ends up crashing hard. Like she goes from silently suffering to getting panic attacks all the time, and falling in a super deep depression rut. Obviously her friends are very supportive and provide her with the help she needs, and with time (lots and lots of time) she gets better!

Heather!

Her middle name is Ernestine! It was her grandma's name!

I head canon that she is a lesbian and I ship her and Robin!

She calls Billy William all the time because she was raised to be formal and respectful, and Billy just doesn’t feel or sound right when she says it. Even though she insists her name is Heather and she doesn’t need a nickname, Billy calls her Hetty or H!

She wears clip on earrings! Her parents refuse to let her get her ears pierced because they say she needs to respect her image and all that, but she always felt like she was missing some accessories, and found out from one of her friends about clip ons, which they allow!

Even though she has popular girl vibes, I don’t think she was in high school. Just sort of a floater, and she liked it that way! She’s way too sweet to be in with Steve’s crowd, but had some things in common with pretty much everyone else. Once she’s graduated she sort of falls into that popular category around Hawkins because she’s rich and older now, but she’s still the same old Heather.

Heather is a super good baker and cook! Her mother always had her helping in the kitchen while her dad was staying late at work, and eventually she got really good! Sometimes she’ll just randomly bring her friends like, a load of banana bread or a hot dish because it makes everyone happy!

She's a very affectionate person! If she hasn’t seen her friends for a while she’ll kiss them all over, and everytime you see her you have to hug her (unless you don’t want to, she’s equally as understanding as she is lovey!)

I reject canon! Heather is not dead! I know it’s very unlikely but I think the clones in the upside down were like fail saves, and the real versions are all still alive somewhere!

In the case that this is true, when everything gets fixed I don’t think her memories of what happened to her would be intact, and I think that would be super traumatic for her. Almost worse than how she would be feeling if she knew.

In the future she wants to be in the entertainment industry! I can totally see her becoming a country singer or a soap opera actress or both!

Robin becomes a librarian at the same school that Steve works at when he becomes a teacher! She also does art commissions on the side. Sculpting, painting, charcoals, all of it, she’s good at all of it!

And last but not least, Tommy!!

My hc for Tommy’s middle name is Byrd. It was like a super common name at one point and then just sort of plummeted, and I like to think his parents thought they were being original choosing that one. All of his friends call him Tommy Bird to make fun of him, but he secretly doesn’t hate it.

Tommy and Steve didn’t really become friends until middle school! Hawkins has two elementary schools based on which region you live in, and because they live in like, opposite ends of town they go to different ones. But the first day of middle school when the two schools merge, they’re out for recess, Steve sees Tommy alone and approaches him, and they become instant besties!

Tommy is very insecure about his popularity. Steve is cool with letting his slip because he has other things to worry about, but Tommy doesn’t. His grades are alright and his home life is decent, and he’s not involved in upside down business, so when Steve ditches him and people start to lose interest in him, he gets extremely upset. It consumes him sort of, the fear that nobody likes him anymore. That ends up being why him and Carol break it off for good.

Another reason he thinks a reputation is so important is because he used to be picked on before being friends with Steve. When he was little he had giant glasses and dressed kinda lame, and he internalized that a lot. He’s scared that without Steve they’ll go back to that.

All of that is why he clings onto Billy so tight. Like, his best friend for the past six or seven years just walked out without looking back, and he’s terrified that he’s going to be bullied again. So when big tough guy Billy Hargrove rolls into town he’s like I have to be friends with this dude right now or I’ll die.

I ship him with Steve! A lot! But also I like the thought of Tommy and Steve and Billy, platonically and shippy-y!

As for where he’s from, I don’t think Tommy is Hawkins born and raised. He grew up down south, maybe Georgia, or Tennessee?, but then his uncle over in Indiana starts a snake oil business with his dad and they have to move.

I think he’s very much a lightweight. Alcohol isn’t really his thing because his dad was an alcoholic and it scares him that he’ll be like that, so he never really tried it and his tolerance is super low. He always designates himself the driver, only he doesn’t have a car of his own, he’s not allowed to until he’s on his way to college, so he always drives other people’s cars to their houses and walks home.

I don’t know if Tommy is able to avoid the upside down beyond st2. Maybe him and Billy try to keep in contact once school lets out, but he notices somethings off with him because he’s flayed. This could result in him also being flayed, depending on the situation, or if not he might get involved later, because he starts putting the pieces together after Starcourt.

Tommy owning up and joining Steve in monster hunting quests! Heck yeah!

If there is no involvement with all that mess though, I’d say it takes a few years out of high school for him to finally admit to being wrong. Like, he always maintained that he was right to be mad at Steve for driving away and right to be basically just a bully like he was, but once he’s older, mid twenties maybe, he realizes that wasn’t the way to be and calls a bunch of people up to apologize to them.

He goes to beauty school and becomes a hair stylist and makeup artist on television sets!

As for other background characters, like other party members or adults, I don’t have a whole lot of specific ideas that aren’t already canon! In the future if I write anything where they are more central characters that might change, but as of right now I don’t really have any headcanons for them!

#max mayfield #robin buckley #heather holloway #tommy h #nonsense from ej #headcanon #obviously I have a bunch more in my head when I write but this is just the basic stuff I wanted to throw out there #it’s also kinda a mess because I’ve been trying to get this list organized before I post my next fic #which I already said a couple of days ago would be up in a few and it will #I’m working on it I just have a heck ton to do right now #anywho pardon all the projecting I did here #and sorry if this is formatted super weird I’m posting this from mobile

[shihalyfie]

Shihanne’s Kizuna FAQ

Since Kizuna is finally becoming gradually more accessible to English-speakers online, I’ve decided to put together a quick FAQ for those who are not sure about watching the movie or are (understandably) apprehensive about anything about it, especially due to recent events in the franchise and occasional fanbase misinformation. This is not meant to convince anyone towards or against watching the movie as much as it’s just meant to clarify some questions for anyone who might be unsure about watching it, such as how relevant it is to tri. or how canon-compliant it is, etc.

This is meant to be as spoiler-free as possible, although due to the nature of the movie’s contents, I will ultimately have to make minor hints or references to minor plot details. I’ve done my best to keep it to a minimum, but the references to what happens in the story increase progressively as we go further into the post, so feel free to stop reading as soon as you like.

Is Kizuna a sequel to tri.? Are they related?

They are not related. Other than Kizuna being set five years after 2005, there is no relation, not on a story or creative level at all -- the themes, writing style, everything is different. Even the staff is different -- of the tri. staff, the only ones carried over are the voice cast, Producer Kinoshita Yousuke (who was only on Parts 5 and 6, at that, and had no involvement in tri.’s story at all), and some music staff members (AiM, Miyazaki Ayumi) that were also on the original series. Everyone else is either from the original series (original series producer Seki Hiromi, writer Yamatoya Akatsuki) or new staff that self-identifies as Digimon fans.

Notably, Producer Seki was pretty unsubtle about finding certain things about tri. to be unsatisfying, to the point that she openly admitted that certain things in Kizuna were made in direct response to it, so that probably lends a lot to why the creative process behind Kizuna was so diametrically opposite.

What do you need to have seen so far to understand the movie? Do you need to have seen tri.?

You do not have to have seen tri.; it’s effectively irrelevant to Kizuna whatsoever in both theme and story.

I generally recommend having seen Adventure, 02, and their four movies (Digimon Adventure, Our War Game!, Hurricane Touchdown, and Diablomon Strikes Back). Even then, if you’re missing some stuff, the story doesn’t rely on their events so much that it’ll confuse you if you haven’t seen it, and in fact it’s mostly its own story; it’s just that the emotional resonance hits best when you’ve seen what’s happened in the prior works, and its core themes have a lot to do with what was established in Adventure, 02, and its worldbuilding.

Surprisingly, despite being Adventure-centric, I’d say it actually has deeper relevance to the events and themes of 02 than it does Adventure, although that’s just my personal impression. (That’s still “deeper“, in the comparative sense; it most certainly has strong ties to both, and part of it being more 02-relevant is also simply due to the logical nature of it being set in this point in timeline, where 02 is a closer temporal reference point and also has an epilogue that this movie is building up to.)

Are the characterizations consistent with Adventure and 02?

Yes! Very much so! There are a few differences, but they’re all things you can chalk up to how someone would naturally get older and more mature, and even if you personally don’t care for certain developments, they’re still logical extensions of what they might be like as per their character arcs. For the record, making sure the characters felt like themselves seems to have been a pretty big priority for the staff:

Before the preliminary meeting for the script, [Producer Seki] told us, “I haven’t finished reading it, so I’ll be there later,” and then she arrived sometime after the meeting had already started, and said things like, “no, Taichi feels wrong here. He wouldn’t say something like this.”

Producer Seki was personally involved in the creation of all twelve kids and their partners, so it’s safe to say she is probably one of the people you can reliably trust most to understand them. (During the production of the original series, she was also well-known for being the one who pushed for portrayal of their personal home lives and family backgrounds.)

The 02 quartet (Daisuke, Ken, Miyako, and Iori) is portrayed in line with their Japanese version characterizations, so if you watched 02 with the American English dub (which at times took some pretty massive liberties with some of them), there may be some differences.

How much of the cast gets to play a major role in it?

I’ll be frank about the fact that this is mainly a Taichi and Yamato movie (to be fair, it’s not like they hid this fact in advertising). That said, a surprising amount of attention is given to the 02 quartet, and there’s a bit of attention on Koushirou, but the protagonists are most certainly Taichi and Yamato. Mind you, this is in terms of story, not, say, making everyone randomly weak in battle for no good reason; Taichi and Yamato are the “protagonists” of this movie (similar to Our War Game!).

Sora also gets a bit of focus in the short side story “To Sora”, and there’s also a planned upcoming one with Jou (public release details are still unclear, but most certainly expected by the Memorial Story project in December). The accompanying drama CD that came with the deluxe version of the Blu-ray is also centered around the 02 main cast.

What’s with the whole thing about a novel?

There were two official novelizations of the movie, the Dash X Bunko version and the Shueisha Mirai Bunko version. I recommend them as reading for anyone who’s watched the movie; the Dash X has some extra scenes that weren’t in the movie and clarifies a few things, while the Shueisha Mirai clarifies some of the core themes and background points that were a little more obscure in the movie itself.

However, since the movie is first and foremost a visual medium, I do not think that either serve as effective replacements for the movie itself, nor, conversely, that the movie itself is particularly incomplete without them, but rather that, since there are a lot of intricate nuances behind the themes of the movie, they may benefit from some extra clarification. The novels by themselves omit a lot of visual details that enhance the presentation of the movie and make its intended themes much clearer, and since this is a movie that relies more on emotional resonance and feelings moreso than it does events on paper, I don’t think the novels alone constitute an accurate reflection of it.

What was that whole thing about the movie not being compliant with Kakudou lore? Is the 02 epilogue still canon?

The issue most likely has to do with the movie’s premise about partners disappearing when you become an adult. Director Kakudou (original director of Adventure and 02) clarified himself that the “lore inconsistency” had to do with underlying lore that wasn’t depicted directly in the TV series, so it’s not something major like the epilogue (which definitely was depicted on-screen).

His relevant posting is to do with the theory of Digimon being manifested as part of the soul, so my personal guess is that he wasn’t quite on board with the slightly different take the movie had on such a detailed and absolute matter. (He did, however, gracefully invite people to enjoy the movie regardless, so take that as you will.)

Another thing that he mentioned in his detailed posting is that he felt that it would be impossible to reconcile the lore for the TV series and the occasionally contradictory lore from movies 2-4 (Our War Game! through DSB), to the point the original plan for the third Adventure series was shelved partially due to that. Without saying too much, Kizuna does (latently, but nevertheless) involve references to the movies in question, so that probably also contributed to the issue.

For the most part, though, the movie itself doesn’t actually violate that much of the underlying lore for Adventure and 02; it’s compliant with even the background details of his concept (the Chosen Children number tallying over 30,000 by the time of 2010 is consistent with the doubling-every-year principle), and, without spoiling too much, there’s multiple indications in the movie of that whole thing about “partners disappearing when you become an adult” actually being more of a deceptive premise than press made it seem.

As for the epilogue...official press and staff have practically whacked you over the head with a statement that the 02 epilogue still holds and that this movie leads up to it. (Need proof? Here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and about half a million other places in press and press releases; warning that these links are spoilery.) The last one has a pretty clear statement, too:

This is not a movie meant to change the world’s timeline, but rather made to be a connecting story that happened within those 25 years, and we consider it to be a story that expands the world of Digimon.

Producer Seki herself was infamously the one who put her foot down when people asked her about epilogue-related questions in V-Jump, so we’re talking about staff with a history of having no intention of going against the epilogue. This is also consistent with the fact the movie itself constantly drops epilogue and latter-half 02 references (the increasing number of Chosen Children, the kids’ career paths being clear lead-ups to the events of the epilogue).

For all it’s worth, it’s important to remember that the concept of the epilogue ever potentially being retconned has always been purely fanbase invention (and especially Western fanbase, at that). At no point has official staff ever made an indication that they had any intent to go against it (even the tri. staff, of all people, made a huge point of claiming they would still be going with it). Kizuna is not a movie that really holds your hand nor caters to what the fanbase wants, so the best way to enjoy and understand it is going in with the understanding that the epilogue applies by default, rather than considering it to have been written with any possibility of it not applying.

In addition, the actual core theme of the movie itself is very dependent on the assumption that the epilogue holds in mind (which really should be the case, considering that the epilogue was literally right there on screen, no matter how controversial it may have been), and having that assumption allows for a much better understanding of said themes.

Are Takeru and Hikari still involved with the 02 kids?

The events of the movie engineer a situation where the other four end up working as a quartet, but not in a sense where they’ve split or become distant from Takeru and Hikari (rather the contrary, in fact). The circumstances alone go a lot towards explaining why they’re working separately at the time (much like Diablomon Strikes Back), and the drama CD included with the special edition of the Blu-ray confirms that the situation in the movie is purely due to its individual circumstances, and in all other scenarios, they’re still regularly in contact and very close with each other. It’s not played in a way that feels contrary to their known relationship, and, without going into too much detail, there are certain depictions within the movie that reflect them as being part of a “younger group set” with the other four.

Beyond that, a large amount of promotional material classifies Takeru and Hikari as being with the 02 group instead of the Adventure one (for instance, this piece of Ani On Station art).

Is there romance or clear romance baiting in the movie?

No. The movie also happens to be extremely fast-paced (it tries to get a lot of major content out of the way in only 95 minutes, and does not let up even once), so it’s executed in a way in which it’s completely understandable that the topic or depiction would not even be brought up front-and-center, and it comes off as pretty natural in that respect. Quite simply, it feels that even if any of the characters are romantically involved or dating, they’re more than capable of putting the issue aside for the 95 minutes of bigger priorities this movie spans.

For those who are interested in this topic in terms of epilogue compliance (i.e. the two canon confirmed married couples Yamato/Sora and Ken/Miyako), the depictions of the respective characters’ relationships are done in a tasteful way such that, even in the lack of clear depictions of romance, there is minor evidence that the epilogue outcome was on the staff’s minds when writing them, and there’s no awkwardness about it. Or, in other words, where they are now seems completely feasible and natural based on what we know about where they were as of 02 and where we know they’ll end up; there isn’t anything in-your-face about it, but some things might stick out to the particularly perceptive person looking out for it.

Is tri. canon to Kizuna?

Hoo boy, that sure is a question. The answer is...yes and no.

There is a veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery brief, borderline blink-and-you’ll-miss-it clear reference to tri.’s central character Mochizuki Meiko and her partner, Meicoomon. (It has no real relevance to the story whatsoever.) There are things you may consider references, like Yamato being into motorbikes or Koushirou being in company business, but that’s if you really squint. Otherwise, there are no other conclusive references to any of the events from the tri. anime series. In addition, Kizuna very much prioritizes compliance with Adventure and 02, and, when faced with a plot, lore, or characterization point where it has to decide between Adventure/02 compliance or tri. compliance, it absolutely prioritizes the former, even if that means posing a direct contradiction to tri. (a good example being its portrayal of Digimon and Digimon partnerships as something that’s been a naturally increasing part of life since 1995, in stark contrast to tri. having Digimon be seen as unidentified mysterious entities all the way in 2005).

I wouldn’t say Kizuna retcons tri., but it seems to handle it in a way similar to what I call “M03 status” (M03 being previously Adventure/02′s most infamously difficult-to-rationalize entity in canon, especially when it has its own sequel in the form of The Door to Summer) -- it doesn’t go out of its way to reject anything as much as it encourages you to not think too hard about it, and prioritizes compliance with the original series when push comes to shove. Since there’s nothing really contradictory about the idea that “a girl named Mochizuki Meiko with a partner Meicoomon exists” (just like how there’s nothing contradictory about the idea that “a boy named Wallace exists and Daisuke and his friends met him in the US once”), I would say that if you do want to think about it too hard, it’s possible for some of the events of tri. to have happened, but not in the exact way they were presented in the actual real-life anime series.

Although it may seem like a cop-out to some, personally, I feel that the contradictions (especially the lore and timeline-related ones) between Adventure/02 and tri. are so huge in number and significant that it would be impossible for a 95-minute movie to maintain its integrity as a creative work while trying to resolve that laundry list of issues, and overall the movie does give off the impression of being “fun and emotional” more than anything, so it does feel like about the most practical decision they could have feasibly made.

Is it a perfect movie?

No!

Like with any work, there are things you might criticize, or that your personal taste might not match up well with. I mentioned earlier that the movie itself actually is closer in thematic line with 02 than it is Adventure, so people hoping for Adventure reference overdose or Digital World specific lore might be a bit disappointed in this respect (it focuses a bit more on the human growth and drama angle than the Digimon lore and coolness angle, although that’s not to say it completely neglects it whatsoever). There are some writing nitpicks I would say were endemic to the original series as well (some very vital thematic elements are a bit too subtle for their own good, to the point the novels and staff interviews feel a bit more necessary than they should be), and if your favorite character didn’t get a lot of spotlight in this movie, that might be a bit disappointing.

But don’t get me wrong: I don’t say any of this to harp on the movie, but mainly because I think it’s unfair to have unrealistic expectations of it. This is a single movie that’s meant to be fun and enjoyable more than anything else, and to make you think about the themes it has to say. I would not think of it as a full series nor something meant to fulfill the role of a full series, but rather a single movie -- much like Our War Game!, which is a fun and enjoyable movie but by no means a comprehensive series-scale entity -- that’s meant to entertain you and give you lots of emotions and make you think about things in the span of 95 minutes.

If anything, it is a movie definitely made with a lot of heart and passion by its staff, who clearly put a lot of love and effort and respect for the original Adventure/02 (yes, both) into it and wanted to say something emotionally moving. For all intents and purposes, both Adventure and 02 were the same way -- not necessarily free of writing problems, but full of a ton of love, passion, and soul -- and so I think it is a movie very true to the original series in this way.

#digimon #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #shihameta

[darktypeimagines]

Hi! I was wondering if you could expand a bit on the ´S/O from Unova´ who travels the world (Specifically Leon). This request is a little specific so here goes; The S/O has a thing for fire types, and while in Galar studies under Kabu (They are a HUGE fan) They have two partner pokemon, an Emboar and a Drifblim. Thank you so much, for your time :)

2nd ask – I assume you saw my message about missing posts and re-sent this.  Since the asks have slightly different details, I’ll just combine them into one post

“Hiya! Could you do some HC´s for a trainer who´s mentored by Kabu? To elaborate they´e been a fan since a young child, and also adore fire types. Said trainer has gone to Galar to test their mettle against gym leaders w/ their ace Emboar. After the match, the trainer asked if Kabu could help them specifically w/ fire types.”

So, based on the asks, I’m assuming you want the same character as from the Unovan strategist ask, so I’ll expand on that. I changed up the order of things a little bit.  AND OH BOY I WROTE WAAAAY TOO much again.  I split it halfway to save your dashes.  There’s nothing really triggering, although some people might not be into a relationship with a decent age gap.  

———————————————————————————

You were pretty young when you decided to be a trainer, much like many kids.  But, unlike many kids, you were hyperfixated on one particular trainer: the fire type specialist, Kabu.

You first became a fan ALL the way back when he first joined the Galar League.  Despite being from Unova, you often watched the Galar league because there was just a sense of excitement that was lacking in other leagues.  Galar made a show of their tournaments, so their televised battles were watched worldwide.

Once you set out beyond Unova, you decided to head over to Galar. You needed a fresh challenge, and considering it was the Galar League that helped you decide your course in life, it felt natural to head there next

You ended up battling all the other Galar gym leaders before finally heading to Kabu.  Might as well save your favorite for last!

Apparently, he heard about you already.  News travels fast, especially when the news is about a famous Unovan trainer who’s randomly challenging all of the gym leaders of his region.  He knew he’d encounter you eventually.

He greeted you in the gym, rather formally, saying he was expecting you. You were low-key freaking out on the inside, but managed to keep yourself together.  For about a minute.  Then you lost it.  You started gushing, telling you how you watched him on TV since you were a little kid. How you looked up to him.  How you became a fire-type specialist because of him.  And how, growing up, you wished you could have trained under him.  How that was your most common daydream.

And then you stopped.  Oh no. You went too far.  

Kabu gave you a knowing look, and let out a small laugh. He was used to this; it happened all the time with fans.  Although, it wasn’t every day such an accomplished trainer came up to him and told him he inspired them…  It was incredibly flattering.

He said he would have loved to train you, but you probably surpassed him by now.  He wasn’t sure if you could learn much from him.

WHATAREYOUTALKINGABOUTOFCOURSEICOULDLEARNMOREYOUREAMAZINGYOUHAVESOMUCHMOREEXP- was basically the gist of what you incoherently blurted out.

 Kabu was surprised at the outburst, but he just smiled again.  Did he blush, or did you imagine it?  You’d never know.

Well… in that case. He knew you came to battle, but if you really, really wanted to, he could train you.  He wouldn’t mind.  He’s still not sure what he could possibly teach you, but he could try to come up with something!

After a bit of mental short-circuiting, you said yes!  Of course!  It was a dream come true for you, and… it took you a while to feel like it was actually happening.

You stayed at the inn during your training.  The first thing Kabu had you do was change your schedule. You had to meet up with him before dawn and then make your way down to wherever you were training that day.

Usually, it was one of the mines or his gym.  What surprised you was the content of his training. Often, it wasn’t even battling. It almost seemed like he was training you rather than helping you with your Pokemon or battling…

You had to endure the elements.  Snowstorms near Circhester.  The heat of the Dusty Bowl.  Battling in the pitch-black night.

You jogged together.  Meditated. Kabu even talked to you about eating a little healthier.

You asked him when you were actually going to train with battling.  And that was when Kabu decided to explain his thinking to you.  It was clear that you were a talented trainer.  You knew strategy.  You knew your Pokemon inside and out.  But, what about you?  Were you in peak condition, mentally and physically?  A battle could occur anywhere, at any time, so you needed to be prepared at all times.  Otherwise, there was a chance you could let down your partners…

Plus, as he said earlier, he explained, you seem to have surpassed him in terms of actual battling long ago.

After this, you agreed to continue.  Being with him was a dream, even if it wasn’t what you were expecting.

This went on for months.  You began to wonder how long this would go on for.  Not that you were complaining.  And, in that time, the two of you grew closer.

You started having dinner together frequently.  Kabu was a pretty good cook, so often the two of you just ended up at his house.  Due to the intensity of your training, you often ended up curled up next to Emboar on the floor, passed out after dinner. You always found a blanket on top of you when you woke up.

But, in time, you began to feel the itch to battle. Specifically, against him.  So, one morning, when you first met up, you simply asked him.

He smiled, and said sure.  If you felt you needed to battle him, then you needed to battle him!  So, the two of you headed down to his gym.  It wasn’t open yet, so it was eerily quiet, but in a way, it felt right.

He asked if you wanted to battle in a certain way; he knew Unovan people sometimes had battles with three Pokemon, after all.  And he knew you didn’t Dynamax.  You said a typical single battle would be fine, and that you’d LIKE it if he Dynamaxed! More challenge, after all…

You did agree to have a three on three battle, though, since he only had five Pokemon.

You sent out Emboar; he started with Arcanine.  The large dog growled, baring its teeth – the aggression was quite intimidating and seemed to daunt Emboar.  You knew its attacks might be weaker and more hesitant now…

But, before Kabu could give an order, you had Emboar use Sucker Punch, catching Arcanine off guard and stunning them.  Despite being intimidated, Emboar landing quite the hit!

While Arcanine was trying to recover, you had Emboar follow up the last attack with a Fire Punch.  Not a very effective attack type wise, but it would be fast enough for a quick follow up attack.

Before Emboar could ready another attack, Kabu had Arcanine launch a flurry of Extremespeeds. They took their toll on Emboar, and it was difficult for your Pokemon to get back on its feet.

·As Arcanine was about to start another round, you had Emboar strike the ground and use Earthquake.  It hit Arcanine before it could reach Emboar, and it fainted.

Kabu sent out Ninetales next.  This round was a bit more uneventful, as Emboar got another Earthquake in, which badly injured Ninetails.  But then the fox got in an Extrasensory, knocking out Emboar.

You sent off Drifblim next, the balloon ghost rising high on the residual heat from Emboar’s attacks.  Most people were surprised that you, a fire type specialist, had a random ghost type on your team.  But this was purely strategic.  What most people didn’t know is that Drifblim, like a hot air balloon, could rise higher and faster with hot air.  You used their lack of knowledge to your advantage.

With Drifblim flying high above, Ninetales tried to launch a Fire Blast at them.  Before the move could hit, though, you had Drifblim use Phantom Force.  The ghost vanished, making the fire move miss.  Both Kabu and Ninetales searched around the arena, but Drifblim was nowhere to be found.  Ninetales braced itself for an attack, but didn’t know where to focus its attention.

Moments later, a dark portal appeared behind the fox, and Drifblim flew out, attacking Ninetales.  Between this powerful move and the damage Ninetales took earlier, Kabu’s Pokemon fell, unable to battle further.

Kabu sent out his last Pokemon, Centiskorch.  Luckily for your strategy, just the fire bug’s presence bought new heat to the arena, speeding up your Drifblim.  Kabu immediately Gigantamaxed his Centiskorch, the bug type surrounding itself in energy and quickly taking up the other half of the battlefield.

And you know what?  You had a plan to deal with the giant Pokemon.  It was a cheap tactic, but you knew it’d work.  You had Drifblim use Phantom Force throughout Centiskorch’s Gigantamax time. The giant bug tried to hit Drifblim with Centiferno multiple times, but due to the hot air, Drifblim kept out speeding its opponent.  Finally, Centiskorch reverted to its normal sized form.

It hadn’t taken much damage due to its defense boost, but it was far from unscathed.  As Centiskorch reverted back to its normal form, Kabu surprisingly had it use Crunch, landing a critical blow on Drifblim.

Drifblim wouldn’t be able to last much longer.  It sputtered up and down, trying to keep altitude, obviously exhausted. You felt a little bad doing this… but, you knew it would earn you the win.

You had Drifblim rush Centiskorch, which Kabu didn’t expect. When they were within range, you yelled to your Pokemon to unleash Explosion!  In the blast of smoke and fire, you couldn’t see whether or not it finished the job.  But as the battlefield cleared, you saw both Pokemon, Drifblim laying on top of Centiskorch, fainted.  You had won, with a Pokemon to spare.

After returning your Pokemon, and quietly promising Drifblim a nice treat when you got home, you and Kabu approached each other.

He congratulated you.  It had been a while since he had such a fierce battle!  With an explosive ending, too!  He said he hoped to battle you again someday, and wished you the best along the rest of your journey.

What?

Oh yeah.  You were traveling the world.  Right.

Honestly, though, being with Kabu reminded you what “home” felt like. You felt comfortable with him.  You didn’t want to leave.

And. You broke down and got emotional.  Kabu was rather worried, and quickly crossing the space between you, putting a hand gently on your shoulder.  He asked what was wrong, although you have a feeling he had an idea.

You told him.  You blurted it out.  That you adored him, beyond that of a regular fan.  You… loved him? You weren’t sure yet.  But you knew you had feelings for him and the thought of leaving was a nightmare for you.

It took a moment for Kabu to respond.  He seemed to have to gather his thoughts.  And then, he said it.  He felt the same way.  But he felt you needed to move on.  After all, how could you improve yourself if you stayed here?

But… While he doesn’t want to admit it, because of the age difference between you two, he, too, had feelings for you.  He loved your passion; how you were willing to go to such lengths for your dreams.  You looked up to him for so long, and worked your way towards eventually meeting him.  And even after you realized how hard his training was, you stuck with him!  He admired you.  And he also didn’t really want you to go.

After a long talk, which took place at his home since you both needed somewhere more comfortable to work things out, it was decided that you two would give this a shot.  

You immediately moved in with him.  But, beyond the added romance, the same structure that bought you together remained. You still trained together.  You still woke up early together.  Only now, you woke up before dawn with a kiss and retired to your home – the one you shared.

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