#and down here to hide him:

[nehswritesstuffs]

Baratie: Home to Chefs, Strays, and the Occasional Sword Goblin - Part 3

There are so many Good Nehs Dopamine Hits in this chapter that it’s almost unreal, ha.

First chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3] 

Prior chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

With Usopp about to arrive with reinforcements, Sanji wonders if really can handle taking care of his sister’s kid and all the things that would entail. [4503 words]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The remainder of the day passed without much incident. Sanji kept Asido with him as he concentrated on the chunk of paperwork that, if he was honest, he had been pointedly ignoring up until late. There were some children’s books in the lost and found, so he was able to hand them over and allow his nephew to read to himself while he finally was able to tackle the geezer’s bizarro accounting system. Once that was cracked, he was able to move on to the rest of the work, which was decidedly going to be less frustrating and more boring and trite. It would likely take him the entire time he was waiting on Usopp to finish everything up, especially how his mind kept on wandering while he was working.

There was so much that he did not know the answer to, and that bothered him most of all, he supposed. This kid came out of nowhere, reportedly having been off the radar of a man who was completely and entirely all about how much control he exerted over his children and his subjects. It was even likely that Reiju had been followed to the Baratie, and that their father was exacting his revenge on her at that very moment before handing her over to a different sort of captor. He even burnt himself while lost in thought, cigarette sitting idly between his fingers as he watched his nephew bounce around on the back deck. Hissing at it, he threw the stub in the ocean, more pissed that he forgot about it for half the smoke than anything.

“You alright, Uncle Sanji?” He glanced up and saw Asido staring at him, brows furrowed curiously.

“Yeah—I need to cut back on those things anyhow,” he shrugged. “Say, you’re pretty good at playing by yourself. Who did you play with back home?”

“Mom and Miss Cosette, and they couldn’t always play,” Asido admitted. “I had my own secret room, and when I had to be in there, I played by myself a lot.”

That piqued his interest. “How often were you in this secret room?”

“Sometimes a lot, sometimes not—it depended on Mom and Miss Cosette’s works.” The boy did a cartwheel and almost landed in the ocean, which his uncle deftly stopped with grace only brought on by having minded the Pirate King. “It was okay though, because there was a magic door that Miss Cosette made food appear in, and there was a Den Den that Mom would check with me on, and windows like sunglasses so I could see out and no one could see in.”

“My sister knows how to keep her son safe, after all,” Sanji said. The smile on his face did not reach his eyes—just another thing he needed to ask about. “Say, your mom didn’t teach you anything about fighting, did she?”

“Fighting? Only that it’s bad.”

“Well, yeah, it’s bad, but what if someone bad tries to fight you, or steal you, and there’s no other choice?”

“Oh…” The boy went quiet and still, attempting to think clearly. “No… why?”

“This ship gets attacked by bad guys sometimes, and I was thinking that you need to make sure you know how to fight if you’re gonna stay here.”

“Fight like Sora?”

Somewhere inside Sanji, a knife twisted ever so slightly.

“No, but I was thinking that maybe I could help you. That cartwheel you did reminds me of stuff I can do, stuff I can do while fighting, even if it’s just for fun.”

“Why would fighting be fun?”

Sanji didn’t want to tell Asido just yet about the dangers of the seas, how there would be people willing to kill him, to kill for him, to love him, to drive him to ruin, and he needed to be prepared for them all. He thought about petty squabbles with a living scrap of moss, but also a lone, odd night where they made certain they were alive in a very different way. That was once though—a slip—and it wasn’t like it was brought up ever again.

“It can be, because it gets you moving, and your blood pumping, and sometimes in order to not fight-fight, you got to pretend-fight so that you don’t get cranky and grumpy.”

“Ah.” He watched the gears in the boy’s head crank slowly yet methodically. “What can you do, Uncle Sanji?”

Chuckling, Sanji used Skywalk to hop up to the very top of the ship, coming back down again to a very excited Asido. The boy had stars in his eyes as he stared at his uncle, as though he’d just met the hero from the comic pages.

“Wow! When can I learn how to do that?!”

“You gotta master a bunch of other stuff first,” Sanji laughed. Asido pouted, looking like he was going to cry. “Since you seem to be good with cartwheels, do you want to work on flips first? I think you’d do pretty well with those.”

...and so they worked on tumbling for the better part of the afternoon, Sanji guiding the boy’s body as he slowly went through motions his own limbs were well-practiced in. They eventually went inside when it was time to make dinner, with Asido quietly watching the kitchen work in tandem as he stayed in the corner, safe and out of the way. Carne kept staring at nephew and uncle, wondering what it was that he believed, though it also meant that he was being glared at by Sanji, the other man making himself loud and clear without uttering a word.

Anyone were to question the boy and they would see the flaming side of his heel. No exceptions.

Rain moved in while they were eating, and that ended up being the end of training for the day. Thunder rumbled lowly in the distance, though the waves did not become too terribly high; it was the benefit of being in shallow waters with light wind, the crew knew, and they went to bed knowing the ship was strong and the cupboards were sealed tight for a reason.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Asido wondered as he looked all around the bedroom. It was one of the spares that dominated Zeff’s floor of the crew’s quarters, the dresser of which Sanji was currently placing the majority of his nephew’s things.

“This room should get used anyhow; there could be ten visitors up here, me included, and the geezer would still have more than enough room to swing his peg around,” Sanji explained. He didn’t say that it was because Zeff anticipated more than a few comings and goings of his foster son’s crew, but that was a fact better left unsaid for the time being. “I think next time we go into port, we should get you some more clothes.”

“…but I like my clothes.”

“I’m sure you do, but you also didn’t come with very many, and I don’t want to be doing laundry constantly.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, mussing it so his eyebrows peeked out from under his bangs. “Besides, you look like you’re about to grow soon, so we should get you stuff in bigger sizes too.”

“How can you tell?!” Asido’s eyes were wide, making Sanji chuckle.

“It’s a power grownups have,” he only half-lied. “Now climb into bed so you can get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“We do…?”

“Yeah—there’s some special guests coming, one of whom I haven’t seen in a long time. He’s kind of an idiot, but very, very nice. I think you’ll like him.”

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah.”

Asido climbed into the bed and settled in under the covers. The entire thing seemed to engulf him, as it was a mattress meant for a full-grown adult more than a little kid. He stared at Sanji expectantly, unsure of what to say.

“What is it, azuki?”

“Do uncles give goodnight kisses?”

“Of course we do.” Sanji went into his memory of every time his mother kissed either him or Reiju, trying to remember what it was like. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead, which elicited a content squeak. “Better…?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Uncle Sanji. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, azuki bean.”

Another check of the room and Sanji left for his own, deciding it had been a busy enough day for him to turn in a bit earlier than usual. Light was still peeking out from under Zeff’s door, and he left the old man alone. Instead he went and showered, letting the spray run so hot it burned his skin a deep pink.

He wondered if he was strong enough to do this.

Fucking hell, what did Reiju just do to him? He went through the motions slowly, not getting out of the shower until after his skin was starting to prune. Taking him for a week or a month would have been one thing, a fair warning would have been another, but… how did she know to send him there? Did she know he would look at the boy and see a happier version of himself? She had to—his elder sister knew what manipulation was and how to use it to her advantage. He was going to have to go through Zeff’s newspaper collection and see what sort of things Germa had been up to the past six years, as much as it pained him to think of it. Maybe it could give him some clues without writing Reiju some very direct questions… or Cosette for that matter… and that didn’t even get into the fact of he had so little to give the child now slumbering in the other room that he would even need to consider turning to public records for answers.

Towel-dried and in pajamas, Sanji laid down in bed, taking comfort in the act of being horizontal. It had been a long day and he needed to relax. He tried to unwind his brain by going into a list of all the things that Usopp enjoyed eating, since he was presumably staying for at least a dinner and a breakfast. It was just beginning to work when he heard his door creak open—it was Asido, the boy quietly closing the door behind him.

“Hey, why aren’t you in bed?” he asked. The boy’s eyes reached the floor in embarrassment.

“Uncle Sanji…? Can I stay with you…?”

He exhaled heavily and pulled back the blanket. “C’mon kiddo, get in here.” Asido immediately launched himself into the bed and snuggled up against Sanji’s chest, making his uncle frown. “Hey, hey, what’s this about? You alright…?”

“I had a bad dream,” the boy whimpered. Sanji tucked the kid in and laid his arm atop the blanket, hugging him protectively. After all, when it was said and done, he was still just a scared little boy without his mom for the first time.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“…no.” A pause. “Is that okay…?”

“Sometimes, you can’t talk about things like that for a long time,” Sanji mused. He thought about his own childhood nightmares, and how he hoped his nephew’s were nowhere near as bad. “I’ve had my fair share of bad dreams—I get it.”

A nod. “I miss Mom.”

“I miss her a lot too.” Sanji stroked the boy’s hair, reminded of the way Zeff used to calm him down. “You know… I think I remember a lullaby from when your mom and I were kids. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, please,” Asido whimpered.

Sanji reached back into the recesses of his memory and began to sing softly. He certainly was no Soul King, but the words passed over his lips as though he had last heard it a fortnight prior, not twenty years. Tears silently fell from his eyes as he blinked in the darkness, emotions he thought he had worked past bubbling to the surface.

By the time the song was done, the boy was fast asleep, if still trembling, and it was all his uncle could do to not give in himself. The pain had been dulled with time, he thought, except having Asido curled into him, desperate for his protection, made it all flare up as though the wound was still open and raw. To make it all worse, Sanji wasn’t even entirely certain who to be angry with—his father? His sister? His nephew’s father, whomever that was? The rich dipshit over in Notice who was likely attempting to canoodle with the wrong woman? He didn’t know, but then again… how could he?

Another low rumble of thunder punctuated the fall of the rain and Sanji felt himself drift off towards sleep as he thought about menu options, grounded to the child shivering in his grasp.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The storm broke overnight and, came with it, a gentle dawn with calm seas and a clear sky. Sanji let Asido sleep in his bed while he went and made breakfast, allowing him and Zeff to eat alone.

“Look at it this way: at least you know the likelihood they are the same nightmares you had as a kid is low,” Zeff shrugged. “I’d take that as a win if I were you.”

“A hollow victory, since I still don’t know what’s going on,” the younger man replied. “At least Usopp will get here today—I don’t like this waiting bullshit.”

“It could be worse—he could be bringing your captain over.” Sanji shuddered at that.

“The kid needs to adjust first before he meets Luffy. Fuck, it’s a risk just bringing Usopp into all this.”

“They’re your friends, eggplant.”

“Yeah, who I made with no thoughts of ever running into anyone from before the Baratie ever again.” He looked at the small photo in the society section of the paper and frowned. “She looks so miserable.”

“She’s smiling.”

“I know that smile—that’s not a good smile.”

The air sat heavy between them as Sanji continued to look at the paper. As much as he wished he could wholly sever himself from his childhood, the fact remained that he was still terribly attached no matter how hard he tried. One look at Reiju and he saw their mother, and with her, a life they could have had all this time. What sort of resistance there would have been were she still breathing, what could have changed if he weren’t the only one who left, what paths their lives could have taken…

“Son…” Zeff placed his hand on Sanji’s wrist, the act pulling the latter back into the room. He felt his face and realized it was wet with tears.

“She’s not coming back for him, is she?” Sanji asked quietly. “She left him here because neither of us fit in and never will, even if we try. He’s been abandoned.”

“Part of me completely agrees with that,” Zeff frowned, “but only part. Without her around to show the family resemblance, he looks enough like your kid to where snoops won’t ask the wrong questions, and I think abandoned is too strong a word to use if he got brought to the only other member of his family that knows what it’s like to be on the outside.”

“It’s not fair to any of us.”

“I didn’t say anything about fairness, eggplant.”

“…but what happens when Chopper clears you to take back the restaurant? What then?”

“Don’t think about that shit—we’ll get there when we get there.”

“…but I don’t know…!”

“Uncle Sanji…? Grandpa Zeff…?” The two men looked to see that Asido had finally woken up and had shuffled into the room. “Why didn’t you get me up?”

“Nightmares need a little extra sleeping time to go away,” Sanji said, passing the newspaper to Zeff for safekeeping. Asido went red and looked down at the carpet, though Zeff let out a laugh instead.

“He knows from experience, azuki,” he chortled. “I used to let him sleep in the morning after a nightmare too. Seems to me it’s like uncle like nephew.” He watched as Asido slowly raised his eyes and looked at him, squeaking in terror before going to sit at what was now his place at the table. “Come now—no reason to be scared here. That dream can’t hurt you when the sun is up and we’re around.”

“He’s right; it can’t,” Sanji agreed. He watched as Asido nibbled at his toast with jam. “Hey, what’s wrong, Asido? Still the dream?”

“What don’t you know?” the boy asked. Sanji glared at Zeff for a moment before turning back to his nephew.

“I don’t know when our visitor is coming later,” he only semi-lied. Fuck—at this rate, he was going to need to take pointers from Usopp while he was on the ship. “Do you remember me telling you last night? About our visitors?”

“Yeah… but I thought you did know when he was coming.”

“Maybe later today, maybe tomorrow if the wind is bad,” Sanji explained. “Now let’s hurry up so I can get a cigarette in before we pop in the office for the day.”

“That stuff makes you stinky,” Asido giggled, wrinkling his nose. Zeff his a laugh behind a cough, earning him a glare from his son.

“Maybe figuring out what I can do instead can be a project for the two of us, hmm?” Sanji posed. His nephew brightened, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You can teach me more of the flippy stuff!” Zeff raised an eyebrow curiously. “Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you last night at dinner! Uncle Sanji’s teaching me how to make sure I can fight enough so I don’t get stoleded if bad guys come here!”

“Stolen,” Sanji corrected, tips of his ears turning pink. “So you don’t get stolen, Asido.” He didn’t need to see Zeff’s face to know the bastard was grinning nearly as wide as his mustache. “That might be something for you and Grandpa Zeff to do once he is allowed to move around a bit more. He was the one who taught me the basics.”

“Feeling better or not, I’m still an old man,” Zeff chuckled. “I can supervise and make sure that Uncle Eggplant is teaching the azuki properly, but my fighting days might just be a thing of the past, aside from putting the odd greenhorn or two in line.”

“Fucking troublesome,” Sanji growled. “Either you’re done or you’re not.”

“Gotta keep him on his toes,” Zeff told Asido, giving the boy a wink. The child giggled—mission accomplished.

“Alright, breakfast’s over; get to your room and pick out your clothes for the day. I’ll be in to help you wash soon.”

“Oh, I can do that, Uncle Sanji!” Asido claimed. “I did it myself all the time at home!”

“Then go show me how big of a boy you are and get ready—I’ll be in to check on you in fifteen minutes.”

At that, Asido hopped off his chair and ran from the room. Sanji gave Zeff an exasperated look and the older man chuckled.

“Yes, you should be tired just watching him,” Zeff chortled. “I went through the same shit with you.”

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny, brat.” The older man could not help but give the younger a shit-eating grin—fucking bastard was enjoying this. “Now get going, or the kid’ll beat you to the punch.”

“Sounds like you know from experience.”

Zeff glanced down at his newspaper and pretended to not hear Sanji. Rolling his eyes, the blond took the dishes with him to the kitchen and made sure all the shifts were covered and roles assigned before heading back to his charge. Sure enough, it was fifteen minutes nearly to the second, and Asido was struggling with getting his shirt on correctly. Sanji disengaged the boy from the garment and eased it on him, a bright smile as his thanks.

“What are we going to do today, Uncle Sanji?” Asido wondered.

“Well, we are mostly going to stay in the office until our visitors get here, and then we’re going to be with them until the end of the day.” Sanji left the room and started walking down the stairs to the deck, his nephew close behind. “You know, my friend is bringing someone to help out with you… to watch over you while I work, since the kitchen is too busy for you right now and the geezer can’t physically keep up for long.”

“Oh, like Mom and Miss Cosette taking turns watching me?” Asido asked. Once they were out on the deck he began to bounce around and try out some of the moves he was shown the day before with disturbing accuracy.

“Exactly… I…” Sanji watched the boy as he tumbled about, marveling at his ability to pick things up. His Lineage Factor might not have been altered directly by Judge’s hands, but the boy was still showing the effects of the fucker’s tampering with Reiju. “You know that I’ll still be easy to find, right?”

“Well, yeah—you’ll just be in the kitchen working.” Asido looked at him, head tilted, and seemed nearly Luffy-like in his ability to appear as though he knew everything that Sanji wanted to say. “It’s part of being an adult, right? Working?”

“I normally work a lot of hours, and there might be days where you don’t see me for anything other than meals, if that.” He choked down his emotions, making sure to seem strong and resilient for the lad. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m sick of you, or don’t want you around.”

“Mom said we were going to a fun place,” Asido claimed. “Why would she say this is a fun place, but then you want me to leave?”

Oh, the things he wanted to tell the boy, that he wanted to instill in him; it was neither the time, nor place, however, and he simply offered a wan smile instead.

“Just covering my bases,” Sanji claimed. “Now let me adjust your form—you’re really-super close to getting this right…”

About half of the morning passed with Sanji helping Asido tumble and flip on the deck before they went inside to the office. Once the shopping list for the dry goods run was complete, it was time to make lunch, and they returned to the tiny room after what was thankfully an uneventful meal. They worked quietly, with Sanji tackling payroll and Asido kept busy with books and crayons from the lost-and-found, until about an hour before the dinner rush, when a waiter poked his head in nervously.

“Uh… sir…? You have a visitor.” Sanji glanced at him, trying not to seem hopeful.

“Long nose, more hair than he seems to know what to do with, nervous knees?”

The waiter paused at that. “Braided until about here…?” He awkwardly chopped the base of his own skull with his hand. “Otherwise… well… yeah…”

“Thank fuck, it’s Usopp.” He put his pen down and looked at Asido. “C’mon—our visitor is here. Let’s go meet him.”

“Oh, cool!”

The boy eagerly abandoned his coloring project to grab onto his uncle’s hand and get led through the restaurant to the back deck, where all the varying small craft the staff used was moored up. As Sanji approached the small boat with a familiar jolly roger, he noticed three pint-sized terrors running up to him.

“Uncle Sanji!” the children gasped. Asido hid behind the blond while the other children slammed into the man’s legs, the combination nearly knocking him over. Give him a ship full off attacking pirates any day, but preschoolers? He was dead.

“...and how are you ladies doing?” he laughed. He looked at the girls and tried not to scream—this was not what he asked for, no matter how precious they were. “Did Mom come with you?”

“Nuh-uh!” the eldest said, shaking her blonde curls exaggeratedly. “She needs to stay home annacanta the baby making her feel gross!”

“Do you mean ‘on account of’?”

She thought about it. “Yes!” Her twin sisters giggled—oh, their father was in for it.

Speaking of, Sanji glanced up and saw Usopp ducking behind the supply boat, which caused him to frown. “Get out here, you coward, and meet my nephew.”

“Oh, I wasn’t hiding—what gave you that idea?” Usopp laughed nervously as he walked into view. He visibly cringed as Sanji gave him a look questioning the presence of the children, though didn’t offer a verbal reply. Instead, he let his daughters flock to him, the girls bringing him over to the chef. “So, where’s the lucky kid?”

“Right here,” Sanji said. He looked behind him at the child clutching the back of his trouser legs and pat his head. “Come on, Asido—meet Usopp and the girls. Merry’s just a little older than you. I think they’ll be great cousins.”

Cautiously, Asido poked his head around his uncle’s legs and stared at the newcomers. He balled the pants fabric in his fists, unsure about how to greet the strangers, specifically the ones more his size. The eldest girl approached him, a big smile on her face.

“Hi! I’m Merry!” she said brightly. “I’m almost five, and these are my sisters, Montie and Lea! They’re two and a half! Montie looks like Mom, and Lea looks like Dad, but I look like them both! You kinda look like Uncle Sanji, don’t you? Your eyebrows kind of give it away! Dad says you’re Uncle Sanji’s nephew-nephew, which is different from him being my uncle because him and Dad are friends, and…”

“Merry, give the boy a break,” Usopp sighed. He knelt down in front of Asido and gave him a gentle smile. “Hey, kiddo, you get Sanji taking care of you and you gain a whole ship full of extra bonus aunts and uncles. I’m the best one: Captain Usopp!”

“Uncle Sanji… I don’t feel so good…” Asido mumbled, reaching to be picked up. Sanji scooped the boy up in his arms and rested him against his hip, allowing him to cling to him and bury his face in his chest.

“He’s still a little shy—a lot of this is new to him,” he explained. Merry pouted sourly, while the twins looked confused. Usopp nodded in understanding, however, as he rose to his feet. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing the ladies… or that Kaya is stuffed… again…”

“Yeah, well, we thought some Mommy Alone Time would be nice, and it gives the girls a chance to meet the little guy. Plus, well, they wanted some more time with their babysitter.”

“…and who the flip might that be?”

Right on cue, a familiar yawn came from Usopp’s boat, making Sanji’s stomach drop. He looked towards the craft and saw Zoro stepping out, looking as though he was fresh from a nap.

Oh, fuck.

[gas-station-trackphone]

ftm trans Eddie Munson gets turned into a chew toy for hell bats and rescued in the 11th hour by his friends who don't know he's trans, who have to run some triage first aid and can hardly make sense of the blood and gore that used to be his body as they cut off his shirt and pants to get access to the worst of the wounds, who definitely aren't in their right minds well enough anyway to think of anything other than stopping the bleeding and getting him to a hospital, which they do, and miraculously Eddie finds himself blinking awake in a bright, fluorescent room feeling exactly like he imagines a chew toy for hell bats would feel in the aftermath which is to say: like shit. Even more miraculously, he finds hometown hero Steve Harrington posted up at his bedside with greasy hair (!!! Eddie never thought he'd see the day) and bags under his eyes.

The overwhelming relief on Steve's face when he sees Eddie is awake is touching, the misty eyes and cracking voice when he says god, i thought you were toast, man are downright flattering and, let's face it, giving Eddie all the wrong ideas that he figures he has an I-almost-died pass for at the moment so he rocks with it, let's himself indulge in the fantasy for a moment. Then, gradually, Steve's relief becomes more and more obviously some brand of deeply felt pity (or sympathy, but Eddie's never been good at distinguishing the two), which bursts his bubble enough to call him out.

"I know I look like what comes out the business end of a meat grinder, but I swear I'm good, dude. They definitely have me on the good shit, I hardly feel it. I'll be good as new in no time." Big fat fucking lie, by the way, but he'll say whatever if it gets that wounded puppy look out of Harrington's eyes.

"I...yeah, Eddie, I'm glad." And whatever it is he doesn't want to say, whatever is putting that you poor motherfucker look on his face, he's absolutely the opposite of subtle about it.

Eddie can hear the manifestation of his panic on the heart monitor.

"What? What is it? Is everyone- is Dustin-?" He can't say it, can't even think it, would rather be slowly torn to shreds all over again than know he failed at his one fucking task to keep the kid safe.

"No! I mean, yes, he's fine, they're all fine. Henderson's got a broken ankle and both of Max's arms are broken but the docs say they'll be fine in a few months with physical therapy."

The release of tension in Eddie's body hurts almost as much as the relief soothes him. "Okay then, what the fuck are you not telling me? It's fine, I'm a big boy, Harrington, I can take it."

He sighs, looking sick with it. "Eds...I don't know how to tell you this."

Oh god, what the fuck. Eddie's right back to freaking out because Steve looks inexplicably guilty, pained in the face like he's about to deliver the worst news he could imagine but if everyone's fine then-

"It's your dick, man. It's- it's gone. The bats-"

And Eddie laughs so hard he tears about a dozen stitches, immediately stops laughing, and throws up over the side of the bed and thankfully not all over his freshly reopened wounds as Steve shouts for help.

Eventually, when he's all stitched up again and barely hanging on to his hard earned lesson to not literally bust his gut laughing about the look on Steve's face (he has to force himself not to tell Wayne the specifics of how he ended up back in the OR, because he's absolutely gonna crack up and Eddie will definitely be unable to help himself from laughing with him), he realizes he's going to come out to all his friends in the very near future because holy shit, he has to tell everyone about Steve's utterly devastated expression at the news of Eddie's Ken doll-ification by way of demobat.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Danny and Tim are twins- And Vlad is the first to figure this out in his attempts to get DavlCo a new investor.

---

Tim was getting the creeps from this guy. It was as if the room got colder, the seconds got longer and the room's shadows moved to their own volition. He stared Tim down less like 'You punk kid' and more like 'You'll be mine' in a way that Tim didn't appreciate. At all.

The guy kept setting meetings up despite Tim's direct insistance that Wayne Enterprises would never touch DalvCo- not with a ten foot pole or for all the money in the world. Some how Tim's board of directors kept getting swindled by the guy and... therefore more meetings. More looks from this guy that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

Vlad asked him if he ever went by Timothy- Tim couldn't reply "that's not my name" fast enough. It apparently inspired the guy somehow. More meetings that Tim can't reject because of board members pop up.

It's been long determined that Jason doesn't get involved with Wayne Enterprises, but after the Uncle and a few other paid-actor solutions go up in flames- Tim decides to call up his older brother to act as a bodyguard and tell this guy to fuck off for the final time.

Jason apparently also gets the Heebee-jeebies from this asshole but his message is loud and clear to Vlad. There's a flash of green and then all of sudden it's just Tim and Jason in the room... Only Jason isn't acting like himself.

Putting it together- Tim reaches for his contingency F stash of Knock out gas and doses Jason. Vlad doesn't re-appear so Tim assumes that to mean that he'll be trapped in Jason's person until Jason wakes up.

Walking out of the meeting room with his bus of a brother over his shoulders- Tim quickly asks Tam to reach out to Vlad's Emergency contact. Surely there is someone in this man's company willing to explain what the fuck Vlad was trying to pull. Tim theoretically can keep Jason drugged asleep for a long time- surely that threat can get him somewhere.

The day drags on as Tim continues to keep Jason unconscious and eventually Tam lets him know that someone is here for Vlad. She says it with the addition of one of their codes- He mentally prepares himself for the worst and then... His doppleganger walks through the door? What the fuck?

Tim and Danny puzzle about one another for a little too long and Jason wakes up- Vlad pops out immediately. A shouting match between Danny and Vlad commences and...

"Man I knew our family had unresolved issues but seriously what the fuck has your clone dealing with?" Jason asks, as though he could watch this all day with pop corn.

"You made more clones?!" Danny screamed at Vlad who's only response is "Not this one! This one is actually polite!"

"Fuck you!" Tim and Danny reply in tandem.

[bardicblast]

[13eyond13]

love it when a character that's hard to read intuitively for you has like a dedicated fandom interpreter who can just glance at their blank face in a panel and then give you a 3k word essay on their innermost thoughts & desires & fears and neatly tie it back into the themes & whatnot as if it's the most obvious thing in the world

[anticanonhearts]

slow dance

[herebecritters]

Messes - 3-

Hopps - @ickyguts teehee

[larrythefloridaman]

WOAH, HE'S BIGENDER? I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!

[fauvester]

Ask Game for someone’s OC(s): ✨🍀🍎🍩 svsss ocs?

OOOOH DAAAAA MOSHANG KIDDOS!

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

I like making fankids... my cringe fandom achilles heel... and it would be funny if they weren't like golden halo protags and were instead kind of cringe.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

OH THE MONEYSHOT!

My hot take is that moshang would earnestly do their best to parent but have a lot of baggage that would make it challenging to emotionally connect with children (in addition to 2-3 very time consuming logistical jobs taking up their time.) They're definitely the best parents in SVSSS but the bar is in the Abyss. They love them, but they're not always the best at showing it in a way that they understand.

Oldest son and crown prince Xuejiao (proud, spoiled, inclined to be lazy, prone to crippling migraines that render him indisposed and a bitch) gets along best with Qinghua. Both of them collect palace gossip and like to micromanage; Qinghua gets back into writing and Xuejiao enjoys proofreading while lounging on his father's bed like he owns the place (not the smutty stuff, though, at least he's not supposed to read that.)

He and Mobei Jun have a respectful but distant relationship. I think deep down XJ has some shame that he isn't as proactive about preparing for and fighting for the throne as MBJ, but as a teen he doesn't want to enough to do something about it so he just avoids those feelings by avoiding his father. They're both very aloof and really need a sticky extrovert to bring them out of their shells..

Tiehan by all accounts should get along best with Qinghua because he's the BAAaAaAaAbY and he's small and smiley and very very talkative. But that's all superficial, and underneath that thin layer of cultivated silliness he's as mercenary and brutal as any demon. Mobei Jun is happy to have a child that jumps at the chance to go on hunting trips and put down minor rebellions with him (XJ is NOT leaving his chaise lounge to go OUTSIDE, THANK YOU.) He tramps around in muddy shoes and brings beasts into the palace. Qinghua feels a little guilty that he really can't stand to be around his youngest for more than an hour at a time.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Other than Various influences in the Northern court that initially conspired to try to poison the crown prince as a baby (those influences are no longer present, or living, and have been rendered unto a soup like homogenate) the closest thing either has to a nemesis is probably the head disciple of Bai Zhan Peak that Xuejiao was inflicted on. She's a jock and a bit of a bully but in her defense her new shidi (who she was NOT consulted on the admission of into her cohort) is arrogant, spoiled and completely disregards her authority. And she can't beat his ass too badly because Liu Qingge himself specifically brought him in to train (at Shang Qinghua's prostrated begging request)

It's always the lot of the Bai Zhan seniors to have beef with half demons, it's how things are done.

[sieglinde-freud]

started another file and got two really terrible pairs of siblings. arent they pretty :)

BONUS I MARRIED ONE OF EM I LOVE U FOREVER PINKNIGO 🫶🩷

[dhampiravidi]

make me your villain, Miss Holt...

All Jayn knew was that one moment, she was being fired for pretending to be a man (they didn’t exactly let women work at shipyards), and the next, she had a new job. Well, she knew that her father had used his connections to help her. (She’d hate to see the look on her mother’s face when she came home unemployed and failed.) A noble like him, Ravkan instead of Fjerdan, wanted help cataloging his things before he moved. She’d managed the supplies and salaries at the docks, so he considered her qualified. It was better than the other "help" her father had given her, which was an arranged match with a Matthias Helvar. There was no way Jayn was giving up her life to live in a freezing cold country amongst misogynists. She'd find reasons to put the wedding date off until she had enough footing to properly decline.

So she took a ferry from Kerch, a sandskiff through the mysterious Shadow Fold, and a train into Ravka’s mountains. The people in the eastern part of the world were easily the most superstitious. Those on the train had prayed to their Sankts before the journey had begun, and the Suli people who had agreed to take her to Count Morozova's door had unsuccessfully offered her a number of protective charms before they left.

Jayn told herself that there was nothing to worry about. She'd learned how to fight at the shipyards, with her fists or with whatever was on hand (no pun intended). But even in Novyi Zem, they told cautionary tales about the zowa Ilya, a man who dabbled in forbidden mystical arts to create something out of nothing. He had died a tragic death, and one of his descendants had used the same magic to create the Shadow Fold. It was said that enemies of Ravka were targeted by monsters who lurked within. In reality, Fjerda had only dared approach Ravka from the Fold once during the war decades ago, and it had only resulted in deadly failure.

She approached the doors of the Count's ornate, yet intimidating castle, and knocked on them with a shivering hand. Her luggage sat next to her, almost like an obedient puppy waiting to accompany her inside.

@starlsssankt

[demons-i-get]

WAIT BIG BRAINED THOUGHT:

Sam does smth stupid hoping Dean won't find out.

Someone rats Sam out to Dean.

Sam gets in trouble and a lecture from Dean (bc Dean is a parent and he is Sam's parent I will not accept criticism on this matter).

Later, Sam makes a group chat consisting of everyone who could have told on him to Dean and just sends this video:

[landwriter]

Hob just like love missing scenes?? do tell :)

He’s blond. That’s the first thing Hob notices, when the stranger - not his Stranger, just the lowercase sort, comes and sits down next to him. Thank Christ, he thinks, he couldn’t cope with some raven-haired beauty, not tonight. Maybe not for a few decades. Maybe he oughta move to, to bloody Finland or somewhere.

“Rough night?” asks the stranger. He sounds like a cowboy out of a Hollywood film.

Hob tries to smile and winces instead. “That obvious, am I?”

The man smiles. His teeth are white and perfect. He’s dressed in a cream suit and wearing coal-black sunglasses in the middle of the night, indoors. He’s the most American thing Hob has ever seen.

“Nah,” the lowercase stranger drawls. “I just wanted an excuse to come over. Drink to our troubles?”

Hob blinks. He’d started twelve hours ago with beer, which turned to wine, then whisky, then bitter disappointment and a cab ride here, and now more whisky, except it’s hideously expensive and he’s too deep in his cups to appreciate it. And he still knows he’s being hit on.

“Hob,” he says, and holds out his hand. The stranger takes it, and his grip is firm and cool. He momentarily forgets that he’s supposed to get a name in return. “What are you drinking tonight, mate?”

The stranger smiles again, long and slow this time, and lust slithers into Hob’s gut, settling comfortably atop the mess of misery below. “Well, whatever you’re buying.”

---

all I've done for it so far! but really want to cover Corinthian's accidental use of Hob's "Life is so rich" line - here's my notes for the rest of this:

hob’s reaction, etc- his suspicion, smelling the death, wanting annihilation, knowing something is STRANGE about him. maybe even in earlier section - hob sensing he’s dangerous. poss the Corinthian offers a fake name. poss the name is like, randomly chosen, and a few minutes later hob notices it’s from a drink behind the bar, or on the cocktail menu, Usual Suspects style. immediately sobers up best he can. assessing situation, assuming he is a Dangerous Man, and thinking, perfect. a fuck and maybe a fight. then later, kissing, finding the dagger, and being honestly incredibly turned on, knowing he was right.

I think it could be a super fun and hot drabble and I really wanna jump into Hob's fresh-off-1989 mindset here because it's surely INSANE

[orchideae]

1) Opens up drafts with my head empty, ready to be flooded, not knowing where I'll go. 2) 30 seconds later: Okay but I will go feral any day of my life over Perilous Trail, and the fierce dichotomy of Xiao and Yelan. While they're far from being 'the same', they both view themselves as soldiers in one way or another (it's a very difficult word to use for Yelan, so I'm using it very liberally and very loosely), they have both suffered losses on the 'battlefield' and carry the burden thereof in their own ways. And yet they stand so firmly in opposition throughout the entirety of that questline up until the very end of the 'the end of the line' conclusion of the quest. Yes, I know that she offers him her gratitude in its aftermath and it is genuine, but she still never agrees with him and the decision that he made moments earlier. It simply 'worked out' because of Zhongli's interference, he's the only reason it worked out. And it's because of that, that she doesn't give him a hell of a hard time (obviously she can't go down there, but imagine the inner frustration of severe extents; when you condemn someone who you can't even see anymore). In the same way that she would do to anyone who would sacrifice themselves for others, but in this case, I think it's 'beautiful' that it's to Xiao; the one who seems most adamant to do so (which honestly, fits into the contract that the Yakshas chose to sign with Morax; 'the ultimate sacrifice' to protect for Liyue; 'for Liyue', and Liyue has always centered itself around its people), the one who everyone reveres (and so does she, as she notes in her voiceline, 'if I ever have the honor to fight alongside') and respects for good reason, she stands against him, because in that moment, regardless of his status, he makes a call that she considers wrong. And he doesn't even... fight her on it very fiercely, and that's what actually hurts me the most, it's as if the following line hit the nail directly on the head?

"Besides, if you were really so determined to end it all, you wouldn't have given us the opportunity to share our opinions."

[wool-string]

Idol au where they have to do a physical game show and because Kei and Koto are the weakest and slowest, Kai and Kou team up to get the easy win.

But Kei and Koto get so heated about it and use their ibms to cheat

[softquietsteadylove]

For the Maleficent AU: Thena snuck away on her own to a village to watch the humans. Days after Gil noticed that her behavior is odd so he investigates and then Thena admits that she snuck away and got shot and that the iron bullet is still sticking in her body.

"Dammit!"

Gil frowned as he landed at the lower level of the mothernest interior. When he was checking that everything was okay, he didn't expect to see a figure huddled around the healing pools. It was far later in the day than anyone would usually be here. "Hello?"

The figure startled, and he could recognise those sparkling white wings anywhere. "G-Gil?"

"Thena," he frowned, stepping a little closer on the mossy ground around the pools. He was careful, but he could see the skirt of her dress pooled around her bent legs on the ground, even though she was holding her wings around herself protectively. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I-I'm fine," she smiled, although she was still letting her wings somewhat hide herself from him. "I just...got something on my dress. I thought I would try to use the cold salt water to remove it."

"Right," he murmured, trying to apprise himself of the situation. "The healing pools might not be as good as the shore waters for that."

"Right."

Gil stood a respectful distance away, crossing his arms as Thena made no move to leave the warm salt springs around them either. He sighed, settling his wings comfortably. "What happened, Thena?"

"Nothing," she tried to deny, but her breath was short and choppy, and those long, lithe shoulders of hers weren't moving right.

"Show me," he urged, stepping closer. She remained huddled over herself. "Let me help."

She stayed still for a little longer, her wings rustling against the mossy ground at their feet. "You can't tell anyone."

Gilgamesh wasn't sure how he felt about potentially keeping something that could very mean her being injured to himself, but he agreed. He moved closer, crouching down behind her, with her wings between them. "Please, Thena?"

She sighed, and slowly her shimmering feathers drew away from his view, revealing a splotch of red in the side of her white dress too large to ignore. She really had been trying to clean it.

"When did this happen?" Gil asked immediately, moving closer, ducking his head under her wing as he tried to see if it was still actively bleeding.

"I-" she began and hesitated for another second. "I was flying to the farms."

The farms were quite far inland, and they never went unless it was on a peace convoy with a full guard and protection detail.

"Someone must have seen me, and..." she trailed off, letting him move her hair over her shoulder. She winced as he moved her arm. "They didn't shoot me down but it-it just won't heal."

"Thena," Gil gulped, his hands on her delicate shoulders. Her skin was so soft, and so pale, like her feathers. "Can I, uh--just enough for me to see, okay?"

She had already accepted her defeat, it seemed. She nodded, letting him un-knot the strap of her dress at her shoulder and let the back of it come down around her side. Even her ribs were perfectly sculpted.

Gil frowned, too preoccupied with the iron burn along her side to worry about her state of undress. "Thena, it's still in you?"

"I-" she winced again as she attempted to turn and look at him. "I can't get it out."

"Okay, hey, it's all right," he shushed her, trying to get her breathing even again. He rushed to tie her dress properly again. Even the sight of her back half bare was too much for him. "Here."

Thena nearly whimpered as he helped her onto her feet and towards the caves. "I've been managing it thus far."

"I don't know how," he muttered, not at all pleased by the thought of her walking around with an injury to this degree. He let her lean on him as he walked her away from any prying eyes. "How have your brothers not found out?"

"Druig is with Makkari day and night, it seems," she sighed as the scent of the healing pools' deeper well reached her nose. "Ikaris, all I have to do is stand to his left."

Gil rolled his eyes. Druig was fine, but that other brother of hers...

"Gil," Thena attempted to plead with him, seeing what his intention was. "I don't think-"

"Thena," he frowned, steps away from lowering her into the healing spring himself. "You need to submerge it, and for more than a few minutes."

"I only came because Ikaris is hunting with Kingo," she argued with him, the warmth of the saltwater practically glowing at her from the ground. "I have to get back."

"You need to not walk around with an iron bullet in your ribcage!"

Thena blinked, completely surprised by the even marginal rise in his voice's volume. Her wings trembled on her back faintly, but she didn't wrench herself away from him. She tilted her head, "is that an order?"

He sighed; if she were part of his perimeter detail or guard team, then maybe. But he softened, running his hand down her arm until he could take her hand in his. "No, it's not. It's just something you can do to put my heart at ease."

Thena looked terribly torn. She had her own reasons for trying to keep this injury of hers contained. It was bad for the delegation, it was bad for human-fae relations, and it was bad for their reputation if people thought they could get shot out of the sky while flying.

It was bad if her brothers thought their only family in the world was hurt.

"Do you intend to undress me yourself?"

Gil huffed, turning around as his face became unbearably hot. He even spread his wings out, "very funny."

Thena's laughter was softer, but it echoed around the cave interior. "I am ruffling your feathers, Gil, nothing more. I know you would never."

He blocked out the sound of her light and breezy dress slipping off her body and onto the cave floor. He cleared his throat, "okay, okay, just get in the healing bath."

Thena hissed and then whimpered as she submerged herself properly, something she had probably avoided since she was first injured.

"You okay?" he asked, instinctively wanting to check on her but forbidding himself from even moving his head remotely in her direction.

"I'm fine," she uttered, but it did sound less strained than when she was huddled around the healing pools outside and trying to both bathe her wound and clean her dress at the same time.

"I wouldn't say you're fine," he growled, but tried not to start raging about how serious her injury really was, despite the way she was acting.

"Gil," she chided him before he had even said anything, "they were trying to protect themselves."

He snorted at her defense of the humans. "They can protect themselves with regular arrows. They don't need iron bullets the size of a walnut."

"What's done is done," she concluded, and he could hear the sound of her cupping her hands and letting the water run over herself. "There's no use imagining what could have happened differently."

Gil stayed quiet. He wouldn't win an argument with her about the humans. For how unsocial she was, she really was protective of those stupid walking fleshbags. "How did you fly home?"

"Slowly."

That made him even angrier--the thought of Thena hauling herself home, desperately using the air currents and the size of her wings to bring her injured body back to the nest. How had no one else noticed?!

"No one knows, Gil," she said quietly, going still in the water. "I wasn't intending on telling anyone."

He frowned to himself, letting himself turn his head faintly just to catch the sheer black of his wings in his periphery. He rustled them gently, "That's what bothers me the most."

Thena was quiet again, and he supposed he wouldn't expect her to have an answer to that. He continued to stand guard, although no one used the healing pools when it was late (they were too cold, then). But he was hardly going to let someone stumble upon something they shouldn't.

"I would have told you."

She sounded like a young faerie admitting to something only after the fact. Her contrition made her voice heavy. "I wanted to heal up just a little before I told you--so I could prove it wasn't dire and that there would be no need for action."

Gil made a face just for himself, "you mean so I wouldn't freak out and go track down the human that shot you?"

"You don't know it was a human."

"I don't know any other species that uses stuff like that."

Thena laughed, although it was still a little hollow and breathless. "I suppose you're right. But perhaps if we were as helpless as they are, we would be just as afraid."

Gil was not afraid of any human. Even if he had to take one of those iron monstrosities on for himself. He would face one down happily to look into the eye of the human that had done this to (his) Thena.

"Ah!"

Gil nearly leapt and flapped his wings in reaction to the noise. He still didn't want to look at her in any state of undress, but he stared hard into the opaque wall of his black feathers. "What happened!?"

"It's okay, it's okay," she panted faintly, but her voice was indeed stronger, "it's out. The saltspring is working."

Well, that was a relief. One of the best assets of this particular mothernest - home to so many biomes and nests within it - was its proximity to the healing springs. Ajak valued their medicinal properties greatly, after all.

"You were right," Thena conceded, which he got the feeling didn't happen often. "I should have just come here sooner, saved myself the trouble of secrecy."

"Well, yeah, I was right." She huffed, just loud enough for him to hear. He chuckled, "but I know you didn't want your brothers to freak out. Hard to slip away for too long with both of them around, right?"

"Dreadfully," she sighed much easier this time.

"Tell you what," Gil smiled, maybe a little too relieved now that Thena was actually on her way to better health. "I'll show up at your nest every morning this week to ask you to join me on 'convoys' inland. But you've gotta come down here and soak that wound of yours."

"Gil-"

"It's iron, Thena," he scowled straight ahead at the opening of the cave, "it's not going to be completely healed overnight. And you don't want them to know, so it's this or I bring you the spring water and tell them about it myself."

"Fine."