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thatnamelessbutler · 3 years

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(OoC: So, what's the AU thing about?)

((ooc: Okay so basically I got an idea form a song completely unrelated to the fandom and long story short, Bi n Bu are no longer able to escape from the Egg except through a very specific method, and then Karl comes back along and bippity boppity your body is now our property!

So, yeah. Body-swap AU except Karl kinda dies because to get the swap to work everyone's body had to die. Karl's gets healed afterwards through magical time shenanigans-

So Billiam and Rune(Bu's new name in this AU) wake up in the library, in our current DSMP present, in the weird body of this weird guy who's apparently a weird color-shapeshifter.(yeah, i'm going with the cryptid creature Karl for this one because. it's cool as heck and I never see this anywhere)

a little while after they wake up in the present, karl wakes up after being dormant because he literally died and it's like "HEY WAIT WHAT THE HECK YOU STOLE MY BODY" and everyone else goes "shit shit shit shit"

p.s if you're wondering where hubert is he's dead. the egg killed nearly everyone except billiam and butler because bi is its main caretaker and bu will never leave his side

(more under the cut please there's so much and i actually love this au so much)

Now I'm not a system but I imagine these four(yes, four; Billiam, Rune, Piam(Billiam's Piglin side), and Tune(Bu's Other) operate kind of like one. They have an innerworld and everything, they aren't just all constantly crammed into the front. That would get confusing, stressful and difficult to manage overall. Bu's usually the one fronting because no one else wants to; Billiam doesn't wanna do it because he doesn't wanna mingle with the "poor", Tune doesn't wanna do it because it always gets tripped up with literally everything about the body, it's not even dangerous enough to protect now, and Piam doesn't wanna do it because he's kind of scared of the Overworld someone that doesn't know how to be a Human Person

Oh yeah and I've also talked about all this and more with my bestie so here's a copy-paste of that conversation-

I think an encounter with Sapnap and/or Quackity would go terribly too, until they sit down and explain things as best they can wait no actually "So basically, we killed your fiancée so we could inhabit his body and escape from a really bad situation. sorry" Acid Sapanap would go feral and I can't even begin to conceive what extremely destructive thoughts Quackoty would start having Me MHM Sapnap probably pulls a sword on them and they automatically reach for their own before remembering "Oh shit, we don't have it. OH SHIT-" and then they just gotta r u n Butler's trying desperately to teleport but without a pearl, eeeeeh that's not gonna do anything buddy I'm not sure if Karl has armor in his inventory or not but either way they wouldn't have the time or coordination to equip it Acid they just immediately die it'd be so funny Me "NOT AGAIN, WE JUST GOT FREE- death" Now lets hope either Karl has some extra canon lives, or those lives Billiam bought carry over Acid PFFFFT, BILLIAM'S LIVES GET CARRIED WITH THEM AND IT'S JUST revives ok listen we don't gotta dies revives please let's just dies revives why do you do t dies revives this is just gonna last forever isn't it? dies rev- Me wheeze YEAH "GET OUT OF KARL'S BODY!" "We can't!! It's already been done!! dies" "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!!?" "We are!!??" ohhh, bonus angst points if every time they die, Butler goes a little more dormant- Butler was only meant to have one life, he never got any Totems and his soul cannot take this in the way Billiam's can After about 15 deaths, Billiam gets Sapnap to stop for about five seconds, and in those five seconds he realizes that he can no longer hear or feel Butler Acid oh god Me If he manages to get far enough away and find someplace to hide(perhaps the library again), he dips into the headspace and finds Butler just gone. He looks around for a while and finds them far away from where they were, collapsed on the ground, flickering slightly, and entirely unresponsive. And no matter how much he tries, they just won't wake up, and their Ender half has disappeared completely. He can't do anything except wait for them. Acid fjsjdj oh my god imagine Billiam just goes feral after that he's like "what did you do to m y B u t l e r" and just jumps on Sapnap with his bare hands Me Oh absolutely, he will Murder Sapnap without a second thought and he doesn't care how many deaths he has to go through to do it even though dying more will make it take longer for butler to wake up, and then afterwards he'll be pacing around random areas stress-stimming intensely and waiting for his child to wake up Acid yeap Me Somehow he finds his way to Kinoko Kingdom and is like "oh, this looks like a good place for a walk" and then spends the entire time not actually looking at anything and drowned in anxiety

AND THEN THESE WERE LAST NIGHT'S THOUGHTS, SOMEHOW LATER ON THEY END UP AT SAPNAP'S PLACE CAUSE THEY TECHNICALLY DON'T HAVE A PLACE TO STAY Unless you count the library but I don't think that would be very comfortable-

Anyway, Rune was fronting when they fell asleep and then their chronic nightmares came back. Sapnap wakes up(or was he ever really sleeping?) to some almost animalistic gasping in the other room and runs in to find Karl Karl's body curled on the bed, barely humanoid and random flashes of color spiking over him in waves and clawlike hands digging into his head

So he tries to wake him up, and when he does Bu's first reaction is to scramble away in pure terror because he's not fully out of the nightmare yet, there are even tears running down his face that just get absorbed back into the mass of color. Sapnap tries to calm him down, and eventually succeeds enough to ask him what the hell happened, and who's fronting once he remembers that that is a thing-

Thing is, Bu's gone nonverbal, but hey at least Karl was some sort of shapeshifter so they can just shift blobs of color into the air to answer Sapnap's questions

He very quickly learns only to ask yes/no ones because he can't read Galactic which is the only thing Bu can respond in, but that whole night ends on a pretty good note :3

Acid IS KARL IN THE SYSTEM CANON? HE'D BE THE MAIN FRONTER IF IT IS I THINK Me After that nightmare Rune finds himself trusting Sapnap a little more but also not as able to front, he's just so tired of it. No one else wants to front, he always has to stay there and he never gets a break. At least before, Tune had control during the night and he got to rest some. Now his sleep schedule is just as abhorred as before and no one else even comes near the front. He tries as long as he can, for everyone else's sake, but after weeks of fronting alone he just can't anymore. So he finally leaves the front and just collapses face-first into idk a patch of grass in the innerworld or something, and he's so exhausted of being a person that he can't even think straight, He doesn't want consolation, he doesn't want promises, he doesn't even want cuddles he just wants someone else to take over for a bit. Me OOH MAYBE He wakes up and wanders around the innerworld figuring out what the heck is going on and wondering why he can't see the outside anymore and oh god is he dead, are they all dead maybe they're all dead and none of them know it, and then Rune comes out of front and practically begs to not have to be a person anymore, he tells Karl "please i just want a break, just go out there or get someone else to go out there for a while please" and, well, Karl takes a chance and goes out to front and holy shit is this the real world, holy shit are those his fiancées, holy s h i t Acid THAT'S THE BESR OUTCOME ACTUALLY Me YESSSSSSSSS MASQUERADE SYSTEM + KARL THE MAN HIMSELF JACOBS Acid YESSS Me Karl and Rune are now host and co-host, because. no one else wants to front Acid Karl tricking Billiam into fronting.mp4 Me GSHDFGBSGDHFBSF Rune and Karl lock him into front and Rune proceeds to lean against the nearest flat surface, slide down and then dissociate for the next couple/several hours Karl makes sure no one disturbs him, even if Tune and Piam are Very Worried about their exhausted Human hybrid Acid them taking care of Rune (affectionate)

Acid OK WAIT I WAS THINKING AND IN SYSTEMS PEOPLE USUALLY MANIFEST SO I WAS THINKING HOW THAT'D WORK IN THE MASQUERADE SYS AND I REALIZED THAT EVERYONE IN THERE IS TECHNICALLY DEAD IN A WAY WHAT IF THAT'S THIS AU'S LIMBO? ONE DAY WILBUR POPS UP AND COMMITS MULTIPLE CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY Me HOLY SHIT OH SHIT EVERYONE THAT PERMA-DIES JUST ENDS UP AS AN ALTER IN KARL'S WEIRD COLOR-SHAPESHIFTING BODY XDDD You can always tell who's fronting by the colors, as long as you actually know them enough to know their colors- Acid Wilbur: hello Quackity, I am BAC- Karl: oh my GOD Wilbur shut the FUCK UP we understand it you're gay now please get out of front I have a date in 10 minutes Acid OOOOO YES Me Like Rune is purple/pink(mainly pink) gray-red/dark purple/orange/green eyes(right/right/left/left, respectively), and then he has some other colors sifting through, like a dark indigo-blue and a yellow the color of Endstone Tune is all of that but some of it is darker(the pinks/purples and Endstone color), some of it's the same(the eyes, except they have a light pink shine over them) and some of it is inverted. Clouds will waft around the body when it's fronting and whenever you look through the clouds you'll see the colors inverted Billiam is solidly pale pink except for his eyes(maroon) and his hands and feet(gold, with veins streaking out and tapering off at about the elbow) Piam is a slightly redder pink, with spots of a Netherrack color here and there, and his gold is more orangey, like there's fire reflecting off of it karl is just. karl. Of course he's got the signature swirls in bright violent and teal but other than that he's just a smorgasbord of color, usually bright and neon. When he's near/thinking about Sapnap and/or Quackity, little hearts start popping off him

#Relyn Records #infodump #ask to tag #i don't know if there are any systems following me but if i got anything wrong please tell me i do not want to slander your name-#anyway i may have accidentally made them a system found-family

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phykios · 3 years

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Ain’t No Sunshine, modern royalty, 1970s au [read on ao3] thank you as always to my darling @darkmagyk for taking a true story off the rails

May 3rd, 1979. The date seemed to jump off the page, the loud, bold text almost mocking her.

Not that she was keeping track, but it was just about four years to the day.

She’d woken up this morning, feeling kind of off, wandering around her apartment in a daze as she hustled her children out the door for daycare, losing time on her bus commute to work. It wasn’t until lunch, as she took the time to go through her day planner, that she realized: four years ago was when she had last seen Percy Jackson.

Though why Annabeth was thinking about him right this second was anyone’s guess.

Oh, sure, she’d thought about him a lot all throughout her pregnancy--thought about him, cursed his name, dreamed of strangling him for leaving her alone with these two absolute terrors--but as the years had gone by, and she had lost all hope of ever making contact with him again, he’d sort of fallen by the wayside of her thoughts. Something must have been going on with the navy mail system, because absolutely none of the letters or postcards she’d sent had ever been received, and she couldn’t reach out to Sally, since Annabeth had lost her address as well.

There was always the possibility that he… well, that he wasn’t around to receive letters anymore. But she tried not to think about it.

She tried her best not to think about him at all, these days.

Today, however, her childhood best friend turned US navy midshipman had popped up on her internal radar, and had just decided to take up residence in her brain. Her normally mind-numbing job couldn’t even properly distract her, and she spent all afternoon daydreaming about his messy, perpetually windswept hair, and his toothy, contagious smile, and his gorgeous green eyes like she was some kind of pathetic, lovestruck teenager, obsessing over her rockstar crush. Taking calls, scheduling appointments, and dodging the creepy advances of the assistant CFO were slightly more palatable if she had something pleasant to think about.

Old-fashioned romance was for suckers, anyway. Who needed it?

At least it was Friday. Fridays were KFC days, and she really did not need to accidentally burn dinner today. Again.

She hated it, but her kids loved it. God knows they could barely stomach whatever she usually attempted.

She sent them to bed early-ish, and settled down in front of the TV with a glass of wine. She didn’t usually indulge, but she had had such a weird day, she felt she deserved it.

Taking a long, long sip, she could no longer deny it: she really fucking missed Percy.

She missed him like she’d miss a missing limb, and it was all the more cruel because she’d lost him once, and miraculously found him again, on that fateful trip home from Athens. A military brat stuck at the American naval base in Spain to save money, waiting for a spare seat to open up on a plane so she could go home, by the sheer force of luck, she’d practically tripped and fallen into the lap of her childhood best friend.

And then she did trip into his lap. And then into his bed. And stupid, stupid, Annabeth, she’d always been so bad with her birth control.

Her little boy, he had blond hair, but sometimes he would look at her, or laugh at something, or drool in his sleep just like his daddy, and Annabeth thought she might just fucking die from it.

She loved her children, of course, how could she not? But she wasn’t about to deny it--sometimes, alone in parenthood, juggling dishes and laundry and schoolwork and life, she felt like she was drowning.

Sharp, piercing, the doorbell rang, knocking her out of her reverie. A little tipsy, still in her rumpled work clothes, she set the glass aside, and made her way to the door. “Mr. D,” she said, opening it, prepared speech all ready to go, “I told you, I’d have the rent for you by--”

She stopped, blinking, speechless. It was not Mr. D.

“Hey,” said the man outside her door. The ghost from another world that she had, apparently, conjured with her thoughts.

“...Hey.”

He smiled, a little strained, the light of the streetlamps casting harsh shadows on his face. “It’s good to see you.”

“How did you know where I lived?” It was, perhaps, not the most elegant thing to say, but she hadn’t exactly planned for what would happen when Percy Jackson, love of her life, father of her children, long-lost best friend wandered back into her life.

“Can I come in? Maybe for a Coke or something?” he asked, not answering her question.

She almost wanted to say no. For every letter never returned, for every month gone by without a word, for every day spent raising their children without him, not knowing if he was alive or dead--she almost said no.

But this was Percy. She could spare him a Coca Cola at least. “Sure,” she said, leaning away, “come on.”

“Great,” he said, and this time, his smile was all real.

So focused had she been on him, she hadn’t even clocked the older man who stood behind him. “Sir,” said the other man, with the air of a beleaguered secretary--and Annabeth would know, “I really must advise--”

“I’ll just be a minute,” said Percy, not even bothering to look back at him, pushing past Annabeth’s half-extended arm.

“But, sir, your father--”

Percy let the door shut in his face.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Harsh.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well… I’ll make it up to him later.”

“Who is he?”

But Percy didn’t answer. “Nice place you got here.”

He was being nice, of course. It was a craphole apartment in a craphole side of town--but the rent was cheap and the bus was convenient, and she only felt the slightest bit of shame as she led him to the craphole couch, handing him a coke from her craphole fridge. Christ, his suit looked like it cost more than her TV.

“Is your… husband home?” he asked, delicate.

“My what?”

“Your husband. I saw, um…” Embarrassed, he flicked his eyes to the ring on her left hand.

“Oh, this? It’s--it’s not--” Hastily, clumsily, she fumbles it off, pulling around the knuckle. “I’m not--I’m not.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I just--it’s to ward off creepy guys, right? Like, they won’t take no for an answer unless they think they’ll have to deal with an angry husband, so I just…”

In her more pathetic moments, she pretended that it had been given to her by the man before her. She had picked something small and simple, something that she thought he might have gone with, and pretended he had slipped it into her pocket the day she left the naval base.

“That’s--cool. That’s great, I mean. I mean, that’s--”

“What do you want, Percy?”

Not at all bothered by the shortness of her tone, he sighed, closing his eyes. “I have a… personal question I need to ask you. And I’m sorry to bother you with this, I just--I have to ask.”

Ominous. “Okay?”

“Did we…” He sighed again, mouth twisting. “Did you, as a result of our repeated sexual encounters four years ago, happen to have any children by me?”

He just rattled it off, as if it was something he’d said over and over and over again, tired of receiving the same answer, but never expecting anything different.

“Excuse me?”

“I know, I know, it’s an extremely rude question, and I know I have no right to ask you, especially since it’s been so long, but I swear, there’s a reason I--”

“Did you never get any of the letters I sent you?”

At that, his head shot up. The look in his eyes could only be described as ‘terror.’ “What?”

“I must have sent you half a dozen,” she said, crossing to the kitchen, the wine making her a little bit short. She had, in fact, sent him eight letters, with pictures, and never received a single response, but since he seemed genuinely lost, she decided not to tell him. Plucking the most recent photo down from the fridge, she returned to the man in her living room, his knuckles white around the can.

Standing before him, she handed him the photograph. He took it, fingers shaking. “We… you…”

“Percy Jackson,” she said, like she was introducing him to someone at a party, “meet your children.”

Even after they had just been born, Annabeth had seen how obviously they were his. Only their daughter had the same messy black hair, both both had the same long, straight nose, the same intense, brooding brow as their father--and when her son smiled, or her daughter laughed, it was hard not to see the shades of Percy so strongly in them. It was hard to see them, too.

Percy’s mouth was trembling. His eyes were wide, glassy, fixed on the photo. “My--” he swallowed. “What--what are their names?”

“Alexander,” she said, softly, “and Anne--”

“Annemarie,” he breathed. “Alexander and Annemarie.” He looked up at her, his eyes shining. “You remembered?”

Of course she remembered. Two lonely kids, she and Percy had spent so much of their childhood together, playing house, building their perfect family, even if only in their imagination. Alexander for his mother’s cousin, and Annemarie because he had wanted to name their daughter Annabeth, and she wouldn’t let him. Twenty years later, alone and in pain, holding her newborn children and alternately cursing the man who made them and desperately wishing he were with her, Annabeth had known that they could only have one set of names, even if their father might never meet them.

His face crumpled. He dropped his head into his hand, and groaned, like someone had pressed on an open wound.

“Percy!” Annabeth sat down next to him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his leg. Four years later and it still felt so natural to touch him like this. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, he grunted. “Yeah,” he croaked, voice hoarse, “I’m okay. I’m fine. I just--” And then he shuddered, a hand coming up to scrub at his eyes.

He was crying, she realized suddenly. Annabeth used to be the one that cried. She could count on one hand how many times she’d seen him cry. He hadn’t even cried when she had finally left the naval base.

Taking a shaking breath, he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his expensive suit. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, shattered. “I didn’t--I never--if I had known, I swear, I would have left the navy. I would have come home.”

The silent, unspoken “to you” echoed in the dead air of her apartment. “Why didn’t you?” she asked, quietly.

They held each other’s eyes, an eternity passing in a heartbeat. Neither wanted to break the sacred silence, to bring words into the crystalline moment that hung in the balance between them.

“I never got your letters,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I… after you--left, I…” he sighed, aching. “I… got hurt. Bad.”

Annabeth couldn’t breathe.

“And,” he huffed a laugh, wet and messy, “and then I met my father. Can you believe it?”

Her eyes bugged out of her head. “You what?”

He nodded.

“He’s alive?”

Sally rarely spoke of him, and Percy had always refused to. Annabeth had just assumed he had died, years and years and years ago.

Percy laughed again, humorless. “He’s the king of Thera.”

Her jaw dropped. “He…”

“Yeah.”

“Are you shitting me?”

Shaking his head, he smiled, rueful. “I wish.”

Words from a half-remembered newscast floated through her mind. Alexander and Annemarie had been right terrors that night, and she had only been half-listening as the reporter informed the world that Triton, hereditary prince of Thera, had died, killed in military action. “He… found you?”

Percy nodded, miserable. “He told me--asked--told me to--to find anyone I might have…” And then he swallowed, tears in his eyes again, real, glistening tears. “And I am so, so sorry, I know--I know your job is here, and your whole life, and the children, but I--”

She took his hand in hers, squeezing gently so he didn’t fly away. “It’s okay,” she said. “Just say it.”

“I’m supposed to--I’m supposed to… if you would… come with me,” he trailed off, suddenly shy.

For the second time tonight, she felt like she’d been hit with a sledgehammer. “...What?”

“He… my father… the king wants--needs heirs. He… he asked for a list of women, and I… gave him your name.” Stomach hot, Annabeth wished she had the courage to know about the other women on that list. Or to ask why Percy, young and handsome as he’d been at both twelve and twenty, wasn’t out there making some new ones himself. Why was he chasing down old leads? Why was he chasing down Chase bastards? “You’d--you’d live in the castle,” he said, like he was trying to sell her on it, though she could tell his heart wasn’t really in it, “and we, well, we’d technically have to get married, but that doesn’t need to be a big deal. You’d get your own rooms. You can set them up however you want. And you’d have a personal staff, a stipend, and the kids would get private teachers, and--”

“Staff?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Yes?”

Staff. Someone to do the laundry and clean the dishes. Someone to cook dinner and look after the house. Someone to help. Someone to do all the parental things that she just could not do, not by herself. Not without him.

“I know I have no right to ask this of you,” he said, squeezing her hand. His hand was just as big as she remembered, and just as warm. “And I would never, ever force you to do anything that you wouldn’t want to--”

“Yes,” she said, interrupting him.

He blinked, dumbly. “What?”

“Yes. I’ll come with you. We all will.”

“...Oh. Uh, great. That’s--that’s good. Are you sure?” He looked like a lost little dolphin, eyes huge and uncertain, and then, Annabeth did the one thing that she’d been desperately wanting to do for the last four years.

She pulled his face to hers, and she kissed him. Shocked, he stiffened, almost pulling away--before relaxing into her, cupping her face in his big, warm hand. Eyes closed, they leaned their heads against each other, sharing air once more for the first time in years. She had lost him twice already: once as a child, when her father had decided to move her across the country, and once as a lovestruck college girl, when she had to leave the naval base, four years ago. She wasn’t about to lose him for a third time.

And for the first time in forever, she no longer felt like she was drowning.

#my fic #pjo fic #pjo #percabeth #percabeth fic #au #the rivalry ends here #the au which we have affectionately named 'chop chop'#for... reasons...#darkmagyk #perseannabeth

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anzcty · 3 years

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Analysing Episode 6 Sylvie - her actions, her choice and a whole bunch of theories (Spoilers!)

After watching the Loki finale, I have been scrolling through Tumblr for quite a long time. I already knew that people's opinions were gonna be incredibly different but I definitely did not expect this much negative backlash. Especially when it comes to two specific topics - the Sylvie and Loki kiss and Sylvie's betrayal (/choice/actions). I'm gonna be talking about the latter, for it is another time I'll talk a lot about Sylki's relationship. (Beware that this post is also really long though)

First of all, everyone has different opinions and I respect that. I absolutely adore movies, books, TV-shows and videogames because despite what's happening within the story, each viewer has the opportunity to see something else in what they are shown (besides the obvious canon). What I mean is that everyone interprets certain scenes differently and gains the opportunity to make up theories. Therefore I want to clarify that I do, by no means, want to force my views upon others. It's nice to see people talk about the Loki Series (as long as it doesn't get too negative and hateful, iykwim) because every viewer can share their specific experiences with it :)

I'm gonna analyse Sylvie's character a bit ( because, well, I'm bored and I kinda wanna protect my beloved character that I've only had for a few weeks >:^0 AND the only thing I could think about the past day was this episode) and try to explain her actions in the finale (keep in mind: not justifying them, but explaining them).

I'm terribly bad at concentrating on one single topic point so I kinda made a 'list' with questions and whatnot that I wanted to dive deeper into. Your thoughts are also more than welcome!

I already want to apologise for grammatical mistakes, for I am not a native english speaker.

Sylvie's reason for being taken away by the TVA is still kinda unknown

You know, I've heard quite a few theories about Sylvie's nexus event by now. Some people say that she got taken away because she was playing with her toys in a way that indicates her having a good heart (playing as a Valkyrie and wanting to save someone, another hint may also be the reaction she showed towards someone else who got kidnapped by the TVA, yelling at the soldiers to "help them out"). Another theory is that she already knew she was adopted, unlike Loki who found out way later than her. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but we never got to hear the actual reason why Sylvie got kidnapped. Even Renslayer didn't say a word about it.

Now I'm gonna come up with yet another theory. What if Sylvie didn't really have a nexus event in the first place how we know it? In the final episode, Kang has said that he has planned out everything beforehand so both Loki and Sylvie would end up right in front of him. Did Kang's plan also possibly involve him getting killed by Sylvie? Hear me out: We don't actually know if the Kang we saw in episode 6 is the actual 'nice' Kang and not one of his evil variants. He has already talked about 'reincarnation', so who says that after ending the first universial war, Kang didn't reincarnate into someone with an unpure heart (aka, one of his evil variants)? That'd mean that the real Kang would have been killed and the Kang we've seen in the finale is actually an evil version that simply lied to both Loki and Sylvie. Besides that, we also don't know if Kang actually had that 'point' where he didn't know what would happen next. The show revolves a whole lot around trust, not only regarding the characters, but also the viewers. Who's to say that Kang said the truth? Maybe he planned it all out: He created the TVA, let Sylvie get kidnapped and therefore give her a reason to hunt after Kang, who in return could reincarnate if he got killed OR get killed and therefore give his other variants a possibility to conquer the universes yet again. Don't you think that it was kinda suspicious that Sylvie escaped so easily out of Renslayer's hands? The one person who's probably closest to Kang? (Even though, yes, she doesn't know who he is but Renslayer seems to play a very important role in his plan). What if the Kang we saw was the nice Kang though? Would he plan everything up to a point where another universial war would break out because he might know that there is indeed something/someone out there who could end it and therefore, possibly end Kang as a whole or create a new kind of system revolving around the universe? And therefore, get rid of the possibility of another universial war happening? Who knows. I am definitely overthinking and reaching at this point. One more thing that stood out to me while thinking about the episode again today (which kinda weighs more into my theory of Sylvie being a keypoint (or rather a puppet) in this plan): Kang has talked about his Tempad and that he knew that he would need it to have enough energy. But for what? Yes, his initial idea was to give it to Loki and Sylvie to rule over the TVA, but what if it was supposed to be used for another reason? Sylvie used it to transport Loki back to the TVA (though I kinda think he was accidentally transported to another timeline, hence the reactions of both Mobius and Hunter B-15) and therefore get rid of the only thing that could prevent Sylvie from killing Kang. The Tempad was used to secure Sylvie's path and therefore eradicated Kang's only option of safety. You can see the Tempad loosing it's glow after Kang was killed, possibly due to Kang himself being the origin of it's energy. But maybe, it only had enough energy for one specific action: getting rid of Kang's protection. I do think that Sylvie is now stuck at this place and somehow has to find a way back to Loki's reality. The Tempad clearly doesn't work anymore (at least in my opinion) and there was quite a long shot showing the Tempad up close, which is kinda suspicious tbh. Also, something regarding Sylvie's unanswered nexus event feels kinda odd to me, too.

My theory in conclusion: Sylvie (and Loki) are unconciously helping Kang with his plan (a big, big, BIG plan). They're his puppets, especially Sylvie, because she's the one who created the Multiverse to begin with. Think about Loki, who was said to be manipulated by Thanos in Avengers? It's basically the same train of thoughts.

Sylvie does not take Kang's offer into consideration

To be honest, this was something to be absolutely expected of her. Sylvie was kidnapped as a child, taken away from her home and family, and had to grow up in countless apocalypses where she could never form a real bond with anybody because she knew that those people were all going to die anyway. (Please don't judge me if I got that wrong, maybe I understood the next thing wrong? Idk, if so, I'm very sorry) She revealed that she was kidnapped way before Loki was even born (something I have to think about, too, because, if Loki is the actual Loki the other variants are based off, why did he exist after Sylvie? Wouldn't that make him a variant of Sylvie instead? Idk timelines and parallel universes are hard to understand for me :') I'm kinda stoopid ), therefore she must've had spent several decades of her life running away. She had no life at all. Her only goal was to bring down the TVA and whoever is behind it, driven by pure rage, seeking out revenge for stealing her life and basically forbidding her existence. And now that she has found said person, the only thing that'd be right for her character would be to go for the kill. As immoral as it may sound, it is the only thing that makes sense. And I am actually very happy that Sylvie's goals didn't change besides the fact that she did indeed soften up a little and has gotten someone really close to her. In contrary, it makes sense for Loki to do the exact opposite. His goals have changed. He does not act the way he did in Thor or Avengers anymore. He has found another goal for himself: to make Sylvie feel alright. He has had immense character growth and didn't take a chance to change his goals back in the Thor movies or in Avengers, (....maybe later in Thor: Ragnarok, kinda). This is exactly what I think might happen to Sylvie, too. She is at the beginning of her character arc. She doesn't take the chance to change her goal, but goes for her original goal instead. Said goal does not really have positive consequences (though, maybe it might have some? We're about to find out), which results in a so called 'negative character development', which Loki has already gone through. I think that Sylvie is gonna grow as a character in season 2 and get a positive character development in addition, just like Loki did. I highly doubt that she's gonna become the antagonist, it does not make sense at this point.

Why does she not take Kang's offer (besides her very obvious intention ofc)? That leads straight (or not so straight, pun intended) to the next thing I wanna talk about. Sylvie's distrust in everything and everyone. Besides not wanting to let other people go through what she has been gone through and wanting to let people have a free will, she also does not trust Kang with his offer of 'ruling' the timeline. And it might be because she also does not trust the one she'd be ruling with: Loki.

Why does Sylvie not trust Loki?

I don't even have a specific answer to that, except that Sylvie has an incredibly thick wall built up around her. Loki has always been portrayed as the one you should not trust because he's known for backstabbing people. Loki could have thought the same about Sylvie, but he didn't. Due to his character arc, he himself has learned to trust other people and tries to redeem himself with making himself a person others can trust (He may project that onto Sylvie, meaning that he puts his trust into a Loki variant and therefore in himself, too). You can connect that fact with both Sylvie and Mobius. They're both people who are incredibly important to Loki. He wants them to trust him. He openly told Sylvie about his mistakes and tells her that he's not that person anymore. Sylvie on the other hand does not trust that easily and is - in my opinion - a very important key regarding Loki's character development. It is incredibly hard for Sylvie to trust others (probably due to her trauma) and it therefore creates a very difficult situation for Loki, where he has to 'prove' himself as trustworthy. It's basically about 'trusting yourself' if you put it that way. It's something Loki has to learn about himself: not betraying the trust of others. Sylvie might have to learn something like this, too: learning to trust someone else. It's kinda like a two sided coin - one side is about putting trust in others, whereas the other is about gaining trust from others (and what you do with it). (Good) Relationships in general are always based off trust and honesty. So in order for them to be able to have healthy relationships with others and themselves, they have to learn about trust within themselves (I hope you understand my point, I got carried away, sorry). Loki started to trust Sylvie very easily (maybe because of love? Maybe because of something else? There are still a lot of unanswered questions) whereas Sylvie doesn't trust Loki very easily. Sylvie's character arc might (hopefully) carry on with this topic in the next season.

Was that kiss initiated due to emotional or practical reasons?

Kinda both, somehow. I do think that Sylvie used the kiss to her advantage but you can also clearly see how moved she is while hearing Loki's words. Facial expressions are insanely important when it comes to acting and both Tom and Sophia delivered perfectly. You might've already heard of the quote "The eyes tell more than words could ever say". Look at Sylvie's face when Loki tells her that he wants her to be okay. She is teary eyed, sighs even. She is indeed touched by his words and I strongly think that Sylvie also has non-platonic feelings for Loki, despite barely showing anything.

Here's a snippet out of an interview with Sophia:

(Source)

Both Sylvie and Loki are said to be people who can not trust others. They both have a vulnerable side though. Loki clearly showed that several times when with Sylvie (singing to her, the blanket scene, the comfort scene in the room of the timekeepers, the confession of wanting her to be okay) and is also shown incredibly vulnerable at the end of episode 6: there are several shots showing him, crying. Sure, we have already seen Loki cry a few times beforehand but this time, it's different. He cries because the one person he is the most vulnerable with doesn't trust him, and that does hurt like hell. By the way, if you look at the close-up shot of Sylvie after she yeeted Loki back into the TVA, you can see pain in her eyes, too. But that pain quickly shifts into rage and determination. Something that I have to admit was incredibly well executed by Sophia and the people who directed this shot. Sylvie does show her vulnerable side for a brief moment before putting up her walls again and reaching for her goal.

In conclusion: I think Sylvie initiated the kiss as an emotional response to Loki's words but also used it to distract him to be able to kick him back into the TVA at the same time. Keep in mind that it was because he was in her way of fullfilling her goal. She didn't want to kill or hurt him, so she sent him away instead. So, yes, I think the kiss had both emotional and practical intentions.

Did Sylvie betray Loki?

Even though it really felt like she betrayed him, she didn't. Let me tell you why:

Loki knew exactly what Sylvie was gonna do after reaching the person behind the TVA. Loki supported her all the way up until Kang suggested a deal to them, that's where Loki's and Sylvie's paths divided. Loki is a very smart character, he outsmarts a lot of Marvel characters and therefore I think it's very in character for him to consider one part of the deal and outweigh the pros and cons. Not because he wants the throne, no, but because he wants Sylvie to be okay. A universial war could lead to countless casualties - possibly those people close around him, so of course he would want to keep her safe through that decision. Making them both rulers over the TVA and the sacred timeline would probably guarantee a strong protection from several threats. Also, maybe he thought about the possibility of Sylvie regretting her decision (which she clearly did in the end) and wanted to protect her from even more emotional pain. But as we know, Sylvie's intention has always been laid out in front of her and it didn't change. Loki knew what choice she was going to make and merely tried to change her way - without being successfull.

I don't really know what to think about this scene though. To me, it doesn't meet the requirements of a 'betrayal' but at the same time it does feel like one. It's very difficult to explain :'D

Also, I've seen some people asking themselves how or if Loki will ever be able to forgive Sylvie for making her decision. Let me assure you one thing: he will forgive her. He has said it himself: "I know what you're feeling, I know what you're going through". He has been at Sylvie's point, too. Not only once, but several times already. He seems to have learned from his mistakes, Sylvie has yet to do so. ("I betrayed everyone I've ever loved" is a line to keep in mind now, too. Maybe it could even be projected onto Sylvie this time, because Loki is indeed very dear to her) If there's someone out there who can empathise with Sylvie the most, it is Loki.

Why would Sylvie straight up cause another Universial War?

As I already said. Sylvie's arc is a negative character arc. It does not end well and causes a lot of chaos. Think about Peter Quill in Infinity War and his rage moment on Titan. They could have had the infinity gauntlet way before but Peter got emotional (understandable) and therefore destroyed the chance of an early good ending. The same happened with Sylvie. Her decision was mostly emotional, but also practical on the other hand (giving people free will and freedom). She will face the consequences and I'm pretty sure she's gonna redeem herself and tries to help fix the big mess she has caused.

Sylvie's breakdown

Another scene that was absolutely brilliant was the scene after Sylvie has killed Kang. She backs off slowly and then slumps to the ground, breathing heavily (now that I think about it, I think she even started to cry). She has waited for this moment her whole life, but now that it's done, it kinda feels like she didn't exactly get what she needed. Hunter B-15 has already mentioned it before that Sylvie needs to hunt the person behind the TVA down, unlike Renslayer, who only wants to find out who it really is. Although Sylvie might have recognized that this wasn't everything she needed at this point. We already got to know that she didn't have a clue what to do after she's done with the TVA. She didn't have a goal beyond that. And now that she has reached the point where she is clueless, she might have recognized what she really needed beyond finishing her goal: friends, a life, literally anything that doesn't make her feel alone. And she literally just kicked that one thing away from her. Loki, the one person who has been closest to her and gave her the feeling of not being alone anymore, the feeling of having a friend (or someone more than a friend), has been pushed away by herself. I think that in this exact moment where she sinks to the ground she recognizes that not trusting Loki was a mistake this time and that revenge isn't enough to satisfy her forever.

But maybe that one thing that will satisfy her for a long time is something she's returning back to in season 2. I am so excited to see her again and find out more about Sylvie's character!

Thank you so much for reading this! If you want to add something to this list or correct something or anything, feel free to do so. I'd love to hear your thoughts on Sylvie's character in the finale and what you think might happen with her in season 2 :) see y'all, stay safe and have a nice day/night!

#sylvie laufeydottir #loki series #sylki

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smmahamazing · 3 years

Photo

It’s finally here! Inuparents Day 2021!!!

Today is the day for us to celebrate the ship that brought us our precious dog boy! Keep an eye out for some extra special soft art to go with the fic, commissioned from the fabulous and talented @heavenin--hell !!!

Will also shortly be available on FFN and AO3. Check out the Inuparents 2021 Collection or the Inuparents 2021 Tumblr for lots of amazing fics and art!

SUMMARY: Toga’s been having a rough day,and who else could make it all better than his mate and pup?

The hallway was silent save for the clacking of heeled boots. They echoed off the windows, muffled only slightly by the tapestries that hung along the walls. The servants knew better than to be found in the path of the angered general; by now, they had a foolproof system that warned anyone in the area to steer clear. Not that many servants could be found in this area of the castle. Toga only trusted a handful of servants to work in the areas around his mates abode.

Toga balled his fisted hands even tighter, tiny droplets of blood dotting the floor as he pressed on. He was close to losing his control, and all he wanted was to bask in the warmth and love of his mate and pup.

Once again, he was forced to listen to the vitriol from another courtier about how Toga was "defiling the very nature of our people" by taking a human mate and siring a "half breed". Toga wasn't sure how many courtiers he had to threaten to get them to back off, but so far the number was rising with no end in sight.

Toga let out a deep, throaty growl at the thought of their hatred towards his mate and pup. Did they forget who he was? Toga was Lord of the Western lands, the great dog demon general. He had the power to slay a hundred demons in one fell swoop. He held life and death in each of his hands. Who were they to condemn him for his choice of mate?

It wasn't as if mating with Izayoi had been much of a choice for him anyway. Toga had known the moment he had laid eyes on Izayoi that they were meant for each other. She smelled like a field of flowers basking in the sun on a warm spring day, and it called to the youkai in him. When he was angry or upset, only her soothing touch could calm him. She always knew the right things to say, or even when she didn't need to say anything at all. She was beautiful and graceful - learnt from being born a princess - yet determined and outspoken in ways a princess should never be. She was a woman unlike Toga had ever seen, and she was irrevocably his.

'When did this hallway become so long?' Toga was growing more and more impatient with how long it was taking him to reach her, and began sprinting the rest of the way down the hall. He finally made it to the door at the end of the hallway to enter a small courtyard. It was smaller than the courtyard that was tended to by Inukimi's servants, but it was an exceedingly beautiful space. It was like stepping into another world, vibrant hues of an abundance of all different kinds of flowers intermingling with the evergreen foliage, giving off a wonderful floral scent to the air, even for Toga's more sensitive nose. Placed sporadically around the courtyard to take advantage of the exquisite views were several benches to sit at. Toga barely gave the courtyard a second glance as he continued to sprint to the other side. His destination was a well kept fence marked by a set of tall, immaculately kept rose bushes.

It wasn't ideal to house Izayoi so far from the rest of the castle, but ever since the birth of their son, Inuyasha, Toga had become paranoid at the thought of someone sneaking into her room for any number of unsavory activities. Toga had his best and most trusted men keep an eye on the area, and he could easily sniff out if anyone had been around who shouldn't have been - a task that had been much more difficult in the middle of a bustling castle. Toga would do whatever it took to keep Izayoi safe; he had already used Tenseiga on her once, so he could not depend on its help again. He had almost lost her and their unborn pup almost a year ago because of that snake of a human, Takemaru, not to mention his own life as well.

Beyond the rose guarded fence was a well kept trail that led to a decently sized building. It was nestled beside a looming cherry blossom tree, and one could see the edges of a koi pond in the back. It was far smaller than any of the living quarters that Izayoi was used to, growing up as a hime, but she had reassured him time and time again that the space was perfect for their little family.

He had to swallow the lump in his throat at the thought of his 'little family'. Who would have thought this voracious little human woman could turn the fearsome Inu no Taisho into such a sap?

Toga walked up to the shoji screen and opened it, stepping through to the main room. Toga barely gave the empty foyer any thought as he made his way to the main bedroom off to the right. Another shoji door shoved to the side and he was finally treated to the sight he had been craving the most.

There, lying on a plush tatami mat, was the most beautiful sight in the world - Izayoi, propped up on a plush bed of fluffy pillows with their pup swaddled at her breast. Kiyo, Izayoi's only maid servant, was in the process of throwing a large, soft blanket over the bottom half of his mate's body.

Izayoi looked up towards him as soon as the shoji door opened, a sleepy smile growing on her face at the sight of her husband. As soon as the blanket was secured over Izayoi, Kiyo turned toward him and reverently bowed.

"Toga-sama," she greeted him.

"Bring us a dinner tray in about an hour, you may be dismissed afterwards. I will attend to all of Izayoi's needs for the remainder of the night," he stated softly. Kiyo bowed to him once again and once to Izayoi, a soft smile on her face as she gazed for a moment on his pup, and quietly passed by.

Toga stayed where he was at the door until he could no longer clearly hear the soft padding of Kiyo's footsteps as she traveled back to the main castle. Keeping her left hand holding Inuyasha up to her breast, she reached out to Toga with her right. He longed to rush to her side, to feel the warmth of her body beside his, but despite his insistence to rush to her room, he took his time to reach her.

Izayoi watched as he meticulously started taking off every individual piece of armor, slowly lowering them to the floor so it didn't startle the pup. Izayoi didn't look irritated in the slightest by the lazy way he undressed; she loved it, in fact. He never took his heated gaze off her as each piece fell, and it never failed to give her goosebumps.

As soon as he was down to just his kosode and hakama, he knelt down beside her and clasped her hand in his. Izayoi giggled as Toga nuzzled his nose against her cheek as his own chest rumbled in satisfaction at the soft tinkling of her laugh. She turned her head to meet him face to face and placed a tender kiss at the corner of his mouth. Toga removed his hand from hers to cup her jaw and deepen their kiss.

Toga would never get enough of her. The way she inhaled as she opened her mouth for him, and sighed deeply, a slight whimper in her voice as her tongue would carefully glide against his fangs. She was so soft and so warm. She tasted sweet and fruity. If he wasn't careful with his little human mate, he could just devour her.

Their kiss was cut short, however, when Izayoi let out a yelp, accidentally pulling at some of his hair from where she had been lightly gripping at the nape of his neck. It had taken a bit of control for Toga to not bite down on her tongue due to the unexpected sharp pain that now bristled at the base of his head.

"Ahh, be careful little one!" Izayoi lightly scolded the infant feeding at her breast. Inuyasha had taken too hard a bite as he drank his mother's milk, scratching the side of her breast with his newly formed - and very sharp - nails. They were not quite long enough to be labeled as 'claws' yet, but they were still sharp enough to tear lightly through human skin.

Inuyasha immediately tried to grab onto Izayoi's breast as soon as her hand let go of his little arm. Toga reached out, offering his own hand to the tiny hanyou, which could more than withstand Inuyasha's baby claws.

Toga squinted his eyes down at his son suspiciously. Inuyasha's gaze never left Toga's as he continued to suckle at Izayoi's breast.

All inuyoukai pups were extremely territorial towards their mothers. Even Sesshomaru had been known to growl at Toga whenever he vied for Kimi's attention - although the stubborn boy would never admit to it. It seemed that fact could also be said of hanyou pups. Toga could practically see the smirk on Inuyasha's face, satisfied that Izayoi was now fussing with him instead of with Toga.

'The brat,' he thought, although it came with no heat behind it. Toga's eyes softened, staring at his youngest son. A warm smile adorned Inuyasha's face as he ate, loving the attention he was receiving from both his parents. His little hand squeezing just a tad tighter around Toga's finger.

It was obvious the pup felt completely safe in the moment, knowing even at such a young age that his parents were there to protect him.

How long would this sense of safety last? At what age will he have to get in the habit of looking over his shoulder at all times? Why must such an innocent life have to have to grow up with such worries? The earlier events of the day began to seep back into Toga's mind, furrowing up his brow at the thought of the other council members and their vitriol.

"What is wrong, my love?," Izayoi asked, sweeping her free hand across his bangs in a loving manner.

"It is quite amazing," he started, not quite ready to answer her question just yet. "For something so small, so delicate, he is already so strong." Toga tried to pull his finger away, but Inuyasha kept a firm grip, unwilling to part with it yet.

"Well, he takes after his father," Izayoi said with a bright smile on her face. Toga did not respond to her, although the small smile didn't leave his face despite the slightly increased furrowing of his brows. Izayoi knew this look; he often came home like this whenever he was forced to fight against his council, usually because of her and their son.

"What did they say this time?" She asked. A part of her didn't want to hear about all the awful things they were saying about their son - she didn't quite care about whatever they thought about her, she was stronger than they all gave her credit for - but she knew there was real fear for the future of the little boy in her arms.

"It doesn't matter."

"Their opinions may not matter, but you shouldn't keep it all to yourself." She lightly gripped his chin in her hand and turned his face to look at her. "We are a team, anata. Do not keep this to yourself"

Toga leaned in towards her neck and inhaled, letting out a deep sigh as he touched his forehead to hers, basking in the warmth she emitted. Her stubbornness, despite opening one of the things he loved about her, was also one of the things he sometimes hated about her, especially when it was up against himself. He wanted to keep them separated from all the hate and viciousness he experienced almost every day. But as he slowly opened his eyes to see the hardened look in her own, he knew there was no keeping anything from her.

For a human, she really knew how to tear down all his walls.

"I don't understand them,"

"Understand who? The council?"

"Them. Everyone. They all believe they have the right to judge who I love, or the children I help bear. How can they look this little one in the eyes and think him an abomination?"

While he was talking, Inuyasha had switched breasts and was now facing away from him, giving Toga a view of his tiny ears. They quirked slightly as Toga talked, trying to pick out his every word. Honestly, they were the cutest things he had ever seen, and they never failed to put a smile on Toga's face. He caressed the back of one of Inuyasha's ears with his knuckle - noting how soft the fur was - making Inuyasha give out a light sigh of contentment as he continued to eat.

"People often fear or hate what they cannot explain," Izayoi said.

"But these are not people, they're youkai - "

"Who also has the tendency to do the same," she interrupted. "You know, you youkai are not all that different from us."

Toga had to stifle a huff at her statement. There were many differences between humans and youkai. From their anatomy to their culture and their social hierarchy. Hell, even their mating rituals were different - Toga had been saddened to find out he could not bind his youki to Izayoi, no matter how hard he tried.

But he didn't want to start an argument about it. He understood where her thoughts were coming from. Youkai would hate him because of the human blood that flowed in his veins, and humans would fear him for the youkai attributes he would possess. Both sides were unable to see past the traits they deemed unworthy or tainted. For all their differences, it was something they could agree on, and the thought made Toga chuckle a bit.

"I suppose you could be right, my little rabbit."

"Of course I'm right, anata," Izayoi replied with a smile on her face. She regarded her husband as he continued to watch Inuyasha, softly stroking his ears or running his hand through his little tuft of white hair. The actions were light, but Izayoi could still see the hardness in his eyes, most likely replaying everything he was forced to listen to today.

Izayoi knew they couldn't just ignore the threats, but she wouldn't let the opinions of others control how they lived. They would teach their son about the necessity of staying vigilant and how to protect himself when his parents couldn't, but they would also teach him how to laugh, and to love with all his heart. They would show the world just how special their family was.

They would have to tread carefully, but if they did it right, they could completely change the dynamic between human and youkai relationships.

"Don't let them get to you Toga. Let's just enjoy the night,"

It was like any other night they spent together. They laid together on the futon, one wriggling child in between them as they made idle chatter about everything and nothing all at once. Kiyo came in to bring them supper, and after Toga had made sure that his mate had eaten her fill, Izayoi and Inuyasha fell into an easy slumber as Toga watched over the pair.

The future he was working toward would not come easy, and there would be many obstacles put forth to hinder him, but in that moment Toga promised both his mate and his pup that he would do whatever it took to bring them a lifetime of happiness.

One changed mind at a time.

#inuparentsday2021 #howtomakeahanyou #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfic #canon divergent #toga doesnt die #FLUFF

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austarus · 4 years

Text

Harry Wells x Reader Amending Past Actions

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @moonymartell

*Set Post-s4 but before s6, with the revelation of Harry’s cube message that Cisco and Caitlin had found in s6. I think that makes sense. Anyway, just humor me ok? I miss my grumpy and soft scientist.

Word Count: 3350

“Dad, we can’t just let that meta get away with Syberon Labs’ technoscope.” Jesse spoke in a hushed manner as to not let other wandering ears to hear her their conversation. The undergrad had trailed right behind her father as the taller Wells made his way to his office. Harry pressed his thumb on the fingerprint scan against the wall beside his door, unlocking the system to reveal an intricate pass-code sequence as well. Harry mused to himself that it’s a miracle he managed to re-learn and memorize the security code. The dark-haired man had to ensure that no one except him, you, and Jesse were able to enter his area of isolation and Time Vault if there were to be maliciously rampant around the city like Zoom. The young speedster paused until they had fully entered the office and closed the door. The dimness of the room brightened up due to the motion-sensory had had installed years ago. “We have to let the board understand the amount of damage that meta can cause even if the tech isn’t linked to their powers.”

“Jesse, while I do appreciate that you keep me around for your meta-hero work, in this case my hands are tied. I can’t speak on behalf of the science anymore.” Harry replied as he pulled off his bag from his shoulder to set it beside his desk. Long legs moved to take a seat at his workspace, Harry unbuttoned the black buttons of his suit jacket. He had an earlier demonstration pitch to make with speaking to him in his ear for the science-y parts. The not-so-genius CEO inwardly sighed at the amount of proposals on his desks. “I’m not what I once was.”

“What if you could?”

Blue eyes ceased scanning the stack of papers he held in his hand. Harry gently laid them back down the cool glassy surface. “… What are you saying?”

Jesse took a step forward in front of her father’s desk, taking a breath in to resist the urge to accidentally speed-talk her lightbulb moment whenever she got excited. “What if we enhance your neural firing up to the intricate speed that it was once at in each your nervous cells? Therefore, amplifying your neural functions to compensate for cognition and analytical/systematic processing within certain parts of your brain. We’d also have to certify that other areas of your brain are also matching the same speeds before the Enlightenment accident so that we don’t get an overcompensation of neural stimulation. If we increase the firing rate to the adequate speed without causing your body to overstimulate or overwork itself biochemically then we should be able to get your mind back to what it once was. That means we’d also have to know your body’s precise neural chemical levels to see if we need to inject increments in order to compensate for the firing rate values while balancing the fact that we’d have to scan your brain for any traces of dark matter or sub-particles. I’m sure you’d documented your initial firing rate along everything else before you did the tests on the Cerebral inhibitor back on Earth-1.”

That’s my Jesse Quick. Harry had watched his daughter with wide eyes as she spoke confidently. Pride swelled in his chest even though he found himself nodding to the gibberish that came out of her mouth. I should have been able to understand all of that… “Honey.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you-

“-I love you too, dad-”

“-but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this- but in English, please.” This is probably how Joe feels every time Barry and the others spoke with me about science and physics and all that.

“We’re going to speed up your brain back to what it once was.”

“No.”

Jesse blinked at her father’s sudden response. “What? Why?”

Harry stammered before responding, running a hand through his unusually groomed hair. No longer unruly without the anxiety from problem-solving each meta incident or the next big bad. “I’m not- I can’t do that again. Something’s going to go wrong and… I can’t put you through that like I put (Y/N) and the Team. I lost myself, Jesse. I can’t go through all of that- that helplessness again.” Jesse watched her father with a pained expression before casting it downwards, the subtle guilt of not being at her father’s side when all that had gone down. I could have prevented his pain. Was the one thought that rang within the depths of her mind each day.

“Dad, I refuse to accept the fact that there’s nothing that we can do.”

“Jesse-”

“(Y/N) will even be here to monitor your neural and physiological vitals. She’ll be the green light if things go smoothly.”

“Jesse-”

“Just let me try. I can fix you.”

“Jesse!” Harry slammed a hand down on the desk, the harshness of the impact caused a picture frame to fall and shatter. The older Wells rubbed his face before massaging his temples. Don’t give me hope from what I had sorrowingly lost. “Stop, please. It’s not going to work. I’m fine with everything as it is now.”

“But are you content?” Jesse asked with pleading eyes. Harry looked up at his daughter before tilting his head off to the side. Finally, his gazed locked back on her.

“It’s better than being a blank slate or dead.”

“But are you content, dad?” Jesse asked once more, stepping over to pick up the fallen and cracked picture from. It had been of him and you and Team Flash last Christmas. His first Christmas with them. She handed her father the frame with a sigh. “I’ve seen you… stay up late at night wandering the labs, picking up your old notes, and trying to rework things at home until the early morning. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your intelligence back.”

“My intelligence doesn’t define me, Jesse. You need to understand that. I’m balanced now, that’s good enough for me.” Is it though?

“It doesn’t define you, but it’s something you value, dad. You’re my dad. My badass dad, who fought in the War of the Americas. Who jumped breaches to find a way to save me from Zoom while trying to keep the others safe by dropping hints. Who’s stubborn and prickly but ended up making friends on Earth-1 that you now consider family more than ever and met the one other person you’d sacrifice everything in life for. (Y/N). Your skill, intelligence, and determination brought you up to that point. Brains and brawns always win the fight, brawns can’t do it alone. I just-I just want to make you happy.”

“…”

“Dad, do you trust me?”

“You know I do, Jesse.��

“Then let me try.”

“Okay,” Harry grumbled as he leaned back and cracked his stiff neck, he adorned a serious expression on his face. “But we keep this between us. I’m already receiving backlash from your hero group as it is just being present at my own Labs.”

“Don’t worry about them. Oh, and one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Did you tell Cisco and (Y/N) about my team?”

“Yes?”

“Did Cisco come up with a name? Did (Y/N) approve?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah! So did they?”

“He might have rattled off a few names. One of them was probably Jesse and the Quicksters.”

“Not bad, I like it.”

“Don’t get any ideas.” Harry lightly scolded Jesse, who cheekily grinned at him.

“I won’t, I won’t,” the young speedster observed her father carefully as he moved past her to a desk space. Unlocking it, the Earth-2 Wells pulled out various notes and finals a blueprint model. Jesse padded over to stand across her father as she eyed the papers. “What’s this?”

“These,” Harry started, “are all the notes and things I had with me about the Cerebral Inhibitor. The blueprints are of mine and Cisco’s as well as the ones I snagged from Marlize after she had left the labs, who made readjustments to regain my intelligence.”

Jesse had already picked up the up-to-date notes by Marlize then the blueprints. She wasn’t even going to ask her father why he even had those in his possession because some part of her felt that he had been contemplating this too. “This is some A-class sloppy work, no wonder you weren’t able to fully get everything back.”

“Think you can outdo her.” Harry quirked a playful eyebrow at his daughter, who only returned the gesture. Jesse’s mind already had been making mental notes on the kinds of improvements that needed to be done.

“Hell yeah I can. I’m a Wells after all.” The speedster grinned up at her father, taking a seat on a spare chair and already sifting through the baroque equations and mathematical language.

Nothing lifted Harry’s spirits more than having his daughter beside him, their relation had been sewn back together. Harry left his daughter to jot down and hypothesize the necessary medications needed. Knowing my daughter, she’ll want to create the Cerebral Inhibitor from scratch. Harry took a seat at his desk once more, taking up paper after paper and analyzing the business proposals sent in. He may not have his intelligence anymore, but that does not necessarily mean he can’t run the business side of STAR Labs. Jesse was currently managing the science and analytical research side. But is this really going to work?

***

Harry covered his yawn as he set down the paper packet and pen in hand. Glancing over, he noticed that he had been working away for nearly 3 hours. The war veteran reclined back on his comfy leather chair as he stretched his limbs. His eyes wondered over to Jesse hunched over, speedily working through the notes as sounds of furious scribbling filled the silent void of the office today. With every intention of getting up and taking a walk through the Labs to get the blood flowing, Harry stood up and loosened his collar.

Blue eyes widened as a breach opened. Jesse’s ears had instantly perked up and, like the speedster she is, she raced to be beside her father in a defensive position. Spluttering sounds emitted from the breach as a very disoriented Wolfgang Wells stumbled out and onto the ground. Jesse looked thoroughly confused as did Harry. The doppelganger cowered on the ground in fear as more spluttering sounds signaled another emerging traveler. Harry watched you pop out of the breach.

“Hi,” You sent a friendly wave to your boyfriend and his daughter along with a cute, innocent-looking smile.

“(Y/N)?”

“One sec,” you held out a hand to them before yanking Wolfgang up by the back of his collar with all your might. Instantaneously, you twisted the German man’s arm back tightly behind him and locked Wolfgang in place adorning a threating sort of smile on your face. Harry blinked a few times as to what the hell was going on while Jesse crossed her arms and observed in amusement much to Wolfgang’s chagrin. “Ok, so let’s try this again. What do we saw when we’re wrong about judging others and their misfortune?”

Wolfgang sneered at you when he had tilted his head make eye contact with you, “You’re joking, rechts?” Your smile dropped astonishingly at his response. A darker look in your eyes as you kicked the back of his knee causing the older man to yelp and fall to bend uncomfortably. Harry ‘tch’ed and winced at what he witnessed. Jesse covered her mouth and hid her laughs at your chosen course of action. “It was wrong for me to do that.” Sie wird mich töten!

“And?”

“Und vhat?” You kick the back of his other knee and dug your fingers in the pressure point of his shoulder muscle, allowing the man to succumb on the ground on his knees. He groaned out in pain. “Und I’m sorry for kicking you out of the Council.”

“What. Else.”

“I shouldn’t have laughed at your face for losing your intelligence. It was a horrible thing for me to do. Können Sie mich jetzt gehen lassen?” Bitte, erbarme dich.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You grinned a bit sadistically at him, letting him go and pulling the Breach Extrapolator. Once it was open you grabbed the flinching man and shoved him back into the breach to his Earth.

You turned around and your sweet disposition had returned, sunshine and all. As if the menacing persona you had adorned vanished in a matter of seconds when that breach had closed. Throughout the entire exchange Jesse had spared a glance at her father to literally see him making heart eyes at you and a gentle smile on his face. Harry won’t even deny that your entire gesture had warmed his heart with one thought running through his mind. That’s my wife. That you had gone through the trouble to do all of that for him. Harry’s twinkling eyes never left you and Jesse just rolled her eyes at her dorky father. A smirk had bewitched its way onto his face as he stepped away from his daughter and towards you. You felt heat crawl its way to your cheeks at the hidden look behind his eyes. His arms instantly wrapped around you, holding you tightly to himself as you reciprocated the gesture of affection. You kissed the side of his head, your insides ballooning to maximum capacity.

Pulling away, Harry couldn’t help but tease you, “To what do I owe the great pleasure of Persephone coming all this way to visit my humble abode.”

“I’m so telling Cisco that you’re using his nerdy mythology reference for us.”

“Humor me this one time, will you?”

“You do know that Persephone means Destroyer of Light, right?” You gave him a quirky look, your arms loosely wrapped around him.

“I know, but it seems like the Destroyer of Light has a particular soft spot for a man like me.” Harry just wiggled his eyebrows at you causing the both of you to giggle like dorks. You leaned up and rubbed your nose with his.

“Ugh, you guys are gross. Sickeningly cute, but still gross. Just kiss already so I can give hugs.” Jesse pipped up with a gagging expression. Harry chuckled with pink cheeks and leaned down for a quick kiss, much to your disappointment before Jesse shoved her father away from you. You gave the young speedster the biggest of hugs because you truly did miss her presence and enthusiasm. “(Y/N), that was badass. I didn’t know you could even get that angry. And like, not just anger that my dad normally has when he gets frustrated that something’s not working- silent anger. I’ve been told that’s the worst and most malevolent kind of anger.”

You rubbed the back of your neck when the both of you had turned away, a sheepish laugh falling off your lips. Music to Harry’s ears obviously. “It usually takes a lot to get me that made.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side. I may be a speedster and everything, but ‘hell hath no wrath than a woman scorned’.”

“I don’t think that’s really possible for you to do, Jesse.”

“Jesse?” Harry interrupted before the speedster could go on rattling off, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah?” Her father gave her a pointed look before signaling with his head simultaneously towards the direction of the door. “Right, yes. I have to go… review a few projects for class. 3 Majors and all- Anyway don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and always use protection kids-” You blinked, and Jesse was gone in a flash of yellow-green lightning. Your cheeks as well as Harry’s lit up at her last statement before she left the office.

“Man, I really wish I had superspeed,” you sighed at her rushed exit, leaning into Harry’s side. He rubbed your arm gingerly.

“Really?”

“Well yeah, think of all the things Barry normally gets done.”

“Yet, he still manages to get his ass handed to him by metas. Every time.”

“True.”

You moved your gaze up and locked eyes with those beautiful azure ones. “You breached over just in time.” Harry took your hand gently and brought you over to the couch. The dark-haired man dimmed the lights in the room, mentally knowing that he deserves a break right now and obviously he wasn’t going to waste time working when you’re currently in the same vicinity as him. You sat close to one another, just automatically cuddling together in each other’s arms on the couch-bed. Harry took one of your hands once more and kissed the back of it before moving to peck each fingertip on your hands. You raked your teeth over your bottom lip as you eyed him with a half-lidded gaze. “We need to talk, babe.” He whispered softly.

“You think so? If anything, I also think I came at the right time. I actually get to see you in a suit again.”

Harry paused with a confused look. “You don’t like my usual casual look.”

“No, I do. I love it, really. I’m just…”

“Just?”

“Really I think you’re sexy in a suit but in reality, you’re handsome in literally anything you wear especially when you roll up your sleeves when you work on something and all that jazz.”

Harry blinked a couple of times, trying to process your rapid-fire rambling response. A soft smile graced his face and he shook his head at you. “I assume that my suit shirts will also be on the list of things you steal from me this time around before leaving to Earth-1.”

“I don’t steal. I borrow.”

“Uh huh. Then can you return those sweaters that you borrowed.”

“That depends, will you actually be sleeping over at my place this time around?”

“Well, that depends on what’s in it for me.”

You kissed Harry’s nose before winking at him. “I was thinking of cooking dinner together. Jesse included as well and- I don’t know- go out for a walk in the city and then we can come back home and do stuff…”

“Do stuff?”

You nodded shyly under his smug face, before switching the conversation. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Jesse believes she can fully restore my intelligence. Not just basic necessities to be a functioning and thinking human being.” Harry ran his fingers through your hair. Confusion crossed your features momentarily as you pulled back to fully look at your boyfriend. You opened your mouth, but Harry beat you to it. “Don’t ask me about the details but- She thinks she can speed up my brain to properly retain its normal function. Before Devoe…” Harry trailed off and you saw the pain flash through his eyes.

You took in a breath and contemplated your next words. “If this is what you want, then I will be here. Every step of the way. If Marlize couldn’t do it, Jesse can.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I believe in Jesse, she’s your daughter after all. Brilliance, character, and tenacity.”

His strong jaw had softened as his lips turned up into a beautiful smile with mesmerizing blue eyes. The sight caused your heart to beat harder in your chest. “You really are the Persephone to my Hades.” You felt jittery under his heated gaze.

“Harry, I would eat as many pomegranates just to stay by your side, oh great kind of the Underworld.”

“Is that your way of saying ‘yes’ if I were to propose?”

You held your breath in the tender moment before breathing out your response. “Yes.”

Blue eyes sparkled at your response. Harry peppered your face with kisses as giggles left your lips and small acts of adoration were exchanged. “Then as long as you’re in my life, I will be content.” You cupped his face and planted a sweet kiss on his anticipating lips. Harry smiled against your mouth and nipped gently at your lips. The tiny dark velvet box didn’t seem to bear as much weight as it initially had a few months ago in Harry’s pocket anymore.

German Translation:

Rechts?- Right?

Sie wird mich töten - She is going to kill me!

Bitte, erbarme dich. – Please, have mercy

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thewayshedreamed · 4 years

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An Elriel fic

This fic is set in the “This Time” Nessian AU— Starting with Elain’s birthday party from Part 3. Here’s the back story of those texts that haunted Elain, how the conversation with Azriel went, and mention of the eventual date that Nesta interrupted in Part 6 😉

You can catch up on This Time here!

A/N: It only took an eternity for me to finish this chapter. It’s the first thing I’ve posted that’s Elriel-centric, so I found myself deleting/re-writing to try and get it right. Eventually, I had to cut myself off and just put myself out there, so I hope y’all like how I’ve written them! Shoutout to @keshavomit and @acourtofmarauders whose comments inspired me to share this!!

——————————————————————————

Once Nesta dropped her off at her apartment post birthday breakfast, Elain drew herself a hot bubble bath. She hoped the warm water would ease her achy muscles and her unsteady nerves; both from the night before. It wasn’t that she had completely blacked out. She remembered the majority of the night, with only the time after her body started to succumb to exhaustion being a little fuzzy.

She lay back onto the back of the tub, taking a deep breath of eucalyptus scented bubbles and easing her eyes closed. She couldn’t help but reflect over the night, heart swelling with love for her family and friends who had truly made her 23rd birthday one to remember. It was increasingly rare that every one of them were able to get together on the same night, and she was feeling extra loved that they made it out just for her.

She had a few laughs to herself as the memories ran through her mind. She thought of her and Feyre dancing for hours, being joined by the others on and off throughout the night. Cassian grabbing her hand when Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” came through the speakers, spinning her around and singing loudly with her. Her friends keeping her drinks full and making her laugh. Being so excited that Nesta finally joined them for a couple of songs. Spinning into Azriel accidentally and hearing his deep laugh as he steadied her.

And just like that, her thoughts hanged on Azriel; like they always seemed to. She was no moron. She knew they had a natural sort of chemistry, but she always struggled to tell if he truly saw her that way or if he would ever be open to her. She was struck with a memory of him from the night before, something that hadn’t come back to her until now.

——————————————————————————

Somehow, she had ended up near the edge of the dance floor, semi-cornered near a table by Grayson. She remembered being so annoyed that he’d been there and even more annoyed that he was insisting on polite conversation. She wanted to yell at him that she knew he didn’t give a shit how she was doing and that he had no right to know after he’d wrecked her heart a couple of years prior. She wanted to swat at his hands when he would laugh and playfully touch her or reach for her. The alcohol in her system was begging her to do all of it, and she was almost completely convinced. Just one more touch or one more attempt at familiarity, and it was game over. She steeled herself, waiting, until a pair of arms wrapped gently around her waist from behind.

“There you are, love.” Azriel’s smooth, deep voice ran over her, and she relaxed immediately.

He was closer than usual, more affectionate. She realized the show they were supposed to be putting on, and she leaned into him. She rested her head back on his chest, and turned her chin way up to look into his face. He was looking down at her, mere inches away, with amusement sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“Hey,” she breathed, lamely, if she was being honest with herself. She felt the impression of cool glass in her hand and looked down.

”Sorry it took me so long to grab your drink. The bar was really backed up.”

She looked down at the half-empty glass in her hand. Definitely his existing drink. She decided to give him a little hell. Why not? They were pretending, anyway.

“Babe. It’s half-empty,” she pointed out through a laugh.

He narrowed his eyes at her playfully, telling her he knew she was being difficult. “I may or may not have gotten thirsty on my way back to find you.”

“Az, you remember Grayson.” She gestured toward her ex as she spoke. When he looked up, she noticed the tension in his jaw.

“Of course. How are you, man?” He released her waist with one hand, extending it toward Grayson. Grayson only looked at it, ignored it completely, and addressed Elain.

”Really? This guy? You’re better than that.” She felt Azriel tense behind her. Grayson gripped her upper arm, pulling her toward him. “You can’t be fucking serious, Elain. Guys like him are good for one thing. Maybe you can have a few good rolls around in the sheets, but you can’t honestly expect to settle down with a guy like him.”

All too quickly, Azriel’s large hand gripped Grayson’s wrist where he was holding Elain’s arm. There was a layer of darkness to his tone that Elain had never heard.

“Get your fucking hand off of her. Now.” He gripped Grayson harder in warning, but Grayson’s eyes stayed on Elain’s.

“Elain, come on,” Grayson said.

She was fuming. His company had been unwelcome from the beginning. He’d been far too comfortable entering her personal space. He had openly insulted Azriel on multiple levels. He was manhandling her. The words left her before she could stop them, the alcohol delighting that it finally got its way.

“Even if you’re right, he’s the best fuck I’ve ever had and has ruined me for anyone else. So allow me to indulge myself for as long as I feel like it,” she seethed.

Grayson’s eyes widened and quickly narrowed in anger. Nevertheless, his grip on her arm softened, and Azriel shoved his arm back toward his body. He shook his head and walked away, totally speechless.

“You okay, Ellie?” Azriel was in front of her now, looking down into her face. He was running the back of his fingers up and down her arms, and she cursed the goosebumps that erupted over her skin.

“Yeah. I really am. Thank you for coming over. You didn’t have to do that,” she said. She glanced up at him and watched his features soften when he realized she was serious. Shortly thereafter, he started laughing.

“Elain, you can’t just go around saying things like that about me. Word will travel, and I may not live up to people’s expectations,” he joked.

She groaned, feeling guilty that she had completed objectified him without his consent. She leaned into him, resting her forehead on his chest for a couple of seconds before looking at him again.

“I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what got into me. I just felt like humbling him a little, and I didn’t like how he was talking about you.”

Azriel laughed as he pulled her into a hug, his forearm braced around her neck.

“No apologies, Ellie. Come on. I owe you a drink; you know, a fresh one.”

——————————————————————————

Elain’s eyes popped open, and despite the heat of the bath water, she felt herself flush further at the memory. He hadn’t seemed bothered, but holy shit. Who would take it upon themselves to call someone “the best fuck they’ve ever had” when they’d never so much as hugged long enough to be considered intimate? Gods above.

She was obsessively thinking about her deleted messages again. She grabbed her phone off the side of the tub, hoping that when she opened her messages app, all of her texts would magically reappear. They didn’t, just as they hadn’t the other 15 times she’d done it that day.

She removed the plug from the bathtub, letting the water out and begging it to take all her memories along with it. She toweled off, put her lazy Sunday clothes on, and padded out of the bathroom.

She was startled by her phone ringing and dragging her back to the present. To her absolute horror, Azriel’s name flashed on her screen.

She steadied herself before she answered. She was glad to hear that her voice sounded as if she were a perfectly stable person.

“Hello?”

”Hey, Ellie. How you feeling today?” he teased.

Hungover. Fucking mortified.

”About how you would imagine,” she laughed. “What’s up?”

”I wanted to check in on you. And I wanted to see when you would have some free time to meet up. I still have your gift,” he explained.

Of course he’d gotten her a gift. Because he was wonderful. And she’d treated him like a glorified escort. She answered him before she lost her nerve.

”Oh. You didn’t have to do that, Az,” she paused. “What about now? You could come by?”

It took him a couple of seconds to respond. “Um, sure. Yeah. You know, it doesn’t have to be today, though. I didn’t mean to impose or anything.”

Shit. Was she too eager? To hell with it if she was. Waiting would kill her.

”You’re not! Really. I’m just being a bum on my couch today. I’d like the company,” she replied.

——————————————————————————

After about thirty minutes, Elain was convinced she was being stood up. Maybe he didn’t have the heart to tell her he wasn’t wanting to see her today. She was about to draft a text to him before she heard his knock on her apartment door.

“Come in!” she called. She had unlocked her door during her fitful pacing minutes ago.

He poked his head in before opening the door and stepping inside. The sunshine flowed into the apartment behind him, and for a second, she was almost convinced that he was superhuman. His dark hair was damp and brushed haphazardly to the side, and she couldn’t help thinking about how unfairly attractive he was. He was wearing a black v-neck with black jogger sweats, and his scent of cedar and mist washed over her as he plopped on her couch.

“You look way too alive and well today. Seems a little unfair,” she pouted.

He breathed a laugh as he turned toward her. “Some of us drank water throughout the night, birthday girl,” he teased as he tapped her nose with his index finger.

“Hey!” she exclaimed in faux annoyance. “I drank water. Maybe it was today, but I did.”

He tapped her knee with his hand, and she swore she felt it throughout her entire body.

”I’ll be nice. I’m here bearing gifts, after all,” he replied.

She thought back to the night before. The memory of their bit with Grayson, her deleted texts. She thought of Nesta’s words of advice that morning to ask him about the only remaining text she had: his reply. It was now or never, she supposed.

”Before you give me my present...” She bit her lip. “...can I talk to you?”

She watched his eyes land on her lips and jump immediately to her meet her stare. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Of course, Ellie. About anything. You okay?” His words, so similar to those he asked her last night, flooded her nerves all over again.

“I woke up this morning to a really confusing text from you. Not that what you said is confusing necessarily, but apparently, I deleted all of my texts last night. I must have done it right before you responded, so I have zero context to our conversation.” She could feel the heat of her blush on her chest, her neck, her face. She wanted to be literally anywhere else. She showed him the text for frame of reference.

Azriel: 😂 Not cool. You had me worried there for a minute, Ellie. Goodnight. Hope you enjoyed your birthday.

She watched his eyes scan the text, his lips spreading into a small smile. He wasn’t speaking soon enough for her liking.

”Oh. That. We had been texting a little at the table right before you left, but at some point between you standing to leave and getting home, you sent me this.” He scrolled through his phone until he landed on her message. He turned it to her so that she could read it for herself.

Ellie: I’m v mad at you Az

Another one, several minutes later.

Ellie: Nvm talked to Nessie. We’re good. Night 😘

Cauldron, Elain. Kiss emoji, really?

The only other message was his response that she’d already shown him.

She shook her head. “I have no idea what that’s about. What was I saying before that?”

Now it was Azriel’s turn to blush, the tips of his ear turning a faint pink. “Oof. I don’t know if sober me feels as bold as the drunk me in those. I think I’ll just keep those tucked away.”

She blinked at him and his nerve to insinuate he was going to keep them from her.

“Azriel Spion. You better show me those texts.”

”Mm. Don’t think I will, Elain Archeron.” His blush spread to his cheeks.

She lunged for his phone, but he dodged her at the last second. He lifted it into the air out of her reach, her body sprawled across his lap. Elain with less adrenaline would have been mortified to find herself there, but this was critical information. She pushed herself back onto her knees, reaching for the phone in his outstretched hand. He evaded her yet again.

”Why are you so giant? For the love of the Mother, just let me see!” she exclaimed.

”No! It’s not my fault you deleted yours,” he retorted.

She knew she would never be able to overpower him, and he was too stubborn for her to talk him into giving in. She landed on torture, hoping it would work in her favor.

She stopped reaching for his phone and instead turned her hands to his torso. His position left his underarms wide open, and she took her chance, hoping he was ticklish. Otherwise, this would only be even more awkward than it already was.

To her absolute delight, Azriel yelped in surprise. He immediately snapped his arms to his sides as he tried, and failed, to hold back his loud laugh. He tried to move away or grip her hands, but doing so would mean he would have to shift his arms. His body wouldn’t allow it.

“Elain!” he bellowed. “Stop it. I said STOP.” He let out another loud belly laugh, and Elain fell a little bit harder at the sound. It was one of the most precious things she had ever seen. Azriel, who was always so reserved, so dry, letting out such a loud, deep laugh felt like an honor to witness.

”Not until you show me those texts! They’re just as much mine as there are yours!” She had to raise her voice over his laughter, the words coming out through laughter of her own.

“You didn’t keep yours,” he said through clenched teeth between laughs. “Not. My. Problem.”

She pushed her fingers in a little harder, and he yelped again, dissolving into laughter once more.

“Fine! Alright!” he yelled. “You win!”

He tossed his phone on the cushion behind her. She stopped immediately to retrieve it, leaving Azriel spent and gasping for breath next to her.

“You tiny, brutal woman,” he breathed, eyes locked on her.

She waved him off, scrolling up through his messages to the beginning of last night’s conversation. The first messages were mild enough. She thanked him for her birthday drink, for saving her from that conversation with Grayson, for humoring her with a slow dance despite the fact that he wasn’t one to dance much. His responses were polite and friendly, barely on the flirtatious side. She was about to toss his phone into his lap and call him dramatic before her eyes landed on a message that sent her pulse through the roof.

Ellie: That feels nice. Thank you 😊

A: Anything for the birthday girl.

Ellie: I mean, I can’t believe everyone hasn’t offered to play with my hair. Seems a little rude.

A: Very. I guess you’ll have to get new friends.

Ellie: Except you. You have to stay 💕

A: Like I said, anything for you.

She shot her gaze up to look at Azriel. He was watching her with the focus of a surgeon, scanning her face for any reaction. She was doing the same to him. She had a vague, fuzzy memory of sitting next to him in their booth for a portion of the night and assumed that’s when these had occurred. They had likely resorted to texting considering their friends’ nosiness. There were more messages, the time stamp about thirty minutes later.

Ellie: Stop being so nice to me. I’m going to fall in love with you.

A: Promise?

Ellie: 😅 Very funny. You’ve been warned.

The rest were the ones she’d already read about how she was mad at him, whatever that meant. She could hear her own heartbeat; feel her blood pressure in her gums. She knew her blush was at an embarrassing level, and she had to take a couple of deep breaths before she looked at him again. He was still looking at her, an almost pained expression on his face.

She cleared her throat. “So. Did you?”

”Did I what?”

”Stop being nice to me,” she murmured.

”No.”

She locked his phone and handed it back to him as she settled into the cushions. She wanted so badly to close the distance between them, but she knew she’d already pushed him beyond his comfort zone. His answer spoke volumes if she was interpreting him correctly, but she was terrified to find out. She decided to stay the course, keeping the focus on her deleted messages.

“I guess I should check in with Nes. Just to see what I was mad about,” she said quietly.

”I talked to her this morning,” he murmured.

Her eyes locked on his yet again.

”And are you going to tell me?”

”Do I have a choice? You’ll torture it out of me otherwise,” he joked. She was grateful for the laughter as a break in the tension. He cleared his throat.

“You told Nesta you were mad at her, too. When she asked why, you told her it was because she and I are such close friends,” he said. He glanced at her, giving her a chance to react.

“Why would I care about that now? I only know you because of your friendship.” She was so tired of being lost, of being the only one who didn’t know what was happening.

His voice remained quiet and even, as if speaking any louder may scare her away. “You told her it was because I would never look at you. Because you’re her little sister and I was considerate and wouldn’t want to make her mad.”

She swallowed thickly, hoping she looked more put together than she actually was. “And what did she say that made me so quick to drop it?”

That evoked a small laugh and the sound of it made her want to curl into him. “That I’m not scared of her in the slightest,” he began. “And that I was basically the only person she would find worth of you.” His blush deepened as he finished.

She nodded, processing his words. Her mouth was dry, and she was totally speechless. The distance between them was almost painful now, but she was so terrified to make him uncomfortable and potentially ruin their comfortable friendship.

He shifted on her couch, scooting a little closer to her. She was still facing him, her legs curled under her and her elbow settled on the back of the couch. She propped her head on her fist and fixed her gaze on his thigh, an inch away from her knees.

“When I told Nesta that I’d deleted my texts, she told me to talk to you. That you would be understanding.” She glanced up at him. “I basically bit her head off. But it’s because she knew without a doubt that you would understand, isn’t it?”

”She’s known for a long time how I feel, Ellie. Without me having to say a word.”

All she could do was nod. He shifted forward, turning his attention back to the reason he’d come over.

”Az, you really didn’t have to—“ he interrupted her my lifting a scarred finger.

”None of that. I wanted to, and I did.” He placed an envelope in her lap as he ran his hand through his damp hair.

She opened it, scanning small documents inside to figure out what he had gifted her. Two tickets to see the Velaris Philharmonic Orchestra. One of the first true conversations they��d had, she shared with him that she wanted to go one day. With the hustle and bustle of life and the expenses that came with it, she’d never gotten around to it.

True to her sensitive spirit, tears brimmed her lower eyelids. She was so touched that he remembered but simultaneously felt guilty that he’d spent so much on a gift for her.

“You can invite who you want to. I know Nesta has wanted to go, but you can bring a friend, too. I just wanted to make sure you had company. It didn’t feel right to give you a gift where you’d have to go alone.” Her heart melted at his rambling. Azriel never showed his nerves, and he had let that wall down for her several times today.

“Azriel.” She glanced at him, willing him to look at her again. His elbows were resting on his knees and he’d been staring straight ahead as he spoke. He finally turned his head toward her, his onyx hair brushing across his brow. She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder as she took in his elegant bone structure.

“Thank you. I love it more than you know,” she whispered.

His eyes lit up at her words, and her chest squeezed at how much joy it brought him to make her happy. His eyes fell to her lips, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him wet his own. He brought a scarred hand up to cup her cheek and pulled her face even closer to his, using his thumb to pull her lip from her teeth. She gasped softly, and he pressed his full lips softly to hers. She leaned into him, letting out a small whimper when his grip tightened slightly on her cheek.

Something shifted in him at hearing her whimper into his mouth, and he sat up to orient his body toward hers. He deepened the kiss, then hooked his hand behind her knee to pull her over his lap. She settled into him, moving her hips against his, and he let out a low groan as she moved.

She pulled back from his kiss to look at him, still a little in disbelief that this is where their day had taken them. She ran her fingers through his hair and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. He let out the most indecent moan, and it took everything she had not to slant her mouth over his again.

“What are you doing Thursday?” she asked.

His eyes popped open, still a little glazed over from the heat between them. His hands were under her sweater, thumbs tracing small circles over her ribs.

“No plans, why?”

”A very dear friend of mine gifted me two tickets to see the orchestra, and I’d really like to take you on a date, if that’s okay.”

He smiled at her, his eyes turning up at the corners as he looked at her. “I would say I feel bad for the guy, but there’s no way I’m missing that,” he replied, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “I’ll be sure to pull out my best suit.”

Her returning smile was so broad, it almost hurt. “Perfect. I can’t wait,” she whispered as she started to rock her hips once more. His lips crashed into hers then, their conversation over for the time being.

Before she lost herself in him completely, she had one fleeting thought as she reflected over their earlier words. “So, did you?”— “Did I what?”— “Stop being nice to me.”— “No.”

It looked like he was hell bent on keeping it that way, and she knew she was beyond screwed.

She was already in love with Azriel Spion, and even still, he was never going to stop being nice to her.

——————————————————————————

Well, there it is! A brief timeline note: Nesta’s phone call falls on that Thursday, during their post-date sleepover. I hope y’all enjoyed it!

Tags (This Time taglist + masterlist):

@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy // @iammissstark // @keshavomit // @sjmships // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @dusty-lightbulb // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @julemmaes // @charincharge // @superspiritfestival // @awesomelena555 // @sleeping-and-books // @hizqueen4life // @maastrash // @bookstantrash // @rhyswhitethorn // @grace-k-sterling // @sayosdreams // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @courtofjurdan // @sannelovesreading // @acourtofmarauders // @candice-dick-fit-in-your-mouth // @gisellefigue08 // @girl-who-reads-the-books

#elriel #elriel au #elain archeron #Azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #twsd writes #twsd fics #this time au

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 3.3}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.6k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"You've got to be joking…" Robin groaned to herself more than to either of them and rolled her eyes in exasperation. Right… this still was a public place, even at night. After a second of collecting herself, she put on her game face and continued her way towards Snape's desk, where he mentioned for her to sit down as well. Honestly, she was only glad that she didn't have to sit at her own desk like some idiot in detention, and that probably was the exact reason why Snape made her sit up front with him now. At least Robin chose to read that intention into his actions now.

"Hey, why doesn't she have to write a stupid three page essay on valerian root?!" David complained a second later, with clearly more of a pout to his tone than would leave any room for dignity.

"Because unlike someone I'm not in detention." Robin replied neutrally but with a deathly glare. "Now shut up and do your work."

Surprisingly enough, David actually looked quite intimidated in return, but Robin had the faint idea that this might be more due to Snape's glare than her own. Huh, maybe she should have let him handle this… with him being… the professor… and all that… Robin looked down at the book in her hands and took a deep breath to counteract the heat burning on her cheeks.

"McGonagall found him sneaking around the hallways with one of her own students. A second year girl, who should be serving her own detention with Minerva right at this moment." Snape said, much to Robin's surprise. She hadn't expected an explanation for the ongoings, and certainly not coming from him on his own account. But she also couldn't help the barest hint of a smirk that came to her lips.

"So that should be the infamous tall-and-older girlfriend he keeps bragging about? I must say I'm disappointed… Is she tall at least?" Robin mumbled, hiding her smirk by looking down as she placed her book on the desk between herself and Snape.

"No." He replied in perfect indifference and Robin had to snort, however very quietly and very shortly.

"Pity…" She brought out in almost the same level of indifference that for her as well as for him was but a mere charade at this point.

"I can hear you, you know that?!" David complained, and this time Robin remembered her place for once and kept quiet.

"You already have two weekends worth of detention, should we make that three, Mister Thompson?" Snape asked with that particular expression that literally gave every student the jitters in utter terror. Well, every student but Robin, but he hadn't used it in her in a long time, so who knew how she'd react… Robin wasn't too keen on finding out. David looked back down to his work, probably intimidated just as much as angry, but at least he seemed to stay quiet this time.

"So, uh, yes…" Robin started to get back into work mode and effectively stop herself from getting tempted into sassing Snape. With David around, he surely would scold her rather than smirk, and she didn't have the nerve for that tonight. So back to the facts it was. "As I was saying earlier, I haven't memorized the entire book. But while flipping through the pages on my way back down here, I came across something interesting on page 132."

Without a word, Snape moved to flip to the mentioned page, and his frown melted away as he read over the text. However it returned once he reached the next page, and Robin hoped she hadn't suggested something entirely stupid and unrelated. Only once he'd read all three pages of related information, he finally looked back up at Robin. "Have you read the entire instructions?"

"Well, I hardly had enough time for that on my jog back here." She shrugged. "I read the description of the functionality, not the instructions or additional information."

He looked minorly surprised at that. "And that sufficed for you to believe that it might be of use?"

"I suggested it because it looked promising." She corrected. "One has to start somewhere. If it's rubbish, we at least know what we're NOT looking for."

"Interesting approach." He mused, and Robin felt momentarily stunned by how close that comment had gotten to an actual compliment. "I believe you discovered something that might very well be worth a try."

"But… maybe we should look through the rest of the book as well? Maybe there's another spell that fits even better?"

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes without any annoyance in them, and went to flip to about the middle of the book. "Up to which point do you sincerely remember the contents?"

"The last page I can remember for sure was about… repairing broken spines… it had a very peculiar picture in the top right corner. Somewhere in the 70s or 80s…" She sighed and gave him an apologetic half smile. "I always remember the contents and the layout better than the page numbers."

After a few seconds of flipping through pages, Snape pointed to the page Robin had described. "This one?"

"Yes! Page 78… I wasn't too far off then." She smiled to herself for a moment. "Up to that one I remember what every spell was about."

"Good." He merely said and started scanning every page from that point on. Seems like Snape put an odd lot of confidence in Robin's memory… but she really was certain about the contents up to that point. It was all very basic, short-term restoration and spells for every-day practical use. The one about broken spines on page 78 was the first one that was a bit more complicated and unusual in its use, and that is the only reason why Robin had remembered it. It was the first one she didn't care to remember.

For a moment Robin watched Snape reading, but then she felt stupid looking over his shoulder, even if only figuratively. He could assess these spells way better than she could, and if he found something suitable for the occasion he would probably show it to her. Maybe.

With a silent sigh she let her eyes travel over the almost empty room. It was an odd perspective to be looking out over the class from this side of his desk… but one could really see almost everything from here. Everything, happening in front of you. Nothing in your back. Yeah, Robin felt comfortable sitting here. Then she studied the desk itself, along with the few things on it. Perfectly organized chaos, as always… but for once she actually understood the system behind it, which pleased her quite a bit. She'd happily trade desks with him any day, and that even though she couldn't even imagine switching seats with someone in class. She'd been sitting in the same spots in each of the classrooms for over two years now… and she doubted that she'd ever willingly sit elsewhere. The great hall however was a different issue, she'd never had a specific seat there, so she was fine with switching tables in there. But this was a classroom, and she felt oddly comfortable in a space that wasn't her own. Huh…

Her eyes then fell upon the mysterious tome this entire fuss was about in the first place, and she was grabbed by curiosity. "May I… take a look at the book we aren't currently working with?" She inquired carefully, prepared to be right about being denied but equally prepared to be surprised.

"Be careful, it is… delicate." While delicate didn't seem like the word he had wanted to say, and she got a decent idea about why he didn't speak his mind once she heard David quietly groaning over his essay, Robin still understood the sentiment. This book was important, somehow. So she gave him a small nod with a sincere and serious expression, before she carefully moved the heavy thing over to her end of the desk.

The first few pages looked decent enough; there were handwritten descriptions of spells, some strange symbols and drawings… nothing that stood out in particular. But once Robin had actually read a few pages, she couldn't help the deep frown that creased her forehead. "This is absolute gibberish! It may look valid, but anyone who spends at least a little time studying this book would realize that these aren't even workable spells."

Now that got Snape's attention immediately, and seeing as he had finished skimming over Robin's book anyway, he turned his attention towards her entirety. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"You see… for once, the actual words for the spells aren't even given. Not one single time! I mean alright, one could argue that the book is meant for wizards so advanced that they don't need words. You know… people like you." She regretted saying that the moment it was out. But maybe he would overlook the accidental compliment if she just continued. "However, what definitely strikes me as odd and leads me to the conclusion that this isn't even meant as a proper spell book is the technical terms used throughout the descriptions, as well as the names of the people mentioned."

Now he definitely looked curious, deeply intrigued to be exact, and even people who weren't practiced in reading his microexpressions would be able to see that. "What, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

"I'll gladly tell you in a moment, but just answer me one question first, please… because otherwise I'll feel really stupid in my assumption." Robin said quietly, not because she felt insecure, but because she couldn't have David hear this in case she made a fool out of herself. "When do you think this book was written?"

"I assume the manuscript itself is from the second half of the 16th century, but it was obviously rebound several times up to this point, which makes the binding by far younger."

"Okay. Okay…" Robin nodded to herself for a few seconds as her brain tried to make a coherent line out of the many different strings of thought in her mind. Then her eyes lit up as she started to explain. "So, the thing is: most of the terms, all the ones I know at least, are directly taken out of Renaissance culture. It's a colorful mixture of philosophy, architecture, literature, music… And the names, I recognize them from this time period as well. But they all have nothing to do with magic, not even the slightest bit. It's like… putting numbers into the alphabet!"

Snape seemed genuinely interested in what Robin was saying, and he looked up from the book to meet her eyes. "How exactly did you come to know Renaissance culture?"

"I had a lot of time two summers ago and attended some classes. At a muggle university. I know, not very appropriate for a Slytherin, but oh well… I was horribly bored. To be honest, I had already forgotten most of the things I learned, but reading these names and terms now definitely brings back a lot of it. I mean, I at least know that they're things from the Renaissance." She shrugged with one shoulder, as she felt like the biggest nerd in history and yet the biggest failure for having forgotten most of those classes already. "Anyway, if the manuscript was written in the 16th century, that would explain the Renaissance influence. Now, I do have some more… theories, about the book. But I wouldn't want to bore you, sir, I'm sure you already know all of this and I'm just… babbling. Sorry."

"In fact, I was previously unaware of this connection to muggle history and culture, and I dare say I would not have learned about it without your babbling. So please, do enlighten me about your theories." He said calmly, giving her one of those still entirely unreadable looks. "You have my fullest attention."

"Well…" Heat rose to Robin's cheeks once again, and she couldn't quite believe that she had discovered something he hadn't yet noticed. "The book is basically a spell book written with muggle terms… and it surely requires extensive knowledge of both worlds to write something like this. So my first assumption is that the author was a half blood… or a muggle born. But it doesn't matter, actually. The thing about knowing both worlds really leads me to believe that the author knew what they were talking about, and thus the gibberish was intentional gibberish. And if the gibberish is intentional, it makes me wonder what the intention of this book is in the first place. You say a page is missing… What if the entire book was merely created to hide that one page?"

Going by the look Snape was giving her once she had finished her sentence, Robin had just said the dumbest thing in the existence of nonsense. Great. Insecurity finally showed on her face as she still held his gaze. She just wanted to help him, to solve this mystery…

"I agree." That was what he finally replied, before briefly gazing at the still working David and then looking back at Robin. "Your theses… will serve as a decent basis for any further efforts."

What?! He thought she was right?! Robin's lips curved up into a small smile. "Uh, if I may ask, sir… did you find a spell for restoring the page? If it really is the sole purpose of the book to hide whatever is written on it, I'm actually even more curious to know what its secret is."

"Likewise." He mused, quietly enough so that Robin could barely pick up on it, but then he spoke up in a normal voice. "I still consider the method you suggested the most suitable." Upon Robin's frown, he added, "Page 132."

"Ah… Maybe I should consider reading the entire thing then." She smiled and carefully closed his book, while switching its place with her own book on the desk. Only then a thought caused her heart to sink in an instant. "I mean… you surely only asked for my assistance in this because I have literature spells in my possession. I… could lend the book to you, if you'd like that."

"Indeed, my intention was to borrow this particular book from you." He said with the gravest expression he had worn all night, and Robin found her heart hollowing out even more. Of course he wouldn't want her to actually partake in any of this… she'd merely been lucky to be included up to this point. But… it was hard to let go of such a great mystery. Of the illusion to be useful, the illusion to do something important for once. That was until he spoke on. "However I cannot deny the fact that you improved my understanding of this book immensely. And… neither can I deny that you are the most reliable assistance I have. Could you imagine yourself to-..."

"Yes." Robin cut in before he could even finish his sentence. "I… sorry for interrupting, but I would very much like to keep assisting you."

She actually got a not-smirk in return. "In that case, I suggest you to read those three pages now."

With a nod, Robin picked up the book and leaned back in her chair while flipping to the correct page. She wouldn't allow herself to get all too excited about this… she was, but this situation required a certain professionalism, and she would do her best to display that now. It didn't take her long to read the three pages, twice even.

"It's… a potion?!" She finally stated with an incredulous expression. "That's weird…"

"Why do you think it is a potion instead of a spell?" He asked then, but this was a professor-question, not a Snape-question.

"Well, seeing as you said a simple restoration spell wouldn't work, it certainly has something to do with the fact that spells aren't strong enough to counter or reverse the magic used to remove the page in the first place. The magical properties of various ingredients combined in a potion however should be strong enough for that." Robin replied without thinking much about it, and placed the book back on the desk with a shrug.

"Good." He looked fairly pleased with her reply, which pleased Robin in return. "You have studied the list of ingredients required for this task, yes?"

"Yeah, I've studied the entire procedure. Twice."

"There are… a few required ingredients I currently do not have in my possession." He kept it vague, eyes flicking to David for a second before returning to Robin. She understood. "We have to get our hands on those first, before we can start on the potion. You are aware of the time it will take to prepare the procedure?"

"Yes. I am." She stated in determination. "No problem with that." The potion would take two months to make… honestly, if anything, she was sad that it wouldn't take longer. Who knew if Snape would ever allow her to help with something again once this was over?

Before either of them could continue, they heard a quiet snoring coming from the Slytherin boy, who had literally fallen asleep over his essay. Robin snorted, and Snape rolled his eyes in return.

"I truly cannot say Minerva could have picked a worse time to drop him off with me." He muttered, grabbed a random journal off the stack at his end of the desk, and then rose to his feet to walk over to the sleeping David. With an unforgiving glare, he smacked the boy in the head with the journal. "This is detention and not your bedroom, Mister Thompson."

"I-I'm sorry, sir…" David immediately brought out as he startled awake, frightened eyes looking up at his professor.

"Seeing as it is well after midnight, you may leave for now. However I expect you to return right to this spot after breakfast."

"Yes, sir…" David sighed in defeat as he rose to his feet, and jumped once Snape snatched the essay from his hands. "Goodnight, sir…" With that, he shot one quick look at Robin before scurrying out of the classroom.

"I hate that child." Snape muttered as he returned to his desk, and Robin couldn't help laughing at the dry honesty. She really couldn't agree more… but she knew it wasn't her place to comment on it.

"So, where will you get the missing ingredients?" Robin asked instead, while he sat back down. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Seeing as I will be stuck with Mister Thompson for the entire weekend, I would highly appreciate if you could indeed… run a few errands."

"Yes, of course! What do you need me to do?"

"Tomorrow is the fourth Saturday of the term, correct?"

"Yes?"

"That means you will get to go to Hogsmeade for the first time, and I ask of you to go indeed. There is a small shop that sells various ingredients for rare potions to anyone who pays enough, off high street obviously. A black building with a golden inscription over the door. I would like you to go there tomorrow. Follow the second alley going to the right off high street to its end, then turn left and you should come across the shop after a minute's walk." With that he turned to face the desk rather than Robin and got out a snippet of parchment to scribble a quick list on it. Then he handed the paper to Robin. "If I'm not mistaken, you should be able to get all of this in Hogsmeade. Tell the man in the shop that I sent you, and you shouldn't be refused nor expected to pay straight up."

"I will do my best, sir." She answered with what she hoped was a positive expression of professionalism and not an overly excited smile. Going to Hogsmeade hadn't really been on her agenda up until this point, but it also wasn't like she had any other plans for tomorrow. After all, she still was only too glad to get to help with this entire mystery. Surely running errands for him would be better than whatever she would've come up with, for nothing that had to do with the potions professor was ever short of interesting in the first place.

"Certainly I do not have to tell you that this entire endeavour is to be kept between you and me. Furthermore I expect you to take your involvement in this as seriously as I do."

"Of course I take this seriously!" Robin gave him an incredulous look that probably let on a bit too much of her hurt expression along with it. "Have I ever given you a reason to doubt that I'm absolutely serious about my work and studies?"

"No." His reply came fast and with certainty. "I am well aware of your dedication for all matters you concern yourself with. However you ought to know that in my terms there is no casual participation. I take your involvement as seriously as my own, and I expect you to do the same."

"You're my professor, of course I take you seriously!" Robin still didn't quite get what he was aiming at. Maybe she should consider going to bed soon… her brain was getting slow.

"Not me, Mitchell!" He rolled his eyes in that exaggerated annoyance once more. "You have to take yourself seriously! I do not have the time or nerve to listen to a self-deprecating speech every time before you voice a thought of yours. Speak your mind and I… will refrain from scolding you, should your comment be redundant."

"Promise you won't yell at me when I say something stupid?" Robin inquired carefully, even though she finally grasped where he was coming from with that statement. Actually, it was rather nice what he was saying. He took her seriously, and demanded for her to be in this completely or not at all. That's really all Robin could've hoped for.

"I do not make promises." Snape answered with a frown as he leaned back in his chair. "But I tell you now that I will not yell at you unless it is absolutely necessary."

"Good enough for me." Robin smiled ever so slightly, feeling both incredibly excited for this private project but also incredibly worried that she will somehow screw it up and make him regret that he put enough trust in her to allow her to assist in the first place. Well, she would just have to be better. Better than she was now, and better than he expected her to be. Just… what did he expect of her to do, exactly? For now, running errands. She wouldn't let him down right on the very first task (nor on any other, actually).

"You look exhausted." He stated then, perfect indifference with a hint of a sigh. "You should go to bed. There isn't any more to be done until tomorrow anyway."

"Yes, sir." With a small sigh she got up and made her way over to her backpack on her own desk, grabbing it on the go as she continued towards the door. Really, she was indeed exhausted and doing herself a favor rather than following his order by heading to bed now…

"Your book, Miss Mitchell." His voice stopped her a few steps away from the door, and Robin turned around to him once again.

"You should keep it for now… with the other book I mean. Isn't that what you would prefer anyway?"

"It is indeed." The not-smirk was back, and so was the lifted eyebrow. "I should assume this is more than fair after lending books to you for two years."

"It surely is." Robin smiled, tiredly, but sincerely nonetheless. "Goodnight, professor."

"Miss Mitchell?" Again, his voice stopped her just before she could open the door, making her turn to him yet again with a question on her face. He spoke on before she could voice it. "Hogsmeade certainly isn't a dangerous place by any means, but since students are rarely seen venturing off high street, I would still advise you to be careful when going to that shop tomorrow."

While he looked perfectly indifferent in that statement, rising to his feet and gathering up the two books from his desk with an expression of utter boredom, the very attempt to hide anything from his face that could have given off the impression of concern or care actually was what gave him away. Just having noticed that made Robin's smile brighten inevitably.

"I will be careful. No need to worry about your precious ingredients." She couldn't help adding that second sentence with a small smirk, and upon receiving a small glare and a not-smirk in return, Robin finally made her way back to her dorm.

… … …

If Robin had felt like she was anything more than just a third year student last night, Saturday morning definitely had every intention to put her back into her place.

First, she had decided to actually make somewhat of an effort in terms of dressing for being errand-girl today (seeing as she hadn't forgotten what Snape had said about her representing the Slytherin house and his own person), and thus she'd ended up with the same old, large and black turtleneck jumper she fancied, tugged into some blackish drainpipe jeans and kept in place by a black belt with an admittedly very scratched silver buckle. Oh well… concessions had to be made. Her mom always said black was classy and staid… and while Robin didn't agree on the 'staid' part, she still wanted to appear classy today.

Her choice of wardrobe however led to the first instance that tried to put her back into her place, namely her fellow students, who didn't cease to make comments from joking to mocking to insulting during breakfast. Well, in comparison to the other third years, with their colorful shirts, patterned dresses and generally average thirteen-year-old style of clothing, she did stand out a lot. Robin looked quite a lot more like some of the sixth or seventh years, if anything… But she suffered through the comments in silence on the outside, and just a hint of doubt and shame on the inside. Maybe she should make an effort to fit in more… but then she looked at everyone again, seriously, and the thought flew out of her mind to never be considered again. Nope, not gonna happen.

After breakfast, the real issues began. Equipped with her trusty leather backpack that was (as always) stuffed with anything she could possibly need, ranging from parchment and books over snacks to a rain jacket, and of course the list of ingredients she was to acquire, Robin stepped out into the courtyard in sincere appreciation of the dark grey clouds in the sky. Way better than sunshine… that only ever made her eyes hurt.

"And where's your permission slip, Miss Mitchell?" McGonagall asked then, eyebrows risen and clearly expecting something Robin wasn't sure about.

"My… what?" Thus came her very eloquent reply.

"The permission slip signed by your parents for this instance? Allowing you to leave the castle grounds in groups of at least three students to go to Hogsmeade?" McGonagall prompted again, and a new existential dread overcame Robin upon the professor's words. Fuck.

"I… I didn't think to let them sign it. I… thought it was more one of those 'for your notice' kind of things." She replied in a faintest hope to somehow fix this situation. "I mean, I traveled the entire country of England by myself over summer! Well, not the entire country, obviously, but I traveled by myself, alone, WITH their explicit permission. They would probably laugh at me if I asked them for permission to go on a fifteen minute walk away from home now!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Mitchell, but rules are rules."

"But that's ridiculous!" Robin couldn't help the exasperated sigh, nor the inevitable rolling of her eyes, as she threw her head into her neck to angrily glare at the sky.

"I do not make the rules, but I'm still obliged to follow them. As are you." The professor pointed out, then added a bit more kindly, "If you are so certain that they will allow you to venture out on your own, you can always send them a letter before the next Hogsmeade Saturday in two weeks and have them sign their permission."

An idea sprung to Robin's mind immediately, born both of McGonagall's words and her own refusal to accept her fate. "So it does not have to be the specific slip given to us before term, but a handwritten approval would suffice?"

"In my eyes, yes." The professor frowned. "However I…" Her voice trailed off as she watched how Robin took off her backpack and dug her arm into it to the shoulder.

Upon seeing the professor's astonishment, Robin merely said, "Extension charm… helps with carrying the books." Then she took out a piece of parchment and a ballpoint pen she usually didn't use for Hogwarts business, and wrote a quick note. It read: 'Hereby we allow our daughter Robin Mitchell to leave the castle grounds in groups OR by herself at any time not officially prohibited by the school rules.' Then Robin handed the paper to McGonagall.

"If my parents sign this, would it suffice for me to be allowed to leave the school grounds also by myself whenever we are officially allowed to go to Hogsmeade?" She asked the still astonished professor, and put her stationery back into the bag while waiting for an answer.

"Usually students simply break this rule instead of asking for permission. It merely applies to third years anyway, to ensure they get used to the new freedom before abusing it." McGonagall finally replied with a doubtful expression.

"Well, I'd rather change the rules to fit my needs than break them, to be honest." Robin shrugged. "That's usually less stressful for everyone."

Now McGonagall straight out looked incredulous and yet undoubtedly humored. "In that case, if you get your parents to sign this piece of writing, then yes, you may go on your own this year as well."

A smile spread on Robin's lips. Part one of her plan had worked, at least. "Great. Where can I find you in approximately twenty minutes, professor?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you are plotting, Miss Mitchell, but I can assure you no owl will be that quick."

"I'm not planning on using an owl, professor… I'm planning on bribing a house elf." Robin replied with a hint of mischief in her tone that even she could hear herself. "They are very nice, actually, if one is respectful and kind. And as far as I know, there is no rule against asking them for a favor."

"Indeed there isn't… However they are not a replacement for owls in any way."

"I have no intention to make them do anything they don't want to, which is not to say that I could in the first place. But I think I can offer them something in return that may convince them to do me this one favor." After a few seconds of silence, Robin added, "Please, professor… I really need to go to Hogsmeade today. And seeing as the only thing holding me back currently is a missing signature from my dad, I have come up with a perfectly by-the-rules plan to get you just that. Just because it's not commonly done this way doesn't mean it's any less legitimate."

"You certainly are creative in your sheer determination to make it to Hogsmeade today." McGonagall sighed. "I'm heading to the teacher's lounge now, should your efforts lead to the desired result."

"Thank you." Robin gave the professor a bright smile, then made her way towards the kitchens as fast as she could without running. This had to work… she would not stop even one second before those damned ingredients were on Snape's desk.

It took Robin a good ten minutes to convince her favorite house elf, who she had gone to for chocolate cake in the middle of the night more often than she liked to admit, to do her this favor. Not because the female elf (whose name Robin had learned to be Buttercup) would've refused Robin, she'd never do that, but because Robin had to convince her to accept a bar of Twirls in return. Finally, after explaining the advantages and necessity of fair trading to the entirety of the kitchen staff, Robin could get the young elf to accept the trade. Five minutes later, after apparating from the Hogwarts kitchens to Robin's family home in Oxford and back again, Buttercup happily exchanged the now signed permission slip for the chocolate bars Robin was handing her. Really, bless the house elves for being able to apparate in and out of Hogwarts, and bless Robin's brain for remembering that at such a convenient time.

After saying thank you and making sure Buttercup actually liked Twirls, Robin was on her way to the teacher's lounge in an instant. For once a plan of hers was actually working out the way it was supposed to, and honestly the feeling of success sufficed to gather up enough confidence to knock on the door and ask for McGonagall. The professor didn't actually seem all too surprised anymore when Robin handed her the now signed note, and without further ado she allowed Robin to head to Hogsmeade at last. If Robin wasn't mistaken, she even saw McGonagall smile in amusement for a brief moment when she finally turned to leave.

______________________________

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unnamedelement · 3 years

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even the WORDS studio ghibli steampunk inspired 4th age au is intriguing to me - I’d love to hear more about it!

I am so pleased you asked and I will talk about it forever. Basically, the idea is just something I write on--a paragraph or two here or there--when I'm feeling down and need a pick-me-up, though I haven't done so since May now as I've been so busy! It's set in a 4th Age Middle-earth in which all the basic things are the same, except that the technology advanced slightly differently, as if every major cultural and intellectual hub in history hadn't been wiped out in the first two ages. I mean, they have been, but the ideas were revisited and propagated instead. Which puts us in a bit of a steam era, a bit more modern warfare, I suppose (I imagine it as, like, Legend of Korra equivalent technology, but subtracting the radio broadcasting). I call it Studio Ghibli inspired because, in my head, thats the way its "animated," with similar color palettes to, say, Howls' Moving Castle, My Neighbor Totoro, and Spirited Away. The same sort of observational attention to detail, but not overwrought, and an air of the magical in the every day... It's really just a domestic sort of thing, with an added twist of the Straight Road being shut for purposes that aren't entirely clear to me yet but, somehow, tie into the technological aspect. It, at least, explains to me why the elves are so goddamn committed to technology and Middle-earth in the 4th age, in this universe, in a way that aren't in non-AUs because, well, Tolkien. The lore of this ridiculous sandbox is only very slowly evolving, but giving elves unresolvable sealonging is a certain type of hurt/comfort that is highly attractive to me. Whoops. And it is Legolas- and OC-focused, of course, because that's just who I am as a person. There is also a university in Minas Tirith because I say so, and because I need to project my woes about academia somewhere, but I try to justify this to myself by tying it into that preservation and propogation of knowledge aspect. Anyway, that was way more than you asked for! Ah well. Here is the first scene I ever wrote in this AU, because I've never actually shared it publicly, I don't think. I believe @roselightfairy has been the only one privy to my nonsensical AU drafts thus far! I usually just ramble about it in tags, but you caught me this time, ha. Thanks again for asking!

Legolas twisted the ring on his index finger distractedly as he waited for the train. It had been a long day in Minas Tirith and he was ready to return to Ithilien, to take in the rolling plains that edged the river as they flew past, for it was always only then that he could reflect, in uninterrupted silence, without hobbit tourists at his heels or the accidental shove of an impatient lady in the shops.

There were too many people in Minas Tirith for Legolas. Accordingly, and much to Aragorn and Gimli’s chagrin, it was not his favorite place.

But they understood, and that was all he could ask. He tried to schedule all of the city errands on the same day or two, because longer than thirty-six continuous hours in Minas Tirith and he became an absolute nightmare with which to coexist. For the most part, his friends and family had accepted this and he was trying, after all, but that did not make it any less obnoxious for the rest of them.

It did not help that the only place in Gondor with Sealonging-certified healers was on the fourth level of the city. A wildly insensitive choice, in his opinion, though he kept that perspective well enough to himself after Ithildim and Gimli had tried to advocate, a few years before, for the relocation of the clinic to the Healing Houses on the Sixth, in a string of rejected proposals at City Council.

Gimli would not look at Aragorn for a month after that, and so Legolas had quit his whingeing and suffered in silence the abrupt buffeting that occurred in the busy streets after his appointments. He made it his own prerogative to schedule at the end of the day so he could spend the morning with enough wherewithal to do his errands and take care of whatever sundry things he had managed to commit himself to. It kept him relatively sane and it kept his friends on speaking terms and, so, that is what he did. (And it was not as if any of them had control over the West-way being shut, so there was no point in any of them falling out over it.)

Legolas heard the heavy-huffing of the train approaching long before its lights rounded the bend of the river. He preferred to walk to the stop at the Docks than get on at the Gates because it gave his mind time to settle. Waiting that close to the river after therapy was, perhaps, not his brightest idea, but the pros outweighed the cons and what Ithildim didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Besides, it was Summer, and the cattails were up again all around the station, and a family of osprey had made the light pole by the river their nest, and it did lift his spirits to watch these things alone as the world moved on about him...

A few more people rushed the small platform as the rumbling of the train on its little steel bridge above the banks increased. Legolas only readjusted his ring, unbuckled the satchel in his lap and rummaged around for the hardtack he had bartered for Ewessel. (She would have no idea how many pieces were there originally—what she didn’t know also wouldn’t hurt her). He was just tugging on the pair of oversized leather earmuffs Gimli had given him a few years prior when he started taking the train routinely when two pairs of very familiar shoes suddenly appeared in his line of sight, and he froze—

There was no point in hurrying—he had been found out so he adjusted his earmuffs and tucked the hardtack into his cheek, noticing vaguely that the sturdier pair of boots were well-shined and dirtless, while the more slender, elvish ones were caked in mud along the edges and splashed up the shins.

He had thought Ithildim was in the Emyn Arnen buildings today. He had seen him head off that way through the trees and he had obviously been there for that was forest mud and yet here he stood with Gimli, clearly just come from their Minas Tirith office so...

He had apparently been wrong. It would not be the first time he had lost track of other people’s schedules.

The train rolled up slowly, then, and Legolas finally looked up from his seat on the bench to find Gimli at eye level—glaring at him with arms crossed—and then, looking further up, was Ithildim—hair neatly pinned back despite his other uncharacteristic untidiness—and he looked down on him with a bemused and mildly irritated expression.

Legolas did his best to offer a guileless smile.

It did not work, and Ithildim pulled him to his feet. “I thought your appointment was at 4(?), auren.”

“It was,” he said, and he shrugged. He was tired and did not want to talk yet. “I prefer walking the plains for an hour or so after, to calm my mind. I did not know you would be here.”

“You do this every time?” Ithildim asked with eyebrows raised, and then Gimli was chivvying them forward as the train doors opened and the inward-bound commuters poured out and the outward-bound ones moved forward.

“I did not know you would be here,” Legolas only said, shrugging, as they found a small table in the back of the car and piled around it.

Ithildim opened his mouth to ask again but Gimli interrupted—

“That is answer enough, Ithildim,” he said softly. “Leave him be, hm?”

“But—”

“He is always back to himself by the time he gets home, is he not? Let him do what he needs to do. He is his own keeper, Ithildim.”

Legolas was no longer watching them, and he instead stared out the window as the train moved forward and he was rocked slightly as it picked up speed. He did not notice the sound of a crinkling bag or the half sandwich Gimli slid in front of him. He did not notice Ithildim watching him wearily but intermittently as he arranged his notes on the small table, comparing a neat chart to x’s drawn on a map spread across its surface.

Outside, the sun was dipping dark but his mind was far away, and his mouth felt dry as he finally blinked and turned away from the flashing landscape.

Gimli had placed a reassuring hand by his thigh as he leaned over Ithildim’s map, and Ithildim was watching him unashamedly, silver eyes narrowed as Legolas glanced at him.

He pulled a travel mug from his backpack and handed it across the table to him.

“I take medicine for this now, you know,” Legolas said quietly, and he considered the coffee and tilted his head, waiting for Ithildim’s reply.

“I know,” he said immediately. “But you have that look in your eye that you get when…”

“Ithildim, he is his own keeper,” Gimli interrupted firmly, and Ithildim looked away. “That being said, Master Elf, it is summer again—“

“I know that—“

“—and the weather folks are predicting a mighty storm this week, which is probably why you are like this.”

Legolas picked up the coffee without a word and reluctantly drank it, and he twisted his ring again as Gimli continued:

“I’ve told Aragorn again and again that he would be much better served employing you lot for storm prediction than the fellows he has but…” he trailed off, and Legolas smiled.

“But he thinks it is unethical to use a bunch of Sea-longing elves for the protection of king and country, yes,” Legolas finished. “Honestly, those of us who are afflicted are going to suffer whether or not he consults us, so I’ve never understood his reticence.”

Ithildim looked up again and was finally smiling. “You are a bit like a barometer, in that,” he admitted. “Gimli has a point here.”

Legolas laughed. “So, what? We wait until I become uncommunicative and morose and a general pain to be around, and then we send Aragorn a warning letter? What, set smoke signals?”

“This is our stop,” Gimli was saying as he folded up Ithildim’s map and notes and shoved them into his hands. He stood up and gestured at the elves to join him. “Normal people would use the message systems, Legolas, but since you refuse to—”

“Really, Gimli?” Ithildim had pulled Legolas to his feet and was dragging him by the hand out the door. The wind was heavy beneath the eaves of the trees that overhung their stop. “We are lucky he only uses birds. Otherwise it would be constant updates about the exchange rate of rye, or flash-pictures of bread, or flowery descriptions of some lady he met in the gardens!”

As they started down the side path to the houses they shared with Saida and the children Legolas laughed again. “It is mushrooms I am fascinated with right now, Ithildim. It is painfully obvious sometimes that you do not listen when I speak.”

“Mushrooms?” he asked, turning to Gimli.

“That is his current passion project, yes. Have you not been in the downstairs bathroom recently?”

“Thank you, elvellon. I am so relieved someone listens to me.”

“Eru, Legolas, you know the downstairs bathroom is supposed to be for Ewessel so she doesn’t slow anyone else down in the mornings.”

Legolas had walked past them now and was several feet ahead as the main house came into sight. He shrugged and turned, walking backward. “It was her idea, Ithildim. You can take it up with her. I am in her good graces now, and I am not playing with the fire of adolescence to tell her no on your behalf.”

Gimli was laughing now and then Legolas had turned and took off toward the house. By the time they arrived a few minutes later, the lights had all been turned on or lit and Legolas was at the kitchen table with Ewessel herself, helping her with her schoolwork.

He barely looked up as they entered. “Stew on the stove,” he said quietly, and Ithildim sighed to hear the distance in his voice.

The door swung in again as Saida came in with Alfirinion at her heels—

“Smells like rain,” she announced as she slipped off her shoes and dropped her bag to the ground.

Alfirinion was just unloading his bag and armful of books onto the table inside the door when the house shook with a loud crash of thunder, and the building sound of rain—gentle to pounding and persistent—began to beat at the house.

Ewessel looked at Legolas, who had gone still beside her, and turned to her family. “I have known for days it would rain tonight. He is better than any weather report, if you are paying attention.”

“Ewessel,” Saida said with quiet admonishment, and she walked up and pressed a kiss to her niece’s forehead before settling down beside Legolas. “How about an early night?” she said to him quietly. “We can talk about our project tomorrow evening.”

Legolas cleared his throat and looked at his hands. “Yes, I think that would be good. The table isn’t…”

“Ewessel will set the table, won’t she?” Saida said lightly, and Ewessel closed her ledger and sprang to her feet. The dining room and kitchen were suddenly in motion and Legolas sat silent in his seat, until he dropped his head, defeated, into his hands, waiting for the sound of the rain to stop sounding like the crashing of waves at the shore.

“Tell us next time you notice, child,” he could hear Saida saying from the stove, and there was muttering under breath before Ewessel and Alfirinion were back in the room, placing a bowl at each seat.

There was the scraping of chairs around him, and then the feel of a cool glass pressed against his hand.

“It is just water, Legolas,” Ithildim was saying at his shoulder. “Drink, auren. The wide world is still here.”

And so he drank and ate and listened to his friends talk.

Alfirinion had had an argument with a peer at Rangers (though he had won, because debate team and shadowing Arwen over the summer had apparently paid off), and Ewessel was displeased no one wanted to see her forestry project (which, to be fair, was a log covered in mushrooms she had taken from Legolas’ project in the bathroom, so no one was particularly empathetic). Saida had made progress on curriculum redesign in her department at the main university, and Gimli and Ithildim had gotten clearance to start a project they were partnering on, to bring heated, running water to a new town outside Osgiliath.

Legolas, however, had only made stew. Had run errands for the family and for his business. Had gone to his appointment. Had lost himself to the wind and left his family fumbling.

But the stew was, at least, enjoyed, and that was better than nothing...

After dinner, everyone gathered in the sitting room to listen to Alfirinion practice his closing arguments for his competition and, eventually, Legolas fell asleep between Ithildim and Gimli on the couch. The last thing he was aware of was someone slipping headphones over his ears and dropping the needle on the phonograph so his senses were flooded with crackling birdsong, and then there was a blanket about his shoulders, and he was gone.

#nerysvevo #asks #my au #my fanfiction #this fic has accidentally gotten a plot tho which made me mad #because i was writing it to be comforting #but it is fun #and i wish i had the art skills to illustrate it #because it is absolutely and unbelievably a beautiful little world in my head!#long post #sry

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #349

“we’ll meet again, when both our cars collide”

When was the last time you had a PopTart? It's been many, many months. Do you like hot chocolate? Well duh. Who made you laugh the hardest today? I haven't really laughed today. Who was the last person to promise you something, and what was it? Hmph. Would you ever jump into a fire to save your bestfriend? I know I would. Do you have a callus from writing too much? No, I only have calluses on my feet from when I used to walk for hours on end. They just never permanently went away, even with grooming. Who is someone you’ve made a bad first impression on? I dread to guess what the girl Jason dated after me was told about me. I shouldn't care at all, but I do. I have every reason to accurately be defined as "the crazy ex," and I fucking hate it. Who is your best guy friend? Girt, a friend from high school. Do you read cereal boxes while you’re eating? I did as a kid, but now I don't. I just kinda stand and eat. What’s the last thing you accidentally (or purposely) burnt? I kinda burnt the roof of my mouth on pizza the other night. Do you know anyone with a lip piercing? Me, haha. I know others, too. What did the last tattoo you saw, look like? I don't remember. Have you ever given birth? NO FUCKING THANK YOU. Do you enjoy making out? I mean if I'm in the mood to and I love you, yeah. Why exactly do you take surveys? "I genuinely like doing them and they’re great for venting and sorting out thoughts and whatnot. I can just ramble and get things off my chest." <<<< This right here covers it. As well, it's just a boredom killer. And I happen to be bored very, very often. Rockband or Gutair Hero? Both are great, why choose just one? What are you listening to right now? Halocene's cover of "Helena" by My Chemical Romance. It's beautiful. What kind of energy drinks do you drink, if any? None, because I just can't do energy drinks. They taste like pure poison to me. Have you ever been swimming in a river? No. Swimming in a river sounds pretty dangerous... Does your alarm clock wake you with music, or with an annoying buzz sound? Music. When you broke stuff in the house as a child, did you blame it on siblings? I'm hoping you don't mean breaking deliberately, 'cuz I wasn't that kind of kid. But anyway, I don't believe I did. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes. I was obSESSED with those games as a kid. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Which one are you more scared of? Tigers, probably. They're so stealthy and, while I may be entirely wrong, seem like the top candidate of the three to attack a human, be it for food or defense. And have you SEEN the muscles on a tiger? Christ. Describe the best use that you’ve found for duct tape: Uh, taping things lmao. Do you wrap gifts or use gift bags? I use gift bags, because I can't wrap for shit. What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? Arby's is really gross to me. Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? Just giant squid... *shudders* Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? No. I did, however, purchase something on deviantART and never got the product. It was going to be a present for Jason. In dA's defense though, I've bought like... two or three other things from there, and there were zero issues. It's really about the people you trust. If you get a call that says “Unknown”, do you answer it? Nnnnope. Do you have any bobble head figures? No. Have your parents ever left you somewhere without realizing it? I don't think so. Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. Did your last kiss mean anything to you? Well yeah, I wouldn't have kissed her otherwise. Would you say that you have a nice smile? No; I've been self-conscious of it since I was a kid, mostly because one of my eyes looks more squinty than the other, but they both are to me. I've always said I look high when I smile lmao. Is there an ex you want to make up with? My mind immediately screams "Jason," but I know that's a horrendous idea. Our last talk ended peacefully and even with care and good wishes, and I need my fucking impenetrable head to accept that's where it needs to end. He does NOT need to re-enter my life. It would be so bad for me. Do you remember how you felt on 9/11? I have no memory of it, if I'm being honest. What outfit makes you feel the most attractive? None. Other than yourself, who knows you the best? Really? Whoever reads these lmao. What’s one complaint that you have about school? Common Core and how every student's school experience was not tailored towards their unique goals. Like they try to cram a shitload of identical and usually useless information into a kid's brain to make them a jack of all trades, you could say, but not enough information they need to properly pursue their career future. It causes such an unnecessary amount of frustration and stress. I have many, many complaints about the education system, but this one tops the list. What do you do while you’re on campus but not in class? Back in college, I would just do stuff on my laptop. Do you know anyone who has Autism/Asperger’s syndrome? Yes. Are you open to a same-sex relationship and why or why not? Well, considering I'm bisexual... Do you remember life without the internet? No. Have you ever found yourself to be ugly? I've gone my entire life thinking I'm ugly, if I'm being real. What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25 a fucking hour. :'''''') Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? There's a few people. What is your first memory of being in a hospital? Considering my mom worked at the local hospital when I was a kid, I remember being there quite, quite young, playing with my older sister in Mom's and her coworkers' room. I think Nicole was too young to really "play." Do you have any relatives with red hair? No. What is something good that has happened to you in the past week? I got my first Covid vaccine. My arm hurts like a motherfucker now, but to protect my mom, it's worth it. Please get vaccinated. How much was the rent/mortgage at the cheapest place you’ve ever lived? That's never been my business. Have you ever been to a gay pride parade? No, but I would go to a local one if I could actually walk five feet without being in serious pain and sweating like a pig. Do you still keep in touch with your very first best friend? We're friends on Facebook, but that's it. What was the topic of the last conversation you had with your dad? I can't remember, but it was recent, because we all met at Ashley's house for Nicole's birthday celebration. How often did you visit your grandparents when you were growing up? Pretty much never, given they all lived no less than like, 10 hours (via car) from where we lived. My immediate family are the only people in NC. When two family members are fighting, what do you usually do? Stay out of it, but admittedly try to listen just to know what's going on. Do you like the smell of men’s cologne? Yeah. What’s your all time FAVORITE freezer food? Do you eat that a lot? I survive off of microwaveable freezer food, so this is very hard... uhhhhh... perhaps this Banquet bowl meal that's mac 'n cheese with spicy chicken. It's absolutely delicious, like you'd never guess that sucker was just popped in the microwave. I'd say I eat it a moderate amount; it's a reliable option if Mom's not cooking and I'm really hungry, because it's super filling. Do you like documentaries? Have you ever watched one and find it boring? I enjoy them, particularly when they're about animals. Were you ever a fan of macaroni & cheese? Do you like Kraft dinner? Ha, speak of mac 'n cheese. I love it, and Kraft makes it fine. Do you burn incense? Not as much as I used to. I love the smell and just general vibe, though. What would you consider an unacceptable first date? Going to a bar or something. Have you ever been so sick you had to be taken to the hospital? In the head, anyway. Is there anything currently bothering you? Multiple things. Would you say that you’ve got something ‘special’ about you? No. Do you like things vampire-related? I don't really have an opinion on vampire stuff. Are you the kind of person who does not like talking about their past? I don't care. Have you ever been to a casino? No. What’s the last thing you wore a costume for besides Halloween related events? Back when I still took dance classes and we had the yearly recital. What does your father do for a living? He's a mailman. What’s the last app you downloaded on your phone? Haha, I re-downloaded this ollllldddd game I had before, Nyan Cat: Lost in Space (or something like that?) for my niece to play. She's hooked on it now. Are you in any discomfort right now? Yeah; as I mentioned, my arm really hurts. What do you know the most about? Of all things I know, almost certainly meerkats. Are you seeing anyone? No. Have you ever hooked back up with an ex, just for sex? Was it a mistake or no? No. Have you ever gotten in trouble for using a phone in class? No, because I didn't use my phone in class. Have you seen all the Shrek movies? No, which is a fucking crime. I need to see the last one. Have you ever finished a whole video game? Plenty plenty plenty. Do you know anyone with a pet snake? Yeah, myself included. If you had to live in an extreme environment — think Sahara, Antarctica, under the sea, on the Moon— where would you want to live? Why? Probably Antarctica. I'm sure it would be unpleasant, being that cold, but I feel there's more you can do about being cold than being in the scalding heat of, say, the Sahara. Living on the moon or in the deep ocean sounds super sucky. How was your day overall? It's been okay. Not as bored as usual, at least. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Like... zero. I want to say my dad, and I almost do, just... nightmares make that very, very difficult. Plus his past. What does your mom call you? Normally just "Britt." Write a sentence in another language: Oh god, my German is so rusty... uhhhh... Hallo, ich heiße Brittany, und ich bin 25 Jahre alt und wohne in North Carolina. I think I got the grammar right? Have you ever sent an X-Rated picture to someone? No. Even if I was comfortable with my body, I would be way too paranoid to at any point have a naked picture on my phone, even if I deleted it. Like, hello blackmail, but also, nothing you delete is ever really gone permanently. What big city do you live near? Raleigh is like an hour away. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? omg YES Is there a Sonic in your area? Yes, it's my favorite fast food joint. You have GOT to try the pretzel twists with cheese dip. Have you ever gone to a thrift store? Yeah, I love 'em. Do you think Johnny Depp is attractive? I do. Are you happy with the state you live in? No, not at all. I hate this place. Bunch of homophobic, racist rednecks. How many times have you seen the opposite sex naked? It's not like I counted every time I saw my ex naked over three and half years lmao. How many times have you seen the same sex naked? A few times. When days go by, do you cross them off on the calendar? I don't use a calendar. Are you currently counting down to something? If so, what? MY TATTOO APPOINTMENT!!!!! :''') I know I can't stop talking about it, but ugh I'm so excited. May 19th, c'mon already. Do you pay rent to your parents? No. Do you dye eggs for Easter? I used to as a kid. Not so much anymore. Are you in debt right now? For what? Oh god, I don't want to think of this. Would you ever work night crew? I really, really wouldn't want to. Humans are diurnal for a reason. Being awake in constant darkness would depress the fuck outta me, and it'd feel so lonely, with everyone I know asleep. Who was the last person that lied to you, or that you can recall lying to you? What did they lie about? How did you find out they were lying? I don't remember. Has anyone ever called you ugly, straight up, before? How did you react to this? No, not to my face. Who is the most stubborn person you know {excluding yourself}? MY MOTHER.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''helena'' by my chemical romance

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pearlll09 · 3 years

Text

About: Venaric Favellus

Tagged by @maraleestuff - thank you, but you only want me to pick one oc? aoudrdsjk I thought about it and decided to pull out one I’m currently writing/posting here even though it’s going really slow. So, here’s my Skyrim oc!

Name: Venaric Favellus

Alias: Oh no, he will introduce himself with his full name, and expects people to at least use his first name when addressing him. However, in his homeland, you might also hear people refer to him as the Master of Verse.

Gender: Male

Age: I’m gonna say mid 20s on this one

Species: Human (Imperial)

Zodiac: aquarius / aries / cancer / capricorn / gemini / leo / libra / pisces / sagittarius / scorpio / taurus / virgo / unknown (Does skyrim even have a zodiac system?)

Abilities/ Talents: If you haven’t guessed already from his outfit to his title, Venaric is, in fact, a bard. He is very skilled at any instrument, though he favorites the lute, and he is good at singing or reciting poetry, whichever the event may request. He is pretty skillful at magic as well, though sometimes he does find it hard to control, especially any lightning spell. Overtime, he is going to learn more skills, like proper sword fighting and even blacksmithing, but that’s all part of his character growth. Oh, and he can and absolutely will talk the pants off of anyone.

~ Personal ~

Alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true

Religion: Venaric worships Dibella, wearing her amulet wherever he goes (which he is not wearing in this screenshot because I haven’t found one in game yet). It is going to throw him through a loop though when he has to become a Nightingale.

Sins: Envy / Greed / Gluttony / Lust / Pride / Sloth / Wrath

Virtues: Charity / Chasity / Diligence / Humility / Justice / Kindness / Patience

Language(s): The common tongue of Tamriel, and whatever the Imperials speak (I’m not that well versed unfortunately)

Family: Oh that implies I’ve thought this far. If Venaric has any living family, he’s not very fond of them, as he doesn’t care how long he’s been away from home, and doesn’t care about visiting. However, he will have a found family! But I’ll save that for the next few sections.

Friends: For a bard to have friends... yeah, let’s just say he’ll socialize wherever he is, but because he’s usually moving from one place to another, he doesn’t really have friends. His first friendship bloomed begrudgingly because at first he didn’t care whether Lydia was with him or not but she followed him anyway and continued to follow him because she realized he really couldn’t take care of himself aosujkrd. He’s also friends with Marcurio for a while but I’ll save that bit for later too.

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual / Bi-Pansexual / Homosexual / Demisexual / Asexual / Unsure / Other

Relationship Status: Single / Dating / Married / Widowed / Open relationship / Divorced / Not ready for dating / It’s complicated

And here is where I tell you about Marcurio, his eventual husband. He became friends with him when he first made it to Riften (but I’m not telling you that story, that’s a fun part when I do get to write it) and Venaric will try to bed some other people (a lot of them are tavern owners or the children of, ironically) but he’ll keep coming back to Riften and basically flirt with Marcurio and Lydia is going to get very annoyed before eventually trying to play matchmaker.

Libido: Sex god / Very High / High / Average / Low / Very low / Non-existent

He’s a bard. I think that’s implied with most bards.

~ Physical ~

Build: Twig / Bony / Slender / Average / Athletic / Curvy / Chubby / Obese

Hair: White / Blonde / Brunette / Red / Black / Other - caramel brown/ blonde

Eyes: Brown / Blue-gray / Green / Black / Other

Skin: Pale / Fair / Olive / Light Brown / Brown / Very Brown / Other

Height: 5′6

Weight: 125

Scars: He is very proud of his lack of scars - up until the moment a dragon nearly slashes him in two and he is very lucky Lydia is able to stich him back together. So then there will be a large one across his chest (and the idiot will finally wear armor)

Facial Features: He has very thin, well kept eyebrows, and keeps a very well-trimmed goatee. He has very high cheekbones and a squared jaw.

Hair Style: You can pretty much bet he’ll have that circlet on at all times, so his hair usually stays out of his face. He doesn’t really do anything with it other than that, but he likes it about shoulder length.

Tattoo(s): None, but I could totally see him accidentally getting one while very drunk.

~ Choose ~

Dogs or cats? He wouldn’t be able to keep up with a dog, and would like how cats will usually do their own thing.

Birds or nugs? Is that supposed to be bugs? Either way it’ll definitely be birds because of their songs. I can see him using them for inspiration or trying to copy them.

Snakes or spiders? You’ve unlocked: phobias! Venaric has arachnophobia and will use a stream of fire uncontrollably until they are dead.

Red or blue?

Yellow or green?

Black or white?

Coffee or tea? or whatever the equivalent is lmao

Ice cream or cake? He likes multiple kinds of cake, if you know what I mean 😏

Fruits or vegetables?

Sandwich or soup?

Magic or melee? You can bet he’ll try to keep an enemy at bay with his magic before having to engage in anything closer ranged.

Sword or bow? pfft a bow? Nah

Summer or winter? The cold does not make for good travel, nor is it very good for his instruments.

Spring or autumn?

The Past or The Future? He sings about the past all the time, that’s what bards do. He especially doesn’t want to think about the future for awhile anyway, because he doesn’t even believe he is/want to be the dragonborn for a while.

I don’t really know who has ocs or not so I’ll just @ all my friends who see this and want to join in!

#tag games #maraleestuff #skyrim #oc #skyrim oc #my oc #venaric #yeah I am writing him because I really wanted to make a bard #and as we all know the bard college sucks #so now he can actually be a bard!#he always carries a lute notebook and some kind of alcohol with him #and he will be joining the thieves guild #he's not above relieving some folk of their coin

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make-it-mavis · 4 years

Text

Homesick (Entry #16)

(cw: drug withdrawal) ----------

01/04/88 12:02 AM Hey.

I don’t like this part.

That’s nothing new.

As I was waking up, a small, ghostly memory of your trailer floated around in my head again. Blame it on the couch, I guess. I thought I heard you rummaging around in the kitchen and talking to yourself, but it was short-lived. Reality woke up slowly after I did, growing like a huge, hot light that burned my eyes. You were still gone. I still had no idea what to do about it. I’d still been murdered without actually dying. The entire arcade was still against me. I was still up to my eyeballs in withdrawal. And, of course, it was just Fix-it I heard, going about his morning routine. When I asked him who the hell he’d been talking to, he said it was me. Apparently, I’d been carrying on a sparse conversation with him since he got up. That was just splendid. I didn’t ask what we’d talked about. I figured, on top of everything else, I was better off not knowing.

Fix-it asked if I wanted anything, but I was still too sick for breakfast. I didn’t want food, anyway. All I wanted was Boosts. But I couldn’t very well say that, could I? He knew I’d been taking buffs on the regular, but I didn’t think he knew my sickness was withdrawal, and I wanted it to stay that way. Let him believe it was just stress-induced. The last thing I needed was him throwing together some sort of intervention or something, totally blowing out of proportion a tiny, accidental dependency that would leave my system in under a week. Blink, and it’d be over.

Not to say it didn’t suck while it was happening.

We lingered in extremely awkward silence for far too long after Fix-it finished making his breakfast. He sat at his table and ate quietly, pretending to gloss over some papers I didn’t care to identify. I shivered on the couch, struggling with the fact that the arcade would open soon, and I’d have to find something to do with myself. Eventually, the atmosphere became too suffocatingly heavy to bear. Whether I was ready or not, I had to leave. I’d figure something out.

When I stood up, I realized just how disgusting I felt, like a lukewarm, moist, smelly sock. My code itself felt swollen stiff. I grabbed my clean clothes, which Fix-it had folded in an annoyingly neat pile, and went to have another shower. I was just about clean when I heard a knock.

At first, I was understandably irritated, and called out, “Can it wait?”

But he didn’t answer, which was somehow more irritating. Like he’d knocked and run off just for the fun of it, completely in the wrong context for that kind of prank. Once I turned off the water, though, I heard him talking just outside of the door.

I called out again, “Uh, y’know I can’t hear you, right?”

“No, no, it’s okay, Mavy, it’s the front door.”

Great, I thought. Nicelanders. I’d scarcely been in less of a mood to deal with them. I also had no idea what Fix-it would tell them about the night before, intentionally or not. I turned on the sink faucet so he wouldn’t get suspicious, and put my ear to the door.

Whoever was at the door was too muffled to hear, but I could just barely hear Fix-it’s side of the conversation. He sounded anxious.

“--course not, but you know, she’s feeling quite under the weather, so she’s staying with me for now.”

Stayed with him, I wanted to say.

“What do you mean? ...Yes, I know… No, I know it’s not, but it’s not exactly a normal situation, either.”

I grasped the door handle, ready to open it and punch him out if he said absolutely anything about the night before. But then things took a turn unlike any they had taken in the past. A firmness crept into his voice, relative to his usual overly friendly tone.

“I understand your concern, but it’s a private matter… Yes, a very private matter… No need, I’ll handle all that before we--... Exactly what I told you… I’m afraid I’ll just have to ask you to trust me, and carry on-- and, and... not get involved. Not even a little bit.”

I could hardly believe it -- suddenly, there was a note of anger. It was faint and mild-mannered, but still there.

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware of what you think, but it’s not what I know. I do not appreciate you behaving as if you know my cousin better than I do. Now, I can’t change your ridiculous opinion of her, but I’ll not hear another hurtful word about her from you, or anyone else in this building. Are we clear?”

He scolded a Nicelander for me.

“Very good… I’ll see you in the morning huddle. Good morning, Gene.”

I heard the door close.

He scolded Gene.

Where in the eight bits was that four-and-a-half years ago!?

I took a generous amount of time getting dressed before I left the bathroom. By then, Fix-it was obviously ready to go, and seemed like he might have been waiting on me. The emotional loop-de-loops were really starting to give me vertigo, so I hoped he’d keep whatever he wanted to say brief.

He asked if I had plans for the day, and I said I didn’t know. He said I was welcome to stay in his apartment and rest, and I told him it would be hard to rest with the building getting pounded. He offered for me to take the puke bucket with me, and I told him I probably had a few in my hoard. He told me that I was still welcome to come back and spend the night. I told him I’d think about it, and at the time, I meant it.

When it was really time to part ways, he squeezed his hands anxiously, and said with grating sincerity, “Mavy… you’ll make it through this. I believe in you.”

In the usual way, his words seemed to force my gaze away. I just stared at the curtains and fidgeted, unsure of how to proceed. I didn’t want to say anything -- there were lots of things I could have said, I guess, but I didn’t want to. I appreciated a few things about that whole ‘visit’, but none of them magically fixed everything about us. If we’re really a family, we’re a pretty poor excuse for one, and I couldn’t see that changing.

But I think I’d be lying if I said, after all I’d been through, I wasn’t at least a little glad to hear it.

Eventually, I settled on mumbling, “Yeah. ‘Making it’ is kinda my thing.”

We ended at that. He hovered towards the door, but mostly watched me open a window and get ready to fly out. Freshly fixed brush in hand, I went to paint feathers on my heels. But when I looked down, there was just… a sheet of yellow paint splattered over my heel.

Needless to say, I was confused. I had a perfect grasp of all the colors in my head, so wetting my brush with them should have been as easy as flexing my fingers. But, for some reason, only yellow was showing up, no matter what I tried. Just short-lived splatters of yellow paint.

This had never happened before, but I tried to stay calm. I called Fix-it over and asked him to hit my brush and paint can with his hammer again, thinking it must have glitched or something the night before. He complied.

At first, I thought it did something. I hadn’t exactly tried to produce red or orange before calling him over, but I found that I could after his fixing attempt. But that was still just it: Red, orange, and yellow.

I asked him to do it again. Nothing changed. I asked again. Nothing. My attempt to stay calm flew straight out the window, like I should have. I threw down frantic splatters, all disappearing and reappearing right after another.

Red, orange, yellow. Red, orange, yellow. Red, orange, yellow.

My brush didn’t work anymore.

Hey... Remember when I said that things weren’t about to look up any time soon? Well, I wasn’t kidding. I wish I had been.

Before that, I already thought I’d lost everything that mattered to me. Now the Devs were coming for things I’d never even considered that I could lose before. They took the very fabric of what makes me who I am and shredded it. I’m supposed to be a chaotic twister of rainbows. After that, I was nothing but an analogous smear on the wall.

I could feel something terrible about to burst from me. I held my brush in my hands like a dead bird, shaking so hard I could have dropped it. Fix-it looked just about as mortified and panicked as I’d ever seen him, looking from my brush to his hammer, turning it around like something might have been wrong with it, too.

“Hey,” I said, barely stopping myself from shouting. I grabbed the glass from the coffee table, poured it out on the floor, and stomped it beneath my foot. “Fix this.”

He did as he was told quickly, seemingly just as much for himself as for me. Flash of light, and the shards were completely whole again, forming a glass that looked even better than before I crushed it.

“I’m-- I’m so sorry, Mavy, I don’t-- I don’t know what’s wrong! I mean, this hammer fixes everything, even things that aren’t broken in the first place, and it’s never done this before, so I have no idea what to--”

He went on babbling quicker than his mouth could keep up with. At a certain point, I couldn’t hear him anymore. I felt like my insides were about to crawl out of my mouth.

It wasn’t his fault. I know that, now. I probably knew it deep down, back then, too. But if he wasn’t to blame, then it meant there was something wrong with me. Something that, if it had even resisted his hammer, could very well never be fixed. I just couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t let myself believe I was broken, not when I needed to be strong more than ever.

I’m not proud of it. But blaming him was all I could do.

“Hey, it’s okay, maybe it was a fluke.” I strode back to the window, grabbed the curtain, and yanked it so hard, the curtain rod broke away and sent drywall crumbling down. “Fix this.”

He leapt up, panicking even harder than before. I could see it in his face -- he knew what was coming, and he wasn’t prepared. By the time he reached the window, I was already across the room, blocky lamp in hand.

“Can you fix this, too?!” I threw it full-force at him, and he just barely ducked in time. It exploded into pieces on the wall right where his head had been.

He may have made some sort of plea for me to calm down, but I was having none of it. I’d started to rage, and, as we both know, there’s no stopping me once the momentum builds. It was going to run its course, one way or another. And its course led me right into the kitchen. I swung open the lower cupboards and kicked them off their hinges. I opened the fridge and swept an entire shelf to the floor, breaking a few jars. I grabbed armfuls of plates and glasses and shattered them on every surface available. I trashed everything I could get my hands on, all the while screaming things I barely remember, things like...

“C’MON, HANDYMAN!! WHERE’S YOUR MAGIC HAMMER?! FIX IT, FELIX!! FIX IT, FELIX!!”

I’m not even sure what Fix-it was doing during all that. I lost track of him -- it didn’t matter to me anymore. He was probably appalled, keeping a safe distance somewhere, maybe trying to get through to me, more likely crying or something. I honestly don’t know. I didn’t see him again until after I’d flipped his kitchen table and grabbed one of the chairs. Even then, I avoided looking directly at him, like I’d rupture something if I did.

I took the chair in both arms and swung it at one of the windows, hearing a boing indicative of Fix-it springing out of the way. The glass took a few hits to break, and I found myself screaming with every swing: “THIS!! CAN’T!! BE!!--”

The glass shattered.

“--HAPPENING!!”

Then, with a whole-body spin, I flung the chair at Fix-it’s wall of medals. It busted a huge fold into the drywall and more than a few shiny medals hit the floor. Suddenly, I had nothing in immediate range to break, but my body threatened to crumple in on itself, quaking with the thunderous rage still rolling inside me. It had to get out somehow. I just grasped my hair, closed my eyes, and screamed so hard, it hurt. In such a small space, it was ear-splitting -- at least for Fix-it.

Then, well. You know all too well what happens when there’s nothing left to break. The stinging in my eyes could not have been a clearer cue to hightail it out of there.

I didn’t stop to say anything, didn’t even look his way. I just made a beeline for the window I meant to leave through earlier. But I was so out-of-it and desperate to make my escape, I just threw my legs right out into the open air. Forgetting that I couldn’t paint my shoes mid-fall anymore. I just barely caught the sill in time to plant my feet against the brick wall.

Naturally, Fix-it appeared, at his wit’s end, trying to help me back up, but I screamed “DON’T TOUCH ME!!” before he could. He shrunk back, and I climbed over onto the fire escape, like an earthbound loser. I hate, hate using that thing, but I had no choice. I tore down the stairs as quickly as my weary body could handle, and started to run towards my den. But my balance lurched and my vision darkened. It was a miracle that I hadn’t puked from all the exertion already. So I had to slow to a walk. Broken code, buff withdrawal, on the verge of tears, walking.

I know my game’s forest by heart. It’s not really my home, but I’ve lived in it for almost my entire life.

But when I reached the tree line, I froze to the spot. My trees look drastically different from the ones in Dragon’s Lair, but it didn’t matter. I stared into the darkness, and, for the first time in my life, I was too afraid to go in.

Then, inevitably, the tears came. I folded up on the grass, clutching my brush close, crying in the most pitiful way imaginable. I just wanted it all to stop. Just once, I wanted to believe that things couldn’t get any worse, and be right.

More than anything in the world, I just wanted my best friend back.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #fix it felix #make it mavis #turbo #gene #original character #homesick

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parkerparts · 4 years

Text

you tell me ‘bout your past (thinking your future was me)

Mary and Peter Parker Realize What It Means to Fall in Love: It Begins and Ends with a Dance (AO3 here)

They say you can’t find love on the streets of New York City, but Mary Fitzpatrick has spent her entire life defying the odds. She meets Richard Parker on the sidewalk of a college campus neither of them attends.

Their son will attend that university. He’ll major in Dance at first, but then he’ll decide on Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering. Then he will fall in love again, or maybe it will be for the first time. He will end up majoring in both, and it might take him five years, but he’ll be proud. They’ll all be so proud of him.

Summer is hot in New York City. Richard still wears a leather jacket. Mary still wears closed-toed shoes.

“You’re that dancer,” he says. “My brother loves the ballet. Mary Fitzpatrick, right?”

“Just Mary,” she replies. “Fitzpatrick isn’t much of a stage name.” “Mary Parker has a nice ring to it.”

Mary thinks for a moment. It’s a moment neither of them should share on a busy New York City street, but they share it anyway. “You know what? You’re kind of right.”

Richard flashes her a smile, and it’s the type of smile you fall in love with. “I’m always right.”

They’ll find out later that he’s wrong. He’s a good man, and he tries to be right, but it will still be a lie when he tells his baby boy years later that he’ll be there for him when he first steps foot in a dance studio or first slides around on a baby skateboard. It’s an entirely human flaw, that sort of hope.

Mary goes to her studio two weeks later and tells them she’s changing her name. She starts her second season as principal dancer with the name Mary Parker, and it’s a name that doesn’t really belong to her -- not quite yet -- but she makes it hers anyway.

They let Richard, Ben, and May Parker backstage after the show because they tell security they’re family.

“Your last name is Parker?” she exclaims when she meets them. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“You don’t really think I pulled the name ‘Parker’ for you out of my ass, did you? I was flirting.”

Ben steps forward and holds out a bouquet of orange roses. “I’m sorry my brother’s an idiot. You did good out there, Parker.”

Mary takes the flowers. “You’re the brother who likes ballet? I’m glad to share the name Parker with a man of some sense.”

“Hey!” Richard cries out, and Mary lets out a laugh. She thinks she has an ugly laugh. It’s the same laugh she gives to her baby boy, but it’s beautiful on him.

“You’ll keep the name, then?” May asks over the lighthearted bickering that broke out between the brothers. “It’ll be good to have another one of us to balance out all the trouble these two get into.”

“I’ll keep the name,” Mary replies, “but you might find that I’m just as much of a troublemaker myself.”

May grins. “Good. You’ll fit right in.”

They say you can’t find love on the streets of New York City, they’re right. As much as Spider-Man frequents those very streets, Peter Parker finds love on a rooftop just outside the city. He meets Harley Keener on the rooftop of the Compound on the first night he spends there.

“You’re that dancer,” he says. “Spider-Man, right?”

“Just Peter,” he replies. “And yeah, I’m Spider-Man. Guess nothing really stays a secret around here.”

Harley smiles, and it’s the kind of smile you fall in love with. Like mother, like son. Peter and Mary Parker have always been suckers for a beautiful smile. “There’s plenty of secrets to go around. Nah, Tony just can’t keep his mouth shut about you. Besides, he has everyone’s measurements on file, and Peter Parker and Spider-Man had very similar -- exactly the same, actually -- leg to body ratios.”

“Could just be a weird coincidence.”

“I live in a building with most of America’s Mightiest Heroes. I’ll take my chances that the things that catch my eye aren’t just weird coincidences.”

Peter smiles because, weirdly, Harley reminds him of Aunt May in that moment. Two normal people in an abnormal world, doing their absolute best and succeeding. “You’re smart. I see why Mr. Stark likes you.”

Harley barks a laugh that echoes in the relative quiet of the lands around them. “I’ve been pissing Tony off since I was twelve. He tolerates me, maybe.”

“You know him, better than I do, probably. You know that’s not true.”

Harley is still for a moment, and Peter starts to worry he overstepped. Then he sighs and sinks down until his back is against the rooftop, still warm from the just-set sun. “Yeah,” he says to the emerging stars. “I know.”

When Mary first invites Richard over to her apartment, he spends a solid minute laughing when he sees her set-up. She’s twenty-two and she lives alone. Her living room consists of two beanbags, two panels of marley, and a barre. “Don’t you get priority time at your studio as a principal of whatever?”

“I’m twenty-two and insecure,” she tells him. “Besides, everyone starts somewhere.”

She feels vindicated by the sheepish look on his face.

They eat corn dogs on the fire escape, and Mary makes fun of Richard for liking mustard. The sounds of the city unfurl around them as they talk. Mary says she never thought she’d be a star. Richard says he never thought he’d make it past twenty-one. Mary says she doesn’t quite believe it sometimes. Richard says he doesn’t either.

Mary opens a bottle of wine. She says, “My father always liked this kind.”

Richard says, “My grandmother did too.”

At midnight, Mary says, “My father was a secret agent. My mother was in the business too, but she didn’t do field work. She got injured anyway. She didn’t want me to follow in her footsteps or my father’s. She wanted me to be a god.”

Richard asks her, “Aren’t you?”

Mary takes a sip directly from the bottle of wine. “No,” she says eventually. “I’m just Mary Parker.”

“Formally Fitzgerald.”

Mary pauses with the bottle half-raised to her lips. She lets a smile slip onto her face. “Perhaps,” she tells him. “But no one needs to know about that.”

Natasha takes Peter to Varna one winter to see the International Ballet Competition, and Tony and Harley tag along. She spends the Quinjet ride trying to teach Peter a little bit of Bulgarian. Tony and Harley don’t help.

“Teach him some swear words,” Harley says, not even looking up from where he and Tony are huddled over the computer system.

“Don’t teach him the swear words,” Tony says, in a similar fashion. “Harley swears at me enough in English. I don’t need another one coming at me in a language I can’t understand.”

Peter pipes up, “I’d never swear at you, Mr. Stark.”

“Момчета,” Natasha says, snapping a finger in Peter’s face. “Focus.”

Peter gets a decent foundation in Bulgarian by the time they land, and as a treat, Natasha teaches Peter чекиджия. “It means wanker,” she tells him.

Peter keeps his promise. He doesn’t swear at Tony, but he swears at Harley when he pushes him into the hotel pool. Tony glares at Natasha, and she just winks at him from above the rim of her glass of pina colada.

Later that night, Peter finds himself on the balcony of his room, murmuring Bulgarian phrases to himself in an attempt to remember what Natasha taught him. She’ll quiz him on his Bulgarian in the morning.She’s tough on him like that, and she’s a great teacher because of it.

“So Natasha did teach you some swear words.” Peter looks up, and there’s Harley on the balcony of the room next to his, looking at him with a grin.

“Just one,” Peter admits. “I called you a wanker earlier.”

Harley lets out a laugh. “I deserved it.”

“You did.”

They’re silent for another minute or two.

Eventually, Harley says in a voice barely above a whisper, “Abbie used to come up with the most ridiculous names to call me when I annoyed her. Her favorite was boxhead.”

“You miss her,” Peter points out.

“More than anything.”

Peter climbs up on the hotel’s wall and skittles over to Harley’s balcony, dropping next to the boy silently. “It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to be sad.”

“She wants to be a journalist,” Harley says. “She’s going to graduate high school and go to journalism school and make our mama proud.”

“You don’t think you’ve made your mom proud?”

“Do you?”

Peter loses his breath for a moment. In the darkness, he feels Harley lean into him slightly, like an apology. He lets out a breath. “Touche. I’ll drink to that.”

“There’s whiskey and vodka in the mini fridge. Think Tony will notice if we drink any?”

“He will. I accidentally bought porn on the hotel TV in Germany, and Happy found out.”

Harley chokes on a laugh, and Peter’s kind of proud of that. “Diet Coke and Sprite it is, then.”

They bring their drinks out to the balcony again because nights like these are always too beautiful to miss. Peter asks, “What are we drinking to?”

“To making no one but ourselves proud.”

Peter smiles and drinks to that. Their conversation lightens up, and they gossip like grandmothers going out to tea. It’s easier to talk about other people than to talk about themselves. Peter’s head slips onto Harley’s shoulder as he tells Peter a story, and within a minute, he’s asleep.

Harley doesn’t move. They fall asleep like that, on a balcony in Bulgaria on a beautiful night.

Mary’s Tuesday nights are reserved for the weekly Parker women meeting (which will one day be called the Parker wives meeting). After dinner, they meet at a coffee shop near May and Ben’s apartment and talk over countless cups of tea until closing.

“So you and Richard,” May begins one night. “How’s it going.”

Mary takes a sip of her tea and a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m twenty-two, and I know absolutely nothing about love. I started thinking about it the other day, and I sort of panicked? I’ve already named myself Mary Parker. Does that mean I have to be a Parker forever? Do I have to date Richard forever or, god forbid, marry him?” May takes Mary’s hand. “Would it be so awful?”

Mary waits a very long time before answering. Yes, she thinks at first. She spent her whole life making it alone in this world, and she was fully prepared to do it forever. Now, she’s twenty-two, and she’s basically married to this man and his family. She doesn’t even know if she loves him. She doesn’t really know what love is.

But she knows that it’s easy to be around him, almost as easy as it is to breathe. Maybe as easy as it is to dance. It’s like everything dark and nervous in her shuts down, and she just gets to let herself be.

“No,” she says eventually. “I don’t think I’d mind at all.”

“That’s love,” May says with a smile. “Or, at least, it’s the closest thing any of us are ever going to get to it.”

Mary bites her lip. “Isn’t that, I don’t know, sort of settling for second best?”

May shakes her head. “True love is for the fairytales. Us girls, girls grown up too fast, we know a little better than to believe in love like that.”

As much as Mary adores May, she disagrees. Her name is Mary, Mary Parker, and she has always defied the odds.

The next day, Richard proposes to her at his skate park that she visits on Wednesdays for lunch with him. Mary says yes. She cries. She falls in love.

Maybe what she has with Richard’s not true love, but true love is the feeling in her heart when she sees her baby boy for the very first time. She names him Terry, and he dies before the week is over.

May picks Peter up from the Compound after two weeks spent in Varna. She pulls him in for a hug and kisses his forehead, and Peter catches Harley’s eye from over her shoulder. He looks sad. Peter’s seen a glimpse of the depth of loneliness beneath that gaze.

Peter buries his head in May’s shoulder and breathes her in.

Happy drives May and Peter home, and both adults listen as Peter babbles on about the beautiful performances at Varna. May knows more about dance than Happy, so she chimes in every now and then, but they both just let Peter talk until he tires himself out. He falls asleep with his head in May’s lap.

Happy carries Peter into the apartment when they arrive, and Peter wakes up just enough to wrap his arms around Happy’s neck and hold tight. He wonders what he did to deserve being treated like a child. He wants to stay like this forever.

Happy lays Peter down on his bed, and Peter lets go.

Peter wakes up hours later, just as the sun is setting. May makes a box of easy mac, and asks, “So what’s up?”

Peter dodges the question for ten minutes, and then he says, “I spent a lot of time with Harley and swore at him in Bulgarian.”

May ignores that second part. “So you and Harley?”

“Me and Harley nothing, May. We’re friends, or something like that. I don’t know. I think we’re kind of close, and it’s kind of nice. Harley gets me, like really gets me, and he’s not afraid of anything.”

“Do you love him?”

Peter smiles sadly. “I’m seventeen,” he says. “What do I know about love?”

May reaches across the table and takes his hand. “Your mother once said the same thing.”

Peter blinks back a sudden tear. “About my dad?”

“About your dad. And you know what? He was planning to propose to her the next day.”

“So what happened?”

“She said yes.” May runs her thumb against the back of Peter’s hand. “Don’t go getting married any time soon, baby, but don’t be afraid of letting yourself fall in love.”

Richard runs away when Terry dies. Mary goes back to dancing. Despite the months that she took off, her body still remembers. Her body, her body.

It’s a body that betrayed her.

Richard comes back, eventually. He comes to see her first performance since childbirth. He lets her take him home.

“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his head in her body. Mary holds him close.

“We do what we can to cope.” He lifts his head up and wipes away his tears. He wipes away her tears. He lifts her left hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the ring that she never took off.

They get married in the winter, even though Mary had always wanted a summer wedding. People change. Mary falls in love with a wedding gown that has sleeves.

There’s no one by her side as she walks down the aisle. She gives herself away.

May makes a toast and then Ben does. Mary cries a lot. “To the Parkers,” one of the guests yells when the speeches are over. Everyone drinks to that.

The four of them in the wedding party share smiles. Mary was a Parker long before the wedding took place.

Nine months later, Peter Benjamin Parker is born. “We’ll name the next one after you, May,” Mary promises.

May smiles as she rocks the little boy in her arms. “You don’t need to,” she says. “This one right here is the only baby I’ll ever need.”

Months later, Mary will fall asleep on the couch with the baby on her chest, and her husband will carry her to bed. She’ll wake up to an empty bed and the sound of a baby crying. Richard will sing the little boy to sleep, and Mary will watch silently from the doorway wondering what she did to get this lucky in life.

When Harley bursts into the lab at midnight one night, it’s just Peter in there. Bruce had bullied Tony into bed about an hour ago but had given up on Peter. “What’s wrong?”

Harley takes two heaving breaths. “It’s my dad,” he manages to say. “He’s back.”

Peter can’t go with Harley to Rose Hill because they’re gearing up for a performance at the studio. Tony wants to go, but Pepper intervenes, and she brings Natasha along with her.

“It’s for the best,” Tony says, still in his pajamas and even more tired than before, after helping Pepper pack. “Pepper’s good at dealing with people, and Scary Red is, well, she’s good back-up. She’s always worked well with Pepper too. Did I ever tell you about Pepper having the Black Widow as her PA?”

“You did,” Peter says. They watch the Quinjet take off.

“It’s for the best,” Tony repeats, almost as if to himself. “I think I’d just have made the situation much worse.”

Peter sees through the act in an instant. It’s flimsy; he wonders if Tony has let his guard down, or if he’s too tired to pretend. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You sound like Pepper. Or Bruce. He’s even worse. Very zen, despite, you know, the whole green rage monster thing.” Tony sighs and turns around, slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Anyway, I get to spend time with the Spider-Baby, now that Harley’s not hogging you. Midnight snack?”

Peter starts to protest the whole Harley thing. He thinks better of it. Instead, he says, “I want juice pops.”

“You just read my mind, kid.”

They eat juice pops and watch the sunrise. Steve and Sam pass by the window on their early morning run. Tony says, “Cap is going to propose to Metal Man.”

Peter smiles. Tony and Harley are such gossips. “I know. Harley told me.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, and Peter braces himself for his next words. “So you and Tinkerbell, huh?”

“It’s not like that. It’s just-- It’s nice to have a friend.”

“Do you want it to be more?”

“Dunno,” Peter murmurs. “I’m scared of wanting things.”

Tony sighs, and Peter knows he understands. “It gets better, kiddo. That fear. I don’t think it ever really goes away, but you learn to ignore it. You learn that some things, some people, are just stronger and bigger and braver than fear itself.”

Peter smiles sadly. “Is it time for coffee yet?”

“No,” Tony says, snapping immediately into what Harley and Peter like to call his dad-voice. “It’s time for bed.”

“Since when did you become so responsible?”

“I’m old, kid. You and Harley and this whole damn team aged me prematurely.”

Peter is the most beautiful baby the world has ever seen. Mary whispers this into the top of his head as they sway around the living room. Richard’s going through a jazz phase; one of his CDs is playing softly. Mary wonders if Peter will ever know how loved he really is.

Spoiler Alert: he doesn’t. That kind of love is infinite, and it grows with every person he touches. But as Peter grows older, he begins to understand.

The door of the new Parker apartment opens quietly, and Mary smiles, turning away from the window to greet her husband with a kiss. “Hush,” she says, before he can even begin to speak. “Peter’s sleeping.”

Richard nods and presses a kiss to Peter’s head. The baby doesn’t stir. Distantly, Mary hears the shower turn on. She continues swaying to her husband’s jazz and staring out the window at the city she calls home.

Her son will call it home. Her son will dedicate his life to protecting that very city.

Richard joins her in by the window after a moment. He takes the baby from her arms and sways to the music. Mary sits on the couch. It’s been a very long day, and she should go to bed, but she wants to stay in this moment just a little longer.

Eventually, Richard goes to the CD player, and Mary thinks he’s going to turn the music off. She stands up, ready to go to bed, but the music just changes. Richard shifts Peter to one arm and pulls Mary in with the other. They sway together like that to the sound of Ella Fitzgerald’s voice, their baby in between them. Mary lets out a sigh. She lets her forehead rest against Richard’s.

Like always, when her thoughts drift away, they drift to her baby’s future.

Peter will grow up, and every day, he will look more and more like Richard. He will take after his mom, though. He’ll learn how to dance. He will defy all odds. He will fall in love without even knowing what love is.

He will make mistakes. He will live and lose. He’ll forget what it’s like to be loved.

But he will remember. He always does. He is, after all, a Parker.

Pepper, Natasha, and Harley come home after half a week. Peter skips rehearsal and patrol and convinces Happy to drive him to the Compound to meet them. Harley steps off the Quinjet, takes one look at Peter, and falls into his open arms.

“He wanted to take Abbie,” Harley tells him while everyone else crowds into the kitchen to fight over whose turn it is to make dinner. “Mama wouldn’t let him.”

“So what then?”

“He left. Pepper bribed him with a little money and threatened him with a restraining order, so he took the money and left. For good, this time, he says, but I won’t be surprised if he turns up again in the next five years. Pepper says she won’t offer money next time around, just the restraining order.”

“She’s a good person,” Peter says with a smile.

“The best.”

Harley’s phone starts ringing then, so he leaves the room to take it. Peter wanders into the kitchen and watches the commotion of his family until Tony pulls him into a debate with Happy, Steve, and Bucky about motorcycles.

Peter politely reminds Tony that he knows absolutely nothing about motorcycles.

When Harley returns, dinner is ready, so they crowd around the table and pass around massive plates. After dinner, Harley calls Tony, Pepper, Natasha, Happy, Rhodey, and Peter and asks to talk with them.

“There’s a harvest festival in Rose Hill in about a month,” he says. “Mama and Abbie want you all to come.”

A month later, all of them plus May pile into a Quinjet, and they take off for Rose Hill. Harley sits next to Peter and spends the entire ride telling him about his mom and his sister while Peter nods along nervously.

He’s very oddly nervous. All of the adults shoot one of the two a knowing look before the Quinjet has landed.

“Relax,” May whispers to him as they step off the ramp. “Just be yourself. That’s the best way to make a first impression.”

Natasha whispers in his other ear, “Besides, there’s no harm done if Mrs. Keener doesn’t like you. She’ll just hit you over the head with a frying pan or a wrench.”

Peter sometimes wishes his life wasn’t so chock-full of the most intimidating women in the world.

He makes a wonderful first impression, and he thinks to himself that it’s probably because he’s had a lot of practice being around intimidating women.

Later that night, the ten of them claim a campfire at the festival and roast s’mores. Someone offers them slices of leftover apple pie from the baking contest. Peter stuffs his face with peach cobbler.

Up on the platform, the band begins to play some jaunty tune that the whole town knows. Harley sweeps his mother up and they’re some of the first out on the dance floor, a fact which makes Peter’s jaw drop.

Abbie laughs at his expression and goes to find her friends, all of whom run out onto the dance floor and form a circle. Peter thinks violently of school dances. He doesn’t think about homecoming.

Happy gets May on the dance floor, which makes Pepper turn to Tony. “Dance with the kid,” he tells her. “I’m old.”

Peter turns to Pepper, and she takes his hand. “Thank goodness,” Pepper whispers to him with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. “You’re a much better dance partner than Tony.”

Peter laughs and spends the song proving her right. He catches Tony’s eye at one point, and he looks so very proud.

Somehow, at the next song, Peter ends up with Abbie’s hand in his and a challenge dancing in her eyes. Harley winks at him from where he’s dancing with Pepper. “Alright, dancer boy,” Abbie says. “Show me what you got.”

He dips her at the next available chance with absolutely no warning, and she takes it like a champ. “I like you,” Peter tells her.

Abbie lets out a laugh that sounds almost exactly like Harley’s.

Harley comes up to Peter at the end of the song with a smile that’s lighter and wider than Peter has seen in a long time. This is where he belongs, Peter realizes. On a dance floor surrounded by the people he has loved for forever.

Harley taps his shoulder with his. “Could I get a dance with my sister?”

“Sure,” Peter says, and before he can lose his courage, he continues, “if I get one with you right after.”

Harley doesn’t even hesitate. “Deal.”

As Harley whisks Abbie away, Peter goes back to the campfire and shoves a marshmallow in his mouth before May can stop him. “A dance with my favorite aunt, by any chance?”

May rolls her eyes. “Sure thing, my favorite nephew.”

“I have a dance with Harley next,” he tells her. “What do I do?”

May smiles with all the laughter in her soul reflected in her eyes. “Peter, you do what you do best. You dance.”

So Peter does just that.

The band picks it up for the next song, and Peter takes Harley’s hand. They share a grin. They jump and swing their way across and around the entire fun, laughing all the way. Harley’s cheeks are flushed, and his hair is a mess from all their jumping around. Peter realizes he will never see a sight more beautiful than this.

It’s easy, Peter realizes, to fall in love. It happens just like that. He dances with Harley for the rest of the night.

#harley keener #peter parker #spider-man #parkner #mary parker #richard parker #tony stark #marvel #ballet #bella writes

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whirlybirdwhat · 4 years

Text

Accidental Family Man Au

remember that one ask where I talked about some projects? This is one of them. Enjoy dad franky!

So it begins with Franky – a back alley repair in the illustrious mechanic city of Water 7 – a miracle engineering city, they call it, with intertwining roads of cars and rivers. Venice, if Venice was made of concrete and had a road system above its water system, twisting above houses and everything.

Franky used to be one of those engineers that created those miracles, but an accident later, and he’s the scourge of the city and half bionic, making his living in back alley repair shops where you either pay with cash or your life.

He never said he was a good guy, did he Ice Burg?

He still has connections though – and these connections lead to Iceburg, and to the Straw Hats.

Iceburg’s the mayor, of course, and while he doesn’t care much for his public image, he knows that if he starts accepting money from shady kids who showed up to his doorstep possibly covered in blood with a woman who he swears he’s seen before beside him, that maybe Water 7’s people will take a hit for harboring criminals.

But hey, He knows a guy already doesn’t he?

So he sends these kids and their broken van down to the Franky House to see if he would fix their beloved, broken, van.

The Straw Hats never reach it, because the woman (Robin) gets kidnapped and a fight breaks out, leading to the separation of the group,

So the story really begins with Franky and the little broken down RV called The Going Merry, previously belonging to the kid who’s standing in front of him, begging him to fix it.

More Hcs Below cut including actual dad Franky stuff lol

That kid is Usopp, and he’s asking because Franky’s the only repair man in the illustrious city of Water 7 that will possibly accept the cash that Usopp has to offer.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he attempts to kick the kid out and gets kidnapped in return.

Oops

So, Franky’s introduced to Ennies Lobby one of the worst places this side of the country – where people go and never come back, and hey, whats this kid doing kicking down the door?

Safe to say, Franky is rescued, and learns a little more of their story.

And Safe to say, Franky sees the woman they are going to save (him, and a bunch of teenagers and some 12 year old brat) and he near damn falls in love with her on sight and definitely does when he actually talks to her.

They save Robin, and start running – of course, Merry the van is just barely struggling to save all their added weight but they make it but also merry’s totaled.

So Franky shows them his pet project, The Thousand Sunny, supposed to be his super get away, home a way from home rv but with a few modifcations… the Straw Hat Gang has a new home. And a new crew member.

Franky learns everyone’s stories and about all the absolutely shady shit they are into. He learns he fits right in.

And then… then the moments start happening.

He helps Usopp fix up the Sunny, and teachers him about cars and such.

He and Chopper start bonding over bionics and medical shit that went into building his body.

Zoro and him geek out over comic heroes (this, at least in zoro’s part, is canon the big nerd.)

He helps Nami out with some headings and listens to her troubles.

Sanji and him go fishing one day and it’s the most surreal experience of Franky’s life because this teen is in a three-piece suit and catching giant fish out on the shore of some lake? What?

Franky gives Luffy advice and pulls him out of fights and shows him cool robot things.

And its two months in when Franky realizes – here is it actually typed out lmao

“In all honesty, Franky doesn’t know how it happens.

Well.

He has a vague idea.

(Can you save her? Please? Merry’s the best.)

But still – tracing the events that led up to him frantically calling Ice-for-brains at one am in the morning at a near abandoned gas station on the west coast was a hard task.

“Hello?”

Finally.

“Ice-for-brains,” He starts using the familiar name.

“Flunky? The hell? What are you calling me now?”

“Iceberg.” The use of his real name quiets him. He knows this is serious. Franky takes a deep breath, and exhales, saying the next words in a single breath. “I accidently became a dad to six crazy teenagers. Help.”

…

“Goddamnit bastard-berg this is no time to laugh!””

AND THEN HE GOES ON TO HAVE MORE DAD ADVENTURES INCLUDING:

Organizing the kids at Sabaody Park

being emotional support for all these kids trauma please world, give them a break

doing his best to say no to allowing luffy to swim with sharks but giving in anyway

being a component (aka fierce menacing bodyguard) in his daughter’s nami’s schemes

breaking up fights

Attempting to ground known criminals who may or may not be stronger than him

Modifying the RV so that they can have Brook and Jimbe on it as well

“MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!”

Overthrowing the government in at least three different countries because his kids wanted to

Doing experiments with illegal fireworks on Usopp’s behest

“Do you want to play catch” “Franky that’s dynamite that we found in the stach what the fuck- “Do you want to play catch” “…Yes.”

Explaining Safe Sex to teenagers who have biggers worries such as the government

Teaching them all how to drive. He thinks hius heart has popped out of his chest.

Snoring loudly on their tiny couch and everyone just dogpiling on him

Also I had this in my notes

So that’s a thing that’s going to happen!

Uh anyway uh PART TWO – THE OTHER FCKING STRAWHATS

Note: Everyone is aged down three years from pre TS ages to enforce the fact that 1) the government is fucking nuts for assigning bounties to these kids in this au 2) give more dad moments as while we all need a dad in our lives at any age it gives me more plausible reason here 3) plot related issues and the fact that this story takes place over several years and 4) the image of a 14 year old taking down the government is hilarious to me.

So.

Moving on.

Luffy – 14 years old and an absolute bastard

Luffy grew up in the port city of Fuusha as a way for Garp to keep an eye on him because of his family connections and make sure nothing bad happened to him - didn’t quite work out.

dads a terrorist, his brothers a world class criminal, his gramps is an abusive piece of shit but also weirdly protective marine officer, his family’s complicated.

he grew up in the seedy underbelly of the city and made friends with a lot of criminals (who helped him get out because hey that five year old who used to steal our food is a brat and maybe we should help him get out before he becomes to chaotic (too late) and becomes our friend (also too late) )

Among these criminals are Shanks, who wanders through once in a while, Buggy, begrudging friend, Jimbe, because he has connections, Crocodile, because this brats a bastard, and Rayleigh, among others.

Annoys them to make him his friend, continues annoying them afterwards.

He just thinks they’re neat.

Luffy leaves two months after Ace, his brother under Dadan’s, the local gang leaders, roof, leaves because Ace can’t tell him to stay behind anymore

but the govt got word now he’s on the run – Coby helps him escape

As such, Luffy grows up with a very very skewed moral compass as in canon but a bit more, and now literally is almost ten times more feral as he should be.

His goal is now to do whatever he wants, without people telling him what to do or that he can’t do that – He’s going to be free, damnit.

Franky understands and learns over time to adjust his Parenting Skills accordingly

Zoro – 16 and illegally owning a motorcycle because he thought the best way to improve his skill was to go out and hunt down people to fight, and of course he needs a motorcycle to do that, doesn’t he?

He was pulled over for speeding then taken in for being underage

He is also caught up in some bad stuff (fight circles, bounty’s, etc. this kids 16 and breaking grown men’s spines.)

Then comes Luffy who was also arrested for dine and dashing and is in the back seat.

Luffy, who after the police car pulls over, punches out the police officer, unlocks Zoros cuffs and tells him “Drive”

So they drive

“Hey, hey Zoro. Join my crew. It’ll be fun.”

“Anything you say captain”

knows Luffy for three seconds and is immediately down to murder with him

Its great

He wants to become the greatest sword fighter still, which is still a thing in my fantasy modern world, so anyway, picture this 16 year old going up to you and tell you to fight but he has a sword in his mouth and in both hands and the most dangerous look in his eye.

He and Luffy immediately rob a sword shop to find him new swords after they meet, it becomes a thing later on where they will steal (horribly, they literally crash in through the window every time because they have no subtly) something small from each city they visit.

Nami - 15 year old pick pocket in the city where luffy and zoro stop, just trying to scrap up some money to pay off her family’s debt.

Bellmere’s still alive damnit.

Nami thought Zoro and Luffy were police originally (because they are driving around in stolen police car) and tried to pull the ‘oh officer help me’ card when the people she stole from chased after her

To her surprise, it was two kids her age in the front seat.

Luffy: “get in”

she gets in

they dont talk about it

The people who were chasing her was Buggy’s gang who Luffy waves at as he goes by

Buggy sends a message to Shanks which is essentially “hey that brat u liked is still alive”

And Shanks is like “oh thank god” not knowing the terror he has unleashed upon the world

A month later Arlong has mysteriously disappeared and the Bell-mere farm is flourishing while the second daughter becomes a world class criminal.

Bell’meres never been prouder and it gives Nojiko a great conversation starter.

Usopp’s 14 and lives in a trailer park called syrup alone

Has a business where he sells odd herbs and such, passing them off as anything that will get him some money – think of it as Toad Oil from Wano but with some popgreens and such mixed in.

His goal is get enough money to stand on his own and leave the park but its slow going. And then…

Luffy punches the heck outta the creep that was creeping on the owner of the park, kaya, and think’s Usopp’s stories are super cool.

Usopp wants to go with them, to explore the world With Luffy.

At this point, the Straw Hats have realized that driving a stolen police car around is a bad idea

so they take the huge van - a gift from Kaya named The Going Merry, and set off, using Nami’s stolen funds to get them by.

Sanji - 16 year old who longs to be a chef with the best food and just wants to feed people who need it

He hates government cause they don’t feed people and has a lot of petty grudges and helps Zeff run a lot of kitchens to help people.

He’s still the Sous chef of the Baratie and still has a penchant for kicking unruly customers around. Baratie has a less then stellar reputation for service but the food? The best in the land.

He feeds Luffy the food.

Luffy likes the food.

Luffy kidnaps Sanji

Zeff worries about it but he can’t do jack since he actually is not Sanjis legal guardian (he kidnapped the kid first on accident after they both were stranded. He still tries to call anyway, and is proud of the change his son is making in the world. He’s currently working to get suspicious government people off his back about his missing Sous chef with the unique curly eyebrow…

Anyway, Sanji becomes the cook for the strawhats and is really happy because everyone likes his food and he can help anyone along the way and send business to the baratie

Its a good deal for him, and with all the places he visits his skill grows as a chef.

Chopper - 12 year old prodigy who really wants to be a doctor but both his legal guardians are out of the way

Hiruluks dead and Kureha, against her will because she’s still beautiful at 100 dammnit, is in a nursing home trying to break out

Chopper has nowhere to go but still tries to pursue his medical career, and this fucking twelve year old does so by patching up people from bar and gang fights.

The Straw Hats pick him up and Usopp hacks into a govt control thing to sign him up for online medical course

Kureha’s proud and gives him a book of pressed cherry blossoms that was Hiruluk’s

He cries

Chopper gets lots of practice for medical stuff with Luffy and Zoro who like to fight in fighting rings just for the heck of it, and for the money that Nami wants.

Robin – 25 year old depressed archeologist (and assassin) they found in a mafia in the next country over (Vivi’s)

Crocodile’s running it, aka Luffy’s criminal uncle number 500

Luffy’s pissed about it and smacks him into the dust because it’s his friends country, and then drags Robin along because she needs to have some adventure, and hey, they are checking out the ruin’s next, wont that be cool?

So robin comes along as the ‘adult super vision’, at least in Nami and Usopp and Chopper’s mind.

She learns that these kids have some how been able to dodge school, and starts teaching them the basics of what they would need to know, and then any thing else they want to know. (Zoro, she finds, is extremely good at math while Sanji enjoys chemistry. Nami and Usopp catch on quick, while Chopper has his own studies already but enjoys talking to her. Luffy dislikes learning, but if the promise of pirates or foods or letters that wont spin in his head is involved, he’ll gladly sit down for a bit. He especially loves the stories however.)

Robin finds herself inching dangerously into mom territory, and accepts it whole heartedly after meeting Franky, who she finds handsomely hilarious.

She has a shady past but is slowly opening up about it, and knows she will watch the world burn for this crew.

Y’all know about Franky already so im gonna move on.

Brook – super fucking Old musician they found on the street looking for his dog Laboon

He used to be a star but lost his fame but doesn’t care – he only wants to make people happy with his music.

Luffy just straight up just drags him into the sunny, its becoming a habit of him kidnapping people, that’s not how you make friends Luffy (or at least it shouldn’t be – he always seems to make it work.)

Everyone just goes with it at this point while Franky sighs and triie sto figure out how to make a giant RV even bigger

The Crew find out his dog is living in luffy’s home town and used to play with Luffy when his friends weren’t around. They vow to go back once everything dies down, but in the mean time Dadan gets a new guard dog in her house hold

Usopp posts one (1) video of Brook (on Halloween in skeleton make up) and he instantly becomes a revived star, thriving on the mytery of the Skeleton Soul King.

He now posts videos from around the world of him singing but its impossible to predict where he will be next, and he’s invisible with out his make up to the internet, so its good for the whole criminal thing.

Jimbe

(best) Criminal uncle 501

No one knows exactly how he knows luffy beyond luffy himself but they are 90% sure its something to do with the underground warlord system that Luffy has connections too

He gives the best hugs, Uncle Iroh but without the well-meaning manipulation.

He’s tired of responsibility that he has in his underground position and kinda wants to fuck off to the Caribbean but then he meets luffy again and is like this is better

He Leaves the fishman gang behind with subordinate in charge and joins strawhats

He becomes stressed - “Why did you choose an archeologist and a man who wears speedos for adult supervision, how are you alive, do you need a hug, do you know basic math, have you even gone to school, oh thank god Robin is here - ”

Two minutes later

“Do you have code names, can I have one,”

He’s a big faker the dummy everyone can see right through you, you’re aren’t on this crew if you have common sense

Between dad moments, essentially its just the Straw hats breaking in and causing havoc where ever they go, building their bounties and being a found family.

That’s it for now, but please ask questions! Sorry this was so long lmao, ill also add something for Vivi later!

147 notes · View notes

sandalaris · 4 years

Text

The Leverage!Community AU that I will probably never write and nobody asked for.

Let’s go steal an AU.

Under the cut because it is long

Jeff Winger

Jeff was a damn good lawyer, with just the right amount of flexible morality that let him bend the law to his whim while not being the kind of a amoral asshole that people avoided (*cough*Alan*cough*). He took white collar civil cases, the kind where the defendant was greedy or lazy or just plain stupid, and the fatalities financial in nature, all designed to keeping Jeff in the expensive life he’d become accustomed to. He was on the fast track to make junior partner when out of nowhere evidence surfaced claiming Jeff falsified his credentials. He soon finds himself disbarred and blacklisted, without even getting a chance to plead his case. Determined to get back to his old life as quickly as possible, Jeff sets off to find the culprit and hires a crew to help him. It was only supposed to be one job, no encores. No repeats... well, maybe just one more.

Britta Perry

The only thing Britta loves more than her cats is a noble cause, but there’s only so much a person can do with a picket sign and a catchy chant. She refused to give up though, going out and fighting the good fight, until she discovered she could do more behind a computer screen than she ever could on the streets. A self-proclaimed hactivist, Britta fights for the underdog even as it lands her on government wanted lists. And if she’s entirely honest, she’s more than a little proud of make such lists. She has a hard drive with the copies of each of her arrest warrants, kept like badges of honor even as she goes through and deletes them from local systems. She doesn’t have time to spend the night in jail when there’s some many other, digital places she’s needed.

She only agreed to take the Winger job because she needed the money after a hack went wrong the Croatian government seized her bank accounts and then went the extra dick mile and sent her address to the feds. She just needs to lay low, do the job, and get paid (she’ll be fine, but her cat needs his eye drops). She has no plans to form a crew, not after last time. But someone’s gotta tell this group of miss-matched criminals what’s really going on in the world.

And then later, when the number of people they keep helping continues to grow, she realizes that maybe not all causes have to be large in scale to be worth fighting for.

Abed Nadir

Abed has always related to the world best through TV, defining the people around him by roles and tropes until they fell into place. For years he dreamed of being a writer and director, but making films aren’t cheap, and Abed learns very quickly that if he wants to follow his dream he needs more than the ideas in head. People aren’t going to just see his vision when he places it in front of them, they need to be convinced, persuaded, need to like the guy selling his stories, and people don’t always like Abed. He can pretend though, pluck a character from thin air, custom made to manipulate people into giving him what he wants, opening doors and wallets. It’s a great way to make a living, addictive and exhausting at the same time, and more than enough to keep him making small indie films in his spare time. He dons new names, new people, at every turn, drawing others to him like a moth to flame. Even if he doesn’t always understand the why of people, he at least gets the how, and that’s enough to get by.

He played witness to one of Jeff’s cases, needed the inside information for a script that never got off the ground. He slipped though, started talking about film and shows and forgot to be George Carmicheal from Long Island and became Abed Nadir, failed movie producer and college drop out. And the thing is, Jeff still liked him, maybe even liked him better as Abed than he did as George. Maybe that’s why he showed up at Jeff’s doorstep, uninvited and unannounced, after hearing about his disbarment. Maybe that’s why he volunteered his real name and didn’t pretend to smile or nod or do any of the things he knows he needs to do to make people like him. Even with the others showed up and he placed them in their likely roles, he didn’t don a mask. For the first time in a long time, he was just Abed, and that wasn’t just enough for them, it was preferred.

Annie Edison

Annie had a plan. Perfect grades leading to the perfect school leading to the perfect life. Her extracurricular were carefully selected, the exact balance of brainy and physical to appeal to the Ivy League schools the Edisions’ had their eye on, all mulled over and weighed to give her the best advantage. Annie was a junior in high school when she OD’d on the little “helper” pills her mom and dad had talked her doctor into prescribing her. Her parents refused to send her to rehab, citing the shame it would bring to their family and dismissing her claims of addiction as attention seeking behavior. She begged and pleaded and bargained and finally they caved on lessening her ridged schedule, making time for her to “destress” in between padding her college applications. Meditation didn’t work, but flipping grown men over her shoulder did and her self-defense class was augmented with MMA and kickboxing. And when the acceptance letters started pouring in Annie let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was over now that she reached the goal. She was wrong.

The pressure didn’t stop so Annie upped her training, which lead to her showing her dormmate a few moves, which lead to helping out a classmate with a stalker problem, which turned into a couple of private security gigs, which got her noticed by a man looking for someone to help retrieve some property that may not have been his, and he passed on her name to someone who offered a lot of money for... well, she’s not really at liberty to say. Annie likes being the best, likes the praise and the testing of her carefully honed skills. But the drive to be the very best at what she does led her to taking more and more questionable jobs and fewer and fewer classes, making up excuses about why she doesn’t come home anymore until she stops all together, and before she realizes it she’s got a very specific skill set and rather impressive, yet bloody, resume that only certain kinds of people would be interested in seeing and all those carefully laid plans from all those years ago have long been flushed down the drain.

Troy Barnes

Troy likes to drive, likes the escape of it and the way no one’s around to tell him what he’s doing wrong with his life or “real men" don’t do those things. Likes the thrill of going fast when night has fallen and the streets are bare of regular people, pitting himself against another person who’s like him, trying to outrun that gnawing pit in their stomach that’s constantly telling them they can’t cut it.

Troy’s not made for crime, not the real kind. Doesn’t think he’d make a very good criminal with his hidden soft heart and lack of long-term planning skills. But when Nana Barnes gets sick, driving is what puts food on table and covers the hospital bills. Its what gets him contacted by a down-on-his-luck lawyer looking a guy to provide a quick get away.

He’s not needed at every job in the beginning, but they make roles for him anyways and he finds his own ways to help. He’s always been good with his hands, mending the broken equipment around him and making improvements to his car beyond what the original designs intended. Passing the time creating small, playful gadgets that the others oo and ahh over. He likes to be useful, sewing FBI jackets and making the crew a meal after a long job, creating for Jeff his fake miracle and putting together an EMP spur of the moment when they realize they need one.

“You’re a regular renaissance man,” they tell him, and they don’t comment when he cries at meeting the clients or mentions how he always wanted to learn to dance, and Troy that it must be a good thing because he’s never felt so comfortable staying put before.

Shirley Bennet

Shirley is retired. She found the Lord and put her sinful past firmly behind her. She doesn’t even miss it. Really. Not one bit. No one would suspect that the sweet little housewife with a penchant for baking can crack a safe in under a minute or that she’s intimately familiar with the security systems employed by the most secure museums. People don’t know how her fingers itch in crowds for the fat wallets and shiny valuables that keep catching her eye, or see the frown of disapproval that crosses her face every time some half-brained car chase ends with the perp getting caught. She’s a good wife and mother, and doesn’t entertain such ideas anymore.

She met Jeffery once before, when he was trying to build a plausible alternate for the prosecution’s case and accidentally stumbled across what Shirley had thought was one of her better heists. She never did figure out how he put the pieces together so quickly and he never put her name on an official documents (she checked. Courthouses really should invest in better security), but after that they kept on eye on each other. And when he comes to her with a job offer, well, she tried to tell him she was out of the game, but that boy can just be so darn convincing when he wants to be and its not like its hurting anybody.

Pierce Hawthorne

Pierce has a lot of money, a lot of ex-wives, and next to zero friends. He’s fairly certain he doesn’t need them, after all he’s made it this long without any, no matter how many times Winger argues on the stand that his loneliness and maladjusted psyche due to a “traumatic childhood” are what causes him to make such poor decisions that lead to such expensive lawsuits. He still manages to get him a Not Guilty verdict or argues with him into settling out of court, and no matter how many times Winger swears this is the last time he’s going to defend him, he still answers when Pierce calls. So when Jeff says he needs money to pay a group of criminals to break into his old work building and find out who got him disbarred, Pierce offers without even stopping to think about it. Doesn’t even call it loan and just hands over the cash like he’s passing the salt.

Breaking the law isn’t cheap, apparently. Although the payouts make up for it most of the time. But the set up, the equipment and the materials, all those upfront costs that someone needs to front, are enough to make most people squirm and Pierce covers them without comment. They always pay him back anyways, and after a couple months, they’ve made enough that they don’t need him anymore. They still invite him though, to the meetings and the plans, making room for him in their little group and giving him a place at the table.

They aren’t his friends, can’t be because Pierce doesn’t need any, but he think he might want some anyways.

#Community #the greendale seven #Jeff Winger #Britta Perry #Abed Nadir #Annie Edison #Troy Barnes #Shirley Bennet #Pierce Hawthorne #Leverage AU #I'd gone back and forth on switching Shirley and Abed's roles #but Abed fits grifter better than Shirley does #even if I think she'd be good at it #and I love the idea of Shirley knowing just how to flirt to knock men and women off their game #but the idea of using Abed's skills at playing roles and him not really being accepted as himself until the team won out in the end

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