#because the second quest of the event is taking ages to come around

[cynicalmusings]

heizou’s little letters updating every day in the event are giving me life

[serialadoptersbracket]

Round 2, Match 13: Askeladd vs. Rune Saint John

Submitted kids:

Askeladd: Thorfinn, Canute

Rune Saint John: Max Saint John, Quinn Saint Nicholas, Layne Dawncreek, Annawan Dawncreek, Corbitant Dawncreek

Propaganda under the cut!

Askeladd:

1. "The funny thing about Askeladd is he keeps killing the dad's of characters and then adopts them.

At the very start of the show he kills the main character's father. The 6 y/o main character vows revenge and follows him around trying to kill him for like ten years. Askeladd does not take this seriously at all and is basically his mentor and new dad, even though Thorfinn despises him.

Then later they meet Canute (prince of Denmark). Askeladd kills his right-hand-man/father-figure to toughen Canute up, then becomes Canute's evil advisor/father figure in his quest to overthrow his biological father (king of denmark)

Askeladd ends up killing the king of Denmark as well which makes us three for three on the father-killing.

None of this ever bites Askeladd in the ass btw he's free to kill and adopt and is having a grand old time. He's so funny about it, too"

2. "Askeladd is the leader of a band of Vikings. He was hired to kill a man named Thors. Thors' son Thorfinn witnessed the murdur of his father at the age of six and swore to avenge his death by killing Askeladd. So he joined Askeladd's band. Askeladd, who despite being the cause of Thors' death respected the man, and agreed to duel with Thorfinn if he followed his orders during fights. Thorfinn was defeated each time and Askeladd (in a twisted and mocking way) always gave him advice how to be better. In the end Thorfinn didn't kill Askeladd because - as Askeladd alluded to by his own story of killing someone out of hate - he would've killed him sometime earlier during those 11 years if he really hated him. In the end Thorfinn realized too late that from a hated person Askeladd became kind of a father figure to him during those 11 years. (The mangaka called Askeladd 'an amazing tsundere dad')

Canute is the youngest son of the Danish king. When the Danes were fighting in England the king sent Canute to lead the siege of London so Canute could die there and there wouldn't be any fights for the throne in the future. Askeladd, being a sly mastermind who plays 5D chess at all times, decided to save Canute from the enemy forces so when he'd return him safely to the king he could get into a position so he could influence Canute to protect Wales. But before that he had to get rid of Canute's previous adoptive father, Ragnar. (Yes, it's a pattern.) So when Ragnar was dying, he told Askeladd that ""Btw, the king hates his son and wants him dead"", so Askeladd had to recalculate a lot of things, and in the end he and Canute worked together to kill the king and create a situation where Canute could come out as a strong heir.

In his last minutes, Askeladd decided to not chose between Wales and Canute, and saved both instead, and used his last breath to convince Thorfinn to let go of his anger.

Sometimes a family is a half-Danish mercenary who kills father figures, an gremlin child from Iceland with anger issues, and a timid Danish prince who goes through a strong character developmen by becoming rejecting his religion."

Rune Saint John:

“Oh my god, oh lord where do I start. Within the FIRST CHAPTER of the FIRST BOOK he accidentally adopts a teenager in exchange for a magical artifact during a deal with a fae- this teen is Max! He then later adopts Quinn, whos older brother he is dating. Then he adopts the three Dawncreek children after a series of events in the second book that i wont get into due to plot spoilers, but it was ✨traumatic✨ AND the author had confirmed that there will be ANOTHER kid joining his found family in the upcoming 4th book. Rune is the chosen one, there are MANY prophecies about him, to the point that Quinn; who has the ability to see future probabilities, finds it difficult to look at him. He experienced horrific sexual assault, and he just wants to be a decent person and look after these traumatized magic children. Every member of his found family is a chaos gremlin- including Rune. Honestly this book series is so so very near and dear to my heart, and it handles topics like grooming and assault with incredible tact and care and more people should read about Rune and his queer disaster found family.”

[summertimemusician]

*reading the Four Swords Manga to refresh myself after taking yet another break from the Minish Cap figurine hunt, does a double take and almost drops coffee mug*

So was anyone going to tell me Four is the only Link with at least one alive parent still around who actually did something , or was I just meant to find this out by myself when going on a Zelda binge in preparation for TOTK?

Like, this man is a knight that gets captured and brainwashed by Vaati, duels his son thinking he is Shadow, but manages to snap out of it by throwing a dagger at Vaati while disguised as Zelda. He tries to curb Four's reckless tendencies and to remind him not to rush headlong into situations without his allies and to keep a cool head, it's not much but let that sink in like holy mother of Farore-

He couldn't have know that Link was really himself, he couldn't have know that Vaati wasn't actually the princess, yet he actually takes the gamble because even if he is exasperated by his son and isn't around much he actually cares. Honestly it arguably may not be much and their relationship will likely have some strain due to the brainwashing deal but it's something.

Just, let that sink in. Four is shockingly lucky in that department so good on him, him, Twilight, Time and Legend were arguably the luckiest in the parental figure/role model department (if we count Sir Raven for the time he was around after Link's uncle is gone, which I am doing so by the way, Legend really looked up to him and he's his ancestor and actually very hands on with helping him in the Oracle of Ages manga, a rarity in Zelda in general really and his uncle was also really nice. The only one who was quite as lucky to have a parent/role model actually help a lot in the plot was Twilight, because Time's Deku Tree dies pretty early in during Ocarina of Time after raising him with the Kokiri before the quest and thus can't offer him support and is, ya know a tree, kind of limited in action there). Maybe Wind too if we count Linebeck (this man stabs Bellum for the kid even though he's terrified and is disgusted with himself after the brainwashing for attacking him, honestly props and respect to the sea rat), I think we can also count Spirit if he's around due to Alfonzo? Though I haven't played Spirit Tracks in a bit so I could be wrong. Anyway, he's pretty darn decent and involved in the plot rather than just shoving it onto the Link's shoulders for one reason or another (unlike SOME PEOPLE. *Side eyes Gaepora in Skyward Sword for doing the bare minimum even though his daughter is missing and he's implied to have raised Link/Sky with her, side eyes King of Red Lions, side eyes BOTW's King Rhoam because he really wasn't helpful at all to either Zelda or Link and only did the bare minimum for the later, side eyes OOT's king for not believing is own daughter until Link/Time was already traumatized by the events of the game and coming in to spill the tea, side eyes- actually no, Dot's/Minish Cap and Four Swords' Zelda's father is actually half decent.), They could form a little support group or something.

... Now I want a fic where the Chain actually meets the guy and just, gets a lot of whiplash that "Wait a second one of us is NOT an adopted orphan in some fashion?", That or he just immediately integrates himself as a secondary father figure for some of the Chain members, give Time a bit of a break for a change in wrangling these chaotic green clad menaces (affectionate), someone to bond with Rusl and we can know someone other than Twilight has a decent father figure still around. That or the bigger and arguably more comedic whiplash of meeting Sir Raven, who looks like a young Time with hints of Sky what with the cloak.

[rakumel]

More rambling about Xenoverse 2, and how it kinda sucks trying to play a Strike build.

I'll admit up front that most of the "problem" is my lack of skill. I'm middle aged and this is the first fighting (kind of) game I've owned in my life. The way fighting games are supposed to work, as I understand it, is you spend a lot of time memorizing move combos and getting your rhythm down pat. So when you see your opponent start an attack, you recognize what's coming and know, right down to your muscle memory, how to counter it.

This is not a problem if you're, say, 15 and you have lightning fast reflexes, along with plenty of time to practice. My reflexes are not lightning fast anymore. More like, I dunno, dying flashlight fast. A flashlight you haven't used in years, so you don't know exactly how old the battery is, but it kinda flickers to life after a few seconds if you slap it a couple times. More like that speed.

The reason I even bring that up is because this past week, I had a little more free time than usual thanks to the bitterly cold and icy weather closing things down. And for a couple of those nights I felt like pulling XV2 out again and showing Ame a little attention. The whole reason I'd made her in the first place was because I wanted to try a different style of gameplay. I'd already found a nice comfort zone with Aloe and Yokan, who are great at letting their cpu-controlled partners keep opponents busy while they hang back, charge up ki, and zap those opponents from a relatively safe distance. Repeat as necessary.

A Ki build in this game works really well for me, especially at the higher level quests, because many opponents either teleport around a lot or move constantly out of reach. Not a big deal if your attacks are also long range. But with a Strike build, your character has to be close enough to actually hit the opponent to do damage, and that's not always easy when they're zipping around the screen too fast for your aging eyes to follow. It feels like I spend most of the time just chasing opponents around, and while you can press two buttons simultaneously to automatically go after a locked-on opponent it 1) just knocks them away again and 2) doesn't always trigger correctly because my thumb's not big enough to press the buttons exactly at the same time (even though they're right next to each other!! auugh!!), and it usually takes a couple tries for me to actually execute the move.

So it's not usually fun for me to play as her. But I like Ame the character, and I want to make it better. So I've tried some combinations of Strike moves, trying to find some with a bit of distance that don't require a whole lot of accuracy, seeing if any of the moves unique to Majin help at all (some do, some don't), putting a Ki move in her set just so she has something long-range. Probably the only things I haven't tried are gimmicky, like poisoning.

I've also tried to find a Super Soul to equip that would help her out some, maybe with faster move speed or just a little bonus damage for Strike skills if certain conditions are met. But that's been surprisingly hard. Maybe I'm being stupid, maybe I've overlooked something obvious, but I swear most of the Super Souls in this game favor Ki builds, and I've unlocked most of the ones possible (aside from DLC and rewards from online events, and I'd rather not pay extra money OR interact with people who are actually good at and/or very serious about this game if I can help it).

Out of curiosity, I did a quickie Google search just now on which Super Souls were best for Strike builds, and it seems to point to ones I don't recognize, which ain't promising. But I'm not ready to give up on Ame just yet - I guess I'm just going to have to get creative.

But that'll have to wait for another weekend. The roads outside are thawing as I'm typing this up, so I'll probably have to go right back to work as usual starting tomorrow. Plus I've got another thing I want to play for a bit...and maybe share...

[darshanoftheories]

Second Part, Secret Summer Paradise Event

Last time I discussed the content of the first quest in the event. Today I’m doing the second part.

So first we learn that Idyia also has bad memories of the desert. If we consider the three brothers (and later introduced Maymunah, Spantamad scholar, who investigated laylines in the dessert, something happened and she accidentally landed in the bottle) that is a reoccurring theme. She describes her memories of the desert, like wading through mud, which is curious, cause the desert normally is too dry for really muddy places, though it might hint at her being stuck in the sand, maybe quicksand, or just a metaphor that her memories aren’t easy to access, only the feeling of bad.

Now we meet Maymunah, just like the brothers, she thought Lidyia would be curled up somewhere crying at the moment, instead of fixing things. That characterisation, being so consistent, word for word, makes me suspicious, cause normally people act at least a bit differently around different people, so Lidyia might intentionally act like that.

Another thing I have talked about already last time is the age of the characters, or the time they’ve been in the bottle. Maymunah gets compared to Cyno, but when asked said she doesn’t know him. As a scholar from the academia though, she should (like everyone there) know of the General Mahamatra Cyno, cause if you do scientific misconduct, he’s the one to get you. That she doesn’t know him tells us that she’s been in the bottle for a while already, before Cyno’s time.

Then the whole thing happens where we restore the crystal light, and I’ve noticed that even after we restored it, that part of the domain stays in darkness the whole time. Of course it might be that it’s because that part deals with the light projectors and is generally decorated with pretty lights, so it might just be an aesthetic thing, but still, maybe there’s more to it.

While in the tent, we find the Lawrence cousin, who did have one component of the machine, but also seems to have changed on his way through Liyue and Sumeru, that I don’t get why he’d still steal it. Maybe he just began to think on his journey and stealing the component and feeling the consequence actually made him change, but I feel like we’re still missing the whole picture.

Lidyia takes the cousin outside while we were exploring the tent, but while he seemed week in the tent, he still looked pretty ok, while outside, he was confused, couldn’t remember parts of what happened in the tent, even though he was pretty lucid at that time, and was terrified out of his mind because of some massive shadow in the tent, Lidyia meanwhile brushed this of and said it’s side effects of his treatment (makes you wonder what’s that treatment)

What’s worth noting is the subtle nod towards the Samsara festival, when we say we’ve seen such a candy box too many times. It’s interesting that one of the original components is a candy box, it fits with the candy theme, also because the lights apparently emit a candy like smell?

Inside the tent we also get to know more about Maymunah, her dad worked at the bazaar, which is why she designed the place like a festival, but her parents pushed her towards academics, and she yielded, never truly being happy. It’s the opposite of Eula, who rejected her parents ideas for her, while she shares similarities with Collei, who helps her overcome some of her insecurities. This characters working out perfectly, before already with Klee’s childlike behaviour (and a stern word from Kaeya) helping the brothers come together again, of course makes sense from the outside. If you wanna tell a story, you want your characters to overcome difficulties, and that is the easiest with supporting characters. But from an in story perspective, it’s suspicious. If I remember correctly, Lidyia put us in groups and told us where to go. She might’ve had some inside knowledge to figure out who to best put where.

It doesn’t help that Kokomi doesn’t completely trust her. She’s in the domain, because a watatsumi relic has been located in the domain, I’m guessing a hydro related one, and she’s searching for it. She thinks Lidyia is hiding something, because, among other things, she stayed away for longer periods of time. Lidyia has murmured at one point that just like Collei, she has high expectations of herself, and thus gets nervous, I’m wondering, what those expectations are for.

Kokomi also mentioned that before the flip, the domain wasn’t anything like this, but she didn’t elaborate. It makes you wonder, how different? Not those sweets everywhere, not the carnival theme? Not the rainforest feel? I hope we’ll get answers about this.

The last little thing is that Lidyia has an cooking stove and oven, and Eula complained that she should have told them earlier, so does the domain only have those two cooking appliances, and do the people here actually need food?

With these parting questions, will I end todays post. You’ll hopefully hear from me soon, and I’ll see if I can link the first part at some point.

[cosmos-tree-house]

Alpha Ponderings (...mostly Peck)

An Alpha will always take an apprentice at some point in time. An Apprentice helps to further the Alphas ideals, work, and research. They also take over the duty as an Alpha if anything happens to the current one. The apprentice that has been around the oldest takes the role. I've also decided that, despite canon lore saying different, Species does not matter alpha-wise. You study a topic; that is what you are the Alpha of. However, it is a very rigid tradition!

They usually have at-least two to four at once because of the ongoing Phantom war, but it depends on the Alpha and what they research. An example being Sir Gillbert; he is a literal war general, so he has roughly five fully-trained apprentices at all times.

Going with this... I think Peck is a fun little gal, so I'm going to hit her with my blorbo beam.

i don't know How much from here is going to pop up in the story, since the Alphas probably won't make huge appearances, but nonetheless...

Peck is the youngest of the main Alphas by far, both in age and in leading-time. Only seconded by Tavie. She's been leading as the rabbit Alpha for about nine-ish years, and she had to take on the responsibility fairly young. The last Alpha, (who is unnamed for now) died suddenly alongside most of his apprentices, leaving the young Peck to pick up the responsibility. I think because of this, she doesn't have much respect from the public because of how inexperienced and incompetent she seems next to the last rabbit Alpha. The Alphas themselves collectively don't agree that she's incompetent... but she knows damn well they think she's not on the same level as they are.

This helps push her to help Greely in the Quest For The River's Heart Greely and Peck leading the River's Heart to its birthplace was Very debated by Jammers and Alphas for months. But it earned her respect and a new possible friendship with Greely. Instead of having the public mildly mixed on her keeping her position, they were yelling "LET HER COOK" collectively She is still definitely questioned and debated, without a doubt. Especially with her new apprentice...

Tavie and Peck are also besties now (or gay?) I just think it'd be fun and also relieving for Peck! Peck is very bitter towards the land alphas, so she needs a bestie to sit down and draw with. Girlies who like the arts! The underwater regions also need to be managed by more than one person; Peck helps out a lot. How she does this as a land-animal isn't ironed down yet, likely has to do with magic. I imagine underwater is where the bulk of Peck's fans come from!

On that new apprentice...

I'm going to make a separate post about all of the Apprentices I've got down right now... however!

Peck, directly after the events of The River's Heart, adopts her first apprentice. Who is distinctly not a rabbit like herself, but a wolf. Thought to pose herself directly against tradition, the public is divided on her again. She just can't win lol

[amewinterswriting]

Ame Reviews: Final Fantasy XII

I know I've spoken about this one before (at length, to anyone I can keep in one place long enough) so I'll try to keep this somewhat brief.

Combat. The first time I played it, I hated it. The second time I played it I understood the intention behind it a little bit better. Still not a big fan. To me, the most 'strategic' and engaging part of the system is setting up the automated actions (AKA decide how characters react before you go into combat and then they will follow that 'programming' unless you manually override them). Once you set up basic commands ("if enemy is flying, used ranged attacks or magic" or "if ally is low on health, heal them") most of the game can be played on the fastest mode (if playing Zodiac Age - if you're on the original release, you're stuck watching the real time combat play out, my condolences) and only need to deviate for boss battles or optional quests. Often not even then for main game bosses. Which to me is a failure of a game, if I have to set up a system to avoid engaging with a core mechanic of the game.

The plot. This is my big bugbear. A lot of the main plot takes VERY heavy inspiration from Star Wars, specifically the prequels. Right down to the heavy emphasis on politics and storytelling style. Vann is an orphan in a central desert region caught in war between the evil empire and every other country in the world. His main motivation is... pretty much get out of there and become a sky pirate/gain a sense of freedom. So it's a little perplexing that he stays with the party once plot really gets rolling and he gets into a complicated geopolitical war. He drags Penelo into the plot, by virtue of them being friends for years and that's largely all Penelo is - the best friend who has his back but no agency of her own. Through a chance encounter, Vann meets Ashe - who by all rights should have been the main character - rightful ruler of one of the 'good' countries who went into hiding after her husband and father were killed and the main plot is about her claiming her birthright and finding a way to end the war. Balthier at least has his own reasons for sticking around. Fran comes with Balthier as part of a package deal. Basch has got solid reason to be there. It's mostly just Vann and Penelo that are hanging around for...no discernible reason. And for some reason, the game designated Vann as the viewpoint protagonist.

This leads to a lot of Ashe's inner thoughts and feelings (which directly impact the last third of the plot) not really being explored. We know she must be conflicted due to plot events - any reasonable person would be - but all the interesting storytelling of exploring that conflict happens offscreen. Which is a common complaint I have of Final Fantasy - they often have some really interesting ideas for stories but they have no idea how to actually engage with and tell those stories.

In summary, certainly not my favorite game but would love to see Balthier and Fran let loose on their own for a series of confidence trickery heists and shenanigans because they really were the most interesting characters of the game.

[jcmarchi]

Why Were There So Many Throwback RPGs and Remakes In 2023?

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/why-were-there-so-many-throwback-rpgs-and-remakes-in-2023/

Why Were There So Many Throwback RPGs and Remakes In 2023?

The quality of video game releases in 2023 has been discussed in detail by many, and it will absolutely go down as one of the best years the medium has experienced, strictly in terms of the excellent games that were released. The larger industry and its members will always look back on 2023 with justified frustration.

Patterns in any year are always a given. Trends inspire entire genres to be prevalent, and we also have events like 2009, where there were two high-profile open-world games about super-powered humans: Infamous and Prototype. This year will certainly be remembered for games like The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom and Baldur’s Gate 3, among others, but I can’t help but notice that RPGs citing a specific era of the genre were also, inexplicably, hugely popular.

Earlier this year, we featured Sea of Stars on the cover of Game Informer magazine. Talking to the team at Sabotage about its inspirations, it specifically cited the classic Super Nintendo game, Super Mario RPG. And when I played Sea of Stars a few months later, I could clearly see how the developer pulled from that game. One of the reasons Sea of Stars exists is because games like it are rare today, which makes it all the more surprising that Nintendo would announce a full remake of the game shortly after. What are the odds?

And then, within weeks, Square Enix saw it fit to announce and release an excellent remake of the beloved 1998 Star Ocean sequel, Second Story. That game fits right alongside Sea of Stars and Super Mario RPG as an RPG of a specific era – one interested in telling a linear story without overcomplicating its primary mechanics.

Before all of these games, however, we had Octopath Traveler II, a well-liked sequel to a game that may have served as a strong indicator to people and publishers with money that, “Hey – we miss these kinds of games. We want our characters and environments to look like a bundle of squares while going on an adventure. In fact, maybe it is the game to point to that started this whole thing.

It was admittedly less successful than the others mentioned here, but even WrestleQuest from earlier this year was another game playing in the throwback RPG medium. Late 2022 also saw the release of Chained Echoes. We also have the Dragon Quest III HD-2D remake coming at some point in the future.

So why is all this happening now? Why has this sub-genre of RPGs – inspired by the 16 and early 32-bit – become so popular all of a sudden? Or was it always there, and I just wasn’t paying attention?

I have a few ideas to put forward with little basis in scientific research. Video games, even compared to other entertainment mediums, are much more focused on nostalgia. Reliving the TV shows and movies you watched or books you read as a child simply isn’t as strong as the emotions related to existing within an interactive world. I didn’t just passively play Super Mario RPG when I was young – I lived in its universe. And RPGs are particularly good at that. They encourage players to exist within them and take them at a slower pace. The age we are now (i.e. old) has now placed us in a position where the experiences we are looking to remember are less the action-packed platformer challenges of our youth and more the relaxed vacations. We’re too old for the exciting amusement park of memory. Those rides make me nauseated at this age. But the old beach house where I just hung around and swam when the mood hit me? That sounds great. I want to play that video game, and apparently, it’s an old RPG where reaction time isn’t as important as making sure you have the right sword equipped.

It’s either that, or they are just selling really well, and people are buying them. I accept either explanation, both, or neither. Whatever gets me an HD-2D remake of Chrono Trigger the fastest.

[nintendouniverse2023]

Bio: Diddy Kong was the Spider Monkey son of Funky Kong and Roxanne Kong in Kongo Bongo Island Diddy and His Uncle Donkeys relationship growled quickly bound when he was 4 and they been going out, eating bananas and exploring. His Parents was pleased by his uncle “Donkey Kong” comes to babysit and became a good influence on Diddy.

When he was 8, DK was unable to babysit Diddy because DK started dating Candy Kong, Funky and Roxanne hired Chunky as a back up babysitter. Diddy find Chunky okay, just not that brave. He has brought 2 of his younger chimpanzees cousins with him, Dixie Kong *Age 8* and Tiny Kong *Age 4*. Dixie and Diddy really liked to support each other and Diddy was offered to learn new things and which loved to hang out with her ever scene. Overtime when Diddy learned about the big news about his uncle next in line for the throne, he became super exited about that and would always proved to DK as a legend to him but sometimes over in his life as a Second Banana.

In Cranky's Cabin, Diddy was taken care of Cranky and took the old apes complains and trying to take care himself. After he takes Cranky to bed, Diddy was being sneaky and watches tv with the volume down, only to revile the news about the reptilian empire called "The Kremlings" were attacking the island. Diddy goes outside the cabian to revile the flying croc. The Kremlings began to get out of the copter the same time the head co leader and the General of the Kremling Milatary "Klump". Diddy began to have his chance to stand up and foughts off the beast. He tries to stop Klump, only to be stopped by the Blue Savage and Bulk Bodied "Krusha". The Kremlings get the apprehend and put Diddy on the Prison Barrel. Their leader revile to be a big kremling, gold belly and crown, a red cape and a damaged right eye, "King K Rool" He clamed that the legends are ture as he steals the Crystal Coconut, making him King of Kongo Bongo Island. Once DK freed Diddy, they go on a quest in the DKC1 arc, To save the island, defeat the Kremlings and Got the Crystal Coconut back, Donkey Kong and Diddy Kong have a moment, DK feels a bit more confident about taking on the role as the new island king as Diddy Kong was really looking forward in the future into never give up on the heroic's hopes and dreams.

The Kong Members learned about DK's Capture by King K Rool in his new tactics persona as "Kaptian K Rool" and his evil long lost uncle "Scar Kong" and taken to Crocodile Island. Diddy decied to turn his life around with the help of Dixie to go to Crocodile Island and Save DK. He and Her risked their lives going through Monsters, Kremlings, Deadly wilderness of the Kremling island before going to King K Rool's Castle/Battleship. After defeating Scar who betray the Kremlings, They faced the Kaptian K Rool in the flying croc, leading a few scartched on each other and Saved DK as he emotionally reunited with him but proving he's worthy as a hero.

He was apart of other adventures with the Kongs during the time related to Kremlings or other villains "Bowser, Tiki Tac Tribe and Snow Vikings". Joins DK and Mario events in Racing and Parties. He would take part of a racing in Timber Island were he was close friends with Timber the tiger and Banjo the Bear. He along with Dixie meets Mara the first time, while he was adventuring, Captured by King K Rool and Played some Sports with them both.

Though he was in his Early teens, he might started to develop a crush on Dixie, But he is still going on the Adventures with his friends and Family. Diddy would be a true top banana like his uncle someday.

Voice Actor: Zach Callison

Appearance: Diddy has a bit of long hair on his head a little, A Red sleeveless neck collar shirt with stars on it, Carries around two peanut guns and a jetpack for adventures.

Age: 13

Height: 5.1 incs

Weight: 145 ibs

Personality: Slight Self Esteem Issues, Curious, Clever, Silly, Adventurous, Kind of a Dork, Friendly, Short Temper and A bit of a Comedian

Favorite Foods: Bananas, Peanuts, Wallnuts, Cherries and Banana Pudding

Family: (Great Grandparents) Cranky Kong and Wrinkly Kong *Deceased*, (GrandParents) Donkey Kong Jr *Deceased or Vanished* and Mama Kong, (Parents) Funky Kong and Roxanne Kong (Uncles and Aunt) Donkey Kong *Admires him as a hero/Best Friend*, Scar Kong *Vanished or Deceased*, Goldie Kong and Swanky Kong, (Cousin) Loxie Kong

Allies: Animal Buddies, Candy Kong, Dixie Kong *Crush and Best Friend*, Kiddie Kong, Tiny Kong, Lanky Kong, Chunky Kong, Eddie the Yeti, Bluster Kong *Sometimes for the Both of them*, K.Lumsy, Snide, The Super Mario Bros and Sis, Princess Peach, Daisy, Rosalina, Amatory, Gill Koopa, Mushroom Kingdom Residents, Kong Clan Members, The Jungle Kingdom Residents, Timber Kingdom residents *Members from Diddy Kong racing, including Banjo and Kazioee*

Enemies: King K Rool, Krusha, Klump, Krunch, Kalypso *Sometimes*, Waluigi *Sometimes*, Kudgle, Kip, Kass, Kopter, Kremlings Army *Kritters, Klaptraps, Krochead, Rock Krock, Koin, Kobble, Bazuka, Kopter, Koindozer, Kasplat, Kosha, Knocka, Re-Koil, Krobot and Krash*, Kaptian Skurvy and his Pirate Kremlings *Klobber, Klomp, Klinger, Kaboing, Kruncha, Kutlass, Krook, Klank and Kaboom*, Captian Syrup *Sometimes*, Wario, Bowser and his Koopa Empire, Kamek, The Koopalings, Bowser Jr, King Boo, King Bob-Mom and Wizpig

Likes: Spending Time with DK and Dixie, Having a Father *Funky Kong* time, Jamming Music either with Roxanne Kong or Dixie, Pip Pop Music, Pop Rock Music, Pranks, Going on Adventures, Go to the Beach, Surfing, Racing, Playing the Volleyball with his close Kong friends, Discovering New Things and Video Games

Dislikes: Feeling Lifted Out, Guilt, Losing his loved ones, Being insulted in a most harsh way, Embracing in front of everyone, Letting DK down, Fear of Losing someone close to him and Deadly Ghost

[crazycookiecrumbles]

How Parker Met Stark

Pairings/Characters: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (Andrew Garfield’s Peter)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic depictions of violence, end fluff

A/N: COMMENTS/REBLOGS APPRECIATED/ENCOURAGED: Because, honestly, I don’t know if anyone likes it otherwise so I can continue or not.

Summary:  A prequel to my Hard Enough one-shot, and the second installation of my Crumble!Verse work: The first time you meet Peter Parker, he saw your hot temper and couldn’t help himself.

This is definitely post-college, adult Spider-Man

Something was wrong. Peter could feel it. The air was thick, his throat was dry, and he was certain that the ground beneath his feet may have shook just a tiny bit, but maybe that was his spidey senses toying with him. Perhaps something was happening with the woman he spotted across the hall.

Peter was currently in the MET, taking photos for a high-class, black-tie event that he was afforded, somehow, a press pass to get into so he could catch some of Earth’s mightiest heroes let their hair down. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he was standing here. He wasn’t taking pictures nearly as much as he used to since he was finally working in an actual lab that produced actual results and he made actual money for it. But because he had such a hot streak catching pictures of Spider-Man (and still does, when it’s the holiday season and he wants to treat himself), J. Jonah Jameson reached out to him with a quest.

Get amazing pictures of the Avengers.

He had Tony with an arm wrapped around Pepper, and another arm wrapped around Bruce’s shoulders as he had yanked the man into his side and was kissing his temple while Pepper was watching the scene and laughing at Bruce cringing because Tony was laying a ‘wet one’ on him.

Clint looked bored, but Peter couldn’t resist this photo. The man was literally standing by a window, unbothered by everyone, nearly hiding behind one of the curtains as he shoveled food in his mouth. The man resembled a chipmunk/human hybrid and it was impressive.  Natasha was caught whispering in Wanda’s ear, but both of their eyes were clearly glued to a man’s butt as he bent over to pick up his fallen handkerchief.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam looked like the perfect trio of pals. Steve was in the center, head down, smile on his face, eyes closed as he listened to Sam and Bucky go back and forth roasting each other, with Bucky outright flipping Sam off while said man was using a napkin to mimic an emo, swooping hairstyle. Thor, in typical Thor fashion, was surrounded by women, and even a few men, as he spun tales of Asgard and his conquests, not realizing Steven Strange was behind him and rolling his eyes at the stories.

Then there was you. You were off to the side, a corner that could’ve been hidden to most, but Peter couldn’t help but spot you immediately. After all, you weren’t just an Avenger, you were a very, very pretty Avenger who happened to perfectly fit in the same age bracket as he did. You were absolutely glowing in a floor-length, golden gown moved like water whenever you did.

You were off speaking to someone in a corner, a man he recognized to be your boyfriend, thanks to several magazines and newspapers that couldn’t manage to keep themselves out of your life. However, instead of the usual demeanor they caught you in when together, smiling, laughing, having fun, you looked like you were going to explode. That must have been the feeling that he was having. It really was his spidey senses tingling. 

Confused, Peter slowly started to walk towards you, his senses going off the closer he got. He felt the floor shake ever so slightly and looked around, but not a soul seemed to be bothered by this except for him. Perhaps because of his senses he was more sensitive to it, but he knew what was coming, he was familiar with your powers. He knew what was next for this whole building if things were as bad as he was imagining them to be.

Looking at you, Peter noticed your hand shaking. He then noticed the tips of your fingers start to turn red. Suddenly, he could see the veins bulging on your hand up to the middle of your forearm, and ugly red and purple bruising start to form around them. His eyes widened a little bit, looking up to see your face. Your right eye was twitching and you were gritting your teeth like you were trying to hold back, and what were you trying to hold back? 

By the looks of it, he’d have to guess you were trying not to put your fist through his face. 

Peter watched as you opened your mouth to speak and were immediately shut down by your boyfriend talking over you, hands waving around, voice getting louder by the second. Your eye was still twitching, and the bruising was creeping up your forearm fast and reaching your shoulder, causing you to wince as your other arm grabbed it and held on to it.

Peter could hear the sound of marble cracking and knew he had to intervene. Quick on his feet, he walked over to you and held up his camera the second he saw your injured hand starting to rise, “Ms. Stark, why don’t I take your photo over there? Just yours, of course.”

You saw this as your out, and as much as you wanted to let go of the powers you were holding in and just break your boyfriend’s face in two, you decided that maybe now was not the time to commit manslaughter, against your better judgement. Instead, you exhaled slowly, smiled politely at the photographer, and nodded as he quickly led you away out in the hall, lying to you and saying something about getting the ‘perfect’ night lighting.

“How do you get perfect night lighting at night in a dimly lit hallway? Shouldn’t that be outside?” You asked as the doors shut behind you.

“Nah, doesn’t matter,” Peter turned around and lowered his hands in front of him as he studied you. “I just thought I should stop you from murdering someone during a charity event, as cool as those pictures would look.”

You laughter. You snorted and laughed at him, and while you thought that snort was some kind of combination of unholy and unattractive, Peter grinned watching you shake your head and turn away from him.

“So that’s why you lured me out here? And here I thought you thought I was pretty,” you replied.

Peter grinned, “It can’t be both?”

You blushed, surprised he matched your banter. You scoffed a little and crossed your arms over your chest before remembering the pain one of them was in. You winced slightly and let your arms drop to your sides as you studied him, “What’s your name, hero?”

He smirked, because he was positive you had no idea the double meaning behind that nickname, “Peter Parker. It’s a nice to meet you, Ms. Stark.”

“Yeah, even under these circumstances?” You quipped, stepping backwards to lean under a particularly dim sconce, just to rest your back and get some weight off of those pointy heels you were wearing, “Sounds a little strange, Parker. You’ve got a murder kink or something?”

“Well, if I did, I would’ve let you finish off your boyfriend back there.”

“And watched? Now that’s just a little too voyeuristic of you, Parker.”

Peter laughed as got down to his knees and  angled the camera up to take a photo of you. You tilted your head to the side in confusion and stepped forward to leave but Peter protested quickly as he moved to lay on his stomach.

“No, stay right there. You look amazing like that,” He said as he started to snap photos of you, “Like a real bad ass.”

“I don’t usually let press take photos this easily.”

“I know, I hear you’re a camera breaker,” Peter remarked and glanced up at you from behind the camera, “What’s a guy got to do to get you to spare me?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Not sure. You already got down on your knees fairly quickly for me,” You laughed and leaned back again, staring off to the side with your injured arm resting in the shadows, your good arm resting softly on your stomach as you thought about this particular predicament you were in. “How about you don’t release any pictures of the two of us arguing?”

“What makes you think I took any?”

“I’m confident it was your job to get some juicy pics of the Avengers here, since you’re Spider-Man’s personal photographer — well, not so much these days,” You replied, watching as he looked up at you in surprise before standing up. “Yeah, took me a minute, but I remember the name now. I like your photos.”

“Thanks,” Peter nodded as he dusted his pants off and walked towards you. “No pics of you and the boyfriend fighting.”

“Hm, well, not sure how long he’ll have that title anyway. I’ll give you the exclusive in case I do rip his heart out with my bare hands.”

“Hot,” He mumbled, watching you chuckle and shake your head once more. “Should we get that checked out for you? That looks, well, not great,” he told you as he studied your arm.

“It’ll go away in a few days,” You waved your good hand dismissively. “It’s happened before. It’s not a big deal. It’ll recover quick enough. It’s just going to be annoying walking in with this for all to see now. I left my jacket at my seat.”

“Oh,” Peter slipped his jacket off quick enough, “I got you. That’s fine.”

“I can’t —“

“Come on. You can walk in. Get your jacket, and give me mine back. Plus, I had this dry-cleaned.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Recently?”

He blinked twice as he chewed on his bottom lip, “This year. I think.”

Snickering, you thanked him and slipped on the jacket. You took a moment to inhale the scent lingering on the jacket to see if it was as bad as you feared — it wasn’t. It smelled like his cologne, spicy, warm, and left just the right amount of tingle in your nostrils, and you were instantly attracted to it. You cleared your throat, muttered your thanks, and walked into the main hall with Peter hot on your trail.

All you had to do was get to your seat, put on your jacket, and you were good. Hell, you might even try to make an early exit and just go home, but, no, why would things be easy. Your boyfriend was waiting by the door, checking his watch anxiously and looking around. When he spotted you wearing Peter’s coat after you returned, everything he wanted to say flew out of his brain as he started walking towards you.

Peter noticed him and cringed “So, uh, what were you two fighting about?”

“He embarrassed me in front of a bunch of people and got really angry and defensive when I said he was being shitty and condescending. Why?”

“I think he wants to finish the conversation.”

You turned around at his remark and nearly slammed into your oncoming boyfriend. He looked at the jacket you were wearing, then at Peter, who stood there with his lips pursed, eyebrows up, and eyeballs going in very other direction that did not have either of you in it.

“I thought you were just taking pictures. The fuck are you doing with this soy-faced cuck’s jacket on you? The hell did you do out there?” He shouted, garnering too much attention from those surrounding you.

Including your father, Tony Stark, who immediately sobered up and put his drink in Bruce’s chest as he undid his jacket button and started to walk over.

Peter, however, sensed it before he could see it coming. Before he could even react, your hand was up, your boyfriend was on his back having gone through a table and wound up on the ground covered in appetizers, drinks, and a now-soiled white tablecloth.

You exhaled and twisted your wrist a few times, “That feels better. We’re done, by the way.”

“Spawn…” Tony began as he looked between your new ex-boyfriend, Peter, and yourself. “You know, if you held out for twenty more minutes, I would have won a bet.”

“Sorry, dad,” you remarked as you began to slip off Peter’s jacket. “I couldn’t help myself. Really, really tried, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Tony sighed and noticed your arm, “Holy shit that looks horrible.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, time to make an exit,” Tony looked to Peter and furrowed his brow. “What, you think now’s the time for a photo op?”

“He’s my friend, dad,” you turned and handed him the coat. “Thank you, Peter. It was nice meeting you.”

He beamed as he took his jacket, “Nice meeting you too, Y/N.”

“Make sure you give them a good picture,” you joked as Pepper came over to you with your jacket so you guys could leave. “Sorry it wasn’t a real homicide.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll catch it another day,” He joked with you, ignoring the confused looks he was getting from Tony and Pepper. “Maybe I’ll even see you around.”

“Maybe,” you nodded and waved goodbye to him. Charmingly enough, you gave your boyfriend the middle finger and told him to lose your number as you walked out of there with your father and Pepper in tow, while the rest of the Avengers seemed to be playing games of rock, paper, scissors to see who should stay for appearances, and who could run out and leave as well.

~*~

The following day, you made your way over to the kitchen, feet padding against the cold floor as you made a beeline to the coffee. After pouring yourself a cup, you grabbed the Daily Bugle sitting on the counter and unfolded it. You smirked behind the coffee cup as you spotted the photo on the front page.

‘Y/N Stark, Showstopper at MET Charity’

Of course, the story went on to detail some of the drama from the night, but you were enthralled by the photo. You looked ethereal, god-like, powerful. You could faintly see your bruised arm in the background. Hiding in the shadows, it almost looked sinister, but you loved how you looked. 

You looked to see ‘photograph by: Peter Parker’ and smiled. So he did pick a good photo of you, as he should.

Humming to yourself, you leaned over the counter, “Hey, Jarvis.”

“Yes, madam?”

“What do you know about Peter Parker?”

[shaharizade]

Do you have any recs for books written by Muslim authors?? Under any and all genres??

hii okay most of these, if not all, are ya/contemporary but here's all that i know-

ayesha at last by uzma jallaludin is one of my favourite books. its a pride and prejudice retelling w muslim characters set in canada. it's not particularly exemplary but its one of my comfort reads <3. the author also has another book called hana khan carries on which is a retelling you've got mail, with two rival food businesses competing on the same street, an anonymous podcast and (mild spoilers ahead) a taylor swift flash mob <3

hani and ishu's guide to fake dating by adiba jaigirdar is also one of my favourite books, about hamaira khan who comes out as bisexual to her friends, who tell her it can't be because she's never dated a girl, so she tells them she's with the only other indian in school, ishita dey. its warm and soft and the book equivalent of a hug. the author also has the henna wars about nishat who is struggling to get her family to accept her as a lesbian. a side plot includes a rivals to lovers and a school competition she's trying to win. adiba also has a new book coming out sometime this year called a million to one but i don't know much of what it's about, other than that its a sapphic heist in the titanic.

the love and lies of rukhsana ali by sabina khan isn't a book i like very much, but i'm adding it anyway. it's about a sapphic muslim bangladeshi girl who was caught kissing her girlfriend by her parents and then flown to bangladesh, where a flurry of escapes and arranged marriages follow. it was a bit too dramatic and unrealistic for me, but the author wrote it inspired after her own daughter came out to her, so i'll let you decide whether you want to read it.

a very large expanse of sea by tahereh mafi is about a muslim girl in america a year after the events of 9/11. it's a high school love story and kind of cliche, but it's good nevertheless. tahereh mafi is more widely known for her series shatter me but i haven't read it so i can't recommend it.

counting down with you by tashie bhuiyan is one of my friend's favourite books ever and is about a ya contemporary novel about a bangladeshi-american girl who gets the courage to finally tell her parents she wants to become a humanities student and not a science one (the quintessential desi coming of age moment) side plot features a fake dating scheme going on with the resident Bad Boy™ of the school while her parents fly back to bangladesh for a month. it has loads of anxiety representation and a dadu i would die for, although the muslim representation reviews are mixed, so i will let you decide.

famous on booktok for a while, but i'll still recommend we hunt the flame by hafsah faizal which is a fantasy duology set in the fantasy equivalent of arabia, which features a group of people on quests to uncover lost artifacts in an island nobody can access. i've read the first book and i'm yet to read the second but i will recommend it, although i find it slightly above average. something i do want to point out is that the main character, zafira has a widow's peak, which is something that endeared me to her a lot, bc of how rare it is to find in young adults fiction. the author also has another series coming out this year called a tempest of tea which i'm more excited for.

the family tree by sairish hussain is a book that didn't hit me at all but almost all of my friends loved this book dearly, so i guess it's just a me thing. it follows a british muslim family over the course of around 30ish years, amjad's wife dies, leaving him to take care of both their children. several years later, saahil and ehsaan are celebrating graduating university when they run into an accident that changes their lives forever. several years after that its up to zahra to bring the family back together.

ace of spades by faridah abiké-iyímídé is about the only two Black students in a rich all white academy, and a secret texted who calls themselves 'ace', who threatens to spill their secrets to the entire school. its a very compelling thriller and i read the entire second half in one go, not being able to take my eyes off the page for a second, would recommend v much.

these are the books i could think off the top of my head, there are probably more that i'll add if i happen to remember. most of these are ya, so if youre not into ya i'm sorry <33. there are instagram pages like @bookifiction and @radical_reading that focus on islamic lit and ownvoices if you want more recs as well as tumblr pages like @papenathys and @gaaandaaaalf who have an extensive list of book recs.

[sweetberrysmooch]

HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section

(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)

First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol

Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.

Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3

Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters

Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3

From best to worst:

#1: BadBoyHalo-

Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.

He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?

His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.

While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.

Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.

(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this- 

The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it, 

“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.

“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap. 

“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George. 

And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon. 

“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)

#2: Philza 

Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.

Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.

He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.

He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).

(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?” 

When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail. 

“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.” 

It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)

#3: Quackity-

Quackity:

Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.

He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.

He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon  minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!

As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.

(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea. 

You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens. 

He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)

#4: Schlatt-

Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.

During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.

Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.

He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.

Overall, a good 4th place on the list.

(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head. 

“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Schlatt.” 

“Yes.” 

The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently. 

You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look. 

“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)

#5: Dream-

Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.

He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.

Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).

To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.

Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.

One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)

(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy. 

It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm. 

His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)

#6: Technoblade-

Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.

6th place ^^; sorry king.

He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.

Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.

He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.

As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.

(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you. 

You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races. 

“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.” 

Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him. 

“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.” 

He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)

#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.

Fundy- 

Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.

He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.

Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)

Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.

7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.

(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly. 

The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument. 

He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday. 

So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying. 

You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was. 

Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)

Sapnap-

Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.

Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.

He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.

Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.

(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking. 

At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets. 

“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper. 

“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed. 

“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.” 

You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant. 

Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)

#8. George-

Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.

He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.

To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…

(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it. 

It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth. 

Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)

#9: Wilbur

Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.

You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”

Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.

With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.

(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur. 

“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively. 

“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?” 

“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!” 

You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)

// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3

[phantomato]

Five Tom Riddle Crossover Fics to Read

Tom Riddle is a difficult character to ship. For those of us who want to see pairings beyond the Big Two (Tomarry and Tomione), canonical options peter out relatively quickly. Sure, we can invent our own pairings by fleshing out side characters, but sometimes, the itch is best scratched by borrowing from another canon.

And it makes sense for Tom more than nearly anyone else in HP. Tom was born into an era that is the subject of so much literature, so it’s easy to find another person kicking around postwar Europe if that’s your goal. He’s an archetypal character, the villain seeking immortality, and can be matched against other villains with the same aims. Hell, even his quest to recover lost artifacts turns into the basis for two of these works—Tom Riddle has the perfect combination of a recognizable context and character model, plus the ambiguity of his canon timeline, to slot him alongside so many other fictional figures.

I want to pause on some of these themes for a second. Immortality or relationship to age, for one, is something that comes up in three of these pairings: the Darkling and Koschei the Deathless are both immortal characters in their own canons, and Edmund Pevensie is not immortal but has aged and de-aged repeatedly in his travels to and from Narnia. The HP series doesn’t give us nearly this wealth of different perspectives on age and immortality, which is fair—HP makes it clear that immortality is unnatural and undesirable, and Flamel is notably a ‘good person’ because of his willingness to accept his own death—but for a character as obsessed with the idea as Tom, some emotions can only be explored when you match him with another character who has a complicated relationship to aging. Even someone like Indiana Jones, not immortal and not trying to be, has an interesting perspective to bring to a story because he has seen so many other quests for power gone terribly awry.

Of course, the other thing we get from crossover pairings is the ability to match Tom with a villainous character. And whether you’re a fan of conflict at the start of a relationship or not, I think there’s something to be found in putting two villains together: moral arguments, when they exist, are rarely about whether death is necessary but about what kinds of death are best used when; the entire concept of either a redemption arc or a breaking bad arc can be thrown out a window. It’s a space wherein our two villains are allowed to be themselves, and the reveal of the extent of each character’s villainy becomes a strange form of celebration. This is challenging to achieve if one sticks to HP canon alone, whereas crossovers are a fruitful space.

My selection methodology was to read every crossover fic with a clear focus on Tom Riddle or Voldemort on AO3. I found crossover pairings by visiting the meta pages for the Tom Riddle, Voldemort, and Tom Riddle | Voldemort tags—I may have missed some pairings for Tom Riddle, as the character has over 300 child relationship tags and AO3 cuts off at 300 displayed. If you know of any ships I missed and should check out, do tell! I’ll also make a note here that one of these fics is my own—if self-recs bother you, skip Bluebird.

The following five fics are ordered by wordcount. Let me know what you think!

Neurotic Virtuosi, by skazka

Crossover: Hannibal Rising (movie version). The wizarding world exists, and Tom and Hannibal encounter each other in non-magical Eastern Europe.

Summary: Tom and Hannibal ride the same train when Tom is hunting down the diadem. Tom shares an apple and thinks about keeping Hannibal.

Mature, <1k, Graphic Torture Fantasies

Why?: This is one of those pairings that I wouldn’t have thought to do when the characters were both young, but it’s so much better for that choice! The length of this fic means we only get a taste of their interactions, but what a taste it is. Tom’s internal fantasies are horrifying and described in a very erotic way, which fits both characters.

This also serves as an interesting vision of what Tom might have experienced during his world tour to find the diadem, a period we rarely get to see. I particularly like that the author chose to write it as frustrating and mostly fruitless; a Tom who is stymied and unsuccessful is a particular weakness of mine.

Two Sides of the Same Coin, by Anonymous

Crossover: Chronicles of Narnia. Both Hogwarts and Narnia are real, and the characters meet in Britain. The magic isn’t the same, but there’s mutual recognition.

Summary: Tom tries to use sex to seduce secrets out of Edmund. Edmund sees something reminiscent of his younger self, the version of him who could join the White Witch, in Tom Riddle.

Explicit, 2k

Why?: Edmund and Tom are a pairing made in crossover heaven, both boys of a similar age born into war in the same country and whose discoveries of magical worlds help them escape it. Both lust for power and make poor choices; Edmund canonically recovers and finds redemption from his actions, and Tom does not.

This fic wears the hat of something pure smut, starting in the middle of a sex scene and tagged with top/bottom roles, etc., and it is that and does that well. But give it a shot for Edmund’s reflection at the end, his hopeful musings that he can apply the lessons learned from Aslan to help Tom before Tom’s utterly lost. It’s a crossover ship with unbelievable potential for both characters, and this fic makes me want so much more.

Shedding Skin, by electric_typewriter

Crossover: Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente. Both the wizarding world and the magic of Deathless exist.

Summary: Tom meets Koschei before splitting his soul. They keep meeting, and Tom keeps attempting to match Koschei’s immortality.

Not Rated, 2k

Why?: Immortality via relocation or storage of souls is an idea that easily predates Harry Potter as a series, and seeing two different versions of the some core idea interacting with one another is precisely what crossovers exist to enable. Koschei as an immortal being that found his immortality in a way he considers superior is a fascinating concept, because it creates a power imbalance between them that leaves Tom always running to catch up. And Tom, poor Tom, feels like a desperate man, finding sensation only when he’s around Koschei and feeling nothing at any other time.

This reads a bit like you’re dissociating. The author uses descriptive language to keep the reader a little distant from the grounded reality of the events happening, which has the effect of keeping you focused on the metaphysical question of what it means to have part of a soul.

Bluebird, by Phantomato

Crossover: Shadow and Bone. S&B summoning powers instead of HP magic, set in the real world, with characters’ histories preserved.

Summary: Tom is the second sun summoner to exist, born long after the first gave up her powers and lived out her natural life. He tracks down the Darkling, the shadow summoner who never really died.

Explicit, 17k

Why?: Tom is an immortal being for at least part of his life, and his character arc is about pursuit of immortality, but he is fundamentally a young immortal, and is killed before he can graduate to old immortality. Aleksander, the Darkling, is canonically an old immortal, and his character arc is about the burden of living with the knowledge that you will likely always be alone. That loneliness sets the scene for the relationship between Tom and Aleksander, driving Aleksander’s behavior—he fundamentally believes he will always be alone, even an immortal like Tom passes through his life.

There is a high proportion of smut in this, serving in place of the emotional honesty that neither character can muster, and I recommend it for that. But the story also relies on investment in quiet everyday moments shared between the characters. It’s a fic told through behavior because both men are so cautious around one another, where they nevertheless manage to find sympathy for the other.

Riddles of the Dead, by Maeglin_Yedi

Crossover: Indiana Jones. Blends together the wizarding world and the mysticism present in Indiana Jones films.

Summary: Tom Riddle hires an expert archaeologist and gentleman adventurer, Dr. Indiana Jones, to help him pursue an artifact that might grant him immortality. There’s fucking, fighting, magic, snakes, and some difficult choices in store for our leading men.

Explicit, 18k, Angst

Why?: Maeglin Yedi has been a mainstay of the Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort ficspace for nearly two decades, but an old crossover like this can unfortunately slip through the cracks. It shouldn’t! With an original publishing date in early 2005, this predates the concept of horcruxes, the knowledge of Tom’s early years at Wool’s orphanage, and, well, so much of what we would eventually learn about Tom Riddle as a person. It’s a testament to the author that the story manages to capture Tom’s character in such a way that he’s still fully recognizable to a current-day reader, despite working with so much less canon.

This fic is fun. It’s an adventure, featuring hazards and traps and assassination attempts that you would expect from an Indiana Jones film, but the magic and mystery never overwhelms the relationship at the core of this story. It’s set up beautifully, with a mirrored structure between the front and back halves of the fic that foreshadows the inevitable end of the story. Watching older, confident Indy seduce young, hungry Tom is a delight. One (possible) mark of a great Tom-centric fic, imo, is to be able to portray Tom enjoying the exchange of power, giving it to someone as well as taking it from them, and this Tom is able to revel in giving up some perceived power as he practices being vulnerable with Indy. The romance is quite sweet, especially considering that ‘angst’ tag at the top of the fic!

[hiddendreamer67]

Giant Mers are Good Mers

That's right, it's MerMay baby! Introducing my new bois. Caspian is a giant siren with influences of Mediterranean monk seals and leopard seals. Beckett is a lil' human who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. This piece is a completed oneshot, but I've got a couple ideas for more oneshots with this pairing, including a few ideas for alternate universes (especially after seeing all the fun @ibis-gt seems to be having with AUs of their bois).

Word count: 6,001

Initial prompt idea: human was taken by a giant siren but then let go (on a whim / siren got bored) but human doesn’t know why they were spared so they come back to thank the siren. The siren doesn’t even remember doing that because it was such an insignificant event to them, but now it’s interesting because humans never came on their own.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Beckett had always been a simple fellow. He grew up in WhiteBridge, on a small town farm with his three older sisters picking on him ceaselessly. While he loved WhiteBridge and its quaint charms, Beck found his true passion in books, and studied at Oxford for several years before scouring the globe for his passion. In his quest for knowledge, Beckett chose to join a month-long excursion out at sea, and found himself regretting that decision a few weeks later.

“Steady on there.” One of the sailors, Michelle, handed him a pair of earplugs. “You’ll need these where we’re going.”

Beckett eyed the little pieces of foam dubiously. “And just where might that be?”

“Siren territory.”

Beck hardly believed in such fairy tales, but to calm the sailor’s superstitions he inserted the plugs as instructed. Siren tales aside, Beckett found himself growing as twitchy as the sailors. The coastline hadn’t been visible for ages due to a large amount of fog accumulation. The stormy skies were foreboding as well, indicating that proper precautions would need to be taken. This far north, the weather reports often indicated rocky waves far beyond what should be normal.

Would Beckett sink, out here in the middle of nowhere? Was that to be his fate? The young man began to fret, hastening to make himself useful as the first rolls of thunder sounded off and the waves grew steadily higher.

And then, he heard it. Beckett paused, arms slack on the rope as he attempted to hear that haunting melody. Was the weather playing tricks on him, or was someone calling out to him.

“BECK! EARS!”

Beckett blinked, stunned to find himself standing on the slippery railing. When did he get up here? Beck hastened to climb down, noticing the rest of the crew had their hands firmly clasped over their ears, even with the ear plugs inserted.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Even with the double protection, the voice grew in volume, its booming voice penetrating into their heads. Every single person on board fell victim to its call, the ship’s captain turning the wheel to head towards the beckoning beast. Beckett climbed back up to the railing, plunging overboard into the crashing waves.

With a sputter, Beckett fought to keep his breath, legs kicking desperately against the current. Even in his desperate survival state, the voice called to him, and instinctively Beckett swam in the right direction to answer its call.

Every time the voice paused to take a breath, Beck would regain control for only a moment, his heart pounding as his fate flashed before his eyes with nothing to be done about it. Between one blink and the next, the sky grew darker, a looming shape breaching in the distance. Another blink, and Beckett’s face lost all complexion staring up at his demise.

A great sea serpent, half man half beast, towered with its human half over the pitiful human. With a single shift of its body, the beast created waves that threatened to pull Beck under. Those sharp features and piercing blue eyes were unforgettable, and subconsciously Beck realized this was the last face he would ever see.

Another blink. This time, when the serpent let out a hum, Beckett remained conscious but still out of his own control. His body was lax but his mind manic. The siren reached for him, slimy claws surrounding his form and making Beck shudder as he was raised 50 feet in the air in seconds. Beckett whimpered, coughing out sea water as his gaze was drawn down to the siren’s lips. The creature grinned and revealed its razor-sharp fangs. Taking a deep breath in, the siren revealed the cavernous depths beyond as it prepared to inhale its next meal.

Beckett pleaded nonsense pitifully, tears pouring down his cheeks as the haunting nothingness washed over his mind yet again. Would he even wake once more? Was the beast merciful enough to let Beckett go in his sleep?

When Beckett woke up, he thought he was dead.

He squinted, the sun too bright for his eyes. The sun? What happened to the storm? Stranger yet, the water that had soaked him to the bone was no more. Beck was dry, wrapped in blankets in a stranger’s bed.

“You’re awake.”

Beckett turned his head, his sore muscles protesting the movement. Beside him sat an older looking fellow, hair greying with age. “Who’re you?”

“The name’s Seymour.” Seymour introduced himself. “And who’re you?”

“Beck.” Beckett’s voice felt like he hadn’t spoken in days. “Am I dead?”

“No, but you tried awful hard.” Seymour assured him. “Found you passed out on the shore two days ago. Guessin’ you were part of some shipwreck? Though there wasn’t much wreckage to be found. Awfully impressive for you to have swam that far.”

Is that what happened? Beck frowned, trying to parse out the details. His body ached something terrible. He did remember swimming for a great distance. Had the siren all been a strange vision of his adrenaline-infused thoughts?

“...huh.” Beck settled back into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

“Well that, or an angel saved you.” Seymour chuckled. “You’re one lucky soul.”

Beck squinted in thought. If that’s what angels looked like, he could understand why all biblical depictions had humans cowering in fear.

(...was it an angel?)

Beckett spent some of the most confusing weeks of his life recovering from the shipwreck. Even as his physical form healed, Beck couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the events that transpired that night. He couldn’t get the notion out of his head that the giant sea serpent was real. It had all felt so lifelike, the claws and the fish breath and the dark melodious tones that haunted his dreams…

Seymour was kind enough to open his home to Beck, offering the traumatized lad a position maintaining his lighthouse while Beckett still fought to gather his wits. “Yer’ not the first.” Seymour assured him with a chuckle. “It’s no water off my back if you want to keep me company while you figure things out.”

You’re not the first. Beckett had cleared his throat, wanting to address that thought. “The other people who wash up on shore… did they ever… see anything?”

Seymour raised a patient eyebrow. “What do you mean, seen? Figure you lot have all seen a lot, what with the wreckage.”

“No, I mean, out at sea.” Beck felt foolish, twiddling his thumbs a bit. “Like a… like a merman.”

To his credit, Seymour did nothing more than a slow blink. “A merman.” He repeated.

“But, not a regular merman.” Beck winced at his own words. Just what was a regular merman? “A big one, like a hundred feet long, and pale white skin, and white locks of hair, and piercing blue eyes-”

“Kid.” Seymour cut him off. “I’ll tell it to ya straight. No, I ain’t ever heard nothing like that.”

Today, Beckett found himself on the cliffside, safely back from the edge as he watched the distant waves. His knees were tucked up to his chest, chin atop them as Beck sat lost in thought. Somewhere out there, Beckett’s giant captor- and later savior- was out there.

Why did the beast let him go? Even further than that, the siren had gone out of its way to give Beck a chance at life. There’s no way Beckett could have made it all the way to the shore on his own, disoriented as he had been.

Despite his better judgement, Beckett had to know the truth. With this foolish notion in mind, Beck set out a few months later, having rented a boat from one of the local fishermen. It took a lot of practice for Beckett to learn how to guide such a vessel, as every crest of a wave made the poor lad jump.

Seymour must think he was mad. Often the kind old man reminded Beckett that he didn’t have to conquer his fear of the waves directly, but Beck had just shook his head. Seymour couldn’t understand the debt Beck felt to the creature that had saved his life, and his curiosity kept him captive. Beckett wouldn’t be free until he had answers.

Of course, once he was out on the waters, Beck realized how foolish of a plan this truly was- he knew nothing about aquatic navigation. Every part of the ocean looked the same to him. Even worse, his memories of the last sea journey were extremely muddled. How on earth was he going to find the same location?

And even as Beck drifted in waters that may or may not be similar, the human realized he had no surefire way of gaining the siren’s attention. He settled for calling out often, hoping his carrying voice would be enough. Did the beast understand english? It was deceptively human-looking.

Beckett’s throat grew parched, and Beck sat down a moment to take careful sips of water from his dwindling bottle. The sky was growing darker, and a familiar fog had begun to roll in. An eerie chill began to creep up the back of Beckett’s neck. Suddenly, this plan wasn’t feeling so wise.

That’s when he heard it. The familiar song of his dreams was echoing across the water. Beck had forgotten the feeling, his limbs stiffening against his will like a marionette pulled taunt.

Blink. A gigantic fish tail, just the tip cresting the waves. Blink. Beckett found himself in the waves, gasping as he kicked frantically to keep his head above water. Blink. All too soon, Beck found himself clasped between those claws, water dripping from his locks as he stared at those terrifying chompers.

Oh god. This was a terrible idea. What should he do? What was there to do? All the blood left Beckett’s face, watching the siren lick its lips. It raised Beck higher, dangling the human by the back of his shirt above a now gaping maw. Beckett let out an unholy screech, realizing he had made a terrible mistake.

Beckett squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the words out of his lungs before he never got the chance again. “WHY DID YOU SPARE ME?!”

To Beck’s great relief, he didn’t find himself lowered onto the beast’s tongue. Instead, after the longest pause of Beckett’s life, he opened his eyes to see the siren’s mouth had gone slack.

“What?”

Beck’s eyebrows shot up into his scalp, shocked to hear the siren actually speak. Guess that meant it understood english, too. Beckett cautiously raised his gaze, meeting the siren’s eyes instead of its teeth. The creature looked confused, to say the least.

“You-” Beck cleared his throat, knowing he had to keep the siren’s attention lest he become a meal. “You spared me.” The siren’s brow furrowed further. Beckett frowned. “You… you saved my life? I mean, first you threatened it, but… 3 months ago? You- our ship, and the song, and… I woke up on the shore…”

Unfortunately, despite being the most momentous occasion of Beckett’s life, the giant sea serpent didn’t seem to have given the night a second thought. Beck couldn’t stop the sinking feel in his chest, knowing this whole journey was pointless after all.

The siren slowly shook his head. “That sounds unlike me.”

“It’s true!” Beckett insisted, especially because his life seemed to be on the line. “I was baffled too, but for some reason you spared me, and-and I don’t know why either! It’s been driving me insane. Why else would I sail all the way out here trying to find you?”

“You came looking for me?” This, at least, caused the siren to raise an interested eyebrow. “That would be a first.”

Beck nodded quickly. “Yes! I’ve been shouting for you all day. And before that I’ve been training for weeks, saving up for a downpayment to borrow Ben’s boat, which I’ll probably be losing now that I have no idea where that ended up…” Beckett grimaced, once again meeting the siren’s gaze. “Sorry, I’ve been told I have a tendency to sidetrack conversations in uncomfortable situations. Boat’s not important. Please don’t eat me.”

To both of their surprise, the siren let out an amused snort, the hot fishy air rustling Beck’s hair.

“I apologize for that.” The creature had the decency to look sheepish, even as its words curdled Beckett’s blood. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Wait, what?!” Beckett immediately began screeching, attempting to squirm out of the claws still holding him captive.

“Stop!” The siren hissed, his grip tightening painfully around Beck’s ribs. “You will fall with that behavior.”

Beck winced, continuing to struggle against the crushing appendages. “That was kind of the idea. I choose waves over teeth.”

“Waves over…?” The siren shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. I will not eat you.”

Beck found that hard to believe. He squinted, judging the gigantic face before him even as the pressure stayed tight around his chest. “So, you were going to?”

“Yes.”

“But now you’re not.”

“Yes.”

“...why?”

“Because you’re quite interesting, little human.” The siren admitted. “Your question confuses me. Do you want to be eaten?”

Beck chose wisely to avoid that question. “My name’s Beckett.” He said instead. “Beck, for short. Not little human, or anything.”

The siren blinked. It must be strange putting a name to your not-food. “My name is Caspian.”

Caspian. For some reason, Beck hadn’t actually pictured the siren having a name. Or talking. Or generally possessing much humanity at all… the self-reflection made him feel a bit guilty.

“It’s nice to meet you, Caspian.” Beck greeted. He glanced around, realizing the sun had finished setting. “Can we circle back to the boat issue? I mean, I’m glad this hasn’t ended fatally, but it is getting late.”

“Hold on.” Caspian frowned. “You spent all that effort to reach me, only to leave? Little Beck, your story has holes.”

“No, no no no.” Beck quickly shut that down, hastily trying to avoid any possibility of a vengeful siren. “No that’s not it at all. It’s just, your time must be very valuable, and I don’t want to intrude. And also, contrary to popular belief, I'm not a great swimmer. Hence the boat.”

“Hmm.” Caspian seemed to consider this for several moments. The giant seemed to reach a conclusion, but Beck was uncertain what it was as he was raised up above Caspian’s head. “Climb on.”

“Climb on?” Beck repeated, confused.

“And hold on tight.” Caspian advised, opening his palm and tilting it so that Beck slid off with a yelp. “I was under the impression you need air to survive?”

“YES! Yes, that is- yes, I need that.” Beckett confirmed, quickly grabbing onto Caspian’s hair as best he could. Not the easiest task in the world with how everything, including himself, was soaked. Nevertheless, Beck was wise enough to prepare himself for whatever a massive sea serpent might have planned.

Without further warning, Caspian lowered himself into the water, only keeping the top of his head above the waves for Beck’s benefit. Beck hastily lowered himself onto his stomach, not wanting to slide off Caspian’s head as the mer began to swim through the ocean faster than a speedboat.

“Where are you going!” Beck shouted above the wind whipping at his face. He squinted, trying to see where the siren was headed but having no luck. Were they swimming to the boat? Had Beck really gotten so far away from it?

Unfortunately, the siren himself offered no answers. The night sky and fog did not help Beck’s visibility. In these conditions, he was practically blind.

After several minutes of this less-than-ideal water travel, Caspian came to an abrupt stop. Beck frowned, finding himself staring at a rocky cliffside shore. Was Caspian trying to return him to the lighthouse again? But none of this looked familiar…

Caspian raised his head above the waves, sending Beck scrambling to keep his hold. It didn’t matter, as those familiar claws came up and plucked the human from Caspian’s hair.

“Hold your breath.” Caspian advised. This was Beck’s only warning as he was cupped between Caspian’s hands, the mer diving beneath the surface.

Thankfully, Beckett was intelligent enough to take the warning to heart. He held his breath, eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid getting saltwater in them. The pressure became quite intense as Caspian dove several dozen meters down with ease. It made Beck feel like his head would pop at any moment. Was Caspian trying to drown him? But why go through all the effort of telling Beck to hold his breath, if only to drag it out?

Just as Beck could take it no longer and felt on the verge of passing out, Caspian breached the surface. Immediately Beck began to suck in large gulps of air, snorting to get the water that got stuck unpleasantly up his nose.

Despite being above the surface, Beck couldn’t see anything. He tried not to panic, heart racing thanks to all the uncertainties of the situation. “Where- where are we?”

“Home.”

Caspian’s answer only brought on further questions. Home? What kind of home did a gigantic merman have, anyway? Slowly his human eyes began to adjust to the darkness, noticing that bioluminescent moss seemed to give the space just enough light to see the outlines of shapes. It appeared they were in some sort of underground cavern, the water lapping against a craggy water-worn shore.

“Ah, yes. Of Course. Home.” Beck tried not to think about the several deadly reasons a wild animal might welcome him into its living space. But thankfully, Caspian wasn’t just an animal. He could talk, he seemed half human- that had to amount to something, right?

Of course, Caspian had still planned to eat him. So. There’s that.

“You’re still not gonna eat me, right?” Beck asked, not about to leave something so important to chance.

“Right.” Caspian sighed, as if the question were a mild annoyance and not tied to Beckett’s entire livelihood. “But you have disturbed my hunting time. I’m hungry.”

“Not sure that’s entirely my fault…” Beckett murmured to himself.

Caspian lowered his cupped palms to the rocky shore, setting Beck down away from the water’s edge. “Stay here.”

“Wha-? Stay here?” Beck became alarmed, taking a few nervous steps to catch his footing on the slippery slope. “Where are you going?”

“Do not worry.” Caspian assured Beck, easing himself back into the water. “I’ll bring you back something to eat as well.” With that, Caspian dove back into the water, leaving Beck alone in this dark murky cave.

Beckett blinked, shocked to find himself alone in this enclosure. “I don’t think he knows what humans eat.” Beck grimaced, not eager to see just what Caspian would be bringing back for him. Would it be wriggling? Slimy? Would it be human? The thought made Beck want to throw up.

Beckett shivered, feeling chilly now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. He found himself in an unknown underwater cave off the coastline somewhere, still soaked to the bone in his wet rags. The icy temperature in here was freezing, and the water wasn’t any warmer. Was Beck going to die of frostbite here? How long was Caspian planning on keeping him prisoner?

Beckett walked up and down the shore, looking for any driftwood or materials to make a fire. He had no luck, of course, but even if he had Beck didn’t know the first thing about starting a fire. So with nothing to warm himself, what should Beck do? Beckett knew from all the books he’d read on environmental conditions that staying in his wet clothing was one of the worst strategies for survival, but standing around naked in the freezing cave didn’t sound any more appealing. Not to mention, Beck had no way of drying his clothes even if they left his person. He would just have to put the soaking wet rags back on eventually.

Making a foolish decision, Beck kept his clothes on in the hopes that his own body temperature would help dry them eventually. Coming from the man who went out to sea to search for his would-be murderer all day, perhaps Beck shouldn’t be treating himself as a good source for advice.

“What was I thinking?” Beck murmured, pacing back and forth to try and keep the blood flowing to his extremities. His fingertips were growing numb, and Beck shoved them in his armpits to try and keep them warm.

Should he try and escape? Beckett guessed there must be some underwater entrance to this cavern, but there was no way of knowing how deep he would have to dive to reach it, how long the tunnel itself was, nor how high he’d have to swim to reach the surface on the other side. Beckett wasn’t known to be a particularly decent swimmer. Even just the idea of getting in the water right now made Beck shudder, not eager to get soaking wet once more.

Beckett let out a yawn, the excitement of the day catching up to him. He was cold, and tired. Nothing sounded better than stripping off these clothes and lying down in a warm, dry bed back at Seymour’s.

Oh gosh, Seymour. What was the old man gonna think when Beck didn’t return home like he claimed? He knew Seymour had little faith in Beck’s sailing abilities, but Beckett had foolishly promised to be careful. Would Seymour mourn him? Worse yet, would Seymour try to send out a rescue? What if Caspian found him and wasn’t so merciful?

Beckett was dead on his feet by the time the water began to shift. Beck slapped himself out of his stupor, standing to attention in his semi-dry clothes as the giant merman emerged.

Caspian pulled himself partially up onto the shore, holding out one hand to Beck. As expected, none of this looked edible in its current form. There was a live octopus, still wriggling around, a half dozen oysters, a few slimy eels, and a few other squirming entities Beckett wasn’t certain how to classify.

“Oh, thanks.” Beck tried to keep the disgust off his facial features. Even with not eating all day, Beck didn’t have much of an appetite. But would Caspian be mad if Beck didn’t eat it? It’s not like Beckett asked for it in the first place...

“I was uncertain what you would like.” Caspian admitted, a soft frown gracing his features as he nudged the human with his fingertips, encouraging Beck to eat. “Will this be good for you? Do not be shy, I ate my fill already.”

Beck cleared his throat. “Well, uh, some of this is what humans can eat, but we don’t eat it… raw. Or alive, usually.”

“Hmm.” Caspian considered this for a moment, taking one of the eels between his claws. Caspian raised the creature to his lips. In one swift motion, Caspian used his fangs to tear off the eel’s head, sending a small spurt of blood spattering down.

Beck cried out, quickly covering his head with his arms to try and avoid getting caught in the rain. “COOKED! IT NEEDS TO BE COOKED!” Beck hastily corrected, turning a bit green as Caspian tried to once again offer him the bloody corpse. “It needs to be prepared right, too, I don’t think I’m supposed to eat a lot of stuff found in live fish, they usually gut ‘em and stuff, and I’ve never been one for sushi in the first place.”

Caspian licked his lips, clearing away the blood stains as he tilted his head like a pup. “What do you mean, ‘cooked’?”

Beck slowly uncovered his head, thankful Caspian seemed to have backed off for a moment. “Right, cooked.” Beck nodded to himself. “Guess you wouldn’t know what that is, living in the ocean and all. Um, do you know what fire is?” It was Caspian’s turn to nod. “Wait, you do? How?”

“Fire chokes out life.” Caspian explained. “It creates the smoke and the ash that destroys the shores.”

“Well… yeah, I guess it does do that, sometimes.” Beckett admitted. “But we use it in smaller, healthy doses. You use it to cook your food, usually heating it up and changing it to be healthy.”

Caspian seemed more confused the further this conversation went on.

“Unfortunately, there’s no fuel here anyways.” Beck gestured to their surroundings. “And I don’t know how to make a fire anyways, so-”

“No fire.” Caspian said sternly. He sounded more like a stern parent, banning experimentation with firecrackers in the house.

“No fire.” Beck confirmed. He glanced at the ceiling. “Probably wouldn’t have been the best idea anyways, all enclosed like this. But anyways, no. I can’t accept your fish. Thank you, it was very kind of you, I’ll be forever grateful, but if I eat that I will be sick.”

“...hmm.” Caspian looked- disappointed? Frustrated? It was hard to tell the mer’s emotions, but Caspian at the very least seemed to understand Beck’s meaning, as he pulled his handful of fish back to himself. With a thoughtful expression, giving Beck one last option to protest, Caspian tilted the whole mixture into his mouth, chewing it into a paste and swallowing with ease.

Gross. Beck kept this thought to himself, grateful he was not on the other side of Caspian’s abs himself as the pleased merman gave his stomach a few pats.

“Then what will you eat?” Caspain asked, laying down to be more at eye level with the little man.

“Well, uh, I suppose I can always eat after I get home.” Beckett chose his words carefully, still uncertain what Caspian’s intentions were. “My friend would usually make meals with me. Stew, most of the time.”

Caspian’s eyebrows furrowed. “I can make stew with you.”

“No, you can’t.” Beck corrected. Gently. “No fire, remember? Fire’s needed for stew, too. And we don’t have any of the other ingredients. Vegetables, seasonings, broth, cooked meat… stuff like that. And any we got in here would be soaked with sea water, and that’s not great for humans either.”

The giant siren seemed displeased with this answer, obviously intent on keeping the human alive. This, at least, was one positive note in a storm of negativity for the evening.

With a displeased hum, Caspian reached out his hand towards Beckett. Instinctively Beck flinched away, worried the siren had gotten bored and wanted to do away with him, but all that happened was a giant digit began carefully stroking the top of Beck’s head and down the length of his back.

“Uh...what are you doing?” Beck asked, still stiff as a board.

Caspian didn’t seem inclined to answer. Instead he tilted his head, curious blue eyes intently studying Beckett. “Can you sing?”

Beckett blinked. “Can I what?”

“Can you sing?” Caspian repeated, and after Beck gave a nod: “sing for me.”

“Oh, well, I can sing, but not very well, mind you.” Beck admitted, looking a bit sheepish. The stage had always been his sister’s forte. “Certainly not to your caliber. I don’t think you want to hear me sing at all, actually.”

“Yes I do.” Caspian insisted gently. “Sing.”

Beck let out a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for such a task. What song does one even use to serenade a siren? After careful consideration, Beckett selected an old nursery rhyme from his childhood, both for its brief length and easy melody.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star-” Beckett began, his voice shaking. He cleared his throat, trying to project a bit more even as Caspian leaned in to hear. “How I wonder what you are. Like a diamond in the sky, up above the world so high…”

Beckett had shut his eyes, trying to forget about any pressures to perform. A nice benefit to this impromptu concert is that Caspian had paused his petting to allow Beck to focus. “Twinkle twinkle, little star… how… er, ...up… ah…y’know what? I’ve forgotten the last line, actually.”

Beck grimaced, opening his eyes. Caspian was as difficult to read as ever, the siren’s face passive as Beckett awaited any sort of review.

“That was it?” Caspian clarified.

“Yeah, not a very long song.” Beckett agreed. “Meant for children, y’know? Just to… well I don’t know the point of it, actually, I guess it’s just something to sing.”

“Ah.” Caspian drummed his fingers along the rocks. “It was…”

Beckett waited not so patiently. “Well?” He spoke up. “I told you I’m a lousy singer.”

Considering the siren made no effort to disagree, Caspian held the same opinion, yet he wore a pained expression. Perhaps Caspian had held out hope for Beck after all? But then again, even if he were a renowned opera singer, how could a human voice ever possibly appeal to a siren?

“I thought everyone could sing.” Caspian admitted quietly.

For some reason, this bashful admission is what finally set Beck roaring with laughter. Beck clutched at his sides, doubled over with mirth as a concerned siren watched. Caspian let out a noise of concern, reaching out his hand to prod Beck in the side.

“No- I’m good!” Beck hastily assured him, pushing away the finger as if he had any chance of telling the siren what to do. “It’s just- ah, fuck. What a day, you know?” And with that, tears began to pour down Beckett’s cheeks, the poor exhausted boy helpless to stop them as he alternated between laughing and sobbing.

Now Caspian let out a whine, the trill noise echoing across the cavern walls as Caspian scooped the human up into his hands. Beck gasped, momentarily without air as he was forced against Caspian’s chest. “Shh, shhh.” Caspian hushed him, patting his back like he was a child.

Well, what did it matter? Beck felt like a child. He was tired, and hungry, and cold, and he just wanted to go home. Unable to work on any of those things, Beckett tried instead to take the comfort that was given to him, so overwhelmed by the day that this might as well happen.

Beck hiccupped, his tears still coming but too exhausted to keep wailing. Beckett leaned into Caspian’s chest, the smooth seal texture feeling surprisingly warm and dry for a creature that spent most of its life in the ocean. If he focused, Beck could hear a rhythmic thumping. It was Caspian’s heart, just on the other side of this ribcage.

“I wanna go home.” Beck murmured, more to himself than the siren who wouldn’t listen. “I just wanna go home.”

A rumbling sensation filled Beck’s ears, which he slowly recognized as Caspian’s singing. Beck closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to the call.

…

“...Beck?”

---

“-OI! Wake UP!”

Beck coughed, startled awake as he found himself once again doused in sea water. He blinked, disoriented to feel the surface beneath him was rocking like a boat. Before Beck could ponder that out, a bright light shined directly in his eyes, making him squint.

“Blimey, you look half dead.” Seymour whistled, taking stock of Beck’s appearance.

“I...what?” Beck frowned, looking around. They were on a boat. What happened? Last thing he remembered, Caspian had been coddling him like a wounded babe. “Where’s Caspian?”

“Who?” Seymour didn’t have a clue.

“Caspian! I- the giant siren!” Beck looked around, trying to spot anything in the darkness of night.

“Boy, I think you swallowed too much seawater.” Seymour shook his head, easing Beck back down. “Take it easy, you’re lucky to be alive.” Seymour pulled out an emergency orange blanket, wrapping it firmly around Beck’s shoulders. It was only then that Beck came to the startling conclusion he was naked, stripped of his wet clothes entirely. At least he could see them lying on the deck as well.

“The voice.” Beck insisted, staying down only because his head felt dizzy. “You must have heard him singing? He was singing. What’d I miss this time?”

Seymour had no answers, as far as giant sirens went. Instead, he explained his side of things. “When you didn’t come back yesterday, I came out to look for ya.” Seymour explained. “You must have a guardian angel after all. Caught you in my sights only by change with the spotlight, adrift in the waves. No idea how the hell you’ve got a speck of life in you, jumping in without a liferaft or lifejacket or nothin’. Holy hell son, ya got a death wish, there’s easier ways of going out.”

“I- what?” Beck frowned. “No, that… that’s not what happened.”

“Hypothermia can cause hallucinations.” Seymour swore under his breath. “Shit, you’re in a worse state than I thought. Never should have let you come out here alone in the first place, nevermind with Ben’s boat. He’s gonna kill ya, y’know, if you do manage to survive the night.”

“Didn’t mean to lose the boat.” Beckett rubbed at his eyes. “Got left behind on the way to the caverns.”

“To the caverns, he says.” Seymour rolled his eyes, handing Beck a warm thermos. “Drink. Sit. And don’t fall asleep.” With these last instructions, Seymour moved over to the captain’s chair, starting the motor and steering the boat back towards shore.

Beck stared at the waves passing by, sipping gently at the contents of the thermos. Tasted like hot lemon tea. Beck would have preferred hot chocolate, if shipwreck survivors were allowed to have preferences.

Was it a shipwreck? Did he jump in? No… no it was Caspian, wasn’t it? Dumb seal’s fault for it all. That, Beck was certain. Too bad he couldn’t charge the siren for Ben’s boat.

Before, Beck had barely escaped with his life, lost and confused about his potential giant savior. Now, he knew so much more than he had before. Caspian was real. Caspian’s name was Caspian. Caspian had intended to eat him, didn’t, and then let him go. Caspian had forgotten him.

Would Caspian forget him again? Why did that notion make Beck feel so uneasy?

It wasn’t like Beck owed Caspian anything, truly. The guy had saved his life twice now, but only after endangering it in the first place. But why did Caspian let him go this time? It seemed as if Caspian was intent on keeping him around like some sort of amusing lil’ pet. What had changed?

Beck’s mind was too tired to process through such things. He sipped more of the tea, growing drowsy.

“No sleeping!” Seymour yelled.

“Yes sir!” Beck jolted upright, regretting it when his head pounded. The sound of the waves had changed. Beck could hear them crashing against the shore, indicating they were almost to the dock.

Seymour expertly steered the ship into the harbor, a feat which took a good deal of skill in the middle of the night. Once securely fastened, Seymour offered Beck a hand, hauling the boy to his feet and keeping Beck steady all the way up to the lighthouse.

“Alright, in you get.” Seymour instructed, easing Beck into bed. He piled more blankets onto Beckett, disappearing briefly to grab a warm compress which he placed on Beckett’s forehead.

“I really did see him.” Beckett murmured, closing his eyes as the warmth lulled him into a deep slumber.

Seymour let out a low sigh. “I’m sure you did.” Seymour murmured, patting Beck’s arm.

[tinyyoungblood]

the novelty of lines | tom holland

summary: being trapped with your boyfriend in a bookstore can go many different ways. good and not so good. like getting hit on by a stranger. but does that really matter if tom knows exactly what to do?

pairing: tom holland x reader

word count: 2229

warnings: language, fluff

a/n: if this doesn’t get deleted again, i’ll buy everyone ice cream *laughs through the pain* sorry to anyone who might have already come across the first post:/ this is my first submission to @hollandsrecs​​ ‘s 1k bingo writing event! go check out her amazing fic recs! 

* * *

The echo of another thunder bellowed through the streets, making you shudder and lean into Tom for a sense of safety. His hand grazed your waist and you nuzzled yourself further into his body. “You okay?” You looked up to worried brown eyes and nodded once.

“I’ve always thought being stuck in a bookstore could be quite romantic. Turns out it has some Purge potential too.”

His chuckle conjured a small smile on your lips and you felt him trace tiny shapes into your skin. “Well, the rain does add something,” he said and you hummed. Letting go of your waist, you were turned to face him. “How about you go look for that book we came for, and I’ll go check out some new books they got in the back? We can meet in a few and when the storm is over, we can go grab some coffee. Sounds good?”

You nodded affirmatively and the twinkling in your eyes made his heart melt. “Add some baked goods and you got yourself a happy girlfriend.” Pressing a soft kiss on your lips, you both parted ways and with a fuzzy heart, you watched as Tom disappeared behind a shelf before you started your own quest of finding the newest book of your favorite author. Thanks to an abundance of afternoons spent in this place, you naturally navigated toward a table in the middle of the room that most likely contained what you were looking for—and your inner compass didn’t disappoint. It only took a few seconds until your gaze fell on the familiar name and a smile curved around your lips. Picking up the hardcover, you tugged a few strands of hair behind your ear and examined the paperback in awe.

Unbeknownst to you, your little gesture had caught the attention of a guy your age and invited him to come talk to you. It took you by surprise, but he was polite, so you let yourself have an easy five minutes conversation until he started to hit on you.

Tom was just rounding the corner again when he heard a familiar laugh. He immediately recognized your fake laugh and it made him stop in his tracks. Peering around the corner, his eyes landed on a guy chatting you up. Knowing exactly what was going to happen to the poor guy shooting his shot, he leaned against the wall to enjoy the show for a second.

“So what is a pretty thing like you doing here all by herself?” The guy asked with a smirk pestering his lips.

You eyed him and cocked your head to the side. “Where?”

Taken aback, he stared at you for a moment. “Uhm, you know, here.” He laughed awkwardly and Tom smiled to himself.

Acting like the light bulb over your head lit up, you replied, “Oh, you mean in Chicago?”

Tom had to stifle his laugh as the confused guy ran his hand through his hair. The interaction was painful to witness, but it brought up sweet memories. This was exactly what you did when the two of you had first met in London. You were in a coffee shop and Tom was hitting on you, hopefully, a bit smoother though, and in response, you acted slow and dull like you were doing at the moment. Tom, of course, saw right through and called you out on it. He remembered you only laughed and didn’t hesitate to call him out on his crap too, and that was the start of a beautiful friendship. It didn’t take long for you two to start dating after.

But in contrast to Tom, the guy didn’t seem to pick up on your way to cease the conversation and tried his last sprinkles of luck. “S-Sure…Are you here often?” He hinted and once more, you feigned confusion.

“You mean at the bookstore?”

For a second, you swore you saw his spirit left his body. But he was determined to keep going. “Chicago, bookstore, same thing, right?” He let out a forced laugh and you couldn’t help but smile amusedly. You did have to give him some credit for the effort.

“Hmm. I live in Chicago, so yeah.” His eyes lit up and you felt bad for leading him on, thus deciding to end this talk as fast as possible.

“Sweet, so chances are high that we will meet again…right?” He asked suggestively and you decided to top it off with the sweet cherry of obliviousness.

“No silly, I don’t live in the bookstore, so I guess the chances are pretty slim.” Tom’s eyes widened and he had to cup his mouth to silence his laugh. The guy stared at you dumbfounded and you were almost certain he would leave now. To your luck, that was not the case.

“You can always give me your address?” He tried again and that was Tom’s cue to walk up to you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he gave the baffled guy a meek smile.

“Sorry, pal. She lost the piece of paper that has her address on it.” Glancing to him with wide eyes, you forced a quizzical smile and Tom grinned back broadly. “Ready to go, darling?” You hummed and turned around to walk away. Looking over your shoulder again, you gave the guy an apologetic smile and lifted your shoulder in a shrug before wandering off with Tom.

When you were out of his earshot, you halted and pointed at the prominent smirk on your boyfriend’s face. “You asshole.” He pursed his lips amusedly.

“What a cute pet name.”

“You were listening to our conversation,” you accused and he shrugged.

“Possibly.”

You gasped and narrowed your eyes at him. The corner of your lips, however, quirked up and you had to hit his shoulder in response to his cocked brow. “You could’ve saved me earlier!”

Tom snickered. “But where’s the fun in that, darling?”

Pouting, you turned your back to him and feigned interest in some of the books displayed on the table in front of you. Suddenly, two arms snaked around your waist, and you were pulled backward, prompting you to squeal in surprise. “Tom!”

He whispered into your ear, “Shhh, I’m trying to be a romantic asshole right now.” He dragged you to the very back of the store where he usually spent most of his time, so you genuinely expected him to simply show you a new book he found. Just in his very dramatic own way. When he let you go and you were planted on steady feet again, you whipped around to face him.

“Not cool.” You jabbed your finger into his chest and he rolled his eyes at you.

Pecking your nose, he stepped aside and revealed a big purple velvet blanket placed neatly in the corner of the store. It was covered in mismatched pillows of all colors, and Tom watched carefully as your eyes widened—fairy lights reflecting in them. You stepped forward and picked up one of the two white mugs that carried the soft smell of hot chocolate.  “Did you do this all by yourself?” You asked, your words laced with every inch of surprise you felt at the moment.

He nodded proudly. “Hannah didn’t mind, so I thought, why not make your romantic bookstore dreams come true.” He shrugged casually, but you could see that he was just as excited as you were. “You like it?”

You placed the mug on the ground and faced him. “Do I like—Tom, I love it! This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I still can’t believe it.” Your eyes were twinkling with joy, resembling a starry night sky, and he couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. Softly pulling you forward, you pressed your lips on his and the sweet taste made his heart flutter. You pressed him closer and closer, fingers threading through his soft curls while his hands roamed your sides. Gently pulling away again, you giggled at the dreamy look on his face and grabbed his hand. Once the two of you were seated on the soft blanket, hidden away from the rest of the store due to the big shelves, you were quick to bring the mug up to your lips to get a taste.

Mirroring your action, a strong swirl of chocolate enveloped Tom’s tongue and spread warmth down his throat. You moaned at the sweetness and let your head fall back. “This is too good.” Tom agreed and picked up the book you were still holding in your hand. Reading through the synopsis on the back, a small smile edged around his lips and you giggled. “Tom, that’s a thriller about a guy who goes on a killing spree. Why are you grinning like a psycho?”

He let out a brief laugh. “I’m not laughing because of the book.” He tossed it on your lap. “I just can’t stop thinking about how you did the exact same thing when we first met. You know, with the acting slow.”

The fact that he remembered made you smile and you lifted your shoulder in a half shrug. “I do it with everybody who hits on me.”

“Like a bit?” He asked curiously and took another sip from his mug.

You cocked your head to the side and thought about it. “Kinda. You really have no other choice when guys come up to you with the dumbest lines. It’s a default setting.”

Feigning offense, he slapped his hand on his chest. “I beg to differ! I did not say a dumb line.”

“Probably not the dumbest line I’ve heard.” You brought the mug up to your lips. “But very dumb nonetheless.” Tom furrowed his brows and pouted at you, making you giggle. “Do you remember what you said?”

His gaze averted to the ground for a second, but he shook his head. “No…But it couldn’t have been any dumber than what he said.” Tom jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and you grinned.

“If only you knew…” you trailed off teasingly and he leaned forward.

“What was it?”

You hummed and shrugged playfully, making him grab your mug and set it aside with his own. “Y/N Y/L/N, tell me how I made a fool of myself the day we met.” You had to bit your bottom lip to cease the smile, but that gave Tom the last push to lean forward and tackle you to the ground, fingers attacking your sides and the sound of your laughter seeped through the quiet bookstore.

“T-Tom! S-stop it—Tom, I mean i-it,” you coaxed out and Tom leaned down to your ear.

“Are you going to tell me what I said to you that day?” Reluctantly, you nodded. His hands left your side and you sat up while the last bits of your hysteria died down. Dramatically wiping away some tears, you shuffled forward and placed your arms on his shoulder to lock your fingers behind his head. His eyes locked with yours and he waited in anticipation as you fought with your lopsided grin. You cleared your throat for suspense.

“On the day we met, you came to my booth, and sat down. Then you looked me straight in the eye and asked me Are you from England? ‘Cause I can really see a queen in you.”

You watched as Tom internally broke down from the crippling cringe. He was blushing madly and the tip of his ears were bloodshot red, making you giggle and press a quick kiss on his warm cheek. When you wanted to pull away, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe I said that,” he mumbled and you laughed.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It could’ve been way worse.” He leaned back to look at you.

“Oh yeah? How? I can’t see a way to outdo that. It’s really bad, I’m surprised you didn’t die of a stroke that day.”

“Bet. Harrison once came up to me all excited to read me a pickup line he found on Buzzfeed. I think it went My dick is called Big Ben. And you know where you'll find it. And then he just giggled and ran away.”

Tom broke out laughing. At this point, you were sure people must have thought you two were crazy but you didn’t mind. “Oh my god, what did you tell him?” He reached out to your waist as you turned around to lean your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your figure and you sighed contently.

“Well, he was already halfway across the yard, but I told him afterward that it’s a great line and that he should use it sometime at the pub. I think he actually did.”

Tom’s chest vibrated against your back as the sweet sound of his laughter swept you off the ground. Seeing him this happy was everything to you and you closed your eyes for a second, just to open them again right after to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. Spending an afternoon trapped in a bookstore with your boyfriend during a thunderstorm sounded like it came straight from a novel, but apparently, you lived inside your own novel and within it, you were allowed to dream as much as you wished.

* * *

it’s been a while since my last one shot, so i hope this makes up for it! hope you enjoyed it and if you did, feel free to leave some feedback. thank you as always for reading! have a wonderful day/night peeps <3

taglist: @honeypie-holland​ @himarisolace​​ @duskholland​​ @insidiousslut​​ @siriuslyslyslytherin​​ @hollandsrecs​​ @quaksonhehe​​ @chloecreatesfictions​​ @writertoo18​

[rachelsteapot]

Rescued: Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader Pt. 2

Here’s part 2 for all you lovely people :) Read part one Here 

Just to let you all know, I am aiming to post twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, but I am currently on Easter break so when I return to 6th Form, that may change. I aim to post at least once a week during term time, but that is to be comfirmed. 

Thank you so so much for all the love and support that you have shown me for Rescued. I really wasn’t expecting this much love. You’re all wonderful!

Warnings: None 

Tags: @bat-luna-cat , @nothingleftthaticando

That evening, Tommy Shelby returned to Battersea cats and dogs home. 

He pushed the front door open and entered the foyer, where he had stood mere hours before. No one was there so he sat in one of the slightly battered looking seats and let himself relax. Today had been long, but by his standards, not overly eventful. He wanted to see his new dog, but also this girl that had caught his eye. 

Y/N, on the other hand, was shitting herself. 

The Thomas Shelby was here to collect a dog, one of her dogs, and she hadn’t made any considerations. If she’d have known, she would have had all the dogs lined up and ready. 

But she hadn’t. 

And all that was left to do was pray. 

Finally, she hauled herself from her self pity and appeared behind the desk to see the famous Mr Thomas Shelby light a cigarette. His stunning blue eyes met Y/N’s and her heart thudded in her throat. 

“Please follow me, Bruce is waiting for you,” Y/N gulped, watching Tommy’s coat sweep as he stood. 

Tommy watched as this girl, this woman, gracefully walked across the foyer, opening a different door to earlier. Upon entering, he found her crouched next to Bruce, stroking him gently and whispering. Finally she stood, taking a second to wipe tears from her eyes before she turned to him.

"I hope you love Bruce just as much as I do. He's been at Battersea for a couple of years now and, honestly, he's the best dog ever. I swear, he's got to be part human, he always knows how to comfort you," Almost as if to prove it, Bruce pushed his head into Y/N's hand and whimpered gently. 

Tommy felt his heart melt a little more for this woman. It was clear that this dog meant a lot to her. And for a moment, his heart ruled his head.

"You could always come with us." 

Y/N shot Tommy a confused look. This was not the Tommy she had heard about, and she was not about to become part of some cruel game.

"What do you mean, come with you? You're adopting a dog, not asking to marry me. At least ask me out to dinner first," Y/N blurted before she could stop herself. 

Tommy's eyebrow raised, but so did the corners of his lips. Then, followed a short chuckle.

"The Ritz, 8 PM tonight. Buy yourself a dress, I left an envelope in the donations box." 

"But the Ritz doesn't take dogs-" 

"They will if it's mine, come on Bruce," and with that, Tommy turned and strode out of the kennel. Y/N hurried after him with the bag of dog food, and found the Shelby brother stood next to a very expensive looking Bentley. Bruce followed obligingly and began sniffing at the wheels of Tommy's car while the two humans loaded his things. 

Once the car was loaded, Tommy hoisted Bruce into the passenger seat and shut the door, before settling himself in the drivers side. He turned, leaning out of the window and met Y/N's gaze once again. 

"The Ritz, 8 PM, don't be late," and with that, Mr Shelby and his new companion trundled away down the street. Y/N stood there, dazed, desperately trying to process what had happened. Then, she remembered the envelope. Y/N dashed inside and opened up the donations box, removing a pale envelope with her name printed neatly on it, and opening it. Inside was a wad of cash, easily amounting to near £100, although she didn’t care to count it before she stuffed it into her pocket. 

The next thing that Y/N’s whizzing brain realised, was that she would need to finish work early today, meaning that she would need to confront her mean, and rather sleazy manager, Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was a middle aged man who tried to cover his rapidly receding hairline with a badly matched toupee. He seemed to have no inhibitions, and where his hands didn’t wander, his eyes definitely did. 

Gulping down bile, Y/N approached his office and knocked on the door. She heard a croak from within and opened the door, stepping into the shroud of cigarette smoke. 

“Mr. Smith, it’s Y/N. I’m just letting you know that Bruce has been paid for and collected, and the money is in the strong box under the main desk.” When she heard a grunt of approval, Y/N continued. “Also, Sir, I hope it’s not too much trouble, but I was wondering if Margerie and Alan could close up tonight without me? I have been having a few women’s issues and I feel I would be of more use tomorrow if I could have a few hours off tonight.” 

Upon the mention of women’s issues, Mr. Smith began to cough and splutter, nodding and waving his hand through the shroud of smoke. 

“Yes, leave, just know it will be deducted from your pay for this week!”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She thanked Mr. Smith, and dashed from his office, wishing a brief goodbye to her co-workers as she went. 

Then, she was running towards the shopping district, once again praying to whatever god may be listening, but this time, in the hope that the shops were still open. 

Finally, it was 8 PM. Tommy had arrived at the Ritz not long before eight, and had settled himself and Bruce into a private room. He had ignored the protests of the concierge in regards to Bruce’s presence, and was adamant that it would stay this way. Now, all that was left to do, was wait. 

When Y/N finally arrived, she was escorted into the room by a smartly dressed waiter. Tommy had stood from his seat to politely welcome his quest, but when he saw her, his world flipped. 

Y/N was wearing a well fitted silver full length evening gown. It had small straps that fed into a plunging back, which Tommy had glimpsed as Y/N had turned to thank her escort. Gone was the ragged, almost street urchin looking girl, and instead in her place stood a young woman who could easily have been mistaken for the daughter of a lord. Y/N held herself differently too. Her posture was relaxed yet elegant, and her hands rested in her lap, holding a small silver bag. 

"Mr. Shelby? Is everything okay?" Y/N's query roused Tommy from his unsaintly thoughts as he cleared his throat and met his guest's eyes. 

"Yes, please, please sit." He directed, pulling out the chair opposite his for Y/N to sit on. She gracefully sat in the chair, stroking Bruce gently who had laid his head on her lap. 

"So, Mr. Shelby," 

"Tommy, call me Tommy."

Y/N gulped, "Tommy, why did you ask me here?"

"Because, Y/N, you intrigue me. I don’t often get to talk to people like you.” Tommy’s voice was calm and measured, a drastic contrast to the storm that was raging in his head. He picked up his glass and took a sip, watching the woman opposite him intently. 

“Shall we order some food? I expect you’re hungry.” 

The rest of the evening passed slowly, time running like honey. Y/N slowly allowed herself to relax, enjoying the company of a man for the first time in what felt like forever. And he was attractive too. 

Towards 10 PM, Tommy moved from the seat opposite Y/N to the seat beside her, their conversation flowing like the alcohol from their glasses.

“Y/N,” Tommy started after a prolonged period of comfortable silence. “How would you feel about coming back to Birmingham with me?”

Y/N was shocked. She had known this man less than twenty four hours and he was already suggesting she uproot her life and move halfway across the country to a completely different city. 

“I don’t know if I can, Mr. Shelby- Tommy. The dogs are all here, and so is my job, and my friends. I can’t just leave,” Y/N felt Tommy deflate slightly, only microscopically, but it was enough. 

Silence shattered the room. It wasn’t warm and comfortable, but cold, aggressive, heart breaking. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. Thank you for a lovely meal, I hope I may get to see you again. Please take good care of Bruce.” 

Y/N stood and turned, only to feel her hand catch on something warm and firm. 

Tommy felt his heart break as Y/N rejected his offer. This woman was like nothing he had ever encountered. She was intelligent, quick witted, able to drink just as much as he was, and stunningly beautiful. He was not going to let her get away that easily. 

So, Tommy reached out and grabbed her hand as she attempted to leave. He spun her around and pulled the young woman flush against him. 

“I can’t let you go just like that. Y/N, you intrigue me. You more than intrigue me. Please, come back to Birmingham for a day. We can see how it goes. I’ll get you a job at my company, you can meet my family, and then you can decide if you want in or out of my life. Please, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N felt Tommy’s hot breath on her neck, warming her heart. She could feel his body through his shirt, she felt the way that they fit. No one had ever felt so right. So she swallowed her pride and ignored the voice of reason. 

She was going back to Birmingham with Tommy, and that was final.