#but they've healed through and through and I live on and I get better and I can do so much more now

[neverendingford]

.

[moondirti]

featuring: ghoap x nanny! f!reader. parenthood. adoption processes. fluff. slice of life. reader is given an age range

hear me out: simon and johnny transferring to reserve duty – i.e., serving the military on a part-time basis rather than being on active call – once they make the decision to become dads. it comes after a long period of deliberation (and healing on simon's part), but after they're absolutely sure that they want to start this next phase of life together, they call price to get it sorted.

who is thrilled for them, naturally, but warns that they still have a specialised commitment to the task force. if he needs them, then they best make sure they're there. the world isn't a better place yet, and no one can do what the pair does.

fine by them.

so it begins. instead of the complex and ethical choices that come with surrogacy, they opt for adoption and work with an attorney to facilitate the logistics. months of searching come up with a young mother, whose unwanted pregnancy has interfered with her life thus far, and is unwilling to make the further sacrifice that comes with keeping the baby. they must be more understanding, or otherwise less overbearing, than the other candidates – because two months later, they're in a hospital waiting room, anxiously lingering to meet the new addition to their family.

isla riley-mactavish. named after the river where johnny realised he'd be much happier with his lieutenant by his side.

the first few months are bliss. exhausting bliss, but a type of contentment that neither man has known since they first confessed to one another. isla's fussy through nights but they take turns settling her down, and if they have military duties to attend to then it's usually never at the same time. she's spoiled rotten – not just by them, but by the captain and gaz as well, who visit more often than not with bags full of toys they have nowhere to put. a little princess in the eyes of everyone who knows her.

by month five, she's teething and can hold her head up unsupported. simon reads somewhere that it's one of the most pivotal points in her development.

of course the call has to come then.

in the middle of the night, no less, and loud enough to wake her up from her crib. johnny scrambles to calm the bairn down as simon answers, price's grave voice crackling in from the other end. expected to be a long haul. a month at least. state security's at serious risk here, simon. i wouldn't ask you to come out otherwise.

and they made a promise. no matter how much it aches them to leave their darling girl behind.

rdv on base in a week.

he knows that one week is a matter of grace. he can feel the captain itching to hatch the operation as soon as possible, but has staved off to give the boys time to order their affairs. that doesn't mean simon's happy with the timeline, though. seven days is not nearly enough to find a sitter they can trust, especially given their own hindrances.

regardless, they send a job posting for a live-in, 24/7 nanny to close friends – no way in hell are they advertising it to the open internet – and hours later, johnny's sister lets them know of a girl who substitutes at the same primary school she works at. a real darling, apparently. honest 'n' stowed oot of energy, th' weans love her, and she haes experience with bairns too!

promising, but word of mouth isn't enough. they get a name and ask laswell to run a thorough background check. to their relief, it comes out squeaky clean. no arrests, no dui's, no shady travel history. modest socials with only a handful of followers. it's in line with what they know so far, solid enough to encourage them to reach out. so they do: just a brief email, asking what time and place would be best for a face-to-face interview.

they bring isla with them to the agreed meeting spot. a cozy cafe nestled in one of the safest parts of town. it's an early saturday morning and they're scheduled to leave in three days. so far, they've put all their eggs in this basket. johnny has to hold onto simon's hand when he notices the nerves dancing behind his partners usually void eyes. but if he were being honest with himself, he's just as scared.

they notice you as soon as they walk in.

sitting at a table for four, mug of coffee steaming as you bend over a well-loved book. despite your preoccupation, you're observant – they inch in your periphery and your head snaps up, a brilliant smile parting your lips as you spring up onto your feet. simon tallies a point on the ledger in his head. good. alert is good.

as is true for them, it's abundantly clear that you're who they're supposed to meet. johnny can't imagine anyone but a children's educator dressing like that: a gingham babydoll dress over a pair of blue tights, which carries over to the bow in your hair and is juxtaposed by the white oxford lace-ups on your feet. he startles when you extend your hand to shake his and he finds a painted fruit on each of your short nails. positively adorable. and so unlike anything they know.

simon shuffles next to him. isla reaches out from her bugaboo stroller, the colours having caught her eye.

"well hello there! aren't you just the cutest angel i've ever seen? do you like my dress?"

that's another point for immediately engaging with the object of your soon-to-be care. simon watches as you pull out a rattle from your purse, handing it over to the cooing baby. warmth blossoms in his chest, and his apprehension fizzles out in the heat. they hadn't told you they'd be bringing isla – opting to catch you off guard and seeing how you'd deal – so he assumes you carry the toy around for emergency purposes, like anyone else of their ilk would carry a gun.

something about that quirk just screams safe.

"it is a nice dress." johnny pursues, voice smooth in that way it gets when he's flirting but doesn't want it made clear. it took weeks for ghost to attune himself to it – he always just thought the scot spoke like that – but now that he's able to hear it for what it is, he shoots him a cautionary look. not so much mad as he is cautious. wouldn't want to scare her off.

"oh! thank you very much. it's my grandmother's design." you straighten up once isla gains a proper grip on the rattle, patting the skirt like you're basking in the praise. "shall we sit? i assume you have a lot to discuss, and i promise you'll want to try the maple scones they make here."

"please. after you." simon nods.

an hour later, you're giggling into your palm as johnny deviates into a story of the time they took isla to the hospital because they didn't know the soft spot on her head could pulse. simon is quiet in contrast, though not displeased. rather, he's focused on keeping the tally of all the green flags you've exhibited thus far. he doesn't mind that the conversation hasn't followed a typical interview format. in fact, people are more likely to show their true nature when in relaxed settings such as this, which is perhaps why johnny hasn't stuck to the script of questions they'd prepared beforehand. the man is better at social manoeuvring than simon is, anyway. he trusts him to direct this where it needs to go.

"it can be freaky! especially if you've never been around a child that young. i had a similar reaction the first time i babysat my neighbour's infant at sixteen. did you know that they can break out like teenagers? i noticed the poor thing's skin erupt in acne at just a month old and called his parent's crying." you wheeze, wiping the tears along your lashline.

"have ye worked wi' many bairns?"

"oh, yeah. it's been my primary source of income since secondary, all the way through uni. i just finished a master's degree in early childhood education, actually! and i wrote a list of referrals you can call if you need to double check on any of that." you rummage through your purse and pull out an apple-shaped sticky note. "do you mind if i ask what you do? people don't usually look for a full-time nanny unless they're really busy. not that i'm judging! i would ne–"

"military." simon interrupts, ensuring his tone is gentle enough to reassure.

"that makes sense! i mean, for an indefinite amount of time, the pay you're offering is more than perfect. above industry standard, really." you pause, brows furrowing like you're doubting whether you should have said that. "ah– whatever. anyway. isla is wonderful, just the sweetest. and the provided accommodation is an added plus. if you guys have no other qualms, then i'd love to accept the position."

"does i' bother you that there are cameras on the property? porch, kitchen, and living room. jus' for security's sake." simon tests, though he knows he doesn't need to, for extra measure. to someone with bad intentions, CCTV is a massive dealbreaker.

you don't hesitate before answering. "makes total sense! you guys are well within your right to check in at any time."

and they don't have to consult each other to know. johnny is practically buzzing in his seat, muscles flexed with enthusiasm as his gaze flits all over you. lingering on your chest in particular, before he looks over to simon and smiles in an offensively handsome way. simon can't help but smile back, crinkling his eyes more than necessary so the both of you can tell what's going on behind his mask.

it feels a little too good to be true, hopeful in a way that sets off the alarm bells in his head. he's stable enough to recognise that it isn't your fault, though. stable enough not to pin his distrust on you. this is likely the best shot they've got at ensuring their daughter's safety while they're away, and it's come in the form of a vivid, bright little blessing.

(with great tits.)

he'd be a fool to sabotage it.

johnny beats him to the cause. "ye'r hired."

[ next ]

[bitternanami]

something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.

having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.

im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.

long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!

it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);

[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.

"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.

"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]

like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...

[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]

or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.

[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"

kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."

"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]

when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.

we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.

[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]

(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)

even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.

[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"

he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]

but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.

[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"

senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]

pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good

what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.

one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein

[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."

she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]

and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,

[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"

she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."

laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,

"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."

marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative

and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]

she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.

once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.

because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.

[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.

"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says

marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"

senshi smiles, proud. /end id]

^^^ i want to put this image on my wall

when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)

i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'

[drdemonprince]

potentially triggering but ultimately harm reductionist statement about how people treat those with suicide ideation below, just a warning!

it's pretty fuckin rich that people tell suicidal people that they're "being selfish" by wanting to die, because it could not be more selfish to expect someone to just continue suffering through a life they do not want simply because their death would make them sad.

the people who say that kind of thing never want to offer any genuine help to the suicidal person that will change their life circumstances in a lasting way. they never want to house them, get them medical care, pay off their debts, introduce them to new friends, nurse them through a years-long trauma recovery process, get them a pet, drive them to a support group every week, buy them their groceries, clean their house, listen to them talk about their tough feelings for the millionth time.

lasting healing within a dramatically different and better life is never what they want for the suicidal person. they just want the person to not do anything that would make them sad. and not look too sad when they are around them, either, because even if they do white-knuckle their way through a painful existence, they are expected to also make it look easy.

but it's funny, isn't it, that by pushing away all thoughts of sadness, all thoughts of suicide, the person who says such a dismissive thing to the suicidal person is revealing how much they are on the brink of despair themselves. if, when faced with a suicidal person, your number one goal is to prevent their suicide for the sake of your own emotions rather than to improve circumstances for the suicidal person themselves, well, your own emotional grip on reality must be quite tenuous indeed. if you think the most important emotionally reality about a suicide is how it impacts you and not the person that has done it, well, you really must think that it's normal to expect other people to just constantly silently suffer for one another.

there's almost a bit of sick envy that i sometimes hear when people claim that they suicidal are "selfish." the statement almost seems to betray that everybody thinks of suicide at one point or another, that everyone has been in enough pain before that they've wished for it to end, but that since they have endured, they expect everyone else to endure the same for them, so that they don't slip into despair again as well.

it's so offensive because it is such a deeply missed opportunity. instead of batting away the statements of a suicidal person as if they were the greatest, most evil taboo, a person could really sit with them in their despair and say hey, I have felt that way too.

If only we lived in a world where acknowledgement of suicide ideation was not so taboo. Even psychologists and psychiatrists treat it as this untouchable thing, they freak out and jump into action and rob you of your body autonomy if you are willing to voice that you have thought of it. but virtually everyone has thought of it at one point or another, and some live with thoughts of it all the time forever but still have basically decent lives that they experience as worthwhile.

the legal apparatus that exists to prevent suicides at all costs have made it too risky for any kind of healthcare professional to allow the frank acknowledgement of suicide ideation to happen. hell, even the protections that have evolved online to supposedly "protect" suicidal people by filtering out content about suicide and redirecting those browsing for information about it to suicide prevention resourcse has, counterproductively, served to make the state of suicidality even more unspeakable. it cannot be spoken about, cannot be posted about, cannot be acknowledged, is not permitted, is never allowed to just be.

and that harms suicidal people so much.

we are so deeply selfish and cowardly in how we approach suicide and suicidal people.

[starcurtain]

I wish everyone collectively understood aventurine’s character like you…things would be so much easier! I genuinely don’t understand how people keep getting his motivations wrong??? Could it be because some of the most popular Aven fanfics were written prior to his release? That could have contributed to some of the takes we tend to see about him…thoughts?

I struggled all day to come up with a concise way to answer this and couldn't think of one, so here, have a long-winded ramble:

I don't think early fic writers have much impact in the situation with Aventurine's character now, since most people can look at when a story was posted and go "Oh, this was before we had ____ information."

I think that Aventurine's problem is being a male character in a gacha game. Gacha game characters are designed to sell. Hoyo can sell female characters very, very easily. Give her huge tits and a visible underwear strap and you're good to go. I love all my guy friends, but I'm not gonna sugarcoat it: straight men are not the hardest audience to please. Hit a particular fetish (feet, spandex, dommy mommy), and you're gucci.

Nah, we all know why Jade's trailer is Like That.™

Male characters in gacha are harder to sell because women as consumers are a little harder to predict. Does every woman want a tall, ripped hunk? Shit, no, small cute boyish models like Aventurine are selling better now? Why?! Would a bad boy be more popular than a nice guy??? It's harder to account for women's tastes, especially because they are often (a little) less visually-oriented.

Hoyo is good at what they do though, and they've figured out that male characters sell very well when they possess at least one of two specific traits:

Endearing vulnerability/helplessness

Gay ship tease

Give a character both, like Aventurine? They might as well be printing money.

That sound you hear is Hoyo's stock prices rising.

So, from the very beginning, Hoyo is incentivized to create a character that appeals to people, a character people will want to crack their wallets open for. And they achieved this, first and foremost, by giving Aventurine traits that female players (in particular, but men too), find especially appealing: emotional and physical vulnerability.

We see Aventurine's pain. We sympathize with his grief. We identify with his struggle to make meaning of his difficult life. He's our woobie, blorbo, babygirl, whatever the hell they're calling it now.

He can't hide his suffering anymore. He's on the very edge. He's a dude in distress. He's surrounded by enemies! He misses his mama! He's been betrayed! No one understands him like you do, dear player!

The ultimate feeling evoked is: He needs to be saved.

When people talk about male power fantasies, I think they forget that women can experience them too, and "Emotionally vulnerable man that only I (or my favorite character) can fix" is actually a female power fantasy.

And from there it's really easy, right: the people who shell out cash to buy warps for their harmed-husbando feel like they've saved him; the people who are into mlm ships look for the nearest hot dude to be the savior Ratio was waiting for his time lol.

Morally and intellectually, this type of deep-down-golden-hearted, emotionally-wounded male character is very easy to digest. There is nothing to dislike about this type of character or role in the story: this character is a good guy who has just gone through so many terrible situations, whose victim status makes him endearing, and whose lack of agency means that any of the questionable or downright bad things he does are always the result of someone else forcing his hand, and never something he would have chosen himself.

His motivations are always clear and consistent: get free, heal, and live happily ever after.

Insert the Wreck-It Ralph meme: "Do people assume all your problems got solved when a big strong man showed up?" But to be fair, a big strong man did kind of solve Aventurine's problem, so--

Anyway, it's simple. It's straightforward. Morally, it's pretty cut and dry, black and white: Aventurine is our hero, which means everyone dictating the course of his miserable life is evil.

Hoyo is not remotely discouraging people from literally buying into this emotional appeal.

And trust me, I get it. I'll be the first to admit that hurt-comfort is its own entire genre in fandom because it is so appealing. People eat up Aventurine's tragic backstory like candy! The idea of watching a character go through hell at the hands of bad guys just to finally find a happy end is like the definition of everyone's favorite story.

In fact... people love Aventurine's suffering so much, they have invented whole new ways for him to suffer that aren't even in the game.

This is where we get all the headcanons that Aventurine was a sex slave, every single person he meets hates him because of his race, the Stonehearts are executioners holding knives to his throat, Jade enslaved him to the IPC with a lifelong contract, his material possessions belong to the company, the IPC is forcing him to take only the most dangerous missions where he is being required by his evil jailers to continually put his life on the line... You name it and I promise you, I can find a fanfic where Aventurine suffers from it. 😂

Bro can't even sleep in on his day off; life is so hard for this man.

Being serious: if the game is telling us that Aventurine is a victim... Why not make him the perfect victim?

Why not envision an Aventurine with no freedom, who bears no responsibility for any of the horrible situations he is in or any of the dubious things he does?

It's so natural to like that version of Aventurine, so appealing to see a totally powerless underdog use his own wits and charms to claw his way up to freedom. Or, if you're the kind who really relishes angst: It's even appealing to see Aventurine lose more. To delight in fics where he loses his wealth, where the IPC punishes him for past crimes while he's powerless to stop them... (I assure you, this is many people's cup of tea and the fanfics prove it!)

Ultimately, there's nothing wrong with liking characters who are exactly this straightforward! It's completely fine to embrace characters that are intentionally written to be morally above-board, whose primary role in the story is to generate angst by being a good person who suffers, or those characters who never show unlikable traits, bad decisions, or contradictory actions.

The problem is that that's just not who the game is telling us Aventurine is.

Hoyo may be capitalizing off people who love to envision poor Aventurine still living his life as a slave... But the game also needs to tell a complicated enough story overall to appeal to people who don't care about this specific husbando--Aventurine's role in the actual game's plot has to be interesting enough for almost everyone to appreciate it, not just Aventurine's simp squad. (Don't get mad, I'm in the simp squad with you.)

So his character doesn't stop at just being a pure-hearted victim who is still waiting to be saved.

Aventurine is not that easy to label, and I think the biggest struggle in this character's fandom right now is between people who prefer the even-more-angsty, still-a-slave Aventurine versus people who want a morally grey, self-destructive character instead.

To me personally, while I greatly understand the appeal of fanon!Aventurine and the joy of a really juicy angst fic where characters lose it all, I think that missing out on the depth that canon is suggesting would be a real loss on the fandom's part.

The character motivations that Aventurine shows in the game are complicated. They cancel each other out. They're basically self-harm! He makes almost every situation he's in worse for himself--on purpose.

He is a good person, but also a person who has done unspeakable things. He does have morals, but he's not above allowing those who don't have them to use him to their advantage.

He's both the victim and the victor. He's his own worst enemy. He's a lost little boy who's been making terrible decisions for himself since he was like eight years old, and a grown ass man who is barely managing to fake his way through an existence that destiny is not letting him quit.

This kind of character is a lot harder to embrace. He's done things that most people would find appalling--like willingly joining up with the organization that let his entire race be massacred. He's invented a whole new peacock persona to frivolously flaunt riches he doesn't even care about (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 101). He actively plays into racist stereotypes about his people to manipulate others through their preconceived expectations. He's made a mockery of his mother's and sister's hopes and dreams by endlessly trying to throw his own life away.

He has flaws! He bet everything he had on a ploy without doing his homework to find out if the people he was risking his life for were even still around. (Maybe he already knew, and couldn't bear to admit it, even to himself.) He's intentionally off-putting and obnoxious to everyone he meets (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 102). He terrifies everyone who gets close to him by (seemingly) carelessly throwing himself into the jaws of death without the slightest provocation.

He knowingly allows the IPC to exploit his power and talents for profit. Did everyone forget that his role in the Strategic Investment Department is asset liquidation?! Like, his actual day-to-day job is ruining people's lives. Canonically, Aventurine kills people when his deals go bad.

His motivations change off-screen in two lines of story text. We're told in one line that his biggest reason for joining the IPC was to make money to save the Avgin, then in the next line we find out that's impossible. And... then what? What motivations does he even have now? The whole point of his character arc from 2.0-2.1 is that he was on the edge of giving in to utter despair and nihilism because he couldn't even perceive a single reason to stay alive. He has no purpose in life before Penacony, and that didn't start with the Stonehearts at all??

People keep saying Aventurine was held in the IPC by golden handcuffs, but how do you tie down someone for whom profit is meaningless? What can you offer to a man whose only desire is to bring back something already lost forever? How do you imprison someone whose only definition of freedom is, canonically, death?

Working for the Stonehearts is obviously not healthy. But that's why Aventurine was doing it--because taking dangerous missions allowed him to put himself at risk. The job that he originally pursued hoping to save his people became a direct means to self-harm, and the IPC's only real role in that was just happily profiting off the results.

The journal entries for Aventurine's quests are there deliberately to tell the player what is on his mind, and none of it has to do with escaping from his job:

Like... Work is the least of this man's problems.

At really the risk of rambling on too long now, he's also just a massive walking contradiction:

Aventurine is among the most explicitly religious characters in the game, yet he's one of the only people in the entire game that we have ever seen actively question his people's aeon.

You might be tempted to think Aventurine's risky gambles with his life as an adult are a result of giving up after finding out about the Avgin massacre... Butttt no, Hoyo makes sure to tell us that even at knee-high in the Sigonian desert, Kakavasha was already willing to risk himself in a fight to the death against monsters because even back then he found his own life to have less value than a single memento.

He's the "chosen one" who will lead his people to prosperity... except they're all dead.

He's explicitly suicidal... andddd also a pathstrider of Preservation.

He wants to die... He doesn't want to die. He wants to make it end, yet goes to staggering lengths to continually survive. (Every plan risks his life on purpose--but every plan's win condition is also to live.) He life is the chip tossed down, but his hand is trembling beneath the table. When faced with an otherwise unsurvivable situation, Aventurine literally became a winner of the Hunger Games. He beat other innocent people to death with his own chain-bound hands just to come out alive.

He knows the IPC failed the Avgin and left them to die... and he still willingly sought out a position of power in their organization. Maybe he really is after revenge... but maybe not.

He starts his journey in the IPC with a truly noble goal in mind: to help his people using his newfound wealth and power. He's a good guy who did genuinely want to save the Avgin and repay all those who helped him. But once it became clear he was too late, once it was obvious he would have no use at all for that monetary wealth and power he risked his life to get... What did he do with it? Unlike Jade, we don't see him over here donating to orphanages. (I'm not that heartless; I'm sure he does actually do a lot of good things with his money on the side, but the point is that the game does not show us that--it shows us, over and over again, Aventurine putting on a wasteful, over-indulgent persona toward wealth. We've supposed to feel how meaningless money is to him, how meaningless everything is becoming to him.)

He outright refuses to use underhanded tactics or to cheat at gambles, which is meant to show us that's he's more morally upright than his coworkers. There's an entire exchange where he says that he'll never stoop to using manipulation the way Opal does. But... he doesn't have any issue fulfilling Opal's exact agenda. He was never remotely morally conflicted about denying the Penaconians their freedom by dragging Penacony back under IPC control.

He's willing to risk his own life, which is one thing--but he's also willing to risk other people's well-being. Topaz accuses him of constantly egging their clients on into dangerous situations; we've actively seen him shove a gun into Ratio's hands and pull the trigger with no care for how Ratio would feel about that on their very first meeting... Dragging the Astral Express crew into the entire Penacony plan in the first place was exceedingly dangerous...

To me, I just think it's vital to understand his character through the lens of these contradictions because they demonstrate the extreme polarity of Aventurine's life: from rags to riches, from powerless to empowered by multiple aeons, from willing to kill to survive to killing himself... He has quite literally lived a life of "all or nothing," and while he is the victim of many terrible situations out of his control, his arc as a character involves facing the truth of himself and the future his own actions are hurtling him toward.

Frankly, the Aventurine that canon is suggesting is a little annoying. You want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and say "Why are you like this?!" And he won't even have an answer for you, because he doesn't even know why he's still alive.

In the end, to me, this is so, so much more interesting. I can read an endless supply of hurt-comfort fics where Aventurine escapes the evil IPC and Ratio is there to fill the void in his life with the power of love and catcakes and be a perfectly happy clam online, but I want canon to continue to serve us this incredible mess of a man who constantly takes one step forward and two steps back.

Who is fully aware of his role as a cog in the grotesque profit-wheel of cosmic capitalism and still manages to say he never changed from the rags-wearing desert rat of the Sigonian wastes.

Who over and over again flirts with nihility but, ultimately, even if he has to wrest it from the grip of the gods themselves with bloody, chain-bound hands, chooses life.

[grlpartdoll]

Thinking about y2k fast and furious version of Ghost.

A street racer who's got very little to lose, who grew up in parts of town that destroyed his family whole.

It's only him and his little sister now, and Soap, and Price, and Gaz.

Soap is his best friend since birth, the man who grew up living beside him in the same shithole apartment. He would steal and sometimes he would bring back enough food for Simon and his sister to eat for the first time in days.

And Price, his mentor. He owns about every garage and autoparts dealerships in their town. When Ghost stole one of his cars and he found it wholly destroyed in Simon and Johny's little makeshift garage in the abandoned lot just east of town, the parts undone and laying about, he decided that he could use curious people on his team. People who wanted to know more about cars and were actually ready to get their hands dirty for it.

Recruiting them was a whole other thing, though. They were evasive, disappearing everytime Price went out of his way to find them. He eventually caught them both at the local pub, the two too distracted or too drunk to even noticed Price had made it inside.

Now that's history. Ghost and Soap have made their way into the street racing world and have made it to the top without playing dirty even so much as once. Gaz was already at the top when they began, and he was the only one who, granted a bit hesitantly, let them into the tight circle of winners.

In comes in you. The little wide-eyed doe lost in the midst of their world. Or so Ghost thinks.

He sees you in the crowd one night and it's over for him — can't focus on anything else but finding you again when you get swept up by the crowd and disappear from his sight.

He knows he won't be able to ride properly if he doesn't find you. He's obsessive and has grown into someone who cannot live without getting what he wants.

so he lets Soap take the wheel this time, and the money that goes with the winning spot. He knows Gaz and Soap will probably come head to head and split the money anyway. More for them if they split it two ways.

Either way, he eventually finds you in one of the opened garages on the street they've blocked for the event, gazing into a pink car's popped hood. Your fingers are grazing the parts and edges of it, your face flushed with midnight humidity.

He watches you for a long time, and eventually finds something to say.

"Y'like it?"

"Fudge cake!" You curse— or try, grumbling at the masked man. He has his trusty balaclava on, and it only serves to make your heart race faster than it should

"Fudge cake?" He replies, cocking a brow underneath his mask. You can't see it, but you can hear it in his voice.

"You scared me." You scold the giant in the doorway, his two hands holding onto the upper frame.

"You're off the tracks, little mouse."

"I just got... Curious." You mumbled, soft and quiet. Despite his initial perspective on you, you actually do seem to fit in here. Even though you're not wearing ten pounds of makeup like most of the girls here, you have gone through the effort to apply some mascara and lip gloss and something else Ghost can't name for shit. Something makes your face glossy and warm, but he's ready to bet it isn't makeup.

You're wearing a tiny turquoise and pink skirt with modern detailing, with a shirt that rises well above the decent mark where tummy and breast interchanges. Stockings and legwarmers and leather gloves complete the look. Your hair's up into two pigtails.

He's suddenly self conscious about his treadbear jeans, wife beater and leather jacket. He's all stained with car oil and something else he can't identify from the garage.

"This yours?" You ask suddenly, and he's all quiet for a moment, confusion on his face.

"No," he finally makes, leaning closer to look at you better, clearer. You notice scars and still healing wounds on his face where the balaclava allows. Still, that doesn't scare you, for some reason. If anything, you just curiously cock your head to the side, and smile a bit wider. "No. Wanna see mine?"

"Uh, yeah." You reply, perking up a little. An innocent gesture, but so unlike anyone else he's ever had the pleasure of meeting in his parts of the city. You move like a little doe, all bouncy and flailing like you're too excited for your own body to handle it. "I do."

He nods his head as a sign to get out, and you do, following him as he brings you two back to the crowd, where he's parked. He doesn't miss the fact that you don't ask questions and simply follow, blindly trusting him to get you to the right place.

When you two get to his car, you're in the thick of the crowd, so he has to keep you close, walking with his hand holding the back of your neck. He even has to lean down to your level so you can hear him over the arguing, the music and the people making animated bets on the winners. And if his lips trail a tiny path up your earlobe, you don't seem to notice, only get a little shy, your shoulders shimmying for a single moment before you're giggling awkwardly at whatever he's saying.

It's so unlike the practiced charisma of the girls around him usually, so different from the stuff he has been used to, that it only deepens his obsession with you.

Thankfully for him, the big fuss is centered around Johny and Gaz and another rider he doesn't know personally, though, so he's got you all to himself for the moment as he shows off his baby.

He even lets you sit in the front and lets you get a feel for the leather seats, asking off-handedly how you felt about being a passenger princess for the rest of your life. You laugh, and don't reply, taking it as a joke. He wasn't joking. But that's okay. He laughs too, deep and hoarse and unpredictably rough.

Later, when the night has settled and the winner has been announced and you've cheered and whooped at your heart's content for Gaz and Soap (Ghost told you to cheer for them, so you did..), Simon even lets you have a ride around in his special, (very illegally modified) car !!!

He takes you to his favorite spot, a rundown drive-in movie theater that no longer works, and the both of you speak until the sun rises at the horizon. You fall asleep eventually, and Simon just watches as you slumber, amazed that he's caught himself such a pretty little thing.

That's all I have tbh I just think it could make a Very interesting plot.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

All Hours

Day #1 - Prompt: Secret Relationship | Word Count: 1125 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Steve & Wayne

Steve parks outside of the trailer park and walks in. Careful to avoid the streetlights and the corners where there are known yapping dogs.

He approaches Eddie's window on the back side of the new trailer, and moves to push open the screen, to let himself inside without waking up Eddie, or Wayne. He just hikes his foot up into the sill when he's startled. 

"We do have a front door, you know," comes the lazy drawl, and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin, heart hammering wildly in his chest. He tries to suck in a breath, gripping the edge of the window frame, finally looking over at Wayne as he sits on the back steps, cigarette burning between his fingers.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, taking a step back from the house, pulling the window closed, putting some distance between himself and the room where Eddie is surely sleeping.

Eddie sleeps all the time these days. The doctors swear it's just part of his healing process, the recovery, but Steve still worries. All the time. Everyday. It's impossible not to. Eddie's healed so slowly, after being so close to death, that Steve's terrified he'll never fully recover.

"C'mere, kid," Wayne says, and pats the step beside him. 

Steve goes, but is a little wary. Wayne and him haven't really spent that much time together, they were just ships passing in the night while Eddie was in the hospital. Each taking their turn, and then handing the baton off to the other.

Steve sits down, and folds his hands in his lap.

"I know you've been sneaking in and out of his window during all hours of the day and night, for, well, months now," Wayne says, just barely above a murmur. 

"I'm sorry. I just worry about him," Steve says, and that's the truth. Most of it, anyway. 

There have been a couple quick, tentative kisses, but that's it. Eddie isn't strong enough for anything else, definitely nothing as tawdry as Wayne seems to be implying. It's pretty innocent, this thing they've got going. 

Steve's snuck in a lot of windows in his lifetime, but none compare to crawling over the sill of Eddie's window, and onto the chair Eddie now leaves there to ease Steve's entrance. None have been as chaste as this either. Steve's never spent months pursuing someone, hell, loving someone, that he didn't win over.

Even Robin, he counts as a win. It's platonic love, for sure, but he worked his Harrington charm on her, and got her to love him.

"I know you worry, but we have a front door. You're welcome to use it. Day or night," Wayne says, low and almost too soft to hear, even in the still of the night.

"Oh," Steve says, like this hadn't been something he'd ever considered, and honestly, it hasn't been, "okay."

"Okay," Wayne agrees, and he digs in his shirt pocket and fishes out a single key on a ring. "Here. So I can lock it. I worry about him, about someone coming after him again. And I wanted to put better locks on all the windows, but Eddie protested. Any idea why?" Wayne asks, and it's playful, in a very dry way.

Steve laughs, reaching out and taking the key, closing his hand around it, tight.

"Okay, I'll come through the door."

"Thank you," Wayne says.

"And I'll help with the window locks. If you want," Steve offers, and Wayne nods, like he's accepting this offer.

Now, Steve isn't sure if he should get up and leave, or keep sitting, or what. He stays.

"I don't care, you know," Wayne finally says.

"Don't care?" Steve questions, wanting him to clarify. 

"If you boys are more than friends," Wayne says, and Steve hadn't expected it.

"Oh," Steve breathes out.

"He's my boy, and I want him to be happy. Whatever that means for him," Wayne explains and Steve suddenly feels like his eyes are burning.

He wishes his dad would be as invested in his happiness as Wayne clearly is about Eddie's.

"Thank you," Steve says, "it's…nothing, not really. We're just friends."

Wayne turns to look at him, and grins, "If you say so."

Steve feels like he's lying, even if he isn't. Not really.

"But we could be more than that, maybe, someday. When he's feeling better. Maybe, if he's interested in that," Steve rambles.

Wayne smiles, takes a deep drag on his cigarette, and blows it up into the night sky, "Oh, he's definitely interested. Steve Harrington this, Steve Harrington that. Let me tell you. I've heard your name more in the past few months than I've heard my own."

Steve laughs at that, unexpected and far too loud, and it doesn't take long before Eddie's bedroom window is being shoved open, his head popping out. His hair is a mess, tangled and frizzy, but he's on his feet, and that's a damn good look on him.

It's a beautiful sight. But he always is.

"What? Are you two having fun without me?" Eddie asks, like he's not at all surprised to see them together. Like this whole sneaking through the window thing wasn't a top secret operation.

Was it not a secret?

Steve turns back towards Wayne, "How long have you known I was coming through the window?"

"Since the first night," Wayne admits, "I heard you floundering in, and came to the door to check on him, but I heard Eddie laughing, so I knew he was okay. I asked him in the morning who was making such a racket, and he said it was you."

Steve laughs at himself, apparently he was trying to be stealthy for Eddie's benefit, but they weren't on the same page.

"C'mon in, Harrington. Henderson brought over some new tapes earlier," Eddie says, and Steve stands.

Wayne nods his head towards the back door, "It's unlocked. But your key will work there, too."

And Steve pulls it open, heading towards Eddie's room. Eddie is back in bed, propped up, remote in hand for the VCR Steve had set up in Eddie's room months ago, thinking they'd get better use out of it here, than Steve would at home, these days.

Steve settles next to him, "What do we got tonight?"

"Back to the Future, have you seen it?" Eddie asks.

"Only while very drugged by the Russians," Steve admits, "it'll be nice to see it again."

Steve's sure there's no chance Eddie will stay awake for an entire movie, but he'll be happy to sit with him, no matter what.

"You're so weird, Harrington," Eddie says, but it sounds affectionate, and Steve will take it, as Eddie leans his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Yeah, well. Back at ya, Munson."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!

[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~* Romance Era Savanaclaw

|| Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore + Ignihyde || Diasomnia ||

It started off as a normal afternoon. You and your boyfriend just laid down for an impromptu nap, cuddled close together and safe in each other's arms. So you can imagine their surprise when they wake up to find the bed spotted with blood. Pulling the blankets back, they see the blood coming from you...

FIRST REACTION

Leona

Woke you up whipping the covers off of you. Manhandles you to check where the blood is coming from.

You better talk loud and fast, because once he sees you're bleeding out of your pussy he's hauling you to the infirmary.

Explaining is a 50/50 on how quickly he believes you. The Sunset Savanah values women very highly so female anatomy is heavily researched and he has NEVER heard of this bullshit before.

You're gonna need to debate with him for a WHILE. But he will at some point accept this is...something that's happening.

Ruggie

Woke you up with his manhandling. Smelled the blood and freaked out before even waking you up. Once he realized he wasn't the one bleeding he checked you over.

Tries to take you to the infirmary. He will use his brittle bones and drag your ass if you say you didn't need to go.

Once you explained he legit asks 'So...You're not pregnant?' Refuses to answer when you ask what the fuck he means by that

Clearly concerned, but he also offers to wash the sheets since they've already got blood on them.

Jack

WOKE YOU UP BY FLINGING YOU ONTO HIS SHOULDER.

He woke up smelling the blood before he fully registered what he was even smelling. Working fully on instinct and just wants to get you to the infirmary as soon as possible.

Finally snaps back like halfway through the woods. Asks a lot of questions and doesn't put you down until prompted.

Lowkey embarrassed he freaked out so bad but like...you're bleeding are you SURE you don't need the infirmary-

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY?

Leona

Lowkey he stays the fuck away in the weirdest way.

You never really see him until you're craving something or it's mealtime. He brings you lunch personally, stares at you until you've eaten it.

Has Ruggie under instruction that your orders come before his for the time being. Yes Ruggie uses this as a reason to slack off until Leona realizes

You know how cats will lay on you and give healing energy when you're sick? Yeah, he's like that. Only he weighs a fucking ton and he's got a resting bitch face that's only been getting worse because he HATES smelling your blood.

The rumbles he makes for you feel SO GOOD, though. While he's slacking in other avenues of helping, he is so soft and tender, making sure you're cozy and fed.

Worst one to deal with PMS mood swings. I can't even pinpoint why, he just seems like no matter how he answers it'll piss you off more.

Ruggie

Leona who???? Ruggie Bucchi has only served one master in his life and it is you.

Hyena brain kicked into overdrive at some point and now he's fully evolved into his final form of doting househusband, without the house and without the ring.

Makes sure you're eating three good meals a day. He doesn't even care if it's just junk food cravings. So long as you're eating he doesn't care.

This boy has gotten your laundry on lock. Clean sheets every morning and a warm towel to lay on at night, not a speck of blood stains in sight. Your comfort is his mission.

Actually comes through with the home remedies for pain relief.

Lowkey kinda scared of you if you get mood swings. Very 'agrees with you to save his life' type.

He's become so submissive, won't look you in the eyes. Hold him, please. Legit still thinks you're in active labor and freaking out over a baby that doesn't exist.

Jack

He's trained for this...not really. But damn is he good at taking care of you.

Jack's a graduated student of Vil's Live, Breath, Grind mindset. He knows how to keep you alive and even thriving. You just gotta...get up.

He tries so hard to keep you on your normal schedule but he can also see that some days you literally don't want to leave the bed and he will lay down and just hold you.

The blood is MADDENING. He will do your laundry regularly, just to escape the blood smell for a few hours.

Resource guarding, but for you. Ace trying to steal a singluar fry at lunch? growl..., Epel slapped you on the arm? Growl. Deuce standing too close??? GROWL.

Lowkey acts like a manservant who will tell you that maybe you wouldn't feel like shit if you ate properly and actually did the stretches he told you to do.

Backtracks every statement the moment you're angry at him.

AFTER THE FACT

Leona

Don't do that...ever again. The fuck you mean you HAVE TO??

Literally annoyed that periods are the 'normal' for you. Not annoyed at the fact you get them, but just that you have to be in pain every month and it fucks up your moods. And that fucks up his naps.

Lowkey everyone who can't smell the blood knows you're on your period because Leona is a cranky bastard to everyone else while you're on it.

Actually heavily invests on natural pain remedies from the Sunset Savana for your next period so that you don't have to take so many potions

He figures out the hormone cycle once he starts to really focus on your scent and how it starts changing like a week or so before your period starts. Has a mental countdown to keep track and will disappear to prep like a day before you get it.

Ruggie

That was fucking AWFUL.

Has resigned to the fact this is gonna happen again and just kinda sighed and thought about his life for an hour or two.

Then comes back all smiles and is finally acting like his normal self again.

He is mentally reviewing EVERYTHING that happened so that when your period hits again he's even better at taking care of you.

Doesn't try to track your period but is able to learn the signs of it coming after a few months.

Jack

Literally checked out an anatomy book from the library, it isn't helpful.

States he's not too worried for the next period, you both managed to survive this one just fine.

Is using a small amount of his free time to research natural pain relief, exercises that can ease muscle cramps, foods that will help boost energy.

No, this isn't for your period, this is just general knowledge he'd need as an athlete.

Weirdly, syncs up with you??? If your period starts, he gets easily agitated before mellowing out after like a day.

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY? ♡NSFW♡

Leona

Still makes you do most of the work. Pillow princess ass.

Willing to let you use him like a sex toy though. You will just be doing most of the work.

Though, when you CAN get him to actively participate, is strangely romantic with it.

Lots of cradled positions and spooning with him kissing on your neck.

Ruggie

I canon four people in the Twist boy line up as being fully prepared to suck the period out of you.

Ruggie is one of them.

Just give him the okay and he's down there to give you the best damn orgasm of your LIFE.

While the blood is distressing to smell, he finds giving oral on your period to be kind of a vibe.

Jack

Takes the LONGEST time to be convinced that having sex on your period is normal and what you actually want.

He can understand that your period fucks up your hormones and he legit brings in the concept of consent when you're in 'such a state'.

You do eventually have period sex, but it takes you having at least another period before he's fully convinced that you're consenting and not locked in some weird 'Mating Brain' state.

From there he is rocking your world in the name of pain relief.

[melancholiaincarnate]

hell-bent

warnings: brief descriptions of pain and injuries

note: helloo :3 this is another little ficlet to this fic . im going to make a series masterlist - eventually - but i cannot be bothered to do so right now. anyways - if u wanna see more of them lmk or send in requests hehehehehe

"oh she is the cutest!" feyre swoons, her arms extending towards the child that's hiding behind temperance.

"say hi, piper." you look down and behind your legs to where the girl is clutching onto your pant thighs. though she's got a small fear in her eyes, she still peeks out slightly, taking in the view of your family. five very intense pairs of eyes stare back at her. "it's okay, pip." you whisper, "they're my family."

"hello everyone." she says softly, her voice no higher than the squeak of a small kitchen mouse. "where's azzy?" she questions, looking up and big eyes stare at you.

rhys looks at feyre, a knowing smirk playing upon his face, and a matching one on hers. they've both got that look in their eyes that they get when they're communicating through the bond - you roll your eyes knowing that they're never going to let azriel live down the nickname.

"he'll be here soon. he's just a little busy right now." you smooth down her hair with a gentle hand and she frowns, stepping behind you more as cassian approaches, a grin on his features.

"since when do you have a kid?" he questions, crouching down to eye level with piper. he cranes his neck to attempt to see her but she tucks herself behind you even more. "ooh! lemme guess the father. lemme guess - it's az, isn't it! i always knew you two were fucking."

"she's not mine. and watch your mouth." you huff, kicking cassian lightly and he topples over. "remember the mission rhys sent me on?" cassian nods from his spot on the floor. "i found her." you wince at your choice of words - you definitely could've phrased that better. piper seems to be unaffected by your words, instead choosing to let her shadows sniff out cassian.

"what do you mean you found her? you can't just take people's kids, dude. that's super illegal." cassian scoffs, "how do you 'find' a kid and just take her? rhys, that has to be illegal-" he sits up, but his eyes furrow as he sees little tendrils of black whirling around his arms. "isn't that-"

"there's another shadowsinger in velaris." rhys muses from his spot at the table. "we thought it best for her to come here and train here with our shadowsinger."

"so you just.. took her?" cassian looks bewildered, "dude.. this high lord shit has to have some rules to it. you can't just take kids!" he stands up, stretching, before peeking around your legs to see pip staring back at him. "hi." he grins, "i'm cassian." then, he bends down to whisper, "i'm kind of the coolest one here. everyone else here sucks."

"pip, don't listen to him. he's a moron." you sigh and hear little giggles from behind you, whispers of shadows trailing up your arms. there was one shadow though, that stayed nestled in your neck. it didn't belong to the girl, no, it was one of azriel's shadows that had seemed to take a strong liking to you and preferred you over its master.

"you're very silly mr. cassian." she comments, peeking out a little more. you're grateful for cassian's resolve and the things he's seen - you don't know what you'd do if he made piper feel any worse about her current condition. you don't know what azriel would do if he found out that someone dared look at piper with disgust.

piper steps out and the inner circle holds their breaths. her left eye has a deep scratch on it that stretches from her eyebrow to right underneath her eye. it seems to be healing well, but it settles painfully in everyone's gut to see such a large scar on a pure face.

the rest of her face is filled with smaller scratches. thankfully ones that won't scar. no one's seen it yet - but if piper turned around there would be a missing pair of wings on her back.

no one comments. based on the way cassian and rhys look - they're ready to kill whoever did this to this girl, and they'd only known her for less than an hour. even nesta, normally cold-faced, looks full of anger.

piper pulls on your pant leg and points to the table. you hold her hand and her limping does not go unnoticed by your family. she's relearning to walk without the weight of her wings - and feyre's eyes widen once she realizes.

piper's movements are stiff and the table is silent. for the first time in years, the entire house is silent.

conversation starts up as you help pile food onto piper's plate. despite her condition, her eyes still sparkle with glee. as soon as she puts her first spoon in her mouth, the door to the dining room opens and piper turns quickly,.

"azzy!" everyone is blown back by how loud her shriek is. they're even more surprised at how fast she manages to sprint across the dining room and into azriel's arms, despite her condition. "you came back!"

he picks her up, balancing her on one hip with ease. "told ya i would, pip." his voice is soft as he pats the top of her head. their shadows intertwine and zip around the two of them, as if they were doing their own catching up. "did you do your training today?"

"i did!" her movements have caught up to her and she leans against his legs for support, her breathing becoming labored. he notices, and shadows come to swirl around her legs, ready to catch her if she falls. "i walked all the way down the stairs today! by myself!"

the inner circle watches in awe as the shy little girl they'd just seen exploded into personality at the sight of the quiet and stoic spymaster. rhys smiles to himself - he knew that bringing the girl here was a good idea.

"that's great progress, pip." azriel's voice is laced with exhaustion. his eyes finally catch yours - but only because he felt the pool of your emotions in his chest. he nods softly at you, once to tell you he's okay, and he watches your shoulders relax. "tomorrow we're going to go to the healer's again. she wants to -" azriel glances at the inner court, "she wants to check up on you."

"okay." she smiles, "maybe we can walk there! and i can do it by myself this time!"

"i think you can do it, pip." azriel hums, "how about we go eat? i'm starving." he looks up at you, and smiles again, "and then we can go back to your room and finish that puzzle." "yes!" piper nods quickly, "yes, please!" she holds onto azriel's hand for support, and doesn't flinch when her hands touch his marred ones.

azriel sits between you and piper, his eyes watching every single person at the table as they interact with the girl. they may be his family, but if one person - even his own brothers, made a wrong move, he'd flip the table over. his protection for the girl ran deep - so much so that it worries him.

his shadows whisper that it's alright - his protection is justified. they whisper he'll never have to act to protect her, they'll do it for him. and they whisper that if he does have to act, it'll be justified. they whisper to him that the carnage he'd bring for this girl is justified.

so azriel lets his worries go. they're right.

[bonefall]

Is there any one particular bit in Ivypool's heart that really stands out concerning wanting to tackle it in BB (be it lovingly or with violence)?

I'll do you two; a loving tackle and a violent tackle!

VIOLENT TACKLE:

Dovewing and Ivypool do NOT have a good relationship in BB, and furthermore, I absolutely refuse to let Ivypool be a healthy and well adjusted individual at this point in her life. ABSOLUTELY not. The Erins have dropped a raw steak at my feet and given me an opportunity to display BB!Ivypool's Dovewing Derangement Syndrome on full blast and I am shaking it like Whistlepaw shakes a newborn baby.

I was really craving someone on this journey not being patient with Ivypool, and seeing her act unreasonably on her pain and loss.

I wanted to see her get nasty with someone, and have them fight back. I wanted to see someone get angry that she was insensitive towards them when they've ALL gone through similar things. It kinda felt like everyone on this journey was there to give Ivypool therapy, not work out their issues as a group.

For BB, I also want to give Dovewing and Ivypool some soft moments of mutual understanding, but... in the end, they do not reconcile because Dovewing does not want to.

And that's okay.

Ivypool will think she NEEDS her sister and her acknowledgement to move on, to have her accept an apology (which, truthfully, Ivypool doesn't entirely believe in) because it's SOME kind of closure when she won't get that with Bristlefrost... but she doesn't.

Moving on and healing is about the life you make in the wake of that loss. It's not Dovewing's responsibility to give her sister what she craves, it's up to Ivypool to make meaning in her own life. It's about the friends she will find, the wide world there is to discover, and the ways she can make things better for the Clans in Bristlefrost's name.

Even when the bridge is burned... the river still runs.

(As a side note, I've also TOTALLY gotta work in a moment where Ivy and Dove come across their mom, Cinderheart, while she's out traveling with their aunt/stepmom Fallenleaf. This is the perfect opportunity for Ivypool to let out a bunch of anger she has towards them, but also have them get a little involved in the new supernatural stuff!)

Special mention to the Sisters stuff; in BB they are not Evil Neglectful Bad Moms Who Hate Men. Beach and Slate will be tweaked. I am already imagining a scene where Rootspring gets to have a Cool Older Brother moment and show off some cool tricks he figured out with his talisman.

(in BB, the male sisters don't genetically inherit the ability to see ghosts, they have a special necklace crafted for them that lets them call spirits without the need of a large group.)

(Slate also will not be needing a rename, because Slate DOTC has a full name now-- Slate Keeper. I'm still working on her, but she's essentially The Wind Runner's secretary.)

POSITIVE TACKLE:

DEFINITELY the "River of Souls," along with StormClan and the Wildcats. I'm still wary of the Wildcats and the way the Erins could possibly dip into some weird "genetic superiority" stuff in the future, but they actually did a pretty good job introducing them!

I love the way that Wildcat religion is essentially that everything is connected by three elements, and that their unique belief system allows them to travel between afterlives. I adore this so much that I'm going to start thinking of the various "afterlives" in BB as having a primary element which influences how they behave.

Silverpelt and Skypelt are primarily Wind-Element systems. This makes them mobile and powerful, but highly subjected to the whims of the living.

The Tribe of Endless Hunting is primarily a Water-Element system. It's a very present element, flexible and easy for individuals to access while also allowing spirits to interact with the mortal plane.

The Guardian's Firmament is primarily an Earth-Element system. They require setup and investment on behalf of their followers, in return for giving worshippers a very powerful and intimate connection to the land.

All afterlives contain a mix of elements, but have "affinities." I also immediately saw a juicy opportunity to introduce the idea that Wildcats dance around addressing "fire" as an element, considering it forbidden, or at the very least, wild and unpredictable.

One Eye, who created the Dark Forest as a curse, is a God of Summer. So the Place of No Stars is absolutely a Fire-Element-- and I'm going to keep it loose until I understand what that looks like better. I want to save a little bit of wiggle room for future Wildcat appearances.

I'm also warming up to the idea that the Sisters have some Wildcat influence. I'm probably going to adjust their lore a bit to make them a mixture of Tribe culture and Wildcat culture. I've got a budding idea that, because Wildcats are rare and their population is scattered, they have a sort of concept of like... "Making A Home Where You Are," no matter where that is, or what culture they become part of.

So I like the idea a lot that this "river" is part of that. They maintain a connection to each other, across distances. The Guide of a Wildcat kitten is their mentor, both in terms of spiritual and physical training.

I'll also be needing a new name for this rework. Part of me really wants to call it "Ivypool's Loss," both for the angle of grief and also for the meme lmao. But, "Ivypool's Catharsis" also works very nicely... and if I go with "Ivypool's Awakening" the abbreviation is IPA and I can make beer jokes.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Negan perked up as he heard the door at the top of the steps open and hurried boots on the stairs. His book dropped down onto his chest. You came through the dim light and stepped into the pool of warm glow from his lanterns.

"Well, hell..." he said, planting his boots on the floor and sitting up on the edge of his cot. His book lay forgotten beside him. "Isn't it a little late to be paying little ol' me a visit, doll? Or, wait—is this a booty call?" he asked, a smirk growing in his face. But his smile quickly faded as he read your furrowed brow. "What is it?" he asked, his tone serious.

"It's the fucking Whisperers," sighed, your eyes closing and your fists gripping tightly around two of the cold, metal bars. "I don't know what to do... I don't—" You broke off and sighed heavily. "I can't sleep. I can't eat. Daryl and Carol are going to get themselves killed..."

Negan rose to his feet and crossed halfway across his cell toward you. Your eyes opened at the sound of his movement and you straightened up and withdrew your grip on the bars. "You want the benefit of my expertise?" He paused and you met his eyes. "Kill them. All of them."

Your eyes narrowed. "Is that what you've learned from all this?" you asked, gesturing to his surroundings. "Really?"

"If I had just put an end to Rick and the rest of you right away, I probably wouldn't be in this cell," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "My philosophy on people being resources really backfired in the end."

You scoffed and stiffened. "Jesus, Negan... You know, I'd be dead then."

He tipped his head to one side and you watched his tongue sweep out over his bottom lip. "An unfortunate side-effect, doll. I'm talking strictly strategy. You can't tell me I'm wrong."

"Well, some of us are trying to do better."

"You really think Alpha and her band of skin-freaks are worth saving?" he asked, incredulous. "After what they've already done?"

"Not Alpha! But some of them—some of them are probably there because they have nowhere else to go. Some of them are still people. I mean look at Gamma. She cares about that baby boy, Adam. We can't just keep fucking killing each other. There will be nothing left!" you said vehemently, pacing a tight circle. "There's already almost nothing left..."

Despite your frustrated and defeated tone, Negan was smiling at you.

"What?" you snapped. "You gonna tell me how naive and stupid I am now?"

Negan shook his head. "No. Actually, I was thinking that I admire you."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right..."

"No. Really, I do. Somehow, after all the horseshit you've gone through, you're still looking to heal this sick world we're living in."

You crossed your arms and surveyed him, but could feel yourself softening. "Someone has to. We both know you won't do it."

Negan laughed and smiled at you again. "I don't know. You might change my mind yet..."

Prompt: "You want the benefit of my expertise? Kill them."

[7waystreet]

dirty confessions | jung hoseok

This BTS 18+ explicit series will include 7 diary entries (one from each of the bangtan boys) confessing to the dirty thoughts they have about (y/n) and the sinful sexual acts they've part taken in during their lives.

I kindly ask the reader to start with pt.1 and end with pt.7 since it's a series and will contain overlapping scenarios and characters ♡

✬ foreword pt. 1 — seokjin pt. 2 — yoongi pt. 3 — namjoon pt. 4 — hoseok pt. 5 — jimin pt. 6 — taehyung pt. 7 — jungkook

pt. 4 — hoseok

Dear diary (^.^)

I have a confession to make. I fucked Yoongi hyung's new gf (y/n) so good, she squirted a fountain out her pussy while he was sleeping in a tent right next to us~~~ (˘◡˘)

I never thought it would all start out with (y/n) catching a glimpse of my dick when I struggled to take a piss in the dark during our hyung line camping trip. Well, I should say rap line camping trip bcuz Namjoonie kicked Jin hyung out last min for fucking his little sister.

Shit. I was already terrified of being in the woods all by myself, but I got totally scared out my wits when I heard (y/n) sniffling alone like a ghost next to the tree I peed under, my hands scrambling to zip up my pants after I saw her openly staring down at my tip with reddening cheeks. Little did she know the same massive cock would make a stream gush out her pussy later too.

The thought of raising her leg up and pounding her roughly against the tree in the late hours of the night did cross my mind as I approached her sobbing figure, but I had to force those sinful thoughts out of my head while I gently rubbed her shoulder and asked her if she was okay. The overwhelming desire to slip my fingers into her panties and slowly rub her clit to soothe her even more started to make my hands shiver... but what she said out her pretty lips next suddenly made an irrational anger flare up in my gut.

"I don't think Yoongi finds me attractive. He... he never seems to want to get intimate with me."

Shit, if (y/n) was my girlfriend, I would fuck her fine ass all day and all night long until she saw real stars herself... certainly more satisfying than seeing the ones shining in the night sky above us in that very moment. Shit, the amount of stamina I've developed from dancing for years even scares me sometimes... the way I could be thrusting into her for hours... but what the hell was I supposed to tell her? That Yoongi hyung probably doesn't have time for her bcuz he cheats and stays busy fucking the thirsty hoes that line up for him outside his studio everyday? I couldn't break her innocent little heart like that... but I could comfort her with a hug, right? ('･_･')

What started off with my arm tenderly curling around her shoulder led to her getting closer and nuzzling her head into my chest, the way her quiet sighs of breath warmed the skin on my neck making me want to tear her clothes off and enter all of her holes one by one. I eased my way in though, the head pats I was giving her slowly shifting to a relaxing head massage with my fingers running through her soft hair, and she didn't even flinch when I pressed a fluffy peck on her forehead to calm down her tears. If only she could do something in return to calm down my raging boner that was now shamelessly poking into her belly while she hugged me tighter than ever...

All I could think of when (y/n) looked up at me with glistening eyes was the night I'd caught my ex bitch and Yoongi hyung fucking like mad dogs in my own living room... my eyes had shimmered with tears the same exact way after witnessing hyung betraying me so badly (ㅠ﹏ㅠ). My heart had broken into a million tiny pieces and I'd then gone deep diving into any pussy I could find just to heal my hurt, but it quickly got boring and I was worried I might get an STD from the number of cunts I pounded through by the end of my hot streak.

(y/n) was a different case though, and maybe I'm no better than Yoongi hyung, but nothing else mattered when she pleadingly asked me if I thought she was attractive, the only way I could answer being with a kiss on her lips. She seemed a bit taken aback by my move, although she still remained comfortably snuggled in my embrace, her shiny lips slightly quivering when she mumbled those three beautiful words every guy wants to hear. "I'm a virgin."

What better high could even exist than avenging my mistreatment by claiming (y/n)'s tight virgin pussy all for myself before Yoongi hyung could even get there?

It was a piece of cake bringing her into my tent, the way I kept assuring her with my sweet words that I'd be gentle with her making her relax right into my sleeping bag and warm blankets. There's no denying I'm a master at this game of silent seduction, and watching her melt and unfold underneath my touch was the affirmation I needed to pleasure her further into a squirting orgasm, that too the very first time she was having sex.

Shit, I'm getting hard writing this down and remembering that wonderful night... how I'd started off by kissing her neck while we laid down together wrapped in the sheets, my palms simultaneously running along her sides to really get a feel of her perfect curves. She began to tremble the more my hands got lower, but I soothingly coaxed her by assuring her I'd stop if she ever felt uncomfortable, and I of course would've bcuz I'd never force myself onto anyone. She loosened up soon enough though, her cute hands naturally finding their way onto my body to touch my back, a sharp gasp parting her lips when she finally groped my rock solid boner through my pants.

It was adorable how she shyly admitted not knowing exactly what to do next, my hand then guiding hers to slide inside my boxers so she could feel the warmth of my throbbing length. She bit her lip when the tips of her fingers felt my foreskin, her palm slowly wrapping around my girth and moving up and down in a stroking motion to understand my proportions. "I'm scared" she whispered and I felt my ego swell up with pride, the want to experience her untouched walls swallowing me up driving me crazier by the second.

Taking all of our clothes off got us both in the mood even more, and I reminded her not to be loud before I began touching her myself, the soft whimpers leaving her mouth like a melody to my ears when I kept grazing my fingers on her folds. I rubbed and teased her clit so good that she got soaking in no time, her mental strength impressing me as she continued massaging my cock despite her legs flailing when I started fingering her hole to stretch her out. I had to keep kissing her to muffle out her intensifying moans, my tongue slipping into her mouth and tugging with hers as our breaths began to get cut off from the rising heat within our bodies.

The best part was hearing Yoongi hyung snoring from the tent right next to us while I got on top of (y/n), the look of anticipation mixed in with excitement on her gorgeous face still freshly engraved in my mind. She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes when I gradually pushed the tip of my pulsing cock against her folds, easily inching my way into her dripping pussy within a few seconds. Holy shit... I might've lost count of how many girls I've fucked over the years, but I can surely confirm nothing beats (y/n)'s cunt. The pleasure was immeasurable to say the least, the tense feel of her clenching around my length as I nestled deep inside her core something I want to experience more than once in this life. And I'm guaranteed going to get it again seeing just how good I made her feel just within a few short minutes... she'll come back for more.

(y/n) locked into my eyes while I fucked her hard in the g-spot, which was the hottest thing ever, her brows tensing up in a furrow and the veins on her neck popping out when she dug her head back into the sleeping bag from the devastating arousal. I could feel the pressure building up inside her since she constricted her muscles to prepare for the approaching orgasm, a scare flooding my system as my palm dashed to push against her mouth a few seconds after she had screamed out loud from her release.

My cock slithered out of her just in time to watch her squirt like a good little girl, the clear stream of liquid bursting out of her pussy like a fountain, which soaked into the blankets and created a big wet stain. She was so overwhelmed that she appeared as if she was going to pass out from the embarrassment of it all, but I kept kissing and coaxing her to let her know everything was okay and it was beyond sexy if anything. I had to distract her from frenzying on by sticking my dick into her once again, which hushed her up right away, the desperate need to cum myself while pushing (y/n) into a second orgasm now the focus of my very attention, which was both successfully achieved soon enough.

Let's just say the sleeping bag and sheets got so wet from our own cum that I could no longer sleep in them, both me and (y/n) entering Yoongi hyung's tent after doing the unholy deed and sleeping on either side of him to end the night was a bang.

Hyung, if you're reading this, the revenge of getting back at you was no doubt sweet... but pounding (y/n)'s virgin pussy was much sweeter (^_-).

a/n ♡

i imagined the exact opposite storyline for hoseok, where an innocent (y/n) is seduced by his warmth and sweetness vs. yoongi's experience in his confession. hoseok is absolutely aware of all of his strengths and perfectly uses them to fuck (y/n) and get his revenge

— him writing cutie emojis to mimic his own expressions

— him being a scaredy cat (afraid of the woods, thinking y/n is a ghost, his own stamina scaring him, y/n's screams inducing a scare)

— him writing "shit" often like he says out loud irl

— his irl ability to stay on task and have immense self control which the members often praise him for (eases y/n into things and is able to guide her forward slowly despite his deep desire to fuck her)

[sugoi-and-spice]

Y'all there's no freaking way the mystery character in 425 is Tenko. I don't think it's any character we've met before. (And it sure as hell isn't Deku's dad, god that theory is so dumb). The identity of this new character in fact is basically told to us in Todoroki's line earlier in the chapter.

This is most likely a new character entirely, a Tenko parallel who is on the cusp of becoming a villain and that needs someone to reach out to him the way nobody ever did for Tenko. Someone that's going to put Deku's new resolve and mission to the test. It's Horikoshi's way of saying that just because the heroes defeated Shigaraki and All for One, that doesn't mean that they're victorious - they've only gone back to square one.

But square one and the status quo is not a win for these heroes. They need to better their world and build towards a bright future that will prevent the creation of villains like the League. And I think the appearance of one last villain in this story is a great way to show that.

Deku and friends had to use the old hero ways to defeat the League, yes. But now they get to decide what the new image of a hero looks like. And maybe they can even get rid of the idea of villains altogether.

So, no. Even as a die-hard Shigaraki simp, I am not putting my bets on the "Tenko is revived" horse. And honestly? I don't even think I want this character to be Shigaraki or Tenko or whatever version of him people think it will be. I think that would actually invalidate his death earlier even more. Because if nothing else, Deku did save that crying child within him. He did heal Shigaraki's heart and get him to let go of his hatred. But look at this guy:

This man is in fucking DISTRESS. He has none of the acceptance or calm or even will to fight that Shigaraki had - during his death or otherwise. I think if this was the Tenko that was resurrected, someone so clearly disturbed and in pain, then it would make the one save Deku did make in that fight completely meaningless.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again - I don't technically hate the way Shigaraki went out. I'm glad that in the end, he died as himself rather than turncoating to join the heroes. I'm glad he's not going to be rotting in prison for the rest of his life. And I'm glad his legacy is clearly going to live on in this world through Deku, even if he doesn't personally.

This issue that I have with Shigaraki's death is the pacing of it. That's all.

I'm still not giving up hope that Shigaraki comes back as a vestige/force ghost though. That for me feels like the only way to bring him back that wouldn't totally undermine the climax of the story.

[isagrimorie]

I honestly love how angry Laudna was in the first half of the show, out the gate. The moment Orym called attention to FCG's new clothes, Laudna's face was this:

But even through that Laudna can't help but comment and compliment Imogen on her new look:

Imogen smiles at Laudna: "I love the new look."

She just lit up at Laudna's compliment.

And then Sam just goes straight into it, probably sensing the Drama potential and immediately Laudna's mood shifts from sad-soft to sharp.

Also, of course, Imogen's face when Ashton said: "You were the last person to have a complete breakdown."

Fearne also looked concerned.

And then Imogen's face when Laudna pointed to her and said: "You have a new best friend, apparently."

Completely bewildered by this classification of her friendship with FRIDA. I also love Travis's husband reaction of: 'Uh-oh.'

Imogen is completely startled because out of everyone on Team Wildemount she was the one who didn't want to rest and just want to be on task.

I live for Imogen's 'Excuse me?'

It's so funny because apparently, Laudna didn't get any of Imogen's messages that she WASN'T having any fun sexual or otherwise last episode. Like, Imogen really did need to spell it out for her, and another reason why Imogen decided to just make her feelings plain.

Imogen tries to explain and Fearne is also quick to buck up and defend Imogen. Meanwhile, Chetney offers his sexual healing services.

Laudna looked like whatever Chetney's saying isn't computing with her and later looks like she was half a second away from getting angry at him.

And then much later Ashton and Orym are gently trying to convince Laudna to try and unwind, feel what it's like to be Human again. Taking care of Laudna the way they failed to do, bringing her back from the brink of the abyss.

Imogen doesn't even know yet that Ashton and Orym just let her fall.

Orym and Ashton coaxing her back from the edge, directing her back to life, to Imogen.

And it starts to work especially when Imogen brings up visiting Zhuduanna and their old home in Jrsusar. Signs of the old Laudna seem to be softening her edges and her stare isn't as blank or blankly furious anymore.

But it's true they all need to unwind from the harrowing trip they've all been through.

Still, I feel there's hell to pay if or when Imogen ever found out that Orym and Ashton just let Laudna fall down the abyss and possibly let Delilah back into Laudna.

Fearne is just trying to navigate this seachange of emotions too, she was also deeply affected by the split of the team but she's just much better at hiding it.

(Also, Marisha Ray deserves all the accolades because she's so good!)

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlight!

"You came?" "You called."

Danny in trouble, Duke to the rescue! (Or it can be reversed!) Maybe they've been online friends or met in person once and bonded over both having all these unexpected powers. Slightly angst.

There was never a point when Danny thought he would need the panic button Duke gave him.

It was a sweet gesture, a way for Duke to show that he cared for Danny and wanted him to be safe. Never mind that Danny can take care of himself, heals quickly from most wounds, and has been the protector, not the protected, ever since the Accident. If it makes Duke feel better, than Danny was more than happy to keep it on him as a token of affection.

The cultists, however, caught him off guard. 

Danny would be embarrassed about being nabbed off the streets so easily if the people who took him weren’t cultists lead by the daughter of a GIW agent, one who disapproved of the scientific approach the GIW took towards ectoplasmic entities and had turned to mystic arts as a way to defy her father. Which, usually, Danny would be all for striking out against the strict expectations of parents and their unwillingness to listen to their kids in any serious manner, but not this time. Not when it ends with him slowly waking up after they chloroformed him, curled up in some magic circle, surrounded by black candles and blue flame, and something in the air that smells of blood blossoms.

There are voices speaking, but he can’t make out what they’re saying over the pounding in his head, his heartbeat stuttering in his chest with each gasping breath he takes. 

Whatever they’re doing, whatever’s got him bound in the circle, makes his blood feel like its been lit aflame, agony coursing through his veins. He tries to grit his teeth and bare it, but it doesn’t become any more manageable.

No, it gets worse the longer he’s awake.

Danny tries to move, tries to get to his feet, but all he can do is curl up tighter, a sob forcing its way out of his throat.

“I know you’ve got some connection to Phantom,” he hears someone say, both by his ear and so far away he can barely make out the words. Danny whines, trying to insist that they’re wrong, he’s got nothing to do with phantom, but the voice continues. “Come on, cooperate with us and this will end sooner for you. You can’t lie about this; you wouldn’t be feeling anything if there was no connection.” 

A hand brushes against his forehead, burning hot, and Danny turns his face towards the ground trying to move away from it. 

“I knew ghosts had to have some tie to the living world. And a living anchor would make the ghost stronger… If only dad would listen to me.” The voice sighs, and the words help him put the pieces together and realize this is the daughter of the GIW agent that came closest to finding him when he first ran to Gotham. 

It’s been close to a year since then. He thought they’d stopped looking. 

Really, he should have known better.

The hand leaves his forehead and he hears the leader bark out an order. Voices surround him, chanting, as they rise out of the dark. 

A red glow begins to fall on everything, enough that Danny can see it through his barely open eyes. A shudder runs through him, and he feels his transformation try to begin.

NO, he thinks desperately. He tries to force it down but it fights against him. It’s agony, pain on a molecular level, the feeling of dying over and over and over again.

NO, he thinks, STOP I DON’T WANT TO DIE SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME.

And then, unbidden, a single word rising in his mind. Duke.

Duke will help him if he knows Danny needs help. Duke has been kind and welcoming and helped Danny find his footing in Gotham, never judging and always quietly offering a hand in support. He’s the person Danny’s closest to in Gotham, someone dear to him, a light in the dark. 

He gave Danny a panic button.

Contrary to popular thought, Danny isn’t an idiot. He knows Duke is the Signal. A few too many incidents where Duke had disappeared and the Signal appeared to save him tipped him off. It didn’t help that Duke acted the same in and out of costume, and he always, always grabbed Danny first at the elbow, then slid his hand down to his wrist. 

Besides, who else gives panic buttons to their friends? Danny would have done the same to Sam and Tucker if they weren’t always attached at the hip. He’s a (former) teenage vigilante too, he knows how being involved in this kind of thing invites trouble into the rest of his life.

Duke can help him. He’s a hero. He’s saved Danny before.

He’s his friend. Danny trusts (wants to trust, so badly) that Duke will help him even when he’s not fully human, fully alive.

With trembling hands, he reaches into his jacket, to the panic button. It’s a simple necklace with an unassuming metal rectangle dangling off of it. It’s flat and thin, but the top gives way to a button that Danny clicks three times in quick succession. 

He waits a moment, trying to breathe through the pain, and clicks it three times again.

Please hurry, Duke, he thinks, hand falling limply to the ground. 

“Let’s try this, instead,” the leader says, and the chanting falls to a quiet murmur to give way to her voice as she begins reciting something.

It starts at his feet. They cramp up suddenly, then pain crackles up his bones like lightning, digging deep into him. It feels as if a thousand knives dig into his abdomen, cutting in deep and twisting.

Danny chokes on his breath, then screams, trying futilely to scramble away. All it does is make him writhe on the ground, back arching enough that he can feel the strain of it on his spine, but it doesn’t matter because he’s forcing down his transformation again, smothering Phantom as much as he can.

His breath mists out before him. His fingers go numb, frost spreading across the floor.

Tears slip down his face as Danny pants for breath.

It hurts. It hurts like nothing has ever hurt before, but he refuses to give in. If they find out he’s Phantom, they’ll only do worse. 

Please, he thinks again, deliriously.

As if hearing him, a window shatters above him and the cultists break off in screams. 

Forcing his eyes open, Danny squints through he tears and watches as the shadows around them rise up, roiling, and crash against the cultists. The force of it knocks them down, leaving them to claw desperately at their faces as the shadows cover their nose and mouths, cutting off their air. The leader is yelling, rage clear in her voice, shooting out magic spells at the Signal.

The Signal is usually a friendly figure. He’s safe, something whose meer presence makes people feel safe. His smile means everything’s alright and when it’s directed to Danny, he feels like nothing bad can ever happen to him again.

The Signal isn’t smiling now. 

He’s furious, expressionless and stone cold, bashing away the spells with shadows or light, advancing on the leader like an avenging angel come to deliver justice. 

He takes her out with hard hits, striking methodically. It’s not quick. She doesn’t get the kindness of being knocked out; no, he snaps a wrist, breaks her nose, slams her down on the ground and cuts off her air with a knee until her struggles die off and she’s left limp on the floor. 

When he rises, surrounded by shadows still moving restlessly, illuminated only by the flicker blue flames of the candles, he should look terrifying. 

All Danny feels is relief so sharp it worries him that his chest was cleaved in half without him noticing until now. He shivers against the floor, too weak to reach out to the Signal.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to. 

The Signal picks him up with careful hands, checking him over for injuries.

“Duke,” Danny murmurs, slurring a bit. The torture is definitely at fault for it, but the sudden absence of all that pain doesn’t help him sound any more coherent. “You came.”

“You called,” Duke says, “Of course I came. I’ve been looking for you for hours. You never showed up for our study date and I know you always try to reach out if you can’t make it. I’m just sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

“S’okay, ‘m not mad. Was scared, but you made it better. The panic button…”

“It’s how I found you. I’m so glad you were wearing it today.”

Danny tries to smile, but the most he can manage is a twitch of his lips before his head tips forward to rest against Duke’s armored shoulder. “I always wear it.”

Duke’s grip on him tightens for a moment, then he begins walking, taking Danny away from the magic circles and the prone bodies of the cultists who had watched him be tortured and decided to keep going. Danny shudders again, his entire body aching. His transformation is still fighting to come out, but it’s not as strong anymore. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Duke says into his ear. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“No! No hospitals, please. I can’t let them know… they’ll find me…”

Duke shushes him soothingly, tucking him more securely against his chest. “Alright, Danny. No hospitals. But I am going to call Batman for a pick up to get you to one of the people we trust for medical care.”

“But Batman doesn’t work in the day.” Danny’s too exhausted to sound confused, but it must go through anyways. Duke laughs lowly, and the sound helps unwind the last of his nerves coiled up tight in fear. 

“Danny, it’s well into the night. You were gone for hours. Longest hours of my life.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, 

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. Hang on, Batman’s nearly here.”

In any other circumstance, Danny would be excited to meet another hero. Especially Batman, one of the original heroes of the modern age. But all he wants is to go somewhere safe so he can curl up and cry, then sleep for three days before he pretends to be a normal human again. Ideally, he’d stay with Duke until he felt safe again, but he doesn’t want to take Duke away from the city that needs him.

His ears perk up a bit when he hears the smooth rumble of an engine stop in front of them. A door opens with a click without Duke needing to grab the handle, and then Danny is carefully being deposited in the back seat.

“Wait,” he says, trying to grab for Duke’s arm only to have his fingers fumble and grab nothing. Duke doesn’t move away, though, and instead grabs Danny’s seeking hand. “Stay? Please? I just—” his voice shudders, cracks, fractures apart. “I just want to feel safe.”

There’s a pause, a stillness in the air, before Duke says, “Okay. I’ll stay.” And then he’s sliding into the backseat, pulling Danny in to lean against him, curl into his embrace.

“Signal,” Batman’s low, gravelly voice says. There’s something in his tone that makes Danny tense up, prepared to take off, and his transformation pushes at his skin, ready to come out.

“He knows who I am, B,” Duke replies. “He’s trustworthy. Besides, just because he knows me doesn’t mean he knows you.”

“We will be discussing this later,” Batman says, dark promise in his voice. It’s just how he talks, Danny’s sure, too used to years of making himself the scariest thing in the dark. That doesn’t change the fact that Batman can be terrifying, and Danny can’t imagine he’ll take kindly to the fact that Danny knows Duke’s identity.

Fear slithers up his spine, and he can’t stop the transformation this time. The rings of white light flash over his body in a second, leaving Phantom in his place. 

Danny lets go of his legs first, glad to be free from their aching weight, and without a body made of flesh and bone, the hurt begins to fade away until it’s just an unpleasant memory. 

“What—” Duke starts to say just as Batman says, “Signal—”

They must have some sort of silent exchange. There’s only a heavy tension in the car and the barely audible rumble of the engine as they drive towards their destination, whatever it may be. Danny sinks into Duke some more, sighing in relief as a hand comes up to card through his wispy white hair. 

“Danny,” Duke says, “What’s this?”

“It’s why they hurt me,” he mumbles against Duke’s chest. “It’s why they keep hunting me down. I want them to leave me alone. I’m tired.”

Embarrassingly, his voice cracks on the last word and more tears fall down his cheeks. He hears Duke move, and then hands, bare and gloveless, wipe his tears away with a gentleness that makes his heart ache.

“They won’t be able to hurt you again. You’ll be safe from now on, Danny, I swear it.”

“S’okay if I get hurt,” he says, “It always happens. Promise to save me if this happens again?”

“I’ll do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again. But if it does, then I promise to always save you. I gave you that panic button, didn’t I? As long as you keep it, I’ll always find you.”

“You’re a good person, Duke,” Danny says, voice falling quieter as his exhaustion catches up to him. “I’m glad I met you.”

He thinks he feels a soft touch to the top of his head. A kiss, maybe, though it’s not likely. But he wants comfort, and he’s endured a lot a pain so he allows himself to hope and be delusional. With the warm that spreads through him from Duke’s soft kiss to his head, Danny gives in to the siren call of slumber.

“Get some sleep, Danny,” Duke says, voice hushed. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need.”

I know, he doesn’t say, too tired to open his mouth again, You’re always here. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

He falls asleep easily after that. There’s nothing in the world that can hurt him while he’s in Duke’s arms. He’s never been safer.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Holy crap! I can only imagine how the Stalwarts are dealing with all this.

You mentioned that they have been keeping an eye on Wukong all these years. Did they know about the mysterious Stone Egg their King took in before his disappearance, or did Wukong keep it secret?

Did they know about the fight that cost their King his memories, or did they find him after the fact once they were informed that he disappeared?

If so then why haven’t they come forward? Why haven’t they said anything? Why are they only here when Peaches already has a new life and family? Why are they only here when he’s having a full blown existential crisis? This is what’s going through Peaches’ head as he’s essentially being info dumped to by these strangers who claim to know him.

No doubt Peaches is feeling so overwhelmed by all of this. So, Dadsy puts his foot down and shoos everyone away because he can see that his eldest is seconds away from a breakdown.

I feel like, despite his grumpy exterior, Pigsy is the more emotionally sensitive parent. He’s not and did not start out perfect, but he has learned read his boys like the back of his hand. Peaches, particularly, he found quite easy to read and understand his quirks and habits. He doesn’t know how, or why they sometimes made his feel strangely nostalgic. Oh, well 🤷

+ bonus anon ask;

The Stalwarts were def panicking when they checked in on their King and found evidence of a scuffle. They knew he had been tending to an odd rock for a while, but they had assumed at first it was a case of him brooding like a hen over a regular stone.

An alarm is sounded off across the Realms when the King fails to return that morning.

Eventually it's Nezha who finds a patch of destroyed woodland just outside of Megapolis, along with scraps of the King's nightclothes and pieces of shell-like rock...

The Stalwarts had debated for a while over whether or not to walk in and claim "Peaches" as their missing brother, but after seeing him with a newborn Stone Monkey and a pair of his Pilgrim brothers reborn, they decided it was better for him to heal where he couldn't be harassed by Heaven or Diyu.

They also made sure to keep the *Amnesia-thing* to themselves. The Celestial Realm nor Wukong's enemies need to know about that. They had found the smell of a suspicious-smelling liquid on the King's clothing scraps.

The Stalwarts take care of the island with it's King away, driving out villains and humans alike to preserve the Monkey King's home.

The four also keep a close eye on their King and future Prince. A gym teacher here, a kind granny there, a grumpy regular here, a market stall owner etc... just to make sure they stay out of world-ending trouble.

Their little brother deserves a happy childhood after all he's been through.

They do reveal themselves however, after the chaos of New Years throws Peaches/Sun Wukong's condition into the limelight. He's not just some kid claiming to be Sun Wukong's successor - he IS Sun Wukong with his memories stolen!

They help his adoptive family with the cleanup around the city, and formally introduce themselves as Peaches' *first* found family. There's a minor panic that they've come to "take him away", but the older monkeys quickly calm that fear - they've been around for a while, and have no interest in ripping their brother from his present troop. They explain their side of the story, and how they felt it would be a kindness to let their little brother live happily and for his little miracle to have a normal childhood. Had they come forward, he would have been immediately recognised and targeted for his condition.

Peaches does get a little overwhelmed by all this lore though, and the Stalwarts take the cue to leave from a concerned Pigsy, promising to continue protecting him and his family from harm. Pigsy appreciates their ability to read the room (unlike Tang, who's been interviewing them for the past hour or so).

They do however joke that Pigsy is now their Dadsy too since he's adopted their baby brother! And MK is now the "baby-est" brother of their little family to spoil! Pigsy grumbles a little at that, but doesn't object. XD