#can’t remember if reading rainbow was corny too or not

[my-happy-little-bean]

The Rainbow Manor

pairing: platonic DLAMP  words: 5138 warnings: swearing, references to homophobia, toxic/homophobic parents, brief description of a small injury, blood, brief descriptions of panic/anxiety attacks, crying, angst

a/n - hello friends! hope everyone is doing well! i was lucky enough to be commissioned by the lovely @youronelesbianfriend to write this story (side note, their commissions are open too so...whatcha still doin here, go and do that!). i was overjoyed when i saw the prompt she gave me, and had such a good time writing it! (also inspired me to maybe formally advertise commissions? you can peek at my tumblr every now and then to see if i do, but if you also want one you can DM me!)

so without further ado, here is some content ✨

read on ao3!

—

The Rainbow Manor is a lot of things. 

It’s a home for the biggest family that could exist. It’s a safe haven from the cold, stormy outdoors. It’s the kind of blanket made of the same velvet the night sky is made of; it’s quiet, it’s warm, and it’s filled with stars. All it takes is one step inside and you would find yourself filled with a sense of belonging, of hope. 

You could run the furthest distance away from it all, and the Rainbow Manor would always open its doors to you. 

Patton would know. He was the first one to try. 

~*~ 

“Okay, so here’s what happened,” Roman Prince said, looking down at his clipboard as he weaved him and Patton through the halls. “I was going to show the new people around myself, but then I forgot the paperwork in your office — and then I realized, ‘hey, what better person to show them around than The Man himself!’; capital T, capital M!” 

Patton half-heartedly smiled as he snuck a peek at Roman’s papers. 

“How many are there?” 

“Three, so it won’t be too bad. One of them’s Virgil — you remember Virgil, right?” 

“Right.” Patton smiled fondly, remembering Roman’s birthday party last year. Him and Virgil had shown up covered in cake. He never really saw Virgil after that day, but clearly him and Roman stayed acquainted against all odds.

They turned a corner into the break room where three people sat around a table. Roman clapped his hands. 

“Alrighty! Sorry for the wait.” 

All three of them stood up. The one in the black and purple hoodie—the one Patton recognized as Virgil—rolled his eyes. 

“Waiting is part of the contract with you, Princey.” 

Roman faux-gasped. “Hey, that was one time! And if I didn’t take too long that day, we would have taken the wrong cake!” 

“We did take the wrong cake, Roman. That’s why it exploded.” 

“...Oh yeah.” Roman grinned. “Forgot about that.” 

Virgil shook his head, but showed a hint of a smile. Patton took a step forward to extend his hand out to him. 

“Nice to see you again, Virgil!” He then addressed the two behind him. “And if we’re talking cake, I guess you both can call me Patton-cake!” 

The one wearing a black, short-sleeve button up frowned, adjusting their thin blue tie. 

“I read on the website that your name is Patton Morgan.” 

“It’s like patty-cake, but Patton-cake!” 

“...Right.” 

“Ignore my friend’s simply lively commentary.” The last person stepped forward. They wore a pale-yellow button up under a grey vest. “That’s Logan. Do not be astounded by how that pencil is both sharp and dull — he’s always like that.” 

“And that’s Janus,” Logan seethed, crossing his arms. “They’re always like that.” 

Patton chuckled. “Well it’s nice to meet you both. I’ll show you guys around?” 

They all nodded, following Patton as he led them out the door. The icy awkwardness of first encounters fortunately thawed as conversation quickly blossomed. Patton learned that Logan was the new volunteer manager and was close friends with Janus, who was joining the growing team of counsellors. Virgil, on the other hand, was the newly-appointed social media and communications coordinator; a position Roman used to double as alongside being head of recreation and programming, until he overdid it with the website graphics and crashed the site for two days. Sometimes, change was necessary, Patton learned. 

“So that’s pretty much the whole place!” Patton said brightly at the end of the tour, stopping outside his office. He handed them their job description packages. “I hope you all get situated soon! And if you ever need anything, you now know where my office is!” He motioned to the door with jazz-hands. “Here!” 

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan hummed. He looked around idly. “I must say, I am rather impressed by how well-established and organized the facility is, especially for one that is fairly new.”

“Well call me corny, ‘cause all I can say is ‘aw shucks’!” Patton beamed. “You know, if you told me almost a year ago that I’d be standing here today, I think I’d be impressed too!” He nudged at Roman. “But I obviously didn’t do any of it alone. It’s the people that really make this place home — people like Roman, who’s been with me since the very beginning!”

“Oh, Patton! You make me sound like the hero of this place.” Roman pretended to flip his hair. “So thank you!” 

“A humble hero,” Virgil retorted. Roman just stuck out his tongue at him.

“But in all seriousness, Patton’s downplaying his efforts to the floor!” Roman wrapped an arm around Patton’s waist and pulled him in close. He waved out in front of him. “He’s a true phoenix who rose from the ashes and built this place with his own two hands!” Roman then spun Patton away from him, a trail of giggles following suit. “Plus he does a bunch of other stuff too! He has, like, a gazillion side-gigs, he sometimes volunteers at an animal shelter…” 

“It sounds like you may also be interested in a day off,” Janus piped up.

“It’s really not that much!” Patton awkwardly shuffled where he stood. “I...I like staying busy.” 

Janus tilted their head at him. “Right.” 

Patton shot them a quick smile before diving back into the end of their paperwork. Then the three of them, along with Roman, said their goodbyes and scattered to their respective offices. 

Patton leaned against his office door with a wry smile. They all seemed like nice people, he thought. He was lucky to have them. 

(Roman’s words from weeks ago echoed in his head; the same words that were said to him the night of his first breakdown, when they first called.

“You need all the help you can get, Pat.”) 

And he needed all the help he could get.

~*~ 

A few days later, Patton found himself leaning against the front of his desk, outstretching his hand towards the teen in front of him. 

“Jonah, your feelings are valid, no matter what they are.”

The words slid off Patton’s tongue almost effortlessly. Jonah sniffled. 

“I know, Pat. And– and I’ve already made a lot of friends here that have told me that. It’s been so good for me here, but…” Jonah buried their face in their hands. “Every night before I go to sleep, I can’t stop thinking about what they told me before they kicked me out. It’s like I get tunnel vision. I can see the person I have grown to be on the other side, but all I’m doing is going backwards.” 

Jonah looked up at Patton with teary eyes. “And I don’t wanna go back, Patton. I...I don’t want to go back.”

Patton felt a chill run through his spine. Quiet echoes buried themselves in the back of his mind. 

“I understand that it’s difficult to feel like you’re moving forward when it feels like the most important people in your life are pushing you back. And it...it sucks. I’m so sorry.” Patton swallowed down the temptation to cave as he continued. “I...I think all we can do is remember that those important forces in your life aren’t what’s given to you, but are what’s found. And I feel like you’ve done a lot of searching — for now, try and let yourself be found.”

Jonah broke into a small smile. Before Patton knew it, the teen stumbled forward into an embrace, holding Patton tight and crying. Patton’s hands hovered in the air behind their back, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Patton came to his senses and hugged them back. 

“I’m thankful I found this place,” Jonah mumbled into Patton’s chest. “It’s– it’s built on a lot of hope. I don’t think I could have found it anywhere else.” 

Patton’s heart shattered.

‘I wish I could give you more.’ He squeezed Jonah tighter. ‘I’d give you all I had, and you’d never know.’ 

Jonah left a few minutes later, thanking Patton for giving them a space to be honest. All Patton could do was nod numbly. He knew Jonah was new and it was hard to be new here, but Patton was certain that they’d find their place. The kids who came here always did. 

Patton walked around his desk to sit down. He took one look at his phone, frowned, then set it aside with a sigh. For a brief moment, Patton relished sitting in the precious silence that finally found his office. 

Then, a knock on his door. 

“Come in!” Patton said, straightening up and folding his hands neatly on his desk. The door cracked open and Logan’s head peeked in. 

“Is this a good time, Patton?” 

“Yeah, of course!” 

Logan stepped inside and handed some papers to Patton. 

“I filed through the volunteer applications and started arranging interviews in the coming weeks. I just wanted to run the dates by you before I start contacting people. Hopefully they suffice.” 

“Wow! Thank you, Lo.” Patton took the papers, slowly sifting through them. “These look really good! I’ll have a look at them tonight.” 

“Tonight?” Logan echoed. “Are you staying late again?” 

“Oh! Yeah, I am.” Patton shrugged. “Just a bit of extra paperwork.”

“Well if you require any assistance tonight, I can stay around–”

“No, no! That won’t be necessary.” Patton waved his hand dismissively. “Go and enjoy your night, Lo.”

Logan’s stare seemed to bury itself through Patton, enough for Patton to look away. 

“...Well, please do not hesitate to let me know if you need anything else.”

As Logan was leaving, Patton felt his phone buzz. He snuck a peek and paled.

‘Missed call(s): Mother (2) - 5:34 PM’

“Um, leave the door open, Lo!” Patton suddenly blurted out. Logan turned around and tilted his head. Patton flimsily added, “I– I think I’m going to try and get some air.” 

Logan nodded, lifting his hand off the door handle before walking out. Patton took a deep breath and then stuffed his phone in his pocket before leaving as well. 

—

Later that evening, Patton wandered into his office in a daze. He turned the lights on and inwardly groaned at the stacks of paper awaiting him. 

He dragged his feet to his desk, only stopping to check his phone. The ‘missed call’ notification lingered, except now the number was ‘3’. 

Patton felt his jaw tighten. He couldn’t run forever. 

As he sat down, he noticed a small cup behind one stack of paper. He grabbed it. The smell of coffee swarmed his head. He smiled, noticing a small sticky note on its side. 

“Keep up the great work. Your friend, Logan.”

 ~*~

“Okay everyone! Grab your brushes!” 

Patton blinked. Somehow, his memory of the manor floors failed him, and he ended up in the recreation room. He felt eyes stare up at him, Roman’s included.

“Ah, Patton! Man of the hour! What brings you here?” 

Patton sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um, got lost! If you could believe it, heh.” 

“ ‘Lost’ is just a way of saying ‘found, but with a few extra steps’!” Roman motioned to an empty seat. “How about you join us for a bit?” 

Patton opened his mouth to protest, though felt cornered by all the expectant stares. He even spotted Jonah, who smiled and waved at him. Patton sighed. He had been wound up for days now; perhaps Roman’s theatrics was all he needed.

He finally nodded, going over to sit in front of the vacant canvas. Roman grinned at him with a warmth Patton let himself melt into. 

“Alright! Let’s begin.” Roman cleared his throat. “I want you to pull on the colours of your heartstrings. Forget form, structure– even an outline. Your emotions know no bounds, after all! Just remember, your hand is not controlling the brush — it’s your heart.”

Patton felt the words wash over him. Roman, of course, was right; he didn’t even notice his hand moving as he painted. Though somehow, it didn’t feel as peaceful as Roman described it to be. Instead, it felt like something was being pulled out of Patton, as though a claw was scooping something out of his chest and spilling it onto the canvas. 

Suddenly, his ringtone cut through Roman’s monologue. Patton jumped, dropping his brush. A line of paint dragged across the canvas as it fell. All eyes were on him again. 

“Um, excuse me! I– I’m just going to take this.” Patton pressed answer without looking at who called as he stumbled out of the room. 

“Hello?” 

“I see you’ve finally answered.” 

Patton’s heart dropped.

—

Roman was halfway through the end of his monologue when, in the corner of his eye, he spotted Patton re-enter the room, head ducked.

“Ah! I’m glad you’re back!” 

Patton nodded, but in the stilted way Roman quickly recognized. His eyes looked Patton up and down, barely listening to Patton’s stammering apology for interrupting. His hair was disheveled, which meant he ran his hand through it far too many times. His eyes were red, his jaw was tight– 

He was crying. 

“Anyway, I’m sorry again for leaving so soon!” Patton’s voice brought Roman back to reality. “Keep painting you guys! I gotta Van-Gogh!” 

A shaky laugh followed Patton out. Roman frowned, but he nodded for everyone to continue. He passed by Patton’s canvas and snuck a peek. 

It was rather abstract, with overlapping strokes forming a gradient. Roman’s gaze followed the gradient downwards. The canvas was filled with dull blues that turned into darkening greys. Towards the bottom was a thin line of black trailed all the way to Patton’s paintbrush, abandoned on the floor.

 ~*~

The sun sets on a long railroad, it goes past the horizon, it outstretches a hand like it’s beckoning, it’s begging you to run, run faster, everything is going faster and they just told you to go so you have to– 

“Pat?” 

Patton shot up in his seat with a yelp. He blinked quickly, vision focusing on the silhouette of–

“Virgil!” A strangled laugh escaped his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in!” 

Virgil replied simultaneously, “No, I’m sorry, you just weren’t answering and I got worried, but I didn’t realize you were sleeping–” 

“Sleeping?” Patton looked down at the time. 5 PM. 

“Oh sh– shoot, I’m gonna be late.” 

“Late for?” 

“Animal shelter,” Patton mumbled, stumbling out of his chair and grabbing his bag. “I forgot that I said I’d come in today– gosh how could I forget–” 

“Hey.” Virgil rested a hand on Patton’s shoulder before Patton could go spiralling out the door. “Deep breath. I’ll drive you, it’ll be okay.” 

Patton opened his mouth to protest, but remembered the time. He sighed and motioned wordlessly at the door. Virgil nodded, leading the two of them out towards the parking lot.

“Anyway, I’m sorry if it’s a bad time, I was just hoping to run some website revisions by you,” Virgil said as he started the car and backed out of the lot. Patton shakily smiled. 

“No! It’s not a bad time at all, you can tell me about your ideas as you drive!” 

“There’s not much. I was just thinking of ways to maybe make it more approachable. There’s not even really an ‘about us’ page or anything about you–” 

“Why would there need to be anything about me?” 

Virgil looked at him, almost confused. “It’s an amazing organization, Pat. Your name should be up there, especially as the founder…?” 

“Oh! R-Right.” Patton let out a sharp laugh. “I guess I never thought about it before.” 

“I could put something together tonight, I was just thinking it'd be cool to hear you talk about it.” Virgil turned at an intersection. The sign of the animal shelter soon came into view. 

“I guess that’d be a good idea!” Patton shrugged. “But there’s, um, not really anything interesting to know.” 

Virgil frowned, falling quiet as he parked the car. When they stopped moving, Virgil turned to face him. 

“Say, would it be okay if I joined you?” Virgil shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “I, um, have a bit of a free night, and I was thinking that maybe I could just ask you stuff for the website now so I don’t have to bother you later…?” 

Patton’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds perfect! Liz will probably be okay with it. I think it’s bath night for the dogs, and we can always use an extra hand with that!” 

Virgil chuckled, following Patton out the car and into the animal shelter. 

Patton gathered the energy he had left to greet Liz and everyone else, already cooing over the various animals he and Virgil passed by. They reached the back and, with only a bit of struggle (Patton would never admit to these cute dogs being a struggle), took each dog a bath. All the while, Virgil asked Patton questions about the Rainbow Manor and his life in general, which Patton did his best to answer.

“I ended up founding the Rainbow Manor a year after I graduated.” Patton wiped his brow as they finished drying the last dog. “I had been living on Roman’s couch for so long after being kicked out and I just wanted to turn it around; not only for myself, but for other people.”

Virgil’s stare softened. “I– I’m sorry. N-Not about how you founded the place but, like...why you felt like you needed to. That must’ve been hard.” 

“Yeah.” Patton forced a shrug. “It is what it is. Sometimes, you have to get lost to be found, right?” 

“Right.” Virgil looked up at Patton. “Do...do you still keep in touch with them? Your parents, I mean.” 

Patton felt his heart squeeze. 

“It’s been so long,” he finally said. “I doubt they’d want to talk to me.” 

—

Virgil offered to drive Patton back, but Patton insisted on taking a cab home. Virgil reluctantly conceded, but promised to email Patton when he drafted the additions to the website. Patton just nodded and watched Virgil drive off. 

When he was sure that Virgil was completely gone, he shakily pulled out his phone and called a cab. 

“Hi! I– I just need to go to The Rainbow Manor,” he said to the driver as he climbed into the car. He found himself laughing. “Long work day. It is what it is.” 

~*~

Days passed, and Patton’s workload somehow doubled: new admissions, new initiatives, new everything. 

(And his mother kept calling. And calling. And calling.) 

To say it was a lot was an understatement. 

Patton found himself going back and forth along the manor halls, forcing a smile at those he passed. He closed his eyes, turning a corner before he knocked into someone. 

“Crap! I– I’m so sorry.” Patton quickly scrambled to gather the papers that had fallen onto the floor. 

“Oh, don’t apologize, I always thought that important documentation would make for good confetti– ah, hello, Patton.”

Patton looked up. Janus appeared above him, outstretching their hand to help Patton up. Patton took it, scooping the papers up as he went. 

“Janus! Hi! Well, if you’re looking for me...here I am!” He laughed, though it sounded scratchier than expected. “Everything okay?” 

“More than, thank you. I just wanted to follow up about my schedule for the new admissions? You mentioned yesterday that I should come to you but I couldn’t find you…” 

Patton winced. His chest tightened.

“F– I forgot, goodness how am I always–”

“It’s quite alright, Patton, I can always–” 

“I–It’s not okay!” 

In the corner of his eye, Jonah passed by. He felt their wide eyes on him. The air grew thinner.

“It’s– gah, it’s never fucking–”

“Oookay. We’re not okay and that’s...okay.” 

Janus suddenly took Patton’s arm and led him to their office. They swiftly kicked the door shut with their foot as they let Patton settle on the couch. 

“Breathe for me,” Janus said slowly, pulling up a chair and sitting across from Patton. They took Patton’s hand and motioned for him to follow their lead. “In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8…” 

They repeated this a few more times until Patton let go of his head and his breathing evened out. 

“I– I’m so sorry, Janus. I don’t know what–”

“It’s fine, Patton. I’m glad I could help.” A pause. Janus leaned back in their chair. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

“No, everything’s fine.” 

Janus raised a brow. 

“Okay, everything’s not fine. But...but it will be fine. I have to be fine.” His mind drifted to Jonah. Patton buried his face in his hands. 

“I can’t be like this,” he said, tears threatening to fall. “I...I just can’t. Not now, this– this can’t be happening now.”

“Unfortunately, these things tend to find us — not the other way around.” Janus squeezed Patton’s hand in a sudden moment of softness. “I...I know what this is, Patton. And I don’t have to tell you what to do because I know you know. You help so many people like you, but remember: when the plane is falling, you have to put on your oxygen mask before you help someone else.” 

Patton locked eyes with Janus for a split second, opening his mouth to respond when he felt his phone ringing. Reflexively, he pulled it out in front of his lap. The air disappeared once more. 

‘Incoming call: Mother’ 

Patton quickly pressed ‘decline’. He then looked up at Janus, whose eyes darted upwards as well. 

Shit. 

“I– I have to go.” 

“Wait, Patton–” 

“Thank you for everything, Janus,” Patton mumbled, and before Janus could reply, Patton sped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

 ~*~

“I just don’t get it,” Roman muttered, leg bouncing under the table in the break room. “I’ve never seen him like this before.” 

“You haven’t?” Janus circled the table like a hawk. 

“What makes you think I have?” 

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that he has about a thousand jobs! Or perhaps it’s that he’s been staying overnight every night to work as if he owns the place — oh wait! He does! But I have no idea why that might be stressful at all!” 

Roman glowered at them, but said nothing. 

“I can imagine that his workload presumably doubled this past month,” Logan, sitting across from Roman beside Virgil, adjusted his glasses. “Between the new admissions, growth in our volunteer admissions…” 

“Okay, so he has a lot on his plate!” Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I’ve seen him stressed out about these sorts of things. This is different.” 

“So what else could be on his mind?” Virgil piped up. 

Janus suddenly stopped in their tracks. 

“His mother.” 

Roman’s heart dropped. “His– his what?” 

“She called him while Patton was in my office,” Janus murmured. “He left straight after.” 

Virgil frowned. “Why would he...” 

Roman felt as if he had burst into flames. The pieces clicked together in his head.

“The– the fucking nerve of that woman, I can’t believe she’s still–”

“Roman, what are you talking about?” Logan cut in.

Before Roman could respond, he felt a buzz in his pocket. He immediately pulled out his phone. His breathing hitched. 

‘Help.’

“It’s Patton,” he blurted out, stumbling out his chair and making his way out of the room. Everyone exchanged looks, but quickly followed suit. 

Roman weaved his ways through the halls until he neared Patton’s office. Loud sobs were muffled behind the door. Roman felt his heart breaking already as he opened it. 

And there was Patton, on the floor, crying, and surrounded by shards of broken porcelain. Roman recognized it as a vase he had painted for him years ago. He winced seeing small drops of blood surrounding the pieces. His eyes quickly scanned the room as Logan immediately tended to Patton. 

“What happened, Patton?” Logan murmured as Patton curled up closer to him, sobs still wracking his body.

“I– I’m so sorry.” Each word sounded like it was forced out of his lungs and into the air. “I– I tried to clean up, I’m sorry–” 

“Shh, Patton. It’s okay.” Janus knelt down beside him, carefully lifting Patton’s wrist to examine his hand. A long cut ran across his palm. Janus looked up at Roman and Virgil.

“There’s a first-aid kit in my office, as well as a broom and dustpan. Can one of you grab it?” 

Virgil nodded wordlessly, exiting the room. Roman noticed Patton’s phone beside Patton on the ground, and reached over to pick it up. 

“What did she say, Pat,” Roman asked, fear edging the quiet of his voice. The words seemed to stab at Patton and let out more sobs. 

“She– she found out about everything,” Patton wheezed through tears. “The– the Rainbow Manor, where I am– she wants to take it all– she can’t take it all–” 

“Patton, I need you to follow my breathing, okay?” Janus interrupted, motioning at their chest with their hand as they inhaled and exhaled. “Can you see my hand? I want you to try and follow along, okay? 

Patton numbly nodded, trying to breathe through hiccups and sobs. Janus repeated the exercise with Patton for at least fifteen minutes, with Virgil returning halfway and Logan moving to sit in front of Patton to start tending to the cut. Virgil carefully swept around Roman, Janus, Logan, and Patton on the floor. 

“Whatever she told you, it isn’t true,” Roman said after Patton’s breath had evened out. “She can’t touch you here, not with us around.” 

“I– I know,” Patton sniffled. Logan finished bandaging Patton’s hand and offered him a tissue from the box on his desk. “She said so many awful things, but– but the scariest part is that she didn’t stop at just saying things.” 

“What do you mean?” Logan murmured. 

“She...she threatened to shut the Rainbow Manor down.” 

“What?!” Roman shot up from the floor. “But– but she can’t–” 

“You know my mom, Roman,” Patton whimpered. “She has connections all over the city. If she wanted to, she would find a way.” 

“So why hasn’t she?” Janus asked quietly. A beat of silence. Patton brought his knees closer to his chest and buried his face between them. 

“She– she wants a percentage of the donations,” Patton finally admitted. 

“What the fuck,” Virgil growled, stopping in his tracks. 

“I know! It’s– it’s impossible, I–” Another sob. Logan and Janus moved closer to him, with Janus putting their arm around his shoulder. 

“What did you tell her?” Janus pressed on. 

“I– I told her no! Even if I wanted to, I can’t, but– but what else can I do?” Patton looked at his bandaged hand and grimaced. “And of course she got mad, and I freaked out, and I knocked over the vase– god, Roman, I’m sorry about the vase–” 

“The vase is replaceable,” is all Roman said. “You aren’t.” 

Patton just nodded, looking up at the four of them in his office with teary eyes. 

“What am I going to do?” 

Everyone exchanged looks. Roman lowered himself back to the floor beside Patton and wrapped him in a warm hug.

“You’re not going to do anything,” Roman said firmly. 

“Roman…”

“All your life, you’ve taken care of people like they were your family, Patton. Please, let your family take care of you.” 

Patton sniffled, looking around him. Virgil, Logan, and Janus nodded with small smiles, moving closer to him and joining the embrace. 

And Patton just nodded, dissolving into tears; except this time, Roman could feel the relief from them. He felt Patton melt in his touch and smiled to himself, a similar relief washing over him as well. 

(And for a moment, just a brief moment, Patton was home.)

~*~ 

One week later…

“Keep your eyes closed…” 

“Roman, I don’t know how many more walls I can keep bumping into!” 

“Just a little longer, I promise!”

Patton giggled, letting himself be led by Roman through more halls. Then, Roman stopped him. 

“Okay, you can open your eyes in 3...2–” 

“I’m opening them now, I’m too excited!” Patton squealed, and then opened his eyes. Suddenly, a burst of colour flooded his vision. 

“Surprise!” a chorus of voices exclaimed. 

Patton broke into a wide smile, blinking to focus on the sight in front of him. He was standing in the recreation room, with a big banner hanging from the back wall reading, “Happy Birthday, Rainbow Manor!”. Beneath it was a table with a cake, which was surrounded by Janus, Virgil, and Logan, alongside a bunch of other teens Patton recognized. Even Jonah was there, wearing a small party hat with a confetti popper in his hands. 

Patton felt tears well up in his eyes. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you remembered!” 

“Of course, padré!” Roman grabbed Patton’s arm and led him around the table to stand in front of the cake. “Always normal for a family to celebrate the man who built their home!” 

“Oh, Roman!” Patton leaned against his shoulder, sniffling. “It’s perfect.” 

He then looked at Virgil, Logan, and Janus. “I can’t believe you guys set this all up, it must’ve taken forever!” 

“Actually, it just took a day,” Logan hummed. 

“And the cake doesn’t explode,” Virgil said with a small finger salute. “I checked.” 

“Additionally, we understand that presents are customary at a party,” Logan continued. “So while our present is not materialistic, we do hope it suffices.” 

“Oh?” 

“Sir Nerds-A-Lot is trying to say that we’re pitching in to give you a few days off!” Roman declared. “We handled a few responsibilities over the weekend while you were home, and split your workload for the week ahead! Consider this the fabulous gift of time!” 

“Oh you guys! You didn’t have to!” 

“But we did, and we did so gladly,” Logan said with a nod. 

“Also–” Janus leaned over to quietly whisper in Patton’s ear– “I took care of your mother.” 

Patton frowned. “You...what? Is– is she…” 

“She’s fine, but she won’t be bothering you for a long time.” Janus winked. “Let’s just say I know people too.”

Patton exhaled a breath he felt he was holding onto forever. He nodded graciously at Janus as Roman handed him a cake-cutter. 

“Alright! Before you take the first slice, you gotta make a wish!” Roman motioned at the lit candles on the cake. Patton stepped forward, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then blew them out. 

Everyone cheered as Patton was surrounded by hugs and laughter. He felt Janus, Logan, Roman, and Virgil crowd around him as they started to help hand out cake to all the teens. 

And in the back of his mind, his wish echoed in his head. 

‘I hope to always be able to share this home with my family.’

[fruitcoops]

Could you maybe write a “73 questions with Sirius Black” Vogue one? Or something like that.

Yes! I had never seen these videos before and it was a fun challenge to write. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

The house is large, two stories tall and painted a soft gray with white trim around the windows. Holiday lights have yet to be taken down and shine in all colors of the rainbow from the eaves as the camera crew walks up the front steps. The curtains in the window tremble for a moment, then a dog pokes her head through—she is all-black and curious, and looks quite large.

Dorcas Meadowes knocks on the front door; a moment later, it swings open and reveals Sirius Black. “Hey, guys, come on in! You can leave your shoes by the door inside.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Dorcas kicks off her flats and follows him inside as he sets a dish towel on the end table and leans against it. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Morning practice was productive and I’m feeling good about our upcoming game.”

“We’re here today to ask you 73 rapid-fire questions while you lead us around. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. You can all come inside instead of freezing on the porch,” he laughs, waving them closer. The door shuts with a gentle click.

“First question: on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“Hmmm. A solid seven.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“I do!” Sirius leads them into the other room, where the dog is curled up on the couch below the window; he picks her up and gives her a kiss on the head. “This is Hattie and I love her very much.”

“Cute! If you could do a dramatic love scene in a movie with anyone, who would it be?”

Sirius sets the dog down and thinks for a second. “Aside from my fiancé, I’m going to say James Potter. We would kill it and I don’t think it would be that awkward.”

“What’s the origin of your name?”

“Pretty much my whole family has star-themed names. Sirius is the dog star from Canis Major.”

“Brightest star in the sky, too. What’s one thing people don’t know about you?”

“I’m an introvert. Lots of people assume that I’m super social because of my job, but I’m very quiet in real life.” He walks back out to the entrance and takes the towel off the table, then moves into the kitchen. It’s well-lit and painted a deep, warm red. The countertop is scattered with knickknacks and picture frames—clearly, this is a place people spend a lot of time. Hattie, who followed them in, lays down by the oven with a heavy sigh.

“What’s your wakeup ritual?”

Sirius reaches up and pulls two mugs out of the cupboard. “I wake up around seven am and make coffee while Re is in the shower, then rinse off and get dressed while he makes breakfast. It’s a good system. Want some tea?”

“Sure. What’s your bedtime ritual?”

“I don’t think I have one,” he says as he puts the kettle on and ignites a burner on the stove. “Usually we read or watch a movie, then go up to bed and talk for a while. There’s not a big routine or anything.”

“Sounds nice. What’s your favorite time of day?” Dorcas sits on the other side of the kitchen island while he takes a box of peppermint tea down.

“That’s a tough one. I like the in-between spots, like just after sunrise or dusk. Three in the afternoon is usually pretty chill as well. Does anyone else want a cup?”

There are a few murmurs behind the camera and he takes two more down. “What is one thing no one knows about you?” Dorcas asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “If I told you, everyone would know, and it wouldn’t count.”

“Fair enough. Dream country to visit?”

“Anywhere. I think I want to go to Ireland first, though.” Small wisps of steam begin curling out of the kettle, but it doesn’t whistle.

“Do you ever feel pressure to post things on social media?”

Sirius makes a face. “I used to. Eventually I just got tired of it, you know? The whole point of social media is sharing bits of your life with people and it makes me happy to show off my dog, or Re, or my friends. I post things just for fun now.”

The kettle begins to hiss and he reaches back to turn it off. “Sneakers or skates?”

“Skates.”

“Vintage or new?

“Vintage, especially for t-shirts and sweaters.”

“Who is your biggest role model?”

“Pascal Dumais.” Sirius stops pouring for a moment to look up at the camera. “If you ever get a chance to meet him, listen to what he has to say. You’ll be better for it.”

“Wise words. How do you deal with negativity? Oh, thank you.” Dorcas wraps her hands around the mug and takes a small sip while Sirius passes the other ones to the crew.

“Honestly? I don’t give a shit. It used to really bother me, but I’m happy, I have a job I love, and my family cares about me. Why should I care what people I’ve never met think of me?” He sits on the counter and rests his elbows on his knees, blowing on the hot water.

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“My dog, Remus, and my family.” There is no hesitation in his voice.

“Not hockey?”

“I’d be devastated if I couldn’t play, sure, but it’s not the central focus of my life anymore.”

“What’s one ingredient you put in everything?”

“Does salt count?” He winces as he takes a drink. “Ugh, burned my tongue. I put salt on a lot of things because I drink so much water that it throws my balance off.”

“What is something you’re completely bored of right now?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Gossip columns and tabloids in general.”

Dorcas hums in agreement. “What’s your biggest fear in life?”

“Losing my loved ones.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Window. Anyone walking by always steps on my foot or hits my elbow if I’m in the aisle. Plus, I get a good view and an easy nap spot.”

“What’s your current TV obsession?”

“Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I’m watching for the third time already.” He shakes his head. “It’s just so good.”

“Favorite app?”

He takes a second to think. “Spotify.”

“Secret talent?”

Sirius looks at her over the rim over his cup. “This is going to shock you. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Hockey.”

“You’re the worst.” Despite her words, Dorcas smiles. “What the most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?”

“Uh, probably going to Europe with some of the guys last year. We had a lot of fun, but it was crazy.”

“I can imagine it was. How would you define yourself in three words?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome.”

“And apparently not humble,” Dorcas teases. “Favorite piece of clothing?”

“Hoodies.”

“Clothing item everyone should have?”

“Hoodies.”

A door opens behind them and the camera turns; Remus walks out of the basement, covered in sweat as he wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt and holds his skates in his other hand. “Baby, have you seen…” he trails off when he sees the group of people in the kitchen. Hattie’s tail thumps on the floor. “Um. Hello.”

“Hey, Remus, how are you doing?” Dorcas asks mildly.

The camera pans out to catch both Sirius, who is laughing quietly, and Remus, who flushes pink. “I’m good. I thought you were coming at ten?”

“It’s ten-thirty, sweetheart,” Sirius says, hiding his smile in his tea.

Remus glances at the clock before giving an awkward nod and walking toward the stairs. “I guess I’ll take a shower, then. Sorry about that. Uh, carry on.”

“What’s a superpower you would want?” Dorcas asks as soon as he disappears.

Sirius shakes his head with a grin. “Uh, teleportation. That would be really cool.”

“What’s inspiring you in life right now?”

“Ah, une grande question.” He thinks, then tilts his head toward the staircase. “Moments like that. And the Stanley Cup, of course.” He reaches back and knocks on the wooden cupboard.

“What cause is closest to your heart?”

“LGBT+ rights, especially trans rights. I’m privileged enough to have a platform and I intend to be loud as hell about that.”

“Good.” Dorcas sets her almost-empty mug on the table. “What’s one thing you’d say to your teenage self?”

Sirius lets out a long breath and drums his hands on the light blue ceramic of his cup. “I would say…it gets better. It really, really does. You’re going to feel super shitty for just a little bit longer, but then I promise you will be so incredibly happy that you wake up every morning and it hits you all over again.”

Dorcas nods, and the kitchen is quiet for a moment. “What’s a book that everyone should read?”

“The Hobbit, by J.R.R Tolkien.”

“What would you like to be remembered for?”

“This is going to sound so corny, but I want to be remembered for just being a good person.”

“That’s not corny. How do you define beauty?”

“Remus Lupin.”

“That’s corny,” she laughs, making him smile. “What do you love most about your body?”

“I’m a big guy, which can be a little bit intimidating, but it means I give really great hugs. I’m sure everyone saw the video that went around a while ago.”

“Cap Cuddles?”

He snorts. “Right. You’ve got Finn O’Hara to thank for that.”

“In your opinion, what’s the best way to take a rest or decompress?”

“Being alone,” Sirius says. “There is literally nothing better than getting home and sitting down with a book or something while I can hear Re doing his own thing and Hattie’s napping. It’s one of my favorite parts of the afternoon.”

“That’s the most introverted thing you’ve ever said.” Dorcas grins and finishes her tea just as a faint beeping noise begins in another room. “What’s your favorite way to experience art?”

“Through music, for sure.” He slides off the counter and walks down the hall, leading them toward the laundry room. He gives the camera crew a look as he pulls dry clothes out of the machine and heads back to the living room. “What? Did you think I didn’t do my own laundry?”

“You lost a sock,” Dorcas informs him, picking it off the ground and laying it on top of his head.

“Thanks, D.”

“What question do people ask that you wish they wouldn’t?”

“Lots of people have asked me when I decided to be gay, which is wrong on so many levels.”

“If you could master one instrument, what would it be?”

“Guitar or piano.” He dumps the load of laundry on the couch and opens the back door, holding it for the crew as they walk out into the sunshine. Hattie weaves through their legs and disappears into the bushes along the back.

“I might have to take your dog home with me. If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Sirius mock-glares at her. “Let me have my girl! Um, I would love to have a tattoo somewhere on my arm.”

“This might be a hard one. Dolphins or koalas?”

“Oh, that is hard. Probably dolphins. The ocean is terrifying but those little guys are just having a blast.”

“What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?” Dorcas asks as he picks up a tennis ball and throws it across the yard. Hattie emerges from the bushes and races after it in a blur of black fur.

“An engagement ring.”

“Yeah, it was.” Remus walks into the backyard and kisses Sirius’ cheek before bending down to catch Hattie in his arms. His hair is still damp from the shower. “Hello, sweet girl!”

“Who’s your favorite musician?”

“Queen.” Sirius laughs at her surprised look. “I’m gay, what did you expect?”

“True. What’s your favorite board game?”

“Monopoly.” Remus and Hattie disappear from the frame, but the bouncing sound of the tennis ball creates some background noise and Sirius watches them for a moment with pure affection.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Least favorite color?”

“Orange.”

“Bowties or knot ties?”

He frowns. “Don’t they all have knots?”

“Smartass.”

“Yep! Uh, regular ties.”

“Bowties are superior!” Remus calls.

“Get your own questions!” Sirius laughs.

“Going off your music answers: records or CDs?”

“I don’t own a lot of records, so I’m going to have to go with CDs. I love the way vinyl sounds, though.” His eyes widen as he looks to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Remus wheezes. “I didn’t need those ribs anyway.”

“For the viewers, the dog just football-tackled him into the grass,” Sirius says, and Dorcas snorts.

“Your hair is famously luscious. Blow-dry or air-dry?”

“Air dry.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, but tea is nice in the evenings.”

“What’s the weirdest word in the English language?”

Sirius laughs. “There are so many. Uh, ‘jeez’ is the one that comes to mind first.”

“What about the French language?”

“Oiseaux,” he says in a crisp accent. “It means ‘birds’, and you pronounce about three of the actual letters.”

“Good to know. Do you prefer dark chocolate or milk chocolate?”

“Dark chocolate.”

“Stairs or elevators?”

“Elevators. I don’t want to walk up three floors after playing hockey for two and a half hours.”

“Summer or winter?”

Sirius bites his lip in thought as they walk around the yard, where small flowers line the fence in beds and colorful pots. “I love summer because I have actual free time to be with my friends, but winter is hockey season. I don’t know, next question.”

“What’s a dessert you don’t like?”

“I’m not a huge fan of caramel. It’s too sticky.”

“A skill you’re working on mastering?”

“Will you ban me from more interviews if I say hockey?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, I’m working on keeping plants alive, as you can probably see.” He taps the nearest flowerpot gently with his foot; it has ‘Harry’ painted across it in sloppy blue letters. “My godson made that for my birthday.”

“What’s the best thing to happen to you today?”

“This, for sure,” he says with a smile. “I haven’t seen you and Marley in ages.”

“We missed you, too. What’s the worst thing that happened to you today?”

He pouts slightly. “Burning my tongue on tea.”

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Hugs! Though I’ll accept kisses from a few very specific people.”

“Do you have a favorite smell?”

He pauses and cranes his neck to look behind the cameras. “Re?”

“Yeah?”

“What shampoo do you use?”

“Uhhh…” There’s a moment of quiet. “It’s something with lavender, I think.”

Sirius turns back to Dorcas. “Something with lavender.”

“How specific,” she laughs. “What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

He smiles to himself. “There was a young woman, maybe sixteen or seventeen, that came to one of the games earlier this season. I saw her standing with a puck and went over, and while I was signing it she looks at me and says, ‘you are exactly what I wish my older brother was like’. Turns out, she was bisexual and her brother wasn’t super accepting of her. That was…” He shakes his head. “That meant the world to me. I’ll never forget it.”

“You’ve definitely made a big impact on the community,” Dorcas agrees. “What’s the last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?”

“I watched ‘Soul’ the other night and almost had to pause it at one point to pull myself together.”

“Do you prefer animated movies or live-action?”

“Animated, mostly because I wasn’t allowed to watch Disney movies as a kid, so I’ve been catching up as an adult and they rock.”

“What’s your nerdiest quality?

“I love watching documentaries.”

“Sweet or savory?” The back door creaks a bit as they walk back inside and the camera catches a few frames of Hattie and Remus running around the yard together.

“Sweet.”

“In ten years, you have a daughter. What age do you let her date?”

Sirius gives Dorcas a look. “Whenever she wants to. I’m going to impose curfews and stuff, but I’m the last person on the planet to police her love life.”

“Good answer. What’s a song you can listen to on repeat?”

“Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. Absolute banger.”

“If you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be?”

“Arthur Weasley,” he says after a moment. “I would love to know what it feels like to get up in the morning and know you’re about to spend another day wrangling our team. It’s a miracle he hasn’t killed us all with his clipboard.”

“How do you know you’re in love?”

“Oh.” Sirius blinks at her in surprise at the sudden topic change. “Well, for me, I think it’s just…being comfortable around someone. Being able to spend time with them without saying anything and knowing you’re safe, no matter what. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“What are you most excited about at this time in your life?”

A slight smile crinkles his eyes. “Getting married. That’s going to be awesome.”

“Who is your go-to for having a good laugh?”

“James Potter. He’s the best, and I love him.”

“Last question,” Dorcas says, sliding her list into her pocket. “Many LGBT+ people, especially teenagers, have spoken about how you’re an inspiration. Any words for them?”

Sirius hums in thought. “First of all, thank you for being so open and welcoming. I would never have expected the sheer force of people’s love to come through like that when so many people were saying horrible things. Second, to any kids out there who need to hear it: I’m proud of you. It takes a lot to be true to yourself and even if you’re still in the closet, you’re just as valid as the rest of us. Stay proud.”

“That’s a wrap.” Dorcas gives him a quick hug that he happily returns. “Thanks for letting us crash your morning, Cap.”

“Any time. Thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride, everyone!”

[prince-toffee]

Five Minutes

A sacrifice fic just to prepare for the inevitable.

(Sorry if there’s any grammar errors, I don’t care, I’m tired, ok I do care, consider this a first draft, I’ll fix it if something’s up.)

The doors locked. They did it. They won. The door‘s access panel changed it’s green light to a red. The display on the panel read ‘Warning, temperature rising to dangerous levels. Clone presence in WatchPoint Bay Q6 detected.’ “Yeah, no shit.” Modulok grumbled to himself, and partially to the panel, as he sat down on the walkway next to his brothers.

“Sooooo, what- what’s happenin’? Is it working?” Vultak asked swallowing fear down his throat as he stuttered on the ‘what’. It did work, the Princesses managed to destabilise the core of the capital warship, The Velvet Glove. The She-Ra, Princess of Power, ploughed her mystical sword into the power core, which resulted in the station’s propulsion systems going offline and set the warship on a collision course with Etheria’s most populated centre, BrightMoon.

“Yeah, it worked alright.” Modulok scratched his two heads with his two left hands, “I just... I calculate that we’ve got about five minutes before either the ship burns up ooooor the all-mighty, all-powerful relic sword explodes and tears our atoms apart and flings them across the ten dimensions... maybe both, probably both.” Modulok shrugged his shoulders with a hopeless chuckle, which didn’t really comfort the perched Vultak on the walkway railing. Then again, what would possibly lighten the mood in that moment.

Hordak and Princess Entrapta managed to angle the station in a manner that would just nearly miss the planet, burn up in the atmosphere and use the momentum of the gravity to sling shot it into a surrounding moon. The space station was mentally linked to Horde Prime, everything was operated and controlled with his consciousness. With Prime dead, it put them into a difficult circumstance. Someone had to stay behind to make sure the ship stayed on course, someone mentally compatible with the Horde systems. Hordak was the logical choice, actually he was the only choice. He was the only High General present, meaning only he comprehended and was familiar with the warship systems. Hordak thought it was funny, She-Ra did finally kill him. A destiny fulfilled.

“Five minutes to live. That’s not a lot...” Mosquitor spoke up, giving off a an exhausted sigh. All six clones present in the room fell into tense and anxious silence. Fear and sadness blocked their throats, they weren’t used to talking with their vocal cords, it was forbidden. Clones were only allowed to communicate telepathically and only communicate about their duties and objectives. ‘Small talk’ wasn’t in the Horde dictionary. Ironically the only places where clones were able to talk and showcase their individualism was on the frontlines.

“Okay, so five minutes of life left... any last words?” Modulok asked shimmying on his rear to find a comfortable position to sit on the hard, cold walkway. A grated panelled pathway suspended at the centre of a deep chamber, below a transparent force shield at the bottom. Which framed a view of heat and fire outside, melting and charring the outer metal casings of the ship.

“What’s there to talk about?” Despara quirked her brow at her brother’s question.

“Well, we’re clones, we don’t get this lucky. We’ve got five minutes to make up for all the decades of silence.” Modulok articulated.

To guide the warship most effectively Hordak had to observe the trajectory from a vantage point, that was where their paths diverged. Princess Entrapta protested, she held his hands in her own, massaged his knuckles with her thumbs. She raised herself up on her hair to face him eye to eye. She even gave him her signature smile, the one that melted his heart in a second. She had that look of possibility in her glistening crimson eyes, a spark of wonder and wanting that looked into multiple futures, hundreds of possibilities, a look that showed Hordak what he had to fight for, a world where that smile, those eyes and that laugh and that brilliant mind exist. A perfect world. He chose to save that world, even if it was without him in it. A final gift to Entrapta, for all the trouble and confusion he caused her.

He gave her a kiss on her gloved hand, befitting for royalty, he gave her the best smile he could, and for the last time, he left her. Princess Entrapta would go on to cry for many days to come, but it was for the best. The greater good.

“Alright. I’m just gonna say it, food, not a fan. Too mushy. Has to go through your entire digestive system, which I didn’t even know existed until a few cycles back, and it has to come out th-” Modulok was cut off by Hordak, who previously was completely silent.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” He didn’t even look at them as he spoke, face down, staring at a small purple crystal in his hand, which he used to fidget with to ease his nerves.

“What are you talking about? We stay together. We’re defects.” Despara states to Hordak almost offended, all of them were through a lot, she felt offended that Hordak thought they’d abandon him now.

“We fought through countless wars. We hauled-ass across the universe. And we killed our god! Together!... Well, technically the blonde Valkyrie lady killed Prime, but still it’s the thought that counts.” Vultak shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. Hordak rubbed circles on the purple crystal, looking down on it, his face reflected in it’s cracked surface. L-U-V-D. That’s what was etched on it. A fact. A reminder of her compassion. A wake up call. And he did wake up, from a dream world he believed all his life. A life of lies. From a hazy of toxic green to a reality of flaming red.

“I am your general. I stood at our Brother’s side, you were mere soldiers, pawns. I deserve this pain, not you. You could’ve- you should have had normal lives.”

Mosquitor chuckled to himself, “Normal isn’t exactly in our dictionary.” The towering brute countered as he cradled the young hybrid in his arms, keeping Zed near his chest. As if it would make any difference when the fire broke through. “Also we’re not the kind of people the Etherians seem to want to deal with.” That was true, after the Horde Hordak knew no clone would have an easy time on that planet. Those people hated him, his face. He chose to believe that the common people of the world were as good as the Princesses that protected them. That all his fellow clone brethren could find a safe and fruitful life among the native Etherians.

“Then what do you think happens to our brothers? You think the Princesses kept their side of the bargain? You think they’re all off the ship, that they evacuated them?” Despara asked most likely imagining the worst, a possibility that there were some other poor clones still on board. That they were sacrificing lives that weren’t theirs to sacrifice.

To quiet their minds, Hordak tiredly claimed, “No. They kept the promise. They’re honest people.” Hordak added that they had to, they were just like that, it was in their nature. Hordak knew their brothers were fine. BrightMoon had no court to try them, no holding cells to hold all of them for decades to come. And hopefully if Entrapta didn’t decide to hate him, she’d help them all and embrace them in her warmth. Dryl hadn’t had citizens for a decade or two, he was sure the clones wouldn’t be much of a downgrade. They would add some life to the ghost town, so that she wouldn’t feel alone anymore.

“Yeah well, whatever they’re up to, it can’t be as bad as the predicament we’re in, heh.” Vultak flapped his winged arm around, a sharp gasp of pain escaped him as he moved his right arm around. No wonder either, it was bent backward, from the fight with Prime, literal minutes ago. It felt so victorious for just a moment, but life has a funny way of turning tables around.

“Plus, the Princesses? Totally lame, right?” Modulok rolled his eyes as he attempted to stand up to get over to V and help his brother’s arm. But Vultak raised his left hand in protest, there was no need. It was going to be over soon. Modulok sat back down in defeat, amusement draining from his two faces. What good was a medic that couldn’t fix his fellow soldiers.

It was Mosquitor’s turn to brighten the situation, “Hah, yeah I bet our brothers are all clawing their ears out by now. Hehe, remember what those colour coded pastel losers yapped about all the time? Friendship? And rainbows? What a mucha losers, eh? Hehe... heh.”

“I remember.” Hordak stated. Never again.

“Yea, losers.” Despara nodded.

“Losers.” Modulok and Vultak said at the same time.

“...Hmmmhehehahah- HA!” Modulok covered his face to hide his ugly laughter, forgetting about the other one expressing the same emotion.

“Mode, what the hell now?” Vultak asked, a smirk creeping up on him.

“Hehehehahahahhhh, ahhhhh man, w-heh-which one was the one that tried to hug Zed, heheheh and- and got burned. Oh lord. Oh Great Darkness. That face was priceless. HhhhhhhhHAHAHA!” The infectious mirth managed to wriggle out a small spasm out of Zed. His shoulders moving up and down, his nasal cavity wrinkling up in that cute way. Of course the young Zed contributed no sound of amusement as he was mute.

Despara shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. They all look the same to me.” The room shook violently, the pipes above rattled and metal panels fell off the walls and fell down through the force field below. Hordak’s realisation dawned on him, that he would be departing the mortal realm very soon. Even though there was an inferno forming beneath him, just outside that thin force field, even though he was surrounded by his clone brethren, his mind couldn’t help but wonder off to the thought of a certain Scientist Princess. His mind run wild with quite corny and laughable poetry, everything he wished he had said to Entrapta. But didn’t.

He didn’t need her to devote her entire life to him. No. That’d be caging her. She deserved to be free, free to bend the universe to her will and bring the universe to bow before her beautiful intellect. He didn’t need her to lay her lips on him, she didn’t need to touch him. All he needed was just to see her smile, at him. Just for her to be with him, because that smile just for a moment saves him, just for a moment she makes him forget the endless pain he endured every day of his life. And every smile felt like an eternity of bliss. And so with just a look that woman could transport him into a perfect world, where he could live an eternity-long life.

But he didn’t say any of that to her. Hordak knew Entrapta wasn’t interested in long speeches, she had a short attention span, she was a woman of actions not words. That’s why before all this all Hordak gave Catra was a short note to give to Entrapta. He had her promise that she’d apologise to Entrapta, for all that she had done. Unfortunately, he made her apologise for the two of them. The note read ‘I’m sorry, and thank you. - Your ever loyal knight, Hordikins. Farewell My Queen.’ He could have gone on how there were no words in any dialect across the known universe that could express how she made him feel, or that if she only asked he would have gifted her the universe without a second thought. The note said everything it had to.

“Kinda sucks, all this. I only came on sentient a few hours ago.” Despara stated playing with her hair. The statement of dry humour pulled Hordak back from his day dream. “But I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet all of you. And... and be myself, even if it was short lived.” Despara finished. The words brought smiles to her fellow brothers, the past few Horde cycles were the craziest experiences of their lives, because they were experiencing life itself for the first time. They decided where their paths led. Especially Despara. She wasn’t always... herself. What was going to become Despara was clone DSP-772,411, whom was the detention guard overseeing Catra’s cell. ‘411 had never met an other lifeform other than clones. Des was a servant clone. Never stepped outside the perimeter of The Velvet Glove. Her insight on the lay out of the ship came in useful to the defects in their infiltration to kill Prime. ‘411 always felt like they weren’t serving their cause properly, along side their dying brothers on the frontlines. Though not on the battlefield she risked her life every day. Prime had a tendency for violent mood swings. A dinner party for Prime’s guests could be more traumatising and devastative to a clones health than the war trenches. Many clone have begged to be sent to the frontlines to escape the unspeakable horrors which occurred within the walls of the warship.

‘411 was immediately drawn to the captive Magicat. Catra spilled her heart, cried and whimpered, talked about an old flame of hers, about how she hurt people close to her. About how she was sorry. And ‘411 listened to all of it. And at the end, when Catra’s tears dried up and she quieted down, all ‘411 could ask was, what a ‘she’ was. It must’ve shocked Catra, eyes wide in confusion and mouth drooping low in surprise. Hordak wasn’t there when she did, but he could’ve imagined the cat’s reaction, mostly because his first Force-Captains had the same reaction when he first asked that same question in his first years on Etheria. Captain Octavia had quite an interesting evening that day. He made her swear an oath of silence, to never speak of that embarrassing encounter.

Clones had no concept of sex or gender, things just were the way they were. As Prime intended them to be. Perfect. The bodies and missions given to them by Prime were unquestionable. And it never was questioned, because none knew what other possibilities were out there. The alien armies of the Horde encountered were all different and unique, but there was no time or reason to study them. It wasn’t an objective. Prime did not care. Her brothers may have not fully understood, what Despara meant when she said she was always ‘she’ deep down, but none argued, none protested against their new sister. She was a clone, a defect, one of them. She was a new experience. One of a kind. And as Vultak put it ever so elegantly, “Cool. I never had a sister before.”

It was ultimately her who let Catra out and helped her escape back to the Alliance. Hopefully she got that kiss she so desperately needed. Hordak met ‘411 only once before being sent off back to the frontlines, his return and the assault on the Velvet Glove, and briefly at that, on his way with a breakfast tray to Queen Glimmer’s guest room.

“Hey, hey, stop with that sappy stuff.” Mosquitor waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. Moe, as his brothers called him, much like most clones including Hordak, wished to at all times seem tough. Poor MSQ-999,332 had it worse than most. He hide his defection for much longer than Hordak. The illness became so bad that eventually he could no longer use his own legs, his waist and legs lost near all muscle mass. And so ‘332 became paralysed. He was just slowing down his platoon down, so his lower body was amputated. Of course the brother that rescued and brought Moe on board was executed for the crime of ‘Conferring with Inappropriate Machinery’. And Prime personally threw Moe out the airlock back down to the battlefield. ‘332 spent most of his days afterwards, crawling across mudded trenches. Luckily, Moe met on that some battlefield, MUD-111,117, or Modulok.

Nothing, but hatred and vengeance flew through his veins, it did for all of them. Mode managed to construct a life support system, for Moe, a walking hospital bed. Many parallels could’ve been made between it and Hordak’s own First Ones suit, created by Entrapta. Moe’s unit was twice the size of Hordak, it made him tower over even Prime, but the biggest difference was, Hordak’s suit was near indestructible, Moe on the other hand even if he had intimidation on his side, the armour was more for life support than anything. Mosquitor faired better from a distance, ‘332 was an amazing snipper. The room shook more, sparks fling from wiring in the wall, the walkway holding them vibrated and shuttered. Moe took hold of Zed in his large arms, readying for the end.

The sight made Hordak thankful that Entrapta took Imp and got him to safety. The Lord of the Horde didn’t think he could’ve handled having to be forced to watch he’s own creation die... his little spy. He was safe, back on Etheria, in a loving home with a loving overseer. He only hoped that she’d teach Imp her ways, and hoped that one day Imp would grow into an intelligent man worthy enough to continue her legacy of brilliance.

Zed was the youngest of all the clones, although technically the creature wasn’t even a clone, but rather a hybrid. A prototype of the ‘splicing initiative’. A combination of Prime’s DNA and an unknown gene pool. The kid was an attempt at a creation of super soldiers, but failed. Poor kid always wanted to meet that other half of him. That other person that aided in bringing him into the world. This awful, awful world. Sadly, he never will, but he was the first to follow Hordak into the chamber. The boy did say back on the frontlines, that he’d jump into fire after him. And it was true. And to be more accurate, he didn’t say, he signed. All the defects learned the universal galactic sign language. Zed might’ve been silent, but his voice wasn’t unheard.

He’s fate should have been a better one. He didn’t deserve this, he had a full life in front of him. Hordak never knew what drew Zed to him, why he asked so many questions, why he snuck out at night to see him in the trenches. When Prime sent Hordak back to the frontlines, after his torturous reconditioning, he lost hope, but when he stepped out, or rather more accurately, when he was thrown out the troop dropship. Face first in a muddy trench dozens of defects thrown down with him. When he looked up from the dirt and filth, a slither of hope ignited in his belly, as a hand extended to him. Wonder in the boy’s eyes. He overheard Hordak’s mention of being trapped on other worlds.

”Hey, V you’re staring into the ceiling buddy. Talk to us.” Modulok snapped his fingers at his winged brother. Vultak didn’t turn to face him, mesmerised by the ceiling falling apart. V’s facial expression showcased a hypnotised look. As a combat aerial unit he always did look into the skies. But it probably had to do something with the impending doom below. ‘Don’t look down.’ Hordak remembered was the advise Vultak gave him when they leaped out onto the Velvet Glove from the stolen dropship, which exploded seconds later in the void of space as it was cut up with laser fire. VLT-441,441 was a paratrooper in the Horde military, until of course his defect began to show. He was always used to jumping into certain death, fearless in any mission. Vultak didn’t fear anything physical, nothing in the universe made him back down. But now, at the end he looked frightened, he couldn’t look down, do no more leaps of faith, for faith, he lost.

It’s true V feared nothing physical, because he had faith. He was a man of god. A believer. But what happens to a man when your god turns his back on you? Horde Prime knew defection was inevitable for many clones. No machine was perfect, especially no war machine. So Horde Prime infused prophecies and implanted messages into all clone subconscious, so that when defection occurs, all clones are compelled to return to him. Easier than hunting them down, easier to cover up the disgrace of his failures. Easier to hide his mistakes, he couldn’t afford to let those space fairing races above him mapping his progress to know about things like that. Couldn’t afford to let those higher than him know he was capable of mistakes. Perfection was expected of him. Those others above him, he tried to impress them, to have them take him in, show him enlightenment. He, all he wanted to do, was show he was worth their celestial time, he was worth something.

And now he was nothing. He is now dead. Hordak found that he began to enjoy poetry and it’s irony more and more, in a twisted sort of way. They were truly clones.

“Do you... Do you think there’s something out there for us? Up there, where ever?” The questions were deafening, everyone hoped Vultak wouldn’t have gone existential on them. But Vultak was the biggest patriot of them all, even surpassing Hordak’s obsession with their brother. And in turn he was the one most hurt by Prime’s betrayal. He was no god, no grand being, just a liar. Hundreds of thousands murdered... for him, because they believed their big brother. Hundreds of thousands, they murdered, for a lie.

“Do you think any of it was true? Do you think he believed any of it? Or was it ALL a lie?” Hordak answered V’s question in his mind, since never before was it a private place: Yes. All a lie. “The Perfect World. The Grey Mound? The Holy Peak? The Great Darkness?” V grit his teeth, another wave of pain from his broken arm.

“Worried about being sent to the bad place, V?” Modulok asked, weak smile wearing.

“I’m just wondering. What’s waiting in the beyond for a guy like me. It can’t be anything good... if there even is anything up there... or down there.” Modulok decided to stand up and close the distance between him and his distraught brother. He leaned against the railing on which Vultak perched himself.

Mode gently touched V’s shoulder, it made sure V looked at him when he spoke. “I promise you, where ever you wake up on the other side, I’ll be there with you. And I’ll always fix you up after you jump into certain doom. Brother, you have my word.” It was true, the two were inseparable. Through pure chance the two met on the frontlines. While V had his head in the clouds, Mode grounded him, pulled him down to his level. Mode was a realist. He was bad at his bed side manner, he never lied to himself or his patients. He was a field medic, he saw things no one should, endured horrors unimaginable to the innocent. Modulok was the oldest to them, he was through a lot, fighting from world to world longer than any of them in Prime’s name. Over the many decades the spark of pride dulled, Mode found himself lost, fighting across the stars for a cause he no longer believed in.

Mode’s defection was haunting, even to other defects, whom experienced hardships and injustice. Modulok’s defection was the most dire Hordak ever seen, MUD-111,117 developed a second head, and two left arms. His genome could have been compared to a computer glitch, untreated it just got worse. It was a miracle that Mode managed to make it to such an old age. Many species across the universe considered age to be a weakness, a disadvantage, but ‘117 always argued that with age came experience, and with experience came knowledge, which in turn led to wisdom. It was Mode who constructed Moe’s suit, led Des’s surgery, gave V his wings and taught Zed sign language. A true veteran. He had been through it all.

But Mode never helped Hordak with anything, ‘ 117 was a medic, he was compelled to fix others. But when Hordak first arrived at the frontlines of Primus Minor, he isolated himself from everyone else, kept to himself. Hordak treated his own wounds, he worked on his armour alone. When he took the suit off, he was forced to walk on his own, no armour support system. And so he locked himself in an unused compartment of the trenches and over the course of six months, he learned how to walk. Baby steps to an adult man, who never had a childhood. Mode gathered from all of that, that Hordak was a loner. A solo act. Didn’t do well with people.

There came a day when Mode pulled Hordak off to the side and asked him why he worked through all that baggage alone? Why didn’t he ask for aid? Why did he ignore them? Hordak apologised that it seemed like he was avoiding them. And what Hordak said back in response was more of a cryptid puzzle than an actual answer

“Mode... If there is good and evil.

And good is better than evil.

God has to be good... Right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, are we good? Are we... like him?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s no such thing as good or evil.

But it’d be nice... to be good.”

It was clear that Hordak, was on a long journey, one he had to trek himself. Search and find the meaning of it all on his own, in his mind. He needed to find his own meaning and purpose. And what that meant to him.

“So, anybody got any idea how much time we’ve got left?” Despara asked looking at Modulok. Who just shrugged in return, he didn’t exactly have a timer, he simply estimated the time remaining. “So that’s a no? We don’t kno- We can just blow up at any second?... Cool.” Des combed her hair with her fingers to calm her nerves.

“You really think a timer would settle your nerves?” Moe asked unconvinced.

“I suppose not.” Des admitted.

“I could’ve been with her.” Hordak spoke up suddenly in the middle of the conversation, honestly he was so quiet Despara forgot he was there, even though he was seated right next to her.

“What’d ya mean?”

“I could’ve saved myself... the First Ones crystal, it’s a server. To help me sync up with her new armour, Entrapta recorded my brain waves on the crystal. My memories, my thoughts, my personality, all of it... I could have given it to her when I last saw her.

But I didn’t.

I lied.

I left her.”

All five siblings turned their heads side to side take turns looking at each other and then back at Hordak. His face unmoved. Looking at the purple crystal. Zed stood up and broke free of Moe’s embrace. The young one stepped up to him. Hordak’s blood red eyes drifted up to the boy’s hands. He signed.

‘Why?’

“...Because it wouldn’t be me. Not me. A clone of me.”

The clones fell silent. Head bowing down. No more needed to be said. Every aspect of their lives had been thrown into question, into uncertainty. When the assault on The Velvet Glove happened, Hordak was leading the charge. Prime captured him and tortured him, he hurt him in front of Entrapta. He fell to his knees and crawled back to Prime, like he always did. But this time it was different, he stood up, he walked to him. Like a man, not a dog. Prime insulted and demeaned him. Prime claimed that Hordak wasn’t a person. Clones were nothing, ‘mere shadows of his greatness’. The clones were him, just dirtier, unclean. A lesser version of what he was.

This was their stance against that. Showing that their lives meant something. That they were worth something. They were worth the world, for that was what they were saving.

The force field beneath them gave off a thunderous sound, a final warning. The bay shook one more time, the artificial gravity became disabled and the room began to tilt and shift. The metal walls crumbled like paper. The walkway began to swing and crack. Mode took V’s unbroken hand into his own. Moe embraced Zed in his arms one last time. Dess wrapped her arm around Hordak’s shoulder, and he in turn pressed his head against hers.

Modulok gave his last words in the form of a question, “...Do... Do you think... Could we have done something, could we have ended up with a happy ending, all of us? Could we have been good? Would it have made any difference?”

Hordak spent his last moments thinking, he didn’t realise he was thinking out loud, “Good? I think there’s no such thing as good...

But that would’ve been nice...”

The force field imploded, gave in. The fire broke through. The Velvet Glove burned up in the atmosphere. And the clones were no more. And on that day all of Etheria cheered, and celebrated. For the evil was vanquished.

[latitudesunknown]

Tiny Haven Gazette #3

In which I drop the gazette format because it takes an ungodly amount of time and nobody cares. 🎉

My house gets a first floor, and coincidentally, my storage doubles, which is a relief. That should free me from spending 30mn every day desperately trying to figure out what to part with for at least a month.

So much space!

And now that it’s been upgraded, I get more customization options and can change the outside of my house!

¨🦄¨

By sheer dumb luck, I finally figure out how to get money trees!!!! I can’t believe it took me so long (although I’m very happy I never looked the answer up online). I should have known there was something up with the glowing golden hole that appeared whenever you dug up some money, that thing was clearly magic!

My pockets were full, so I had no choice but to bury back the money bag I’d just dug out, and this happened. Honestly considering how often I walk around with full pockets I’m astounded this didn’t happen sooner.

So now I have a little money tree orchard. Next experience: does the money tree give you MORE money if you plant a bigger money bag? Tried it this morning, will get an answer in a few days.

¨🦄¨

Raiiiiinbow!

That’s it. There’s no story to go with it, but it’s the first rainbow I’ve seen in the game!

¨🦄¨

I can’t stop thinking about that sweet little cow I saw on @astorytotellyourfriends​​ ‘s island last week, so I decide to build the last house in the hopes of finding her on an island and inviting her over. 

In the process, I realize I could have built myself a beach house all along.

Damnit!

To my horror, however, the very next morning, the house has been sold to a stranger!

Thankfully, my new neighbour, while not being Norma, is just as sweet.

I covet her living room SO BADLY. And also I kinda wanna eat her. Why would you design a rhinoceros to look like a cake?! She must get nightmares where people run after her, trying to bite off her strawberry horn.

¨🦄¨

Shortly after, and as a result of me ignoring him completely for a few days, Phebus FINALLY decides to leave the island.

I actually took a chance when I decided to talk to him, considering that’s the way he always looks.

“Good luck with the neighbours, their stories and their problems... you’re going to need a good dose of patience!”

That shouldn’t be a problem because, unlike you, I actually like people!

And because I like people, of course, joke’s on me, because I feel super sad to see him leave. 🙄

¨🦄¨

Following his departure, I start buying mystery island tickets like a crazy person, hoping to bump into Norma, but so far, no luck.

Why did I meet so many chickens?!

It’s the second day Phebus’s old house is on sale and I’m sure it’ll get sold to a random NPC any second now. The stress is intense!

¨🦄¨ 

I don’t know what’s up with them but everyone on the island keeps asking me if they should change their catchphrases! After the tenth time, I finally give in with Lili, assuming she’ll just come up with a new one on her own, but then am faced with a horrible screen that is asking ME to come up with something on the spot!

Have I mentioned how much I love it when she makes that face?

It took me ten minutes and some internet research to come up with this. This is too big of a responsibility!!

At least she was happy about it.

I’ve gone back to refusing to help the others, though. At least not until I can come up with proper catchphrases for them!

¨🦄¨

For the very first time, I get asked to play postman for my villagers. See, Nacer’s been bonding with Kali (no wonder, since they’re both jocks), but he was too shy to give him a present himself.

“Kali has helped me so much, I picked up a present for him. But I’m too shy to give it to him myself...”

Feeling like cupid, I hurry to Kali’s house. 👼🏹💘

“A frog costume! Oh la la!”

I have to admit that wasn’t the kind of gift I’d been expecting considering how much they both love sports, but ok!

“Did Kali say something about the gift?”

That was super cute, I hope I’ll get more requests like it!

¨🦄¨

In the span of one week I must have learnt about 20 new mimics, which, honestly, I find baffling. Most of them are just sliiiiight variations, it’s ridiculous. In the game I used to work on we ended up with about 50 expressions per character, but that was because they needed to express a wide range of emotions in very subtle ways. You don’t need that for cute island critters, especially when emoting is such a slow process in the first place!

¨🦄¨

Justine visits again one night, which gets everyone on the island talking.

“Since we have a visitor, I’ve baked some cakes. I hope she’ll like them...”

“I absolutely MUST tell her ‘hi’ before she leaves!”

“No, don’t mind me, you’ve got a visitor! Focus on being a good hostess!”

I like their reactions so much I spend more time speaking with my islanders than my visitors whenever I have one, haha.

Also, I love the smoke trails in the sky whenever a plane leaves. That small connection to a bigger world is very comforting.

¨🦄¨ 

Abraham, true to himself, is adorable.

“Good evening, sweets! Grum grom grom... My tummy also says good evening!”

🥰

Later we play to a little game with freakishly accurate results.

“Let’s play! Tell me your favourite color, and I will tell you what food you are.”

“You chose orange, which means you’re easy to live with, but you can also sometimes feel lonely.”

In the end, he said I was an onion. Layers, y’see.

¨🦄¨

I also finally figure out how to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, and get treated to many a story.

Lili : I just read my horoscope... You’re not gonna believe it! It’s sick!

Phebus : What am I supposed to not believe, exactly? The horoscope, or the fact that you managed to read it through? You know what, just tell me what it said, let’s get this over with.

Lili : Listen to this... “Your travels will bring good surprises.” Isn’t that sick?! Especially for me, because I love good surprises!

Phebus : Um... I guess? I mean, I don’t know. How did that make you sick? I’m confused.

Lili : Nah, just wait! After that, I went shopping, and it was the spring sales! Get that, I got a sweet little dress on sale! I was so happy I thought I was going to pass out!

Phebus : What?! Don’t kid with that! D’you need me to call for help?

Lili (totally ignoring him) : So anyway I put on my new dress and went for a walk. And that’s when it started raining big time, and I got drenched... Why didn’t my horoscope warn me about that?!

Phebus : I don’t know... have you tried reading the weather column instead?

¨🦄¨ 

I catch Vanessa and Maëlle talking about a movie they both watched... except they both remember it very differently...

Maëlle : Oh, Vanessa, thanks for lending me that movie, I loved it! The costumes were gorgeous... I want the leading lady’s straw hat!

Vanessa : And that chase in hydro planes! Pfiiiiiiiouuu, ppfffz, ka-BOUM! That was awesome sauce!

Maëlle : And that dress with golden trimmings that she wears at the picnic... that was fine art!

Vanessa : And what about the fight against the giant robot? When he punches a hole in the planet? Whazaam!

Maëlle : Yes! He really stole the scene with his diamond plates... It must have cost a fortune! ... ... Wait, did you say he punched a hole in a planet? Was that before or after the ball?

😂

¨🦄¨

Later, I find the same two talking about Maëlle’s insect infestation problem (probably caused by all the sweets she keeps in her house, just saying). When she asks me what I would do, I tell her I’d just move out, which gets me a VERY judgmental look from Vanessa.

“How do you manage to get rid of them?”

Vanessa’s solution, in the end, is for Maëlle to sell her house to “an insect-loving weirdo”. I wish I knew if that was a dig at Abraham or if it’s just a coincidence.

“Bah, that can’t be impossible. You just need a real weirdo who thinks insects aren’t so bad!”

¨🦄¨

Lili and Raymond get into a big argument about Lili’s cooking skills...

Raymond : By the way, Lili, I haven’t thanked you for lunch the other day! It was very good!

Lili : “Very good”? Seriously, don’t you have something even more corny? Nobody says that anymore! Don’t you mean it was delicious? Or maybe extremely refined? Or maybe super exquisite?

Raymond : Oh! You’re right, I’m sorry. Um, it was... delectable... succulent... A concentrate of sheer deliciousness!

Lili : And?

Raymond : And... every bite sent my taste buds into a transcendental ecstasy?

Lili : Oh! Is that a question or a statement, Raymond?

Raymond : A statement, of course! Pff... All that to describe a stupid sole meunière...

Lili : Don’t tell me you’ve just called my sole meunière, my mother’s own recipe!, “stupid”?!

I’m still amazed that they parted in good terms, I thought for sure Lili would keep on fuming

¨🦄¨

After trying to get my first residents to spruce up their apartments, with mitigating results...

I mean, the ball, jars and punching sack are all gifts of mine, so that’s cool he’s got them all out at the same time, but that’s still a sad little barren house.

I finally look it up online and discover their houses are actually not supposed to be like this at all! Turns out poor Nacer, Vanessa, Abraham, Renée and Lili are all stuck with generic houses because they got to my island too soon!

This is what Renée’s house should look like! 

So I’ve decided to try and gift them all their true houses’ furniture, little by little. I know they can’t change their wallpapers or floors, but hopefully if I get them the right couches, beds, etc, they’ll display them all. 🤞

[justsomelarryfics]

I have decided to start doing monthly fic recs! This will include all of the fics that I read, finished, and enjoyed this month. I will first do fics that came out this month, and then I will do ones that are older that I read this month.

Sorted by length

New this month

Happy Valentine’s Day, You Cockroach by @allwaswell16 -  Harry Styles, new director of the Milltown Zoo, has a great idea for a Valentine's Day themed fundraiser. For a donation, they'll name cockroaches after people's exes and then feed them to the meerkats on a live stream. He just didn't foresee how many cockroaches would end up with his name... (one shot, 2k)

What Am I Gonna Say When I See You by @runaway-train-works - “I wouldn’t have asked you to come if he didn’t want you there.” Louis hands her the gift bag when he reaches the pavement beside her and they turn to walk down the street to the house he has been in too many times to count. “I know you wouldn’t, but I haven’t seen him in forever. And you said it was just close family and friends going.” “You are close family and friends. A lot closer than I am. The main reason I’m going is because mum made me since she’s sick in bed with the flu.” Louis kind of wishes he was sick in bed with the flu. He shouldn’t be this apprehensive. It’s Harry. It’s only Harry. And yeah, they might not have seen each other in almost six years, but they're still friends. Aren’t they? Or The one where Louis' unsure if too much time has passed since he last saw his childhood best friend to try and make things right. (one shot, 7k)

I wish that I could let you love me for @popularryculture -  Could he handle leaving for six months? He asked himself in his head, and soon enough another question followed: could he handle staying, knowing who he would be staying for? (one shot, 12k, inspired by Little Mix’s song Oops)

If That’s Not Love Then What Is -  There are a few things in life that Louis Tomlinson cannot stand - Conversation Hearts candy and Harry Styles. But when Harry gets broken up with the day before Valentine's, and Louis is the only one he can turn to, he starts to reevaluate things. (one shot, 17k)

your rainbow will come smiling through by @hazkabaan for @popularryculture - when harry isn't working at his stepfather's cafe, he's trying to make swim captain and trying to finish all his coursework on time. when he's not doing any of those things, he's talking to the boy he met on the oxford hopefuls subreddit. when they decide to meet, he's elated. he finally gets the chance to meet the boy he's been crushing on! when the day comes to meet his prince, he learns that his online crush is none other than louis tomlinson, captain of the football team and friend of his terrible stepbrothers. now harry has to decide whether telling louis the truth is the right choice or if it's better to just let sleeping dogs lie. a cinderella story au (one shot, 17k)

Brave Love by @angelichl -  Harry breaks up with his boyfriend a day before Valentine's Day and Louis tries to cheer him up. (one shot, 17k)

Tell Me Your Secrets by @dimpled-halo for @popularryculture - “You!” They both yell in unison. Niall looks between the two of them. “You know each other?”Harry scoffs and looks away from Louis Tomlinson to meet Niall’s gaze. “Remember that guy in college I told you about? The one that was at that frat party and drunk as fuck and then I gave him a ride to his dorm but on our way there he decided to pee in an empty cup in my car?” Niall’s eyes widen and he stares at Louis laughing. “You mean the one who spilled his piss all over you?” “Hey, that wasn’t my fault. Harry here was being a little priss the entire time and he ran over a speed bump without slowing down and it caused me to make a mess. You also didn’t have to leave me stranded in the middle of the night for something you caused.” Louis snaps back. Harry rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” A For a Good Time Call au where Harry and Louis get off on the wrong foot when they first meet. When dire circumstances forces them to become roommates, Harry finds out some things about Louis that he doesn't expect will help him discover some things about himself. (chaptered, complete, 17k)

Soup of the Day by @jacaranda-bloom - It had been the single minded goal for them since college and seemed simple enough. 1. Study hard. 2. Open their dream restaurant. 3. Take the culinary world by storm.What could possibly go wrong? Or the Restaurant AU where Louis and Niall are chefs, Chicago is windy, and cracking the big time is harder than they ever imagined. But when a mysterious man starts grading Louis' soups by leaving little piles of rocks, could it be just the thing they need to get them on the road to success? (chaptered, complete, 19k)

If You’re The Storm, Then I’m The Chaser by @loveislarryislove for @popularryculture - An AU based on Ed Sheeran's song "New Man" Louis is back in town for the first time since he and Harry broke up six months ago. He's not sure what would hurt more, if Harry has moved on or if he's still as torn up as Louis is. He never even considered that Harry would be acting like a completely different person. And maybe he really is as happy as he keeps insisting, but Louis really doesn't think so.~*~*~*~“Who are you and what have you done to Harry Styles?” It sounds corny as fuck, and Harry bursts into laughter, but Louis means it. He barely recognizes Harry, every word out of his mouth sounding like it belongs to someone else. This isn’t him. This isn’t him at all. “I’m the same person,” Harry says with a shrug. “I just get what I want now. And tonight, that means you.” "This just isn't you,” Louis says, shaking his head. “This isn’t the Harry I lo – the Harry I knew at all.” Harry stares at him for a long moment. “Maybe you didn’t know me as well as you thought,” he says at last. (one shot, 21k, read warnings)

The Pain Is For Pleasure by @chloehl10 for @hlbdsmficfest - “Louis, please. I promise you, you are so attractive to me. I love you, and I think you are the sexiest man I’ve ever been with-”“But Harry, that’s the fucking problem! You haven’t been with me, have you?! You don’t want me in that way, it’s pretty clear…” He cut him off, feeling that he was about to say something he would later regret. “If there’s a problem, I wish that you felt you could have told me, rather than, well, this.”“Louis, I-”“Just leave it, Haz. I get it, okay?”“No! You don’t, you have no fucking idea, Louis!”Louis and Harry have been together for a few months. Everything is great, but there’s one question burning in the back of Louis' mind - why won’t Harry have sex with him? (chaptered, complete, 67k)

Older fics

an honest mistake by @disgruntledkittenface for @1dshortficfest - “You look different when you’re not covered in come,” he blurts out, immediately regretting each and every life choice that has led to this exact moment. Elevator Guy is going to hate him. Louis has ridden the elevator with his neighbor all week. The first time they speak, there’s a misunderstanding. (one shot, 2k, 2019)

Take Your Time by @laynefaire for @litelarryquotechallenge - When Harry finds himself in the middle of a messy break-up with no place to live, Louis offers a spare room in his flat. Unbeknownst to Harry, Louis has been infatuated for years. Over the objections of their friends, who know the truth, Harry accepts. Can Louis survive Harry moving into his home…and closer to his heart? Will Harry see what's right in front of him? (one shot, 11k, 2018)

don’t be afraid, it’s only love -  A proposal!AU where Louis is at risk of being deported back to England and Harry just really wants a promotion. (one shot, 14k, 2013)

Never Too Late by @dimpled-halo - Harry’s confused for a moment before it hits him: the little boy is signing. Harry squats down to get to the boy’s level again and mirrors the same action. “Dad?” He inquires. Harry learned basic sign language after having met a fan who was deaf. He made it his mission to learn signing so that he’d be able to communicate with other fellow hearing impaired fans.The little boy smiles brightly, his tears now long gone. He goes on to extend both hands, palms up as if he’s asking where? Followed by the previous sign which means Dad. Harry smiles to himself at the amazing little guy standing in front of him.He stands up taking the boy’s hand, “Let’s go find your dad,” he tells him making the motion with his hand.Just having come out of the closet and recovering from vocal surgery, famous recording artist Harry Styles needs to get away from LA to work on new music needing to prove to his label that his career isn't over. Little does he know that his life is about to change forever when he runs into an old friend at the city he's decided to escape to. (one shot, 18k)

what, like it’s hard? by @thewriternotthemuse for @popularryculture - Louis sighs contentedly. “I’m just so marvelously happy, ya’ know?” “Good for you.” “It really is. It’s--it’s quite grand, actually. I’m going to my dream school with my dream man, to whom I am engaged. I have great friends. Life couldn’t be better.” “Very happy for you.” “Thanks.” Louis beams before her expression falls. “And then you had to come here and ruin everything.” “Yeah, I know,” Harry snaps. “I’m the bane of your existence for some reason.” “You certainly are,” Louis says, considering Harry. ~~~ In which Harry goes to law school to win back her man, but gets a lot more than she bargained for. (one shot, 21k, 2019)

Making Waves by @haztobegood for @popularryculture - After Louis Tomlinson, an arrogant millionaire, is thrown overboard and loses his memory, a mistreated employee convinces him that they are married. Thrust into an unfamiliar life he cannot remember, Louis must learn to live with his new husband and daughters and adjust to a less extravagant life. Or, the one where Louis can’t remember, Harry needs money, and Niall has a plan. An Overboard AU. (one shot, 30k, 2019)

Keep on Dreaming, This is Hollywood - Louis Tomlinson, a pop star manager, makes his way to LA with a pop star (and his new music demands) and a very busy schedule. Harry Styles came to Los Angeles with a dream and ended up sharing a flat and an occupation with a male prostitute from Ireland. What happens when Louis meets Harry, and makes him an offer he can't refuse? AKA A Pretty Woman AU where Louis is the high-powered businessman and Harry is the hooker. No, there is no necklace scene, but there is definitely piano sex. (one shot, 31k, 2013)

Is This Seat Taken? by @lainy122 - A borrowed suit from Zayn, a cigarette and the right attitude, and Louis went from security breach to misplaced celebrity instantly. He could practically see the wheels in the security guy’s head switch from ‘could be dangerous’ to ‘could get me fired’. L.A was so predictable.Louis makes a bet with Zayn that he can sneak into a music awards event without getting caught, and when he ends up posing as a seat-filling member of staff he runs into superstar Harry Styles and sparks fly. Que the music. (one shot, 35k, locked, 2015)

[fantroll-purgatory]

Haemir Elazra - Doctroll Extraordinaire

Planet: Alternia, minor AU/Alternate History elements

Name: Haemir Elazra Haemir: From Haem, an alternative spelling of Heme, the oxygen-carrying, iron-containing molecule in blood. Links up to his blood caste woes and his lusus.

Elazra: From Azrael, Angel of Death, and Lazarus, the man brought back to life. It fits in with his role as a healer on a planet of death and slaughter, and also to his status as the last living limeblood. An Angel of Death is also a specific kind of serial killer; a nurse that kills their own patients. Fun fact! @chaoticevilfantrolls (SA here to say that you have designed a troll that 400000% appeals to my interests. I screamed when I opened the box and saw him here!)

Age: 7.5 sweeps. He’s a youngster, compared to my other trolls.

Strife Specibus: caneKind. Not much reason behind it beyond the fact that actual IRL plague doctors would use canes to distribute treatment. Plus the Rod of Asclepius could reasonably fit under this strife spec. (If you wanted to go a bit more Black Death with it, you could weaponize some herbal medicine for poisons? Fight with some syringes?)

Fetch Modus: Quarantine. Items are stored and sterilized in little plastic bubbles. It makes cleaning his equipment a breeze! But, he can’t store anything he intends to eat, and living things have a habit of turning up dead from the storage process. 

Blood color: Limeblood! The whole concept of the character revolves around a mysterious figure with strong empathy becoming a doctor to soothe the woes of others, so I figured a lone limeblood would work. He’s based heavily around the headcanon that limebloods were killed off for their empathic abilities, which lead to a rebellion in this particular setting. (We LOVE an Empath Limeblood. I have not reviewed your other trolls, so I don’t wanna poke too much into Limeblood Politics without knowing the AU, but if they’re still in hiding, I’d suggest on blood-color alone a little bit of generational trauma? A little skittishness from Literally Feeling all of the death and pain his people have gone through, and the Knowledge that that kind of feeling comes with.)

Symbol and meaning: The alchemic symbol for Alkali. Alkali are chemically basic substances used to make soap. That’s about as far as that goes for depth, haha.  (Soap Troll! Soap Troll! Soap Troll!) (There’s a whole suite of Alchemic Symbols out there, but if we’re zooming in on a Soap Troll, I think this dovetails into some expansion. Let me explain:) (Soap’s a cleansing agent, both of wounds and of places. Most alkaline substances (think Lye and Quicklime) wash things away with ferocity, and can burn skin. I think you could easily expand Haemir -who already has a darker, death element to him- with a bit of vengeance? A bit of anger? Something sincere and hard to excise from himself. Someone who, at his core, wants to wash away the sins of the past and plant the seeds of tomorrow.)

Trolltag: caduceusCreed [CC] Caduceus: The staff carried by Hermes, associated with the medical profession through it’s adoption as a symbol of American military medics. The Caduceus was mistakenly chosen over the Rod of Asclepius, and thus has become a bit of a point of contention in the medical professions (for those that even give a shit, at least.) Creed: Well. I mean. Kind of a reference to the Hippocratic Oath, just in a way that fits GCAT, out of personal preference.  (Basic, easy to scan, and effective. I think you could use Asclepion instead of Cadecus for a more fitting tag, though using old Traveler Man’s symbol could hint at a desire to travel, to tell, to proclaim.)

Quirk: He’s got a simple quirk going. All lowercase, with t’s turned into crosses and doubled, as well as doubled x’s to represent stitches. He otherwise uses proper punctuation, and he really capitalizes on his corny jokes to ease the stress of his patients (putting the pun in all caps). He represents his mask in his smiley faces. Which is to say, he only ever uses one smiley for all emotions ever. 8>

CC: ++he quick brown foxx jumped over ++he lazy dog. (This scans well and doesn’t seem too out of place.)

Special Abilities:Beyond having an extensive knowledge of medical practice, as well as some more traditional healing, Haemir’s most fundamental ability is that he’s a powerful empath. He’s not able to impact the emotions of others, nor can he weaponize the feelings he picks up upon. No, the danger of his power is from how it encourages him to help and heal.

Haemir is able to pick up on the emotions and feelings of near-by trolls, especially discomfort and misery. Because he’s a bit of a soft boy, and because he personally feels that discomfort himself, he feels compelled to treat that discomfort in any way he can. He’s been a doctor as much as he’s been a stand-in moirail. (I think my conflict with your vision from a review standpoint comes here. Nothing about the ability needs to change, but I think you’ve let it dominate your character’s Path, put a pin in this- we’ll talk about it further into the review.)

Lusus: You know the big snake monster from Hiveswap? The one with like, sixteen arms? Imagine that, but a horse-sized white leech with massive fangs. That’s the Leech-Lord, and Haemir’s main mode of transportation.  (I find this ESPECIALLY amusing because both of my limeblood trolls have serpentine-modified lusii. Limebloods really just have that Slithery Energies.)

Personality: Haemir is… odd, and by most trolls standards an aberration. He’s a limeblood empath on a hostile world with a strong inclination to help people, even when he knows there’s no reward in it for him. This doesn’t mean he’s a fool, by any means, even if other trolls tend to confuse his compassion and conviction for cowardice. 

He believes strongly in everyone’s right to live, and live well, even if another troll would see him dead for his blood color. That’s why he dresses in heavy clothes, wearing a mask at all times to hide any hint of skin or mark that could potentially betray his color. He also tends to be very flighty and anxious when people attempt to get too touchy with him, often prompting adorable squeaks of frustration. He’s perfectly capable of speech, mind, he just chooses not to most of the time.  (We’re getting into it! There’s a nice undercurrent of justice, of human(troll) rights, of life and death and the societies we build to combat them. Being shaped by the society he lives in and yet wanting to change it, ignoring what’s laid before him to forge his own path…)

Interests: Medicine, biology, anatomy and physiology, and surprisingly enough, an appreciation for teen romance novels and movies. He just wishes there were less books about rainbow drinkers and lycanthropes and more about those hot, hot plague doctors.  (Hshshshshshshsh I want him to have gotten into the Plague Doctor getup due to some ill-advised CW Show about Troll Black Death and he was like “that’s it! I’m gonna dress like a featherbeast!”)

(For expansions on this: I definitely think History is a solid interest, given that he dresses up like a historical profession. Reading about the Limeblood Rebellion and the flow of Alternia- he’s probably done a lot of reading on the Condesce as well- learning how to Speak Truth to Power and how a Ruler shapes the lives of people she’ll never meet and- I could be here all day.)

Title: Sylph of Heart (I will be blunt with you: This character is neither of these things. Remember my comment under Special Powers? Here’s where we take that pin out.) (You’ve built an incredibly solid character here, which makes pointing this out very, very easy. I scanned this profile once and knew immediately what I was going to recommend.) (Let’s talk about why this is ill fitting: -First, this character is no Passive character. He already has the team/community focus that a Passive class would teach him, and given that- he’s taken matters into his own hands. This is a really solid Active player. -With Creation classes (and Sylphs ESPECIALLY), you have to think: What is this character destroying? A Sylph is but a Prince reflected. With Heart, your character would be Actively Destroying Mind- breaking people’s brains and toying with their emotions. Your character FEELS their emotions biologically, he doesn’t go out of his way to take hammers to their decision making. Sylphs also LOVE to meddle, which is why healing comes naturally to them. Your character has elements of this, but not in quite the sly, background kind of way.) (Heart, is traditionally linked to Derse (similar to Time) because it’s portfolio of disguise, facade, and truth being mutable all lend themselves very well to the Dersite playstyle. Your character, while hiding his face, doesn’t deal in facades as much as your typical Heart player, nor does his path as a character seem to fortell him learning to be different people or play with their heartstrings.) (My recommendation: Maid of Life or Bard of Doom) (But SA! A doctor that’s a Life player? That’s so cliche! And yes, it would be, on a character without as many hooks as this one.) (Maids learn to rely on themselves- look at Aradia, who dies and comes back in many forms as she takes time into herself. Your character looks like a Doom Player, and yet is a healer, and grower, a shaper.) (The Life-Doom inversion is much more than Life and Death, it is also Energy and Society. Your character is a healer, an active bringer of Life, and in doing so, not only directly counters Death, but Alternian Culture too. Your character isn’t a Prince of Doom, for instance: he’s not actively challenging society, he’s changing it as a side effect of his own actions.  Life-Doom is much broader than individuals.) (The Path for this character is less in changing as a person and more in reinforcing his good nature. Learning to be more open, learning what needs to be done, learning how he can be the force of good in the world that he’s already being, even if it feels small.)

Land:Land of Miasma and Malaise

Dream Planet: Prospit (I like this guy as a Prospit Dreamer. Even if he hides his face, he can’t really hide who he is- that sense of care and justice end empathy shines right on through.)

CD here with the design time at SA’s behest. The design was already pretty much perfect, just a few little tweaks. The design read a little costumey/like a human dressed up as a troll and I wanted to fix that. So as Really, Really Cute as the eyes were, I replaced them w/ more typical shiny plague doctor lenses in a still contrasty eyeball orange. I put some hair over the horns to make them feel more integrated and less tacked on, and I adjusted the outlines of the shoes to make them feel more integrated and less like the human kids’ shoes! 

(This was a great troll to work through, thank you for submitting!)

[bbbarneswrites]

What if Bucky was a single dad?

Notes: Nearly 3k words of single daddy!Bucky and teacher!reader just because me and @pimpdaddysebastian​ love corny shit. Happy reading!

A few years in into being an official member of the Avengers, Bucky thinks he’s got everything figured out.

After the accords fiasco and his homecoming, Bucky seems to think that joining the Avengers is the only way he can redeem himself for the harm he’s caused with HYDRA and so he falls just right into the team with his skills, being assigned to special and specific missions by Steve and Natasha.

Since Romania, many things has changed for him – now he’s back in America with his best-friend by his side, a new arm that doesn’t feel like a dirty reminder of his past and a mind to call his own thanks to T’Challa and the wakandan doctors. He’s no longer considered a fugitive, he doesn’t have to worry about looking for his back anymore and he’s glad about having a proper roof upon his head for a change. 

Bucky thinks he’s got everything figured out until he’s assigned to a mission in Germany. 

The gruesome memories of his past hits him hard as he enters the shady lab, originally meant to experiment on humans and mutants but now looking recently abandoned at the word of the Avengers arrival. And even though the atmosphere is way too familiar for his own comfort, Bucky is set and focused to finish the mission. 

That is, until the hears the soft cries of a baby coming from one of the cells. 

He nearly doesn’t believe his eyes once he breaks the cell’s door and and sees the small body rolling around on the floor, protected with just a few pillows and a thin blanket. Bucky doesn’t waste any time on crouching down to cradle the baby in his arms and he can’t help but feel angry at the monsters who left the child behind without second thought. 

To say the team is surprised to see him stepping into the quinjet with the baby curled up against his chest is an understatement but nobody dares to say a thing, even after they land at the base and Bucky’s storming off to his room with Steve and Sam on his tail. 

Steve and Sam don’t even know what to say when Bucky states he’s keeping the baby no matter what, immediately turning down every other option they give. All that’s left for them to do is to help him settle for the night with Wanda’s help, feeding and bathing the baby as best as they can with no resources or skills at all. 

Bucky spends that night completely awake, eyes set on the small child sleeping soundly beside him on the bed. A brown haired baby girl that holds a pair of big hazel eyes that he names her after. 

The next day is just as eventful as the previous one as he goes out shopping for baby stuff with Steve and Sam.

It’s a sight to behold really, Captain America pushing a cart with a chirpy baby girl sitting inside while the Falcon and Winter Soldier fight over what to buy in the middle of a Buy Buy Baby store. 

The first week is confusing and difficult at times but Bucky doesn’t mind one bit as he starts to remember helpful bits and pieces of his childhood with baby Rebecca. By the second week, all Natasha can do is tease him about being a father, Wanda is surprised that he’s picked up the skills this fast and Steve and Sam are still clueless as ever, so much that Bucky actually starts to teach them how warm Hazel likes her milk, how to hold her during a feed or what they should use to give her a bath. 

With Helen’s help (even though dealing with babies is not even near her speciality), they find out she’s probably nearing her 6th month and Bucky straight up dives in websites and books to learn more about the said stage. 

Some of her actions start to make sense once he reads a book about baby development – she’s always grabbing at whatever she can reach as she’s growing fascinated with feeling different textures, her eyes are always in alert and she seems to notice every little detail on whatever it’s around her and every once in a while he catches her babbling to whoever is speaking at the moment. 

That means she’s fascinated in grabbing (more like pulling) his hair and feeling his beard, highly attentive to people (she likes to stare at Vision a lot) and very well-acquainted with FRIDAY (the A.I. seems to love her babbling just as much she loves its voice). 

Hazel completely warms up her way up into everyone’s hearts and soon there’s an actual fight over who’s going to be her godfather and godmother. 

Steve looks like he’s about to burst with joy when Bucky announces there’s no way her godfather could be anyone but him and Natasha...just threatens anyone who try to fight her for the godmother spot. 

The Avengers routine gets completely upside down with the baby girl’s arrival and after a while they all have an actual schedule as to when to prepare her meals and milk, to put her to take a nap, to take her for a bath and bed. Not to mention the base itself that is now littered with baby accessories and toys everywhere, all the possible dangerous places babyproofed or locked. 

Hazel starts crawling about her 10th month but when she actually starts walking nearing her 1st birthday, everyone goes in full panic resulting in a constant proud superheros watch over her every step. 

Her 1st birthday party is just a small gathering with the team but still memorable enough. 

The living room ends up completely taken by colorful balloons as they all wear rainbow colored party hats, with Hazel looking nothing but delighted during the whole ordeal. The party also ends up resulting on Hazel’s first meeting with the God of thunder (who actually wanted to take her to Asgard for a quick visit) and a series of photos (Bucky especially loves the one his baby girl is all dirtied up with cake) that turn into a cute scrapbook made by Wanda later. 

Ever since Bucky got the baby books months ago, he’s been actually conversing to Hazel as a way to encourage her speech. It isn’t unusual to find him randomly talking to her in every room of the base and everyone gets used to it at some point though there’s an occasional teasing jab here and there sometimes. 

Nobody thinks much of it until she’s a few weeks past her 1 year-old mark and she starts calling out Bub up and down everytime Bucky’s in the room. 

(After a week, everyone is fed up with Bucky and his constant smug smirk whenever Hazel calls for him).

If the place had gotten sweeter upon her arrival months ago, now that Hazel’s actively speaking and walking it’s decidedly even better. 

She picks up some russian terms of endearment Natasha’s teached and starts calling everyone that way (even FRIDAY), sings a few of the indie songs Wanda plays with her guitar (and dances to match it), learns to call all the team as auntie and uncle (though Vision doesn’t understand why) and runs everywhere around the base with her toys (so much they thought they’d lost her once). 

To Bucky, her arrival means more than he’d ever imagined. 

He gets to fall asleep everyday with his baby cuddling his side and wake up to her either taking up the whole space on the bed or palming his cheeks with her little hands as she kisses him good morning. He gets to hear her giggle and watch her dance and sing and run as the healthiest and happiest kid he’s seen. He gets to tell her stories about his childhood with Uncle Steve. He gets to see her face light up as she screams his name excitedly everytime he comes back from a mission. He gets to see her worried about his injuries and he gets to cheer her up when she’s sad. 

His little baby changes his life completely and though he’s never planned or even thought about having a child, he can’t think of any other different way to live his life from now on. Hazel completely owns his heart and he’d do anything for her. 

Watching her grow up is a painful but yet pleasing feeling and when she completes 4 years-old, she’s so smart and outgoing that Bucky decides to sign her up for school as much as it worries him. 

(Her first day goes as smoothly as it can and despite Bucky’s absolute denial, he nearly tears up when she runs up the school’s stairs without a single bit of hesitation). 

Now that she’s in school, there’s a new routine – Bucky wakes up a little earlier to get her ready, Steve or Sam prepare her lunch after their breakfast and they all drop her off in the building before their usual morning run. 

(Hazel only leaves after she says goodbye to everyone in the base with sleepy kisses and hugs so every now and then they get a little late). 

Just like Bucky wasn’t expecting Hazel to appear in his life, he isn’t expecting you. 

The first time he actually speaks to you isn’t on a good note. 

All that he knows is that you’re Hazel’s kindergarten teacher and all the interaction you both had had been just a wave or a smile here and there when he dropped her off. Until mother’s day comes along and obviously an issue is raised in that matter. 

You know that Hazel stands out in the class for being an Avenger’s daughter and when it’s time to make crafted artworks for mother’s day, you quickly encourage her to do one for her father just as much you encourage the other kids who are in a similar situation. 

But the little girl is just too curious for her own good and once she starts questioning why she has to make it for her father instead of a mother, you can only think of calling the said man to explain the whole ordeal. 

Bucky has been through hell and back during his life but once you explain what’s been happening, he can’t help but feel insecure. During all those years, he’s been doing his best to raise her but at that moment all the can think of is that his best isn’t enough for Hazel. That maybe she could’ve been better with an actual normal family, not a bunch of superpowered people that could die at any moment. 

He doesn’t know how but you seem to pick up on his sudden nervousness but hearing that he is doing a great job by raising a sweet, smart, polite little girl calms his heart to no end. 

Past the mother’s day incident (that Hazel overcame by doing crafted artworks for the whole team instead), the little girl seems to grow fond of you by each day. 

Bucky grows used to seeing her say goodbye to her teacher with a tight hug and a big kiss and listening her gush about all the things Ms. (L/N) does for her in class. Coming to think of it, that’s probably how the both of you end up getting closer to each other – due to Hazel’s innocent matchmaking. 

It starts off with conversations solely focused on Hazel but after a few weeks, you both notice that the chats start to escalate to more than just school subjects. 

He doesn’t know if it’s Hazel’s doing or not but Bucky notices that Steve and Sam are picking up on it too and so they start to constantly tease him for it. So much that now they insist on going to pick her up too just so they can watch his misery. 

(There’s this day where Steve and Sam randomly show up at the school in time to catch you and Bucky talking rather excitedly as Hazel cuddled up to your side. 

You swear that the sight of the two Avengers smiling smugly at you as they stood with their arms crossed will never get old). 

As father’s day comes along a few months later, Bucky gets a better surprise. 

During all these years, Hazel’s always called him Bucky like everyone else. She grew up used to that and he’s never thought of changing it. She’s always been his daughter for him but there was always this small bit of insecurity that held him back of seeing himself as a father, especially with his past. But then there’s day she comes home from school with a pretty colored father’s day card a handmade gift that she hands him after a hug and a kiss and his heart is completely melting. 

Bucky doesn’t think it can better until she just nonchalantly calls him daddy for the first time later in the same day.

He’s just getting the plates out for her lunch when she goes, daddy, can I have some juice? and his heart is beating so fast that he feels it might jump out of his chest. The best part of it is that Hazel seems to be unfazed to his sudden wide eyes, rather seeing the whole situation as natural. 

The second best part is seeing the team’s reaction when she suddenly screams daddy! as Bucky enters the tv room before the movie night. Bucky has to yet see the Earth’s mightiest heroes that surprised again. 

At her 5th birthday party, Bucky gathers enough courage to invite you even though he knows he most definitely would have given up if it wasn’t for Hazel’s insistence. 

He isn’t expecting you to stay once the party’s over, protesting that you want to help with the clean-up despite the late hour and the lame excuse that there isn’t much to actually help with. 

As much as he tries to not to, Bucky can’t help but see you in a different light after that night. It feels good to know that there’s a connection between you two that goes beyond Hazel. You’re suddenly not just her teacher anymore though it warms up his heart to see that you and his baby still have some sort of bond even outside the school’s confines. 

Any shade of doubt Bucky previously had is thrown away when you kiss him midway through the clean-up, your smiling lips against his as you joke that you most definitely shouldn’t be doing this. 

Your relationship progresses with baby steps as you’re both trying to not mess the whole situation. 

Hazel is technically still your student and neither of you want to mix things up too fast in fear for your job, Hazel’s wellbeing and your blossoming partnership. The dates are quiet and intimate at small restaurants or your place. The nights you spend together (while the team babysits Hazel) are a delight even though Bucky always has to leave in the middle of the night in order to get Hazel ready for school in the morning. The phone calls and texts always have that teasing sense attached showing how comfortable you both grew to be around each other. 

It comes to the point where you think that maybe this could be real for good. 

It’s a challenge to convince Hazel that she can’t talk about them to her classmates and that you’re still her teacher no matter what’s been happening. But the little girl is just so ecstatic with the news that she promises (with both pinky fingers) to keep the secret if that means Ms. (L/N) will be around all the time. 

Bucky’s life after Hazel’s arrival had been amazing and he didn’t think it could be better until he saw himself with his two girls. 

There’s no words to describe the hapiness Bucky feels when he receives cute selfies and texts from both of you as you’re babysitting Hazel for the weekend with the whole team on a mission. Or when he’s welcomed home in the sweetest way ever with kisses and hugs and joyful giggles. Or when he falls asleep right in the middle of you cuddling the hell out of him and wakes up in the morning to see you happily interacting during breakfast. 

His girls never fail to amaze and overwhelm him – with love and affection, the little but sweet actions (handmade gifts and letters and drawings that never get old), little quirks and the loving relationship that is build (so much that Hazel’s second mother’s day gift is given to you). 

What Bucky feels for the both of you is beyond him but once again he finds a new purpose when Hazel gets a baby sister a few years later. 

Brooklyn is born a few months after Hazel’s 7th birthday and despite her first jealous reaction, she’s just as excited as her parents to welcome (and actually name) her little sister. 

And it’s only then, with his now three girls, that Bucky thinks he can finally say he’s got everything figured out.

[lordofthebigtimesupernatural]

Would you write Keith getting home really drunk after a party and shiro taking care of him while he's hungover? Thank you and have a good day!

What an experience for Keith. Not typical of him, but this was still highly amusing to write! I do hope you enjoy it and have another laugh (I have some angst prompts but I’ll give you all a break for now, so enjoy this fun!) today. Thanks for the prompt nonny and enjoy!

x.V.x

              “I don’t know Lance,” Keith said softly, leaning back on his couch. Next to him was Lance, one of his three best friends since he was four-years-old. Lance was certainly the most hyper and active within the group of friends. He was always coming up with new and exciting adventures for the group to do. Sometimes they were fun and sometimes, they were a disaster.

              This one felt like a disaster to Lance.

              “Keith, man, come on,” Lance moaned before draping himself over Keith and Hunk. The two looked at one another for a split second before they simultaneously shoved Lance off of them and onto the floor. Lance flopped ungracefully onto the hard floor, shouting and pouting the whole time.

              “Rude!” Lance snapped but didn’t take a seat on their laps again. Keith smirked, leaning up against Hunk while Pidge snickered at Lance’s fall. “I’m just trying to make the most of your time! I mean, you’ve been back from the army for six months now, for good and we can celebrate! You weren’t around much right after you turned 21, so we gotta take you out to some bars as if you were twenty-one and not twenty-three again!”

              “But do you honestly think bars are my thing?” Keith asked dryly.

              “Why wouldn’t they?” Lance merely shrugged, causing Pidge to snort out loud. Lance turned to Pidge in order to give them his most offended look ever, only for Pidge to completely ignore him.

              “First off, bars are loud,” Pidge pointed out on one finger. Keith saluted in agreement. “There are way too many people at bars. And they’re all drunk. That definitely sounds like Keith’s explanation of fun.”

              “Thank you Pidge.” The twenty-three-year-old Keith smiled at Pidge. Pidge returned the smile with a finger salute before going back to the book they were reading. Besides Keith, acting as a nice and warm pillow for Keith, Hunk nodded along with him.

              “Come on! You guys are always killing my buzz.” Lance practically moaned.

              “Your buzz could use a bit of killing,” Keith muttered under his breath. He earned a sharp glare from Keith to which he ignored.

              “Pidge. Hunk. Why can’t you be on my side?” Lance sighed dramatically. Pidge simply rolled their eyes and Hunk shrugged sheepishly. “Look, we’ve all seen each other before. You both have helped me out of bars several times before. It took Shiro, Pidge and I to get drunk Hunk home, and Pidge you were totally drunk every Christmas party we threw!”

              “Hey! That’s classified information.” Pidge shouted suddenly. Lance smirked and stuck his tongue out like a child would.

              “My point is, we’ve all seen each other drunk, hell, we’ve even seen Shiro and Allura and Coran drunk. And they’re our old teachers and father!” Lance said. Keith’s face turned red upon remembering that incident. His dad was a pretty good drinker, only drinking at celebrations or barbeques and even then, he usually has one or two drinks. However, after Keith’s return home, they’d all gone to celebrate at a restaurant where Shiro felt it was okay to have a couple of nice drinks and after a while, it was Keith and his friends watching over Shiro, Allura and Coran, to make sure they didn’t do anything they’d regret. Keith had bee stunned and slightly offended at seeing his indestructible dad drunk, though, after a few corny dad jokes and bad attempts at flirting with their waiter, Keith had several embarrassing videos of his father.

              “But have we ever seen drunk Keith? No!” Lance asked and then answered his own question before anyone had the chance to answer.

              “And why would I want to get drunk? Especially around you losers?” Keith rolled his eyes, whining when he earned a kick from Pidge. He glowered at his friend’s betrayal and sunk deeper into Hunk’s side, immediately earning a hug from the bigger man.

              Lance sighed heavily. “Look, man, you don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you don’t want to get drunk, then I will never force you too. If you don’t want to drink then I really won’t push it. I’m just teasing.”

              Keith blushed at the genuine tone of Lance’s voice and he swallowed. “I don’t know about getting drunk…but, maybe a drink and dinner would be nice?” Keith finally said.

              “Oooh! We could go to that awesome cheesecake restaurant that you love!” Pidge was suddenly interested in the conversation and put down their book. Hunk’s eyes lit up and he nodded reverently. “They have a big variety of drinks you can choose from, and their rainbow trout – to die for!”

              “Yeah,” Lance nodded with a soft smile on his face. He was happy to see a relaxed expression on Keith’s face. It was a look that the friends had missed, especially since Keith’s return from the military. “Drinks and dinner sound good to me.”

x.V.x

              “Hi, Keith! Are you having fun?” Shiro bit back the large grin that was threatening to twist up his lips. He had just arrived at the restaurant less than five minutes ago, after receiving a call from Keith. Though, he wasn’t sure what Keith had tried to say into the call before a laughing Hunk took the phone and explained that Keith had somehow managed to get drunk.

              Shiro had freaked at first, ready to scold Keith’s friends because for a panicked moment all he could think was that Keith wanted to drink until he forgot the memories of his time in the war. However, he stopped when he heard the fun Keith was having and learning that Keith had gotten drunk because he’d accidentally drank Hunk’s drink which had twice as much alcohol due to his bigger body size.

              “Takashi! Hey guys, have you met Takashi Shirogane?” Keith laughed, face bright red and hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. He pushed himself off of Pidge, who also seemed a bit buzzed and was giggling at Keith. Keith put one hand under his chin to look at Shiro. “This guy’s a hero. Makes me wish he was my dad.”

              This time Shiro did laugh.

              “I’m pretty sure he is your dad, Keith.” Hunk explained while Lance howled with laughter. Thankfully, the group was in a secluded and private part of the restaurant after Lance had explained that Keith was a soldier and drinking for the first time ever.

              Keith’s jaw dropped in genuine awe and shock before his eyes sparkled. “Really?”

              “Yep,” Shiro answered before taking a seat next to Keith. Keith blinked at Shiro before grabbing his hand.

              “Did you guys hear that? This here is my dad. Which means I can brag about how proud I am of him.” Keith said excitedly. Shiro chuckled and allowed Keith to play around with his hands. His ears were slightly pink from Keith’s words, but he managed to keep his expression schooled.

              “That’s so cool buddy.” Lance snickered, snapping another picture of Keith’s dopey grin.

              “Hey, hey Takashi.”

              “You can call me dad.”

              “Dadashi.”

              “Mi maldito dios.”

              “Dadshi, how much can you bench press. Because I – I can bench,” Keith asked loudly, grabbing Shiro’s whole arm. “Wait, what was I saying?” He frowned in that adorable manner that he always did when he was confused and Shiro smiled softly. He gave Keith’s hand a gentle pat.

              “You wanted to say how much you can bench,” Shiro said and Keith’s eyes lit up again.

              “Right! Because I can bench two Dadshi’s. Two.” Keith bragged with a wag of his fingers. Shiro crossed his arms over his chest in amusement.

              “Oh really?”

              “Yeah, you calling me a liar?” Keith said, face scrunching up. He looked more like an angry kitten than an ex-pilot for the military.

              “No, no.” Shiro bit back another laugh. However, the damage was done, and Keith was pushing himself out of his chair.

              “Let’s go then. Right here, right now.” Keith said suddenly. Shiro’s eyes widened in shock and he blinked at his son. “Come on. Right now. I can bench you twice over and beat you.”

              “Are you challenging me to a strength competition?” One of Shiro’s eyebrows raised and his muscles happened to flex when he crossed his arms over his chest. However, this did nothing to deter Keith and instead motivated him to get on the floor in position. All the while, Lance, Pidge and even Hunk were howling in the background.

              Shiro rolled his eyes before doing as Keith said with a warm smile grace his lips. At least he’s having fun.

x.V.x

              “I’m dying. That wasn’t fun. I never wanna do that again and I’m dead.” Keith moaned from where he was laying on the couch. Inside the kitchen, Shiro continued to cook Keith’s breakfast (more like brunch at this point).

              “Make sure you take that Tylenol and drink all of the water,” Shiro said from inside the kitchen. Keith groaned again, burying himself further in the bed, letting all of his pain and misery be known. Thankfully, he took the pills and drank the entire glass of water in one go. Just as it was finished, Shiro came by to set another glass of water down.

              “Keep hydrated, it helps,” Shiro promised, ruffling Keith’s hair gently.

              “Nooooo.”

              “Trust me, it does help,” Shiro said again with a soft chuckle and he walked away back into the kitchen. Keith moaned again but eventually sat up to continue drinking. He smiled to himself, despite his misery at his dad’s help. All morning he’d helped to make sure Keith was comfortable in bed, making sure Keith showered, helping him to stop throwing up and making breakfast.

              “Why couldn’t I be immune to alcohol like you or Uncle Kuro?” Keith sighed, only to grin when Shiro returned with two bowls of a Japanese traditional breakfast. They were foods that Keith hadn’t had in a couple years but his father had used to cook them all the time when he was a child.

              “I never would have guessed you to be a lightweight,” Shiro admitted, digging into his own bowl of food. “But at least you tried it.” He shrugged while Keith messily ate his own bowl. Gently, he leaned over to clean Keith’s face, ignoring the protests from his son.

              The two ate in peaceful silence until it was interrupted by Keith.

              “Hey dad,” He said quietly. Shiro paused in mid-chew to look at Keith. “Thanks for being there for me. Yesterday and today.”

              “Of course, Keith,” Shiro leaned over and tucked Keith against his side as the two continued to eat. “I’ll always take care of you.”

[myso-calledlibraryy]

Eleanor and Park

And here we have again a novel that perfectly depicts all the emotions of high school. I can’t tell if this is a real thing or if I was just constantly overly emotional and stereotypical. Genuinely leaning towards the stereotype because I can't remember the last time I saw a coming of age film that did not prompt “omg that is Maura” from all of my friends. 

Anywhoooo, this week I read the novel Eleanor and Park again for the first time since I was a junior in high school (ew). I seemed to have not changed a bit as all of my emotions were just as I remembered.

Eleanor and Park is written by Rainbow Rowell. Rowell has several other books all which I loved and had a similar coming of age theme. Rowell is from Omaha, where Eleanor and Park takes place. While living in Omaha she worked for a local newspaper as a columnist for many years. In 2011, she released her first novel, which was not YA, and the following year released Eleanor and Park. This novel, along with Fangirl, were critically acclaimed and among many top ten lists. In 2013, Eleanor and Park received scrutiny from parents due to its sensitive content(which we will get to soon) but Rowell replied with the fact that this stuff really happens. I commend Rowell for writing about such hefty topics, we cannot shelter children from the real world. Rowell currently resides in Nebraska with her husband and children and is currently working on writing some comic books. 

So let me begin by again saying that I love this book and I love books about love. I am so grossed out that I just said that. 

Eleanor and Park follows, well, Eleanor and Park on an epic little love story filled with chaos. Both kids struggle with their home life, bullies, and some gender expression, but in different ways that fit together perfectly. The novel is written in third person with different chapters focusing on either one. This makes it very easy to follow along even though you are taken on a bit of a crazy journey.

We start with Eleanor getting on the bus on the first day at her new school. She is at this new school because she is finally back living with her mom, siblings, and her mom’s AWFUL boyfriend Richie. Richie is incredibly abusive and had kicked Eleanor out of the house the year prior. Her mom is so sweet, but acts blind to the violence of Richie. The house they live in is only five rooms, with one of them being the fake room which is the bathroom in the kitchen separated by a sheet. Obviously the family is very poor and this is a struggle for Eleanor because all of the kids make fun of her. 

On top of having an awful home life, Eleanor is just so incredibly awkward. She is very tall and overall just kind of big, her bright red curly hair doesn’t help either. Eleanor also wears a lot of masculine clothes, which is how she chooses to express herself and the source of a lot of bullying. She wants to just blend in at her new school but the second she steps on that bus she becomes the target of bullying. 

When Eleanor is URGENTLY searching for a seat on the bus, the only available spot is next to Park. 

Park is half Korean, quite the rarity in Omaha, and this makes him the subject of a lot of racism and microaggressions. The opening scenes depict him sitting on the bus while Tina and Steve (gross nasty bullies I don’t care what nice things they do, they are gross and nasty) are questioning him about kung fu. Park has a much better home life than Eleanor with two very loving parents, but him and his father don’t always see eye to eye. Park puts a lot of pressure on himself to be the perfect man for his dad, but Park just always feels inadequate in this. This turns out to be something Eleanor really helps with and brings them closer together. 

How freaking perfect for a love story to start with two misfits finding each other on the bus. 

The two sit next to each other for quite some time and no one says ~anything~. These two little dorks just sit there in silence, but both are very happy to be sitting next to someone without admitting it. Park is happy to have a reason not to talk to the bullies and Eleanor is just happy not to be alone. 

Eleanor and Park begin to grow a silent bond. Eleanor reads Parks comic books over his shoulder and he begins to notice. She notices he notices when he waits to start his new comic book Watchmen (watch this show on HBO right now). When they get to her house, Park gives Eleanor the comic book to take with her and she reads it again and again that night. 

This where you really start to push for the couple. I was literally SHOUTING at the pages. I wanted Park to just like run up and kiss her. And then I would be like NO Eleanor be the strong woman we all know you are and make that move. But we have all been in high school and know it is most definitely not that easy. 

After exchanging comic books, Park finally has to talk to Eleanor. He notices the title of a Smiths song on her textbook and asks if she likes the Smiths. AND SHE HAS THE AUDACITY TO SAY NO AND THEN NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE. If she was my friend I would’ve smacked her 100%. Eleanor stop being so freaking awkward and talk to the boy!!!! But yes of course I found it incredibly sweet how nervous he made her, I hate myself ugh. 

Then comes one of the best parts. Park makes the move of all moves. The mac daddy of all gestures. This boy goes on home and makes Eleanor a mix tape. So corny like gag, but literally this is what we want. If a boy makes you a mix you marry him. End of discussion. 

“Then he slid the silk and his fingers into her open palm. And Eleanor disintegrated.”

“Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive.”

LIKE COME ON. I am such a dramatic baby but I promise you I cried at this. They are in LOVE. The way Rainbow Rowell writes this is just so good. I remember when the first real boy I had a crush on held my hand I talked about it for WEEKS. It is such a simple way to show affection but when you’re young it feels so special. Imagining this scene is so perfect and fills you with so much hope as to what is to come for the two little lovebirds. 

Now is when the story takes a bit of a turn for me. One night when talking on the phone, Park tells Eleanor that he loves her. The two begin to admit to each other that they need each other. As the relationship progresses it does kind of seem like they are a little too addicted to each other. Park is protecting Eleanor from the bullies at school and Eleanor starts to protect Park from his parents. They encourage one another in everything they want to do and help each other express themselves. I do wish this was something they were able to do on their own by each other’s side, but they seemed to really NEED each other which is a little problematic. Needing a significant other is definitely not something we should glorify to the young girl population this novel is geared towards. 

This qualm is not enough to ruin my love of the story though so we will move forward. 

As things at home get worse between Richie and Eleanor after she calls the cops on him one night, her relationship with Park is growing more and more. Eleanor is finally able to open up to Park about her family and it makes the two more comfortable with each other. 

On Christmas, Park’s mother breaks down about how she feels badly about the way she was treating Eleanor. She saw a lot of herself in Eleanor and almost resented her for it. After this, Park is more comfortable having Eleanor at the house and they spend the entire Christmas break there, 

At one point, towards the end of the break, we see Eleanor and Park both really tackle their gender expression. Park’s mom wants to give Eleanor a little makeover so she shows her how to apply eye liner using Park as a model. Both Eleanor and Park like the way it looks on him but his mother and father are not happy. Park is admitting he likes the way Eleanor dresses in boy clothes and she likes him in makeup. Neither of them care that this isn’t the norm, they know it makes themselves happy and now this is all they care about. The eye liner causes issues for Park with his dad but they are eventually able to resolve this.

This part of the book is SO important. Not only is it handled in a light way but it does leave an impression on the reader. When I read the novel the first time as a 16 year old, I remember loving how open they could be with each other. Now that I am older I am able to see the real gender expression that is there, but it still had the same effect. I think this is super important because it allows the reader to understand this situation in whatever way they can. While now, gender is much more widely talked about, in my high school this is something that never would’ve been talked about. When I read Eleanor and Park at that time I just thought they were super cool and I thought well that’s what love is about we have to support our significant other. Now I am able to see it for the much more serious thing that it is, but I still see the same message. 

Love people for their character and how they make you feel, not how they look or based off of what other people say. 

Shortly after this, Richie becomes even worse than we can imagine. Eleanor had been receiving really nasty notes in her textbooks and she finds out Richie had been leaving them. Now Eleanor knows how dangerous he is and she knows she has to run away. With the help of Park and surprisingly Tina and Steve the big bullies, Eleanor is able to escape to her uncle’s house.

Park drives her there and the two can’t let each other go when they arrive in Minnesota. They know they have to leave each other because it is what’s best for Eleanor but it is truly heartbreaking. 

Neither of them have ever felt so connected to anyone in their lives and now they have to say goodbye???? I cried for like four hours. It just felt all too real. Like not even kind of the same but I literally felt like I was leaving my high school boyfriend to go to college all over again. And like I thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen to me at 18. UGH I literally could cry again writing this. Ok lmao let’s not dwell on my lovely high school experience. 

Park goes back to Omaha and he starts to send Eleanor packages and letters. He constantly drives by her house just because he can’t stop thinking about her. And he never takes the bus again. 

Eleanor is literally me and cannot seem to find the will to confront her emotions and never opens anything Park sends her. She tells the girls at her new school she has never kissed a boy and she tries to leave the life with Park behind her. BUT do not get this twisted!!!!! This is because she loves him so much it hurts her. For girls like me and Eleanor with emotions too complex to even begin to understand sometimes it feels better to pretend they never existed. I know all too well though that this always makes it hurt more in the end. EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE IS YOUR FRIEND ELEANOR WE GOTTA USE IT!!!!!

I was then hit with an ending that ripped my heart out of my chest. Eleanor writes Park a letter finally. This letter has three words. Three words that could mean so much. One thing Eleanor was never able to do was tell Park she loved him. She was too afraid but she definitely felt it. And in that moment I know she was able to finally tell Park that. The two had the love story of a lifetime and I feel confident at the end of the book that they would end up together again.

SO YEA another book I LOVE. I find the emotions of high school just overly relatable, and maybe even a little refreshing? Eleanor and Park throws you back to a time in life with so much uncertainty. In high school we ask ourselves so many questions constantly and are faced with a lot of idk ~shit~. Both Eleanor and Park struggle with expressing their gender but together they grow to just be happy with who they are even if it doesn’t fit the mold. Rowell tackles domestic violence and abuse which is something very real that happens every day and we cannot hide that from young people. Eleanor and Park struggle with emoting as they both seem to have a lot of pent up emotions (therapy is your friend someone needed to tell them that). 

All in all GREAT. 

Maybe next week I will finally read a book that doesn't make me cry!

[jamnstories]

Sanha- Elemental Powers AU

Word Count: 1,600

I’ve had a habit for corny lines at the end of the past few story lines >.< oops

Prologue/ Jin Jin/ MJ/ Eunwoo/ Rocky/ Moonbin/ Sanha/ Epilogue

y/n- snow Sanha- fire

Can two opposites really attract?  Fun at the Fair... SANHA YOUR FIRE! BE CAREFUL!

“Mmmmm the person I choose is….” -Ding Dong- “Oh. That must be the food we ordered. I’ll get the tip. Can you open the door y/n?” You nodded as she went to her room. You went up to the door, phone still in hand with Yoon Fire’s profile opened up. As soon as you saw the tall boy in front of you- you did a double take between him and the phone. He still didn't notice as he looked at the receipt and checked the order.

“y/n what are you doing? Get the- huh?” She gasp and the two of you just looked at him. Finally, he looked up as he placed the bags on the ground and looked confused. why would someone put the food on the ground idk but i didn't want him to drop it lol He then saw the phone in your hand, and gasped as he covered his mouth. “Your snowflake!” He pointed at you and started jumping. “This must be fate!” He beamed and took a hold of your hand.

“I'm Yoon Sanha! But you can call me Sanha!... Just you...” He looked at your friend as he whispered pretty loud whisper the last line to you. Still in shock you gave an apprehensive smile “I’m y/l/n y/n. You can call me y/n then...” He smiled at you sweetly. He looked so young and like a child- all you wanted to do was protect him. Sensing she was unwanted by Sanha of course your friend gave him the tip, picked up the food and went into the kitchen.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He smiled innocently. You nodded. “Will you go with me tomorrow? There’s a fair in town and I’ve been wanting to go but my hyungs don’t want to go with me anymore. Jin Jin hyung says I’m too old to be this excited about fairs now. Plus... I’d think I’d rather go with you.” You blushed and nodded. He giggled, “You’re so cute! Not as cute as me though... Mmmm no! You are cuter than me!” He said as he got closer to you making you blush more. 

Your faces were so close you thought he was about to kiss you. but nope cuz he's still an innocent child He jumped back up and gave you a bright smile. “I’ll pick you up at ten!” He began to run away while waving back at you. “So~ I guess you chose him then?” Your friend gave you a nudge with a playful look on her face. You made a snow cloud above her. “Y/N! I was kidding! I’ll help you pick an outfit for tomorrow! Just stop it!” You sighed as you walked away to your room and began to pick your outfit for tomorrow- not knowing what to expect from the bright and cute boy.

Meanwhile: “YOON SANHA! Why does our stove fire keep getting stronger!” “User error~” He joked as he stuck out his tongue. Suddenly he felt a shock from his hyung and he ran away to his room. To be honest, his heart was on fire after seeing you. He drifted off to sleep as he thought about ways to make tomorrow special. “Ah! HYUNG! A BUG!” “It’s just a dust bunny Sanha...” “Oh..”

You were all ready and nervous. It was almost ten am and you were sitting on the couch waited. “y/n, I know your nervous but you’re gonna turn into ice at this rate.” “Ah. Sorry... His power is fire...” “And?” “Mine. Is snow...” “So?” “Aren't they total opposites????” You accidentally yelled at her. “Just cuz his powers are the opposite of your’s doesn’t mean the two of you would be entirely opposite people. I mean he seemed really sweet and totally your type last night... Plus~ He can melt your snow for you so we don’t constantly have a bathroom filled with snow~” She dodged the snowball you threw at her and the doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell” You glared at her.

“Hi y/n!” Sanha stood at the door waving excitedly at you. “Hi Sanha! Bye bestie~... Oh and by the way~ You have a gift in your room! Run Sanha!” You grabbed his hand and ran from the door barely hearing your best friend yelling at you to stop the snow storm in her room.

Panting and laughing, the two of you slowed your pace. “What was that?” Sanha asked curiously. “Oh... She was messing with me before you got there so... I started a blizzard in her room...” You blushed realizing how embarrassing and childish it was but Sanha laughed. “Wow! I wish I could do that!... In stead I only burn things down...” Suddenly you remembered what his profile said “almost set my house on fire as a kid.” “I think there’s beauty in fire. Plus, I can only create. I can never melt my own snow or make it disappear.” His face suddenly lit up, “Really?? I can melt it for you then!” You smiled and noticed steam rising. You looked down, Sanha following your gaze, and noticed it the steam coming from your hands that were still intertwined.

Simultaneously you both spoke, “Ah sorry. my body gets [colder/hotter] when I’m nervous.” You made eye contact and both blushed. “Maybe it is ok to be opposites.” you thought. The two of you continued to walk hand in hand to the fair.

Finally at the fair, the two of you played various games at the booth. Every time Sanha lost he would instantly yell in disappointment, pout and suggest he could beat you at the next game. As you passed by a game booth with a prize, you noticed a cute stuffed toy these are of good quality not those really cheap ones and Sanha noticed. “y/n, do you want that? I’ll win it for you!” He immediately payed the worker and picked up the toy gun. His stance was funny but he looked so serious that it made him cute.

He had five tries to knock down the duck cut-out. First one: missed to the left. Second: way too high. Third: this time too low. Four: he sneezed and accidentally shot straight up. He immediately looked around to see if anyone noticed and turned red when he saw you laughing. You shot up your pointer finger to remind him he only had one shot left. He took his stance again and shot. -Ping Ping Ping- The buzzer went off and the worker congratulated him. He knocked it down perfectly earning him the stuffed toy you wanted. “See! I told you I could win it for you!”

You blushed “Thank you.” He smiled his innocent smile. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and his face turned to shock. You laughed as you grabbed his hand and ran off to go on the rides.

It was already late and the sky had turned dark. The two of you walked home but he led you to an open space at the edge of town next to the river. if you read Moonbin and Rocky’s story lines its the same place “What are we doing here Sanha?” He motioned for you to sit on the grass. “I was thinking about and I decided I wanted to show you how pretty my fire can be...” He stood in the center of a giant circle where no grass was growing.

He bowed and lit up flames in the palm of his hands. He began to juggle them slowly adding more and more. Every time he added a new one it was a slightly different color and slowly it became a gradient of yellow, orange, red, blue, and white. Back and forth between his hands was a beautiful rainbow of fire. Suddenly they flew up and created a circle above him. He began to add flames to the center of the circle. Once he was done, the circle of flames turned and moved down to face you. It wasn’t a circle anymore but a red and orange heart with blue flames making a snowflake in the middle.

He split the flames in half making them disperse just barely within the circle’s limits. He began to walk towards you. With every step he took, the circle of fire went down. Scared the fire would hit the grass- you got up and shouted, “Sanha! Your fire! Be careful!” But it was too late. He stood in front of you and grabbed both of your hands and said “I love you” with his innocent smile. The fire hit the ground just as he said it.

Instead of the grass going up in flames, the fire followed a straight line and suddenly. -BOOM BOOM BOOM- Fireworks began to go off above the river in front of you leaving your mouth agape. “It’s so pretty!” You looked back at him. “But not as pretty as you.” He grinned. You continued to watch the fireworks with him as you both lay down on the grass.

The next day (through text): “y/n! My hyungs keep getting mad at me that I don’t want to introduce you to them :(” “lol what did you tell them?” “I told them they have to get taller than be before they can meet you and then they started beating me up :((” “lol of course they can't get taller than you Yoon Sanha! Tell them let’s all go out tomorrow :)” “ugh~ fine~ but you owe me fries” “haha! yes yes” To be continued in epilogue…

[prince-toffee]

Five Minutes

A sacrifice fic just to prepare for the inevitable.

(Sorry if there’s any grammar errors, I don’t care, I’m tired, ok I do care, consider this a first draft, I’ll fix it if something’s up.)

The doors locked. They did it. They won. The door ‘s access panel changed it’s green light to a red. The display on the panel read ‘Warning, temperature rising to dangerous levels. Clones present in WatchPoint Bay Q6.’ “Yeah, no shit.” Modulok grumbled to himself, and partially to the panel, as he sat down on the walkway next to his brothers.

“Sooooo, what- what’s happenin’? Is it working?” Vultak asked swallowing fear down his throat as he stuttered on the ‘what’. It did work, the Princesses managed to destabilise the core of the capital warship, The Velvet Glove. The She-Ra, Princess of Power, ploughed her mystical sword into the power core, which resulted in the station’s propulsion systems going offline and set the warship on a collision course with Etheria’s most populated centre, BrightMoon.

“Yeah, it worked alright.” Modulok scratched his two heads with his two left hands, “I just... I calculate that we’ve got about five minutes before either the ship burns up ooooor the all-mighty, all-powerful relic sword explodes and tears our atoms apart and flings them across the ten dimensions... maybe both, probably both.” Modulok shrugged his shoulders with a lifeless chuckle, which didn’t really comfort the perched Vultak on the walkway railing. Then again, what would possibly lighten the mood in that moment.

Hordak and Princess Entrapta managed to angle the station in a manner that it’d just nearly miss the planet, burn up in the atmosphere and use the momentum of the gravity to sling shot it into a surrounding moon. The space station was mentally linked to Horde Prime, everything was operated and controlled with his consciousness. With Prime dead, it put them into a difficult circumstance. Someone had to stay behind to make sure the ship stayed on course, someone mentally compatible with the Horde systems. Hordak was the logical choice, actually he was the only choice. He was the only High General present, meaning only he comprehended and was familiar with the warship systems. Hordak thought it was funny, She-Ra did finally kill him. A destiny fulfilled.

“Five minutes to live. That’s not a lot...” Mosquitor spoke up, giving off a an exhausted sigh. All six clones present in the room fell into tense and anxious silence. Fear and sadness blocked their throats, they weren’t used to talking, with their vocal cords, it was forbidden. Clones were only allowed to communicate telepathically and only communicate about their duties and objectives. Small talk wasn’t in the Horde dictionary. Ironically the only places where clones were able to talk and showcase their individualism was on the frontlines.

“Okay, so five minutes left of life... any last words?” Modulok asked shimming his rear to find a comfortable position to sit on the hard, cold walkway. A grated panelled pathway suspended at the centre of a deep chamber above a transparent force shield at the bottom. Which frames a view of heat and fire outside, melting and charring the metal outer casings of the ship.

“What’s there to talk about?” Despara quirked her brow at her brother’s question.

“Well, we’re clones, we don’t get this lucky. We’ve got five minutes to make up for all the decades of silence.” Modulok articulated.

To guide the warship most effectively Hordak had to observe the trajectory from a vantage point, that was where their paths diverged. Princess Entrapta protested, she held his hands in her own, massaged his knuckles with her thumbs. She raised herself up on her hair to face him eye to eye. She even gave him her signature smile, the one that melted his heart in a second. She had that look of possibility in her glistening crimson eyes, a spark of wonder and wanting that looked into multiple futures, hundreds of possibilities, a look that showed Hordak what he had to fight for, a world where that smile, those eyes and that laugh and that brilliant mind exist. A perfect world. He chose to make it, even if it was without him in it. He decided to do something his brother could never. A final gift to Entrapta, for all the trouble and confusion he caused her.

He gave her a kiss on her gloved hand, befitting for royalty, he gave her the best smile he could, and for the last time, he left her. Princess Entrapta would go on to cry for many days to come, but it was for the best. The greater good.

“Alright. I’m just gonna say it, food, not a fan. Too mushy. Has to go through your entire digestive system, which I didn’t even know existed until a few cycles back, and it has to come out th-” Modulok was cut off by Hordak, who previously was completely silent.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” He didn’t even look at them as he spoke, face down, staring at a small purple crystal in his hand, which he used to fugit with to ease his nerves.

“What are you talking about? We stay together. We’re defects.” Despara states to Hordak almost offended, all of them were through a lot, she felt offended that Hordak thought they’d abandon him now.

“We fought through war. We hold-ass across the universe. And we killed our god! Together!... Well, technically the blonde Valkyrie lady killed Prime, but still it’s the thought that counts.” Vultak shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. Hordak rubbed circles on the purple crystal, looking down on it, his face reflected in it’s cracked surface. L-U-V-D. That’s what was etched on it. A fact. A reminder of her compassion. A wake up call. And he did wake up, from a dream world he believed all his life. A life of lies. From a hazy of toxic green to a reality of flaming red.

“I am your general. I stood at our brother’s side, you were mere soldiers, pawns. I deserve this pain, not you. You could’ve- you should have had normal lives.”

Mosquitor chuckled to himself, “Normal isn’t exactly in our dictionary.” The towering brute countered as he cradled the young hybrid in his arms, keeping Zed near his chest. As if it would make any difference when the fire broke through. “Also we’re not the kind of people the Etherians seem to want to deal with.” The statement made a wicked smile form on Hordak’s face. He enjoyed being in charge, being the one with the carrot on the stick. Having something of his own, something to his own name. They will always remember his name. Never forget. No one will ever forget.

“Then what do you think happens to our brothers? You think the Princesses kept their side of the bargain? You think their all off the ship, that they evacuated them?” Despara asked most likely imagining the worst, a possibility that there were some other poor clones still on board. That they were sacrificing lives that weren’t there own.

To quiet their minds, Hordak tiredly claimed, “No. They kept the promise. They’re honest people.” Hordak added that they had to, they were just like that, it was in their nature. Hordak knew their brothers were fine. BrightMoon had no court to try them, no holding cells and wouldn’t have enough to hold all of them for decades to come. And hopefully if Entrapta didn’t decide to hate him, she’d help them all and embrace them in her warmth. Dryl hadn’t had citizens for a decade or two, he was sure the clones wouldn’t be much of a downgrade. Add some life to the ghost town, so she doesn’t feel alone anymore.

“Yeah, well whatever they’re up to, it can’t be as bad as the predicament we’re in, heh.” Vultak flapped his winged arm around, a sharp gasp of pain escaped him as he moved his right around. No wonder either, it was bent forward, from the fight with Prime, literal minutes ago. It felt so victorious for just a moment, but life has a fun way of turning tables around.

“Plus, the Princesses, totally lame, right?” Modulok rolled his eyes as he attempted to stand up to get over to V and help his brother’s arm. But Vultak raised his left hand in protest, there was no need. It was going to be over soon. Modulok sat back down in defeat, amusement draining from his two faces. What good was a medic that couldn’t fix his fellow soldiers.

It was Mosquitor’s turn to brighten the situation, “Hah, yeah I bet they’re all clawing their ears out by now. Hehe, remember what those colour coded pansies moaned about all the time? Friendship? And rainbows? What a mucha losers, eh? Hehe... heh.”

“I remember.” Hordak stated. Never again. Never forget.

“Yea, losers.” Despara nodded.

“Losers.” Modulok and Vultak said at the same time.

“...Hmmmhehehahah- HA!” Modulok covered his face to hide his ugly laughter, forgetting about the other one expressing the same emotion.

“Mode, what the hell now?” Vultak asked, a smirk creeping up on him.

“Hehehehahahahhhh, ahhhhh man, w-heh-which one was the one that tried to hug Zed, heheheh and- and got burned. Oh lord. Oh Great Darkness. That face was priceless. HhhhhhhhHAHAHA!” The infectious mirth managed to wriggle out a small spasm out of Zed. His shoulders moving up and down, his nasal cavity wrinkling up in that cute way. Of course the young Zed contributed no sound of amusement as he was mute.

Despara shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. They all look the same to me.” The room shook violently, the pipes above rattled and metal panels fell off the walls and fell down through the force field below. Hordak’s realisation dawned on him, that he would be departing the mortal realm. Even thought there was an inferno forming beneath him, just outside that thin force field, even though he was surrounded by his clone brethren, his mind couldn’t help but wonder off to the thought of a certain Scientist Princess. His mind run wild with quite corny and laughable poetry, everything he wished he said to Entrapta. But didn’t.

He didn’t need her to devote her entire life to him. No. That’d be caging her. She deserved to be free, free to bend the universe to her will and bow before her beautiful intellect. He didn’t need her to lay her lips on him, she didn’t need to touch him. All he needed was just to see her smile, at him. Just for her to be with him, because that smile just for a moment saves him, just for a moment she makes him forget the endless pain he endured every day of his life. And every smile felt like an eternity of bliss. And so with just a look that woman could transport him into a perfect world, where he could live an eternity-long life.

But he didn’t say any of that to her. Hordak knew Entrapta wasn’t interested in long speechs, she had a short attention span, she was a woman of actions not words. That’s why before all this all Hordak gave Catra was a short note to give to Entrapta. He had her promise that she’d apologise to Entrapta, for all that she had done. Unfortunately, he made her apologise for the two of them. The note read ‘I’m sorry, and thank you. - Your ever loyal knight, Hordikins. Farewell My Queen.’ He could have gone on how there were no words in any dialect across the universe that could express how she made him feel, or that if she only asked he would have gifted her the universe. The note said everything it made to.

“Kinda sucks, all this. I only came on sentient a few hours ago.” Despara stated playing with her hair. The statement of dry humour pulled Hordak back from his day dream. “But I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet all of you. And... and be myself, even if it was short lived.” Despara finished. The words brought smiles to her fellow brothers, the past few Horde cycles were the craziest experiences of their lives, because they were experiencing life itself for the first time. They decided where their paths led. Especially Despara. She wasn’t always... herself. What was going to become Despara was clone DSP-772,411, whom was the detention guard overseeing Catra’s cell. ‘411 had never met an other lifeform other than clones. Dess was a servant clone. Never stepped outside the perimeter of The Velvet Glove. Her insight on the lay out of the ship came in useful to the defects in their infiltration to kill Prime. ‘411 always felt like they weren’t serving their cause properly, along side their dying brothers on the frontlines. Though not on the battlefield she risked her life every day. Prime had a tendency for violent mood swings. A dinner party for Prime’s guests could be more traumatising and devastative to a clones health than the trenches. Many clone have begged to be sent to the frontlines to escape the unspeakable horrors which occurred within the walls of the warship.

‘411 was immediately drawn to the captive Magicat. Catra spilled her heart, cried and whimpered, talked about an old flame of her’s, about how she hurt people close to her, about how the Princesses were “full of it” as she put it. And ‘411 listened to all of it. And at the end, when Catra’s tears dried up and she quieted down, all ‘411 could ask was, what a ‘she’ was. It must’ve shocked Catra, eyes wide in confusion and mouth drooping low in surprise. Hordak was there when she did, but he could’ve imagined the cat’s reaction, mostly because his first Force-Captains had the same reaction when he first asked that same question in his first years on Etheria. Captain Octavia had quite an interesting evening that day. He made her swear an oath of silence, to never speak of that embarrassing encounter.

Clones had no concept of sex or gender, things just were the way they were. As Prime intended them to be, perfect. The bodies and missions given to them by Prime were unquestionable. And it never was questioned, because none knew what other possibilities were out there. The alien armies of the Horde encountered were all different and unique, but there was no time or reason to study them. It wasn’t an objective. Prime did not care. Her brothers may have not fully understood, what Despara meant when she said she was always “this” deep down, but none argued, none protested against their new sister. She was a clone, a defect, one of them. She was a new experience. One of a kind. And as Vultak put it ever so elegantly, “Cool. I never had a sister before.”

It was ultimately her who let Catra out and helped her escape back to the Alliance. Hopefully she got that kiss she so desperately needed. Hordak met ‘411 only once before being sent off back to the frontlines, his return and the assault on the Velvet Glove, and briefly at that, on his way with a breakfast tray to Queen Glimmer’s guest room.

“Hey, hey, stop with that sappy stuff.” Mosquitor waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. Moe, as his brothers called him, much like most clones including Hordak, wished to at all times seem tough. Poor MSQ-999,332 had it worse than most. He hide his defection for much longer than Hordak. The illness became so bad that eventually he could no longer use his own legs, his waist and legs lost all near all muscle mass. And so ‘332 became paralysed. He was just slowing down his platoon down, so his lower body was amputated. Of course the brother that rescued and brought Moe on board was executed for the crime of ‘Conferring with Inappropriate Machinery’. And Prime personally threw Moe out the airlock back down to the battlefield. ‘332 spent most of his days afterwards, crawling across mudded trenches. Luckily, Moe met on that some battlefield, MUD-111,117, or Modulok.

Nothing, but hatred and vengeance flew through his veins, it did for all of us. Mode managed to construct a life support system, for Moe, a walking hospital bed. Many parallels could’ve been made between it and Hordak’s own First Ones suit, created by Entrapta. Moe’s unit was twice the size of Hordak, it made him tower over even Prime, but the biggest difference was, Hordak’s suit was near indestructible, Moe on the other hand even if he had intimidation on his side the armour was more for life support than anything. Mosquitor faired better from a distance, ‘332 was an amazing snipper. The room shook more, sparks fling from wiring in the wall, the walkway holding them vibrated and shuttered. Moe took hold of Zed in his large arms, readying for the end.

The sight made Hordak thankful that Entrapta took Imp and got him to safety. The Lord of the Horde didn’t think he could’ve handled having to be forced to watch he’s own creation die... his little spy. He was safe, back on Etheria, in a loving home with a loving overseer. He only hoped that she’d teach Imp her ways, and hoped that one day Imp would grow into an intelligent man worthy enough to continue her legacy of brilliance.

Zed was the youngest of all the clones, although technically the creature wasn’t even a clone, but rather a hybrid. A prototype of the splicing initiative. A combination of Prime’s DNA and an unknown gene pool. The kid was an attempt at a creation of super soldiers, but failed. Poor kid always wanted to meet that other half of him. That other person that aided in bringing him into the world. This awful, awful world. Sadly, he never will, but he was the first to follow Hordak into the chamber. The boy did say back on the frontlines, that he’d jump into fire after him. And it was true. And to be more accurate, he didn’t say, he signed. All the defects learned the universal sign language. Zed might’ve been silent, but his voice wasn’t unheard.

He’s fate should have been a better one. He didn’t deserve this, he had a full life in front of him. Hordak never knew what drew Zed to him, why he asked so many questions, why he snuck out at night to see  him in the trenches. When Prime sent Hordak back to the frontlines, after his torturous reconditioning, he lost hope, but when he stepped out, or rather more accurately, when he was thrown out the troop dropship. Face first in a muddy trench dozens of defects thrown down with him. When he looked up from the dirt and filth, a slither of hope ignited in his belly, as a hand extended to him. Wonder in the boy’s eyes. He overheard Hordak’s mention of being trapped on other worlds.

”Hey, V you’re staring into the ceiling buddy. Talk to us.” Modulok snapped his fingers at his winged brother. Vultak didn’t turn to face him, mesmerised by the ceiling falling apart. V’s facial expression showcased a hypnotised look. As a combat aerial unit he always did look into the skies. But it probably had to do something with the impending doom below. ‘Don’t look down.’ Hordak remembered was the advise Vultak gave him when they leaped out onto the Velvet Glove from the dropship they stole, which exploded seconds later in the void of space as it filled with laser fire. VLT-441,441 was a paratrooper in the Horde military, until of course his defect began to show. He was always used to jumping into certain death, fearless in any mission. Vultak didn’t fear anything physical, nothing in the universe made him back down. But now, at the end he looked frightened, he couldn’t look down, do no more leaps of faith, for faith, he lost.

It’s true V feared nothing physical, because he had faith. He was a man of god. A believer. But what happens to a man when your god turns his back on you? Horde Prime knew defection was inevitable for many clones. No machine was perfect, especially no war machine. So Horde Prime infused prophecies and implanted messages into all clone subconscious, so that when defection occurs, all clones are compelled to return to him. Easier than hunting them down, easier to cover up the disgrace of his failures. Easier to hide his mistakes, he couldn’t afford to let those space fairing races above him mapping his progress to know about things like that. Couldn’t afford to let those higher than him know he was capable of mistakes. Perfection was expected of him. Those others above him, he tried to impress them, to have them take him in, show him enlightenment. He, all he wanted to do, was show he was worth their celestial time, he was worth something.

And now he’s nothing. He is now dead. Hordak found that he began to enjoy poetry and it’s irony more and more, in a twisted sort of way. Truly clones.

“Do you... Do you think there’s something out there for us? Up there, where ever?” The questions were deafening, everyone hoped Vultak wouldn’t have gone existential on them. But Vultak was the biggest patriot of them all, even surpassing Hordak’s obsession with their brother. And in turn he was the one most hurt by Prime’s betrayal. He was no god, no grand being, just a liar. Hundreds of thousands murdered... for him, because they believed their big brother. Hundreds of thousands, they murdered, for a lie.

“Do you think any of it was true? Do you think he believed any of it? Or was it ALL a lie?” Hordak answered V’s question in his mind, since never before was it a private place: Lie. “The Perfect World. The Grey Mound? The Hold Peck? The Great Darkness?” V grit his teeth, another wave of pain from his broken arm.

“Worried about being sent to the bad place, V?” Modulok asked, weak smile wearing.

“I’m just wondering. What’s waiting in the beyond for a guy like me. It can’t be anything good... if there even is anything up there.” Modulok decided to stand up and close the distance between him and his distraught brother. He leaned against the railing on which Vultak perched himself.

Mode gently touched V’s shoulder, it made sure V looked at him when he spoke. “I promise you, where ever you wake up on the other side, I’ll be there with you. And I’ll always fix you up after you jump into certain doom. Brother, you have my word.” It was true, the two were inseparable. Threw pure change the two met on the frontlines. While V had his head in the clouds, Mode grounded him, pulled him down to his level. Mode was a realist. He was bad at his bed side manner, he never lied to himself or his patients. He was a field medic, he saw things no one should, endured horrors unimaginable to the innocent. Modulok was the oldest to them, he was through a lot, fighting from world to world longer than any of them in Prime’s name. Over the many decades the spark of pride dulled, Mode found himself lost, fighting across the stars for a cause he no longer believed in.

Mode’s was haunting, even to other defects, whom experienced hardships and injustice. Modulok’s defection was the most dire Hordak ever seen, MUD-111,117 developed a second head, and two left arms. His genome could have been compaired to a computer glitch, untreated it just got worse. It was a miracle that Mode managed to make it to such an old age. Many species across the universe considered age to be a weakness, a disadvantage, but ‘117 always argued that with age came experience, and with experience came knowledge, which in turn led to wisdom. It was Mode who constructed Moe’s suit, led Dess’s surgery, gave V his wings and taught Zed sign language. A true veteran. He had been through it all.

But what Mode never helped Hordak with anything, ‘ 117 was a medic, he was compelled to fix others. But when Hordak first arrived at the fronts of Primus Minor, he isolated himself from everyone else, kept to himself. Hordak treated his own wounds, he worked on his armour alone. When he took the suit off, he was forced to walk on his own, no armour support system. And so he locked himself in an unused compartment of the trenches and over the course of six months, he learned how to walk. Baby steps to an adult man, who never had a childhood. Mode gathered from all of that, that Hordak was a loner. A solo act. Didn’t do well with people.

There came a day where Mode pulled Hordak off to the side and asked him why he worked through all the baggage alone? Why didn’t he ask for aid? Why did he ignore them? Hordak apologised that it seemed like he was avoiding them. And what Hordak said back in response stayed with the medic ‘til the end of his life.

“Mode... If there is good and evil.

And good is better than evil.

God has to be good... Right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, are we good? Are we... like him?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s no such thing as good or evil.

But it’d be nice... to be good.”

“So, anybody got any idea how much time we’ve got left?” Despara asked looking at Modulok. Who just struggled in return, he didn’t exactly have a timer, he simply estimated the time remaining. “So that’s a no? We don’t kno- We can just blow up at any second?... Cool.” Dess combed her hair with her fingers to calm her nerves.

“You really think a timer would settle your nerves?” Moe asked unconvinced.

“I suppose not.” Dess admitted.

“I could’ve been with her.” Hordak spoke up suddenly in the middle of the conversation, honestly he was so quiet Despara forgot he was there, even though he was seated right next to her.

“What’d ya mean?”

“I could’ve saved myself... the First Ones crystal, it’s a server. To help me sync up with her new armour, Entrapta recorded my brain waves on the crystal. My memories, my thoughts, my personality, all of it... I could have given it to her when I last saw her.

But I didn’t.

I lied.

I left her.”

All five siblings turned their heads side to side take turns looking at each other and then back at Hordak. His face unmoved. Looking at the purple crystal. Zed stood up and broke free of Moe’s embrace. The young one stepped up to him. Hordak’s blood red eyes drifted up to the boy’s hands. He signed.

‘Why?’

“...Because it wouldn’t be me. Not me. A clone of me.”

The clones fell silent. Head bowing down. No more needed to be said. Every aspect of their lives had been thrown into question, into uncertainty. When the assault on The Velvet Glove happened, Hordak was leading the charge. Prime captured him and tortured him, he hurt him in front of Entrapta. He fell to his knees and crawled back to Prime, like he always did. But this time it was different, he stood up, he walked to him. Like a man, not a dog. Prime insulted and demeaned him. Prime claimed that Hordak wasn’t wasn’t a person. Clones were nothing, mere shadows of his greatness. The clones were him, just dirtier, unclean. A lesser version of what he was.

This was their stance against that. Showing that their lives meant something. That they were worth something. They were worth the world, for that was what they were saving. The scale balanced out.

The force field beneath them gave off a thunderous sound, a final warning. The bay shook one more time, the artificial gravity became disabled and the room began to tilt and shift. The metal walls crumbled like paper. The walkway began to swing and crack. Mode took V’s unbroken hand into his own. Moe embraced Zed in his arms one last time. Dess wrapped her arm around Hordak’s shoulder, and he inturn pressed his head against hers.

Modulok gave his last words in the form of a question, “...Do... Do you think... Could’ve we done something, could’ve we ended up with a happy ending, all of us? Could’ve we been good? Would it have make any difference?”

Hordak spent his last moments thinking, he didn’t realise he was thinking out loud, “Good? I think there’s no such thing as good?...

But it was nice...”

What ever this was. What it meant. What it was worth.

The force field imploded, gave in. The fire broke through. The Velvet Glove burned up in the atmosphere. And the clones were no more. And on that day all of Etheria cheered, and celebrated. For the evil was vanquished.

Ding-dong! The witches are dead.

[prince-toffee]

Five Minutes

A sacrifice fic just to prepare for the inevitable.

(Sorry if there’s any grammar errors, I don’t care, I’m tired, ok I do care, consider this a first draft, I’ll fix it if something’s up.)

The doors locked. They did it. They won. The door ‘s access panel changed it’s green light to a red. The display on the panel read ‘Warning, temperature rising to dangerous levels. Clones present in WatchPoint Bay Q6.’ “Yeah, no shit.” Modulok grumbled to himself, and partially to the panel, as he sat down on the walkway next to his brothers.

“Sooooo, what- what’s happenin’? Is it working?” Vultak asked swallowing fear down his throat as he stuttered on the ‘what’. It did work, the Princesses managed to destabilise the core of the capital warship, The Velvet Glove. The She-Ra, Princess of Power, ploughed her mystical sword into the power core, which resulted in the station’s propulsion systems going offline and set the warship on a collision course with Etheria’s most populated centre, BrightMoon.

“Yeah, it worked alright.” Modulok scratched his two heads with his two left hands, “I just... I calculate that we’ve got about five minutes before either the ship burns up ooooor the all-mighty, all-powerful relic sword explodes and tears our atoms apart and flings them across the ten dimensions... maybe both, probably both.” Modulok shrugged his shoulders with a lifeless chuckle, which didn’t really comfort the perched Vultak on the walkway railing. Then again, what would possibly lighten the mood in that moment.

Hordak and Princess Entrapta managed to angle the station in a manner that it’d just nearly miss the planet, burn up in the atmosphere and use the momentum of the gravity to sling shot it into a surrounding moon. The space station was mentally linked to Horde Prime, everything was operated and controlled with his consciousness. With Prime dead, it put them into a difficult circumstance. Someone had to stay behind to make sure the ship stayed on course, someone mentally compatible with the Horde systems. Hordak was the logical choice, actually he was the only choice. He was the only High General present, meaning only he comprehended and was familiar with the warship systems. Hordak thought it was funny, She-Ra did finally kill him. A destiny fulfilled.

“Five minutes to live. That’s not a lot...” Mosquitor spoke up, giving off a an exhausted sigh. All six clones present in the room fell into tense and anxious silence. Fear and sadness blocked their throats, they weren’t used to talking, with their vocal cords, it was forbidden. Clones were only allowed to communicate telepathically and only communicate about their duties and objectives. Small talk wasn’t in the Horde dictionary. Ironically the only places where clones were able to talk and showcase their individualism was on the frontlines.

“Okay, so five minutes left of life... any last words?” Modulok asked shimming his rear to find a comfortable position to sit on the hard, cold walkway. A grated panelled pathway suspended at the centre of a deep chamber above a transparent force shield at the bottom. Which frames a view of heat and fire outside, melting and charring the metal outer casings of the ship.

“What’s there to talk about?” Despara quirked her brow at her brother’s question.

“Well, we’re clones, we don’t get this lucky. We’ve got five minutes to make up for all the decades of silence.” Modulok articulated.

To guide the warship most effectively Hordak had to observe the trajectory from a vantage point, that was where their paths diverged. Princess Entrapta protested, she held his hands in her own, massaged his knuckles with her thumbs. She raised herself up on her hair to face him eye to eye. She even gave him her signature smile, the one that melted his heart in a second. She had that look of possibility in her glistening crimson eyes, a spark of wonder and wanting that looked into multiple futures, hundreds of possibilities, a look that showed Hordak what he had to fight for, a world where that smile, those eyes and that laugh and that brilliant mind exist. A perfect world. He chose to make it, even if it was without him in it. He decided to do something his brother could never. A final gift to Entrapta, for all the trouble and confusion he caused her.

He gave her a kiss on her gloved hand, befitting for royalty, he gave her the best smile he could, and for the last time, he left her. Princess Entrapta would go on to cry for many days to come, but it was for the best. The greater good.

“Alright. I’m just gonna say it, food, not a fan. Too mushy. Has to go through your entire digestive system, which I didn’t even know existed until a few cycles back, and it has to come out th-” Modulok was cut off by Hordak, who previously was completely silent.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” He didn’t even look at them as he spoke, face down, staring at a small purple crystal in his hand, which he used to fugit with to ease his nerves.

“What are you talking about? We stay together. We’re defects.” Despara states to Hordak almost offended, all of them were through a lot, she felt offended that Hordak thought they’d abandon him now.

“We fought through war. We hold-ass across the universe. And we killed our god! Together!... Well, technically the blonde Valkyrie lady killed Prime, but still it’s the thought that counts.” Vultak shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. Hordak rubbed circles on the purple crystal, looking down on it, his face reflected in it’s cracked surface. L-U-V-D. That’s what was etched on it. A fact. A reminder of her compassion. A wake up call. And he did wake up, from a dream world he believed all his life. A life of lies. From a hazy of toxic green to a reality of flaming red.

“I am your general. I stood at our brother’s side, you were mere soldiers, pawns. I deserve this pain, not you. You could’ve- you should have had normal lives.”

Mosquitor chuckled to himself, “Normal isn’t exactly in our dictionary.” The towering brute countered as he cradled the young hybrid in his arms, keeping Zed near his chest. As if it would make any difference when the fire broke through. “Also we’re not the kind of people the Etherians seem to want to deal with.” The statement made a wicked smile form on Hordak’s face. He enjoyed being in charge, being the one with the carrot on the stick. Having something of his own, something to his own name. They will always remember his name. Never forget. No one will ever forget.

“Then what do you think happens to our brothers? You think the Princesses kept their side of the bargain? You think their all off the ship, that they evacuated them?” Despara asked most likely imagining the worst, a possibility that there were some other poor clones still on board. That they were sacrificing lives that weren’t there own.

To quiet their minds, Hordak tiredly claimed, “No. They kept the promise. They’re honest people.” Hordak added that they had to, they were just like that, it was in their nature. Hordak knew their brothers were fine. BrightMoon had no court to try them, no holding cells and wouldn’t have enough to hold all of them for decades to come. And hopefully if Entrapta didn’t decide to hate him, she’d help them all and embrace them in her warmth. Dryl hadn’t had citizens for a decade or two, he was sure the clones wouldn’t be much of a downgrade. Add some life to the ghost town, so she doesn’t feel alone anymore.

“Yeah, well whatever they’re up to, it can’t be as bad as the predicament we’re in, heh.” Vultak flapped his winged arm around, a sharp gasp of pain escaped him as he moved his right around. No wonder either, it was bent forward, from the fight with Prime, literal minutes ago. It felt so victorious for just a moment, but life has a fun way of turning tables around.

“Plus, the Princesses, totally lame, right?” Modulok rolled his eyes as he attempted to stand up to get over to V and help his brother’s arm. But Vultak raised his left hand in protest, there was no need. It was going to be over soon. Modulok sat back down in defeat, amusement draining from his two faces. What good was a medic that couldn’t fix his fellow soldiers.

It was Mosquitor’s turn to brighten the situation, “Hah, yeah I bet they’re all clawing their ears out by now. Hehe, remember what those colour coded pansies moaned about all the time? Friendship? And rainbows? What a mucha losers, eh? Hehe... heh.”

“I remember.” Hordak stated. Never again. Never forget.

“Yea, losers.” Despara nodded.

“Losers.” Modulok and Vultak said at the same time.

“...Hmmmhehehahah- HA!” Modulok covered his face to hide his ugly laughter, forgetting about the other one expressing the same emotion.

“Mode, what the hell now?” Vultak asked, a smirk creeping up on him.

“Hehehehahahahhhh, ahhhhh man, w-heh-which one was the one that tried to hug Zed, heheheh and- and got burned. Oh lord. Oh Great Darkness. That face was priceless. HhhhhhhhHAHAHA!” The infectious mirth managed to wriggle out a small spasm out of Zed. His shoulders moving up and down, his nasal cavity wrinkling up in that cute way. Of course the young Zed contributed no sound of amusement as he was mute.

Despara shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. They all look the same to me.” The room shook violently, the pipes above rattled and metal panels fell off the walls and fell down through the force field below. Hordak’s realisation dawned on him, that he would be departing the mortal realm. Even thought there was an inferno forming beneath him, just outside that thin force field, even though he was surrounded by his clone brethren, his mind couldn’t help but wonder off to the thought of a certain Scientist Princess. His mind run wild with quite corny and laughable poetry, everything he wished he said to Entrapta. But didn’t.

He didn’t need her to devote her entire life to him. No. That’d be caging her. She deserved to be free, free to bend the universe to her will and bow before her beautiful intellect. He didn’t need her to lay her lips on him, she didn’t need to touch him. All he needed was just to see her smile, at him. Just for her to be with him, because that smile just for a moment saves him, just for a moment she makes him forget the endless pain he endured every day of his life. And every smile felt like an eternity of bliss. And so with just a look that woman could transport him into a perfect world, where he could live an eternity-long life.

But he didn’t say any of that to her. Hordak knew Entrapta wasn’t interested in long speechs, she had a short attention span, she was a woman of actions not words. That’s why before all this all Hordak gave Catra was a short note to give to Entrapta. He had her promise that she’d apologise to Entrapta, for all that she had done. Unfortunately, he made her apologise for the two of them. The note read ‘I’m sorry, and thank you. - Your ever loyal knight, Hordikins. Farewell My Queen.’ He could have gone on how there were no words in any dialect across the universe that could express how she made him feel, or that if she only asked he would have gifted her the universe. The note said everything it made to.

“Kinda sucks, all this. I only came on sentient a few hours ago.” Despara stated playing with her hair. The statement of dry humour pulled Hordak back from his day dream. “But I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet all of you. And... and be myself, even if it was short lived.” Despara finished. The words brought smiles to her fellow brothers, the past few Horde cycles were the craziest experiences of their lives, because they were experiencing life itself for the first time. They decided where their paths led. Especially Despara. She wasn’t always... herself. What was going to become Despara was clone DSP-772,411, whom was the detention guard overseeing Catra’s cell. ‘411 had never met an other lifeform other than clones. Dess was a servant clone. Never stepped outside the perimeter of The Velvet Glove. Her insight on the lay out of the ship came in useful to the defects in their infiltration to kill Prime. ‘411 always felt like they weren’t serving their cause properly, along side their dying brothers on the frontlines. Though not on the battlefield she risked her life every day. Prime had a tendency for violent mood swings. A dinner party for Prime’s guests could be more traumatising and devastative to a clones health than the trenches. Many clone have begged to be sent to the frontlines to escape the unspeakable horrors which occurred within the walls of the warship.

‘411 was immediately drawn to the captive Magicat. Catra spilled her heart, cried and whimpered, talked about an old flame of her’s, about how she hurt people close to her, about how the Princesses were “full of it” as she put it. And ‘411 listened to all of it. And at the end, when Catra’s tears dried up and she quieted down, all ‘411 could ask was, what a ‘she’ was. It must’ve shocked Catra, eyes wide in confusion and mouth drooping low in surprise. Hordak was there when she did, but he could’ve imagined the cat’s reaction, mostly because his first Force-Captains had the same reaction when he first asked that same question in his first years on Etheria. Captain Octavia had quite an interesting evening that day. He made her swear an oath of silence, to never speak of that embarrassing encounter.

Clones had no concept of sex or gender, things just were the way they were. As Prime intended them to be, perfect. The bodies and missions given to them by Prime were unquestionable. And it never was questioned, because none knew what other possibilities were out there. The alien armies of the Horde encountered were all different and unique, but there was no time or reason to study them. It wasn’t an objective. Prime did not care. Her brothers may have not fully understood, what Despara meant when she said she was always “this” deep down, but none argued, none protested against their new sister. She was a clone, a defect, one of them. She was a new experience. One of a kind. And as Vultak put it ever so elegantly, “Cool. I never had a sister before.”

It was ultimately her who let Catra out and helped her escape back to the Alliance. Hopefully she got that kiss she so desperately needed. Hordak met ‘411 only once before being sent off back to the frontlines, his return and the assault on the Velvet Glove, and briefly at that, on his way with a breakfast tray to Queen Glimmer’s guest room.

“Hey, hey, stop with that sappy stuff.” Mosquitor waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. Moe, as his brothers called him, much like most clones including Hordak, wished to at all times seem tough. Poor MSQ-999,332 had it worse than most. He hide his defection for much longer than Hordak. The illness became so bad that eventually he could no longer use his own legs, his waist and legs lost all near all muscle mass. And so ‘332 became paralysed. He was just slowing down his platoon down, so his lower body was amputated. Of course the brother that rescued and brought Moe on board was executed for the crime of ‘Conferring with Inappropriate Machinery’. And Prime personally threw Moe out the airlock back down to the battlefield. ‘332 spent most of his days afterwards, crawling across mudded trenches. Luckily, Moe met on that some battlefield, MUD-111,117, or Modulok.

Nothing, but hatred and vengeance flew through his veins, it did for all of us. Mode managed to construct a life support system, for Moe, a walking hospital bed. Many parallels could’ve been made between it and Hordak’s own First Ones suit, created by Entrapta. Moe’s unit was twice the size of Hordak, it made him tower over even Prime, but the biggest difference was, Hordak’s suit was near indestructible, Moe on the other hand even if he had intimidation on his side the armour was more for life support than anything. Mosquitor faired better from a distance, ‘332 was an amazing snipper. The room shook more, sparks fling from wiring in the wall, the walkway holding them vibrated and shuttered. Moe took hold of Zed in his large arms, readying for the end.

The sight made Hordak thankful that Entrapta took Imp and got him to safety. The Lord of the Horde didn’t think he could’ve handled having to be forced to watch he’s own creation die... his little spy. He was safe, back on Etheria, in a loving home with a loving overseer. He only hoped that she’d teach Imp her ways, and hoped that one day Imp would grow into an intelligent man worthy enough to continue her legacy of brilliance.

Zed was the youngest of all the clones, although technically the creature wasn’t even a clone, but rather a hybrid. A prototype of the splicing initiative. A combination of Prime’s DNA and an unknown gene pool. The kid was an attempt at a creation of super soldiers, but failed. Poor kid always wanted to meet that other half of him. That other person that aided in bringing him into the world. This awful, awful world. Sadly, he never will, but he was the first to follow Hordak into the chamber. The boy did say back on the frontlines, that he’d jump into fire after him. And it was true. And to be more accurate, he didn’t say, he signed. All the defects learned the universal sign language. Zed might’ve been silent, but his voice wasn’t unheard.

He’s fate should have been a better one. He didn’t deserve this, he had a full life in front of him. Hordak never knew what drew Zed to him, why he asked so many questions, why he snuck out at night to see  him in the trenches. When Prime sent Hordak back to the frontlines, after his torturous reconditioning, he lost hope, but when he stepped out, or rather more accurately, when he was thrown out the troop dropship. Face first in a muddy trench dozens of defects thrown down with him. When he looked up from the dirt and filth, a slither of hope ignited in his belly, as a hand extended to him. Wonder in the boy’s eyes. He overheard Hordak’s mention of being trapped on other worlds.

”Hey, V you’re staring into the ceiling buddy. Talk to us.” Modulok snapped his fingers at his winged brother. Vultak didn’t turn to face him, mesmerised by the ceiling falling apart. V’s facial expression showcased a hypnotised look. As a combat aerial unit he always did look into the skies. But it probably had to do something with the impending doom below. ‘Don’t look down.’ Hordak remembered was the advise Vultak gave him when they leaped out onto the Velvet Glove from the dropship they stole, which exploded seconds later in the void of space as it filled with laser fire. VLT-441,441 was a paratrooper in the Horde military, until of course his defect began to show. He was always used to jumping into certain death, fearless in any mission. Vultak didn’t fear anything physical, nothing in the universe made him back down. But now, at the end he looked frightened, he couldn’t look down, do no more leaps of faith, for faith, he lost.

It’s true V feared nothing physical, because he had faith. He was a man of god. A believer. But what happens to a man when your god turns his back on you? Horde Prime knew defection was inevitable for many clones. No machine was perfect, especially no war machine. So Horde Prime infused prophecies and implanted messages into all clone subconscious, so that when defection occurs, all clones are compelled to return to him. Easier than hunting them down, easier to cover up the disgrace of his failures. Easier to hide his mistakes, he couldn’t afford to let those space fairing races above him mapping his progress to know about things like that. Couldn’t afford to let those higher than him know he was capable of mistakes. Perfection was expected of him. Those others above him, he tried to impress them, to have them take him in, show him enlightenment. He, all he wanted to do, was show he was worth their celestial time, he was worth something.

And now he’s nothing. He is now dead. Hordak found that he began to enjoy poetry and it’s irony more and more, in a twisted sort of way. Truly clones.

“Do you... Do you think there’s something out there for us? Up there, where ever?” The questions were deafening, everyone hoped Vultak wouldn’t have gone existential on them. But Vultak was the biggest patriot of them all, even surpassing Hordak’s obsession with their brother. And in turn he was the one most hurt by Prime’s betrayal. He was no god, no grand being, just a liar. Hundreds of thousands murdered... for him, because they believed their big brother. Hundreds of thousands, they murdered, for a lie.

“Do you think any of it was true? Do you think he believed any of it? Or was it ALL a lie?” Hordak answered V’s question in his mind, since never before was it a private place: Lie. “The Perfect World. The Grey Mound? The Hold Peck? The Great Darkness?” V grit his teeth, another wave of pain from his broken arm.

“Worried about being sent to the bad place, V?” Modulok asked, weak smile wearing.

“I’m just wondering. What’s waiting in the beyond for a guy like me. It can’t be anything good... if there even is anything up there.” Modulok decided to stand up and close the distance between him and his distraught brother. He leaned against the railing on which Vultak perched himself.

Mode gently touched V’s shoulder, it made sure V looked at him when he spoke. “I promise you, where ever you wake up on the other side, I’ll be there with you. And I’ll always fix you up after you jump into certain doom. Brother, you have my word.” It was true, the two were inseparable. Threw pure change the two met on the frontlines. While V had his head in the clouds, Mode grounded him, pulled him down to his level. Mode was a realist. He was bad at his bed side manner, he never lied to himself or his patients. He was a field medic, he saw things no one should, endured horrors unimaginable to the innocent. Modulok was the oldest to them, he was through a lot, fighting from world to world longer than any of them in Prime’s name. Over the many decades the spark of pride dulled, Mode found himself lost, fighting across the stars for a cause he no longer believed in.

Mode’s was haunting, even to other defects, whom experienced hardships and injustice. Modulok’s defection was the most dire Hordak ever seen, MUD-111,117 developed a second head, and two left arms. His genome could have been compaired to a computer glitch, untreated it just got worse. It was a miracle that Mode managed to make it to such an old age. Many species across the universe considered age to be a weakness, a disadvantage, but ‘117 always argued that with age came experience, and with experience came knowledge, which in turn led to wisdom. It was Mode who constructed Moe’s suit, led Dess’s surgery, gave V his wings and taught Zed sign language. A true veteran. He had been through it all.

But what Mode never helped Hordak with anything, ‘ 117 was a medic, he was compelled to fix others. But when Hordak first arrived at the fronts of Primus Minor, he isolated himself from everyone else, kept to himself. Hordak treated his own wounds, he worked on his armour alone. When he took the suit off, he was forced to walk on his own, no armour support system. And so he locked himself in an unused compartment of the trenches and over the course of six months, he learned how to walk. Baby steps to an adult man, who never had a childhood. Mode gathered from all of that, that Hordak was a loner. A solo act. Didn’t do well with people.

There came a day where Mode pulled Hordak off to the side and asked him why he worked through all the baggage alone? Why didn’t he ask for aid? Why did he ignore them? Hordak apologised that it seemed like he was avoiding them. And what Hordak said back in response stayed with the medic ‘til the end of his life.

“Mode... If there is good and evil.

And good is better than evil.

God has to be good... Right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, are we good? Are we... like him?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s no such thing as good or evil.

But it’d be nice... to be good.”

“So, anybody got any idea how much time we’ve got left?” Despara asked looking at Modulok. Who just struggled in return, he didn’t exactly have a timer, he simply estimated the time remaining. “So that’s a no? We don’t kno- We can just blow up at any second?... Cool.” Dess combed her hair with her fingers to calm her nerves.

“You really think a timer would settle your nerves?” Moe asked unconvinced.

“I suppose not.” Dess admitted.

“I could’ve been with her.” Hordak spoke up suddenly in the middle of the conversation, honestly he was so quiet Despara forgot he was there, even though he was seated right next to her.

“What’d ya mean?”

“I could’ve saved myself... the First Ones crystal, it’s a server. To help me sync up with her new armour, Entrapta recorded my brain waves on the crystal. My memories, my thoughts, my personality, all of it... I could have given it to her when I last saw her.

But I didn’t.

I lied.

I left her.”

All five siblings turned their heads side to side take turns looking at each other and then back at Hordak. His face unmoved. Looking at the purple crystal. Zed stood up and broke free of Moe’s embrace. The young one stepped up to him. Hordak’s blood red eyes drifted up to the boy’s hands. He signed.

‘Why?’

“...Because it wouldn’t be me. Not me. A clone of me.”

The clones fell silent. Head bowing down. No more needed to be said. Every aspect of their lives had been thrown into question, into uncertainty. When the assault on The Velvet Glove happened, Hordak was leading the charge. Prime captured him and tortured him, he hurt him in front of Entrapta. He fell to his knees and crawled back to Prime, like he always did. But this time it was different, he stood up, he walked to him. Like a man, not a dog. Prime insulted and demeaned him. Prime claimed that Hordak wasn’t wasn’t a person. Clones were nothing, mere shadows of his greatness. The clones were him, just dirtier, unclean. A lesser version of what he was.

This was their stance against that. Showing that their lives meant something. That they were worth something. They were worth the world, for that was what they were saving. The scale balanced out.

The force field beneath them gave off a thunderous sound, a final warning. The bay shook one more time, the artificial gravity became disabled and the room began to tilt and shift. The metal walls crumbled like paper. The walkway began to swing and crack. Mode took V’s unbroken hand into his own. Moe embraced Zed in his arms one last time. Dess wrapped her arm around Hordak’s shoulder, and he inturn pressed his head against hers.

Modulok gave his last words in the form of a question, “...Do... Do you think... Could’ve we done something, could’ve we ended up with a happy ending, all of us? Could’ve we been good? Would it have make any difference?”

Hordak spent his last moments thinking, he didn’t realise he was thinking out loud, “Good? I think there’s no such thing as good?...

But it was nice...”

What ever this was. What it meant. What it was worth.

The force field imploded, gave in. The fire broke through. The Velvet Glove burned up in the atmosphere. And the clones were no more. And on that day all of Etheria cheered, and celebrated. For the evil was vanquished.

Ding-dong! The witches are dead.