#fair folk au is still very much going on i'm just working on some more worldbuilding for that one

[good--merits-accumulated]

god. this anderperry renaissance au is knocking me around some kind of way

[starflungwaddledee]

clearing my inbox of a variety of asks with text replies, or ones that will get art answers later but that i still figured i could get back to now with simpler responses in the interim.

lots of anons, but i'll ping anyone who i can!

topics include: general nice words + people's theories (thank you!!), dededesign, daroach (sorry), sentient ancient artifacts, magolor (sorry...), whispy woods (SORRY...). there's also a decent scattering of awtdy and clockwork heart tidbits but they're all over the place, and a small collection of increasingly desperate asks hoping bandee will be released from morpho dee 😂

oohh this one is actually super old, sorry that i never got back to it! i get a little overwhelmed by the Nice Words ones sometimes and i'm not sure what to say besides 'thank you!!' because it means a lot to me and 'thank you!' just sometimes feels like it doesn't cut it...?

anyway, i'm very grateful!! i'm thrilled if i could inspire you to try out any constructed-language work of your own!! i'd love to see more of that going on in the kirbyverse so if you ever give it a crack feel free to lmk!

i'm glad you like the full penguin dededesign; quite a few folks seemed to enjoy that actually and i was pleasantly surprised! i haven't drawn that much of most characters besides bandee, to be fair, but the next comic will be about dedede and should answer some of the other questions i've been getting about him too!

i should say that it's likely the totally full penguin design won't make it for the comic, because it's hard to draw the sheer length of their bills from many angles or having the expressiveness i need for dedede, and i really only did that one for funsies. but i'll hopefully find a nice compromise!

aaaa the joy of being mentally unwell about The Characters and The Story. thank you, glad i can be of service! 👍

this is quite perceptive of you to notice and it's definitely something that occurs in the timeline. due to galacta knight's influence (and kirby's altered reputation) visitors and threats- both international and intergalactic- start to think twice before risking an approach.

alas, because daroach appears in the timeline before galacta knight's switch-in occurs, he would already be in contact and friendship with kirby. that unfortunately means he'd meet the same fate as the rest of kirby's existing allies.

@i-only-created-this-to-read a little similar to the above ask, yes, the intergalactic picture of popstar is definitely changed by the presence of a violent, otherworldly warrior and a ruthless hero. i also answered your questions about necrodeus previously and am not sure what else to say about him.

i have confirmed before that dedede is not dead, and more about his scenario and overall role in the plot will be revealed in comics. but i will say that he's a smart guy, despite his silliness, and a loving king. he absolutely came to the same conclusion about the frequency of his own possessions as well, through no small amount of heartbreak.

i definitely headcanon the Lor as sentient; in the light novels, bandee also speaks to her fairly directly. i actually headcanon all the Ancient artifacts as having an amount of sentience (this seem in line with what we've seen in canon, so i don't think it's a reach) and the lor herself seems especially benevolent to me.

our headcanons for the novas are different to yours, though that plays more of a role in the clockwork heart au. i quite enjoy your theories about how the ending might go and you've definitely picked up some details!! i won't confirm or deny anything, but i will say the lor is present in the AU, and that magolor has enough knowledge of artifacts to know that a wish on a wishing star could be a viable solution.

it took a while for folks to start asking me about magolor actually, which i found kind of amusing because he's the deuteragonist (second protagonist, after bandee) of the au!

i do definitely think that canonically magolor lives on the lor starcutter; though he does say he wants to buy a holiday home on popstar! however in awtdy, unlike the dream land four three, magolor's entire timeline is trashed from the get-go by galacta knight's arrival

some of these answers will take me longer to get to as i'll provide them in comics (it should be a fun reveal at least), but i will say: he hates popstar. he hates it there. he'd give just about anything to be anywhere else.

until he meets bandee, of course.

the rest of popstar fare a little better or a little worse at various points in the au, kind of like in the mainline canon timeline. for the most part, galacta knight isn't that interested in most of popstar. he enjoys living there, it's peaceful and undeniably pleasant, and frankly he'd like to continue doing so!

he can be convinced (by kirby, and the maintenance of the lie) to perform care to some of its citizens when necessary- such as rebuilding after a crisis. but in general he minds his business in dream land, and occasionally off-world or interdimensionally with kirby and bandee on missions.

whispy, who also keeps to his own in the woods and is just a cantankerous old tree, is probably fine. at least up until star allies, when he, you know. gets possessed.

@pumpkinnkidd oh absolutely.

@torrentialchaos2 that would be a different story to chrysalis au, i think! one i could write, but haven't. chrysalis au is specifically about bandee, you can't really extract him from it? 😭 but if morpho possessed magolor it would depend on a lot of things: like what is everyone's relationship to him when it happens? i think even when he comes back from his redemption arc, magolor and the gang are friends, but it's not the same as bandee, who is a core member of their unit.

we've already seen what happens when magolor gets possessed and kirby has to Beat His Ass to get him back to normal. and we've seen that when morpho possesses others who are capable fighters, kirby doesn't hold back. so maybe that? magolor is a magical little guy; he's got a better chance of getting spat back out unscathed.

i could however probably write a version of this for magicapple if i wanted, which would be much more emotionally pulverising lmao

@trainerbob23 thank you!! this one took me a bit to respond to sorry, but i'm grateful for the warm welcome! the AUs are definitely my primary investment and i'm glad that folks are enjoying seeing them develop! some of them are connected to each other (awtdy + it's various endings/alts) but others are separate.

i also do have some backstory/lore for starstruck dee, which i'll hopefully get to soon as well. i would say that she is... very much related to stars and the cosmos, yes.

@eliastheownerof0axolotls this one was part of a longer ask (that i've answered part of, and still have another part of in my queue... sorry;; ) but i think this part- especially in terms of kirby- has probably been mostly answered by now! both kirby and dedede have significant roles!

i view dedede as having a mentor-like dynamic with bandee as well as with kirby, and they all care about each other very much! but (especially because they are all adults in my hc) he also absolutely trusts them to handle themselves.

referring to this post and the (cw angst) art at the end. i will hopefully answer some other asks about the clockwork heart au which will satisfy more of its overall premise and timeline and all, but in regards to the peculiar image...

why that picture is completely normal!! bandee is super fine and normal in it and everything is great and good and fine and fine and fine and fine!!! hhahaha!!!

(something very bad is happening, lmao. entirely doomed by the narrative.)

speaking of bandee being doomed by the narrative:

some tags here as well, but i just love the frequency of these...

bandee gets possessed one time and everybody loses it... quick!! when will he get unpossessed!!! save that little guy!!! he's sad so we're sad!! (relatable. everyone is so valid.)

the tags on the main posts about morpho dee are just full of people screaming and crying and being like "NOOO I HATE THIS SM I'M IN PAIN /pos" and it's so good hahahaha

sorry to the folks who hate to see him going through the blender, he's being spun in the microwave at like 90mph on my blog. but don't worry, chrysalis au does have a predictably good ending; though obviously bandee has some capital S Stuff to unpack afterwards!!

🌟⭐✨

aaand i think that's all for now! hopefully if you've been hanging out for an ask for a while you're answer is here, and if not (and possibly even if it is), it's most likely taking me so long because i want to do an answer with art.

i'll try not to let these build up again like this, thank you for your patience!

[gendervapor14]

gendervapor's 2023 Fanfiction Review ✍

i saw @chromatic-lamina put something like this together and thought it was really cool!! a lot of artists do year-in-reviews, (myself included) but i haven't seen anything for fanfiction yet. so i decided to give this a go! template is from here!! i'll throw a "read more" at the bottom with links to these fics, ratings, and warnings, if applicable. i'm pretty shocked i was able to write at least one fic a month! for some months, i had a bit of an internal conflict deciding which fics to advertise 😅 hopefully i captured a good range!

01746 ~ M, canon compliant, check tags for warnings

how to bed your captain ~ T, canon compliant

all bark and no bite ~ T, modern AU

doflaminBROS week 2023 ficlet collection ~ T, canon compliant

last trip to the county fair ~ gen, modern AU

façade ~ T, canon compliant, check tags for warnings

life of a paper shredder ~ gen, canon compliant

the duties of a pool boy ~ M, modern AU, check tags for warnings

let me kill your demons ~ M, canon compliant, check tags for warnings

words cut deeper ~ gen, canon compliant

heavy-handed ~ T, canon compliant, check tags for warnings

speechless ~ E, modern AU

i was busy this year, huh? i'll put some 2023 stats on display, too!

this is just, insane to me!! i could have NEVER expected this much support!! it's downright absurd. it's not like i'm writing very popular ships or concepts (aside from the donquixote bros, they're somewhat popular to my knowledge) BUT STILL. ya'll have always been so sweet and helpful and just, so supportive. i could never have imagined i'd be this into a fandom for so long, and i think part of the reason is because of the love in this community. i've noticed my writing improving drastically! so thank you. thank all of you. thank you kudos-givers and commenters and mutuals and followers. thank you guests and lurkers and all the folks who opened my fics in a new tab to save 'em for later. i'm giving you all a hug and a treat of your choice. i couldn't have created this much beautiful work without your love ♥♥♥

looking forward to creating even more in the new year!! 💖

[explorersaremadeofhope]

I would like to know more about both your Star Trek Terror fic and your Crozier hates tinder fic please 🙏

omg okay so like, these are both a bit old, star trek terror fic is proper old, i think i wrote it in 2021, but im still hoping!! i had so much fun just working out the worldbuilding on that one and how the different characters slot into different roles, but then i ran up against my old nemesis The Actual Plot and was like 'hmm ok, i think i need to know a bit more about Star Trek TOS lore for this', aaaand that's where i stalled. it's fitzier, but like, eventually. very eventually. you'll see why from the snippet 😂

crozier hates tinder fic was me going 'why is there almost no modern au romcom rossier fic' and then having a very funny convo with some folks on discord about science nerds on tinder. that one mostly exists in vague outline form with a scene or two written out plus random details like 'james ross owns not one but several tacky early 2000s mugs from various places in the southern hemisphere, preferably with penguins on'.

snippets mostly below a cut because they got long (sorry about that)!

Star Trek Terror:

francis raised his brows, but said nothing. ignoring fitzjames' confused expression, he turned his attention back to the file in his hand. "i see from your service record that you've received several commendations for bravery in engagements with the romulans and the klingons." he looked up. "out of curiosity, do you speak klingon? or romulan?"

"ah, no, sir," fitzjames smiled apologetically. "i'm afraid i don't."

"i see. so your expertise lies primarily in firing at alien races, not communicating with them."

it wasn't a fair question, nor a fair conclusion. clearly taken aback, fitzjames blinked in open surprise. "sir," he began carefully, "i believe my qualifications -"

"your qualifications, commander fitzjames, are perfectly adequate. even impressive. for war." francis fixed him straight in the eye and held his gaze. "but don't let the repurposed nature of our ship fool you. we are a survey vessel. you will appreciate, no doubt, that the primary goal of any exploratory mission is to avoid bloodshed, not to excel at it." fitzjames drew breath to speak. francis ignored it. "put bluntly, commander, we don't particularly need a war hero. what we need is someone who knows how to calibrate a spectrometer correctly."

"with all due respect, sir," said fitzjames, once he was sure francis had finished speaking, "i think you'll find i have the requisite scientific training to apply for this post." he'd uncrossed his legs while francis was speaking and now sat ramrod straight. his mouth was pinched, his dark brows drawn together.

francis waved that away with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head. "this isn't a twelve-month patrol tour along the neutral zone, commander. we will be five years in deep space. sometimes uncharted space. in that situation, a man's merits on paper will matter far less than his personal qualities."

there was a pause in which fitzjames lowered his gaze to the floor, his jaw working. when he spoke again it was to a point just above francis' shoulder. the affable buoyancy had drained from his voice, leaving a gravel harshness which francis privately suspected was far more genuine. "i respectfully posit, sir," said fitzjames, "that you don't know my personal qualities, seeing as we've only just met."

francis' smile did not reach his eyes. "be that as it may. i'm afraid my decision is made, commander." he set his padd aside and folded his hands on the table. "thank you for your interest. and good morning."

Tinder fic:

“Well,” says Blanky flatly. “That's sexy.”

But as he reads over the message one more time, Francis’ heart is actually slowing down from its panicked gallop – his dread replaced with sheer relief at being given a topic of conversation he's fluent in.

“No, no, it's fine,” he says absently, staring at the words I'm thrilled we matched. “I don't mind.”

“Aye, you wouldn't, would you. What the hell are–” Thomas peers at the screen more closely. “Pinnipeds?”

“Seals. Well. Not just seals.” Francis looks up. “It's one of those things – all seals are pinnipeds but not all pinnipeds are seals. You know?”

Blanky regards him with the look of a man who absolutely does not. "Right."

After staring at his phone for a few moments longer, Francis opens the keyboard. 

Hi, he types out with deliberation. Thank you for – no. That comes off a bit pathetic, doesn’t it. Backspace. 

Thank you; likewise. Exclamation point? Does the full stop look dour? Cold? But he’s never been much of an exclamation point man. Likewise – I’ve always wanted to visit Antarctica. What

He stops typing, seized by a sudden fear. Hurriedly erasing the message draft, he looks up at Blanky. “Can people see me typing on this thing?”

“Fuck should I know, Francis? I’ve been married for twenty years. – Give us a minute, though.” Blanky pulls out his own phone and writes a text. Less than a minute later, his phone pings. “Hannah says aye. Also wants to know if I'm cheating on Esther.”

[greenapricot]

2023 fic year in review

Doing my 2023 fic year in review in February bc that's how things are going in 2024 so far.

Total number of fic: 5 (1 still in progress)

Total word count: 24,217

Fandoms written in: Lewis (3), Endeavour (1), Our Flag Means Death (1)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? Less. Though I didn't really have any specific expectations about quantity, just that I wanted to write things I enjoyed writing regardless of the reception, as opposed to past years when I was fixated on the idea of writing a certain amount of fic per month. 2023 felt much more relaxed writing-wise and I'm also about halfway through a super self-indulgent fic that is probably going to end up being around 20k and I'm very pleased with that.

What’s your own favorite story of the year? The Names of All the Winds (Lewis, James/Robbie, magical realism au, alternate meeting). The aforementioned fic that's half done. I am having so much fun reliving my own holiday on Lake Garda by sending slightly alternate universe Robbie and James there and also writing magical realism which I hadn't done in a while.

Did you take any writing risks this year? I wouldn't call it a risk exactly, but Patterns Unfamiliar (Lewis, James/Robbie, hurt/comfort) was a fun challenge. My writing is usually very visual and it was interesting to have to describe what was happening in the story when the POV character was in complete darkness.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? Finish TNoAtW, which I'm actively working on and hope to manage by the end of March.

And I've said this the last two years running, but I really do want to finish the sequel to Lead me wild to your dark roads my Lewis/Shetland xover (currently titled The last place we left off). I did do a fair amount of work on it before I entered the fic challenge that spawned TNoAtW, and wrote a good portion of the Shetland fic interlude that I've realized needs to go between the two stories. So both of those are next in line after TNoAtW.

Then there's the Blackbeard's Building & Renovation fic idea that was spawned in discord, in which Ed is a builder and Stede an interior decorator (each with their own crews) and they are both hired to work on the same house at the same time. Some kind of OFMD/Grand Designs-ish fusion. And, as ever, those three Lewis casefics that are mostly plotted and not anywhere close to completion.

Most popular story of the year? One thing at a time (Lewis, James/Robbie). It was spring, I had allergies, so I wrote a fic in which James had allergies. It seems to resonate with folks :D

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Nothing like poetry (Endeavour, post-s6 Ronnie Box angst). It has the least number of comments and kudos, but I don't actually think it's under-appreciated. Ronnie Box ruminating on the terrible mess his life is post-s6 is just very niche.

Most fun story to write: TNoAtW for all the reasons I mentioned above and adding my own photos to it. And it remains fun.

Most unintentionally telling story: I should probably make up another question to go here bc I never have a good answer for this, but The Most Remarkable Thing (OFMD, Ed/Stede, domestic fluff) was basically me putting my love of gardening and living a quiet life in the woods into fic form.

Biggest disappointment: I wouldn't say it was a disappointment, but I really did think I was going to finish the Lead me wild sequel in 2023. I think I'll finally finish it in 2024 though (this time for sure).

Biggest surprise: TNoAtW growing into what looks like it will be the third longest fic I've ever written.

Tagging people just for the fun of it (no pressure though): @bryndeavour, @thankyouforbeingsowrong, @vita-s-west, @mcgstarroar, @mr-iskender, @ronniebox

[digitaldoeslmk]

I just have to say I love your art and your AU! As someone who is a big fan of LMK, but also reading JTTW right now (Anthony C. Yu Abridged Version since thats all I have access too right now), you have effectively mixed two of my favorite things right now!

I enjoy LMK because it's a fair intro to the stories while still being altered for the enjoyment of the viewers (and a younger audience). Things are definitely far from being one to one with the books, but I see it as a good starting point for people who have no idea about the culture or original story. I will admit Macaque is one of my favorites in the show, I'm a big fan of bastard characters, but even I can see that the mischaracterization of him is quite heavy since they altered the story so much. It's why I separate LMK!Macaque from JTTW!Macaque.

That being said I do also absolutely love JTTW. I'm from America so I'm used to westernized versions of stuff, but reading JTTW has been a blast. I love the characters and the story because it's a way for me to learn about a culture that's not my own. That also being said it's not the easiest read I've ever had, just because it isn't my culture and I went into reading it havign very little knowledge of the religions they touch on in the books. All the same it's still amazing. I also enjoy Macaque in JTTW. I mean who wouldn't love the cannibalistic and antagonist monkey who's actually super intelligent?

All in all I love your AU and I love that it still holds that ability to tell the story more in-line with JTTW's events (also give Macaque a more predominant role and characterization) while still holding the behavioralisms I loved to see in the characters of LMK.

- Lycori 🌸

thank you so much!! i'm happy that you enjoy my au! :DD

personally, i think that some of the changes made by the series go too far, or make it harder to get into jttw rather than easier, but i can't deny it has introduced a whole lot of new people into his wonderful novel! i think if they have kept some buddho-daoist cosmology fundamentals rather than westernizing it, maybe folks like you wouldn't struggle as much with some of te cultural contexts, yknow? and most importantly, chinese fans wouldn't feel alienated from the western fans.

still, i'm glad to hear you're able to separate the two, and that you can enjoy them both in their own merits!! i think that lmk has a lot of good qualities, not just the animation and voice acting, and hopefully my au can make a compelling point for how it could have been an overall stronger narrative if it had leaned harder on the source material and culture without cutting off those good qualities :D

if you'd like, i can always offer some good articles and meta posts i've come across related to jttw! i'm also working on a post of my notes and annotations of Oedipall God by Meir Shahar, which gave me a lot of cultural context that helped me make sense of a lot of plot beats in both jttw and fsyy (Investiture of the Gods), so people can't read the book can have access to some of its material :D

again thank you for the ask, it was very sweet! <33

[kinosternon]

20 Questions

Got tagged by @marezelle (like a month ago, whoops) and this looks fun, so I'm gonna try it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Officially 37, unofficially 57-ish (I have a lot on anon right now, plus some semi-ancient FFN stuff posted under a pseud)

2. What’s your total AO3 words count?

Apparently, 644,538.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Kind of a lot? One "it's complicated" fandom which I tend to stay on anon for, especially lately; a fair bit for a very specific corner of Free!, also for Natsume's Book of Friends. Voltron's an ex-fandom but I had fun with it right when it started; there's a handful of other anime I've cycled through. I've got an Undertale longfic I'd really like to get back to one of these days. Lately, a whole bunch of stuff for the 9 Worlds series by Victoria Goddard, which is both amazing in itself and also has my favorite fan community to date.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Names Gone Before—my one and only Adventure Zone fic, and a oneshot, but apparently it was a hit lol

Chasing Silver, Chasing Gold—my beautiful monstrosity of a love letter to the characters introduced in the third season of Free!, and which came out too late for most of the English-speaking fandom to notice it very much (this goes for the show itself and also the timing of my publishing🥲). I am so grateful that so many people have managed to find it regardless!

Equivalence—aforementioned Undertale longfic. I really want to finish it one of these days, but I know what's coming in the last arc and it intimidates me. XP

Omimai—of all my Natsume fics, I'll admit I wouldn't have figured this to be the top one. But I guess Natori is a fan favorite, and I do appreciate that it's very solidly a gen fic that gets a lot of love regardless.

Like trust falls from towers—aforementioned s1-era Voltron fic. It was an experiment to get me posting more, I had fun with it while it lasted, and I got some truly wonderful comments and support from folks reading along while I was working on it. I still go back and reread it sometimes, and I think it was pretty good.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to! I want to show appreciation and make sure people know that going to the effort it takes to write a comment means a great deal to me.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That's a tough one. Probably Pistachio Christmas Tree, as it's a snapshot of a really rough time in the POV character's life and doesn't really show any signs of things getting better for him anytime soon. (All my angsty endings come from canon compliance, lol)

OH. Or Chasing Fingerprints, which is a Nabari no Ou AU oneshot that I wrote back in high school. I wrote it under some weird constraints and don't really like it all that much, but the ending is ambiguous and deeply angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That is also weirdly difficult to say! Snapshots for Natsume, Slow your breath down (just take it slow) for Victoria Goddard's novel Plum Duff, and turning in your hand for At the Feet of the Sun (also by Goddard). Two of those three are wintertime fluff; I enjoy that subgenre a whole lot.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No. I've occasionally had some slightly weird interactions, but overall I'd say even those were well and enthusiastically meant.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Occasionally, and I'm not sure what kind it'd count as. Insecure, possibly? (me or the characters, either-or XP)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Only two so far! The weirder one was my first-ever fic, where I technically crossed over Twilight with both old!Who and new!Who. Then there's Clowder, which crossed over two of Yuhki Kamatani's manga from pretty different eras and genres and which I'm pretty darned proud of.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, no.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone ask once, a while back, but at the moment I don't remember which fic it was, or if I ended up hearing how it went.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

...If adding to a bredlik compilation counts, then yes? And I've also done a fair bit of writing to requested prompts for gift exchanges and the like, which isn't the same thing as cowriting but which feels at least a little bit similar.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oh man, how can I choose? 😭 At the top this has to be a tie between Miharu & Yoite (Nabari no Ou, QPR extraordinaire) and Yukito/Touya (Cardcaptor Sakura, TRC, etc). But also Merthur was my first ship-ship. HiyoIku (Free!) for writeability and general fucked-up-ness, but I'm not always 100% sure I ship it, tragically. Natsume and Tanuma for the same uncertainty minus about 90% of the toxicity, whee.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I'm not going to say "doubt," but uh. A couple of "it's complicated" fandom pieces (especially the ones I originally meant to be series) and also the Undertale longfic. Also some 9 Worlds WIPs, but I haven't started publishing those ones yet, either.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization is a big one—it matters a lot to me and also I've been complimented on it. Fic is my love letter to canon and so I tend to focus on what I love about canon the most, which is almost always the characters' interiority and/or relationship dynamics. I also think I'm usually fairly good at matching the tone of the original, though admittedly the translation aspect of anime stuff gives me a bit of leeway there.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Logistics. I will forget who I put in a room over a certain number of characters, and explaining how people get to and from things (or even appear in a scene) is a terrible chore. (And that's just people—my track record for items, especially furniture, is even worse.) I suspect that my overall pacing also suffers from this because coming up for practical reasons for scenes to start can be difficult.

Also scene transitions, because I write things out of order. :B

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I probably won't, for several reasons. For one, I feel like without a dedicated beta, my errors would be immersion-breaking for anyone with high enough Japanese proficiency. Also, on the other side of things, presumably most of my readers wouldn't be able to make the jump from English into Japanese (which is the only other language I'm remotely able to write in), so accessibility would be an issue. That said, I've occasionally tried to factor in what I know about Japanese and "translate" (at least a bit) to adjust how I write dialogue, when writing fics based on anime.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who/Twilight, lol. (I cared a lot about them both, okay? Also I thought trying to mash up their canonical vampire mythologies would be funny! And I was definitely right about at least one of those things.)

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh this is also mean. It's gotta be Chasing Silver, Chasing Gold though. It kicked my ass but I also put my heart and soul into it, and its length, completion, and the responses I've gotten to it have all combined to profoundly affect how I see myself as a writer. (Which may sound a little suspect, but the thing is, I spent years massively looking up to people who could write longfic, most of all to people that could do so and finish. It meant so so much to be able to join those ranks myself, whether or not I manage to do it again someday.) It genuinely feels like one of the most significant things I've done with my life, and it's something I think I'll always be proud of myself for managing to write through to the end.

Annnd done! I'm gonna tag @octopus--writer just for fun ;)

[shadowworks]

Compulsion

Pairing: Mafia!Dabi X Reader

Warnings: dubconish themes, flirting with Hawks, blood, murder, blackmail, fingering. NSFW, quirkless AU!

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Alright! This piece is for The Smut Pile Mafia Collab

I have to give my wholehearted thanks to @hisoknen @some-kindofgnome , @pleasantanathema, and @ever-enthralled for reading this over the last couple weeks, and making sure it reads well! I am so happy to have you beautiful souls! Also a special shoutout to Raph for brainstorming with me when I was stuck at the very end. 💕

Edit: This has fanart! Beautiful @maewoahoah created a Mafia!Hawks piece right here and a Mafia!Dabi piece here! She’s very talented! ;)

On this ominous winter evening it begins snowing. 

You readjust your peacoat and step through the frosty glow of the street lamp to your front door. Your muscles ache a little more than usual, your steps a little heavier. It’s been a long and tedious day at work; far less stimulating compared to Toga’s position working for a bootlegger named Tomura. But both jobs pay the rent. You push papers and withhold your scowls towards clients. Now, you want a bath. 

The sound of a muffled radio plays on the other side, and it floods your ears as you walk in with warmth and an iron smell wafting your chilled nose. 

“Folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary...

Seeeee, my baby there;

She's stretched out on a long, white table

She looks so sweet, so cold, so fair.”

Toga’s playing blues again. It’s a routine she has before the graveyard shift across town. At this time, she’s in the kitchen making something before she goes, but you’re having trouble figuring out what food smells like copper. 

“He-e-e-y,” you call lazily, a sing-songy tone in your voice. 

She doesn’t answer, though you hear the clacking of stiletto heels on wood, which makes you amble down the hall to see what she’s doing. 

“Think you can smuggle some whiskey tonight? I thought we had some, but Keigo probably polished it off last—“

You stop in the doorway. 

There’s a poor bastard lying flat on his back, head twisting too far towards the sink. Ribbons of blood streak down his colorless skin, pouring out from a dark and glossy hole just beneath his jaw. You see it puddle and stain the edges of his hair a sticky red, the only sound besides your heart thudding is the soft thrums from the parlor.

“ When I die please bury me in my high top Stetson hat

Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain

So the gang'll know I died standing pat.”

You’re in a daze, one where you’re not sure how long you’ve been staring. It doesn’t seem real. Is it real? But it’s not until you hear the sound of heels clicking against the wood floors that you drag your gaze to the noise. 

Toga’s standing near the stove, her features vacant, shoulders slouched, and she’s holding a knife that’s still wet.

What the fuck? 

You want to scream, berate her, seethe what the fuck was she thinking, or if she was thinking for that matter. But the blonde speaks up before you do, with a voice above a whisper. 

“He was going to leave me. Said he was too dangerous.” Toga doesn’t look in your direction, moving to the rim of pooled blood which has stopped spreading out, “I told him I wouldn’t let anyone come between us, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Your jaw goes taut, staring incredulously at her steely face. The lack of emotion gives you a sinking feeling in your stomach.

The man wasn’t a random suit who bled out on your floor, this moron was seeing Toga on and off for months and had been trying to be more present.

Nights spent arriving at your door with flowers and sweets, and driving her to work was becoming a staple in his routine. He preferred staying in Toga’s room if they had the day off, and he always slipped out when the morning frost dusted the grass, a soft bluish hue painting the streets before sunlight. 

But that’s not the problem. See, he was a core member inside the Mafia running the northern side of the city, ‘The League’ they like to call themselves. The only men above this guy was his boss Tomura, and the underboss Dabi. You don’t know the former, but you’ve spent time with the latter.

You’re aware of his sadistic nature that flashes behind those teal eyes, and he doesn’t try to  hide it, either. The sideway glances during a poker match before he fucked someone over , the smile he wore when you asked about the purple bruises on his knuckles. 

So fan-fucking-tastic, the broad has some nerve.

You curl your lip, already shrugging your shoulders from your coat. You toss it over the table and start rolling up your sleeves to the elbows.  

Toga finally turns towards you after catching movement by her side, brows raising confused, “What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna grab his feet and we’re gonna move him onto the rug in the hall.” 

You step in the blood, grabbing him by the rusty black colored jacket and dragging him from the puddle. Of course it leaves drag marks, your heels making tracks alongside, but you can deal with the clean up later. 

Toga hurries over to help, carrying him by the legs and letting you guide the body to the floral rug.

“You don’t want to know what happened?”

You stop. Immediately dropping the dead weight, his blond head lolls off to the side. Your palms sheen with red, but you straighten up and push a beach curl from your cheekbone with the back of your hand.

“Not really. All I want is this fucker out of my house.”

It’s her turn to stare at you incredulously. This is completely out of nowhere for you to be assisting in hiding a dead boyfriend, even if you two are roommates. You’ve only been living together for four months now.

“Toga, I need you to listen, okay?” you say, a bit mockingly, “I can look past the murdering business by pretending you acted in self defense, but if you don’t have the goddamn brains to realize this idiot has friends, then I suggest you don’t stab people!”

Toga flinches slightly at the lilted pitch in your voice, already suggesting panicky, “We can take him to the woods and hide him there?”

“That’ll work.” You don’t think Twice about it.  

Working together, you both hoist him a couple feet onto the rug, refusing to look at his face. You didn’t need to be feeling a pang of guilt. It doesn’t take long for you to roll him towards the front door, as the material wraps around his figure. 

The hardest part is retreating to the car. The moment you push through the door, you see the distance from where you stand and the car parked a little down the sloping street. You both give a hard look to the powdery snow dusting the ground, quiet and enchanting. It would be beautiful...had you not been carrying a corpse.

“Stop being a little bitch and heave!”

“I can’t! You’re making me hold all the weight!”

“He’s off the ground! How the fuck are you holding all the weight?”

“But my arms hurt!”

“Fucking hell, Toga. What if I had stayed at my sister’s tonight? What then?”

“Stop yelling at me! I get it, alright? I shouldn’t have done it in the house!” 

Your bickering toils through the winds, muffled by the falling snow. The burst of cold air is running through your buttoned blouse while crossing to the 1929 Chevrolet causing a shiver to roll down your back. When you reach the car Toga plops the rug down onto the snow first, then you. Your wet fingers feel numb against the metal handle. 

There’s one entrance on each side, which likely will make shimming the body to the backseat  much harder. You pause, looking at the front in thought. 

“I’ll go first,” you say, “when he’s in, you go and grab our coats.”

“Are we burying him?”

“Think the lake’s faster.”

“What if it’s icy? They’ll see the hole if we throw him in.”

You both ponder your options for a little while, this isn’t exactly something you’ve done before...You can’t say the same for Toga, but she seems just as puzzled, almost clueless on how to get rid of her ex. 

Meanwhile, the rolled corpse behind you starts to slip downhill, little by little. The slanting street gives speed and the rug starts to roll.. Red droplets trail behind in its wake. 

You just happen to see it first.

“Toga—Toga, the body! The body!” 

Toga cries out, taking off after the rug as best she can on a frozen sheet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

The graceful snowfall flutters with pain and chaos.

Toga skids against the fresh ice, feet stumbling under her navy blue dress. She falls to the ground with a hard thud, and you see she isn’t stopping. She keeps going alongside the body, sliding until the two disappear under another parked car. 

You don’t have time to think, a chill strikes up your spine in your panic. 

“Toga!” you call out, taking off after her. Unfortunately you find yourself abruptly on your back, pounding hard on the stones and stealing the breath from your lungs. 

If you could sigh right now you would. Or rather, if you could punch Toga right now you would, as rage twists with a throbbing pain in your chest. Was all this worth having a mobster roommate? The odds were piling against her. You have a mind to push her in the lake when you get there.

Several silent minutes go by with you staring up at the cloudy sky. It’s brighter from the illuminating white snow, and despite the icy powder prickling your flesh, you have no choice but to wait for the ache in your chest to fade. 

“Enjoying the view?” 

You hear a new voice, male, and the suave tone tells you who it is before he treads near. He looks over you with half lidded eyes of honey gold. 

He’s very pretty. The drifting snow flakes above his wheat coloured head manage to enhance this, though the uplifted eyes lined in black, and nicely sharp features are the last thing you want to see. You’re nowhere near ready to start lying out of Toga’s mess. 

“That can’t be too comfy down there,” Keigo says, bending forward with an outstretched hand,“C’mon, upsy-daisy.” 

You take his hand, feeling another leather glove hold your waist and lift you onto your feet. When you settle, he starts brushing the caked snow off your back. Mobster or not, he’s at least a gentleman.

“You alright?” he asks, giving you a once over for any fresh scratches.

You give a slow nod, crossing your arms over your chest. Fear’s got the better of you, and you look anywhere but him., “What are you doing here? I thought you were working tonight.”

“Oh I am! You could say I’m on patrol, need to pick up a few things.” 

Your gaze stills to your left, heart skipping. Keigo’s not alone. Standing nearby, a slim figure dressed in black from head to toe is watching you two lazily. A thread of smoke seeps from his parted lips, clouding a handsome face and spikes of black hair. Keigo keeps talking, but you can’t take your eyes off the ghostly presence you know to be Dabi.

“Unfortunately that includes loverboy. He was supposed to be back hours ago, but we figured he’s still fooling around,” a little smirk tugs at his mouth, suggestively “He’s still inside, right?”

You blink, turning back to face Keigo, “I wouldn’t know, I just got home,” you lie. 

“Look at you! You look like you’re about to freeze to death.” He starts suddenly, swiftly slipping his arms out from his heavy coat, revealing a black three piece with pinstripes, and a brighter crimson tie. In one smooth motion he twirls the long, beige coat over your shoulders, letting it rest over your figure.

“Thank you,” you say, before your eyes catch something. 

Dabi moves towards the clumsy skid marks, head tilting down to the red dots in the snow near his polished shoe. You stiffen.

“You sure you’re okay?” 

Your gaze flashes from Dabi’s retreating back to a politely smiling Keigo, “Yeah, I’m fine! I’m really cold is all.”

“Well, we should get you inside. You know you left your door wide open?” Shit, the door. You forgot about the stupid door—

(Dabi looms across the indents in the snow and follows down the hill like a dark shadow against crystals illuminating bright.)

“Ah yeah, I thought I left my purse in the car. It was just for a second, and then I slipped,” You force a smile. Relax. You need to relax. Keigo doesn’t seem convinced, reading something off in your features.

“Is that right?”

(He gets the edge of the old Ford, and notes the specks of red soak wider here. The spots lead underneath.) 

“I know, it’s pretty foolish. It’s um...It’s a good thing you showed up when you did, or...”

Your eyes drift over Keigo’s shoulder. The underboss starts to crouch low. Your pupils shrink, a new wave of panic tingles the back of your neck. Damn him, why was he so clever? 

“Dabi, wait!” you shout, pushing past Keigo’s shoulder. In your hurry you kick up the snowy crystals, rushing to the taller mobster in his long obsidian coat. Dabi quickly turns, standing up.tall before you hook onto his upper arm like a lover. “I saw an animal go under there that looked hurt. You shouldn’t mess with it.”

A smirk that breaks into a grin spreads on his face, a look of amusement blooming from your look of fright. You want to glare at him, though that could be dangerous. Why does he like seeing you scared?

 “An animal, you say?” he parrots back, adopting the same mocking pitch you gave Toga earlier. He’s not in the least bit on edge, and you really don’t like that. He flicks his teal eyes up to look behind you just then, “Good thing I have the city’s best exterminator right here.”

As if on cue, you hear the crunching boots of Keigo walking to the car. “Give me a break with the dirty work, will ya?”

“What, scared of a little pest?” Dabi taunts back coolly.

 “I’m not too fond of getting my knees wet, actually,” Keigo returns quite dryly, sharp eyes studying the long pattern marks. He places his gloved hands on his thighs and drops himself to a crouch in front of the vehicle.

You desperately hope Toga proves you wrong. Maybe she had the common sense to bail while no one was looking. It’s all you can do at this point, while Keigo dips his head underneath. You don’t realize, but your grip on Dabi’s arm presses tighter into the wool.

Keigo inspects below for a moment. There’s a long pause like a winter evening should be. Silent. Calming. You can almost believe in the soothing little lie. Then Keigo coughs a laugh  that echoes through the street. Bursts of manic giggles grow louder from the mobster, leaving you tilting your head at his pushed back hair, confused.

“There’s a pest, alright! I think I caught something—“

Keigo reaches under, and with an impressively strong yank, Toga’s head pops out in a doe eyed stare. Her arms are wrapped around a bundled rug with a fairly familiar head sticking out. 

“Hey there, Toga!” Keigo exclaims, “When did you become a rat?”

 Dabi tips his head down, drawing the lit cigarette back to his lazy smile. He’s shockingly calm which does nothing to ease your shivering panic. Toga however, seems fine. In fact, she’s moved on to livelier feelings.

“Hey! Does it look like a rat could’ve done this?!” she snaps, shaking the body in her arms. It bangs against the bottom of the car sending loud echoes through the nearly empty street. Specks of blood dribble on the white ground, and a couple more drops spray her cheeks.

You stare up at the clouds, rolling your eyes. Goddamnit Toga.

“Yeah, I guess a rat can’t hold a knife, huh? Ya got me there.” Keigo turns and beams you a smug look, eyes half lidded in an expression that reads, nice try, but you failed.

You scrunch your nose, quietly shooting him back a glare. Asshole might’ve caught you both red handed, but he didn’t have to be so fucking cocky about it. It’s only charming when he has a winning hand at cards. Beside you, Dabi’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, though you don’t have the guts to flash him the same glower. He is second in command after all.   

“Yeah, see? That’s what I thought!” Toga says in victory.

You blink very, very slowly at Toga when she finally meets your vastly unamused gaze,“...Nice work, Toga.” 

It comes suddenly. A fiery warmth ghosts the dip in your waist as Dabi leans in. It’s not unwelcomed, raw and soothing even, but it hardly lasts. His hand curls around Keigo’s coat collar and pulls it off your shoulders. The crisp wind rushes to your exposed arms.

“You got any rat poison on you, Hawks?” Dabi tosses the coat to Keigo. 

He catches it mid air as he rises to stand. “Nah, fresh out. But we have some back at the house.” 

“You want to take care of our rat problem then?”

“Can do, boss man.”

Before you can figure out what they mean–what they have planned for Toga–Dabi’s pristine leather glove presses at the small of your back and directs you toward the pouring light of the open door. “Don’t wait up.”

It’s barely there, but as you shift your eyes to Keigo, his features take on a darkened look toward Dabi.

“Play nice, now,” you hear Keigo say. This time though, the joyous tone is gone. 

A new song hums on the radio when you’re pushed through the threshold, you listen to the richly solemn blues as Dabi closes the door. He turns the lock with a click and pockets the key.

“I forgive you 

'Cause I can't forget you.

You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea”

He doesn’t give you a passing glance, instead he turns and strolls down the freshly bare hall. He hasn’t removed his coat, and each room he passes he tilts his head in to search for something, stopping by the parlor. With a twist of a knob, he shuts off the radio.

“Where’d she ice him?” he asks, still not looking at you by the stairwell. 

“In the kitchen.” You return. No point in hiding it now. 

His steps creak the wood as he ambles further down, knowing full well where to go. He’s been here a handful of times; of course, those were happier evenings filled with drunken laughs.

You watch him stand by the doorway, staring at the vibrant mess of a crime scene. He pops the tip of his cigarette in his mouth before slipping from your line of sight. Dabi’s got the key to the door, so it’s not like you can run away—especially with Keigo just outside. It’s too risky to try and you know it, but it does cross your mind. 

Summing up the courage, you decide to follow Dabi with measured steps, “What are you going to do with Toga?” 

When you face the kitchen, Dabi’s near the table where you threw your coat. He has a hand in one of your pockets, and he’s fishing for something inside. It jingles in his grip as he stuffs it into his own pocket. Your car keys. 

“Are you going to kill her?” you try again, a little irked he’s swiping your things left and right. He doesn’t release your coat either, laying it over the crook of his elbow.  

He draws a final inhale from the dying bud, and crosses to the sink to snuff it out. An exhale of smoke blows out from his lips, “Killing her seems like a favor, don’t you think?”

“I thought it was the other way around.”

He turns, flicking teal eyes sheening with energy at you, “That lunatic’s no longer your concern. Right now, you ought to be more worried about yourself.”

Your features go taut, which in turn makes Dabi’s sadistic smirk return.

 “I didn’t help her kill him.”

“No,” he agrees, taking a few strides around the blood to approach you,“but you were willing to stash the stiff.”

“Yeah, for this very reason. I didn’t want you coming after me!”

Dabi draws dangerously close, mere inches apart as he glances down with lidded eyes, the smell of tobacco perfumes from his shirt collar nestled under a violet tie. He crooks his index finger, embellished with a silver ring, ghosting it under your chin. “How’d that turn out for you, babydoll?”

With a ruthless smile, he breaks the fixed stare and rounds you to the hallway. He seems to be making his way towards the parlor again, but the swish of your peacoat in his arm, set you off.

How dare he? You don’t like how he’s walked inside, claiming what’s yours. You might have your life screwed over, but at the very least you want your coat back as some semblance of control.

You stalk after him, picking up pace to aim for his arm. The clacks of your heels are loud, but you currently couldn’t care less about being sneaky, “Give it fucking back. You’re not keeping that!”

You lunge for the black wool, but as your fingers brush the material on his left elbow, Dabi whips the coat, rotating arms. You’re not fast enough, but you try a second reach for his right arm, huffing out a growl at his stealthy reflexes.

“Dabi, I’m serious! You’re such a—”

In a twirling motion his newly free palm shoves at your shoulder, pinning you against the stairwell’s wall. He’s close, so close, the blue flames in his eyes are absurdly intense. 

“That makes two of us. You’ll get this back when I say so.” 

His voice is low, soft lips almost connecting to yours. You tilt your chin up, glaring at him with fearful, tentative eyes. His gaze flashes with mirth, and he huffs a small laugh at you.

“I’ve always liked this about you. That spark inside you.” He muses. The peacoat spills to the floor. Dabi lifts his slender fingers, pushing back a loose curl from your cheek. 

Your stomach flips, as shocks tickle your skin. There’s been subtle flirting between you two before. You just wrote it off as overthinking the moment. Even though he only called you, babydoll, and he sat next to you at gatherings. How he filled your glass with water instead of booze as the nights waned. Now, you feel foolish for denying the little signs. 

“You have a horrible way of showing girls you like ‘em,” you counter back, your voice’s quiet but leveled. 

“Yeah?” he asks. The arm holding your shoulder tightens, while the other lowers to collect your long skirt. He traces his knuckles on the soft flesh of your thigh. As his hand trails up, his eyes remain fixed on your facial features. “Maybe this will help.”

His slim fingers reach the cotton slip, and it’s easy to pull off to the side, exposing the lips of your warmth. He tests the waters, sweeping the tips of his fingers across your folds. Your mouth parts in a breathless hitch in your throat. Dabi parts his own lips drawing near, ‘til his lips touch yours but not quite pressing together yet. His pierced nose bumps yours.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” he starts, just before sinking two fingers between your folds, pumping deep and slow inside. “You’ll go upstairs and pack what you need. When you come down—”

He thrusts particularly hard into you, sending a gasping moan to fall from your open mouth. His voice remains calm, a hint of glee can be detected. Fucking bastard.

“—You’ll be leaving with me. You’ll work for me...Live with me…And you’ll do everything I say. You got it, babydoll?”

He adds a third finger, soaking his knuckles deep with your slick. He’s hitting the right spots, the perfectly deep pressure. Your attention turns hazy as wakes of pleasure tighten just below your stomach. Your hips buck against his thrusting hand, yet still, you manage to nod your head. 

Moans flutter from your lips and vibrate onto his smiling one. To heighten the pleasure he begins swirling your wet clit. “Ah, Dabi...Oh god, Dabi—”

He slows his fingers suddenly, which makes you cry out. He pretends to ignore it. “If you try to escape me...I will hunt you down and hurt you in ways that will marr that pretty skin of yours. I’ll make you scream so loud, and no one will be there to save you. Tell me you understand.”

He curls his knuckles, pressing into a rough spot at the top, pumping fiercely against your slippery, muscular walls. You cry out, squeezing at his shirt collar and coat. “Fuck—I understand, I understand! Baby, right there, ah!”

Dabi gives you no mercy. He tugs and twirls the bud of sensitive nerves, swirling with driven circles that clench your walls in wonderous pressure. You’re close, he’s so close to sending you in high bliss. Your moans get heavier, and your clenching more and more and—

He removes his fingers. Another cry of protest sobs from your mouth only to be swallowed by Dabi’s lips on yours. His tongue massages the moans from your breath, his scent of cigarettes and smoke immerse your senses as you drown in the kiss.

He slowly breaks apart with a wet sound, looking deeply in your lust-glossed eyes. His voice is low and arousingly husky. “Now get your things.”

Before you know it, Dabi pulls away from your shoulders, and turns for the parlor. You try catching your breath, watching his slim, muscular back...Did that happen? Did he rob you of everything? Your home, your life, your orgasm?

Eventually, with light steps you do as you’re told, and turn to climb up the stairs. What choice do you have? He has your life in the palm of his hand. And right before you make it to the top, your hand drawn on the railing, the spinning clicks of your house phone perk your ear.  

A long pause. Then finally, Dabi’s rich voice speaks up from the parlor,

“Hey, I’ll be needing a few guys at Togas...Yeah, we found him….Toga did him in pretty good...No, we’ll need the good bleach for cleanup.”

***

P.S, this might be a mini series 👀

[blooeyedtroll]

Home on the Range

Rated PG-13ish Lolz. For occasional cussing and maybe innuendos(?). Lolz. This can also be read on Ao3. Feel free to read it there if you prefer.

More art scattered though out this fic, hope you like it!

Hello friend! Welcome!  

This is a One shot fic that takes place in mine & @messybitch802 ​‘s : 

Efflorescence AU. 

This is the beginning of our tale, I hope you enjoy.

This is in Hickory’s POV. I thought this would be a fun way to introduce Bloo and Messy. It also seemed fitting since Hickory will play a larger part as our tale unfolds.

However, I’d like to think this could be enjoyed as a fun one-shot Hickory & Dickory fic as well. This fandom needs more Yodel Brothers content!

Big thanks to @jade-green-butterfly ​ and her random ask that kicked my butt in gear, giving me the inspiration to finally start writing:

Anyway, let’s get to it. Enjoy!:

HOME ON THE RANGE

"Rock Trolls... no doubt about that.”

The rugged, orange haired Troll put down his hammer and stepped away from the task at hand. Fence work could wait. This needed his immediate attention.  Around this time of day he'd expect to see, at most, a tumbleweed passing by the entrance to the Ranch. Maybe. Nobody ever came out this way. Not since he'd been here anyway. At a good clip, it was about an hour trek away from Lonesome Flats. Which suited his needs perfectly.

The perfect place to lay low and still blend in.

"Bist du sicher?" whispered a muffled voice behind him.

"Of course I am. Now hush, I'm gonna check it out. Stay in character. An’ be ready, just in case."

The orange haired Troll patted the front of his jeans, freeing them of a satisfying amount of dust from the day’s hard work and checked his reflection in a nearby trough. Grinning as he placed a straw of wheat that was kept in the brim of his hat; between his teeth.

Perfection.

Who would guess otherwise, that the reflection in that water, was anything but a genuine Country Troll?

It took a lot of work shopping, trial and error, but he did it.

Well, they did it. The four legged, rugged, handsome, Country Troll was in actuality...two Trolls.

Two brothers to be precise.

Yodel Trolls by the names of Hickory and Dickory. 

The last Yodel Trolls by their accounts, and they happened to be the best damn team of Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries in all of Trolldom.

For good reason.

The best tool to their disposal was their ability to blend in. So much so, it was only until it was “too late” for their marks, by the time their true colors were revealed. And this disguise has been their best yet.

Hickory, though the youngest brother, was the much taller of the two. So he was the face to this particular get-up. Making Dickory to be left with the tail end. Literally. Understandably, this was not ideal for him. 

And he definitely made it well known on many occasions how he felt about having to play a literal “horse’s ass”.

But by gum, was he the best ass you could ask for.

At this point, Dickory had mastered the art of synchronizing with Hickory's movements, in such a way, it was now practically impossible to spot anything amiss. It was as if they shared one mind while under the guise of this centaur-esk being.

And while Dickory was fairly sour about the whole situation, Hickory found himself more and more, fond of living day to day as a Country Troll. Very much so to his brother’s shagrin. The look, the music, the lifestyle...everything.

It had been two months now since the brothers found themselves here, in Country Music territory. However, last anyone on the outside had heard about them, was that they had "yodelled so hard, an avalanche fell on them"...or something? Which was just what they wanted. For the time being anyway.

The brothers had struck a deal with their last mark. 

For his freedom, he was to spread said rumor, so the Yodelers could lay low for a while.

Queen Barb, of the Hard Rock Trolls, was no stranger to the two brothers. As a matter of fact, she was one of their most frequent clients for the past few years. Which suited them just fine. Well, almost. The last few jobs they did for the young Queen, left a bitter taste in Hickory's mouth. Not so much for the tasks she asked of them, but because of something she said and what he saw on their last few visits to Volcano Rock City. Maps. Marked up. Plans of some sort. Hanging everywhere. The young ruler, looking the most tired he'd ever seen her, yet looking as if ready to burst from being too tightly wound, at any moment.

"Hopefully next time I see you dudes, one way or another, we'll all be singing to a different tune. It's gonna be so Rad."

Whatever was going on, both Yodelers agreed that it was definitely not worth getting caught up in. They could just feel it. Deep down. They were hired to track Trolls down and do what needed to do, to get by.

Both of them could be shady characters at times, but they had decent moral compasses to live by. So they told themselves.

That's why the presence of Rock Trolls at this moment made Hickory's blood run cold. Could it be possible somehow, some way, they had been found out? That whatever Queen Barb was up to, she was looking for them? What is it that she’d need them for anyway?

No. Their plan worked perfectly. Blend in as a Country Troll, lay low for a while, only do the occasional "job" when the opportunity presented itself, just until the Queen of Rock cooled her head or went through with... whatever she is planning.

Not a soul knew about Hickory and Dickory being here.

Well.

Unless you counted, July.

Miss July, the owner of the Ranch. A rather interesting Troll.

A Pop-Country Troll. The only mixed genre Troll around these parts. Unlike her four legged, centaur, Country loving neighbors; she walked on two legs... well, hooves. Her appearance could be compared to a more "Satyr" like build, with a perfect blend of both genres in her appearance. The bright colors of a Pop Troll, but the sturdy build of that of a Country Troll.

A Tough, stern older lady-Troll, with a heart of gold.

Running this place all on her own, while tending to her extremely elderly parents.

That's one of the reasons he never expected any visitors here. Nobody in town wanted anything to do with Miss July or her family. Didn't much like associating with “their kind” if they could help it. Though you'd never hear them say it in polite conversation. But that suited Miss July just fine. That's how she liked it. Ever since Miss July and her folks suffered a terrible loss to their family, decades ago, she rarely went into town if she could help it.

Which on one such occasion, is when she stumbled upon the Yodelers, in their first attempts at putting together their  “Country Persona”.

They had been camping not too far from her Ranch and the Town, when she found them both, struggling to even walk in time together, in a pair of poorly made four legged pants.

July took their word as Gospel. That they were just fulfilling a lifelong dream of wanting to, in some way, be a Country Troll. So she offered them a place to stay and to show them the ropes on what it meant to be a Country Troll. If they agreed to work for her at her family’s Ranch.

"Until you feel you can stand on yer own four hooves!' She teased.

It could be easily wagered that July being an outcast in her own community, could be a factor of sympathy she felt towards them, making her wanting to help any way she could, and possibly what made her not judgmental in the least. That, and as tough as she put herself on as, she was sweet as apple pie, through and through.

Which did make Hickory especially, feel guilty about not being more upfront with her. As much as he could be anyhow.

Especially so, when the occasional “job opportunity" presented itself around Lonesome Flats during the Yodelers free time. Turns out, there were plenty of Trolls who had a bone to pick with others, or needed matters settled around these parts. Not to mention, crooks-a-plenty to turn in.

But both brothers always repented.  By being very diligent working for Miss July on the Ranch. Anything she needed done, got done. It was the least they could do for what she had done for them for these last two months. So the last thing needed was for anything to get ugly around here.

As Hickory approached closer and closer, he could feel his brother tensing up.

"Easy.” He whispered under his breath, smirking, patting behind him in attempts to calm his hotheaded companion. While still maintaining a nonchalant and calm demeanor.

Having spent a fair amount of time in Volcano Rock City for past jobs, and even on several occasions for other clients; needing to spend time incognito as Rock Trolls, it was fairly easy to recognize them from afar.

Upon closer inspection, it did come across as rather curious to see them wearing Country attire. They couldn't be trying to blend in, could they?

No. Not by the way these two held themselves.  

One Troll in various shades of blue in appearance, the other in peculiar shades of green from toe to tip. Both faces, still covered by wide brimmed hats. The blue Troll's demeanor was nervous right from the jump. Their green companion, holding them by the hand, grounding them. As if to keep them from sprinting away at a moment's notice. Both looking tired from the trek they must have taken from town to get to the Ranch property and from the sun's unforgiving afternoon rays.

Nothing but what seemed to be electric guitars and simple backpacks on their backs. However, these were definitely the most impressive guitars Hickory had seen in all his life.

The blue Troll’s, from what he could make out, was sage in color and looked as if it was made of some large critter's battered wing. Almost bat or reptilian in nature. The green Troll’s guitar, an imposing, venomous violet, crafted by what could only could be guessed as being once the claw and stinger of some scorpion-type critter. One he certainly wouldn't want to tango with. 

Lackeys of Queen Barb’s? No... couldn't be.

"Nobody knows we're here"

"We've been so careful."

He repeated over and over to himself. Almost mantra-like. He really had no reason to be this paranoid he kept reminding himself.

“Who are the most feared Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries in all Trolldom?”

“The Yodel brothers. That's who.” He smirked at that last thought. Puffing his broad chest a bit more, in response to his inner pep-talk.

And no Troll, no matter now--

"H--Howdy!" The blue Troll, clearing their voice, shakily called out.

"Right fine day, isn't it?"

The traveler seemed to ease into the drawl like putting on an old pair of comfy shoes, and with each word, their confidence seemed to boost. Stepping forward from their green companion, they removed their wide brim hat and gandered up at Hickory, with a small smile that damn near made his heart leap through his throat. In a good way?

That was...unexpected.

His usual quick witted mind and tongue, on the spot turned into a train that just left the station.

Those eyes. Absolutely pierced him right through. Large, inquisitive, pale, cerulean eyes. Staring right at him under dark lashes, and surrounded by a cascade of cobalt freckles.

The closest shade of color he could compare those eyes to were a color he hadn't thought of in ages. Snow. Snow that as a Trolling he played in. Usually when you found yourself making forts or laying in heeps that came up so high, you would look, and you'd catch the glimmering sunlight, shining through it. A shade of blue that just melted you to the core and drew out a smile, without you being the wiser.

"Right fine.”  he responded. Recovering from his wandering mind.

No time to be side tracked by an adorable, freckled, blue-eyed Troll. With sweet, curvy features, who has solid looking muscles that look they could easily crush--

"How can I help you? You folks seem a bit far away from home. Don't get a lot of Rock Trolls around these parts.”

Thank goodness his voice seemed to be the one on track; at the task at hand.

“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”

The green Troll stepped forward, hotly, removing their own hat, as to glare directly at him. Sizing him up. Only a tad taller, but much more lithe in figure to their companion. Definitely much more fierce. Not just in attitude, but in appearance. Their eyes, deep as sapphires. Teeth, the bottom row protruding two large tusk-like lower canines. Ears, pointed back and just as sharp as their claws, which he found himself one the other end of, being pointed at. Just as he felt his hair prickle, preparing himself for what was bound to happen next, the tension was immediately neutralized.

"It's okay Mess” The blue Troll cooed, calming the green one.

"Sorry to just come on over uninvited, but uh, does a Troll named July still live here?"

"You mean Miss July? Sure does. Why, if You don't mind my askin’?"

"Well you see, she's my... can--can I please talk to her? If she's around here today?”

A good long pause washed over the three.

Hickory could feel the trepidation radiating from Dickory behind him as he swished "their tail' in annoyance. Normally, if this was any other situation, it'd be too bad for these two. He'd send them right on their way, or worse if it came to it. They seemed capable. They had guitars, they were Rock Trolls. Random Rock Trolls, showing up, asking for not himself or his brother, but Miss July. Out of all the Country Trolls in Lonesome Flats.

But the waves of anxiety radiating from this freckled Troll were massive; and when their friend wasn't staring daggers at his direction, they were gazing so tenderly and sympathetically at them. These weren't agents of Queen Barbs. These seemed like folks on a sad mission of delivering news, or something of the like. They looked as though this was the last place they would ever want to be.

Dickory always insisted that Hickory was too quick to let his heart think first before his head when it came to their line of work. He didn't see it that way though. Hickory thought himself a good judge of character. Hell, that's why they found themselves in this situation now. Tipping his hat in a friendly manner, he smiled at the two.

"Well, why dontcha follow me then. I'm sure Miss July is making lunch right about now. You folks are just in time. Name's Hickory"

"Messy." replied the green.

The blue Troll remained silent.

"Adorabull got yer tongue cutie?" he teased

Those freckled cheeks lit up in seconds, a flushed lavender. Too cute.

"Somethin' like that' They smiled sheepishly.

All the while, as Hickory walked with the two up to the main building on the property, they stuck to idle chit-chat. About the weather or the nearby town. They passed by many of the fences that housed just some of Miss July's critters. As well as a few stables, paddocks, a decent sized workshed, and the small house the Yodelers had been staying in since they arrived here. It was once they passed that particular building, the blue Rocker stopped in their tracks momentarily. Just staring. Almost trance-like. They only moved again once Messy had firmly grabbed their hand and they followed.

Finally, they reached the main building's porch. The family home. Without any prompting, the two travelers waited at the bottom steps of the porch. Hickory nodded, thinking that might be best. He walked up to the open door. The wafting aroma of today's lunch filling his nostrils. Chili with sweet rolls? If he wasn't mistaken, he could smell fresh squeezed lemonade too. Knowing better to barge in while she was in the Kitchen...

"Pardon me, Miss July?" he called out.

"Dammit Hic, I told ya once, I'll tell ya again. Lunch is on when I ring the damn bell, that's when it’s good and ready!"

Hickory couldn't help but chuckle. That July was a firecracker.

"It's got nothin' to do with that Miss. You see, You've got yourself some visitors."

"For the last time Hic, just call me Jul--"

July emerged from the doorway, holding in each hand a glass of lemonade with mint garnish. No doubt as something to appease the Yodelers until lunch was done. As soon as her eyes met the two travelers, she stopped dead in her tracks. Glaring at them something fierce.

"These two are the visitors I was talkin' about."

"Rock Trolls, huh? Here? Whaddya want?"

The blue traveler, clearing their throat, voice cracking; they smiled, eyes glazed and sparkling with unshed tears. Staring at July as if a secret wish had been granted.

"Aunty Ju-Ju? It's m-me. It's Bloo. I'm home."

Bloo? That Bloo? Could it really be? Hickory didn't need to dwell on that too long though. July suddenly yelped out loud, in such a way that it startled absolutely everyone. Including herself apparently because those glasses in her hands dropped and shattered to bits.

"You couldn't be-- w-what kind of game are ya playin’ at?!"

July at a loss for words. This was serious. There she stood, knees buckling, lip quivering, tail thrashing. Unable to look away from the Troll in front of them at the end of her porch. A look of torment across their face.

Slowly, the freckled Troll smiled sadly, and reached behind their back for their instrument. Hickory acted quickly, putting himself between the two. Staring intently at the Rocker. They stared back, as they slowly brought the instrument forward.

"Please. Let me play?"

Hickory's nostrils flared, biting down hard on the straw in his mouth. How was he so stupid? Well, he wouldn't be fooled this time.

*~strum~*

Though the guitar was imposing and electric, with a stroke of their hand, it played a long, twangy, unmistakable, Country cord.

Silence.

Laying a hand on Hickory's shower, July gently moved him aside, her attention almost trance-like on the player. Waiting.

As if they understood, they shifted and picked up their guitar in earnest. Strumming again, but to a much more upbeat melody. Much more upbeat than most Country music Hickory had heard around town that he grew to enjoy. This sounded more... Pop? Much more like something he'd hear July singing on a day she was in a particularly good mood. Or something July’s elderly mother, the Pop Troll of the family might hum.

That's when they began to sing along, starting off slowly and gaining strength with each note. A large smile on their face as tears cascaded down their round cheeks. As if putting on the show of their lives. It was raw, and beautiful.

"She loves rock ‘n’ roll,

they said it's demons’ tongue,

She thinks they're too old.

They think she's too young,

And the battle lines are clearly drawn.”

“She's a wild one,

with an angel's face,

She's a lovely Troll in a state of grace,

When she was three years old on her daddy's knee,

He said you can be anythin’ you wanna be.

She's a wild one.

Runnin' free."

“She has future plans,

and dreams at night,

they tell her life is hard,

she smiles, sayin’ “that’s alright”, yeah!”

“She’s a wild one,

With an angel’s face,

She’s a lovely Troll in a state of grace,

When she was three years old on her daddy’s knee,

He said you can be anythin’ you wanna be.

She’s a wild one.

Runnin’ free.”

"She's a wild one”~~

"~~Runnin' free.”  July finished and sobbed the last line.

"That was the song I wrote for your Mama... all them years ago..My Bloo. My little ‘Bloo-Jay’ came home!"

Hickory stood fully aside now, allowing the two to embrace, for what he now had realized had been the first time in more than two decades. An embrace that both warmed and broke your heart, all at the same time. This was July's pride and joy. Her niece. Bloo, the only child of July's older sister June.

June and July were extremely close sisters. Best friends even.

June was a very free spirited Troll who fancied herself a part-time singer at one of the local bars in town. On one of these trips to town, she met a traveling Rock Troll by the name of Ziggy. Busking for food and drink. Let's just say, it didn't take long at all until wedding bells were ringing and Ziggy was part of the happy family here on the Ranch. The couple waited a while before having a Trolling. The two were busy enjoying married life, Ziggy took June traveling, fulfilling her dreams of seeing life outside Lonesome Flats. And wherever they went, they were singing up a storm. When they returned home to settle down, at any bar or club, or bingo hall that would have them, they continued singing their hearts out. Occasionally even dragging July along. The three of them became inseparable. Especially after Bloo was born. The townsfolk even seemed to warm up to the entire, oddball family. It was all turning up roses for the family finally, after what felt like ages of trying to live in harmony. But it all came to a crushing end. 

Shortly after Bloo turned five years old, a serious, contagious illness spread throughout Lonesome Flats. Most folks who caught it, eventually recovered, but there were eight fatalities in the end. June was one of them. The family was torn to pieces by June’s passing. Ziggy just wasn't the same Troll after. A year passed and just as they thought things might slowly start looking up, Ziggy and Bloo were gone.

Apparently he had packed himself and Bloo up one night, and just left without a word. July knew he had family back home in Volcano Rock City, and figured that is where he would take Bloo to raise them. But July dared not go there. For good reason. A Pop-Country Troll, travel to Volcano Rock City?  Demand her niece back from a heartbroken father? While leaving her extremely elderly parents to fend for themselves? No. July would be turned away or torn to pieces. King Thrash at the time was feared for good reason in those days and most Trolls feared Rock Trolls the most out of all the other Tribes.

July and her folks basically moved on by learning to mourn the loss of June, Bloo, and Ziggy. They never expected to ever see Bloo or Ziggy again. Yet here Bloo was. Embracing their aunt, while Hickory and Messy looked on fondly. His smile grew wider as he realized how overjoyed July's folks: Clay and May, would be to see their grand-baby again. Something they thought they'd never live to see.

He could see it now that he got a better look at Bloo, as they were bombarded with kisses and hugs, that they did share a little resemblance to their Pop-Country Aunt. Though without a doubt, they took after their father Ziggy the most. No wonder Bloo wasn't easily recognizable at first glance, they looked so different in comparison to how they looked back then as a Trolling.

Who would have thought that he'd meet the Troll who's childhood pictures adorned the home he and his brother were staying in? Which happened to be Bloo's Old family home on the Ranch. The same house they had stopped to stare at on their way to the main house.

"Small world we live in!” He barked with laughter.

"Welcome home Miss Bloo, glad to meetcha." And he meant it, whole heartedly.

"Glad to be home again.”

END.

(Song used was Faith Hill’s ‘Wild One’. Tweaked for this story)

[sage-nebula]

alright then I'M ASKING hey i'm actually wondering. i'm going off vague memories of what you've characterized his parents as, but would "Liam" have grown up with a similar lack of self-worth b/c he would have grown up with at least one parent who wasn't ready to have him and thusly might have been unintentionally (or even intentionally) neglectful? i'm saying possibly either physically and/or emotionally 'cause. iirc his parents or at least his mother was really not ready for him or something?

Mmmhm, you’ve got it partially right! You have a good memory.

Neither of his parents were ready to have him. The huge background post is here, but the part you’re remembering is: 

Either way, neither Lucia or Sebastian cared. They were seventeen (perhaps nearing eighteen), they were in love, they were strong trainers in their own right—

And they were also careless, and Lucia got pregnant.

That put the traveling plans on hold. Like, they had so many things they wanted to do; they wanted to go so many different regions, see so many different things. But Lucia was pregnant, and while she could travel for some of the pregnancy, near the end of the pregnancy she would need to take it easy. And then the baby would be born, and they’d have to take care of it. They couldn’t exactly gallivant around being teenagers while carting around an infant, could they? This led to a lot of debate, arguing, and fighting; neither of them could really make up their minds on what to do. They considered going to Sebastian’s family, but they knew that his family would pressure them to keep the baby (and get married et cetera) and they weren’t sure they wanted to do that. And telling Lucia’s family was out of the question, because they would be apoplectic if they found out that she was pregnant out of wedlock, and so young, at that. Lucia did not want to deal with that. She did not want to have to explain to them just how she was pregnant. (Like, they know how pregnancy works, but that’s what Lucia didn’t want to divulge.)

[…]

Lucia had the baby—their son—and she felt … nothing when he was born. Or, well—she did feel something, but that something was anxiety. Fear. She didn’t know what to do. She started crying when she saw him because she had a baby now, she was eighteen and she had a baby and what were they going to do? Sebastian tried to calm her down, like—okay, they had a baby, but they loved each other, they could be a family—but she just kept crying. And she cried even more when she realized that this didn’t really end her self-imposed exile from her family, because it’s not like the baby was going to go away now that she had given birth to him. If she brought him to her parents at any point she would have to explain him, and how could she do that? They’d be furious at any point. She couldn’t tell them. It didn’t matter how many years she waited. She gave up her whole family for him, and how was that fair?

Both Lucia and Sebastian thought that, in time, Lucia’s feelings would change, but they didn’t. In truth, she most likely had postpartum depression. Like, she had legitimate concerns (being a teen mother, missing her family, et cetera), but the lack of a bond that she felt toward her son, the resentment she felt toward him because he was “keeping her” from her family, the fact that she felt overwhelmed and anxious constantly … those were all likely caused by postpartum depression. And Sebastian, too, was overwhelmed and stressed out, both because he wasn’t ready to be a father any more than Lucia was ready to be a mother, and because Lucia was so depressed and upset 24/7. As much as they tried to raise their son, whom they had named Liam, they just found themselves completely miserable and unable to handle it.

So within three months, they decided to give him up for adoption.

In this AU, all of that stays except for the last line. For although neither of them were ready to be parents, although Lucia had post-partum depression, although Sebastian was equally as overwhelmed, stressed out, and upset … in this AU, rather than deciding to give him up for adoption (or, as what ends up actually happening, abandoning him in a forest because Lucia was too ashamed to ask Isolé to take him and Sebastian wasn’t there), they instead ended up agreeing to take him to Lucia’s family, to go and face the music and confess to her parents what happened. I imagine that it would be Sebastian’s idea, and his convincing her that would make this happen. Lucia was downright terrified of telling her parents, but Shalour City was much closer to where they were than Dendemille Town, and since Lucia’s family was better off financially, they would be able to provide better financial assistance for Liam (or, if it came to it, better resources to help Lucia and Sebastian find adoptive parents for him). Telling Lucia’s family first made the most sense, and so that’s what they ended up doing. They gathered their belongings, gathered their baby son, and made their way (in shame, in Lucia’s eyes) back to her family in Shalour City.

Spoiler alert: Her family was, as she predicted, not happy. 

As explained in the original post, there are several primary things to know about Lucia’s side of the family:

They are descended from the Blackthorn dragon clan in Johto (back when it used to still be part of Kanto), and though those who came from that clan / region were young when they (accidentally) immigrated to Kalos, they still carried that sense of pride and dignity with them, taking it perhaps even more seriously than they would have had they been older when they made the journey.

They ended up amassing a large amount of wealth over the generations.

Points one and two mean that they tend to place a lot of importance on honor and propriety, and tend to be traditionalists. 

All of this means that Lucia’s parents were, of course, the opposite of thrilled to see their daughter come home with a child born out of wedlock, particularly since said child’s father comes from a less than impressive background. (Like, Sebastian’s family has been in Dendemille Town for generations, but they’re decidedly middle class, and Lucia’s upper class parents and extended relatives have some definite classist tendencies, at least as far as their expectations go for potential suitors for their daughter.) At the same time, though, their beliefs prevented them from tossing Lucia and her newfound family out on the street, particularly when it came to Liam. He was a bastard (as in the original definition of the word), yes, but he was still only a baby, and technically a descendant of the dragon clan. Even if his birth was less than they’d want from a scion, he was still technically …

Lucia’s family laid down some stipulations, of course. There was no helping that Liam was a bastard, there was no changing that, but they were still of the opinion that Lucia and Sebastian should be married as soon as possible.

(“That’s one belief you’d likely have in common with my folks,” Sebastian said in an effort to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.)

They also wanted Lucia, Sebastian, and Liam to all live in the main house, so that they could ensure that Liam was raised properly (“Or at least as properly as he can be, given his … stock”). Lucia, as might be expected, was very against all of this, particularly since she had never particularly agreed with her parents’ classism (even if she does have that unwanted pregnancy shame stigma stamped into the fibres of her being), but given the situation, what could she do but agree? Sebastian wasn’t happy about it, either—he had wanted to avoid telling his own parents because he didn’t want to be rushed into marriage with Lucia (not that he doesn’t want to marry her, per se, but he’d rather it be a decision they mutually came to rather than one their parents and a baby forced on them)—but even he agreed that they didn’t have much choice. Neither have them had any income, they didn’t know what to do for jobs, they couldn’t travel and be trainers so long as they had Liam to think about and take care of, they had already told Lucia’s parents, and so on and so forth. What else was there to do but let the older adults take care of things, since they were still technically teenagers (just older teenagers) flying by the seats of their pants?

So, Lucia and Sebastian got married. Even after notifying Sebastian’s family and explaining the whole situation, they agreed to live in the main house (albeit in their own wing—and Lucia personally felt that this was a punishment and exile even as her parents told her to stop being so dramatic, “although perhaps you should have thought about things like punishment and exile before you were so irresponsible and rebellious”), and so that’s where Liam grew up: In the same house with his grandparents (and some other extended relatives), the illegitimate heir to a dragon clan family in Shalour City.

And SO, with all of that foundation laid:

As mentioned several times, Liam is technically his parents’ bastard son, because even though they did end up getting married as a result of pressure from both sides of their family (since they both come from conservative families, as noted and can be told), they still weren’t married when he was born, and weren’t until several months after the fact. (Probably six or so? They took him back to Shalour City when he was three months old, and it no doubt took at least some time to set up the wedding.) The fact that he’s an illegitimate child is a fact he is very aware of, even from a young age. His maternal grandparents, despite disapproving of his birth (and by extension his existence), still wanted to make sure that he was raised in a way that wouldn’t be a disgrace to the family, and so at one point when he was young, Liam overheard them lecturing Lucia on how to raise him, saying something like, “Just because he is a bastard doesn’t mean he has to have the manners of one.” 

Liam’s maternal grandparents, as you could imagine, tend to be rather cold toward him. Not cruelly so; any real disgust or ire they have is typically saved for Lucia and Sebastian (especially Sebastian, actually; they never warm up to him and blame him more than Lucia for what happened). But they still view him not only as living, breathing proof that their daughter failed to live up to even the lowest expectations and hopes they had for her, but also as their part of the family tree ending in disgrace. They’re reminded of that every time they look at him, and it absolutely affects how they treat him (even if mostly subconsciously), in the sense that they’re quite aloof toward him even as they make sure he has excellent tutors, make sure he’s provided for in any way that money could provide for a child, occasionally instruct him in terms of propriety and manners, et cetera. Like, he’s still a dragon clan heir even if he’s an illegitimate one, and so they’re going to make sure he’s raised as such. He’s still one of theirs, despite the disappointment of his birth. So they’re not outright harsh or cruel to him, they make sure he’s provided for, they try to keep any remarks on his illegitimate background out of earshot, and their aloof behavior tends to be mostly subconscious and not intentional … but it’s something that he, even as a child, can pick up on nonetheless (especially when he overhears comments like the “just because he is a bastard” one).

That said, it’s possible that they could (and possibly even do) try to pressure Lucia and Sebastian to have another child once they’re married. Of course, that child would still have the same stock as Liam, given Sebastian—but at least this one would be a legitimate heir (or at least more legitimate than Liam). Lucia, I think, would refuse out of spite more than anything else (as well as because she feels that having one child landed her in this position, so how much better would a second be?). Sebastian might want another child at some point, but again, not because parents on either side wanted it.

To that end, the way that Lucia and Sebastian regard or treat Liam is … honestly not that stellar either, particularly when it comes to Lucia. 

Lucia in particular goes from not feeling a bond with her son and feeling low-key resentment toward him for cutting her off from her family, to outright resenting him because of how upset her parents are with her. She knows this is wrong, and she tells Sebastian (over and over and over again) that she knows that this is wrong, and in truth her feelings flip-flop a lot, in that she’ll strongly resent Liam in one moment, but then not two hours later will feel protective over or fond of him. This is especially true as he grows, and Lucia grows more and more used to the fact that “this is her life now,” but even that feeling never truly sets in, and she often dreams of the life she could have had instead. She does love Liam (to some extent, at least), but if we were going to compare her love for him and her resentment of him in percentages, it’s probably 60% resentment and 40% love. She does, ultimately, wish she had never gotten pregnant (at least right then, at least not like that—she feels she would love him wholly had she had him later in life, when she and Sebastian were more prepared). There is probably at least one time, in a very heated moment, when this slips out. To be honest, it might even be more than once.

Sebastian, too, wishes that they had Liam later in life, when they were more prepared, et cetera. As things settle down he becomes more accustomed to “this is how things are” than Lucia, but it helps that they aren’t living with his parents, that his parents tend to be a bit more understanding anyway (though they’re not pleased that Sebastian and Lucia chose to stay in Shalour), and that even though Lucia’s parents hate him far more than they could ever hate Lucia (and to be clear, they don’t hate Lucia, they’re just extremely disappointed in her), it’s not as if their opinion of him ever mattered that much to him. So it’s easier for him than it is for Lucia, and that lessens the resentment some … but the fact that his life was still ultimately decided by this, and the fact that it is hard on Lucia, wears on him. He figures, though, that the best way to handle this is just to have Liam be raised to be the best heir that he can be, so he mostly tries to stay out of the way and lets Liam’s grandparents + Lucia handle most of that. He loves Liam, but he’s not really willing to go to bat for him, at least in the sense that he’s not going to disagree with what Liam’s grandparents say in terms of his lessons, tutors, dress code, et cetera.

That said, despite the mixed feelings the two of them have toward him, they both tend to be rather protective, at least in the “we’re not going to trust you to go out into the world and make mistakes like we did” sense. However his grandparents want him raised is one thing, but Lucia tends to swing between “this is life now” and “no, he’s my son and so I will make all the decisions,” and Sebastian feels that this entire experience has aged him and made him wiser, and certainly wiser than the child he unintentionally helped bring into this world, so to that end they both have tendencies to be overprotective, overbearing, and somewhat controlling, even if in different ways (or rather, about different things) than his grandparents.

SO WITH ALL OF THAT SAID, LIAM …

As mentioned, he’s very, very aware of the fact that he’s a bastard son, and that this doesn’t make his maternal grandparents happy, and that even though he’s one of the dragon clan, he’s not quite as much of an accepted heir to the dragon clan as, say, perhaps, some of his cousins. (The fact that his grandparents potentially want his parents to have a second child “the right way this time” and that he might be aware of this doesn’t help matters either. He’s not quite enthused at the idea of a younger sibling because of these circumstances, as you might imagine.) This awareness that he has, that he has to work twice (maybe even thrice) as hard to gain approval, that he’ll potentially never fully have it and never truly be good enough no matter how hard he works, has given him something of a “WITNESS ME” complex, in the sense that sometimes he wants the approval, and other times he doesn’t want it at all, and still other times he figures that he’ll make his own way someday and, one way or another, they’ll have no choice but to acknowledge him, positively or not. He’s definitely got a defiant streak in him, which comes down to him having the soul of a dragon regardless of the timeline he’s in.

He’s still extraordinarily intelligent and, though the word can carry negative connotations, “gifted”. This is excellent news in his tutors’ eyes, and even his grandparents feel that, “Well, despite the odds being stacked against him, at least he has that going for him.” Unfortunately, rather than being given the freedom to learn what he pleased (so long as he had the basics down) and having his curiosity nurtured, he was given an extremely strict tutoring regimen (and one with constantly raised stakes given what he could do, because his grandparents felt that if he accomplished one task too easily, then that meant he needed to have the challenge increased), which made academics a chore and not something he looked forward to, particularly when his achievements were looked upon as expected results rather than … well, achievements. He still likes knowing things and is still naturally curious, but he isn’t even nine before he decides that he abhors his lessons, hates academia, and feels that it’s all a waste of time because he’s better served learning things his own way. So, rather than the nerd who loves research and gets super excited at new discoveries, we instead have a child who, on some occasions, has to be dragged to his lessons by his shirt collar as he desperately tries to get out of them (because they’re either too easy or too ridiculous with the added challenges, and either way it’s not as if anyone will be impressed with his performance, so why must he suffer through them, et cetera).

He has that “WITNESS ME” complex going on with his maternal grandparents, but his relationship with his parents is similarly complicated. As you guessed, Lucia tends to be rather neglectful at least half the time, figuring that her parents are handling whatever it is Liam needs (and they are, in terms of clothes, food, et cetera), and that he’s fine otherwise, and if he isn’t, she … can’t exactly muster up the will to provide. She still tries to look after him sometimes, particularly if she’s feeling resentful and rebellious of her parents instead of her son that particular day, but emotionally she still tends to swing between “trying but not always succeeding” and “not trying at all.” Again, there is still 40% love there, but … it’s 40%. That’s not a lot. And Liam feels that emotional distance from his mother just as he feels it from his grandparents. He’s not stupid.And as far as Sebastian goes, he’s probably more in the 50% / 50% range (or maybe 40% distance and resentment, 60% love range on a good day), but as mentioned, he won’t go to bat for Liam, and the ways in which he is protective and “tries to be there” are ways that Liam doesn’t want (which I’ll get to in a second). So Liam still feels that his father isn’t really there for him either (and he’s not entirely wrong).So with all of that said, he’s not constantly feeling a need to prove himself to his parents as he feels with his maternal grandparents (he wouldn’t even know where to start, since their issue with him is different from his grandparents’ issue with him), but he does’t feel close to them at all. When he was smaller this bothered him a lot, but as he grows older he forces himself (as best he can) to accept it. At least he has parents, he supposes, even if they’re … like this.

As you could guess, he grows up quite lonely, despite living in a big house full of people (his family, sure, but also serving staff and the like—remember, Lucia’s family is rich). He’s completely provided for financially, but since he has tutors, he doesn’t go to school to make any friends. His parents and grandparents are aloof toward him at best. He tries to befriend the staff, but there’s a barrier there given that he’s the heir(?), even if he doesn’t want there to be a barrier there. And since the entire fucking family knew that he was illegitimate from the time he was three months old, he has been a central point of gossip even before he could understand the words that were coming out of their mouths, and so that even put major dents in his relationships with his extended relatives. (So like, he’s not exactly friends with his cousins, because, “My daddy said you’re actually a commoner, because your daddy is one, which means you are, too” doesn’t exactly make for great friendships.) He doesn’t feel that he has anyone who genuinely cares about him as anything more than a potential heir (and doesn’t even know, on most days, if he even wants to be the heir, because as much as he actually is interested in his family history and thinks it’s cool to learn about—as much as he does want to journey to Blackthorn City, Johto when he’s older to examine his roots—he’s not sure that being proud of his dragon clan heritage necessitates that he inherit everything his maternal grandparents have), that even his own parents resent the fact that he was even born, and he’s just … lonely, and depressed, and honestly feels that there’s a piece of his life that’s just missing. This feeling increases more and more as he grows older, and specifically as he nears his tenth birthday, and so in the weeks leading up to that he decides he’s going to take matters into his own hands.After he turns ten, he leaves so that he can go get himself a pokémon.

Both Lucia and Sebastian are heavily against Liam becoming a trainer. As mentioned above, they tend to be very protective / overbearing / controlling of him insofar as his life choices go. They let his maternal grandparents (for the most part) control how he’s raised in terms of manners and the like—they allow his grandparents to plan out his wardrobe and hire his tutors and all that—but the way they see it, they thought they knew everything when they were young, and look where it got them. They don’t want Liam making the same mistakes. They don’t want him getting into trouble in similar ways. On top of that, it’s possible that they’ve met with Olympia at some point, and—I’m not entirely sure how her powers of foresight work, if she can only see the future of the timeline she’s in, or perhaps if sometimes her visions get criss-crossed. But it’s possible that she either saw a vision of the future from the Prime Timeline (where Alan is taken into Lysandre’s service), or potentially that similar disaster could befall him in this one (although I don’t think Lysandre would be at all interested in a boy who had no connection to Sycamore or mega evolution), and that she warned Lucia and Sebastian of this. Even if their love for their son is only in the 40% - 60% range (maybe higher, give or take the day), they still don’t want him to fall into anything horrible or dangerous, and so that would be all the more reason for them to give a hard “no” and “not until you’re much older” stipulations for him when he brings the idea up that he wants to go on a pokémon journey to them.“Everyone else is allowed to journey when they turn ten,” he argues. “That’s the legal age for obtaining a License. I should be allowed to—” “You are not everyone else. You’re our son—”“And you don’t make all the decisions for me. Grandmother, could I—”“I’m afraid I’m not sure, Liam. Could you?”“… May I apply for a License to go on a pokémon journey?”“No. For once, your mother is correct. She was not prepared to leave when she did, and neither are you.”“That’s not—!”“My decision is final. There will be no more discussion of this tonight.”His grandmother’s opinion could not be swayed, and his grandfather agreed with his grandmother, and for once his parents were on the same page. So naturally, that left Liam with only one option.

He ran away.(I mean, what, did you expect him to just lie down and take that? Please.)

He has never had the lessons necessary to successfully pass the License exam, but he figures he can take care of that bridge once he gets to it. He leaves in the middle of the night, putting as much distance between himself and Shalour City as possible. In truth, he has not put much research into this, pretty much at all, but he knows enough to know that Professor Sycamore in Lumiose City distributes pokémon to new trainers, so he figures he can go ask there. And if Professor Sycamore says no, he figures he can just catch himself a wild one. It can’t be that difficult, he figures. People capture pokémon all the time. He will figure it out.

Of course, Shalour City is quite a distance away from Lumiose, through various terrain, and he has no pokémon to protect himself with. What he does have is a map and a backpack full of Repels that he took from home, as well as a good chunk of cash that he also took from home which he uses to pay some random trainers he meets into letting him hitch along with them as they go to Lumiose City. (He probably wouldn’t have had to pay them, to be honest, because they were already going in that direction and he’s a kid who has no means of defending himself … but he offered the cash upfront and they weren’t about to say no.) Through a combination of all of these factors he does make it successfully to Lumiose, even with both of his parents in hot pursuit because they can guess well enough where he disappeared to, and they’re not intending to just let him run off and become a trainer that easily. Not when he (in their esteemed opinion) has no idea of what he’s doing, or getting into, and has every chance of making the same mistakes (if not worse ones) than they did.

As for all the details of what happens when he gets to the lab (because he does make it there) … well, I have a few ideas in mind for that, and I kind of want to write a fic for it. All I will say is that, when he gets there, there’s a little baby charmander there that’s only a few weeks old (at most), that’s so tiny and doesn’t even have his fangs yet, and even though that’s not a standard Kalosean starter and it’s really inadvisable to take such a baby, he decides that’s the one he has to have (besides, he’s dragon clan—shouldn’t his partner be a dragon?). This little baby, in another timeline (a Prime one), is named Lizardon. Here, though … Liam probably goes for the name Shounetsu (Shou for short) instead. It’s written with the kanji 焦 (char, burn, scorch, singe) and 熱 (passion). His dragon clan family upbringing, I think, would lead him toward a more traditional Johtoan name like that. Alternatively, he might just translate it to Inferno, to make it easier for others to get the meaning. Either-or, I haven’t decided yet.

Either way, those are the headcanons I have so far (aside from everything I kind of want to put into the fic, heh). But while they’re the same person (albeit from different timelines), Liam turns out quite a bit differently from Alan, as you can see. Like, there are of course similarities there (their nature is the same, after all—it’s the nurture where they differ), but their different life experiences led them to … well, turn out differently. And all in all, though Liam never lost his birth family, though he grew up around them … I daresay that, at least for the seven years that he was raised in Lumiose, Alan is the one who ultimately ended up having the happier childhood.

Funny how these things work out.