#figuring out character relations and interactions are my favorite part of writing

[wellgoslowly]

Hello! I love reading your stories and I was wondering if I could get a request please. It’s for Lockwood and Co. One day, Lockwood stumbled into a small bookstore because it was raining and there he finds the reader (and her dog, a boxer please) who owns the bookstore and they start talking and the reader doesn’t think anything about it (because she talks to all her customers the same way) but Lockwood starts showing up more often at the bookstore to just to talk to her and slowly but surely they start falling for each other. Thank you so much!!!

Bookstore Girl

a/n: this is by far the longest request I've written to date! I'm very proud of it and I'd defo be interested in writing a part two. I also just love me a good bookstore romance so this was super fun to write! i listened to the song bookstore girl by charlie burg a lot while writing this!! also there's quite a bit of tea related discussions and I have never made tea so pls don't scream at me I am simply american and unexperienced.

pairing: lockwood × fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none

notices: a character in this oneshot uses neopronouns [ey/em]!! if you don’t know what they are, please check this out- and if you don’t support people who use neopronouns, do not interact. If you comment hate, you will be blocked. neopronoun users are valid and loved on my blog, and I won’t tolerate hate of any kind. if you use neoprouns- know that I love you and you will always have a place in my writing (as a person who goes by they/she/ey)

tags: @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot @givemea-dam-break @tangledinlove @neewtmas @losticaruss @waitingforthesunrise [if yall want to be tagged when I post requests, lmk in the comments! also sorry if I forgot anyone!!]

It was a slow, rainier-than-normal London afternoon when you first met Anthony Lockwood.

“Hi there… Would you happen to have anywhere I could sit and… dry off?” You had been shelving what was left of a new shipment of classics you had just received when you’d heard a distressed patron behind you. “Oh yes, of course.” You said as you turned to face the customer, suppressing a laugh at the sight before you. A handsome figure stood behind you, their dark long coat absolutely dripping as they wrapped it around themselves, trying to salvage some sense of warmth. “We have a cafe in the back, follow me… and try not to drip too much.” You joked, and goddamn, of course the pretty customer had a pretty laugh.

“Apologies, uh… ma'am.” He said, noticing the pronoun pin on the strap of your apron. “I was just walking home and the storm came out of nowhere and one of my roommates broke my umbrella last week… long story.” They explained as you led them to the small cafe situated in the rear of the store. “Would you like anything? Cocoa, Tea?” You offered as they sat down at a small table near the entryway. “Oh, tea would be perfect, thank you.” They spoke, and you couldn’t help but notice the rapier attached to their hip as the sheath scraped gently across the hardwood floor.

“How do you take it?” Nellie, your best friend, business partner, and head barista, asked from behind the counter. “Hm- surprise me. However you take it is fine.” The customer said with a smile. You slipped behind the counter, brushing past Nellie as ey flitted about looking for the secret stash of eir favorite tea that ey always keep hidden, only taking from it on “special occasions”. Nellie winked at you as you slipped into the backroom, looking for the spare blanket you always keep back there for cold winter days. You rolled your eyes and shooed Nellie away, causing em to laugh. Finding the soft reserve blanket, you turned to take it to the sopping wet customer, only to find Nellie blocking your way.

“What are you doing?” Nellie asked, a slightly mischievous glint in eir eyes. “Getting our dripping wet customer a blanket. Why?” You asked, suspicious of Nellie’s train of thought. “He’s nice. Asked me my pronouns and told me he goes by he/him. He’s pretty cute too.” You scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?” You laughed, causing Nellie to roll eir eyes at you. “You never let anyone use your blanket, not even me.” You laughed again. “Yeah, Nellie, well, you’re never sopping wet when you ask. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to our customer.” You say, brushing past Nellie and ignoring eir laughter as you walked out of the backroom.

When you returned to the main floor, you noticed that the customer was no longer alone. “Bruce, leave the poor guy alone.” You laughed, watching as your dog, a Boxer, jumped up, front paws landing on the customer’s lap as the customer laughed. “It’s not a problem, honestly. He’s quite cute.” You smiled, handing the blanket to the customer, who took it with a soft “thank you” and an appreciative smile.

“I'm glad you think so. Some of our older patrons don't like that we have a dog around, but I could care less.” You say, bending down slightly to pet Bruce on the head as he jumped down from the customer's lap. “Is he yours?” The customer asked as he wrapped the blanket around his body. You nodded, sitting down at a chair opposite the patron.

“Yep. This place, too.” You said with a cheerful smile as Bruce jumped into your lap. “Oh! I had no clue I was in the presence of the owner.” You laughed, scratching behind Bruce's ears. “No, I'm serious, that's really cool. I run my own business too, but it's not… quite like this.” He chuckled, almost to himself, glancing down at the rapier on his hip.

“Wait- you run your own agency?” You asked, intrigued. You had vaguely heard of agents running their own agencies, but you hadn't necessarily believed that someone your age was capable of running something like that. And yet it kind of made sense, taking in his appearance- the long coat, white button down, black tie, and slightly too-tight pants gave the desired effect of making him look slightly older and a bit more authoritative.

He smiled and stuck out his hand. “Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co, at your service. Most people just call me Lockwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand in turn as Bruce grumpily whined at the loss of your hand. “[Name], of Read Rose Books. Pleasure to meet you, Lockwood. You know, I think I've heard of you. You did the Annabelle Ward Case a while back, right?” He nodded, a sparkle appearing in his eye at your mentioning of hearing of his agency. “Yes, that was us. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, [name].”

“And I'm Nellie.” Nellie had a knack for sneaking up on you at the worst times, and that day was no exception as Nellie had somehow crept up behind you without a sound. ~~The customer~~ Lockwood himself didn't seem to notice Nellie's presence, jumping about 3 feet in the air at eir arrival. Nellie set down Lockwood's tea, and he thanked em before taking a sip.

“Oh my god, this is amazing.” He said, turning to Nellie. “How did you do that? I've never tasted anything like it before.” You could see Nellie beam at Lockwood's praise, and you couldn't help but smile. “Secret recipe” was all Nellie said before ey flounced back behind the counter.

Lockwood chuckled, taking another sip. “George- one of my housemates, would love em. He's really into cooking too- makes all sorts of elaborate meals that always taste amazing.” You chuckled, looking back at Nellie. “Even I don't know what Nellie puts in there- ey've never told me.”

“If there's anyone who could get the recipe out of Nellie, it's George. He's an insanely good cook, and he loves tea more than the average person.” You both laughed softly before Lockwood spoke up again.

“Speaking of George, do you have a phone I could use to call home? Just to tell my housemates where I am.” “Oh, of course! Follow me.” With a distressed whine from Bruce, who had to depart from your lap, you got up off you chair and led a blanket-clad Lockwood over to the front desk, where your store phone was located. “Thank you so much, I should be quick.” He said, picking the phone up. “Don't worry about it, take as much time as you need.” You assured him. “I'll be right over there stocking some classics if you need me.” He nodded, and you walked back to where you had been dutifully stocking the beautiful new editions of Pride and Prejudice, making a mental note to leave one aside to purchase later for your own personal collection.

You were still within earshot, so you could hear most of the conversation that Lockwood was having (not that you were purposefully eavesdropping, of course- it was very quiet in the store so it was very hard to try and not hear his conversation. You did try, though.) Lockwood's conversation started with a “Hi George, I wanted to let you know that I'm ok-” before Lockwood was promptly cut off by a loud voice shouting at him, causing Lockwood to jump and have to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment.

“Hello to you too, Luce. Look, I'm fine- I got caught in the storm and *someone* broke my umbrella on that case last week so I had to seek shelter before it got too bad. Don't worry- I'm at that bookstore in town… The one George has been wanting to check out? Read Rose? The staff has been very nice and helped me to warm back up but I'm not sure when I'll be able to come home with how the storm is going.” A moment of silence followed as someone- Lucy, you assumed- spoke to Lockwood. The quiet was broken only by the sound of books being pushed into their respective slots on the shelves.

“No, no, Lucy, you are not coming to get me. I don't care if you broke my umbrella, I won't allow you to walk over here in the rain- Lucy? Lucy?!” And then Lockwood let out a frustrated sigh and put the phone back down on the receiver. You looked back up at him, stifling a laugh at his exasperated expression. “I guess one of my housemates is coming to retrieve me.” He laughed, running a hand through his still-wet hair as he looked outside at the still raging storm. “From what I could hear, they sound very stubborn.” He chuckled. “Oh, she is. Lucy is insanely stubborn, believe me.” You laughed, liking the picture you were putting together in your head of this Lucy already. “To be fair, something tells me you're fairly stubborn yourself.” You chuckled. Lockwood gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “You wound me.” He said, and you both fell in to laughter.

Your laughs subsided after a moment, and you fell into a comfortable silence as you stocked and Lockwood walked around, perusing the aisles of books. You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and you had never been more content to just be quiet with someone before. “Now I understand why George has been bugging me to visit here for so long. We haven't had much time- cases have been piling up so George is either at home or at the Archives most of the time these days.” You nodded in understanding as he took a book off a shelf near you and examined the cover.

“I get it. Not the agency work- I don't have any Talents. The stress, I mean. My grandmother owned this place and passed it down to me when she passed. Every day there's something new to take care of or a new problem that comes up.” You laughed as you put the last book on the shelf. Lockwood laughed as well. “I know exactly what you mean. You love it though, don't you?” He asked, turning to you. He smiled as your eyes met his, and you gave him a smile in return. “Yeah,” You said softly. “I really do.”

He grinned, and was opening his mouth to say something when there was a sudden noise at the door, and then there was a borderline soaked girl holding an umbrella standing breathless in the doorway. This must be Lucy, you thought to yourself. She was obviously righteously pissed, her hair dripping as she tried desperately to control the bangs that were matted to her forehead. “Lockwood, you idiot.” She said, shoving the umbrella at Lockwood and turning to face you. She sent a look Lockwood's way, which you translated to say something like “who is this?”. Lockwood smiled.

“Lucy, this is [name], owner of Read Rose Books. She and her friend Nellie have been very welcoming and helped me to get warm. [Name], this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle.” Lucy rolled her eyes, elbowing Lockwood in the ribs and whispering something like “you can just introduce me as your friend, you dickhead” before she turned her attention to you, smiled, and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You did, softly saying “nice to meet you”, as did Lucy. “Thank you for taking care of this one.” Lucy said after your handshake had ended, pointing to Lockwood. You laughed. “It was no problem at all, really.”

Lockwood moved to return the blanket you you, but you refused. “You need it more than I do. Just make sure to return it whenever you can, ok?” He smiled appreciatively, nodding in understanding before Lucy grabbed him by the arm ans hauled him to the door. “Thank you again!” Lockwood yelled at the same time Lucy said “Have a nice night!”, and then they were out the door and the shop was silent again.

Nellie was there within seconds, pressing a warm cup of cocoa into your hand. “I'm never getting that blanket back, am I?” You asked em softly. “Probably not, no.” Ey agreed.

---

It was a week until you saw Anthony Lockwood again.

It was sunny outside this time, and you had a pretty nice crowd going inside the small Read Rose venue. You were just finishing up a customer's transaction, barely had the words “have a good one” out of your mouth, when you saw him enter the store. He had on the same outfit, but his hair was more styled, in a totally not attractive way. He was entering the shop with someone who you didn't recognize. They were slightly shorter, with brown skin and curly dark hair and glasses.

You noticed the second that Lockwood found you, watching his eyes light up and a smile form on his face as he waved. You waved back and returned the smile when you saw what Lockwood was carrying in his left hand.

“I was thinking I'd never see that blanket again.” You joked as Lockwood and his companion walked up to the front counter. Lockwood chuckled. “I see how little faith you have in me.” He spoke as he passed the blanket over to you. “Well, she's not exactly unfounded. Remember that time I leant you a sweatshirt and I didn't get it back for a month?” You laughed as you placed the folded blanket on a shelf beneath the counter, not seeing Lockwood sharply elbow his companion in the ribs.

“Anyways, [Name], this is my best friend and business associate, George Karim. He's the one I told you about that's really good at cooking. ” You reached out your hand for George to shake, but he ignored it and turned to examine your store. Within seconds, he was walking away to an aisle that had caught his eye, leaving you behind with Lockwood as you yelled out a rushed, “it was nice to meet you!”

Lockwood smiled apologetically. “Don't mind him. He's au- he can be a bit brash, but he's a good guy, once you get to know him.” You smiled back as you waved your hand in a dismissing manner. “Don't worry about it. I hope I do. Get to know him, that is. Lockwood & Co. seems like a very fun bunch.”

All Lockwood could do was smile before George returned, informing you that they would be back soon but they had a case that night that they had to prepare for. You nodded in understanding. “I'll look forward to your next visit. Be safe out there.” One last dazzling smile from Lockwood and he was gone, being borderline pushed outside by George as you laughed.

---

It went on like that for weeks- at least once a week, Anthony Lockwood would wander into your shop, only once or twice actually buying a book. You got to know each other fairly well- you learned that he hated sugar in his tea, that he always wore pink socks, that he didn't always wear suits, and that he started wearing [favorite color] ties whenever he came to visit after you told him it was your favorite color.

You learned that his favorite genres were classics and mystery (and that he had a bit of an obsession with gossip magazines). Often times, he would come in right before closing a couple times a week and sit and read with you to pass the time before you closed and walked you to your flat a block away.

Every time this happened, Nellie would leave work a half an hour before you and give you a set of totally non-subtle winks before flitting off into the sunset. Lockwood never seemed to notice eir suggestive winks, and if he did, he never appeared too flustered.

Nellie would corner you every morning after, grilling you for every detail. “Why do you even care?” You would say, laughing as you unlocked the storefront. “Because a super hot guy is obviously falling for my best friend!” Ey would exclaim, and you would roll your eyes and laugh it away, making sure to change the subject while you tried not to dwell on the possibility that Nellie was right.

---

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite bookseller. Do you ever take a day off?” You laughed from your perch on one of the bookshelf ladders, looking down to see Lockwood standing below you, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. You laughed. “Hi, Lockwood. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You bent over, grabbing a book to put up on the top shelf.

“I was sent by George to search for a book he was looking for.” Came the reply, not an uncommon excuse. You turned to reach for another book to stock, but you realized that Lockwood was holding out a book for you. “Thank you.” You said softly, and he looked up from the synopsis of a book in his hand to smile at you. “Of course. It seems you're a bit of a workaholic- I'd love to help in any way I can.” You laughed as you shelved the book.

“You're one to talk. Pretty much every time you come in here you've got that getup on and intense bags under your eyes.” You joked as you descended the ladder, taking the empty box from Lockwood's hands.

“Well, one needs to be a little bit obsessed to lead a top agency, don't they?” He asked, following you to the cafe. Nellie brightened as ey saw Lockwood trailing after you, calling out and asking if Lockwood wanted anything. “Yes, please, Nellie. Could you by any chance make your secret recipe tea to go? I really need to get going, but I was in the area and I just wanted to stop by.” Nellie smiled. “Aye aye, captain.” Ey said before they started the tea making process.

“I thought you came in to look for a book for George.” You said, turning to him with an eyebrow raised and a smile on your face. You giggled as you watched Lockwood flush. “Ah, yes, well, you see-” He was so caught up in his mumbling that he didn't realize that Nellie had appeared next to him, a bag in eir hand. “Jesus, Nellie.” Lockwood jumped, and Nellie chuckled. “Not Jesus- people do often get us confused.” Nellie joked before pushing the bag in front of him.

“What's this?” Lockwood asked, cocking a brow. "A gift for you, George and Lucy. For being such great patrons.” Lockwood smiled. “You really don't have to-” Lockwood started to speak, but Nellie interrupted him. “I insist.” Ey said before turning and running away before Lockwood could fight anymore.

Lockwood turned to you and scoffed. You chuckled. “Ey really like making baked goods for people.” You explained. Lockwood smiled, and the two of you lapsed into a comforting silence, taking in the slow crowd that filled in and out of Read Rose Books.

After a moment, Lockwood broke the silence. “Are you- would you be amenable to visiting Portland Row tonight?” His question caught you off guard, but you smiled nonetheless. “I could be convinced. Why? What's in Portland Row?” You asked, turning to look at him. He smiled softly, a soft flush dusting his cheeks. “Lockwood & Co. We just finished a pretty big successful case so we're throwing a small get together at the house, if you wanted to come?” He asked, and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. You smiled, nudging his shoulder as you turned to face away from him, trying to draw attention away from the blush that was slowly spreading across your face.

“I'd love to.”

eeeek thank you so much for reading!! pls leave feedback, it truly makes my day :) also if you want to request or see my other works, my masterlist is linked in my about me post which is pinned :)

I love you all so much, remember to stay hydrated, and I hope yall have an amazing day!!! mwah

xoxo linnie <3

[evablueblanket]

Will you tell me about an LU character you love and why you love them? Please please please ramble on and on! It's my favorite! I get so many fun ideas when people gush about their favorites.

I (think) I've said this before, but I am not the most analytical/observ person ever so most of what I say is probably kinda shallow :') BUT THIS IS MY RAMBLE SO OH WELL

Okay so recently, I've been on a Warriors kick. I just super love how like, everyone portrays him! Most see him as big brother shaped, which I super love. His background is just so vastly different than every other Link, which serves as a very cool contrast imo

The way @somer-writes makes Twi and Wars idiodic brothers is like, my favorite ever. I love love love LOVE how he writes Wars and Twi it's so insane the comedy that unfolds when they're just messing around xD

Warriors has this air, this *vibe* which I'm just super drawn too, I think it's just how my personality vs his works (you could theoretically draw *some* parallels with Sokka from ATLA, at least the way they each hold themselves I'd say. Also big bro stuff) (ALSO how both of them are portrayed as 'smart', which is a trait I typically relate too in characters)

When I like a character though, it's more based on the different types of relationships everyone writes them as though, I'd say. Wars and Time and Wind have this super intriguing bond that I think is cool to see how everyone interprets it! For the most part people write them as they're all aware of the War of Ages and whatnot, which lead to some nice fluff and/or angst. But when there's some time paradoxes, it makes it every so more tragic and it's really interesting to see how that can get written. I recall a fic (I FORGOT THE TITLE AND THE AUTHOR NOO) where Wars was teaching Wind medic stuff, but it was like a year before Wind meets Wars in the war. So Wars is all "sob this is why Wind is such a good medic? *Bc I taught him?*" THIS IS SO COOL AND INTERESTING

Also when there's War of Ages fics that have Time/Mask being a stupid child (/aff) they're just super hilarious. There's a series out there that has the Fierce Deity (sorry forgot the author again xD) act as Wars parent figure/older brother figure and it's just really funny to me bc ofc Wars would be a stupid overworking idiot. Loser smh

Four is also another one of the sillies that live in my brain, and I kinda wish there were more fics on how they interact. Though, if I'm being real idk how they really would cause they don't really have the same synergy as any other Links. I just like my favorites to interact, but I super understand how they wouldn't ^^

Small side bit on serious Wars (the biggest example is "Call Them Brothers" by wutheringmights which I'm almost 100% certain you've read that already cause it's soooo long and it's SO GOOD AHH) and ugh I wish I could pay attention more to get every complexity that this Wars has but the brain kinda hates me. I think it makes a lot of sense for Wars to have a grittier characterization, war does that to people. The entire fic is so visceral to me, I just vividly remember reading the flashback section about the long winter, and I don't even know how to really describe it xD

Wars has such a broad range of emotion, if one were to put him under and microscope and study him there would be SO MUCH.

HAVE I TALKED ABOUT THE AESTHETIC

HES THE FUCKING PRETTY BOY OF THE GROUP AND THAT'S SO VALUBLE TO ME FOR NO REAL REASON

Ik Wild is seen as the one with like, outfits and Legend has his jewlery, BUT WARS HAS HIS FUCKING SCARF. THERES SO MANY POSTS ABOUT WARS AND HIS EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SCARF AND I AM SO FUCKING FOR IT YOU HAVE NO IDEA

THE SHADE OF BLUE IS AWESOME, ITS SO COOL, ITS SO COOL HES SO COOL RAHHHH

*oops tehe I rambled like a lot* ty for this opportunity :D I'm super glad I decided to type this on my laptop and not my phone xD

[lilbagdermole]

Toph's Characterization, ATLA Comics - A Dissertation

Chapter Three - The Rift (Part Three)

Welcome back! So happy to have you here once again to critic and analyze the depressing characterization that Bryke bestowed upon our favorite Earthbending Master throughout the ATLA Comic Series. I recommend you give my other two parts a read before jumping into this one as I go into depth into certain topics and themes that'll be brought up in this Chapter!

Chapter One - The Rift (Part One)

Chapter Two - The Rift (Part Two)

Let's begin! So Issue 3 starts off where we left off in Issue 2 - Toph single-handedly holding up an underground mine with her metalbending - thus protecting Katara, her father, Satoru and multiple mine workers that are stuck underneath the mine with her.

It's a life or death situation with everyone's lives dependent on Toph and it's a race against the clock as their anxiously waiting for Toph's metalbending students to arrive and help out. Unlike the previous Chapter we actually get a small glimpse of concern out of Aang for Toph.

Everybody, give Aang a round of applause for doing the bare minimum. But in all seriousness, I'll take the scraps I can get given Bryke are choosing to continuously portray Aang in a way that makes it seem that he cares solely for Katara's well-being (and, I'll soon get into one of the most infuriating panels related to this topic).

But hey, atleast we got some acknowledgment from Aang.

Moving forward we get Satoru and Toph interacting and to be honest I truthfully do not care for Satoru, but later into the analysis I will briefly dive into their relationship and why I don't care for it. Once Satoru is done lamenting his life to Toph (who is trying to concentrate to protect everyone in the collapsed mine, and it's hilarious that this dude that right then is the moment to retell his entire life story), Lao enters the scene.

Boring... Yawning... Sloppy... LAZY!

This. This is how we're going to resolve Toph and Lao's conflict? THIS?

Remember when I started off my analysis with specifying that Toph's trauma was very poorly handled and used as a means to advance the plot? Yah, this right here is why I stated that very opinion.

In the first part of 'The Rift' we're first introduced to Toph's traumatic circumstances growing up with her controlling and overprotective parents; neglected and isolated from the world. It's a plot point that the original animated series didn't delve into and the prospect of being able to analyze and understand Toph's more vulnerable and frail side was beyond intriguing.

However, as we got further into the central conflict between Aang and Toph it was proven to us that Toph's trauma was not going to be explored further than a means to justify her stance against Aang. She becomes, uncharacteristically, rude, bashful and disrespectful to most (if not all) her friends and the only person she seems to lighten up to is Satoru becomes he represents the The Future - something that she spontaneously advocates for (as she resents anything and everything that represents the Past).

In Chapter Two we get introduced to Lao and I've already covered why I abhorred his depiction and treatment for his daughter - and as I had predicted their conflict was nothing more than to (once again) legitimize Toph's clash with Aang. It's nothing more than horrendous, stereotypical, lazy and worse than fanfiction-level writing that goes against both characters' portrayals in the original show.

And this here proves it. We left off Lao and Toph's conflict with Lao not only verbally harassing his daughter but also denouncing her as his own kin. What he said was harsh, brutal and down-right traumatic things that would (and should) break the trust that Toph held for her parental figure.

To resolve this conflict in a satisfying manner, it'd logically require time and effort to adequately mend their severed relationship. We'd need a few pages of Lao coming to terms and accepting his daughter's independence and personality, see him struggling between the idealized version of Toph he's always wanted to enforce and his desire to not lose his daughter again (and permanently). Seeing remorse, regret and genuine guilt from Lao is crucial to make his redemption believable.

And yet, here, Lao is incapable of muttering a simple apology (it's hinted at, but he never get the words out). He begins to spill the beans on his supposed divorce with Poppy - and remember Toph needs to be firm and concentrated to focus on the metal that is near crushing them to death and this could potentially be quite ground-breaking and emotional news (what I'm getting is Toph is unironically every character's physiologist with the way they trauma dump on her) - and sobs about the hardships he's faced since Toph has left. He says he loves Toph and that's it. Previous conflict? Resolved! Disgusting insults and treatment? Forgiven!

Why does the resolution to this arc infuriate me so much?

We never see Lao feel remorseful (or at the very least apologetic) for his words and actions;

We never get a panel where we see Lao comprehend and understand why his daughter did what she did when she was twelve; And on that note - we never see him acknowledge her as a Master (something he had once aspired for her to become but thought impossible due to her disability) nor do we see him show an ounce of pride for his own kin despite all her insane accomplishments;

We never get a panel where we see Toph express her own feelings or her perspective on his behavior and how it affected her - she's been reduced to a badass with quick jests, not allowed to be emotional;

We don't get a conclusive and satisfying resolution - it's rushed and lazy so we can conclude the comic without leaving any open strings - but that only resulted in diminishing Toph's pain and trauma as well as regressing her character growth;

It's infuriating because a lot of children go through this type of environment throughout their childhood - and it'd be so much more impactful for such a strong character to break down her barriers and express how her suffocating that type of upbringing damaged her and affected her, how she grew from it and overcame her difficulties; there was also missed potential to show Lao grow and not be immediately forgiven for plot's sake - realistically, children aren't immediately forgiving and given what Lao said and did, he didn't deserve to be forgiven so quickly.

I can go on with my disappointment but this part is long enough.

So, Toph's students arrive and extract the metal that was collapsing the mine and everyone is rescued - Toph falls unconscious from the exertion she had just put her body through to save everyone from being crushed to death...

And you'd think people would care right? Maybe be grateful to her??

Give me a moment whilst I go scream into the void.

Not a single person besides her students and father care about the fact that Toph is unconscious. Not a single person is thinking about checking on the person who has been single-handedly holding up an unfathomable amount of weight with her bare hands for a prolongated period and saved countless people in the process? No one... not even her best friends. Best friends mind you that are too preoccupied with their own affection to pay a single thought for Toph.

Remember what I said earlier that I was about to go off on a particularly aggravating panel, it's this one. Because I cannot fathom, in any universe, in any circumstances, where Katara wouldn't immediately jump to Toph's aid and help her out (and would rather cuddle up and kiss her boyfriend instead of helping the injured people). I cannot fathom, in any universe, in any circumstances, where Sokka, the proclaimed leader of group, the man who put his own life on the line for Toph's own well-being during Sozin's Comet, being this nonchalant about his friend bein passed out, possibly dehydrated and hurt.

I would say I wouldn't expect this behavior from Aang, but, this comic has done nothing but showcase that Aang's mind is centered around Katara and his air acolytes with no room for his Earthbending Master and best friend. We had a small glimpse of hope at the start of the chapter only for it to be crumbled and shattered with this moment.

I don't even know what to say anymore, I'm just- I understand that Bryke need to feed us the Kata@ng agenda (because for some reason, despite it being canon, they shove down our throats almost every issue of every chapter, to make sure we know that they love eachother) I get it I do, but at what cost. You just made the majority of the cast seem selfish and inconsiderate.

Let's progress before I start seeing red. Aang needs to go destroy the Refinery and Toph wakes up - Lao asks for her help to stop the Avatar as the Refinery is his future (and apparently the future of the nations) and you know our girl is all about the future now, and so off she goes to stop Aang.

I mean- If they had developed the Lao and Toph arc with any depth or any sort of care for these characters (or at least Toph) so that this moment felt earnt in any way, shape or form, I would understand the emotional impact that would come along with Lao asking for Toph's assistance and calling her the Greatest Earthbender of All Time. But, there was no development, no growth, no struggles, no understanding, no nothing - it was water downed drama for the sake of drama. And emotional moments like these just don't provoke anything in me, other than pure, unadulterated rage because of the lack of care and attention Toph receives (in her own comic, mind you).

And we've reached the big conflict between our main protagonists:

I can't completely say I despise the idea of Toph and Aang having disagreements and opposing opinions - it's only natural due to their elements being one-another's opposite and their differing personalities. It's one of the reasons why I adore their platonic (and romantic) relationship - because they have a push and pull connection, harmonic and balanced; neither is afraid of speaking their truth at the cost of hurting the other (unlike a certain canon couple); Aang is Aang in Toph's perspective, not the Avatar, not the child who stopped the one-hundred year war, nor the master airbender. He is just Aang. Her equal. And similarly, Aang sees Toph, not for her disability or her smaller appearance, Toph is Toph. His equal.

Push and pull.

Air and Earth.

Aang and Toph.

I would have loved to see an actually interesting conflict between the two and not this nonsensical garbage. Mostly because this whole debate of The Past vs. The Future is something that came out of nowhere and it's an odd set-up for either of these characters because:

While Aang does have a need to carry out his traditions, culture and, consequentially bring his past into the future, so he can restore and preserve the Air Nomad culture. It never came at the cost of the future - we saw this in Episode "The Northern Air Temple" where he learns to accept that life evolves and we'll have to conform to his history evolving alongside it; The very concept of Yu Dao is reflective of Aang's desire and dream of uniting the four nations, progression and evolution, the future.

Toph, on the other hand, never eluded her rancor towards her past. And, her contrived favor for the future stemmed from her parental issues that were poorly explored and thus, we don't really get a logical nor believable understanding of Toph's stance. It's forced and doesn't suit her nature as well as it ends up harming her growth and character.

So now Aang remembers their friends?

If this were the first time I consumed any 'Avatar: The Last Airbender' media and 'The Rift' trilogy was my first introduction to their friendship - I would have honestly doubted they were close at all. I mean throughout the three issues what we get from them is: unresolved discord; Aang continuously ignoring her feelings and moody disposition whilst more interested in his Air Acolytes and girlfriend; Aang defending a Rough Rhino that had just tried to slash Toph and scold her for protecting herself; Aang ignoring her very existence when she had just passed out unconscious... etc.

Yah, Bryke, you really nailed their friendship.

If you can't tell that's sarcasm, it is. Because this doesn't come close to touching the deep connection between these two - one built from mutual respect and trust; A bond so strong that Aang guaranteed Toph that it would transcend lifetimes - a prospect that gave Toph a certain relief and comfort. They trusted one another with their lives, fought together and understood each other without speaking a single word. They balanced one another - Aang learnt to become stronger, self-assured and resilient whilst Toph learnt to trust and depend on others. Fate brought them together - Toph was what Aang needed and Aang was what Toph needed.

Aang represented freedom. Toph represented security and strength.

Push and pull.

Air and Earth.

Aang and Toph.

Anyway, things do start to get much better in the final of the trilogy, starting off with these panels:

FINALLY SOME GOOD CHARACTERIZATION!

IT ONLY TOOK THREE ISSUES BUT WE FINALLY GET SOME DECENT CHARACTERIZATION!

AND AANG PROTECTS TOPH? PUTS HIS OWN MORALS ON THE LINE TO PROTECT HER???

YES!!!!!

A round of applause for Bryke - they failed 90% of their characterization but they outdid themselves with the remaining 10%! It's like what I said earlier - Toph and Aang are capable of putting their squabbles and altercations aside because, at the end of the day, their friendship is far too important to one another. They can fight, scream, shout, lose themselves in battle but when time need be, they always protect one another, they always have each other's back.

Push and pull.

Air and Earth.

Aang and Toph.

I'll just leave this page here. I want to glue this page into my brain and just think that this was the entire comic - just Taang hugging it out with the sunshine illuminating them, watching over the sea because they are in love and live happily ever after together. That is the plot of 'The Rift' from now on.

Before I end - I would like to briefly touch on Toph and Satoru's relationship and why I genuinely dislike them as potential love interests.

It starts by the obvious. Their is an inequality in their feelings for one another. On one hand, we can ponder whether Toph grew to view Satoru romantically (though, in this comic it was never eluded to on her end - it was, again, very forcibly introduced with her lying for him but then never mentioned and we never got many romantic coded scenes between). On the other hand, Satoru seems to worship the very ground that Toph walks on - he adores her, confides his past with her and obviously has very intense emotions regarding Toph. It's imbalanced and I just don't see the appeal.

One of the central themes of ATLA is balance and harmony, the push and pull - it's one of the reasons why Zutara (and Taang) would have been narratively more cohesive with the themes present in the show than the canon couples (with the exception of Sukka), because both these ships have an unspoken equilibrium and respect that isn't present in the aforementioned canon couples.

Another note is, I don't really understand the point of Satoru's character in this comic. He really didn't have that much to work it and his personality lacked nuances, humanity. It was very animated and boring. He didn't play off of Toph's playfulness, their dialogue was odd (cringey at times), they had no chemistry, it was very one-sided with Satoru confiding his past and hardships whilst he never once got any fragility from Toph.

It also felt as though they shoe-horned him into the comic just so people would get off their backs about Lin and Suyin's biological father - with Kanto being the confirmed father to Lin, they potentially wanted to introduce Satoru so we, as the fans, could speculate that Suyin's was his daughter. It's just a thought - but it is interesting that they made Satoru share similar physical traits with Suyin (such as: hair texture and skin tone).

And thus, I conclude the analysis of 'The Rift' what an infuriating journey this one was. I hope you enjoyed, the next comic I'll dissect will possibly be 'North and South' as Toph does play a big role in that comic (and I remember also not being too overjoyed with her characterization there).

Until next time, take care and please let me know what you thought of this analysis!!

[pearl484-blog]

Has Miraculous Lost its Innocence?

Just got an ask from @tallwriter asking if Miraculous has lost its innocence permenantly, but my inbox ate it. Sorry.

So, just to be clear, I'm not really sure I understand the question, so I'll answer it in a few different ways.

Will Miraculous Ladybug ever return to primarily catering towards its younger demograghic again? No, I don't think so. It seems pretty determined to interact with older fans and grow up with its audience. I doubt it's going to backtrack. Which is kinda a shame, because one of the things it seems determined to lose is its episodic nature in exchange for an arc. Unfortunately, the episodic nature is not the writer's strength, and arc plots are...difficult for these writers. Their inexperience in this type of writing shows. Their style of arc building how also lead to them not being able to contain their stories in small chunks anymore, which leads to me ...not enjoying them as much, along with them following this weird piece of writing advice to make whatever is the most painful thing to happen to the characters happen.

On a side note, for any writers out there, please do not follow this advice. For a stronger story with a more coherent theme, figure out what your theme is and try to come up with conflicts that might naturally arise from this, and would enhance your theme instead of distract from it. Think of it like cooking. No matter how tasty all the ingredients in your kitchen can be, you can't make them all, and some foods do not pair well. Figure out what you're working towards, warm and savory? Cool and refreshing? Healthy and lean? Then go towards that. A triple layer chocolate came next to grilled salmon and roasted mixed veggies is an ...odd choice that would raise some eye brows. Is Miraculous always going to have mature themes? Miraculous has always had themes of bullying and child abuse from the beginning. Part of why I liked this show was its realistic depiction of emotional abuse with Adrien, and its refusal to adhere to the trope that is the school bully somehow being the most popular girl at school. Considering how its aiming towards an older audience now, and it's never shied away from subverting comon trope expectations, I do not expect this to change.

However, that is not to say that I enjoy every trope subversion that MLB has done, nor do I think that it has always handled mature subjects very well, but I'll touch on that a bit more in my next section.

Have I Lost My Faith in Miraculous Ladybug Permenantly

Short answer: No. But it's going to need a lot of back bedaling and extremely good writing to make me invested in the series again.

Most of this is related to one unfortunate plot point, the mishandling of child abuse. Of course, that's not the only issue. I also do not like Lila. She is my least favorite character in the entire series. I do understand what the writing team is trying to do with her. They messed up with her character during the episode "Chameleon" and they are trying to fix that error. It is an admirable effort, but unfortunately their attempts to fix that issue have not rendered a villain that is likable or is clever and easy to hate. Unfortunately, each time I see her, I see the hand of the author every time she shows up. Everything about her is contrived, and I do not believe that she could have all these lies. Furthermore, the handling of Chloe in Seasons 4 and 5 also seemed unnaturally spiteful and petty. Perhaps, they were trying to backtrack and make the character someone fun to hate, but unfortunately, they could not. Each time she appeared, I could only sense ill intent from the author, and it was not a good look. The absolute final straw was when Chloe is revealed to have a learning disorder, and Marinette takes the time to say that it is unfair for Chloe to get accomodations for her disability because she's been taking steps to mask it by having Sabrina do her work for her. This does not make me dislike Chloe in the way the authors apparently thought I would.

However, the biggest flub of all is Adrien Agreste. He is abused. I could use an abuse checklist, and he'd hit most if not all the boxes. The show is still one of the most realistic decpictions of emotional abuse in the media and a good demonstration of abuse, why people might not recognize the abuse, why a victim might make excuses for their abuser, why a victim might not believe they are abused, and in season 5, there was an excellent depiction of the honeymoon/apology part of the cycle. I am honestly so shocked at how realistic and well portrayed Adrien's abuse is compared to the stereotypical abused woman who's got bruises and blaming it on walking into a door. BUT dear god. There is so much victim blaming towards Adrien. Adrien is too weak to stand up for himself. Adrien needs protecting from his own fragile emotions. Adrien can't know information. Adrien keeps fawning. He keeps making VERY concerning statements about himself, his feelings, his relationships to people, and no one realizes how fucked up it is. No one challenges him. The narrative, at several points, ends with his fucked up abuse logic being the end-point of the conflict. In order for Miraculous Ladybug to regain my faith in it, I need for people to challenge the fawning. I need for Adrien's unhealthy behavoirs and mindset to be challenged. I need for those behavoirs to be shown as wrong. And I need for the victim blaming to be shown as wrong. I need for people to understand what they did was wrong.

The senti-monster thing, by the way, DOES NOT HELP. It is not a good metaphor for abuse. Gabriel and Adrien was a good representation of a parent abusing their own child, now it's a representation of a creator abusing his creation. There is so little representation of a parent abusing their biological offspring. Why destroy it?

Did the authors not think the audience would be able to understand why Adrien obeys without magic? By making him controlled by an item, they undermined the whole abuse theme.

Adrien should be controlled by the man who raised him. The man he loved his whole life. The man who should've loved him. The man everyone told him loved him and knew what was best for him.

Adrien has been emotionally crushed his whole life. Told he's impulsive, too emotional, that he never makes good descisions, and the only way for him to be worthy of love is to be obedient, to be unresisting, to be perfect. He should think that molding himself to whatever people wants him to be is right, is expected, and his friends should challenge that. But they don't.

Each relationship Adrien has has been carved away besides Marinette and Plagg. Marinette will not help him. She cannot help him. Plagg is an abuse victim whose also internalized worldviews similiar to Adrien. He teaches him how to rebel. He understands these rules, but Plagg cannot acknowledge them as healthy.

Miraculous can restore my faith by re-aligning its abuse structure. Backpedaling and saying that abuse victims are not weak because they bend their knee. That sometimes they see obedience as the only option to survive, and that's okay. That victim blaming is not okay. That accomodation is good and necessary, and its wrong to be a jerk about it. That fawning is unhealthy. That molding yourself to what others want you to be is unhealthy. That judging your self-worth on how useful you are or how happy you make other people is not healthy.

I do not think it will do that. But it could. And the fandom has done that, so I will continue interacting with the fandom.

[effen-draws]

HUGEEEEE fan of your de!swap fic! Just finished reading chapter 5 and WOW what a chapter. I'm soooo glad to see that suzerainty popped up, the original scene with that game is my favorite scene, and I'm overjoyed to see that it carried over to your fic!!

Curious question, what was your motivation behind choosing what skills Kim has? I love all the skills you created for the fic, and I'd like to know your thought process behind it

Thank you so much!!! I’m super glad that you liked the chapter! The Suzerainty scene was hella fun to write:-D And I’m very happy that you like the skills as well! 

But, yes, the skills. Oh man, anon, the skills. You have opened up a can of worms here. You’ve given me an opportunity to rant here, anon. So I really hope you’re ready for a long post because I have plenty of thoughts, my friend. 

But before we actually get into any of my skill related thought processes and ideas I’d like to preface this post with 2 things!

Many of the skills (and generally the early parts of the fic) are inspired by a hodgepodge of many different people’s headcanons and art here on tumblr! Which, because I’m one of god’s favourite clowns with a terrible short term memory, I have no idea what came from  where! I looked at and read a lot of the things that later inspired me before I ever thought of writing the fic at all. And I never thought about writing any of my sources of inspiration down before I had already finished the draft of chapter 1! Which I kinda feel terrible about! The readers with a better memory than I might remember that I wrote in the first chapter that if anyone saw anything that looked familiar they should tell me so I could give proper credit. (Which I still implore any keen eyed reader to do!) So yeah, this is just to say; I’m not a genius who came up with all of this on my own and I was inspired by many cool people so don’t give me too much credit!

BUT! If anyone ever wants to write or draw anything using the skillset I’ve made for my version of swap!Kim, then you are so very welcome! So don’t sweat it if you want to reuse a name, concept, or the entire set! I’d just be happy to have inspired you:-]

Anyways sorry for the preamble. I just needed to get that said before I go down my rabbit hole:-)

So, let’s get to it! (For real this time I promise, anon) Here are a few of my general thoughts about my Kim skillset and some individual insight into more of the “interesting” skills! 

There were a few things I considered when making the skills. For one I needed to figure out what skills were needed because of narrative necessity and what were needed for characterisation. For an example HANDS ON is almost only a “Kim is physically interacting with his surroundings and I need to describe that” skill while TORQUE DORK, on the other hand, is a fluff skill that’s there because of Kim’s interests in machinery. Besides their personalities the skills also need to serve a role in telling a story, y’know? Whether that be description or character. That’s also one of the reasons that Kim only has 16 skills instead of Harry’s 24. A fic is a different medium than a game so it’s not necessary to have quite so many skills. But, if you want my non-boring justification for that, I also just think that Kim is far less scattered brained than Harry! The man is simply more together even when he’s falling apart so he therefore has a few more “multi purpose skills”:-]

Speaking about Harry, I felt like it would be important that Kim’s skills felt unique to him even if some of them started out as reskins of Harry’s (I mean, how do you make a skill responsible for logic without giving it similarities to Harry’s LOGIC skill??). Not that they needed to stand out completely but rather I didn’t want to feel like I was applying Harry’s voices to Kim’s head. Which also means that Kim’s skills just can’t do the same things that Harry’s can! For one they aren’t as psychically inclined even if they can take guesses and read people in similar ways (which they’re partially that good at because of narrative necessity, but hey man, don’t look at me I’m just trying to tell a good story here!)

One thing which I also really wanted to stress with the skills too is that many of them have “rivalries” or “alliances” with one another. Some of them are complete opposites (EYES vs. OUTSIDER) while others will almost always back each other up (POISE & COMMAND). This animosity is there because; one, Kim is constantly trying to keep himself in check and is very harsh on himself so therefore no skill can ever “win” for long. Two; I’m a BIG fan of the thought of “Kim’s centrism is killing him”. So therefore every skill is almost always pulling him in different directions and opposing each other while Kim is trying to thread the needle of just existing. And because there’s this constant infighting Kim’s mind becomes a very hostile place to be. One last general consideration before I get into some individual skills! I really love how having a high level skill in DE also has its downsides! They have blindspots! They have one track thoughts and motivations! And it’s dangerous to only listen to one of them! So I attempted to show that with Kim’s high level skills like VOLTA DO MAR and POISE in the fic:-]

Anyways: individual skill thoughts! I don’t have something to say about all of them but I'll quickly go through my thoughts on some of the more interesting ones in order. (Also I’m so sorry for rambling so long, anon. Here's the part of the post I think you're interested in.)

Starting off with PUZZLEBOX and NOTEKEEPER! If I’m honest I think these two are inseparable; Note provides information and Puz connects the dots. They’re quite obviously Kim’s deductive and note taking powerhouses. Note does however also have a purpose as a narrative device since it’s the one that recalls past information (that Kim can remember). They’re a little like a narrator in that sense. Anyways I don’t have many thoughts about these two but I think they’re kinda cute in how “dumb” they can be despite being intellect skills:-]

FANTASME is not a skill that gets a lot of the limelight but they do have a good amount to say even though they’re a low level skill. They’re kind of a CONCEPTUALISATION and INLAND EMPIRE mix I guess. They’re focused on Kim’s “nerd” things (that isn’t machinery or paperwork) and escapism. They know about art but they don’t really “get it” as Harry can. They’re also the driving force behind Kim’s existential dread as you have seen in chapter 4.

BLEEDING HEART is what I labelled as the “feelings” skill, and they were kind of an EMPATHY clone in the early concepts before I really figured them out. Because all they really want for Kim is for him to feel. Their second priority is making sure that Kim feels for the people around him as well. To Bleed it doesn’t really matter what emotions Kim is feeling as long as they are being felt and that he isn’t hurting or “burdening” anyone. They’re sad, suppressed, and visceral. Another thing about them is that similarly to how ESPRIT DE CORPS is the “gateway skill” that Harry uses to read Kim, BLEEDING HEART is the “gateway skill” Kim uses to read Harry in the fic. This is mostly because I don’t think Harry can be understood through the lens of the RCM like Kim can in the game.

EYES is interesting to me. Because they aren’t the RCM but rather swap!Kim’s understanding of the RCM personified. Which both means they’re brutally honest about how the police sucks but that they also cannot let go of duty and loyalty for the life of them. They are aptly named after Eyes; Kim’s last main connection to the RCM and its office culture. Which is very cool but also not my original idea! And because of the reasons mentioned prior I really don’t remember who came up with that stroke of genius but I would honestly like to thank them personally. (If I ever get my hands on the post I saw it in I’ll link it here)

I love the idea of OUTSIDER. Kim having a skill that’s specifically manifested because of how alienated he feels is so interesting to me! That how much the world has failed him is ingrained in him just speaks volumes, y’know. Outs don’t have too much of a narrative purpose compared to other skills but I do love them regardless. They aren’t completely my original idea either, but unlike EYES, I have no idea where I got this one from. (Again, if I find the source I’ll put in a link, but for now my cursed memory can produce nothing.)

JOIE DE VIVRE is the most fun little guy in Kim’s mind to me. They are what makes life fun (as their name suggests) and they ultimately represent indulgence. They are essentially good to listen to occasionally but not constantly. Because Joie is all about base desires which they want fulfilled now. “Hey! Smoke that cigarette now! Hey! Fuck that guy now! Hey! Avoid your responsibilities now!” And if they don’t get that they will immediately trash talk whoever shut them down. And, to say the least, they are constantly being repressed by the other skills. Kim can’t get rid of them but, oh man, does he wish he could.

VOLTA DO MAR is my swap!Kim’s signature skill. And it shows: they are used to being in control. They are all about keeping Kim going and they generally serve a similar role like VOLITION does in terms of keeping Kim sane. But they are really nothing like VOLITION. They’re mean. They’re efficient. They’re a completionist and simultaneously a survivor. They will shut down anything they deem unnecessary while also dealing with any odd situation which Kim simply needs to roll with. Volt ultimately thinks they know best and is thusly kind of a dick. 

NERVE is a kind of “physical skill all in one” with the added on flavour of repressed anger. NERVE’s name then, of course, both comes from the biological nerve and because of the “that struck a nerve” saying. They just want Kim to follow his gut and retaliate for once. They’re the physicality of anger and instinct. Which has pros and cons… 

POISE is an interesting little fella to me. They’re kind of like a teen who’s obsessed with being cool and keeping up face and facade in my eyes:-) And since they’re also such a high level skill they get to talk a lot, and with their focus being reputation a large part of that talk is about how embarrassed Kim should be. They’re a personification of self consciousness and intrusive anxiety riddled thoughts and yet they’re also one of Kim’s most useful skills, both in regards to reading others and not being read himself. They’re sort of a necessary evil in that sense.

Oh man. That was a ramble. And I didn’t even talk about every skill. Well, I’m all tuckered out now but thank you so much for the ask, anon! I kinda took it as an excuse to just talk for once so I hope that alright:-] 

I don’t know how many people (if any) will find this interesting so, to the people who got this far, I’ll tell you my swap!Kim’s 5 highest level skills as a token of my appreciation for reading:-) Number one is of course VOLTA DO MAR, followed by POISE, BLEEDING HEART, NOTEKEEPER, and then lastly COMMAND. Extra fun fact; EYES and OUTSIDER are always the exact same level and this makes them furious.

Anyways, thank you again for reading my fic and this long ass answer to an otherwise simple ask! I hope you have a great rest of your day:-]

[arbiterofsecrets]

「The constellation, "Arbiter Of Secrets" wishes to introduce themselves。。。」

「you venture out into the woods and in your line of sight, you see a blurred figure of a person in robes that befits a noble.」

hi there, and welcome to my blog !!! you can call me by a bunch of my online names: ki, k, k!☆, k☆, key but i am best known as kia !!! 17 !!! i am a MINOR so please refrain from talking about explicit subjects/topics i am non-binary. i usually go by they/them but i don't mind she/her or he/him at all ☆ your favorite lipxlip and haikaveh poster is my girlfriend @blusapp <3 the entirety of my personality is built on ff and orv.

⌈you discover what their presence is all about.⌋

its just me posting drabbles, occasional ranting about my blurbos and oomfies, art <3, music analysis/music character pair-ups, and whatever else you see from me !

one day i might consider taking up writing requests but for now, let's just have some casual fun.

consider interacting or becoming my mutual ! it makes me happy that i can make other people feel something through the things i post. positive things for the most part that is !

this is a safe space for the people who wish to talk about all kinds of different things in the related tagged fandoms. there will be no toleration of cyber bullying and anything else related of the sort !

[hey-haven]

Ranking all the TWST books from Worst to Best Part 5

Number 2: Book 1

Don’t know how much of a hot take this one will be, but Book 1 was a very strong start to the game. The simplicity of it really falls in its favor as it’s meant to serve as an introduction to the formula that we’d get used to even as it grows and expands as the story progresses. Compared to the stakes of the later chapters, this one really feels like nothing in comparison as you’re literally just baking a tart with the Heartslabyul gang, but that’s honestly a good thing.

The story itself takes a back burner as it focuses more on the characters. You get to know every member of the dorm and really take the time to figure out what they’re about as well as how they interact with one another. Considering that Deuce and Ace are essentially the deuteragonists of the game, I’m glad that we take the time to get to know them a bit more throughout the chapter all while it doesn’t stray from Riddle’s arc. Even when they’re not present, their actions still push the story along and we can infer just who Riddle is with with how they’ve been running their dorm and with how Trey and Cater talk about them. It’s impressive how much we really get to know Riddle when there are only around 20 chapters overall and they’re not present in all of them.

You know someone’s character writing is damn good when I can go from completely despising Riddle only for them to easily become my second favorite character of all time (no one can take Idia’s throne though tbh). Despite the scale of the conflict being much less severe than in later books, Riddle’s actions are still very extreme. As Ace said, magic is near essential for a mage. He said that removing their magic is no different from removing someone’s limb. It is an extrnsion of themselves used in day to day life, so to have Riddle be locking student’s magic up left and right is actually kind of messed up. Especially knowing how small a lot of the offenses were. It made me kind of angry to watch someone control these people like the tyrant they were described to be. It was easy to hate Riddle and to root for Ace and Deuce because the writing does a fantastic job paining the Housewarden as an asshole. We yet to see the full story, only getting nuggets of whatever good Riddle displays from what Trey says. After all, he must be loyal for a reason.

And then we see Riddle’s backstory. It’s the first one we see, and it’s still the one that impacts me the most. Child abuse is a narrative that we see a lot, but the specific execution with the abuse Riddle faced is one that really pulled at my heart. Maybe it’s because I relate to some extent. To not be abused physically but still faced the impact of being raised by a parent who did not provide love. Trust me when I say that it can break a person. The lack of control Riddle has in their home life easily explains their more neurotic need to have control in school. The voice acting, the story, they way Riddle begs for their mom to just let them have one slice of cake. I cried, I really did. Their story is what I consider a mastery of making a sympathetic and redeemable antagonist.

The pain Riddle faced, and really continues to face as they do still live with their mom at the end of the day, never excuses their actions in game (unlike some of the later antagonists) but it does explain them. I’m sure my own personal life is a big part of why I was more willing to forgive Riddle nearly right away, but another part was also their desire to put in the effort to be better. It’s an attitude that carries over to the second book and really every other time we see Riddle including special events. It’s a process, but we still continue to see them get better especially knowing they are surrounded by people that actually cares about them.

Book 1 is fantastic. It’s one of the only 2 books I have cried over because ouch parental issues ouchie. The heavy focus on the characters rather than some grand story made it easy for me to fall in love with them. The shorter chapters forced Yana to actually focus on the main plot and not get distracted by side quests (I’m looking at you Book 5). Riddle is actually such a wonderful character, being able to see them at their worst and their best. It’s just really fucking good. I look back on Book 1 fondly cause I remembered being excited finishing it and seeing what the others had to offer hoping they would be as good as the first.

And then I was smacked by the disappointment that was Book 2 but oh fucking well.

Part 4

[dafukdidiwatch]

As much as I think this is a brilliant idea to liveblog and would absolutely love to do it, I have unfortunately already seen Epithet Erased. I remember watching it since Dec 2019. I’ve watched it so many times on repeat that I mentally watch all 7 episodes. I manage to get a Giovanni Plush when they were on sale. This was a Pandemic Comfort Show for me and my sister when 2020 happened. I absolutely recommend this show every chance I get because it is incredible and amazing and everyone should watch it.

So yeah, sorry about not liveblogging it, but here’s some of my opinions about the show:

Ramsey Murdoch is my favorite character, I have a preference for rat bastard con men

I actually really disliked Giovanni when he first appeared. I thought he was just annoying Team Rocket. It took me to his and Molly’s heart-to-heart before I turned. Now he’s tied for Second fav

My sister’s most hated line in the series is “Why does your knife have a bat taped to it” which makes me laugh

I have never NOT quoted Indus whenever we go see dinosaur anything

In fact, we use a lot of quotes from this show all the time. “They Tried their Bargain Bin Best” “EVIL! Evil! Evil! Evil! Evil!” “Let me do my goddamned job”

Indus is also Second Fav. You can’t argue with stupid or himbo, and my man has both. He’s just way too earnest to hate even a little bit

Coupon Boy has top tier epithet power just for the sheer audacity of it being an actual decent power while being stupid as fuck

Ramsey’s line “Am I having an aneurysm what is happening” almost broke me which was bad because I was working at my old job when I first watched the series, so I had to really try not to laugh by my coworkers

I’ve nicknamed the mystery Red Robe dude at the end of the series Barry Bluejeans because why not, TAZ lives in my head rent free

Not sure what Epithet I would have if I pick one, but I would definitely rather it be more Creative than anything. I like being versatile and clever overall. 

I love figuring out powers based on single words, because it makes it my mission to come up with as many abilities as I can for it lol

Redwood Run is my favorite part, since it has all the coolest characters interacting with one another and the best action scenes (Zora, Howie, Percy, Ramsey, Giovanni)

I got a headcanon that the Epithet Erased world is either A) how things started out when Quirks first appeared like in MHA or B) the American version of how we would have treated Quirks

I have a whole ass thing on detailing the power-structure of Quirks vs Epithets vs Devil Fruits (If I can find the time to actually write it lol)

Absolutely feel free to shout at me about anything Epithet Erased related because I love this show with all my heart and will Absolutely chat your ear off of things

[grovyrosegirl]

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? :)

Fic Writer Ask Game:

Gosh that’s tricky, because I often joke about damn torturous the fanfiction writing process can be. I think most writers can relate. 😂 But! We wouldn’t be doing this without having some sort of love for it, so let’s focus on that!

I think my personal favorite part of the process is just playing around with a world I already love. With my original writing, I tend to get very hung up on world-building and characters because I have to build them all up from scratch. That’s not to say I can’t find enjoyment in that too, but it’s understandably a lot more daunting. But with fanfiction, you get worlds you already love exploring and characters you already enjoy interacting with, and it’s basically like playing Barbies!

You can expand upon the world, find the little corners and details that didn’t get much spotlight in the original work, and ask yourself, “What if this happened? Or Character A did this instead? Or how would they react to XYZ?”

It’s fun! Because you’re not just the passive audience member anymore, but you get to be in control, decide how things will work out.

TLDR: Fanfiction is the writing equivalent of smashing your action figures and dolls together to make them smooch and I love it.

[edoro]

Luz for character bingo! c:

okay, there just weren't really many spaces that adequately explain my feelings about Luz, so.

i love her. she is an absolute delight and probably my favorite cartoon protagonist of all time. i find her intensely, painfully relatable, and therefore also an absolute joy to write - getting into her headspace is so easy for me. if you spliced Luz and Hunter into one incredibly fucked up person, that person would have been me as a teenager.

okay, so, Luz. gosh. she's such a good character. i love how idealistic and hopeful and caring she is, how sweet and kind and compassionate, and yet how she also clearly has her own issues - deeply buried grief over the loss of her father (boy did the nail the "my dad is dead and it's kind of a big deal but i'm saying it's not because i really don't want to have to deal with someone else's feelings about it right now" feeling in that episode where she tells Amity about that), her own loneliness and awkwardness, the way she tends to just internalize everything and push away her own feelings and needs...

she's so awkward and clumsy in so many ways, but also so earnest. she cares so much about people and even though she's often very impulsive and intense, she's also pretty socially adept in some ways. she's good at figuring out how other people are feeling and what they need and trying to offer that.

i see Luz as the kind of undx'd/untreated (seriously, Camila, don't send the kid to social skills camp, send her to a fucking psychiatrist and get her some damn ritalin) adhd kid who's always just been... too much. too loud, too weird, too intense, too emotional, too invested in the wrong things in the wrong ways. the kind of person who has a switch where everyone else seems to have a dial.

i can imagine her as a younger kid having more trouble controlling her emotions than she does now, and being a lot more prone to impulsive displays of negative emotion - i notice that Luz tries really hard to put a positive face on things, and it feels a lot like someone who's very wary of her own capacity for anger and negativity.

she's clearly so isolated at home, without any real friends, and has just retreated hard into self-directed fantasy hobbies as a way of coping. but give her the chance to bond, and she jumps for it - she's not aloof, she's just been hurt and rejected so many times, but when she has the chance for a fresh start, she grabs it with both hands.

she tries so hard to see the good in everyone and give them the benefit of the doubt, which is helpful for people like Amity and Hunter, but comes back to bite her with people like Philip. i really enjoy how, idk, cohesive her whole personality is as a character - all of her good traits can be flaws, and many of her flaws can also be good!

she shows compassion to everyone, but some people don't deserve her compassion, and being too trusting gets her hurt. she's intense and impulsive, but it makes her very good at learning and teaching herself things, and means she doesn't overthink situations the way people like, say, Lilith do, and she's not afraid to do what she thinks is right.

she cares so much about other people, but she uses that as a way of suppressing her own issues. she neglects herself emotionally, bottling everything up inside and trying to project onto others and solve their problems as a sort of proxy for solving her own. very 'unaddressed trauma' type of feeling there, trying to give everyone else the care and compassion and support that she needs but doesn't know how to ask for or feels like she doesn't deserve.

i just love her a lot. she's so vibrant and real. as for 'better as part of a dynamic' - i think Luz is completely fascinating on her own, but she really shines when you get to play her off of other people. after all, isolation was her whole problem in the human realm. give her friends, enemies, foils, and watch what she does! the way she relates to and interacts with all the members of the cast is just endlessly fascinating.

i'm especially interested in playing her off of Hunter and Philip, because they're my faves, and the parallels and mirroring there are just delicious. but she has great interactions with everybody. she's a good kid and a good character.

[kitcat992]

│Identity Saga │Narrative Discourse (The Steps to "Son")

Identity Saga

It doesn't matter how much time dwindles on since writing the first installment of the Identity Saga; some days, it feels no different than if it were last week. And completing Tony's journey of self-growth — allowing himself to open up and bring Peter into his life as 'more than a mentee' — was absolutely one of my favorite things about writing Identity Theft.

I remember starting this story the night I saw Infinity War; I fell head over heels for what little interaction we saw between Tony and Peter in that movie, combined with Spider-Man: Homecoming. And like most things I latched onto those seeds and breadcrumbs and went wild with it. I wanted to see create the journey that got Tony to being a "dad figure" and decide if I was going to do it, I'd be going all in. It was the slowest of burns I've ever written, but the most satisfying, all at the same time.

Through-out Identity Theft, we watched Tony and Peter evolve after a 6ish month gap from Homecoming to narrative present. From "mentee" to "like a son", it was a huge pleasure (and one of my biggest accomplishments, at the time) to take Tony through that journey. Following each event of the story, we got to see himself allow the destruction of the barricades that kept him from bringing someone close into his life. And most importantly, begin to see himself as a pseudo father-figure — especially after the hangups he's had in his own life.

As Identity Crisis comes to a conclusion — with the second installment following Peter's journey from "mentor" to "like a dad" — I think it's important to revisit the narrative discourse of Tony's character growth through this saga. Providing relationships that felt "earned" through organic growth and pacing was my goal with this series, and even with the word count far exceeding what I ever anticipated (along with a time-frame that I never expected in completing the saga) I'm very proud to have gotten these characters where they are in the narrative.

Tony deserved this in the MCU. In my little sandbox of stories, he got it.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 1: Prologue

Tony scoffed, mildly amused. “Jesus kid, that’s the best question you can come up with? That part was borderline child's play.”

“Yeah, well, no, it’s just —” Peter stumbled over his words, scooting his stool closer to where Tony sat. And then closer after that. “Facial recognition typically uses bio metrics for its body measurements and calculations, to—to you know, refer to metrics related to human characteristics, but its used in access control, never memory stored control. And I can’t imagine a simple storage unit could hold all this information and relay it back to the recognition program in time to provide results, so…how'd you do it?"

Tony hummed, giving a short and sharp nod. If there was one thing he could always count on, it was that Parker could talk his head off when it came to science. And while he had days where he doubted supplying the kid with so much technology to support his vigilante heroism — six months ago, for example, when the Ferry Incident was still fresh in his mind — it was moments like this that renewed his confidence in the young lad.

He wouldn't admit it aloud, but it made him proud.

Or some mutated form of the emotion he hadn't quite figured it out yet.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 6: Breakfast at Tony’s

“My intent was never malicious with Peter." Tony sighed, rubbing harshly at the nape of his neck. "He’s just a boy trying to keep his family and friends safe and honestly, can you be angry with that? None of you can look me in the eye and say you wouldn’t want the same thing." Tony noticeably turned to Clint. "Hell, Barton, your entire family is a secret from the world.”

Clint shrugged, not making an attempt to dispute the fact.

Tony continued on, “I respected his request and followed through with it. So if you have anyone to be mad at, it’s me — but it’d be pretty damn stupid to stay mad over something like this. We have bigger fish to fry.”

Rhodey looked between him and Peter, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.

“You trust him then?” he asked.

It was easy for Rhodey to tell when Tony was bullshitting. They had been friends for a long time, way before Iron Man, long before Afghanistan — there was a foundation between them that couldn’t be rattled. His entire life changed along with Tony’s, somehow joining him in the crazy ride of War Machine, the brief blip of Iron Patriot, and ultimately landing with the Avengers.

So when Tony nodded, he wholeheartedly believed him.

“I do,” Tony said, flapping a hand in Peter's general vicinity. “He’s good. He’s better than good, he’s great.”

Nobody missed how Peter looked up at hearing those words, his eyes sparkling with a sense of pride that made him grin ear-to-ear. For a moment, Tony looked nowhere else but at that. A shadow of a grin washed across his own face, something that not one person in the room didn’t notice.

The exchange was brief, but unique, giving Tony a different light to him; a humility that bounced off him no different than the skylights from above.

Steve noted that.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 7: New Kid on the Block

Tony pounded on the kid's back as he coughed dirty river water onto the ground with each action, his inhales wet and rickety.

“Breathe, kid, breathe…” he calmly instructed him, obviously not wavered by the thumbs up that Peter insisted on giving, not until his coughs dissipate and his breaths were less shaky.

Peter took a deep inhale, this time clean and dry. He watched in front of him as Sam contained the much smaller rock creature — and he laughed.

“Holy crap, he’s so small now! That’s just…” Peter grinned ear-to-ear. “That was so awesome! Way more awesome than the Android, which is still so awesome. Holy crap, that was —”

Peter stopped mid-sentence as Tony removed his Iron Man mask, exposing much less happy features than what he was experiencing.

Oh crap. He was in trouble — he had to be in trouble - he must have screwed up and now they were angry with him, again — angry again. Heart plummeting to the sopping wet soles of his feet, Peter gulped hard enough to shake his throat.

“Mr. Stark, I —”

His apology was cut short when Tony laid a hand on his shoulder, sighing with relief.

“You did good, kid,” he said. “You scared the devil out of me, but you did real good.”

Peter grinned, possibly wider than before. Mr. Stark wasn’t angry — no, he seemed almost…proud. And though it wasn’t much, barely a twitch of his lips, he could tell Tony was also smiling.

He did good.

Peter nodded in thanks, wiping away the dirty water from his mouth. He did good.

Those few words were the best he had heard in a long time, feeling a sense of pride in himself that he hadn’t felt in months. Suddenly, all the overlapping failures washed away — the Daily Bugle's headlines didn't mean squat to him. Not with the approval he'd just received.

Tony must have noticed his happiness, because he went from having his hand on him to wrapping his entire arm around his shoulder with a tight squeeze.

Peter relished in it.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 8: Afterparty

It wasn’t too long into their trip to Queens though that Peter fell quiet, and Tony briefly considered turning on music to fill the silence. Sparing a glance to the passenger’s seat where Peter sat, he ultimately decided against it.

“Damn, kid,” Tony muttered. “Talked yourself right to sleep.”

While he would have liked to believe as much, Tony knew better than that. He could see the day was wearing thin on Peter by the time the sun had set, the bags under his eyes growing darker with each hour. He had to wonder if the kid had even slept last night.

Still, he kept up the facade well, eagerly talking to everyone like the energizer bunny he was.

That was the thing with Peter — always moving, always bouncing and jittery.

Tony could only imagine how much adrenaline had pumped through the kid’s veins, between last nights adventure and then his geeky-self getting overwhelmed hanging out with the team. It had to be enough energy to fuel a third world country, and the crash was probably just as bad.

He looked back to the road, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He wasn’t sure how or when he got into this situation, but deep down inside, he knew it didn’t bother him. The fact it didn’t bother him probably bothered him, but he’d deal with that another time.

The kid did good today. He did better than good, he did great — fantastic, amazing even. This little amazing Spider-Man saving the day like a pro. It was like a sense of pride that bubbled within him, happy to see the kid excel, take the reins at the crazy job he was thrown into.

Tony knew Peter had it within him. To be the hero, to be better than he was. He just needed the guidance.

It was something Howard Stark failed at.

His father gave him all the money in the world, but he never gave the guidance Tony needed. It took Afghanistan for him to realize he needed to be his own light in the darkness. It took more than that to realize he had to do better for the world — the Battle of New York, Ultron. The Accords, and the dismantling that followed.

Looking over at Peter again, Tony softened. He didn’t know what it was about the teenager that drew him in like a magnet. All he needed was an extra hand in Berlin, something to convince Rogers that he was off his rocker and needed to come to his senses. They should have parted ways after that, there was no reason for him to become so connected. And yet half his year was spent focused on the Spider-kid —

No.

Peter.

He was focused on Peter.

It was almost as if they were one in the same. Two damaged souls just trying to make the world a better place, so their pain wouldn’t be experienced by anyone else.

Tony knew he shouldn’t be getting so close. People close to him got hurt — he hurt those close to him. It was instinct by this point; the toxic, inevitable nature within him that he couldn’t shake. And now Peter was close — he was close to the team, his life, his world —

It was asking for trouble.

Somehow, along the journey he had taken as Iron Man, this fifteen-year-old kid looked up to him. He was a role model now — what the hell was he supposed to do with that? There wasn’t anything good about him to look up to. If anything, he was the example of what not to do.

'Don't do anything I would do. And don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

Yeah, that summed him up pretty damn well.

Tony looked up in the rearview mirror, the headlights from behind them highlighting the browns in his eyes. It was strange — an odd feeling, knowing Peter admired him. It kind of made him sick to his stomach, and not just because of the sappiness behind it all.

This was dangerous territory. Guiding a kid, mentoring a kid. This wasn't what he set out to do.

Being Iron Man, flying in the skies, saving the world — that seemed like a piece of cake compared to this. There wasn’t a playbook on how to mentor a teenager — scratch that, a teenage superhero.

The most he could do was try.

It would mean headaches — all kinds of headaches, frustration, stress — Tony knew exactly what kind of trouble this was asking for. But he owed it to the kid to at least try.

He owed it to himself.

“Is it worth it, Tony?” Steve had asked him. “Is he worth it?”

The procession of streetlights and passing cars illuminated the interior of the car, shinning inside just long enough for Tony to catch the sight of Peter curled up in the leather passenger seat. His head was lolled to the side, his arms clutching the bag that contained his spider-suit. His mouth was slightly ajar, and light snores slipped out with each breath he took.

Yeah, Tony decided. He’s worth it.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 10: And Washed the Spider Out

Somehow, and for some reason, Tony's eyes locked onto the scattered papers on his desk.

The MIT brochures stared back at him.

Mocking him.

“I just…I don’t know, Mr. Stark.” Peter hesitantly set the brochures on the work table, stepping back with caution. “I can’t leave New York. What about Spider-Man, protecting the little guy? I can’t do that from MIT. And—and I can’t —”

“You can’t what?” Tony snapped in a way that was purely controlled, a vibration of intimidation that shook Peter’s core. If looks could kill, he'd surely be six feet under from the piercing glare the billionaire gave him.

Peter bowed his head, his eyes locked on his dirty sneakers.

“I can’t leave Aunt May.” His words were quiet, his hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. “She needs me, Mr. Stark. I can’t just leave her...not yet.”

Tony squeezed the screwdriver in his hand so tightly that the metal tip broke through skin, a stream of blood trickling out.

It didn't hurt enough. It ached, throbbed, and stung, but it didn't hurt enough to distract him from the sickening pain in his heart.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

“Goddamnit!”

It took one sweep of his arm to knock over everything on the table. Papers, tools, and random mechanical parts fell to the ground with a clatter and bang. It wasn’t long after that he decided, screw it, the entire table can join them. And then once he knocked the table to the ground, Tony kicked the chair over as well. He kicked it — kicked, kicked and kicked it, slamming it against the wall with the force of his anger. 

“Damn it!” he kicked repeatedly, angrily. “Damn it, GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

He screamed because he needed to, his voice harsh and jarring, because he had to, because this isn't happening, this isn't real, this can't be real.

But it was. Tony had no ability to change it, no amount of money to fix it, no control over any of it. He croaked as his knees buckled under his weight, pathetically sinking down onto the stool with a deafening headache starting to drown out the scratchy pain in his throat.

And he let himself be.

It was like a tidal wave, the grief. Washing over him instantaneously.

He heard the whoosh of the sliding doors but never the alert from his AI. Because he shut it off, of course. Though he wouldn’t have needed the warning to begin with.

Tony knew exactly who it was.

“You’ve gone too far with your override privileges, Pep.”

His voice was so ragged he didn't even recognize it, wet with tears and clouded with pain. It didn't sound like him at all.

“Tony...” Her voice was steadier than he expected it to be. 

He was reluctant to let her near him. To let her feel the anger and shame radiating off him, to see him in such a weak, pathetic state. Yet he never made a move to otherwise stop her.

She knew it all, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“He was just a kid." Tony shut his eyes and held them tight. “I’m the adult. I was supposed to protect him. He was just a kid.”

Hunched over on the stool, Tony never moved. Pepper approached him and without any hesitation, without any shame, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head close to her, letting him rest in the tuck of her stomach where she stood.

“It’s okay, Tony.” Pepper ran her hand through his hair. “It’s okay…”

It hit him with capsizing quickness. Tony felt himself pulled forward, as if the weight in his chest was enough to define gravity. The sobs wretched through him and he wailed, like a dying animal, crying in agony.

They came one after another, harsh and loud, until he couldn't breathe, until he was gasping from the exertion of dissolving into his emotions. Her shirt became soaked with his tears, but neither cared. She held him closer as his cries howled in the room.

“It’s okay, Tony.” Pepper’s own voice cracked. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

There was no physical mark, no external catalyst for his distress — he made it out okay. He wasn’t swallowed up by the burning flames, eating away at his flesh and muscles and stripping him of the life he knew. He was okay.

But he was still burning, gasping with panic at flames that didn't exist.

Throat aching, his sobs died to thin, whistling intakes of air, choking on his own tears when they hiccupped in his throat.

“I can’t fix this. I can’t fix this,” Tony gasped, over and over. “I can’t fix this, Pep. I can’t bring him back.”

Pepper held him tighter, her own tears salty on her lips.

“I failed him." He choked on another sob, pulling tight at his chest. "I — I failed him.”

Pepper didn't respond.

Tony didn't need her to.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 11: Avengers Disassembled

“We lost him too, you know," Steve's voice was almost too quiet to hear.

Tony wished it had been.

“You lost him?” Tony scoffed, the sound piercingly angry. He slammed his mug down on the table, uncaring as the contents split everywhere. "I'm sorry, exactly how long did you know him?"

Steve met his angry eyes with soft ones, stripping him of every decade he slept frozen in ice.

“You’re right,” he nodded, struggling to find the right words to say — it showed in the bob of his throat, highlighting the shadow that covered his jaw. “It's not that I don't wish I had known him sooner. Or longer. Because I do, we all do. Peter was a good kid." Steve frowned, the downward tug of his lips creating lines on his face Tony hadn't seen before. "It's just...he obviously meant a lot to you, Tony. I don’t think I’ve ever…”

There was a pause.

Steve looked down to the coffee cup on the table, watching as the mess began to leak driblets onto the ground. One drop at a time, creating a small puddle on the marble floor. A mess that somebody, at some point, would need to clean up.

“You called him your kid.” Steve forced his eyes away from the dripping coffee, back to where Tony sat. His head tilted to the side, just narrowly. “Last week…out on the island…you called him your kid.”

The coffee kept dripping.

Tony barely craned his head around to look at Steve — close enough now that if he wanted to take a seat next to him on the couch, he could. If Tony hadn't been so confused, he would've made a run for the other sofa. Or jump straight down the stairs, need be. Whatever it meant to get Steve away from him.

Curiosity always did win when it came to Stark's. And Steve's out-of-the-blue comment was just enough to grab his attention.

"Your point?" Tony made a face that was caught between insulted and perplexed, and something else he was too tired to figure out.

Steve found himself leaning against the armrest of the sofa, slowly, enough that the movement didn't jostle the man sitting there.

“Tony…” Steve started to say. “Was he actually your son —?”

“No!” Tony's eyes were wide enough to fall onto the floor. Jesus, if that didn't get him to sober up quickly. "Christ, no, I didn't have — no!"

He definitely needed to go heavier on the whiskey. Tony brought a hand to his forehead, not realizing it was wet with coffee until it smeared against his temple. He cursed under his breath, rubbing the back of his hand roughly against his jeans before returning to a halfhearted temple massage.

This was exactly the shit he'd been worried about with Parker. Rumors, speculation, tabloid garbage nonsense that would spread like wildfire — this was part of why he wanted to keep Peter secret from the team.

A scoff shook his back. So much for that.

Despite Tony's outburst, Steve still seemed wary. His head tilted further to the side, his confusion deepening. All the more visible underneath the lack of sleep that coated his features.

It was a tired Captain America that Tony took pity on. His confusion was no different than Bambi on a dewy morning, lost and looking for answers. Glancing over at Steve — really looking at him — and Tony didn't understand how even the blues of his eyes had deepened with that confusion. It was almost enough to make him scoff again — because of course Rogers could pull off the Bambi eyes when he wanted to.

Screw it. It didn't matter now. It didn't matter what the team knew and what they didn't know.

It wasn't like Peter was around to worry about anymore.

"He wasn't...he wasn't my kid, no," Tony let out that scoff after all. "He’s been — he was— hanging around here. A lot. More often than I probably should have let him.”

Tony adjusted himself on the sofa, attempting to straighten his back in a way that would evoke poise they both knew he didn’t have right now. The sip of coffee he took only further deteriorated that attempt. The hand holding his mug began to tremble with the liquid he hadn't consumed in ages.

“What can I say, he was needy and I needed..." Tony didn't realize his foot was tapping against the floor until the sound started to aggravate him. "It doesn't matter what I needed."

Identity Theft│ Chapter 12: The Doctor Is In

“You came here to tell us Peter is still alive." Wanda looked up at Strange, the expression that fell on her face tighter than the words that thickened her accent. "You want us to find him.”

It wasn't a question. Rather, an acknowledgment of his task.

Stephen simply nodded. “I have been warned, by the Vishanti, that the death of your ward —”

“He wasn’t my ward,” Tony snapped.

Stephen noticeably rolled his eyes. “Whatever relationship exists here — it’s the catalyst. If not taken care of, it will start a chain of events beyond our control of stopping. Beyond even my control of stopping.”

“What chain of events?” Tony asked, hard-pressed, the liquor that left his system no longer at play for his anger. “What’s so awful from one kid kicking the bucket?”

Stephen didn't answer right away. The silence that followed seemed to be the longest yet, with a faint line deepening across his forehead.

Finally, “I have not been granted that knowledge.”

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or perhaps the day’s events finally took a toll on him. Maybe, even, he couldn't handle his whisky as well as he could in the past. But for a moment, Tony stared ahead blankly, unable to think of a proper response. His mind went empty, his brain going blank. He blinked, once and then twice, before wearily shaking his head.

“Alright, I’ve entertained this long enough.” Tony turned around, shooing him away with his arm. “Grab your rabbit and leave through your top hat, or whatever pyrotechnic light show you have in your back pocket. I’m not sending anyone to walk you out, so you’re on your own —”

“Your kid is still alive!” Stephen argued, stepping forward — his feet hit the floor as loud as his voice broke through his throat.

Tony spun fast on his heels, the rage in his eyes blazing hot. “I watched him die.”

Stephen shook his head. “You watched a building explode.”

Tony pointed an accusing finger his way. “That he was in.”

Stephen slammed an open palm into his chest.

And the world stopped.

Tony felt it before he saw it. A sudden displacement from his body, as if his mind had become its own entity; disconnecting from everything that held him grounded in the real world.

Stephen used one hand to grab the wrist of the finger that pointed at him, yanking him forward in one harsh tug. With one fluid motion, he slammed his open palm into Tony's chest. The strike was so hard it knocked him off balance.

Or at least, it would have. It should have.

Tony was witnessing real time in milliseconds, possibly even slower. Fractions of milliseconds. Fractions of fractions of milliseconds. He stared at his own body — his own body, caught in slow motion, stumbling backward.

Stephen's hand was still on him, covering his t-shirt, the balls of his heels barely having barely lifted off the ground.

With shaking panic, Tony realized that he wasn’t in his body anymore.

He stared at his hands with disbelief. The rough, callous fingers were so faint, so tangible that he could see the floor below him, as if his skin were made of sheer glass. His physical body continued to fall backward, centimeter by centimeter, destined to hit the floor. The surrounding world around him moved like molasses; all as he floated away, a translucent form with no control.

And then, he was sent soaring.

Tony could feel the air knocked from his lungs at the forced momentum, losing all connection with the world that once was. He could feel the wind fly through his hair, hitting his skin, his stomach rolling with waves of nausea as he flew faster than Iron Man could ever dream of going.

It was a blur and spectrum of colors. A roller coaster caught within a kaleidoscope. Tony was vaguely aware that he was shouting, possibly even screaming — hysterically screaming. But he couldn’t comprehend anything that was going on.

He couldn’t connect with what was around him.

And then he stopped. Face to face with dazed, glassy, brown eyes.

Young eyes.

Panicked eyes.

Peter’s eyes.

Tony could hear the kid's breathing — each inhale raspy, forced. For one split of a second, he heard a heartbeat.

Alive.

Living. 

One blink, and everything was gone.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 12: The Doctor Is In

Tony took a deep breath, this time through his mouth, and tried to hone in his mind. He even closed his eyes the second time around. The crickets chirped, and his own breath echoed in his ears, all the while he faintly heard Strange whisper under his breath.

“Clear your mind…”

Tony was never good at meditation. If he had an idea for an invention, he could focus on it for months. If given an object to fix, he’d do his damnedest to repair it. But mediation meant silence, and silence usually followed uncomfortable thoughts.

Howard, his mom. Afghanistan, Obadiah, Vanko, Hammer, Killian…

He shook his head, fighting to steer his mind in the right direction. These people brought his demons to life; they weren’t what — and who — he needed to be focused on. They were people that made his life hell. People who were out to get him.

Loki, Barnes, Ultron —

‘Come on, treat this like a problem.' Tony growled, the sound muted in his chest. 'You can fix this. You can fix yourself.’

It was a joke to even trick himself into that. He knew he could never fix himself. But he was lucky enough to have people around him to get him through the day. Pepper, Rhodey — hell, though he hated to admit it, he had the entire team of Avengers watching his back. He may be a hot piping mess, but he’d never have to be one alone.

And Peter. The kid was glued to his side whether he wanted him to be or not. Peter never saw the bad in him. Even with his entire history laid out in newspapers, recorded in videos, spread across the tabloids — Peter shrugged it off as though it didn’t bother him.

The kid had so much life in him. Even on his worst days, the kid smiled with more love than Tony could ever give back. For the longest time he believed he was mentoring the kid to be like him — but he soon realized that having Peter in his life was making him the better man, not the other way around. He made every beat of his heart worth it.

Peter made him want to be a better person. To not let his baggage and trauma control his life. To spend the evening in bed with Pepper rather than in his workshop — because life was short and he didn’t know how long he had with her. To make more time with Rhodey, because they had been friends for decades and the man deserved better than what company he had been providing.

To forgive Steve, because mistakes shouldn’t always define the man.

“When you can do the things I can…but you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.”

For a moment, Tony stopped breathing. He didn’t realize it, but the air halted in his chest, stagnant with the thoughts that passed by in his mind. His forehead creased as he focused so intently, and so deeply, on the memories that made his arms quiver and his eyes twitch.

But he could see it — he could see a young Peter; sitting on his bed in his Queens apartment, the kid all but starstruck at the concept of talking with Tony Stark. He could see him ripping off his Spider-Man mask, giddy and excited at his first team-up with Iron Man. And for one short moment, he could feel him, his own arm wrapped around the lanky but built teenager as they walked away from the island together.

For a moment, he felt at peace.

Stephen was the one to come out of his trance with a gasp, a thud on the ground that startled Tony back to the present. From the way his clothes shook, Tony could only assume something magical had happened.

And he missed it.

Well, damn.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 15: Parker Luck

Something inside Steve finally broke. When Tony briskly walked past him, attempting to reach the rest of the team, he grabbed onto his bicep tightly. Stalling him from moving any further.

“You good?” Steve asked, his voice almost too low to hear.

Tony looked over at him, stone-cold sober with exhaustion that sank deep in his bones.

“I will be once we get this over with,” he answered.

Steve didn’t let go of his grip. “You know we have your back on this, Tony. Right?”

Tony shook him off, roughly at that, with his brows furrowed tight.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve had a million different thoughts raging in his head — things he wanted to say yesterday, the day before that, and the day before it all. It burned a hole deep inside of him, screaming to get out.

They didn’t have time for it, though. The others stood across the room waiting for them both; waiting to leave any second now. With resignation, Steve settled on the most straightforward answer he could muster up.

“It means we’re going to find him.” Steve tilted his chin low, his eyes locking onto Tony’s. “And we’re all going to come back, together.”

What he didn't say out loud was heard, loud and clear in the emphasis of his words. There wouldn't be sacrifices made. This wasn't New York — they weren't doing that again.

Tony paused, his tongue running across his teeth before he popped his lips together, turning to face Steve head-on with a strong fury emitting from the pores of his skin.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Rogers," he started, each word heavier than the last. "Whatever we’re about to walk into, the end result is bringing Peter home. If for one second, there needs to be a decision made between the kid, or me, or anyone else, you best believe the kid comes first. Every time,” his tone was deep and rumbled like gravel. “Is that clear?”

There was a quiet moment between them. One only filled with the suffocating tension from Tony’s imposition.

Steve honestly didn’t know how to respond. Not at first. Not on instinct.

“That won’t need to happen,” he finally said, his voice too reserved for his own liking.

“Look me in the eye,” Tony demanded, the lines on his face tight. “He comes first. Is that clear?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak.

Nothing came out.

The silence only grew thicker, and the next inhale that lifted Steve's chest was a struggle. He stared at Tony, unable to break the hold the man had on his eyes. There was something about him that seemed different in that moment. Something as foreign as the magic he still couldn't wrap his head around.

It was the self-sacrificing, almost parental drive and commitment that he felt coming from Tony. It was the intrusive realization he'd been denying since the night the chameleon helmet had been stolen, finally ringing true to his ears.

Tony had changed. He'd come to accept that long ago — it wasn't as if they were both the same people they knew five years ago. But Tony's change was abrupt, not something he expected, not something he'd ever even considered. It was obvious the day he showed Peter off to the team.

Staring at him now, the flood of emotions pouring off from him — doubt, fear, panic, an unhindered compulsion to hurt those who had hurt his family — Steve came to realize those changes not only made him a different person...but a better one.

A handful of years ago, they once stood in a similar position. Steve insisting that Tony was nothing without his suit, that he knew men without such fancy armor worth ten of him. Tony stood next to him now, all but stripped of his technology, and eager to run head first into a battle they were unsure of. Ready to sacrifice himself for someone he felt was better than them all.

Steve decided, then and there, that he wouldn’t let that dedication go to waste.

“If it comes to that,” Steve preempted, “then yes.”

Identity Theft│ Chapter 16: Smoke and Mirrors

With each hit, Tony expected the next, anticipated them, and in the moments after they landed, he let his body relax. A blow smashed into his temple, rattling Tony’s head within his breaking helmet. He tried to escape, to wiggle out from under the man, his legs writhing desperately to get a grip on the floor.

Howard leaned back, panting breathlessly. “You resent your father for how he raised you, yet you couldn’t even protect a young boy from dangers you put him in. His death is on you, Stark.”

Tony took the moment and ran with it. With a grunt, he kneed the man between his legs, a painful cry showcasing his achievement. Tony gave one hefty smack across the side of his head and Dmitri toppled over, his appearance flickering on and off. He phased between multiple different people as the light-show filled the otherwise empty hallway.

Tony jumped up and dashed forward. He launched himself on top of Dmitri, planting him face-first onto the floor. His body-weight pinned him to the ground, his knees digging into his back to keep him still.

“You may be good at fighting, but you’re a damn horrible liar.” Tony smacked his head against the ground, holding it there. “Now I really don’t like asking things twice. Where. Is. He!?”

The helmet was shutting down. Tony could tell it had already been exposed to too much damage, the flickering lights bouncing off the billion nanites that ceased to function.

Dmitri’s eyes slid up to look at him.

“I’ll tell you when you’re dead,” he sneered.

WHAM!

A stern blow to his head, one after the other. Tony didn’t let up, using strength only emotion could fuel, chips of his metal suit flying from his knuckles. He beat the man relentlessly, beat him even as he damaged his own suit — his own form of protection — he didn’t let up.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!WHAM!

“Dead so you can take my money, right!?” Tony threw his arm back, punching again. “You did all this so you could take my money, you took my kid for my money — you fucking psychopath!”

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. A blaze of rage shredded his restraint, a ballistic force unleashed and out of his control. It seemed like an hour, it seemed like a lifetime that he kept hitting and hitting and hitting and —

His knuckles were bleeding. The nanites spread around him like glitter, broken pieces of magnets shredded and discarded. Only when he physically lost his strength, his body tapping him out, did Tony stop.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 17: Grace Under Pressure

When the smeared blood took a curve into an open room, Tony half expected to be led down another hallway. He instead came to a startling halt at the entrance. To his surprise, the room was a dead end. It was just that — a room.

What caught his attention was the reflection of Captain America’s shield, the red and blue standing out from the dreary darkness around them. It was directed right at him, attached to Steve’s back, telling him that the man was facing forward. Tony squinted, realizing that Steve’s attention was clearly focused on something — or someone — important.

He stood frozen in the doorway, listening intently to the sounds from within. The voice was so quiet he almost didn’t catch it.

Almost.

“Stay with me, soldier,” Steve spoke softly, his tone more delicate than Tony had ever heard it before. “Easy now, I got you, son.”

Tony furrowed his brows. It was the only part of him that he could feel move, his nerves paralyzing the rest of his muscles. But he knew couldn’t have stood there long; Steve’s instincts kicked in quickly, his head turning over his shoulder when his presence was noticed.

He never said anything. It was probably for the best, Tony wasn’t sure if he would have heard him to begin with. Not over the pounding of his heartbeat, the blood rushing through his ears. Steve moved, just ever so slightly that both their flashlights gave sight to —

“Peter.” Tony’s breath lodged in his chest.

The kid was slumped forward, only held upright by the metal straps around his arms — Tony balked, they had him bolted against the wall. He was too far away to see if Peter’s eyes were open or not. It was too dark to see if he was even breathing, the intrusive thought making his stomach churn.

But he was there. No mind tricks, no sick psycho taking on his identity, it was him — his Peter.

His kid.

Tony was already across the room before he realized he was moving. Vaguely, he heard Steve say something, the intensity in his tone telling him he should listen. He couldn’t. His focus didn’t steer away, his eyes locked ahead, soaking in the sight like he hadn’t seen Peter in two years, not the two days it had been.

His knees hit the floor with a resounding smack.

“Hey, hey…” Tony breathed out. A sense of endearment he didn’t know was possible laced his tone. He suddenly understood why Cap had sounded the way that he did.

With what he saw in front of him, it almost felt natural to speak in such a way. He didn’t fight it, he didn’t push it away, and he’d deal with that startling thought at a later time.

The kid looked so...fragile. It was impossible not to speak with such delicacy, as if their voices could shatter him. His young age only intensified the sight of his broken frame.

Peter didn’t flinch, not at his words or Steve’s.

Unsure if he should touch him, Tony’s hands hovered over his body.

“I got you. I gotcha,” he chuckled, the laugh almost sounding hysterical. “We got you.”

Identity Theft│ Chapter 19: When the Bad Things Happen

Tony could have sworn his heart would burst out of his throat. His fragile, weak, shrapnel damaged heart.

Goddamn this kid.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had wasted standing uselessly in the doorway, unsure of where to go and if he should even walk inside. The room was packed and clustered with machinery, bustling with working staff and along the way, four-hundred-some square feet shrunk dramatically in the chaos.

Peter seemed to be center of it all, laying flat on his back, motionless in the hospital bed up against the far left wall.

It wasn’t until a nurse kindly walked him in that he finally moved. He barely muttered thanks, too busy staring at where Peter laid, a vortex of spiraling emotions sweeping him away.

Relief, horror, guilt, shame, fear, anxiety — and somehow none of it mattered. Once he was there, once he got close to Peter, he didn’t want to be a breath away. Not ever again.

He was alive. The kid was alive, and he didn’t even care that he needed to rely on the beeping machinery to tell him that. The blazing flames of a burning warehouse had been drowned out by the ocean’s salty waters and washed them ashore — damaged, beaten but alive.

He’d cling to that as long as he could.

Tony shifted weight on his feet and grimaced. Tubes, catheters, wires — Peter was surrounded by a warehouse of medical supplies. A very baggy gown barely covered him, hanging loosely from his shoulders, more like a blanket than an act of modesty. A thin sheet covered his waist but left his one leg exposed, something Tony adamantly refused to look at because he simply did not have that kind of strength right now. The glimmer of a metal rod was enough to make his stomach churn. His face wasn’t faring much better, a tube snaking down his throat and up his nose, IV’s in his arms and even his chest.

Yet nothing bothered him nearly as much as the stillness.

Peter was always moving, always hyperactive and bouncing with an energy he couldn’t contain. Once Tony had watched the kid doze off in his workshop, and even then he was twitching restlessly. He was never sure if it was his age, the spider-bite or both combined. Whatever it was, it was Peter. Bouncing, jumping, jittery and twitching — he never sat still.

Seeing him so still, so motionless — Tony hated it. Peter looked as if he were only a shell of himself, no color to his face and no warmth to his body. Tony swallowed convulsively against the rising bile in his throat. This was too much.

He had thought that his panic developed more into a slow burn, a languid torture that he could handle. He was wrong.

Tony’s hand dropped from the bed’s plastic railing, resting uneasily on the firm mattress beneath him. He hadn’t meant for his hand to fall on Peter’s, his fingers brushing up against the IVs and wires that protruded from underneath the sheets. He also didn’t move it away.

“You’re good, kid,” Tony muttered quietly.

It wasn’t naive to say as much. Healing factor or not, the kid had the strength of a thousand warriors, strong-willed beyond his expectations. If Peter could have that kind of resolve, so could he. If that meant doing everything in his power to get him better, that was what Tony would do.

“You’re stronger than all of us put together.”

The beeping of machines filled the air, some constant and some further apart. It practically drowned out his voice, already a whisper under his breath. Protectiveness rumbled in his chest and his sight locked onto Peter, unable to look away, unable to want to look away.

His shoulders were stiff and his neck tense, and he never paid mind to his fingers slipping underneath Peter’s palm, lightly gripping his hand in a loose hold. He never paid attention as his thumb grazed back and forth over Peter’s knuckles, distantly remembering the comfort it would bring him when his mother did the same thing.

“You’re good.”

Tony didn’t notice that Helen let him stay an extra eight minutes.

He did notice that Peter’s fingers twitched under his touch.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 20: Family Ties

He didn’t have anything to say in return. While May had returned her focus on Peter, she could still see as Tony closed his eyes, letting them rest that way. One may think he had fallen asleep, but she knew better.

She knew he was hiding.

It was something she noticed early on with Tony. It was an attempt to keep her from seeing the flurry of emotion that always passed through him, a rush of humanity almost always hid behind some fancy pair of sunglasses he insisted on wearing, the gatekeeper to his true self. He never showed his emotions by talking, instead it was his actions. Always do, never say.

He stayed quiet, occupied with his own thoughts, but his eyes would speak more than his mouth ever could. His actions always showed his concern; he would pace the floors, repeatedly check Peter’s medical charts, go as far as to make sure the hospital bills were covered, and was always persistent on getting updates from the doctors.

But this was the longest they had spoken since she arrived at the compound, going on three days. Even then, the conversation was mostly one-sided on her part. It was like a self-defense move, as if not talking would keep him in place — in check, from getting any closer to her and Peter.

May held back a laugh. The only problem with that was Tony had gotten himself knee-deep into that pool already.

Maybe he didn’t realize that yet.

Maybe he had trouble accepting it.

She caressed Peter’s hand. For a while, the quietness returned. Never peaceful, just a lull from their voices.

“You know, my husband used to have this look in his eyes whenever he was with Peter,” May said, the words heavy on her tongue. “It was unique, something I had never seen in him or...or anyone else before. It was like..I don't know, it’s hard to explain. It was like no matter what, Ben wanted to be there. For all the good parts, for all the bad parts. He wanted to teach him everything he knew and hope he could guide Peter from making the same mistakes he had made before. It was like...he knew he wasn’t Peter’s dad and he never wanted to try and replace Richard, but at the same time...he still wanted to be a father-figure for him. He didn’t want Peter to go without that in his life.”

May let out a heavy breath, and with it she turned to look at Tony. “I see a lot of that in you.”

Tony averted his gaze.

May didn’t need to see him to know how he felt.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 21: Sins of the Father

The air is crisp and cool. Refreshing. Tony takes in a deep breath of it, his shoulders sagging with relaxation.

The smell of salt water is strong, drafts of wind hitting his face with no sign of letting up. It’s his favorite aspect of the Malibu mansion. The evenings provide solitude, moments where only whispering waves of the ocean could be heard, water crashing and beating unforgivably against the mountain rocks.

His home. Looking out from his bedroom windows, he releases a lungful of air, and his eyelids close shut, giving way to a small smile on his face. Nothing could ever take away the tranquility of his home.

“Mr’...Stark...I...I don’t...”

His eyes snap open.

Peter lays heavy in his arms, beaten and broken. Bleeding. The blood is everywhere, coating his hands, staining his skin. He grips Peter’s body tighter, pulling him closer, hugging him with nauseating despair.

Over the sound of ocean waves, he hears the wheezing, the struggle — a crackly, heartbreaking whine.

“I don’t feel so good.” Peter’s voice is barely a whimper, drifting away in the wind. An exhale of air escapes the boy’s chest and Tony waits for a returning breath.

It never comes.

The smell of the open sea no longer brings him peace. The horror swells inside of him, eats away at his bones, the sulfur and ocean-life now nothing but a repulsive taste in his mouth.

CRASH!

Tony shields the motionless body with his own, bracing himself for the impact. Windows break around him, the glass mansion shattering with the intensity of the wind. He waits to be swept away, to feel the never-ending tide hit his body like knives, freezing and paralyzing. He waits for the outpour of the ocean that never comes.

“Tony, Tony, Tony…”

His eyes locked intently on the man kneeling in front of him. He’s no longer kneeling, he’s sitting. He’s paralyzed. He can’t move, crippled to the sofa. His heart withers away with fear, decaying from the ruins of panic that steal his breath.

Obadiah shakes his head, scoffing. “Look at you.”

The man’s voice is gruff, breathy against his skin. Too close, too close for comfort, his nerves screaming danger. The weather from outside the mansion roars, winds howling, lightning blazing and thunder rolling. He’s helpless to its wrath, paralyzed in place.

“It’s a shame, you know.” Obadiah moves closer, leaving little space between the two of them. His hand lays against Tony’s chest.“I spent thirty years of my life holding you up, at your side, guiding you through the tundra of a dog eat dog world that you would never have survived without me.”

The lights from above shine brightly onto his bald head; successions of flashing lightning obscure his face. Tony’s mind hollers to get up, to run, run-danger-run-run—

Obadiah squeezes his face, hard. His other hand claws at Tony’s chest, fingers digging for a hole that no longer exists. Tony shudders at those familiar, sadistic blue eyes staring him down, the need to scream burgeoning.

“Thirty years, Tony. You barely gave that boy one, and look at what it did to him.”

His face is held tightly in Obadiah’s grasp, cheeks aching at the pressure. His eyes wander freely. They lock on the corner of the room, the shadow of a mangled body barely seen. The lightning illuminates red and blue, the suit — his creation, Peter’s livelihood — laying in a crumbled mess.

“You finally outdid yourself,” Obadiah belittles. “Did you really think that you could right your wrongs...just like that? Take a child under your wing and sing the praises of unearned, undeserved redemption? He was better off without you, Tony. Your influence is only poison, you containment and kill everything you touch. That’s why we worked better in weapons manufacturing. That’s why you’re a —”

“You’re a failure.”

His eyes look back.

Stane is gone.

His limbs move freely, no longer held down by his former business partner, someone who he once considered to be a mentor. The storm comes to a sudden stop, leaving only darkness in its wake.

And Howard Stark.

They stare at each other.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 22: Sweet Sixteen

Tony leaned forward against the wet metal railings, feeling the dampness sink into his wrinkled AC/DC t-shirt.

“It is what it is. He’ll have to deal.”

Pepper huffed a sigh. “Tony, you’re being—”

“He almost died!” Tony shot up stiff as a board, facing her head on and he forced himself to dry swallow in an attempt to rid himself of the painful lump forming in his throat. “He almost died, Pep. I held him in my arms as he...”

A shiver rippled through his core and Tony had to look away, trying to focus on anything but the echoes of haunting memories that crudely invaded his mind. The smell of musty grass, the humidity in the air, the drizzle of rain — anything but the pleas, the cries and the screams.

Tony sniffed, swiping his thumb over his nose. “People like Dmitri won’t be able to hurt him if I stay out of his life. If it means I need to cut all ties to keep him safe, you can be damn well sure that’s what I plan on doing.”

Bringing the thermos to his mouth, he let the coffee scorch his throat as he drank gulp after gulp, desperate to settle his nerves. He was barely getting by telling himself things would get easier, better, that he’d go back to how things were before and then it wouldn’t be so difficult anymore.

Right now, it was the only thought that kept him together, like glue to a broken vase. If he couldn’t protect the kid at arms reach, it’d have to be done at a mile’s distance. Right now, he just wanted Peter to be safe.

That apparently couldn’t happen as long as he was around.

They’d deal with it. Eventually.

“You know,” Pepper visibly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You once told me that you wanted your legacy to be about more than just weapons and technology.”

Tony didn’t break his stare, eyes locked straight ahead. “Your point?”

Pepper stared at him, her eyebrow high in the air. It took a moment for things to click, to finally register what she was implying. The moment it hit him, Tony spun on his heels with comically large, wide eyes.

“Him?” His voice squeaked at the absurdity of the implication. “Pepper, he’s —”

She immediately held a hand in the air. “Wait a minute, hold on—”

“He’s got an aunt, he’s got his own life, he —”

“Hold on, you are jumping way ahead of things.” Pepper sighed. “Like you usually do.”

“Hey!” He pointed a finger her way. “I take offense to that.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tony. Hear me out.”

“I always hear you out,” he insisted.

She cocked her head to the side. “Do you now?”

“I do.” Tony puffed out his chest and straightened his posture. “You don’t give me enough credit.”

Pepper stared him straight on. “So you’re not nervously rambling like a buffoon —”

“Not at all.”

“Because I brought up the slightest possibility of Peter taking on a bigger role in your life —”

Tony shook his head. “No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Similar to that of...I don’t know, a son?”

“He’s not my son,” Tony finally snapped, his voice dangerously low. “Okay? He’s not. He’s just some kid, some brat who got in way over his head and is, quite frankly, lucky that I came along to keep an eye on his scrawny pubescent ass.”

Pepper squinted suspiciously at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” she repeated.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 23: Bridge Over Troubled Water

If the injection of medicine did indeed bother him, Peter didn’t let it show. The entire time Bruce emptied the contents of the syringe through his IV, Peter stayed staring straight ahead, occasionally blinking and smacking his chapped lips.

“... whoa ...”

The effects were immediate, more-so than any other drug they had given the kid.

“Taste...funny,” Peter managed to mumble, his words thick and slurred. “Like...coconut.”

Every muscle in his body visibly loosened, one by one until he started drifting forward, to the point where Tony had to tighten his grip and keep him steady. Both him and Bruce gently pushed him back against the pillows of the bed, comfortably arranging his limbs for him.

And as Peter sagged into the comfort of the mattress, all tension drained from his muscles, Tony sagged in relief with him. The adrenaline surge left his body all at once.

He lifted a brow, waiting expectantly. “Feeling better?”

Peter wearily nodded, his lashes fluttering with little attempt to keep his eyes open. Each movement of his became slower until eventually, he found himself leaning to the side, his shoulder resting heavily against Tony’s chest.

“There ya go, that’s it.” Helplessly, Tony found the corners of his mouth curling upward, and without a second thought he tangled his fingers into Peter’s sweat-dampened hair. The kid’s head lolled into his chest like a rag-doll, and it was only then Tony realized this was the closest he had been to Peter since…

It became quiet. The few nurses still in the room preoccupied themselves with their assigned tasks and the machinery surrounding them drastically quieted down, no longer the angry beasts they once were.

At that moment, everything seemed to melt away, as if the sounds and sights surrounding him ceased to exist. Words darted away from him, and as everyone else stopped talking, he found it unnecessary to converse himself. He focused on the gentle rise and fall of Peter’s chest, the soft breathing that escaped from his mouth, the peace that encompassed his face.

‘He’s okay.’ Fingers carded through Peter’s hair, lightly massaging his scalp without even realizing it. His heart fluttered in a soft beat as the kid fell lax. It was, without any doubt, the most calm he had seen from the kid in days.

It was easily the best thing he had seen in weeks.

His wandering fingers untangled from the soft, brown curls down to Peter’s cheek, the back of his hand stroking his relaxed facial features. With it, he brushed away the drying tears that smeared across his skin.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 25: Grounds for Improvement

It happened quickly; one cry tearing off into two, choking off into more. Though the doors to the hospital room were shut by automatic nature, the sounds easily leaked out into the hallway. Managing to slip through glass and drywall and drifting away from the seclusion of just the two of them.

Tony had still been looking at his phone’s text messages when he heard it.

By knee-jerk reaction he began to walk away; his head down low, dodging the corners only by habit.

This wasn’t a moment for him to bear witness to. It felt private. Intensely private.

Tony wasn’t oblivious; he could see the anxiety riddling Peter, the distant look in his eyes and the small muscle in his chin working — quivering. The tension had been palpable, and after all the kid had gone through, he certainly deserved a break-down or two. Or six.

It was no surprise he waited for the comfort of his aunt until he had one.

An ember of jealousy ignited in Tony's chest at the odd desire to have been there instead. It wasn’t his place or his time. He said it once before and he’d say it again — they weren’t there yet.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 25: Grounds for Improvement

Stark Expo 2010.

That had to make the kid, what? Tony did the math, coming to the age of eight.

The little Peter he stared at was eight years old. Half the kid's lifetime ago.

Tony ran his finger along the photograph, the gloss lost due to age and the edges bent with the bottom corner torn.

Looking at it, and something more tugged at his memory.

He laid the photos out, letting the piece of notebook paper sit to the side. The photos seemed to be kept together as a set, all taken of this one family trip. The young kid wearing cheap Iron Man merch, hoodie and fingerless gloves with the toy helmet too big for his head — Tony realized it was Peter.

He picked up the photo. ‘Wow, kid was scrawny back then.’

Tony pursed his lips, humming. The thought ate away at him, the memory on the tip of his tongue. There was more to this, there had to be. It wasn’t that the Parker’s had gone to a Stark Expo — though he, of course, wished it hadn’t been that Stark Expo.

So much had happened that year with nearly dying, nearly losing both Pepper and Rhodey in his life, dealing with SHIELD using Natasha to spy on him — nearly dying, that served to be mentioned twice. For a fleeting moment, he almost gave up — sure that he wouldn’t be able to recall such a tiny detail in the mass of events that had occurred.

Tony leaned back in his chair, defeated, and sighing to let the universe know as much.

God, what a shitshow of a night. His head fell back and he stared up at the ceiling, recalling the disastrous monstrosity that was Stark Expo 2010. Those damn Hammer drones sent out to target Iron Man; they were lucky no one else managed to get seriously hurt in that cluster fu —

“Nice work, kid.”

Tony shot forward in the chair.

The photograph of Peter laid on-top of the scattered prints, with Iron Man helmet barely fitting his small head.

“Huh,” he found himself saying aloud, staring at the picture with unblinking eyes.

It was an minuscule moment in time, surely stored away only because his problems nearly got a child killed. Tony knew that he’d never put the two-and-two together had it not been for those photos, telling him a story he hadn’t realized he needed to hear.

The scrap piece of notebook paper called out to him. Tony snatched it a bit too hastily, suddenly needing to know what it said.

It was folded three times in and Tony had to shake it flat once opened. His eyes scanned the cursive handwriting, all the while ignoring the way his heart beat heavily in his chest.

Tony,

One way or another, you’ve always been in his life. The only difference now is you have a chance to make that count.

I trust you’ll do the right thing.

May Parker.

His eyes darted from the note to the stack of photos behind it. Tony slowly relaxed in his chair, never tearing his eyes from either of the two.

Recalling that memory was like watching another life rip open before him at the seams, a time where he only lived to feed his ego and feed it well. He realized, back then, that he was allowing his pride to dominate; coddling it as a mechanism of self-protection. It was nothing more than allowing weakness to masquerade as strength.

The photo surprised him, shaking loose latent feelings he hadn’t realized were even there. A paternal aspiration everyone had made clear to him but he had so adamantly denied.

Here Tony was, trying to determine how to best structure the boundary of his relationship with Peter and meanwhile, it had already been created for him.

'A fierce commitment.' Tony could feel his lips pursing to the side. There wouldn't be any running away, there wouldn't be any digging his head into the sand — not when a line had already been scratched out in that sand, reclaimed by the shifting tides of the events they'd suffered through.

The choice was already made for him, years ago. He just never knew it.

‘Fine,’ Tony thought, smacking his lips and folding his arms over his chest. ‘Time to regroup, then.’

He could still negative this. He could still make this work.

Besides, back in the base, he would have done anything for a second chance — a breath of opportunity to start again. To give Peter everything he needed, the whole world, the life he deserved.

The photos provided a new outlook, a window where he had originally thought there was a wall. Tony saw that he had the power to be the architect to his own life, to build reality to the desires he always wanted.

He had that now.

What was he to do with it?

Tony cracked a smile.

Whatever it was, whatever it required, he was ready for what came next.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 26: Building Blocks

Even as he went on to explain the finer details of their rescue mission, the room lacked any tension. It helped greatly that Peter wasn’t immune to the pure star-struck wonderment at hearing Tony’s stories, listening intently to how they had increased the tensile strength on his web fluid, how a magical wizard got them in and out of the place, and most of all —

“You finished the nano-suit!?” he exclaimed, nearly jumping out of bed with excitement. “Can I see it!?”

“Sorry, bud.” Tony gave a small shake of his head, his finger lazily pointing down to Peter’s leg. “It’s on you.”

Peter frowned, looking down at his leg before back up at Tony. “What?”

“What was left of it — used it for that sock you’re wearing,” Tony explained. “It’s a nanite cast, designed to promote bone healing. I’m sure Bruce will be thrilled to show you the x-rays of how mangled your leg was. He said it was in eight pieces or something, shattered like a stale piece of peanut brittle.”

Peter didn’t seem to be paying attention. As Tony rambled on, he removed the blanket that covered his leg to better stare at the thick black and silver device that he wore around his calf. It was every sense of the word futuristic, conforming around his leg from the knee down, fitting snugly like his suit. If he stared at it long enough, he could see lights run up the length of the sleeve every so often.

“No way,” Peter lamented, looking over at Tony sadly. “But you put so much work into that!”

Despite Peter’s protest and remorse for the forsaken project, Tony couldn’t muster up a will to care.

“Well, you’re more important,” he answered honestly. “Besides, I can make another suit. I can’t make another Peter Parker.”

Tony hadn’t meant to create a moment between them, the words having slipped out before he realized what he was saying. Peter stared at him, at first confused and slightly startled, before he slowly let himself relax and smile.

It was a look so warm, Tony was sure it could melt even the coldest of hearts. While he couldn’t take the words back, he quickly realized that he didn’t even want to. He tried to remember the photos he had sitting in his workshop, to remember that as uncomfortable as the emotion felt, that he wanted this.

And besides, Peter didn’t seem to be fighting it. Kid was glowing brighter than the sun.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 27: Growing Pains

Despite his encouragement, Peter remained dejected. “You were right, though. The moment I mess up and it’s ‘ Spider-Man: Thwarted by local street magician.’ So stupid.”

“Yeah, well...” Tony popped his lips, shrugging. “What do they know?”

Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“No, seriously, what do they know?” Tony asked again, piquing Peter’s interest. He finally looked up from his hands, frowning, completely puzzled. Tony met his gaze head-on. “Tomorrow’s issue isn’t going to be about Spider-Man taking down a psychopathic Russian spy in an underwater facility, all with two broken wrists, hypothermia, a concussion—”

Peter blushed with embarrassment. “Okay, I—I get it—”

“A shattered leg, a gaping hole in his stomach and back,” Tony went on, ignoring his protest. “And you still managed to knock that Bond wannabe flat on his ass. Don’t let some outdated, old fart of a journalist who’s a couple years away from retiring and starting a podcast get under your skin.”

Peter gave a soft, wobbly laugh that brought on the inkling of a smile. With it, the tension seemed to thin just enough that Tony felt comfortable leaning forward, resting a firm open palm on Peter’s shoulder.

“For every ten good things Iron Man does, there has to be fifty that the press doesn’t talk about. They will always pick and chose what the public wants to hear. That doesn’t discredit your doing, kiddo. You know in your heart what you’re doing is right.” Tony’s voice dropped a little, quieter but no less sincere. “And if I’ve been hard on you lately about that, well...I really have no excuse. I just want you to be safe.”

Peter nodded, letting his smile widen a tad bit more. The feel of Tony’s thumb stroking over the curve of his shoulder was grounding, comfortable. It reminded him a lot of the same feeling he’d get when he wore his suit — protection, safety.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

Tony patted his shoulder before leaning to the side in his chair, grabbing his coffee cup from next to him.

“Always thanking me, and I never know what for.”

Peter gave an easy smile and shrugged, a swell of warmth and gratitude replacing the butterflies of anxiety in his chest.

“For being here.”

Tony looked up from his coffee cup and gave him a wink, all charm, no bite. Any worry he had about his off-handed comment from before faded away with it, and Peter grinned as he picked his phone back up, though he was too distracted to really use it.

He stared down at the device, flipping it around, caught up in his own thoughts. He almost felt silly for having panicked earlier over what he’d say. It was just that he and Mr. Stark always had an odd relationship, never really defined, always bouncing between ‘he helps me do my superhero-ing and keeps me in line’ to ‘he’s like my mentor and teaches me all these cool things’.

But that had changed lately, since Homecoming, since he broke-in-but-not-really-broke-in to the Avengers facility. He wasn’t exactly sure what this was now, what they had become. He didn’t care either way. He liked it.

Uncle Ben would always tell him to try and find the positives out of any situation he was faced with.

Peter smiled — he was pretty sure he just found one.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 29: Breaking the Cycle of Shame

“I’m going to answer your question in the simplest terms possible and I ask that in return you keep the rising level of emotions to barely above average, capisce?” Tony crossed his arms and tilted his chin low, tired eyes meeting Peter’s.

Peter nodded a little too fast, rapt with eagerness.

Tony hesitated, taking a moment to reel himself back in. He was dangerously close to backing out, coming up with some pathetic excuse that he was sure Peter would buy in a heartbeat. But it wouldn’t do him any good, he had to remind himself of that.

This whole thing he felt going on — the ever-incessant ‘more than mentorship’ deal everyone called him out on — it was a two-way street. If he wanted to be better than Howard, he needed to put himself out there. He needed to be better than his own father if he had a shot at this.

It wouldn’t come easily. But then again, nothing good ever did.

It was that realization that pushed Tony forward, breaking through the walls he had built for himself, if only a smidgen.

“Growing up, my dad didn’t give me a lot of support. He was cold. He was calculating. Never told me he loved me, never even told me he liked me.” Tony took a deep breath in, his chest visibly rising. “What I’m trying to say here, kid, is that I don’t have the best first-hand experience with this sort of- stuff. Christ, the world’s lucky Pepper doesn’t even want children, can you imagine how badly I’d screw up a child?”

Peter smiled so softly, with such a gentle glow that Tony almost felt bad for dumping a load of pessimism on him.

“I think you’d make a great dad, Mr. Stark,” he said, the happy lift in his tone enough to break through even the iciest of hearts.

Tony smiled in a way he wasn’t initially sure he had been capable of doing. The kid was too pure for his own good, He couldn’t help the burning blaspheme at thanking whatever higher being was out there protecting that innocence.

Even with weeks building a gap between believing the kid was dead and holding him alive in his arms, Tony’s gratitude hadn’t diminished. He still felt the same, immense indebtedness that Peter was getting a second chance at things. That they were getting a second chance at things.

All and all, he still felt like it was a miracle to be here, in the now, with Peter by his side. He hoped to never lose that feeling.

“You’re a great kid, Pete. And not just because you’ve decided to run around New York a skin-tight suit putting yourself in harm’s way every chance you can get.” Tony cleared his throat, working to rid the raw emotion that laced his words. “So seeing as I’m not good with the whole touchy-feely sort of dialogue happening here, I’m going to say this once and you better listen good because I can’t promise I’ll ever repeat it. You’re...well, I’ll just say it. You’re like a son to me. I don’t ever want to entertain the idea of losing you again, not because it’ll be heavy on my conscience, but because you have a lot to offer this world and in the grand scheme of things, you’ve barely begun.”

Peter stared at Tony for a long time, at a loss for what to say. The understanding seemed to crash into him in waves, each staggering in a series of what had been the past year and a half. Germany, Toomes, Homecoming night, frequent internship visits, the Chameleon helmet, the burning building, the undersea base, Dmitri...each event began to stack on top of the other, building into something completely new.

He had always felt like Mr. Stark had been the anchor to his otherwise turbulent super-hero life. He had just never expected that side of him to transition into other aspects. Personal aspects.

And just like that, Peter’s throat began to tighten once he realized how much that truly meant to him.

“I...I don’t know what to...”

“Don’t. C’mon, learn to feel the room, you’ll ruin the moment.” Tony waved his hand, motioning for him to come closer. “Just bring it in before I regret this.”

Peter didn’t have much say in the interaction. Tony had already wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in tightly, so close that Peter could rest his chin against the crook of the man’s neck.

His embrace was warm, albeit surprising. Peter’s eyes widened enough that he worried they might pop right out of his sockets. And though he relished at the contact, he did little other than lay a hand gently against Tony’s back to reciprocate. Part of him couldn’t tell if this was real or not. In his defense, the last time he assumed they were hugging, Mr. Stark was just trying to open the door for him.

When the touch wasn’t grounding enough for him, the scent was. It was hard not to notice the smell of his cologne, different from the usual musky, smokey scents he found most older men wore. Mr. Stark smelt light, fresh, reminding him a lot of the familiar smell he often encountered while recovering in the infirmary.

It made him feel safe. It occurred to him a beat later why that was.

Just when his muscles began to loosen, allowing him to fully enjoy the moment —

“Mr. Stark, this isn’t…this isn’t a hug, is it?” he joked, resisting a smirk. “I thought we weren’t there yet?”

The words were delivered with such intense sincerity that it took Tony a few seconds to even register them. When he did, he pulled away abruptly, his face stern even once being greeted with Peter’s million dollar smile.

“See what you just did there? That was ruining it. Never do that again.” Tony waved him an open palm. “Proud of yourself?”

Peter laughed.

Tony warmed up to a smile.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 29: Breaking the Cycle of Shame

“Wait! Hold up, hold on!” Peter swivels around, running back towards them both, gripping his cue-cards tightly. “I forgot something!”

Tony gaped, gesturing ahead. “Peter, they’re about to call your name, you need to — ompfh!”

The weight of a muscular sixteen-year-old teenager smacks into him, his breath nearly knocked out of his chest before he can finish. With eyes comically wide, Tony stumbles back, Peter’s arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

“Love ya, dad.” A huge grin spreads across Peter’s face, his head tucked deep in the crook of Tony’s neck.

“Love you too, son.” Tony returned the gesture with a squeeze that may have been twice as enthusiastic as Peter’s. He only pulls away once the announcer calls Peter by name, going to pat him on the back before ushering him away.

Peter nods quickly, giving Pepper a toothy smile before turning his back on them both.

The red velvet curtains begins to draw upwards, inching towards the high ceilings with a whir that could barely be heard over the announcer’s voice booming from the surround sound. As soon as he stopped speaking, the crowd began to clap, a harsh echo of their greeting bouncing off the walls of the large concert hall.

With his shoulders pulled back tight and his hands nervously rubbing together, Peter spares Tony one more look, his grin brighter than the lights that began to flood in from the auditorium stage. His grin spoke it all— the audience could be a million strong and Peter would only ever care about one person’s opinion, only ever care about his number one fan.

Tony could feel his heart soar out of his chest from that look, overflowing with pride.

The stage lights seep in as the curtains pull up, casting an overwhelming bright halo where Peter stood. It eclipses around him, highlights him as he begins to walk on stage until eventually, Tony can see nothing but white.

He opened his eyes to the same.

“Tony?” Pepper’s voice seemed distant, but her hand was firm on his shoulder, grounding him to reality. “Tony, are you okay?”

Tony blinked, his every thought in high definition, his mind seemingly caught between then and now. The crisp white colors to his bed-sheets filled his vision, his eyes slowly coming into focus until eventually he could see even the finer crinkles from his own pillowcase.

The overhead lights to their bedroom were bright from above, harsh in comparison to the gently rising orange sun coming from the room’s window. Pepper’s warm body was settled next to his, a weight that dipped the mattress low.

“Hey...” she softly said, leaning further into his vision. “Another nightmare?”

Tony shook his head, his mouth dry, slacked open. His heart beat fast in his chest despite never having been jolted awake, never having woken up with a scream or a shout.

He slowly managed to sit up from his resting position on his side, the goosebumps that traveled up his arms razor sharp.

“No. It was...” Tony shook his head, his hand running down the length of his face. “I had a dream.”

There was a heavy silence that fell between them, the rhythm of Pepper sweeping her hand across his arm the only indicator that time still existed. The fluorescent lights from above began to dim away, allowing the sunrise from outside to cast a golden ray of copper hues into the room, bringing with it a brand new day.

He took a shallow breath in as she stared at him, exhorted him silently, softly and without any words.

“We had a kid,” Tony explained, swallowing hard. “It felt so real.”

[croziers-compass]

🤗, 🤯, 🥰, 💌, and 🧠 for the fic writer asks

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started? - Just write. Don't worry about how you think it sounds. Do not worry about how "good or bad" it is. Do not. Just write. Get all of that out of the way. Insecurity will be your greatest adversary. Improve and think about how you could re-do or write better in the future after you've written! You will never be able to improve or be better at writing if you do not first start writing! It is also okay to take ideas and styles that you see other writers use and implement them! That is how you grow and learn! If you enjoy a particular aesthetic of writing then try it out for yourself! See how it feels! But most importantly simply write regardless of that voice in your head. You can do it. Even if it's "bad" or you do not like what you've made later, do it anyway! Worry about improvements after you have something to improve upon! 🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)? - Hetero Romance because I feel like the straights are not okay 99% of the time. I do not struggle in writing conflict in romance at all! But with hetero people it simply feels unfit and poorly constructed like a sad facade I cannot replicate. 🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics? - I adore reader interactions! This not only is beneficial for me as a writer but it also builds a bond between me and the communities that I adore being a part of! It's critical to me as a writer, myself, to experience this. I do not need to share every little bit of fanfic that I write. And I do not. There are vast amounts of fics I do not share or have withheld. But the substance that I do share I share because I wish for it to become part of the community I love, adore, and support. It is, in its own way, my method of building bridges. I create. Some people draw and create fanart. Others write. That is my contribution to community. My creations and my writing is how I build those connections and so engagements with and through others wishing to connect with me about my writing is incredibly valuable and deeply, deeply cherished.

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback? - I am always open for comments and feedback. I have a personal policy that follows something that Neil Gaiman posted once where it is considered in poor taste to offer feedback unless someone asks for it. I, however, do not mind it myself for myself if someone wishes to offer it. I feel I have a good healthy grasp in sifting through what I am able to use and apply for feedback and what feedback is not particularly useful for me. I am comfortable and confident in my writing and always looking to gain improvements. But those improvements can only be applicable if it helps push me in the direction I would like to see my writing go. I also always love comments! To see and hear how my work impacts other people is incredibly important to me! Even if it's not something writing related. To see how any of my words might help someone else grow, think, or evaluate themself is so incredibly important to me. There's a quote by Chuck Palahniuk that goes: "Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known" I like to think of how my work and my words impact others as having this same effect. And visa versa. I am made up of all of those I engage with and interact with. And you all, are made up of parts of me in a way. 🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. - There was no character selected for me to run off with! so I will give you my own personal headcanon for two of my favourite characters of all time. One, Francis Crozier (both not just as a character but a figure so I suppose Historical Headcanon) - It's a small one, but he has a little charm/emblem of St. Brendan that probably is hung or stays next to his berth aboard his ship. And Raskolnikov is Narcoleptic. Hands down that man is narcoleptic.

[abalonetea]

Hi Katie! I've been heckin' Out Of It the last few months, tell me what your favorite thing about writing Abyss has been so far!

Larkspur! I’ve missed you! It’s glad to see you back around again, though! And what a fun question!

My favorite thing about writing for Abyss is really just the character dynamic. Samir and Amar are so focused on each other that the fact the world is ending via massive war and magical corruption is a backdrop to their daily interactions with each other. It’s also got some super fun fantasy religion going on that has been like, an incredible amount of fun to explore.

Samir’s curse has been super fun to play around with, too. It forces the majority of the story to take place at night and coming up with valid reasons why the market in the nearby town would still be open at a late hour, along with figuring out what vital story related things they can do at night, has been super fun.

Also the plums!

About halfway through the story, I decided that plum trees were super common in the mountains and the fields beneath it, which means I’ve been able to use plums as a main component to a bunch of the different dishes and market scenes. Tell me that a jar of honeyed plums, or a jar of pickled plum and apple slices, doesn’t sound like the best thing ever. Goat shank with plum compote. Plum jelly on fresh baked rolls. A crisp cold plum after a long hard battle.

The story also has a lot of super heavy parts that have just been really enjoyable to write, and given me a bit of a departure from what my more modern stories tend to offer. There’s a ball scene! They get dressed up and have a big fancy dance! They stand out by the lake and marvel at Samir getting to see snow for the first time! Amar has finally found someone who cares about him above all else, who’s able to show him that life can be lived more than just one cause at a time!

I just love it so much T.T

[marzbar20]

haii :3 i have no idea how to work tumblr so i'm very excited

this is my lil intro thing since i've never made an actual post on here before. i only really reblog stuff 😭 (please interact i need more friends)

my name is marz, but on here im mostly using my other names so call me jeff or tord and. i use it/he, (preference for it) and i'm veryyy much taken. i have a lovely partner who i hope never finds my tumblr but if he does then it's fine probably 😭 i'm also pansexual and homoromantic. (if you're confused it basically means i fuck all genders and date non-women).

umm... so like i very emo. i like genuinely almost every genre, including minimal country. i can rock with whatever!! but currently my hyperfixation songs are Daylily by Movements and Crucified / Witch Image by Ghost. i dress in mostly black jeans and band/rick and morty tees and my partners hoodies. i have the 2008 emo sideswept hair. i luv makeup tbh

i'm a stoner hehe i smoke to help with my issues. helps me genuinely function and deal with my misdirected anger so it keeps me a better person. not a nicotine guy tho. i luv my weed and just my weed fr.

i'm auDHD as well as having several mental illnesses. but mostly my symptoms reflect my BPD, PTSD and Autism the most. i have symptoms of illnesses caused by my bpd and autism- for example OCD and depression/anxiety/panic.

i don't have very many PTSD triggers if any.

now the fun part!! if you were wondering what flavor of autism i have, i like to write fanfic :3 i draw sometimes but i'm not as good at that so i stick mostly to writing. honestly if i figure out how to work tumblr better i will start taking requests related to my hyperfixatioms teehehe..

some of my special interests :

- Psychology (i'll pick your brain apart :3)

- Creepypasta

- FNAF (big favorite)

- My Hero Academia (specifically Bakugo)

- Homestuck

- Band :3 (band kid..)

- Melanie Martinez

- Markiplier (big favorite)

- Tim Burton films

- The Walking Dead (Game+Show)

- Vocaloid (Oliver my fav)

- TMNT

current hyperfixations!! this very much may change!!

- Gothic Literature

- My partner :)

- School (nerd)

- Band

it depends on what kin it is, but kins with an aterisk * next to their name are no doubles allowed!!!!! raaahhh!! thank u:3 i will later list some kins that are highly encouraged to interact HEHEHE

current kinlist. this may change due to the fact i havent indulged in many shows or games in ages

- Katsuki Bakugo (HIGHEST) *

- Jeff the Killer (Creepypasta) *

- Gamzee (HS)

- Karkat(HS)

- Killua (HxH)

- L (Death Note)

- Karma (Assassination Classroom)

DNI LIST!!

- proshippers

- people who ship any type of incest/proship/weirdness. :P

- people who like watch and enjoy ybc

- basic homophobia / transphobia / racism

- Bakugo, Jeff the Killer, Gamzee and Karkat kinnies (sorry doubles i am just thebonly one allowed)

- offenderman enjoyers

- people who make porn of teenaged characters. no i will not b writing any mha student fanfics sorry guys. (most villains tho? 😋)

- no weird sides of fandoms. each fandom knows what i mean fr.

- age PLAYERS. the kink way

INTERACT LIST!! PLZ!!

- similar interests

- similar personality style (i know y'all can tell)

- Kirishima, Kaminari, Tavros, Dave, Gon, and Creepypasta kinnies :3

- the less weird part creepypasta fandom

- stoners :3

- age regressors :) (the coping way)

okay that was a lot but i think that's it:) i hope people see this 😭

[77angelnumbers77]

11, 12, 18, and 31 for the ask meme? : ]

You really went and asked all the difficult ones! I'm going to put this under a cut because it will get long.

11. Least favorite kid?

Jake. I know he's thematically important but he annoys me so much 😭 I can't help seeing him as a source of tension in his friend group, despite the fact that he actively despises their romantic advances. I used to dislike all of the alpha kids, but the other three have grown on me a lot. I don't think I actively dislike any of them anymore, but Jake is difficult for me to really enjoy as a character.

12. Least favorite troll?

Tavros. I know, I know, it's absolutely horrible that the Vriska fan dislikes Tavros. Again, I don't actively dislike any of the trolls, Tavros just fails to captivate me. Everyone else I've had phases for. Tavros? Well. He never really got a chance to make anything of himself, which is mostly the narrative and Vriska's fault, but as a result, he's just a difficult character for me to enjoy.

18. NOTP?

This is a difficult one!! I don't interact with a lot of ship content for pairings I don't like, so I've actually forgotten any more niche pairings I don't ship. The most popular ships I dislike are probably DaveKat and DirkJake. I have my reasons for them both, but it mostly comes down to the fact that a lot of times, when a pairing gets popular, bad content for them becomes really prevalent and difficult to avoid.

I used to be a DaveKat shipper around the time of Homestuck^2, but most of the content I see for it feels really out of character -- even in Homestuck^2 itself, I was just really starved for content. Another thing that contributes to my dislike of this ship is a huge rise of people getting into the fandom just to ship DaveKat. The "yeah I skipped to act 4, got bored, and went to AO3" sort that DaveKat tends to attract. Not a criticism of the ship itself, it just makes it unpalatable for me.

I think it's in part because, when you refuse to see your favorite pair outside of the context of shipping them together, they lose a lot of what makes them individuals. I see this for most ships, but particularly very popular pairings. DirkJake is the same for me, plus their canon relationship is really . . . less than ideal in a way that I don't care to imagine salvaging because I don't enjoy Jake as a character.

Alright, one TWO more that I just remembered from the earlier days. JohnDave. To me they're friends! Very good friends. Best bros, even. I love to imagine their silly and wicked cool antics, I don't like to imagine them together -- which is really ironic, actually, because I found out what fanfiction was after googling something related to Homestuck for an essay I was writing for fun, which, of course, led me straight to some JohnDave.

FINALLY, EriSol also used to be a NOTP . . . ECIP actually started out because I was asking myself the question: how can I make these two work? Now I am, for better or worse, a bona fide EriSol shipper. It's not the worst thing in the world!

31. What do you think of the ancestors?

I don't think they were explored enough for me to have a big opinion on them. In my opinion, they were most important to canon in how they shaped the trolls. For example, Mindfang's role as a role model for Vriska, and how these historical figures shaped the FLARPing and relationships of their ecto-offspring. They also provide a lot of historical context for Alternia, but I honestly can't see them as characters in and of themselves.

Thank you for asking!

[videospectre7]

*takes a deep and slightly shaky breath* ... Ghost Trick.

this fucking game has consumed me in a way that no other game, or piece of media, has. Like, I know I’ve hyperfixated on Many Things in the past, but this feels so different. It’s more intense. I have no idea how else to describe it.

Every time I so much as think about this game, my chest... explodes?? tightens?? like, implodes and expands at the same time with Emotion. idk what that/those emotion(s) is/are, I just know that it’s A Lot. 

the plot, the story, the lore, everything about it is just perfect to me and I don’t know why or how, it just feels so correct in every way as if it was tailored to my brain and the types of things I enjoy. I’ve finished the game twice and am on my third playthrough right now, and my heart explodes or sinks every time I see foreshadowing or when plot shit happens, and it feels the same every time as if I’m playing it for the first time, but I know what’s happening, I know what’s going on and it still affects me like this. why is it like this?? why am I like this?? it’s fascinating and incredible and I love every aspect of it.

And what’s more is that whenever I read or see anything in relation to a Specific Character Whose Very Existence Is A Spoiler, I somehow relate to it?? despite literally nothing even close to it has Ever Happened to me IRL?? it Feels like it happened but I just don’t remember it or something, despite it being Impossible for me to have gone through Any of it. 

I am confused, I am Enthralled, it feels like everything has led up to me discovering it and my feelings towards every part of it is Much more intense than any feelings towards any other piece of media I have seen / taken in. 

it’s insane, it makes no sense but it’s True and happening to me, and I Love It. I love how much it makes me feel, I love how intense these emotions are, I feel wonderful every time I even so much as think about it, so should I just

should I just stop trying to reason this? should I stop trying to figure out why it does this? should I stop overanalyzing myself and my relation to this game and just live with the incredible-feeling Obsession with it?

my hands are shaking. straight up shaking, as I write this. I’ve seen posts where people talk about their intense feelings for media, and I’ve honestly thought most of it was hyperbole before, but now I understand. I’m finally feeling it, I know now. 

is this a life-changing experience? is everything going to be different now, if only ever so slightly due to a change in my perception of Whatever The Fuck This Is? I don’t know. I don’t know-- it’s impossible to know. 

I’ve never been so inspired to create so much art or writing or whatever else based off of something that I haven’t created myself. at least, I don’t think I have before, as I would probably remember it.

it feels like Ghost Trick gently cupped my very soul in its warm hands and imbued it with something that has led it to perpetually Resonate. It feels incredible.

I’m never going to look at anyone’s interactions with their favorite media the same way again, this is... incredible.

I don’t know what the Fuck is happening to me, but I love it.