#he reminds me a bit of another character I like. I shan’t say the name of the game. if u kno u kno

[zukkacore]

I’ve always kinda disliked Jace for being a swagless nepo baby coded loser and also a blonde white boy but ngl realizing he’s kinda former gifted kid coded made me go ruh roh raggy….

[dukesoakedoats]

Ask game Dukie!

12 - Which character do you think you would get along with most in real life? And who would you not get along with at all?

if we are speaking show wise I think I would best get along with Paddy (wow no surprise there) I don’t know I just feel like we could bond over the same things. Yearning for love but being scared of it, being repressed for your sexuality or ethnicity and being a bit psychotic. I would love to read some pottery with him and listen to his input and his interpretations. He’s also constantly told how to act and forced to be this mad dog and with similar things like that happening to me when I was younger we could simmer in that angry hateful soup. I love Paddy Mayne , dare I say more than Eoin.

NOW I was gonna write that German traitors name but I shan’t. That one’s pretty obvious beacause 1- Generational Trauma and 2- MY POOR FRENCHIES😭😭.

But if we are talking like the MAIN boys I would have to say Jock Lewes. He would just piss me off I could see it. He’d tell me off and scold me and I’d get angry and do it again (like a cat) I love that man but he reminds me so much of my irl best friend who I often argue with and I already have her for that, I don’t need another one (especially a posh one)

[mandowh0re]

Remember Me

Chapter 2

Summary: While cleaning up the timelines that he broke, Loki meets and inevitably loses the one person that’s understood him in life. But he’s not losing you without a fight.

A/N: Another chapter within a week?? More likely than you think! Beta'd by the ever beautiful @edgyvege. Go show her some love!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2303

Happy Reading!

Loki’s lying in his bed, clutching the book you had loaned him close to his chest.

He finished the book the first night of having it, and he regrets not pacing himself because he still has six days before he can see you again and isn’t sure how to keep himself sane until then. He doesn’t have much to his name anymore, having missed eleven years of his life and his home having been destroyed. So it’s not like he can turn to his favorite books or activities.

The Avengers had reluctantly agreed, mostly out of guilt because of Thor’s previous loss, to let Loki stay in the compound under the condition that he did not leave, did not use his magic unsupervised, and did not cause chaos. It had been an incredibly difficult adjustment, especially on his part, but he was willing to do whatever it took to see you again. So he did not complain even once.

When Loki had returned from timeline 656, the timeline in which he first met you, he was broken but determined. He was on a mission and refused to get distracted until his job was done. He had to find you again. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he didn’t.

So when Mobius agreed to bring Loki to this point of the timeline, he had given Loki the information to be able to find you.

You were his insurance, a way to make sure Loki stayed in his place.

So after two weeks of near perfect behavior and constant sulking from the trickster, Steve and Tony agreed that Loki could leave the compound, though only under Thor’s supervision.

When he first saw you again in that tiny bookstore, he felt like he had been hit in the chest by Thor’s hammer. He thought he was prepared to see you again. Your bright eyes and soft lips were all he could think about the past several months. But apparently, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

But you being you, you gave him a sweet smile and kindly helped him find the book you had told him about when the two of you had first met back in timeline 656. Because no matter the timeline, you were always one to help others.

And then you did something he wasn’t expecting. The possibility wasn’t even on his radar. You gave him your own copy to read, telling him it was so he had to come back and see you. He felt his chest constrict in that moment, yet at the same time a spark of hope exploded inside of him. It was something that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Then when you asked him for his name, his heart broke again.

He had forgotten to even give you his name, because he had already known yours. Your name, your scent, your favorite laugh, your body.

He knew it all.

Yet you knew nothing about him. And after telling you his name, he was afraid you’d remember what he’d done to your city all those years ago. That you’d be afraid of him and reject him, just like most everyone else in his life. He wouldn’t blame you. He believed himself a monster, just like everyone else did.

But he kept himself from spiraling into his dark thoughts with the sole knowledge that the version of you in timeline 656 wasn’t scared of him. Not even before he explained to you what had really happened.

No, you had accepted him, helped him, and eventually loved him.

He could only hope that this version of you could do the same.

***

The day you met Loki, you were a bit shell shocked.

He left almost immediately after telling you his name, and you watched as he met up with a much larger blonde man before walking away. It took your brain one too many seconds to realize the blonde was Thor, making Loki the actual Loki. The Loki that reigned chaos and destruction to your beloved city all those years ago.

A few pieces of information struck you throughout the day, startling you each time:

Number one; you had actually hit on a literal god. The God of Mischief, no less.

Number two; he actually flirted back! What the fuck?

Number three; he never asked for your name.

And number four; you weren’t scared of him. More than that, you weren’t even angry with him.

You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why. Why he didn’t intimidate you. Why you felt as if you understood him. Or why you felt like you knew him, more intimately than just having heard of him. You had only spoken to the man once, for crying out loud.

The week passes by incredibly slowly, and every time you think about your interaction or of seeing Loki again, butterflies come to life in your belly and a smile slowly comes across your face.

But today is finally the day.

It’s a quarter past eleven when the door to the shop opens, the small wind chime signaling someone had entered. You look up from your current read and see Loki taking a few short steps to the counter. He’s dressed to the nines again, wearing a dark grey suit with minimal green accents.

He looks positively delicious, and you curse yourself for letting that thought slip. You slide your bookmark into your novel before setting it on a small shelf behind you.

“Hey! You came back!” You say, your voice a few pitches higher than usual. You really weren’t expecting him to actually return the book himself. In fact, you weren’t sure what you expected at all.

He nods, “Of course, darling. I wanted to see you again,” his voice is deep and his eyes are trained on yours, “And discuss the book, obviously,” He lifts the loved copy in his hand, held between his nimble fingers.

Warmth blooms in your chest and you smile shyly. Your eyes flicker to the window where you saw Thor waiting last week.

“Where’s your chaperone?”

Loki raises a brow, glancing to the window next to him.

“I saw Thor meet you when you left last week.”

Realization dawns on Loki’s face, “Ah, yes. I must be accompanied by my brother at all times outside of the Avengers Compound. It is a term of my arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” You ask, cocking your head slightly.

For a moment, Loki falters. He’s said too much, explaining his situation could cause more questions to arise, and he did not need that right now. Because how in the nine realms would he answer them?

So instead of answering, he sets the book on the counter in between the two of you and smiles, “Nothing for you to concern yourself, dear. I would much rather talk about the blatant misinformation contained in this book.”

His tone is light and playful, so you laugh and pull the book closer to you, “Misinformation? You mean to tell me that you didn’t give birth to a horse?”

Loki rolls his eyes, “Gods, no! I did no such thing. Nor am I the father of Fenrir, Jormungandr, or Hela.” He makes a disgusted face.

“That’s a shame,” You fake pout, “You just ruined my favorite book for me.”

He scoffs, “Darling, I am the living, breathing version of the character in your book. How could a novel be more interesting than the real deal?”

You look at him, a mischievous glint in your eye, and Loki feels his heart jump in his throat. He’s seen that look before. The way your nose crinkles just slightly, causing your eyebrows to scrunch, barely noticeable. There’s a sparkle in your eye, one that tells Loki every time that you’re up to no good.

It was one of the many reasons he fell so hard for you.

“You’re very handsome, I’ll give you that. But I just think Book Loki has more layers. Ya know?”

Normally, if you had made a comment like that, Loki would have pinned you against a wall and put you in your place.

But that was another time. One that Loki desperately hoped would come to him once more.

“Well, I think that if you come to know me better, you shall see I am much more… Complex than you humans have made me out to be.” His voice has lowered a few tones, sweet and smooth like honey.

He’s closer now, leaning over with his forearms on the counter, and you feel a warmth spread across your belly. You curse yourself and discreetly press your thighs together.

But unbeknownst to you, Loki knew every single one of your mannerisms, quirks, and habits. And by default, he saw the little movement you made, and had to use his glamour to hide the way his body reacted.

Conversation flowed from there, banter flying back and forth, your quick wit almost matching his.

It somehow felt normal to you. Comfortable. It was bizarre and pleasant at the same time.

But for Loki, it was just a painful reminder of what he lost so many months ago.

Before he knew it, there was a single knock against the front window, signaling that his time was up. The both of you glanced up to see Thor, dressed in jeans and a casual cotton jacket, peeking inside.

Loki sighs, “While I wish I could stay longer and chat, I fear I must take my leave.” He stands from the chair you had pulled up next to you and straightens his jacket.

Your heart drops slightly, not wanting him to leave, and you stand with him.

“Well, how about I give you another book to read?”

“I was already planning on coming back,” He smirks, tilting slightly downward, “But I shan’t turn down a chance to read a book.”

“Good, because I love this one too.” You tell him, grabbing the book from your stash. You rip a piece of receipt paper from the small printer and quickly scribble on it, then tuck it into the front cover.

“And my name is Y/N, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last week.”

Loki smiles and takes the book from you, walking towards the door.

“Well, Y/N, it has been a pleasure. I shall see you again next week.”

***

“Brother, I see you have another book.” Thor says as he moves to walk alongside Loki, who was already reading the book summary.

Loki only makes a hum of acknowledgment, but doesn’t say anything.

They walk in silence towards the secluded alley where Loki can transport them back to the compound without curious eyes.

The silence is comfortable, yet eerie. Thor is still recovering from the shock of having Loki back, though it wasn’t the same Loki he lost on that forsaken ship.

And Loki… He’s just trying to wrap his head around everything that has happened. Everything he missed because he jumped from 2012 to 2021. He didn’t get to say goodbye to Frigga. He didn’t get to have a last look at Asgard. And now the one woman Loki is sure he cannot live without, doesn’t remember him.

They get back to the compound without incident, and Loki heads back to his room like he always does, choosing to interact with the Avengers as little as possible, lest there be a fight.

He tilts his head up slightly, eyes screwed shut and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “Friday, is it? Where is the spider child?”

“Peter is in the penthouse. Would you like me to relay a message to him?”

Loki bites his lip. Is he really going to do this?

Yes, he supposes he is.

“Can you ask him to come to my quarters?”

“Of course.”

Loki paces, waiting for Peter. After several minutes, there’s a tentative knock at the door.

“Come in.”

It opens slowly, revealing a confused Peter.

“Hey, Friday said you asked for me?”

“Yes.” Loki nods, then hands the boy a small piece of paper.

The same paper you put into the book earlier in the day.

Peter, now fully in the room, takes the paper and shoots a curious glance at Loki, before reading.

~

I don’t know if you have a cell phone, or even know what one is.

But if you do, feel free to text or call me :)

555-555-5555

-Y/N

~

“If you tell anyone about this, I shall have your head.” Loki hisses, but there’s no heat behind it. Peter is one of the few humans Loki cares about dearly. The little shit had somehow managed to weasel his way into Loki’s notoriously cold heart within the first week.

And Peter knew this.

“Yeah, yeah,” He smirks, “Why are you showing it to me in the first place?”

“While I know what a cell phone is, I am unsure about how to acquire one. That is where you come in.”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

Loki crosses his arms, fearing he may come to regret this.

***

“What do you want?”

“It’s been a while. Nice hearing your voice.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual.”

“Ouch.”

“Answer my question.”

“I want you to join us, of course. Thought that was clear by now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well, figured I’d try... Anyways, I received word that Loki is back on Earth.”

“Not sure why you think I care, or how this concerns me.”

“I would like for you to bring him in.”

“I don’t work for you. Use your own goons.”

“He’s protected by Thor, and the Avengers by default. But you could easily-”

“Like I said. I don’t work for you. Why don’t you try intimidating one of your other experiments?”

“Star-”

“That’s not my name. Goodbye.”

***

Remember Me Taglist: @idunnomayn @savinasavers @stardust-walker @evelyn-4034 @dazedkrosupreme @sophlubbwriting

Permanent Taglist: @a-place-to-blog-marvel-stuff @yes-iamironman-blog @paradoxicalblueberry @the-regal-warrior @transparentparadiseglitterzombie @marvelgem @propertyofmarvel @avngrsinitiative @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @lyricalstella-blog @just-the-daydreamer @hufflely-puffly

[suitov]

Someone said Komaegi sickfic

“Honestly, for such a mainstream, everyday, average person, I would have hoped at least for a functioning immune system.”

Makoto stuck his head out from his blanket nest, sneezed, and said “Dat’s mean.”

“Isn’t that usually how it works? The smart characters have the weakest constitutions while the thick-skulled are as strong as an ox? Life is a balance, you know.”

“Sbeaking of balance, y’re gonna drop dhe tray.”

Nagito looked down as if he'd forgotten he was holding anything. He corrected the tilt before the bowl of soup and the steaming mug slid off onto the carpet. Then, after staring at these for another moment, he seemed to remember what he'd intended to do with them. He placed the tray on the nightstand.

Makoto caught the box of tissues that had been thus dislodged. He blew his nose on one of them. “Thanks, Nagito,” he said.

Nagito, while Makoto was sipping at the herbal tea, deconstructed the cocoon from around him and tucked the sheets and blankets back into place. He plumped up the pillow, then placed it where it would support Makoto in sitting up.

“You know, Makoto, you should really br--”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” said Makoto with immediacy born of long practice.

“But it could be my luck’s fault you’re sick. Can you really keep endangering yourself for such little reward as my company...?”

“I’m not in danger!” Makoto protested. “It’s just a cold, Nagito, not the end of the world. C’mon, you surely can’t be saying you’ve never been ill before?”

For a time there was only the sound of a spoon against a bowl... and the occasional slurp.

Makoto replaced the items on the tray. “Ah,” he sighed, and patted his midsection. “That was really good, Nagito. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Makoto. I wouldn’t be happy doing anything less. That reminds me -- I brought your homework assignments for the days you’ve missed.”

Makoto's face fell. He slumped back with a drawn-out “oh no”.

“Mr. Kizakura sends his get-well wishes, along with a dubious home remedy that you're definitely too young for, so I shan't be making it.”

“Mr. Kizakura’s nice,” said Makoto, cheering up immediately. “He sent me my letter, you know. Naming me as my year's lucky student. Ab he’b--” He blew his nose again. “--he’s got a cool hat.” He yawned.

“Ah. Nap time for my poor little guy.” Nagito rearranged the pillow and encouraged him to lie down.

Makoto latched on to his arm before it could withdraw. “Hey... can you stay for a bit?”

“Ah... are you sure? I’d hate myself if I started rambling and disturbed your sleep.”

“I like talking with you,” protested a pouting Makoto. “Besiiiides... you couldn’t start rambling if you were already reading to me...” He looked pleased with his cunning logic. Cunning for someone suffering a bad cold, anyway.

“Well, if that’s what you desire,” said Nagito, reaching for the bookshelf, "then even I’m not awful enough to say no to an invalid.”

Makoto clapped his hands, wiggled his feet and reburied himself under the covers. “You’re a good boyfriend, Nagito," he yawned.

“And you need to set better standards if you're to call yourself a symbol of hope,” Nagito murmured, but he sat on the bed anyway, opened to a story about dancing princesses and began reading.

[40sbarnes]

Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Chapter 9: Fool Me Twice

9 chapters already oh my goodness and we still have some ways to go so i hope you’re all still enjoying it!! i can’t say how much your likes and comments mean so thank you! there’s a little bit of overlap in this chapter from last chapter so sorry you had to reread the first conversation but now we get to hear the readers thoughts i guess, anyways!!! enjoy <3

pairings; slow slowburn lorenzo x reader, (friends) francesco x reader (i told yall!)

tag list; @brynthebulldozer @mythicalamphitrite @nana035 @valravnsraven @hannahhistorian92

The skirt of your dress was so heavy, your desperate pulls at it leaving your leg exposed to the cold cobble below you, the adrenaline flowing through your veins stopping you from feeling it. The moment you could, you grabbed your dagger out its holster, and drove it into your opponent’s stomach. But his hold around your neck didn't falter, he simply glanced down at where you'd impaled him, and began laughing maniacally, his grip on you only tightening. Your breath hitched in your throat, not knowing what to do. A door creaked open across the street, your head snapping towards it for help. But instead, you faced Lorenzo's bedroom door, finding yourself in his bed yet again. Just a dream, a nasty dream. You relaxed into his soft bed sheets, as he noticed you were awake. Where was he returning from? Oh, Lucrezia's... of course.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, not bothering to look at you as he turned away, beginning to get dressed.

"Like stealing your bed linen," you groaned, flopping onto your back, your skin soothed by the softness.

A beat passed before he spun around to answer. "They're yours, a starting payment for last night," He had a shit eating grin on his face as he worked on the buttons of his shirt. You failed to mirror his expression. Last night cost a lot more to you then Medici bed sheets. And you imagined it would cost a whole lot more to make it up to Lorenzo.

"I really am sorry, Lorenzo." You pulled yourself away from his bed, moving closer to him. The cool morning air nipping at your bare legs as a reminder you were only wearing one of his shirts. His eyes poured into yours, his gaze unfaltering.

"No need for an apology," he pulled his jacket on before doing it up, making a mess of the buttons as he focused on keeping eye contact with you instead of them, "that's the last time I'm saying that." You still didn't believe he wasn't furious with you.

You closed the space between you two, gently dropping your hands onto his, moving them to do up the buttons for him. He didn't say anything, but his jaw clenched.

"Okay," you wondered how to approach the topic, "no apologies, but we still have to discuss it."

He looked to the ceiling as you continued with the buttons. "And we will. When I'm back."

"Back?" You were quick to remark. He had only just returned from spending the night with Lucrezia, and he was leaving again?

"The Orsini girl is downstairs. I won't be long," He almost seemed scared to say it to you. As he should be. Why was Clarice here? You were certain your little talk had dissuaded her. Honestly you expected better of her.

"I thought you said-" Lorenzo didn't give you the chance to finish your thought.

"The visit was unexpected. I was certain she didn't wish to marry. She still couldn't. But she's been waiting long enough," he continued with his explanation. You couldn't hide your anger. Lorenzo was focusing on such trivial matters when you had ended another person’s existence last night. And going to speak to Clarice when he was still having dalliances with Lucrezia? It wasn't fair... to Clarice.

"Well good luck," you kept your thoughts to yourself for once, and turned for the window as you'd finished dressing Lorenzo.

"Y/n," his hand found yours, "I shan't be long. Please wait here for me. You need some rest and it's just easier." You could tell how sincere he was.

You didn't bother fighting, or speaking at all. A simple nod sufficed.

"Thank you, lock the door after me," Using the hand holding yours, he brought it to his lips to place a kiss onto your knuckles, leaving instantly after. Why did he do that? You held the hand to your chest, confused. After a moment’s thought, you did as he said and locked the door, your eyebrows still furrowed. How peculiar. You weren't some noble woman at a ball, he's probably just stuck in his ways, a force of habit. It didn't mean anything.

A shiver involuntarily slipped through your body. You thought of just climbing back into the warmth of bed but didn't want Lorenzo to return to you that way. You didn't have anything to change into as Lorenzo decided to burn half your closet last night. You went to root in his instead, but surprise, surprise, it was all men's clothes. You knew that wouldn't bode well when you had to walk through the streets of Florence later. Instead, you made your way back to the door, trying your best to listen before unlocking it and pulling it open gently. The coast seemed clear, so you danced across the hall to what you believed to be his sister, Bianca’s, room. The door was already open a crack. You listened carefully, hoping to hear her sound asleep but there was no noise to be heard. Maybe you had slept longer than you imagined. You slipped through the crack, seeing the room to be empty. You began to wonder where she was before you caught yourself, it didn't really matter and you should really be counting your blessings. You quickly stole a dress from her wardrobe, before sneaking your way back into Lorenzo's room to get dressed. You sat on the bed beside his folded shirt, awaiting his return, fidgeting in Bianca's dress, it had been hard to fasten by yourself and didn't seem to quite sit right.

Minutes passed and there was no sign of the Medici. You had picked at your nails long enough, and decided to give into your urge to snoop. Who could blame you? It was basically your job. You made your way around Lorenzo's room, picking up some of his trinkets for further inspection, and, although notably out of character for you, you put them back. It just didn't feel right to steal from him anymore. You hated yourself for feeling that way but you couldn't help it.

Your fingers landed on a small vial in the drawer of his desk, your tube of poisons. You still had most of what you'd purchased at home, but this was your original assortment you'd made he'd taken from you. You shook it slightly as you examined it. You were still fascinated with the practice of mithridatism. After contemplating it for a moment, you took another (tiny) dose. Things couldn't get much worse for you anyways. You'd just be more patient this time.

You soon grew bored, as you weren't making any money from your rummaging, and floated back towards the door. You pressed your ear to it, but you couldn't pick up anything from the thick wood. You went to the window instead, glancing around, watching as light rainfall splashed in the puddles from last night’s downpour. No one was out for walks in the garden because of the weather, so you didn't have to worry too much about staying hidden. Your eyes trailed down to the path by the front doors, to see Clarice being helped into her chariot. So they were finished speaking. You couldn't make out her expression from where you were, but her body language gave you some hints, although you weren't sure whether her hung shoulders and dragged feet meant the marriage was on or off. You turned to face the door, expecting Lorenzo any moment. But your expectations weren't met. Minutes passed and there was still no sign of him. Your eyes wandered back to the window, the raindrops soothing as they trickled down the pane, distracting you from your inner turmoil.

A bright blue blob appeared in the corner of your eyes. You blinked to refocus them, to see Lorenzo leaving in the same blue cloak he'd worn the day you first met. He headed in the same direction as Clarice, towards the town. It was a long walk in rain, you would know. You cursed out loud, 'shan't be long' indeed. You stomped throughout his room, going back to his closet to steal the plainest cloak you could find. You considered leaving the door locked just to irritate him, but decided against it, and exited through the window.

You followed the same route you took as last night, going around the city altogether, rather than taking all the winding paths into it. You kept your head down, and your footsteps light. You still weren't one hundred percent, but you were starting to feel much more yourself now that you'd rested. You didn't feel as weak as last night, and you made a mental promise to yourself to never let yourself be that weak ever again. You weren't sure you were fully in control anymore. It all seemed so fun just a little while ago, getting all this extra coin, for basically the same work. And you couldn't lie and say sneaking around with Lorenzo de ‘Medici behind Pazzi's back wasn't thrilling. But now it was all just stress. You'd gone too far. You couldn't turn back now. And you felt like you only had so much time left on this path. The walls were closing in around you, and there was no way out.

"Is that y/n Bellondini? “A familiar voice brought you out of your spiral.

"Who's asking?" You teased, turning to face Francesco. Your chest tightened as he embraced you, somehow also feeling a sense of relief to see him.

"How are you?" He asked when you eventually pulled away.

"Glad to see you," you reply, not sure how honest you were being. His grin grew at your words. "How have you been keeping?"

"As good as I look," he stood taller as he complimented himself.

"Oh," you frowned, "I'm sorry," you continued your mocking, resting your hand on the side of his shoulder as if to comfort him.

"I haven't missed your mockery, Bellondini," his hand moved to sit atop yours.

"But you've missed me, Pazzi," you used each other's names against each other. You couldn't say you didn't miss this light hearted teasing either, but it wasn't the same anymore.

Francesco didn't say anything more, he just contained a small smirk, while you both continued to look at each other. You smiled back, although you were far from happy. You knew you could never truly be his friend after what you'd done. You could never go back to just being a Pazzi spy. You could never return to a life you didn't even realise you'd been leaving behind.

"We better get out of this rain," you spoke after a second too many had passed. The clouds were falling down with more severity as the minutes ticked by.

"We best. I was just heading home," your hands fell as the moment ended, and Francesco's grin faded.

"I'll walk you," you offered, and you did just that. You spoke of trivial matters for the short walk, halting at the entrance, where you parted your ways. You dared not enter in the way the devil dared not enter a church.

As you turned to head back home, your eyes flickered towards the docks, as if your victim would be swimming along with no worries. You were relieved to see no such thing, and no trace of your crimes left. You would never curse the rain again. Your mind wandered as you walked, would Lorenzo have returned yet? Would he even notice your absence? Maybe he would, and feel relief that he didn't have to deal with you. You recognised that you were quickly becoming a bigger problem to him than you were an asset. You also recognised you had no real leverage with the Pazzi's over him anymore. Where had he even gone? Clarice had left separately. Where else would he go in such a hurry that he couldn't even tell you. If he were truly that busy why not just inform you rather than leave you waiting. You were glad you left when you did, humiliated that you even stayed that long in the first place.

A voice in the back of your mind was whispering her name. It made sense. What was the one place Lorenzo snuck off to? But he had only seen her last night? Unless you'd thought wrong. Maybe he did stay with you all night, and went to explain now. Your curiosity got the best of you and you switched your course, making your way towards Lucrezia's house in the heart of the city. You took shelter under roofs as you ignored your better sense, and continued on your path. Why did you even care if he was with her? Because he'd left you for her. Left you after you'd quite literally killed for him. That's why.

You reached her street, hiding around the corner of a building across from her home. You didn't risk getting any closer, still not feeling in the best shape. You stood there, the rain falling down all around you, questioning yourself every second you did. You kept telling yourself to just go home, warm up and recover from recent events but you just couldn't. You stayed, watching, it wasn't anything you weren't used to. You often had to wait hours on missions, but none that you'd been so invested in. It was difficult to let your mind wander to other things, your focus was unwavering for once.

Eventually, the door opened, and you watched as you had the first time as Lorenzo stepped out. He glanced upwards at the raindrops, quickly pulling his hood up, before making his way down the street, away from you. You don't know what else you were expecting. That first night on the rooftop you'd been waiting hopefully, before bragging your advantage to Lorenzo himself. But now you no longer felt you had the upper hand. 

[signor-signor]

Trending 27th - January 2020

What have been your efforts in the campaign for SaveWOY and what are your upcoming plans to save WOY? Now this is a question worth answering!

In the past, I made a little list of the things I did to support SaveWOY and bring awareness to Wander Over Yonder’s existence and its third season plans. Since then, I’ve done a whole lot more from hand-drawn art to more intricate art. Some of them are almost as special as that signed poster @peepsqueak got from the WOY crew as a token of their gratitude.

Here’s an updated list of everything I did for SaveWOY so far:

Attended the SaveWOY picnic at Griffith Park, where I got to sign a banner.

Pointed out various higher-ups involved in the business of Disney television.

Sent several letters to the higher-ups, some of which had envelopes with an image of the downed space pod taped to them.

Started a weekly Twitter post series, SaveWOY Thought of the Week.

Made Lite-Brite art of Wander and Lord Hater, which Craig McCracken and Francisco Angones liked.

Attended D23 2017 with an Operation: FORCE drawing of Hater, a colored page of Wander and Sylvia and a few facts about WOY, and an orange pen with a green hat (I got the hat from the aforementioned picnic) - there, I signed a bench with Wander and the phrase, “Never hurts to help.”

Signed my name, drew Wander (and my own character, Jacken DeBox), and wrote, “Happiest place in outer space!” on the highest beam for Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge.

Wrote a letter (and drew Wander) for the victims of the Las Vegas tragedy with the message, “The darkest times call for the sunniest smiles!”

Got Craig to reveal the name of the ship (said to play a BIG part in S3, made a cameo in Future-Worm) when I commented that we’d have to figure out the name - his response: “The ship is called The Star Nomad.”

Wrote a couple of cards to two Disney higher-ups with the message, “A little nice makes naughty think twice!”

Drew Dominator in a situation that might take place several seconds after she passes the downed space pod, just in time for Noël Wells’s B-day.

Made the Star Nomad with LEGO Digital Designer.

Made three images in the style of the original Star Wars trilogy VHS set.

Posted 50 WOYS3PredictionPolls on Twitter.

Made an image of “The First 5 Years” with over 140 individuals (including the question marks for 3 new mains and 2 new regulars - I still want to know what they look like!) and one cleverly made Hidden Mickey.

Shared WOY-related images from my 1st 5 Years fan art on Twitter acknowledging the B-days of most of the voice actors (Charlie Adler, Kevin Michael Richardson, Ken Marino, Josh Sussman, H. Michael Croner, James Adomian, Jason Ritter, and Piotr Michael clearly noticed).

Typed a summary of how I think the S3 premiere would go.

Typed lyrics to “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’,” a song from my aforementioned S3 premiere summary. Wouldn’t it be great if Andy Bean used it?

Made a microgame with WarioWare: D.I.Y. where the player has to spin the fan to make the Star Nomad fly. Part of a chorus from “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’” included.

Started FanCharacterFriday on Twitter - more Tumblr users seem to like Dr. Otmar Vunderbar.

Made a short comic page of Lord Hater trying to break out of the DTVA vault plus a sly reminder that Disney owns the rights to WOY.

Shared a list of potential episode titles for S3.

Made an actual LEGO Star Nomad based on the model made with LDD. Hopefully, those who worked on WOY have noticed. In case you missed it, here’s a picture...

Now, the ideas I have in mind for further boosting support for the campaign. I may not be able to do most of them myself, but they are certainly for everyone’s consideration.

Provide updated information of higher-ups (if any).

As soon as we find out what Kid Cosmic looks like, expect fan art of him saying, “Watch my show and tell your friends so we’ll make that Mousey Company pay for what they did to my half-brother!”

Another SaveWOY picnic - if there’s one in my general area, you can count me in.

LP album artwork of My Fair Hatey.

A mural identical to that of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate consisting of not just characters from WOY, but also characters who were said to debut in S3 and characters who’d fit in perfectly, namely some of my OCs.

Pumpkin stencils of the main characters for Halloween.

Drawings of various WOY characters stuck on the ex-secret planet explaining why they need to leave said planet. Maybe I could also show how the galaxy’s villains would react if they learn that Lord Dominator’s been bested by Lord Hater.

Drawings consisting of SaveWOY-related messages spoken by the main characters from Disney shows that got at least three seasons (e.g. DuckTales, Fish Hooks), tons of love from the viewers and the executives (e.g. Gravity Falls), or both (e.g. SvtFoE, Mickey Mouse ‘13).

Example with Phineas and Ferb:

Phineas: “We may be creative and famous, but we’re not the ones who came up with the Star Nomad. It’s the ship powered by orbbles! Orbbles! I’d LOVE to see it take flight, wouldn’t you? If you let Mr. McCracken end the show his way, and not the executive way, which, truth be told, is the absolute worst, Wander will surely be elated!”

Ferb: “The Orbble Transporter was invented by conjoined twin brothers, voiced by the performers of the theme song.”

Irving (peeking in from the side): “Speaking of voices, the titular main character sounds JUST LIKE ME! How could you possibly resist?! And look, just because I’m the biggest fan of these guys (gesturing to P&F) doesn’t mean I have no interest in what’s planned for the furry orange fella!”

Since I’m a full-time Disneyland cast member, I should be able to make contacts with anyone who might have more clues about what S3 would entail. It might be a long shot, but if I’m able to convince Disney that WOY’s influence on my life boosted my chance at gaining employment at the company, they should understand.

A weekly Jeopardy-type pop quiz on Twitter - here’s the catch: you must refrain from finding information online when you read the answer (I bet you that the most hardcore fans of the most popular shows will get most of the questions wrong).

Example: This arachnomorph got his name from a dog tag he swallowed when he infiltrated a fish-shaped ship. He later became Lord Hater’s beloved pet.

-Who is Captain Tim?

Summaries of S3 episodes I made up myself a while back.

More fan-made characters - my most recent is an elected official of Cluckon, Mayor Spye C. Drumstick.

Conjuring a logo that best fits the status of S3/TV movie - Wander Over Yonder: The New Galaxy (the center would have the silhouette of the Star Nomad with Wander and Sylvia on it).

Brainstorming possible ideas for the three new main characters.

If all else fails, I suggest we make a web comic based on the hints we accumulated back in 2016 and what we learned from the cameo in Future-Worm’s finale. Team Sea3on has been taking that approach for SatAM Sonic the Hedgehog S3, though they are also making an animated version.

That’s about all I’ve got so far. In closing, I have several questions to ask as the new decade kicks off.

Disney executives: Are you even listening to us WOY fans? What more do you want? I’ve done so much for the campaign that I feel I’m entitled to know everything that was planned for WOY’s third and final season, especially now that I’m working full-time for your company. If you tell us what your demands are, we’d be happy to oblige.

@crackmccraigen: Are you aware of how hard the fans and I have been trying to talk Disney into giving you the chance for true closure? We’ll make sure we watch KC when it comes out on Netflix. If we’re lucky, we might see WOY get added to Disney+, where it should get that closure, assuming you’ll have finished KC your way before then.

@suspendersofdisbelief: I know you’re super busy with DuckTales and you love the plans for WOY S3 so much that you can’t bear to reveal it all in one post, but it’s been waaaay too long since we got any hints from you. Are there any other WOY S3-related facts you could describe in much greater detail? The campaign could do with more motivation.

Non-WOY fans: Are you convinced? Need I remind you what’s in the end tag of the “last” episode of WOY? You know there’s much more to life than tales from the land of Ooo, a blue middle school cat boy in a world of unusual individuals, adolescent twins in an Oregon town filled with oddities, a half-gem half-human protagonist, a coming-of-age princess of Mewni, a trio of ursine trend-followers in San Francisco, and all that jazz. If you’re not one bit interested in Hater’s origin story and all that was planned for S3, it’s your loss.

Pessimists: Will you please dispense with this unnerving “Wander is dead” talk? As a certain Popeye would say, “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” You’re not trying to let the Disney bosses win, are you? You probably used to think previously canceled shows like Hey Arnold!, Samurai Jack, and Young Justice could never be brought back. The point is, all is not lost.

@peepsqueak and WOY fans/SaveWOY supporters: Have I been of assistance? Almost every remark I’ve ever made shows wit and perception. I mean, just think. Wander is still stuck in that vault where his goal of reforming Lord Hater remains incomplete, and he has no idea of what threat awaits him. He says, “Glorn, help us.” It’ll take something big and extraordinary to convince every Disney fan (and perhaps every Netflix fan) to talk some sense into the higher-ups. Not to mention the replacement/back-up voice actors we’ll have to find if Disney takes even longer (we already lost one - René Auberjonois). We shan’t rest until we get the answers!

@disneyanimation

[seriouslycromulent]

OK. So I finished binge-watching Black Lightning on Netflix and ...

... Oh my damn! I really didn’t want to give this show a chance because I’m vehemently anti-Berlanti-verse and just general anti-CW writing, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’m on board for Season 2 when it airs this fall. 

I think a part of the reason this show works for me more than the other Berlanti-verse shows is because of Mara Brock Akil. She’s the executive producer, and I’d like to believe it’s her influence and leadership that makes the dialogue and characterization on Black Lightning just 10x more realistic and engaging than the hokey after-school specials that make up the rest of the DCtv world on the CW.

Add to that the fact that the acting is far better than what I’d expect from the CW universe, and I have to say...

I only started the show yesterday, and I’m already on episode 10 (of 13) finished. And now my biggest complaint is why didn’t this show get a full season from jump? But I shan’t dwell on the could haves and should haves. Instead, let me share why I’m enjoying this series so much:

The superhero is over the age of 40. Thank goodness! For a network dedicated to high cheek-boned youth and their parental figures occasionally offering a word of cliched advice, I’m so happy to see something developed outside of that superhero trope.

The main superhero has to juggle an actual family and full-time job. Now, like most superheroes, we don’t see him doing his job nearly as much as he should be when the action gets going, but it’s still somewhat believable that a high school principal can afford the life that he leads and have a family without going:”Where is all this money and time coming from?”

Team Anissa all the way! Granted, she did her old girlfriend wrong, and deserved to be called out on it, but she’s easily my second favorite character on the show. 

Speaking of family dynamic and Anissa, how much do I love the relationship Jennifer and Anissa have as sisters?! Like seriously. They remind me of real life sisters. Not “TV” sisters. Their dialogue and behavior toward one another -- whether they’re arguing or supporting each other -- is so on point, I feel like I’ve heard these conversations before in person between different members of my family.

The constant commentary on Black Lightning’s outfit is cracking me up. I like how every other episode someone on the street or in the neighborhood compares his outfit to something they saw in Parliament Funkadelic or Earth, Wind & Fire. :-)

Jill Scott. She was a wonderful surprise to the cast, especially in the role she played. I wish she had had more screen time because Ms. Scott just has the most magnetic presence, and I’ve never seen her get to play a role like this.

Ha! The Garfield High School mascot is a panther. I see what you did there! 

Other cameos I’m feeling: Senator Nina Turner. Roland Martin. Antonio Fargas. I would love to see more of this type of diverse cameos in the future.

Again, I know this is a CW show, so the younger audiences are their bread and butter. But I really like the 1970s music they have playing during Black Lightning’s fight scenes. I feel like it’s a great tip of the hat to the comic book’s 1970s’ origins, and well, most of the songs are just great jams. I appreciate the hip hop music too, plus the original songs written clearly for the show. But the ‘70s music is a nice touch. 

Soooooo ... Khalil? Can I get your number? Because damn if that child ain’t fine.

In episode 10, when that lady tried to drop her A/C unit and microwave on top of Black Lightning in the alley ... I damn near spit out my water! And when she said her name was, “Rent. Car-Note-Electric” I almost fell out of my chair. See, that’s something you just would not hear on Supergirl or The Flash.

Like most CW shows, one of my biggest problems with Black Lightning in the beginning is that they don’t write transitions well. For the first 5 episodes, you constantly feel like they’ve cut a scene that had some important information or character development for a scene they left in. Legends of Tomorrow did this a lot. I mean, a lot. But thankfully, as I continued to watch this show, that trait seems to have disappeared a bit and has become less of an issue.

I’m a bit thrown every time Tobias Whale makes a derogatory comment about Black people, then turns around and makes a derogatory comment about White people. Is it purely the result of self-hate borne from an abusive upbringing? Or is there a tad bit of genuine Uncle Ruckus lurking beneath the surface there?

Even though her attitude sometimes gets on my nerves, I love the exploration of a character with superhero powers who doesn’t want to be a superhero. We rarely see that explored in the mass media adaptation of comic books, so it’s a nice swerve compared to the current slate of superhero fare where we either see people eagerly wanting to be superheroes or we see villains reluctantly become anti-heroes, then superheroes. Jenn’s desire to just be normal in the face of the possibility that she might have a higher calling in life is a great trope subversion. 

The makeup on Gambi’s face while he was being beaten and after it had supposedly dried was not good. Dude, seriously. The makeup department dropped the ball on their end with those details. It didn’t look realistic at all and it was too over-the-top.

Another great trope subversion: The techie/hacker of this franchise is a man over the age of 60 instead of a teen or young adult under the age of 30. Sweet!

Can I just say the Pierce family is probably my favorite biological superhero family of all-time? Yes. Yes, I can.

Favorite line of the season: “You got to bring ass to get ass.” - Detective Henderson

Jefferson’s dad’s old house has a wood-encased floor unit television set with a push button remote. Awwww, that reminds me of my grandmother’s old TV set. 

I wonder if Gregg Henry ever gets tired of playing bad guys?

Khalil’s dreadlocks look ... not ... good. Either that’s a really bad wig or whoever twisted his hair has a broken hand.

Ahhh, so Syonide does know how to aim for the forehead when she shoots. Could’ve fooled me when she was fighting Thunder that first time. 

So I mentioned that Anissa/Thunder is my second favorite character. That means someone else is my first. And it is ... Gambi. I know. I know. Go ahead and take my Black Card away, but from the first episode on, all I wanted was an episode dedicated to learning his secrets. And not just secrets as they relate to Alvin and Jefferson. I still want to know about his past. Like, why did he say he was a “monster” to Proctor? He stayed in Freeland even after he left the ASA, but does he have family that’s missing him or looking for him? Did he look after Jefferson in an official capacity after Alvin died? Was he his legal guardian? Or was Jeff in foster care and visited Gambi a lot? That man has been some places and did some things, and I can imagine a ton of backstory there to fill in.  Yes, I know he’s the only white guy in the cast of mostly minorities, but to be frank, that just makes me respect James Remar more. I’ve been a fan of Remar’s for years. I even got to meet him 2 years ago at a convention in Philadelphia. And the man’s IMDB page is ridiculously long. Seriously, check it out. So he’s not hurting for work. He’s not up and coming. He’s not an older actor struggling to keep his name in the game. He’s a respected character actor who has a very successful career. The fact that he probably has white actors telling him to turn down this project because he’s “above” it, but he’s on the show as the anchor just makes me proud to call myself a fan.  Either way, Gambi is a cool cat with a terrible mustache, whose background is a mystery. And I’m a nerd who loves mysteries and lots of character development in my genre fiction TV shows. It’s a perfect match. But yeah, he’s the only white regular on the show, and he’s my favorite. You mad? Good. His role could’ve easily been played by another actor of a different racial/ethnic background and I would’ve felt the same about Gambi.  I pretty much like all scenes with him in them, especially when Gambi interacts with Anissa or Jennifer. That cool uncle vibe is sweet, and I think it adds a nice layer to the family dynamic on the show. Anyway, enough about him ... For now.

To sum up, I highly doubt I’ll ever go back to watching Arrow. Now that Jeremy Jordan has left Supergirl, I doubt I’ll be checking in on that show anymore either. Legends of Tomorrow is just ... ugh. But because I love Matt Ryan’s John Constantine so much, I just know I’ll probably peep an episode here and there throughout the new season. And I’ll probably be disappointed because ... ugh. And The Flash? I know a lot of people on Tumblr love that show, so I’m going to play nice and say nothing about it. 

But I’ll definitely be checking out Black Lightning season 2 and hoping that the common CW failings don’t work their way into the show. It’s a highly entertaining series, and a breathe of fresh air for this crowded genre. Here’s hoping season 2 is a full 22-episode season!

[bittlebarnes]

The Path of Least Resistance 4/?

Read on Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary:

“How old are you?” Percival heard himself ask absently.

“19, Mr. Graves.” Was Newt’s tight-lipped answer. He sat down on one of the ornate couches and thanked the house elf who had appeared with a tea set.

“You don't have to call me ‘Mr. Graves’. If we're to be married, I imagine you’ll be using my given name quite a bit.”

“And are we? To be married I mean?” -- After his expulsion from Hogwarts, Newt tries to regain his family's favor by entering an arranged marriage.

“Mr. Graves is liking you to know he won't be home tonight,” Wendi appears at Newt's side, a consternated look on her little face.

“Thank you, Wendi,” Newt smiles at her before going back to his book. It's been two weeks since Percival returned to work and he's been diligent about keeping Newt in the loop. If he's going to be late he either sends Wendi or a note to let Newt know not to worry and an apology for missing dinner.

It's different. It’s...nice. He lets his mind wander to a future where he and Percival could be something. Something more than what they are now.

Newt wonders, however, if this goodwill between them can last. Percival is, more than most, a creature of habit, Newt thinks. This recent behavior is anomalous due to stress and changes in his environment but creatures always return to their true natures once they’ve settled. He twists the ring on his finger and tries to remind himself where he stands in their relationship.

No matter how much Newt wants things to stay just the way they are.

--

"You know I don't want to burden you, Newt, but really. You simply must snap out of this funk you’re in.” Theseus had come to America to visit. A show of goodwill, he’d said, that the Ministry and MACUSA are getting along just fine. The war is over. He was staying with Newt and Percival in their home in the city. Newt tried to welcome his brother but the man spent most of his free time with Percival in meetings. Any time alone with Newt was filled with unwanted advice and pitying looks.

“I’m not in a funk.” Newt pulled his feet up onto the chaise and sighed knowingly. This was a conversation they’d had many times. “I’ve told you, Percival and I aren’t there yet. I’m only 21, Theseus. There’s plenty of time for children. When would Percival even see them anyway? He’s as busy as you are.”

“Newt, you know it’s not the same.”

Newt did know. Plenty of Omegas his age are already on their second or third pregnancies. Many of Percival’s contemporaries already had large families. Theseus’ new wife was expecting and they’d only been married six months. Suddenly, Newt’s empty nest was starting to look a certain way.

“What do you want from me? I didn't ask to come here, Theseus. This wasn’t my decision. You can’t foist me off on a strange Alpha on the other side of the world and just expect me to lay up and bear his children. You know this isn’t the life I wanted.” Newt tries to keep his voice even but he wobbles near the end, still a frightened boy at heart.

“No,” Theseus agreed. There was a sympathy in his voice that Newt hadn’t expected. Not many were sympathetic towards him, simply disdainful. “But Newt, you must understand and accept that it’s the life you have. You can make the best of it. Now, has Percival been unkind to you.”

“Define unkind.”

“Newt.” Theseus groaned. “I just want what’s best for you. You’re still young and handsome and that’s gotten you this far.” Theseus sat down at the foot of the chaise and held Newt’s gaze. “It’s gotten you and Alpha who’s wealthy and who’s willing to let you work but you must understand that there’s a cost, Newt. And I don’t want the worst to happen.”

“Of course. We shan’t embarrass the family again, right?” Newt snorted, “father would see me institutionalized before he allowed a divorce. Perhaps that's what he’s wanted all along.”

Theseus groaned at the accusation. “Don’t say that. Father loves you very much. He was very concerned about you moving so far away from us but allowed it because of Percival’s character. And a divorce isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you. If you aren't careful, you could wind up with another Omega living here.”

Something vile and poisonous curled in Newt’s stomach at the thought. It was vicious and instinctual and set his teeth on edge.

“Percival would never,” He snapped.

“It’s more common than you think. He’s got the status,” Theseus warned. Newt knew it wasn’t unheard of at all for alphas of a certain prestige to marry a second omega to help carry on their lines.

“He wouldn't do that to me,” He asserted still, certain, “I have every intention of delivering him an heir so it won’t be a problem.”

Theseus didn’t look convinced but nodded all the same.

“I just worry about you, little brother. I know this has been hard on you but you’re so strong, Newt.” Theseus took his hand then and squeezed. It was a rare show of affection, one that almost startled Newt. “You must guard yourself. Don’t give Percival a reason to make your life more difficult.”

For a moment, Newt wondered if Percival had divulged something to Theseus. Something that would worry Theseus about his future.

But Percival had made promises and, if anything, Newt trusted him to keep his word. He was safe with Percival. He always would be.

--

Newt makes the decision on a whim. If he wants this thing between he and Percival, this peace, between them to last, he may have to leave his comfort zone. It’s frightening but cowardice would leave them back where they started.

Or worse.

It’s this sudden spike of bravery that has him packing up the meal Wendi made and apparating to the Woolworth building. Percival’s thrown himself back into his work with a fervor but his health still worries Newt.

He knows his way to Percival’s office this time and bypasses Auror Goldstein’s office despite her double take.

When he finds himself outside of Percival’s door, the dread returns. This was a terrible idea.

“He’s in there.” He hears a voice behind him say. It’s a witch, pretty and blonde. “He’s been in there all day so I’m sure he’ll be happy to see a friendly face. You don’t have to worry.” She tosses him a wink and pats him on the shoulder before leaving.

It’s weird but it does make him feel better. Even if Percival is angry, he’ll just go home and eat alone like normal.

He knocks.

The door swings open on its own, Percival not even looking up from his desk.

“Yes?” He sounds irritated.

"Percival?” Percival’s head snaps up, a shocked look on his face.

“Newt? What are you doing here? Surely not another class trip.”  

“No. I actually bro-brought you dinner. Wendi cooked so you don't have to worry.” Newt says in a rush. Percival’s eyes finally hone in on the basket in Newt’s grasp.

“Oh, Newt,” He says, his voice soft,  “thank you.” He stashes his pen before getting up from his desk. He gestures for Newt to sit down on the couch before joining him.

“I'm sorry if I interrupted.” Newt sets the basket between them and begins fishing things out.

“No. I needed the distraction." Percival accepts an offered napkin.

Newt doesn't know what to say. He and Percival rarely shared conversations over meals when they were at home let alone in the man’s office. Percival was rarely home early enough to attend meals and if he did, Newt usually ignored him in favor of grading papers. If they did speak, the topics proved to be mostly surface level in nature.

“Things are going well? With you being back in the office?” He ventures. It’s a poor opening but he hopes Percival appreciates the effort.

“Hm? I wouldn't say well but they're going. It’s been more frustrating than anything.” He stops to chew and silence laps over them again.

Finally, Percival looks up at him, his brows furrowed. It looks almost as if he’s seeing Newt for the first time.

“Newt, you’re a magizoologist.”

“Um, yes. I am.” Where in the world could this go?

“Do you know what an Obscurus is?”

That’s...not what Newt expected.

“Of course. I teach a section on them in my class. It’s the manifestation of the repressed energy within all magical children. For one to be created, the child would have to endure extreme abuse. They’re quite fascinating. I’ve never encountered one in real life but the man who previously held my position told some very intense stories.”

Percival looks more enraptured than Newt’s ever seen him in a conversation about creatures. Something’s wrong.

“Why are you interested in Obscurials? You’re not, you’re not pursuing one are you, Percival?” While Newt has always believed in field experience, he always cautioned his students. The textbooks weren’t always right and caution needed to be exercised.

“It’s an open case, Newt. I’m afraid I can’t divulge the details. Just...I might have more questions.”

That’s concerning.

They finish their meal and Newt tries to put the anxiety from his him.

He is not successful.

--

Newt decides to spend his day off catching up on some reading. There’s an article on mooncalves he’s been dying to dive into but student work has really been taking its toll. Percival's supposed to stop in for lunch and Newt is surprised at himself: he’s actually excited. Thirty minutes before Percival is set to arrive, he gets cleaned up. He fixes his hair and picks out one of his better shirts to wear.

Wendi sets out a nice lunch tray for them and actually smiles at Newt. It's just a day of surprises.  He grins when he hears the front door open and goes to greet his husband.

“Newt! Good, you're home.” Percival's smile is exhausted but there nonetheless. It’s who’s with him that drowns out Newt's sudden goodwill. “This is Credence. He's going to be staying with us for the foreseeable future.” future.”  Percival's smile still hasn't faltered even though Newt swears the room is suddenly 20 degrees cooler.

Underneath the sour smell of unrealized magic is an unmistakable sweetness. Percival's brought another Omega into their home. Newt wants to shred him.

He never thought Percival would take it this far, that Theseus could possibly be right. The humiliation.

His recent kindness? The ground they’d gained in their marriage? Had it all been for show? For this boy?

Something must show on his face because Percival clears his throat and calls, “Wendi? Will you please take Credence upstairs to help him get settled? I think I need to speak with Newt alone.”

“Of course, Mr. Graves. You is following Wendi now?” the boy looks mystified at the little elf but follows her dutifully. He quietly shuffles past Newt without meeting his eyes.

As well he shouldn't, Newt thinks venomously.

“I'm sorry I didn't let you know I'd be late. Dealing with Credence’s situation has been tricky, to say the least. It took a lot to get clearance for him to stay with us.” He hangs up his coat and loosens his tie. “Hopefully things won't be this way for long.”

“And how do you expect them to be?” Newt asks thickly. Does he still have a place here? Or will Percival want him foisted off somewhere else? That's not uncommon either. Divorce is embarrassing for all involved. Better to ship him off to the country or worse, back to his parents.

“Easier?”

“‘Easier.’” The word doesn’t even feel right echoed on Newt’s tongue, “if you think I'm going to just-just allow this, you are mistaken.”

Percival looks taken aback.

“Newt, Credence needs-”

“I don’t really care what he needs. I won’t have a second in this house. You don't need one. I haven't asked you for much but I won’t entertain a harem.”

“A harem?” Percival's voice is reaching an uncomfortable pitch. “Wait, a second. You think-Credence is not going to be a second omega.”

“Then why is he here?”

“Because needs my help! He's part of the case I'm working! Mercy Lewis, Newt!” Percival looks more taken aback then Newt’s ever seen him. You think so little of me? That I would just parade another Omega into our home? Your home? Newt-"

“I heard your mother talking. She's been looking for a new omega for you for months. Ever since you told her you didn't want me anymore."

The silence between them is deafening. Newt feels his chest heave and wonders where the sudden burst of anger came from. Percival goes pale but doesn't deny the accusation. He can't.

“That wasn't a conversation you were supposed to hear.” He says finally, his voice quiet.

“But I did. And now you've kept your word.” The anguish Newt feels is unexpected. It sits like acid at the base of his spine. Newt feels awful, like an absolute failure. “I think I'm going to vomit,” he says.

Percival takes him by the arm and guides him to the kitchen. Newt takes a seat while Perical gets him a glass of water.

He tries not to cry.

Percival sets the glass on the table next to him.

Newt wipes his eyes tiredly.

“If you want me to move Credence-”

“It’s fine. You said he’s a guest, then that’s that.” Newt tries to keep his voice even but it comes out harsh nonetheless. “This is your home.”

Percival doesn’t flinch per say but his composure slips, just for a second. There’s a crack in his carefully cultivated facade that Newt hasn’t seen before.

“It’s-it’s your home too, Newt,” He says quietly, “It’s our home.”

Newt fights the sudden urge to snort. “I’ve been derelict in my marital duties. Theseus warned me this would happen.”

“Warned you of what? That I’d bring a second omega into our home?”

“Because I haven’t given you an heir. You want someone you desire.” It’s a crushing admission, one Newt has always feared. He had gone to Percival once at the beginning of their marriage, ready to do his duty, only to be summarily rejected. He’d never tried again.

Percival’s sigh is heavy as he sits down next to Newt.

“Newt...I don’t think I’ve done any of this right,” he tucks a loose curl behind Newt’s ear before cupping his cheek, “but understand this, it is never my intention to disrespect you or your position in our home. I swore you a life of contentment and it would appear I’ve broken my promise.”

“Percival…”

“But maybe this is where we get the chance to start over. When I was with Grindelwald,” he shudders and Newt wants so much to comfort him, “I knew I was going to die. I wanted to at some points. I knew you would never come for me."

“You thought I would abandon you?”

“No,  I just didn't think I'd given you reason enough to care.” Percival huffs another sigh, “but you came anyway. You came and you saved my life.”

The urge to cry is suddenly back. Newt doesn't like to think about how close Percival came to death.  “I knew something was wrong. I should have come for you so much sooner, Percival.”

“There was nothing more you could have done and I don’t blame you for staying away. I know that you care. I just hope you know that I care for you as well.” Percival’s voice is so gentle that Newt has to fight the urge to curl into him.

It's not love.

But, then again, Newt didn’t marry Percival for love.

“I will never intentionally hurt you,” Percival says and Newt knows it’s a promise, “regardless of whether we have children. I’ll never have a need for a second.” He presses a the softest of kisses to the crown of Newt’s head and Newt breaks. He curls into Percival’s shoulder and finally exhales.