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wingedcat13 · 2 years

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Synovus: Siren Call (1)

[Surprise! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! I took a break from writing these for a bit, but I did want to get through the idea I had about something from Minerva's perspective. This one is in third person, set after Villains Never Retire. No idea what I'm talking about? Check out the first of the Synovus works here! There'll be a bit of a delay, but this one will join the rest of the Synoverse up on Ao3 here. How many parts will this be? I've learned my lesson, I'm not estimating.]

Minerva had stopped expecting her life to be ‘normal’ before she’d graduated High School.

When at 16 you were already having to downplay your physical strength to avoid taking doors off of their hinges, and realizing that you could never, ever join the swim team even if you could absolutely destroy any of the times they posted, there were a few other things your mind put together in the background.

Like the fact that you would never be safe again.

Hiding things about herself wasn’t exactly conducive to the kind of relationship she wanted, so romance was dead. That was fine at the time, actually, most of the people she’d been interested in had turned out to be more interested in… well, a variety of things ranging from other people to free emotional support. The point was, she’d been more upset by the idea that any of her personal goals for a career were now permanently marred by the terror that she’d have to do some kind of blood test that would brand her as a ‘cape.’

And that it would have to be hidden was never even a question. Sure, there were heroes around who people were proud of when she was younger. But every so often, those heroes would go out to fight, and be seen again as scorched remains in a crater left by a man called Sunhallow. Other villains, too. People said he was targeting anyone who might be a threat to him if they didn’t work for him.

Kids in her classes had mostly made fun of the costume.

Even after Sunhallow’s disappearance and rumored death, when she was in her senior year, people were wary. Things like Sunhallow didn’t just die. They always came back. There was always a second shoe to drop.

And no one knew about her then, not yet, so she thought maybe... maybe she could live a little?

Going off to college had felt like the last chance she had at any degree of ‘normalcy’ and even that was tempered by the gnawing sense of something missing, something wrong. She’d put it down to anxiety about her classes and pushed through it, sure it would eventually pass.

Minerva hadn’t been a teenager for about two decades now. But that sense of… something missing had never really gone away.

She'd experimented with drinking and with a few variations on marijuana, and a variety of at-home remedies like aromatherapy and meditations. She'd tried a therapist, twice, even though she felt like she couldn't tell them everything about herself, and she knew that kind of defeated a lot of the point of therapy. And that gnawing feeling continued, until it seemed stranger to imagine a world without it.

There were times it was so muted, so quiet that she could forget about it - when she was in a fight, or diving, or when Alexandria had been little. Sometimes Albion could drive it away, and make her feel sane.

But she’d never felt quite as… at peace, as she did when she was in costume. That was the only time, the only place, that the sense of something missing really faded away.

Plenty of people had told her that every cape had something deeply wrong with them, to be the kind of person to do what they did. Minerva had never corrected them.

—-

“You’re awake early.”

Minerva glanced over one shoulder, unsurprised to see Synovus draped against half of her doorframe. She’d left the door open, and Synovus was very carefully on the edge where she could shut the door in their face, if she’d wanted. Trying not to be an intrusion, even as they unrepentantly stuck their metaphorical nose into her business.

“Judging by your face, you haven’t slept.” Minerva said critically.

Synovus made a noise of mock dismay, and Minerva risked giving them a closer look. Yes, the bags under their eyes were more pronounced than usual, and their hair was a barely-contained mess, but none of that worried her. The haphazard state of their clothing was, frankly, par for the course around the island these days.

“Evil never sleeps, m-Minerva.” The slip up was slight, covered for quickly and smoothly. Once, she wouldn’t have caught it. Now, she knew Synovus better.

‘My Dear Minerva,’ they’d almost said.

Minerva ignored it.

“I’m taking that trip to the mainland I talked about.” She explained, turning her back on the most confusing human being she’d ever known in favor of checking her case’s contents for the third time.

Synovus hummed, and Minerva stiffened on reflex. She relaxed almost as quickly, but still mentally scolded herself. Synovus hummed when they were uncertain of themselves, not to try and trap her into an argument. They’d said several times that she was both welcome to stay and to leave at her discretion.

This was normal. This was fine.

“If you should… need anything, while you’re out there-“ Synovus was picking their words carefully, skirting around potential condescension or worry to come off as affable, almost disinterested. It didn’t really work.

“I will be fine.” Minerva says firmly, turning to glare if need be.

Instead, she meets Synovus’s gaze. Their eyes are clear for the moment, no shadows flickering, no lights swirling. Instead, the only thing she sees in them is… confidence.

“I know.” Synovus says, and even the faint lilt of humor isn’t enough to hide the certainty in that statement. They clear their throat, “I have no misgivings about your strength and ability to use it, Lady Minerva. But, should you wish to be better than ‘fine’ while out and about in the world…”

They trail off, and Minerva wonders, idly, if it’s possible to push them so far into discomfort that they start using ‘thee’ instead of ‘you.’ She’d rather think about that than the sheer faith Synovus had in her, and what that might mean aside from further proof Synovus was -

There were too many ways to finish that sentence. Her mind rejected all of them with a studious determination before Synovus realized she wasn’t going to finish their sentence either.

“… you will call?” They asked softly.

A few months ago, Minerva might’ve sneered at the implication she would ever ask Synovus for anything. But then she’d been captured, ‘outmaneuvered’ by a pair of up-and-coming villains with a hostage trick, and then each and every one of her backup plans came crashing down when her daughter had been thrown into a trap right beside her.

And then there had been rain in the desert, and the sound of a Villain’s taunt ringing through the spire’s PA system, and eventually - Synovus themself, there to take both of them home. Even if they’d had several reasons to do it that had nothing to do with her, or Alexandria.

“One day, Minerva.” Synovus had murmured then, “I'm going to prove to you that my affection for you is not a trap”

“I’ll call when I’m on my way back to the island.” Minerva said coolly now, closing a mental door on the reverie. “If only so you don’t wake your entire staff in a panic.”

Synovus winced. A week prior, the sensors that alerted any Cape’s approach to the island had mis-triggered, mistaking a particularly dense patch of seagulls for someone with flight making an unauthorized approach. Watching the way everyone leapt to alarm stations and fell immediately into place had been impressive. Watching a sleep deprived Synovus throw their helmet at the birds (and miss) once they’d realized what had happened had been hilarious.

"Who's panicking?" The bleary voice comes from behind Synovus, and they shift aside to let Alexandria through.

Minerva's wayward teenage daughter looked like she was still contemplating waking up - like her body had just gotten ahead of schedule, and the rest of her hadn't caught up yet. Synovus ruffled her hair affectionately as she passed.

"No one yet, though the night's still young." Synovus replied, while Alexandria stepped forward to hug Minerva.

Minerva was still trying to learn not to hug too tightly, every time something happened. Logically, she knew there was nowhere in the world safer than Synovus's island. And she knew her daughter could defend herself.

But Minerva had been afraid of losing her long before she'd ever been born, and that fear didn't die easy.

"It's seven in the morning." Minerva scolded over Alexandria's shoulder.

Synovus frowned, and made a show of finding their phone to squint at the time it displayed. Their frown deepened, as though they had caught the bit of technology lying to them.

Alexandria had shifted from a full hug to standing to one side, still leaning on Minerva. "I'll call Rosie." She threatened. The yawn that cut her off kept her from living up to her chosen moniker.

Synovus shrugged, slipping the phone back into a pocket. "I won't sleep any faster if they're yelling at me." They point out. "Anyway, your mother-" It was always 'your mother' in front of Alexandria, "-agreed to call ahead on her way back. So we don't get another birdstrike scenario."

"It'd be more like the time with the dolphins." Alexandria remarked. Minerva raised a brow, looking from her daughter back to Synovus, who turned both hands palm up and looked mildly chagrined.

"Nevermind, I'm sure I don't want to know." Minerva says, waving it off both to avoid the headache, and because she's still itching to get going.

Alexandria knows the tone well enough - she gives Minerva another squeeze, then slips away to join Synovus by the doorway. She yawns again, and calls back over her shoulder, "Tell Gran and Gramps I said hi."

When she's gone again, Synovus and Minerva consider each other - one hesitant, the other wary. After a moment, Synovus extends a hand, offering, "Safe travels."

Minerva checks their palm for a sign of something they might be trying to slip her before shaking it. "Thanks." She said flatly.

And if she finds herself rubbing her fingers on the walk down to the beach, well, it's a subconscious tic. Unrelated.

---

There’s a common phrase that’s worked it’s way into becoming a whole saying.

“You never forget your first.”

For most people, that’s a marker of a degree of intimacy - a first crush, a first kiss, a first sexual experience. But it holds true for other things as well - like a first horrific allergic reaction. And arguments can be made that that’s all love really is, anyway.

Among the caped community, there’s a different list of firsts. The first person you told about your abilities. The first time you found out you had abilities. The first other hero you’d ever met. A popular ice breaker at parties is ‘the first person you ever saved.’

Less popular are the counterpoints: the first person you couldn’t save. The first villain you encountered. The first time you had to choose in the heat of a moment, and you chose wrong.

For Minerva, a terrifying amount of her caped ‘firsts’ have the same name - Albion.

He’d been the first person to find out about her abilities, and the first powered person she’d ever met face to face. A misunderstanding wherein he thought she’d been swept out to sea by a riptide and she assumed the figure dropping from the sky was out to get her had resulted in a very confused half-fight, wherein they’d saved each other from their own nonsense.

She’d thought once that that was how it would always be - saving each other. Things had turned out more in favor of the slap-fighting and misunderstandings.

—-

Minerva is working up the courage to get out of her car when her phone buzzes.

Alex: So how’s it going?

Despite herself, Minerva smiles, just a little. She can’t put her finger on why, and doesn’t try to.

Min: I’ve only just gotten here. Haven’t even knocked on the door yet.

Alex: Okay, then how was the drive?

Min: It was fine.

Minerva grimaces. That feels insufficient. She wracks her memory for something else to add, but the drive was hardly anything, nothing stands out. Before she can come up with something else, there’s a response:

Alex: Y’know, I should’ve offered to fly you over.

Minerva raises an eyebrow.

Min: And why’s that?

Alex: I still want to let you talk to them alone and everything, but they could’ve just seen me drop you off, and been like “who’s that really cool goth girl?”

Alex: And you could say something like “I have much to tell you” and bam, ice broken.

Min: Is Synovus giving you advice on dramatic entrances?

Alex: You never told me that one time they stole a whole cruise ship for the ambiance.

Min: Is that what they’re calling it?

Minerva’s mouth twitches again. Yes, Synovus had commandeered a cruise ship, and spent the whole fight spouting off about how it was good to have ‘variety’ in one’s combat scenarios. They’d also convinced part of the ship’s entertainment crew to set up a big ‘reveal’ of who had taken over the ship, as though anyone else would’ve bothered to think of musical cues.

She’d been tempted to sink the ship.

While Alexandria goes briefly radio-silent - presumably to grill Synovus for more details on the cruise ship story - Minerva looks up towards the house she’s never seen before.

It’s a relatively unassuming one-story. It’s ten minutes on foot from here to where the coast starts, and she could have her feet in the water by the fifteen minute mark. The sound of the waves is different here than it is on the island - there aren’t any cliffs or underwater tunnels, only the long smooth curve of a beach made more of rocks than sand. It’s soothing.

A twitch of a curtain in one window reminds her she’s looking at the house, not the ocean. Mentally, she scolds herself for wasting time.

She allows herself one last white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and one last deep breath.

Then Minerva gets out of her car, and goes to talk to the parents she hasn’t seen in seven years.

—-

When Minerva became a hero, it went something like this:

She’d always been a strong swimmer. Her family lived near the water line, always, so it wasn’t unusual for her to come into contact with the ocean at least once a day, when the weather was fair, and rain or snow when it wasn’t.

Her parents had always seemed overly cautious about calling her out of the water before it got too cold, or before she could get too tired, but that’s any child’s perspective. She wouldn’t get sick from a bit of splashing around, even if there were frost films on the windows and flurries in the air. And as she got older, they trusted her to know her limits more and more, and her confidence had only grown.

Which was why, when they’d seen the small crowd gathering at the road not far from where they lived at the time and heard the murmurs that someone had been swept out to sea, Minerva had been absolutely certain that she could save them.

She’d gone home, put on her wetsuit, and been out of her window in minutes. It wasn’t hard to find a cove out of sight of the news crews and nervous watchers. And even as the light was dimming, she didn’t feel afraid.

Because once Minerva was in the water, nothing could touch her.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t feel the currents, the motions of the waves - she did. They just didn’t have sway over her unless she allowed it. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t tell the light was darkening, or the temperature falling - she could. They were just minor shifts, like the movement of a sunbeam across her arms while she read in the windowsill.

So Minerva had swept out on the same current that had ripped a man from the shallows, and looked for the signs of a person’s floundering.

This, admittedly, had been the weakest part of her plan, because she had no idea how to find someone in the vast expanse of potential that was the ocean. All she really had going for her was that she was fast, could manually follow the currents, and didn’t get cold. And, she eventually realized, she might’ve been looking for a corpse instead of a person, and how would she find that?

Those doubts had just had time to start to settle when she found him.

Minerva never did learn his name, but he was a few years older than her, there visiting his family, which was why he hadn’t known the signs he needed to look out for. He knew what a riptide was, and that he was supposed to try and swim parallel to shore to escape it, but everything happened so fast and it was so cold, that all he could really do was tread water. At least, that’s the story she got out of him as she towed him back to shore.

The only time her courage had faltered had been when he’d asked for her name, after she’d brought him to the secluded cove, and directed him towards the crowd.

“You saved my life.” He’d explained, still dazed and weak. “Who do I - how do I thank you?”

And there had been a sudden feeling of ice water down her spine, as she’d remembered the stories of what happened to people who were saviors.

“Tell them a Naiad saved you.” She’d called, moving back into the waves. “It’s true enough!”

There’d been speculation that he misheard her, and that her name was ‘Maya’ for a while. But in the end, the story faded - and Minerva never forgot.

—-

There’s no good, simple way to repair a cut tie with someone you love.

Whether things frayed until they snapped, withered and disintegrated, or were cut cleanly, that thread can never be respun. You have to start over, and try and weave with the tangled threads of what’s left.

Sometimes the threads are still the same color - soft pastels of passing friendships that blend well enough when they’re given the opportunity. Sometimes you find that while you weren’t looking (and sometimes when you were) the threads have been dyed, and the red that meant love once has been shot through with the purples of bruises and resentment, its original hues shifted to rage. That was what Minerva expected to find, when she came home. That’s what most of her own tapestry looked like these days, after all.

Instead, she found the golden honey color of home.

—-

It took a few hours for them to all wind up at the kitchen table. They’d covered for some of the awkwardness by showing her the house - her father’s most recent crochet project, pictures of last year’s garden, how her mother had finally decided to organize the spice cabinet after six years of deliberation and relabeling.

(She’d frowned and swapped two canisters while Minerva’s father wasn’t looking, and Minerva nearly cried at the familiarity of it.)

Then had come the insistence of refreshments, of warm drinks against the coolness of the weather. The porch was a bit damp, and the living room a bit dark, but the table was mostly clear so long as she didn’t mind shuffling aside a few skeins of yarn, would that do?

And so they’d settled in, as the rain drummed softly into the roof and dripped from the overhang that shielded the window. And her father had taken a breath, met her eyes, and said,

“We love you. And you don’t owe us a damn thing.”

Minerva had blinked. That wasn’t what she was expecting.

Her mother nodded firmly, adding, “Not an explanation, not an apology - if you want to talk about any of it, Min, you know - I want you to know - that we’ll listen, anytime, anywhere. But if all you want is to come over for dinner, then that’s all we’ll do.”

Minerva stared at her cup, trying to think of where to begin. What would be polite - no, they didn’t stand on manners with family. What would be right- well, by whose standards? What did she want?

Finally, she croaked, “I think I - I want you to ask.”

And so they did.

And so Minerva told them.

She told them about how she’d become slowly convinced that her continued nearness to them was putting them in danger. She told them about how Albion was always reminding her of the need to be cautious, the importance of not ever being caught. She told them about how sometimes he’d bring up the Sunhallow purges, and try to make a plan for what they’d do if it ever happened again.

She told them about how he’d begged her to make the move, citing crime rates and health statistics and population graphs, anything to get her to concede they would be better - safer - away from the city, further inland. If not for her, then for their child. And how she’d eventually caved, because if he was so worried, and this would bring him more peace of mind, then she could bear it. It would keep the people she loved safe.

She told them about how she’d tried to look into finding a place near water - a lake, a pond, a river. Every time, Albion had assured her that he was keeping that in mind, but that he’d handle it, really. She didn’t need to stress, especially when she was keeping up with so much otherwise. He admired her for being able to manage so much, the house and the hero gig, and could he just do this one thing for her?

She told them about how the house had been twenty minutes away from the nearest large water source. About how she’d begged him for something - anything. A koi pond. A pool. A goddamned well.

“Think about how that would look to the neighbors, ‘Thena.” He’d said worriedly. “I know you - you get underwater and you don’t come out for hours. They’ll think you’re drowning yourself.”

So they’d bought the largest tub she could find, and she’d spent as much time as she could submerged in it, staring at its porcelain sides and the bathroom lighting and feeling like a fish in a bowl. She’d told herself it was a selfish thought.

She told them about how he would sometimes grab her too roughly, or slam things around her. Sometimes it was a joke, played off as training her instincts. Sometimes it wasn’t.

“I just - you’re the only person in the whole world I can let my guard down around.” He’d muttered to her, mid-apology after a shove had left her sternum aching and purple. “I love you so much, I don’t stop to think.”

Somehow, she’d wound up being the one comforting him.

And she chokes out how having accepted those reasons made it easier to believe them herself, when Alex had the occasional bruise. When she reached out to slap her hand away from something, or pulled a bit too roughly. It felt like validation for everything Albion had said - look, it was easy to fall into. It didn’t mean anything.

It happened all the time.

And there was no one, by then, to tell her otherwise, because friendships were liabilities and risks that they couldn’t take, because it wasn’t right to endanger others with a secret they would never share. There were no work friends. No PTA rivalries. No soccer parent associations.

There was only the house, and the freedom that came from going out in costume. And even then, there could be no interviews, and every statement had to be carefully measured so that no one - not a villain, or a civilian, or even another hero - could learn something they shouldn’t.

Laying it out like this, Minerva realizes that it’s no wonder she only ever felt like herself in a fight. It was the only time she didn’t have to hold back any part of who she was.

She’s expecting her parents to condemn her for not realizing when she’d turned from - (her mind skitters away from the term ‘abused’) bystander to accomplice in Albion’s behavior. She’s expecting hurt that she didn’t trust them to make their own decisions about risks. She’s expecting them to say they taught her better than this.

Instead, they listen. Even when there are times one or both tightens their grip on their mugs, or wrestles to avoid showing some emotion (because it is no mystery where she got her temper; none of them are strangers to righteous rage) they do not interject outside of the quiet, prompting questions. And when she finally stumbles to a halt, before she’s even gotten to Synovus and the kidnapping, her mother comes to kneel beside her and wrap her arms around her, while her father stands at her other shoulder and does the same.

“You’re free now?” Her mother asks, running her fingers through Minerva’s hair. “You and Alex both?”

Minerva nods. She clears her throat, enough to force two words out, “Albion’s dead.”

She realizes that there’s an implication there, that she wielded the spear that killed him. The idea doesn’t hurt as much as it would’ve once - but neither of her parents so much as blink.

“Good.” Her mother says firmly. “Then that’s all you need to focus on right now, Min. No matter how long it takes you to untangle the knots he’s tied you in - you’re free.”

—-

Truth be told, Minerva doesn’t know when her parents figured out she had powers. For all she knows, they had known since she was born.

But one night, when she and Albion had been staying with her parents for a week, and they’d gone out to fight, they came back to see one of her parents on the porch, the other in the windowsill.

“You’re both alright?” Her father had asked.

No surprise. No exclamations. No how-could-yous. Concern. Acknowledgement. A reminder of when breakfast would be ready.

And that was that.

—-

The guest room in their new house isn’t the same as a childhood bedroom, but to Minerva, it feels similar. She’s under their roof again, with all the reflexive memories and half-forgotten ones tugged along with them.

She had expected to feel… well, different. Not good, probably kind of bad. And she didn’t feel lighter yet, the way people said confessions were supposed to make you feel. Instead, Minerva felt… raw. Sticky. Like the truth she’d tried to ‘set free’ had just come back to cling to her.

She was too emotionally exhausted to try and parse that. Better to get some sleep, if she could.

Minerva unzipped her suitcase, flipping it open on the bed. Her suitcase, that she’d checked so many times over. The suitcase with all of her clothing and things in perfect organization, untouched.

And a postcard sitting loose on top of them.

It had to have been custom-made. There was no stamp, for one thing, no actual postal markings. Just the same shape and size, with the same stylized ‘Wish you were here’ emblazoned across a picture… a picture of Synovus. On the beach. In full costume. With the necessary additions of a woven wide-brim hat and loose Hawaiian floral shirt left unbuttoned, on top of the helmet and body armor. They were holding a glass of juice with a little umbrella and a silly straw.

Alone in this bedroom that wasn’t hers, but might’ve been, Minerva burst out laughing.

#Synoverse #Siren Call #Naiad #Synovus #tw abuse mention #Did I sit on this for an absurdly long time?#Yes #Did I know immediately that I wanted that fucking postcard to be in this piece?#Also yes

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tiajk · 9 months

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Here are the black batsis head cannons

warnings: crack, Love lots of it, shitty parents, sibling bonds, things that only make sense to black people, so sad racism, your a vigal i’m this

This is one of the things you guys voted so here you

So for the sake of the plot you are very very african like you have the accent and everything (it can be whatever you imagination chooses light heavy whatever ) bruce had known you through a drug deal he had busted your father he's was selling drugs when bruce chases him all the way to your apartment your home he had found your mother overdosed your father now where to be found and you just sleeping in the room

You waking up when you feel a certain caped crusader watching you in your sleep

When gordon and the police came they took your mother to the hospital she didn't make it your father they caught him at the bar and he is going to prison for the rest of his life

Gordon knows he has a thing for kids that need a home

You had gone home with im the next day and had been apart of the batfam ever since

You had been adopted right after Jason so that made you the first girl (before he died) Dick was 17 Jason was 12 you were 11

You and dick weren’t that close because of the age gap but he made it work he visited the manor more for you and Jason like going on missions together and dropping you off to school you made fun of his red head fetish a lot tho

you and Jason were the closet because of your age but you guys shared some of the same interest reading is the most common one. something you guys do a lot is trade books you will read his stuff and he’ll read your it’s like a little book club

now you and tim were very rough at first of course you were mourning jason’s death and tim comes along it was alot,for you but you loved him no matter what

Damian….when you guys met he thought you were like everyone else unimpressive and unimportant but you treated him the same way it only lasted for a week when he saw you in the garden drawing the scenery a way to relax but you guys relate to each other the most because your both not white it’s connects you guys more

Stephanie and you were close asf she was always in love with who you are and your confidence you guys would always have girl days with cass ofc she would do you make-up a lot she wants to experiment because the boys are all the same and Damian won’t let her (unless you ask him)

now you and cass when she came to the manor she didn’t talk much and your were just fine neither that you were her voice in situations and when she started to talk you were so proud of her you always helped her no matter what

NOW U AND DUKE WERE LOCKED INN you guys are the only African-american people in the house so y’all just did things that made sense to you guys like taking your shoes off in the house, WASHING the chicken before you season it but anyways whenever the family said some where people things y’all gave each other the “I know he didn’t just say/do that” the family doesn’t understand for example one time it was your birthday your 21st birthday you had 2 of the biggest and i mean biggest party possible the first one was for bruce’s friends and all the fake bitches that were only there for money and show themselves off

the second party was for your friends and siblings like the justice leagues kids and every true friend you’ve grown to love over the years after cleaning the party you guys would hear a noise from down the hall jason and his bright mine said let’s go check it out before the rest of the fam could find you two y’all had already bolted sure you were vigilantes but you were not doing no scary shit tonight

Alfred he loved you with all his heart dont tell the others but your his favorite he teaches you how to cook his food and you can do it perfect your the only one who hasn’t and ever will get a ban from the kitchen

Bruce and you weren’t always the nicest to each other but you love each other to death your just like him a workaholic and doesn’t take brakes unless there needs to be sometimes not even Alfred can pull you away but bruce comes and carry’s you like the little girl he wish you still were you TRY and i mean TRY to teach him how to cook it’s terrible tho

Selina was like your mother too you she thought you how to be strong like nothing else you guys went on a few heist together she always listens to you when no one else does she’s always there for you

One thing that the batfam will do for any and all is protect one another from racism,villains anything

you also got flirted with a lot by wally,roy, anything that could lay there eyes on you and they all hated it

#tiajk #batfam x batsis reader #batfam x reader #black coded reader #black reader

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peachyonepiece · 7 months

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appears looking at you with autism creature eyes. hello @sangerie your vs bros fankids (one of which i had a hand in making bc. glances at the reblogs/notes in @loopyarts post. i have confessed there fskakfafsga) are really really neat .u.

SPEAKING of loopyarts ty for allowing me to take inspo for nijis kids raid suit fit!! i really liked the softer yellow and the thicker lightning bolts on his pants you gave him so tysm for letting me yoink it <3

uh uhh individual pieces and also design/character rants under the cut bc. i wanna.

RAID SUIT RAMBLING TIME bc i spent the most time on those. also you might be asking 'why is only their hair rendered in those pieces?' well the answer is because i am Lazy. moving on . (/HJHJ i AM lazy but also rendering it further would mess up the colors and i didn't wanna do that lmao. carrying on..)

Ichiji's daughter i am so SO proud of her fit. i did not look up a reference or even inspo ideas at all, that all came from the ole noggin baybeee. anyways she is obviously based off a magical girl(s) fit bc she wants and DESERVES to be. also since Reiju doesn't have any kids of her own (based wine aunt) i also decided to let Little Red have some of her motifs instead of just purely Ichiji's!! primarily the 66 on her pants but also all the pink on her instead of just red :) and obviously she has her dads number and while she DOES have a (white? bc like daddy shes a special little princess /aff) cape i didn't include it here bc it looked reallly bad lmao. but she does have one tucked into the bow probably!! there she is, Sparkling Red Neo!!! (get it.. sparkling instead of sparking... bc magical girl.... im funny i think.) onto Little Ocean Boy

OKAY LET ME TALK ABOUT THE MOST MINISCULE YET MOST IMPORTANT DETAIL TO ME AND ME ALONE FIRST. that being the symbol on the brats belt. it was actually inspired/based off of this post which really stuck with me with me after reading it which i later realized was bc the "that something has been completely reversed" REMINDED ME OF THIS POST OF YOURS. i don't think im especially good at theory crafting but. idk i think there could be Something about how after judge came and turned germa into mercenaries their symbol turned from what once symbolized 'purity' into the skull of war mongers and then BACK to purity after 0124 get germa on the right path... poetry or smthn. ANYWAYS yah shoe shiners got a pretty basic fit bc like i said in the og ask, hes a sora warrior of the sea fan, once he saw the raidsuits irl methinks he'd want to stay pretty close to the og design. HOWEVER he refuses to drop the hat (much to Niji's dismay) and i came up with a reason besides 'its one piece and therefore there's GOTTA be a kid with a weird hat that they're attached to': and that is the fact that it hides his eyebrows. Little Red has the curly brows, all of Yonji's cabbage patch does too, and the brats the only one without. even if literally no one else notices or cares, he wants to hide the fact that he doesn't have em because it Separates him. and he doesn't want that. at all. he really, Really wants to be a part of this family (oh no i made it. angsty). ANYWAYS UHH YAYYY HE HAS A TWO ON HIS HAT (that he sewed on himself which is why i made sure you can see the stitch-lines) BC NIJIS HIS DAD WAHOO YIPPEE :D:D:D Dengeki Blue Neo: little shoe shiner edition!!

UHH second image is just a refined piece of that first doodle i sent you. with lineart and a better color pallet and all. actually looking at it again now i realize i forgot little brats freckles and i am now punching the air bc its too late to fix. just act like they're there. please :,,,) edit: nvm its the next morning i fixed that kjahsdah

i don't even have much to say about the last two because i Think i am Rightgksfjgasjkfa but for the third i think the brats a bad influence on Little Red especially. ALSO FOR THE FOURTH NO I DIDNT FORGET ICHIJIS TATTOO. I AM JUST LAZY. (and I also forgot his tattoo :]) ANOTHER edit: i also. fixed this :]

CHRIST i am incapable of contacting you on Tumblr via any way that includes anything less than 250 words i am so sorry sangerie.. i hope you like these tho cause i really do tbh :3 (PS you have to take literally NONE of what I said here [mostly about shoe shiner] as like.. canon about them?? these are YOUR ocs obvi so please, change Little Red's raidsuit design if you find it unappealing!! make shoe shiner have a backstory of your own!!! i hope that isnt weird or rude to say, i just thought it was important too bc i threw sm at you so strongly ^^' okay thats all tysm for reading this it means to world to me byebye <3)

#one piece #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #one piece ichiji #one piece niji #others ocs tag #vinsmoke siblings #my art #im so happy with how the raid suits especially turned out like i can't get over it #i haven't been truly proud of an art piece for MONTHS this is so refreshing #like this aint perfect in a lotta other places but that alone is carrying this for me #also sangerie i am SO sorry if it looks like im virtually stalking you fjagskdakfsfa first the trans vs sisters and now this..#i promise im not there's just not a lot of ppl in the Vinsmokes tags and you and your stuff is really cool 😭 im normal i prommy /irony #okay ive literally said enough in the post im shutting up now gday or gnight take care #OH WAIT YEAH throwing in a #scopohobia tw #scopophobia cw #bc little brats eyes are borin into ya #OKAY now gday/night <3<3

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fareehaandspaniards · 5 months

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Laurence or some say Lavrushka (nobody calls him like that but I am here to fix it). Finally I am ready to share everything I have about him. A man caused my migraine when I first tried to dig into his lore. I never was his fan but I must admit he is the biggest problem in Yharnam after beasthood and eldritch horrors

Can imagine him in no other way. Absolutely. And his sideburnsssss!! (I hope I call them right? google translate confused me ._.) <3 (hi to Gilveciy, all for you, love, I know you don't like them xD)

I tried to create couple of outfits for him and was really excited before I started create them xD I am not the one who can make really detailed outfit. I like how he looks here but not really satisfied with them ;_; But when I try to add something my head is just pooof empty and I just sit with my phone for 20 minutes. So I left them as they are, maybe I will get enough inspiration to change them later, but for now let them be just concepts.

First robe is for service alongside Choir. On his head is wreath made of Blood Gems, on his chest is his medalion (wow Fareeha was it hard to create?), cool belt with jewels, and choir-like garb under dark cape. And blood-toned tunic under all of this. Cape is decorated with flowers from Isz Chalice because there Church found Ebrietas so...

Second one I think is more regular for him! All dark with red shoes - as a symbol of his holiness and power.

When I was watching "THe Young Pope" with Jude Law as main hero,,,,,, I thought about Laurence. I mean I watched it long ago but now I associated Laurence with Lenny Belardo and oh my god,,,, Red shoes,,,,.. That one episode.......

And the third one...

*"You can leave your hat on" plays on the background*

The last outfit is for church services in old Yharnam or just in poor parts of the city, because I don't think that the most poor yharnamites would be happy to see the vicar of new Church in a gorgeous garb while they are starving everyday.

Now, time for headcanons. I... I wrote a lot about him. I wrote so much that I got lost in my thoughts. So I decided to SHOW his relationships during time with others, because it's much easier than just tell ;_;

Firstly I wanted to depict ALL relationships between them but the scheme became so messy and unreadable that I made second variant which only for Laurence + some other characters love or hate or etc

My Laurence is a son of wealthy family from the foreign lands, maybe connected with Loran! I'm sure he would change that part of his biography to something more acceptable, since as an adult he would not want to be judged by yharnamites for his origins. His childhood consisted of solid learning, imitating his father and quietly copying the people around him. A child always needs an example, and they will look for it in those who are close to they heart, or at least give some emotions! So young Laurence took a lot from his despotic father, had almost no respect for his own mother, and was constantly listening to the squabbles and gossip of the servants of their estate, unconsciously beginning to analyze people and selecting their own approach to them. I think he would have been that cranky child, one of those who yell so resoundingly at their parents but are completely indifferent at heart - they just know WHAT will make the other person do what they want.

Little Laurence was also very drawn to creativity and dancing (something an aristocrat should be able to do), and was a very sweet child in person, but under the weight of responsibility and other people's expectations, he gradually grew obnoxious behavior, arrogance and the rest of the beauties of adverse adulthood!

I HORRIBLY headcanon Laurence as a kind of leader, "headman" among students, and also the last creep - he was bullying other students because of social class, contempt, forming a circle of "elite" around him, insults and humiliation! A handsome, talented, academically successful young man, but with a terrible character. I think he always had a combination of a "soft" gut, which strives for fun and comfort, and a strong inner core and also a cold, calculating mind, which he brought up in himself. At least, that's how I see it.

Laurence caused a lot of trouble for young Caryll, ridiculing his disability and poor health, as well as his family who sent their almost dying son to Byrgenwerth. He made fun of young Rom because of her appearance (which he actually quite liked), belittled Yurie by recognizing the vulnerable soul in her and gave her nickname "Ice Queen" which stayed with her for life. I think the only one he didn't succeed at bullying was Micolash - and that annoyed him as much as appealed. Micolash came from a poor, lower class of Yharnam, and he always looked unkempt, he stood out from the crowd of students. But all Laurence's taunts were like the squeak of a mosquito to him - Micolash was quite curious what he would think of to find his weak spot. Also, I think Micolash was very interested in Laurence's theory of the Blood. Micolash liked Laurence the way he was - edgy, egoistical, sharp and bitchy.

I headcanon that Laurence adopted this concept and the very idea of blood ministration from his father as the one thing he found useful in him, and his father adopted the theory from Cainhurst, which he sometimes visited by invitation as a scientist. So Laurence was a little ahead of his time when he shared with Willem his thoughts on the benefits of blood transfusions. It was something unusual and fresh among Yharnam's outdated scientific trends, and I think Willem marked Laurence for himself as an "unusual" student because of it.

Laurence had established himself at Byrgenwerth as a leader in the worst sense of the word, but later there was a sudden change with him. So much so that it seemed to everyone that he had been replaced. The bully and the last asshole suddenly turned into a pleasant person, and all attacks on other students stopped. All that remained was a thirst for studying chemistry, biology and scientific debates. There was a completely new Laurence - and it at first even a little scared everyone. Micolash felt betrayed (he liked his previous version :P). And the reason of his change remained unknown for many years, but everything was very simple. A very ardent and daring young man crossed paths with Master Willem's acquaintance, a wise man of years - the hunter Gehrman.

No one knows what happened between them, but I think there was a very serious conflict there - Laurence's insolence and Gehrman's integrity. I think Gehrman was able to put him in his place and break his dense layer of chitin on his soul. By talking he got to Laurence's heart and by saying many unpleasant but true things to him, he was able to make him realize that this way Laurence would only achieve a lonely old age. That's when their father-son relationship was born. In fact, Gehrman replaced for Laurence his both parents by helping him to deal with his inner problems, teaching him to communicate with people and accept them as they are. After meeting the old hunter, Laurence stopped communicating with his parents, and at the same time lost a huge weight that pressed on him and made him come from anxiety - the weight of other people's expectations.

So by the Fishing Hamlet incident, when most students were processing what had happened in their own way, Laurence was free of emotion and ready to develop his theory about the Blood. It was around that time that he met Gehrman's student, the knight Maria, who had left her home castle to learn the art of hunting (And she and Gehrman were also in love with each other). I once had a crazy headcanon with Maria's escape from Cainhurst xD It's calmer now - she was part of the help Cainhurst offered to Willem in exchange for opening the catacombs and his scientific researches.

Laurence's theory gave an unexpected breakthrough - the injection of Blood brought unprecedented results. With the blood of the Great One Willem saved Caryll from death and even let him stand once again on his legs (I can imagine the shock of others, when Caryll walked using only the cane, because standing still was hard for him. I should add that later Caryll will use his wheelchair again because effects of blood are not everlasting and he wouldn't want do more injections of such rare blood when others need help and blood too) , and also gave him his first visions of the Runes and a connection with the Great Ones.

After the discovery of Kos (and murdering her?), after a small shift in Micolash's mind, after Rom began to study the parasites of Kos and their effects on herself, Research Hall was established. The Byrgenwerth for students was over, and Willem, taking his best student with him, began to develop the idea of replacing the old Church of Yharnam with a new one - a church on Blood, Blood that cures all ills and diseases. This is how we come to the Research Hall.

Having made an impression on the higher academic circles and having secured the support of several noble houses of Yharnam and partly Cainhurst - the Church was founded, and Willem took the role of bishop (The bishop thing is actually not my headcanon, the idea belongs to Katy. I adopted it and put it in my lore. It's too logical) and Laurence took the role of vicar. The medical Research Hall was opened. Micolash took on the role of one of the doctors, and Rom (Again, the basis was taken from Katy, that Micolash was the doctor and Rom was the patient!) volunteered herself for research, as her body didn't just take seawater and blood - every day she was diagnosed with a new disease, and the next day it disappeared, and almost no one could understand what was happening to her. However, after studying the parasites for a long time, Rom discovered something that she didn't share with anyone. She only bandaged her eyes and secluded herself on the upper floors, allowing herself to be explored.

The oath of loyalty to the Church was taken by one of Yharnam's best warriors, Ludwig, who became the first Hunter of the Church. True, he swore the oath to Willem, and the latter soon began to gradually lose his mind and appear less and less in public, examining his eyes. And Ludwig found himself knighted by Laurence. I can't say that Ludwig liked it xD He saw Laurence as a young upstart (Ludwig himself is very conservative) and kept forgetting that he was a vicar, though young, and it was his duty to serve him. Their relationship was strained for a long time. But they became friends with Gehrman's aid, who became a common friend to both of them. So they were able to get to know each other better. And Ludwig never learned that the exploratory nature of Laurence was very interested in his visions and foreign blood flowing in the veins of the knight. Ludwig was appointed captain of the Tomb Prospectors, which inevitably drove him mad and led to the discovery of the Sword of Moonlight.

Laurence gave all his time to his work, but his heart was devoted to something else... The vicar suddenly found himself attracted to Rom, Micolash's half-sister. He did not even know whether fate had punished him in this way for his cruelty to the girl in the past, or whether he had always loved her? But he could think of no one else -he needed Rom. And Laurence, between services, visited her humble room to try to talk and bring her something she would like, whether it was a treat or clean clothes. Love struck him so suddenly that while he was doing it - he didn't notice that under his nose Micolash was conducting inhuman experiments on a girl named Adelina (even though she supported them), and Damian was sneaking for him artifacts from the catacombs to study (because Micolash asked him to, and Damian could never refuse him. Even if it's about stealing. Damian has endured and suffered a lot just to be useful to the one he loved)

And beautiful Rom reciprocated, though she laughed at him, remembering the past. But the unexpectedly warm and gentle character of the new Laurence, his pleasant look and tender kisses warmed her heart. Laurence felt happy for the first time since finding a father figure in Gehrman. As their relationship began to slowly mend, despite Caryll's displeasure about it, Rom felt the Great One. Ebrietas called to her from the lowest of the low. All the parasites she had implanted in her body were synchronizing with that call.

The Choir was founded, and a little later, the School of Mensis.

I think I have such a hard time with Laurence because his life is intertwined with ALL the characters in one way or another. So I'm going to go straight through his relationships during the sunset era of the Healing Church. Laurence himself began to slowly lose his own ideals - blood cured but people were slowly turning into beasts. The massacre of Old Yharnam had left a deep wound in the heart of the city. The Great Ones no longer seemed to be the force that led to a greater good, not at all - the humans were too weak to reach their level.

Rom secluded herself to Ebrietas and did not leave her side. When she began to change and gradually became part of the Kin, Laurence did not stop loving her. He cared for her as best he could, but here was the trouble - she didn't need any help. The process was irreversible. Laurence's little dream of a real family where everyone would love each other was shattered when Rom disappeared into her cocoon, undergoing her final transformation. He managed to visit her twice before he died himself. Both times he talked to her - had a monologue, recounting his hardships and troubles. It seemed to him that she did not notice him at all, and that the old Rom was gone. But she was glad to know that his love had not faded. Neither had hers.

Micolash took all the knowledge he needed from the Choir and left, taking many people with him to found the School of Mensis. Laurence thought his manipulative friend would have no more contact with him after that, but the School of Mensis needed the shelter of the Church. And for the sake of possible progress, Laurence let him do what he wanted. Only rare attention of Church doctors who were trying to find out what was going on in Yahar'Gul bothered Micolash. Laurence made another mistake, but he could no longer figure out what was going on at all, so he let it go. Laurence didn't live to see the Ritual of Mensis.

Ludwig had lost the last remnants of his mind. He didn't care about anything, and he seemed to have forgotten that he had a family - a wife and daughter, Ludwig spoke only to his sword. Tomb Prospectors was left without a captain, and Laurence appointed Gremia to be their captain, giving him the title "Sir" at Ludwig's (Gremia's ) old request. Laurence did not see how Ludwig later turned into a monster. He felt really guilty but his curiousity was still stronger then anything.

During his time in the Church, he had a loyal bodyguard and protector, Brador, an assassin who had sworn an oath of loyalty to him. They formed a close bond, but Laurence never knew what it really was. Only Brador, who later put his scalp on himself, knew.

Caryll, who had rejected Laurence all his life, disappeared without a trace one evening at the School of Mensis. Laurence had an unfinished conversation with him. Laurence wished that he would finally forgive him for his student years, but Caryll no longer cared for the this world. He disappeared, following the ringing bell into the darkness. His wheelchair was discovered empty, and his body was never found. No one had come out of the room where he had last been.

The Cainhurst Massacre had been recorded by the Church as an execution of the vicious Vilebloods, and Laurence preferred not to think about what the descendants of the Pthumerians had been killed for.

Laurence's almost father and mentor had found eternal life, given over to the Moon Presence. Laurence had promised him that he would come for him, for the poor old man who deserved only peace and an easy death, for he had lost the woman he loved years before, and his madness had produced a copy of her, the Doll. Laurence could not fulfill his promise, though he wanted to. I still actually don't understand why Gehrman and exactly Gehrman was given? But I think it's like a deal with the devil - to receive something you should give something that is dear for you.

Little Amelia, whom Laurence often visited in the orphanage, seemed to love him very much. She received his pendant, the symbol of the Healing Church years later, when she was grown up and able to receive the title of Vicar. They had met when she was a little girl, and Laurence secretly dreamed that someday, maybe, she would be a member of his family.

He died when everything he had done all his life had died down, when the screams of torn Yharnamites in the streets of the city became commonplace. The vicar could not bear all the consequences of his actions and endeavors. He wished only good things, and good intentions pave the road to hell.

And on this pathos words I should finish, I will add only small-small headcanons that did not fit into the text, as well as many other details of my vision of lore (+I forgor many things that I came up with...........)

While my husband and I were discussing him, we came to the conclusion that he simply could not be someone who unselfishly wished happiness for everyone and everything, wished to heal people and save them with Blood. He wished for good, but wished that HE was the cause of it, wished to be the hero and the best.

But there are also two sides to my Laurence, so I headcanon that his zodiac sign is Gemini (like mine, I know exactly what it's like to have two people in your head). He can be fun and naive - afraid for his appearance, running around Gehrman's workshop as a grown man, picking flowers for Rom and laughing at the top of his voice, or he can be a manipulative little asshole who is curious to see what happens to another person if you put him in a certain situation. And I like him like that a lot :^)

And now me and husband have a local joke - Laurence's sideburns LMAO They are so soft mmmhmmm..........

Headcanons:

- Laurence is an excellent dancer. He was trained to dance as a child and knows how to twirl in a minuet, what a polonaise is, and can easily take a lady to twirl in a waltz (in my case, that lady is Rom)

- Laurence has an intolerance to alcohol. So he drinks mostly water, juice or something like that!

- Laurence had always loved the taste of blood. When his finger was cut, he put his lips to the wound, not so much from pain as from a desire to taste it again. He'd never taken such liberties with other people's blood. But he loved his own.

- Laurence grew sideburns because he stopped liking himself and feeling confident after some of Micolash's caustic comments about his appearance xd With sideburns he felt good and his anxiety went away, and Micolash's attacks didn't hurt so much. He was VERY proud of his sideburns, because they finally lifted him up in his own eyes and made him masculine

- He has looots of bodyhair. He is even fluffy. (It confused Brador)

-Laurence's parents wrote him letters, tried to contact him. But thanks to his connection with Gehrman, he didn't need them.

-He and Micolash were never really friends, but they always talked - they were interested in each other. Micolash mostly used the vicar as a toy, blackmailed him sometimes, but he still loved his company. When Laurence began to feel guilty about all the events in Yharnam, Micolash became completely disappointed with him.

-In Byrgenwerth he had a nickname "Laura" because of his pretty face. The nickname was created by Micolash, used only by Micolash too, but the mere fact of its existence made Laurence very uncomfortable

I am sure I missed something that I wanted to tell. But anyway. Laurence's mood:

#my art #laurence the first vicar #bloodborne #bloodborne headcanon #longpost #I hope I didn't fuck up with actually lore details

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kelexr · 1 year

Text

Snippet of a fic I’m writing (title impending)

Damijon/JonDami

Slow burn, enemies to lovers AU

Word Count: 2,864

Status: Unfinished

Any and all critiques are welcome as this is my first fic! I’m especially worried about this fic flowing too fast or being hard to understand, please help 😭

Any tips on how to make this fic longer would be very very appreciated

🩵

This was utterly idiotic, perhaps it was the biggest gap in reasoning his father has demonstrated to date. Damian could not even fathom how his father had come to the conclusion that this was the best way he could spend his summer vacation. Most would call it unfair, rightfully so; none of his brothers were asked to hang up their capes for ‘social enrichment.’ Yet, there he was, glaring at the gloved hand holding out his suitcase.

“It seems you have forgotten what I told Father; I’m not going,” Damian barked out, attempting to close the door on the man’s face. However, a sleek, black shoe prevented him from doing so. He scoffed and crossed his arms over his body, but did not make any moves to force the door shut.

Alfred removed his foot from the doorframe, and once again motioned the suitcase towards the younger boy, “Master Damian, it has been made abundantly clear that Master Wayne does not intend to let you miss this outing.” The butler paused for a second before adding on, “Who knows, it may even help you.”

Damian responded with an exaggerated eye-roll before continuing his yapping, “Oh please, as if I have ever needed assistance. Especially from that alien’s halfling son! The last time I had the displeasure of speaking with it, I swear I almost utilized my kryptonite.”

The man in front of him raised an unimpressed eyebrow, before a gruff voice rang out behind him, “That is exactly why you are going.” His father, seemingly coming out of nowhere, walked up to Alfred before taking the suitcase from his hands. The butler nodded in understanding before walking off to attend to the rest of the manor.

His father held out his free hand, and Damian mumbled a few curses before handing his father a lead-lined box containing a certain green rock. The older man stared down expectantly before his son let out a drawn out sigh and pulled another box out of his back pocket.

Bruce gave his youngest son a warning look, one that would strike pure terror into most non-bats, before speaking, “Jon is a… sweet boy,” Damian scoffed, knowing of his father’s ‘subconscious’ distrust of Kryptonians, “and he would be a good friend for you to have. His family was kind enough to offer you a place in their home over the summer. You are going, understand?” He tried to end his clumsy attempt at a ‘father-son talk’ in a way that snuffed out any argument.

It may have actually worked if it weren’t for the fact he was talking to Damian Wayne.

“Father, I'm 15! I do not need to be sent to some farm so I can mingle with its homely residents,” the older Wayne opened his mouth to scold the boy, but was not given the chance, “I made one— and the incident with the paparazzi does not count—mistake and suddenly you can’t trust me to perform the thing I was raised to do?”

“Damian,” Bruce let out a frustrated breath, “Do I need to remind you, again, why I have to do this?” He waited for an answer, but was given none, “Verbally attacking every journalist that came up to you was nothing short of immature and reckless. As Robin you are able to utilize your rage to do great things, but as a Wayne— as my son—you are expected to behave to a certain standard.” He shook his head, “If you want to be treated like you’re an ‘adult,’ start acting like one. The way you are speaking about the Kents is proof enough that you have learned nothing from our previous talks.

This is not meant to be a punishment, it’s the last option you have given me. Jonathan will be an easy friend to make and sets a great example for how you should act. I am aware of how your previous meetings with him have gone, but this time will be different.” He sets a hand on his son’s shoulder, “This time there will be no capes and absolutely no reason to fight,” he leans in closer, “if I find out you tried to run away, snuck any kryptonite in, or refused to help with chores, no Robin until you graduate.”

“But Father-”

“No,” He tightens his grip on the boy’s shoulder, “no more arguing. Dick has offered to take you. Do I have to escort you to his car, or can you manage to do that yourself?”

Just like that, Damian knew he had been backed into a corner, “No thank you.” He snatched the suitcase out of the other man’s hands before backing into his room to pull out another suitcase, one he packed for himself. Bruce eyed the pre-packed suitcase, feeling an odd sense of pride. It was short-lived, “I didn’t pack this because I wanted to go. I always have a suitcase ready.”

Damian stomped past the so-called world’s greatest detective before remembering he was supposed to be mature. He regulated his steps and before reaching the end of the hallway called out, “Do not forget to feed my animals.” He quickly turned the corner and made his way to the stairs.

They were sickeningly extravagant with golden railings that held flowery engravings and polished, spiraling steps. Due to it being the first thing seen when entering the manor through its front doors, it is usually the only thing first-time guests want to gush about. While Damian tries to completely write off the ogling over the lavish flight of steps, he does appreciate the amount of work Pennyworth invests in keeping them clean. Really, he appreciates all the work his pseudo grandfather does to keep the house from being in complete ruins, not like he’d ever say that to his face.

Once he reaches the final steps, he allows his suitcases to roll on the ground behind him. He is vaguely aware of the fact he did not bid farewell to, well, anyone, but the idea sounds far too bothersome for him to care; he pushes open the front door, cementing his decision to ignore as many people as he possibly could.

Perhaps his silence would be their punishment, but he highly doubted they’d see it that way. If anything, they were counting down the days he’d be leaving— especially Drake. Sure, he has formed effective partnerships with the bunch of bat-themed heroes, but that much is to be expected of a Robin. In the end, his relationship with his ‘family’ has always been one built upon tolerance; his silence was nothing more than a sign he would not tolerate their presence at the moment. There was no use dwelling on these circumstances, ones he forced upon himself. The simple truth was that he would not miss them and they would not miss him. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Beep beep!” The man’s voice forced Damian out of his thoughts, “You need help with your stuff?” Dick Grayson asked, leaning over his steering wheel to look at the boy. He didn’t pity his older brother with a response, opting to do the task himself. He stomped down the manor’s steps, his suitcases banging following him as he went. The boy refused to spare a look at the home he was now being forced out of. He yanked open the door to the backseat of the sleek, blue Mercedes-Benz, unceremoniously shoving the suitcases into the luxury car.

Dick watched the boy’s movements through his peripheral, “Upset?” Damian grumbled in response, pulling out to slam the door, before promptly getting in the vehicle through the passenger-side door. “C’mon, lighten up! Isn’t Clark’s son, like, your best friend? Other than me of course.” He chuckled at his own comment while beginning their journey away from Wayne Manor.

“He is not my friend! We are far from cordial at all,” The Arab boy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked out the window, safe from having to see the home of his betrayers.

“Sure thing, D,” he motioned towards the boy, “also, seatbelt.” Damian sighed, but clicked the safety harness into place. He may be reckless, but road safety matters!

They drove for a few minutes, but, in true Gotham fashion, were quickly swept into the afternoon’s traffic. There were a few honks and screams echoing out of the vehicles around the boys, a common symptom of road rage. The boy’s green eyes lazily traced over the slow-moving cars stationed beside him, and he was left wondering why he couldn’t just get flown there.

Dick, of course, took this chance to pester his little brother.

“I mean, you have to give the boy a chance. Remember a few years ago? He was so excited when you came to his birthday, and— oh yeah…” Dick rubbed his neck nervously, seemingly remembering why Damian wasn’t invited to any subsequent birthdays of any Kent.

Damian smirked at the memory, still taking pride in the fact he was able to pull such a stunt off all these years later. It wasn’t his fault a superhuman was deathly afraid of spiders, but some could argue that manufacturing hundreds of nano-spiders was. Also infusing said nano-spiders with kryptonite could’ve been a bit too far, and wrapping them up as if they were a gift was— Hmm, okay, maybe he’s a jerk. However, no one could say he wasn’t a jerk with a plan.

His older brother sighed, pulling him out of his reminiscing, “That was probably a bad example, huh? I don’t think he was too upset about it, he was back to begging his dad to hang out with you within the month.”

Damian looked away from his window, and directed a confused look at the blue-eyed man driving. He knew Jonathan had been friendly with him, but he begged to see him? That’s absurd! “What are you talking about?”

“Oh you don’t know? When you two were younger, all he wanted to do was talk to or about you,” Dick laughed, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was crushing on you, D. Bruce saved your ass back then, always making excuses for you.” The man paused to think for a few moments, “I don’t think he’s done that for a while. When was the last time you guys saw each other?”

Oh boy, another memory? I guess you can get an actual flashback, you’ve earned it!

“Lois and I will be having tea and I’ve also agreed to an interview, afterwards I can drop you off at the animal shelter— how long will you be volunteering?” His father questioned as they walked up the steps of the Daily Planet. Bruce had made a habit of meeting with his best friend’s wife (it would be suspicious if they weren’t head over heels in love with their spouses) to talk over tea, coffee, and wine on special occasions.

Damian thought for a few moments, “I suppose a few hours would be fine; however, I would like to come back at a time in which my schedule is not completely booked. Could that be arranged, Father?” He kept his green eyes trained ahead of him, his hands clasped together behind his back. He could be professional and level-headed in public, ha!

His father nodded, opening the building’s front doors. He motioned for his son to enter, “I forgot to mention, Jo-”

“You.” Damian cut off his father’s words, spotting what slipped the man’s mind before he could even finish his sentence. The boy in front of them glanced around nervously, his eye’s movements barely visible behind his wide-framed glasses.

“Uh- M-Mr. Wayne,” he nodded his head at the man, “and Damian, uhm, hi.” The boy shifted his weight between his feet before speaking up once more, “Uhm, Mom asked me to,” he motioned to the elevators behind him, “escort you guys to her office.”

Bruce smiled and nodded, allowing the boy to lead him, but Damian scoffed, turning his head in disgust and moving his hands to his hips, “I wasn’t aware it was bring-your-child to work day.”

Jon looks away bashfully, “It’s not! I’m only here because-”

The— slightly— older boy cuts him off with an obnoxiously fake yawn, “Don’t care.” He suddenly feels a hand fall upon his shoulder. He looks up to see a horrifying sight, even for him; his father is glaring down at him intently, baring into his soul with a fire that could kill the toughest of fighters. So much more being professional and level-headed.

“What my son means to say is, it’s a pleasant surprise, and,” he pushed the boy closer to Jon, “he’s sorry.”

“I mean to say no such thing-” Bruce gives him a single look. “I feel a slight guilt at my words,” Damian clears his throat, “lead the way, Farmbo- Kent.”

Jon smiles— he really does smile too much— turning on his heel. The boy doesn’t present himself as anything, but what can be seen on the surface; a humble farm boy who has learned to see the best in people. And in a way, that’s all he is. He stands in the shadow of his father’s billowing, red cape and doesn't complain, doesn’t resent it. Perhaps he knows that the sunshine he emits when grinning ear-to-ear is enough to drown out the shadows. He himself is a symbol of hope, and he does it all without the oh-so recognizable crest. It makes Damian feel nauseous.

He leads the pair to a row of elevators and clicks a button, causing a downwards arrow to light up. The screens above the elevators indicate its descent down to them. 10…9…8…The half-Kryptonian bounces in place, having seemingly forgotten his nervousness, now filled with restlessness as he waits, “Mom has been really excited to show you her new office! She bought a new, fancy tea, but don’t tell her I told you because I told her I wouldn’t. Anyways, her office! It’s bigger, has a better view, and it has its own mini fridge— a mini fridge! Can you believe that? She could keep so many snacks in there, and no one can-”

Much to Damian’s relief, the elevator’s chime cut the boy’s words short. Despite being a teenager, 14, he sure did ramble like a child. A few businesswomen walked out as the doors opened, deep into a conversation about recent pictures captured of The Flash; to the human eye he looked to be nothing but a red streak when he dashed by, so action shots of the man were a rarity and something deserving to be gawked at. The emerald-eyed boy refused to give them even a passing glance, reporters were vultures and he could already see the headlines:

Heir to Bruce Wayne intimidates Daily Planet Employees!

Damian Wayne; back to harassing the press?

Nature Vs. Nurture, a deep dive into a billionaire’s son.

Maybe he was being dramatic, the Daily Planet is known for its honesty and doesn’t usually stoop down to tabloids or exploiting mundane occurrences. Damian, though, knew better than to let reporters or their annoyingly persistent sons get close. Let others’ secrets spill out like an overflowing sink, but keep yours held tightly against your chest; that’s what his mom would spend countless nights instilling into him. Her methods in teaching this lesson, while cruel in most cases, worked well and allowed Damian to have an impenetrable wall encasing his heart.

He stepped into the elevator, head held high. His father gave the boy a polite response to his previous word-dump, but it didn’t take a detective to know he was ready to relax and enjoy some tea. Jon clicked a button to select a floor, and the Arab boy made a point to ignore his quick glances when he settled into place next to him. It had been almost a year since he’d last seen him, and, despite his own growth spurt, the alien was still much taller than himself.

The ride consisted of a silence that was, at some points, interrupted by Jon’s humming. They were carried up, luckily without having to stop for any extra passengers, and the door opened to a bustling office. A stench of coffee wafted through the air as Jon led them through the maze of cubicles. Conversations overlapped, and the clacking of keyboards was a constant annoyance. Jon, being the embodiment of sunshine he was, had to stop and greet every other worker.

It was very… stimulating.

Finally, they reached a room with glass walls, the contents hidden by thick, black curtains. “Tah-dah! Here it is!” The boy motioned towards the room with his arms dramatically, “Have fun Mr. Wayne!”

“You won’t be joining us today?” The billionaire asked, less out of genuine want and more out of politeness.

Jon shook his head, “Mom asked me to wait in the breakroom while y’all talk.”

“Oh, alright,” Bruce thought for a few moments, “Damian you can join him.” His father gave him a push, and began opening the door of the office, “Have fun, boys.”

“Father-” The door was slammed on his face, hmm, usually he’s the one who does that to his father.

#ao3 #fanfic #dc #damijon #jondami #damian wayne #jon kent #damian x jon #jon x damian #beta reader #writer #send help

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nondienary · 6 months

Text

i saw this post sharing designs of the infinights in GL2 and it inspired me to share my own! enjoy (i guess)

and obligatory spoilery rambling warning because character design makes me so happy

starting off strong with kyborg!

details i enjoy- his blue hairties and gold ear cuff are inspired by the ones he has in the picture on the home page of the stinky dragon wiki. im especially happy with the ear cuff because it turned out way better than i expected.

i also really like the arm (and yes i know he doesnt have the diagem in it anymore but it needed some pizazz! said pizazz made me temporarily hate myself because it used up his 4th face accessory slot but i don't even remember what other face accessory i wanted for him anymore :P)

also his boots. idk why but i like them

his hair!! i went through a bunch of styles and chose this one and i'm glad i did because this is a pretty accurate representation of how i imagine his hair, including the color! his mom was a redhead so ya boi is a strawberry blond (ish)

details i do NOT enjoy- the fact that gl2 doesnt have a hip quiver :( because i had to add the quiver to his back but that took up his second cape slot so he couldnt have his cloak of many fashions. and also even if i could give it to him w the back quiver i would still want a hip quiver because i imagine him with a hip quiver! because you can't do somersaults barrel rolls with a quiver on your back!

anyway

i probably should have made these separate posts but oh well you signed up for rambling and rambling is what you get!

next up: mudd!

loml

details i enjoy: his cloak, i spent ages on it because i was overthinking what to do with his cloak of billowing vs his cloak of the secret garden (?) but i'm very happy with what i settled on

the detail in the undercut drove me crazy because again, characters are limited to 4 cace accessory and i was using one for the runes in the undercut. which i obviously changed but that brought me so much pain and misery /lh

im so happy with how his face, especially his eyes turned out because again, i struggled with them for some time. but now his face is SO perfect. except the lack of sideburns.. maybe something with the side hairs? i keep forgetting that's an option in this game

the little daisy earring. spur of the moment addition, so glad i did it.

details i do NOT enjoy: his outfit :( for all the others i knew what i was going for but with mudd i had no clue other than the cloak. it's based off his puppet outfit because i legitimately couldn't think of what he'd wear. i like the shoes and choice of belt but between this and the sideburns mudd is definitely next in line for a redesign

ok someone who was just redesigned is gum gum!

details i enjoy: his face. that is such a gum gum face. wish i couldve added bigger tusks though. and the lil smudge of dirt on his cheek!!!

silly almost easter egg i added is that each of the colors of the rainbow is in his design at least once because dia's whole thing is rainbows and light and stuff. at first i just had it in the accessories and his whole outfit was blue pretty much but i looked at bart after completing all the accessories and i was like GODDAMMIT he has all the colors. and it's actually incorporated into the outfit AND it looks really good.

the fact that vee and i both designed his hat nearly exactly the same completely independently of each other is so epic.

i originally came up with the shoulder flower while working on mudd but i was like "oh wait gum gum's the flowers guy mudd's the animals guy." and gave it to him instead. and i'm very glad i did it fills in that space in the cloak very well.

speaking of the cloak, i very much enjoy it

things i do NOT enjoy:

honest, nothing comes to mind! maybe it's because he was the most recent to get revamped but its so wonderfully gum gum.

and last, and maybe least in stature but not in much else, bart!

things i enjoy about this design: the little thigh dagger. bart is totally the kind of man to strap a dagger to his thigh instead of just attaching the sheath to the belt like a normal person

i made him VERY visibly part dragonborn because it's honestly hilarious. because gum gum has known bart since he was a baby, he knows bart's just Like that. kyborg hadn't interacted with another person in like 30 years before he met them and mudd had probably never seen a halfling in his life, and even if he had, he wasn't just gonna have his first conversation with the guy be "i don't believe you when you say what race you are." tbh mudd's probably applies to kyborg as well. and bart assumed its just because of the different subraces of halfling. he's a stout halfling, alleve is a lightfoot halfling, no wonder she doesn't look like him!

also the hem of the pants is so fun and piratey and i love it and it's perfect.

i also gave him a crystal resembling his diagem, i haven't decided what's going on with that yet. i didn't give mudd one because no way in hell am i trying to make a ring WITH a diagem in it. how about no :3

things i do NOT enjoy: gl2 doesn't have enough curly hair options, specifically for rear hair. so bart's hair in this is not as accurate in this to my mind's eye as the others. its alright it does look good regardless

and that's all ive got in terms of commentary, please enjoy me talking about my silly little hyperfixation guys. byebye!

#tftsd #stinky dragon pod #kyborg the mighty #mudd bramblecrack #bartholomew finn #gum gum tftsd #infinight interns

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silky-slinky · 2 years

Text

REMEMBERING ME !

FIVE HARGREEVES X GN!READER PAIRING !

READ PART ONE HERE !

FIVE HARGREEVES MASTERLIST !

WC: 5k

A/N: VIKTOR HASN'T TRANSITIONED AT THE FIRST POINT SO HE WILL BE VANYA. I AM NOT DEAD NAMING HIM IN ANY WAY !

Comfortable silence lay steadily inside your room, the sound of the paintbrush gliding across the easel was slightly heard, along with your steady breathing. Rich colors decorated the canvas, ranging from bright yellows to dark blues, covering the white part of the material. The calm atmosphere makes you sigh in contentment.

Painting made you feel at ease, your coping mechanism if you will. A calm mind is what you adored, your powers could be overwhelming if it wanted to. It made you uncomfortable at some times, giving you a glimpse of what you didn't want to see from a person's mind. Yet it was also incredibly useful for villains, barging into their minds to see what their weaknesses are. It was horrible to come in uninvited in a person's mind, but it did the job.

Marcus was extremely fond of your powers, while Ben used you for his much dirtier deeds, forcing you to walk in a person's mind to cheat his way through. Much like when he was arguing with Marcus, he wanted to know what his weaknesses are, so, he forced you to do it for him. It made you uncomfortable after using your powers, knowing as you're prying into their privacy. It's a curse and a blessing all in one.

A loud sound slightly startled you, causing your brush to glide in a way it wasn't supposed to, the red light outside your door catching your attention. “Fuck.” Muttering softly, being frustrated before fixing everything up and seeing what's a big enough problem for Marcus to push the emergency button. It was only pushed whenever it was urgent, much like the time when Marcus frantically pushed it after coming home with Ben in his arms after the Jennifer incident.

The soles of your dirty shoes brushed against the floor as you made your way to the balcony, hearing loud voices from below. Your eyes caught Jayme's, and you rushed over to her side, causing you to be in the middle of the balcony. “Huh, weird. Didn't expect guests today.” You commented, which earned only a soft chuckle from her. Your eyes scanned everyone, taking your time to observe everyone.

They were all dressed in black, except for the boy who had school shorts on that displayed his pasty knees. One had a cape on, a dramatic hero outfit. One had a cowboy hat, a stylish man. One had knives all over him, guessing that it had something to do with his powers. One had a black coat on, she was shorter than most of them. One had regular clothing on, a bulky person. While lastly, a boy who had school shorts on.

Five's lungs stopped working completely when he caught a glimpse of you. The sight of your body swimming in your blood flooded his thoughts immediately, making it hard for him to breathe. It messed Five up, mentally and physically after your death. His body gave up on making precise sniper shots, and his mental health deteriorated day by day. Everyone at Commission noticed, he was almost fired for it, but ultimately pushed away the idea as he was the best assassin they had and will ever have.

His heart clenched painfully, he looked down at his right hand, the very hand he used to shoot you with. He was incredibly hurt, too hurt to notice that you were staring right at him. It pained him to see you, knowing the last time he saw you traumatized him. His breathing was erratic, and beads of sweat formed on his face.

Your brows knit together in confusion at the boy who looked uneasy and uncomfortable as if he wanted to leave right at that moment. An idea popped into your mind, waving a hand his way, the boy with school shorts. Trying to get in his head as much as you hated to. Before you could continue, Reginald's voice interrupted you.

“They are the sparrows. My children.” Five's whole body tensed at Reginald's loud voice. Clearly proud of his adopted children, knowing their capabilities.

The Sparrows were strong, but they didn't have what The Umbrellas had. The Sparrows sure outplaced them in terms of how convenient their powers were, but The Umbrella had a bond that only they could form. A chaotic mess but they loved each other in a way that they'd put their lives at stake to save another one's life. It's what made them siblings, hell, Five tried everything just to go back to his family.

Five's stare was fixated on you, his eyes never leaving yours. To be quite honest, it made you uncomfortable, seeing a stranger stare right into your soul. He couldn't believe his eyes, he didn't even acknowledge the fact that his dead brother was there in front of him. All he could think of was you.

The feelings Five felt were surreal, it felt as if you had punched him so hard, that he couldn't compose himself. He wanted you, needed you to remember him, no matter what it takes.

“I'm sorry. What do you mean, your children?” The man with knives says, inching toward Reginald in a taunting matter.

While Five was stuck in time, staring at you. He stared at you while you made your way down the stairs, whispering something to the girl beside you that made the girl laugh while looking at him. All of these things happening all at once but all he could do was stare.

“That isn't possible, old man.” The man with knives taunts even further, taking one of his knives, and playing with it, attempting to intimidate Reginald.

“Of course it is! I'd think I'd know, would I?” Your feet are planted right beside Ben, and your posture is straight, trying to show who's in control. Ben simply shoved you aside softly, careful not to push too hard that you'd fall over. Once you've composed yourself next to Ben, your eyes panned back to the boy.

“Everybody else can see Ben, right?” The one with the cowboy hat asks his siblings, who looked as confused as the one who asked.

“Y/n.” Five's whole mouth was dry, your name was merely a whisper, barely audible for others to hear. His face was defeated at the sight of you, who was closer than earlier when you were on the balcony. He was extremely, overwhelmed. All five stages of grief came at him all at once.

“Wait, you know them?” The bulky man points over to you while glancing at Five. It was a surprise for them for someone in their team knew someone from the enemy team. Considering everything, they didn't know Five up to an extent. Their lives were restless, from one apocalypse to another, from one problem to another. They never had time to sit down for a moment and get to know each other on a deeper level.

Your face scrunched up at the boy who knew your name. “Who even are you?” You asked no one in particular, generalizing all of them. By now, your other siblings were behind you and Ben. Marcus standing on the other side of Ben, taking up the responsibility of being Number One.

“They call themselves the Umbrella Academy, a group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of 1963 when I was away on business in Dallas. Be warned, they claimed to be my spawn.” Reginald's loud voice echoed around the living room. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jayme subtly snickering at the last part of what Reginald had said.

The girl with a cape stepped one step closer to Reginald, in disbelief at what he said. “Claim? Look, Five, what the hell is going on?” She gestured over to the boy in short shorts who used his time to watch you. What a peculiar name, given, that they are a peculiar family. It made you feel slightly uncomfortable with his intense stare.

“I don't know yet, but it's concerning.” Five's eyes panned over to you and Ben, his expression both mixed with confusion and surprise.

“Is he telling the truth?” Marcus spoke out from beside Ben.

“Not the part about us being perfidious.” The short girl replied, clearly bothered by Reginald's words and how he spoke it.

“No, we're amateur-fidious, at best.” The boy with the cowboy hat on says, showing his hand that had the words ‘Goodbye’ written on it. If he was on your team, you would've laughed.

His siblings paid no mind to the silly boy, the short girl continuing. “But we are his children. This is our house.” Ben nudged you slightly, telling you that you should use your powers.

You obliged, moving behind Ben to hide, subtly bringing up a hand and pointing it at the girl's head to barge into her memories. Five watched you do your work, much like what he watched a million times by now. Memories flooded your brain the moment your powers worked on the short girl. Memories of some with the boy with schoolboy shorts. Memories of some with the bulky man. Memories of all of them. You used her memories to know all of them even further.

Klaus was the one with the ‘Goodbye’ tattoo, Allison was the one with the cape, Luther was the bulky man, Diego was the one with knives, and Vanya was the one you barged into. You stumbled back from using your powers, it was something that overwhelmed you at times. Jayme caught you before you could fall, the Umbrellas watching you but didn't say anything.

“You okay?” Jayme whispers, helping you compose yourself.

“I'm okay, thanks.” You made your way back beside Ben, being faced to face with Klaus.

“Okay. None of you belong here." Allison says from her side of the room. Her eyes panning over to every single one of you and your siblings.

“Let's move out everyone, ordered by Ms. Allison.” A few scattered laughs from your siblings as Christopher spoke out his opinion. The Umbrella's expression was clearly confused, not knowing how you knew their sibling's name.

“How-” Allison started. Presumably was about to ask how you knew her name. Before being interrupted by Grace who had a tray of cookies in hand. They had several questions for Five.

“I wasn't expecting company.” Diego started to walk toward the robot, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the robot's slight malfunction. “This is the best I could do on short notice.” You pitied Grace, you really did. Your siblings treated her like what she was, a robot. She often got mistreated by everyone in your family.

“Mom,” Diego whispered. It was true, Grace being their mom in their memories. What scared you the most was the fact that they did live here, Vanya's memories were full of it. Some being with a blonde woman who if you could recall was named Sissy. Some being in this house, with Grace and Reginald. Pogo was even there.

“Mom? She's a robot, you perv.” Jayme comments, causing your siblings to snicker.

“It's not a robot.” Diego was quick to reply.

“Hey, don't you call him that.” Luther defends Diego from where he stood. Guessing from Vanya's memories, Luther had a character development.

“Or what?” Ben taunts. He could get annoying at times. Voices were overlapping, filled with both The Umbrellas and The Sparrows, teasing each other, provoking one another. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jayme getting ready to use her powers, before launching at it on Diego. His siblings paid no mind to him, too engrossed with threatening one another.

Your eyes watched the man be confused before smiling to himself at what he saw. “Can I see?” You asked Jayme, replying with a soft ‘sure.’ Using your powers, you delve into his mind, watching his hallucinations. Revealing both The Umbrellas and The Sparrows dancing with each other, what a weird desire.

It was another thing that bonded you and Jayme. It was part of your power to see Jayme's hallucinations, causing her to be one of your closest siblings. Along with Ben, who at times, could be an asshole. You snapped back into reality once the hallucination ended, seeing a smirk on Jayme's face as she watched Diego's reaction after.

“You got 30 seconds to get out the house.” Marcus' deep voice resonated around the living room. You sympathized with The Umbrellas. Although you did know the full truth, you couldn't say anything since you still sided with your family. After all, they were the ones you originally went with.

“And if we don't?” Allison replied. She still gave you hard glances every once in a while, confused why you knew her name and confused why Five knew your name.

“Then we'll have to settle this the old-fashioned way.” You rolled your eyes at Marcus and his corny sayings before he took down an enemy. You wondered if it was engraved in each leader's mind to be corny.

“Look, we just fought a literal army.” You nodded along, one of Vanya's memories. Ben watched you, wanting to know what you saw, but had to push it aside for later. You watched Marcus' face fall, somewhat believing the girl. “Okay? This doesn't need to get ugly. Let's all just calm down, and let's talk.” She ushered once more. She had the loudest voice earlier when she tried to calm down the others.

“Pst. Ben-er-rino.” Klaus called out to him. “You look so much better alive than you do dead.” Ben wasn't in any of Vanya's memories, only his younger version. Presuming that he did die in their memories. You didn't know what to call their version of your lives yet.

“Am I right?” He questioned his siblings, only to be ignored once again. A recurring matter in Vanya's memories, along with the present. “Except for that haircut.” Ben did have a horrible haircut.

“What the hell did you just say?” Clearly offended at Klaus' comment.

“Come on, come on. Stop with all the hostility, Mr. Grumpy Pants.” He took steps forward to be close to Ben, observing his face. “Oh wow. Nice scar. Muy Macho.” Your eyes scanned the room, confused as to why Klaus wasn't stopped. Only to have eye contact with both Five and Allison.

“Shut your mouth!” Ben's tone much like venom.

“You shut your mouth and just hug your brother-” Klaus starts but gets interrupted by Ben's fist colliding with his face, causing Klaus to quite dramatically stumble back and plop his body down the floor. Ben had a short temper, and he could get mean at times.

Another fit of arguments started before Marcus was the first one to take a blow on The Umbrellas, pushing Luther away from Ben who punched his brother. Loud bickering and taunting were the only things heard inside the living room, along with occasional grunting from Marcus and Luther as they fought.

Marcus kicked Luther right in the abdomen, causing him to fly onto Klaus who had just stood up. Each sibling picked their prey to fight. As you picked the most interesting one, Five. Diego taunted Christopher with names. Klaus faded away, getting away from all the chaos. Marcus and Luther throw and dodge punches as best as they could. The others going onto their agendas.

You sat on one of the bar stools, watching and waiting for Ben to finish his part with Five. The boy would sometimes get distracted as you watched him, getting a few cuts and bruises from not focusing, nothing he couldn't handle. Ben put him in a choke hold, before blinking away to the nearest pillars.

“Want me to cover for you, Ben?” Already standing up before being interrupted by Ben's irritated voice.

“Go help Jayme or something.” Rolling your eyes, but obeying nonetheless, already looking for Jayme.

Five's eyes watched your figure fade away, being distracted yet again causing him to take another blow from Ben. Your feet wandered off, planting them right next to Alphonso, leaning your body on one of the pillars as you waited for Vanya and Jayme to finish. Although you were a part of the unnatural and super-powered team, fighting wasn't your forte. They only ever used you if intelligence was needed, knowing that fighting wasn't your strong suit.

“Who says I'm blind, asshole.” Fei replied to Allison. Alphonso offered you the bag of popcorn, gesturing you to take some, and you happily obliged. He was also one of the people you had a close bond with. When both of you were children, he used you to experiment with his powers as you did the same to him.

Your eyes scanned the place, watching every Umbrella use their powers. You had already known and studied all of their powers thanks to Vanya's memories, but it was fun seeing them in action.

A wave of light emitted from Vanya. You feared her, and everyone should, too. She ended the world two times, what else was there to do? Sloane stepped in, using her abilities to make Vanya float and throwing her body to the wall that hung several paintings. You would lie and say that Sloane wasn't the most powerful one among all of you. Granted, there was Christopher who for some reason was a cube, but Sloane did things that would blow anyone's mind.

“Art snob, huh?” Sloane shouted from her place, making sure that Vanya heard her. Your eyes watched Diego following Christopher all the while throwing knives at him, failing miserably. You heard Klaus shout something that you couldn't quite make out due to the fact that Ben's tentacles were suffocating him.

Alphonso cheered Fei on while she was giving her all into fighting Allison. Diego passed by your side quickly, still running after Christopher who toyed with him. Just as Fei was about to strike Allison with her weapon of choice, she was stopped by Allison's manipulating words. “By the way, I heard a rumor you can't move.” Causing Fei to be stuck right where she was.

Alphonso handed over the bag of popcorn to you, taking Fei's defeat as a cue to step in and for you to step out. Your eyes scanned the place, looking for Jayme. Finally catching her frame, you jogged over to her, curious as to who was her next opponent.

A defeated sigh left your lips the moment you saw those uncovered knees. His gaze was right on yours as he helped Allison up. “Hey, short pants. What's up?” Jayme started, earning a scowl from Five, clearly uninterested in what she had to say.

Allison stood beside Five, before being ushered away. “Go help the others. I'll handle this one.” He referred to only Jayme, knowing that he had no intention of hurting you in any way. It still hurt him just by looking in your direction.

Five used his powers, blinking away behind Jayme to punch her, careful not to lay a finger on you. “More like their ringer.”

His eyes were on yours, distracted yet again, not noticing how Jayme spat on him with her venom. You leaned back on the wall, waiting for Jayme's powers to do their job and for yours to do its job.

“Hey, gross, all right?” His hand attempted to wipe away the venom, but before he could do so, his skin already absorbed the substance. Jayme simply smirked all the while raising her eyebrows in his direction, waiting for his reaction.

Not a moment later, his expression was confused. Seeing as this was your cue to jump in, you were taken aback by the scene in front of you. The vision included you by the top of the staircase. It took you a while to process everything. How Five knew your name, how Five saw you in his deepest desires, what Five uttered as he talked to you in his hallucination.

“I'm sorry, my love.” Tears already sliding down his face as he talked to the version he had of you. His body slowly inching toward you, feeling as if he was pulled in. “I didn't know, I'm sorry. I missed you, more than words can say.” He felt guilty and relieved all at once. Guilty that his hands were the same hands he used to pull the trigger on the gun, and relieved because even for a moment, he had a chance to see you.

You pulled away from his mind, being overwhelmed yet again. Once you pulled away from Five, Jayme was quick to catch you. Looking up, you saw him kissing the air, where you stood earlier in his vision. “Are they all perverts?” Jayme exclaimed. Seeing as you've had enough of the boy in school shorts, you left Jayme to deal with him alone.

Grace stood by the entryway of the living room, a plate of cookies in hand. It had been days since Jayme and Alphonso had passed away due to The Umbrella's ally. It nearly tore you to shreds, their death taking a toll on your mental health. Ben, Fei, and Christopher left you at the hotel along with The Umbrellas and Sloane, seeing as you weren't ready to stand up for a long time due to wailing your heart out.

As much as it surprised everyone, including The Umbrellas, you had formed a bond with them in the time you've been mourning your deceased siblings. They weren't as bad as your siblings told you in their stories, most especially Ben. They were surprisingly fun, chaotic, but fun.

For those days, you've made it your mission to avoid Five at all costs. Frankly speaking, Five had been on your tail, watching your every move at all times. It was the grief that drove him to do so, he had the urge to protect you from everything. It annoyed you how he would be next to you at every chance he could get. He annoyed you.

“Lovely to meet you,” Lila stated as she took a handful of cookies.

Diego gestured to Grace's nonexistent right eye, looking uneasy. “She stabbed herself in the eye.” Luther whisper-shouted right back to Diego to answer his confusion, Sloane standing right next to the bulky man as you sat on the large couch, next to the armrest.

“Welcome,” Fei started, one of her Ravens trailing right behind her along with Ben. “Please make yourselves at home.” She gestured to the different seats scattered all around the room as if this wasn't their home. It baffled you as to how Ben and Fei looked like Jayme and Alphonso's death didn't affect them one bit.

“Bitch, this is our home.” Allison commented. It was true, but you had yet to find the right moment to tell them the truth no matter how hard it was for you and your remaining siblings. However, you had also yet to know how Five knew your name or how Five saw you in the vision and why was he apologizing. Many questions are unanswered, and all it takes to know it all was to dive into his mind.

“Uh, excuse me?” Fei questioned Allison, and Allison only rolled her eyes as a reply.

“Jellybean?” Luther offered the bowl to everyone, attempting to ease the tension the two families had. Five watched you stand up from your seat, taking the bowl of jelly beans from Luther, then going back to where you were originally.

“Where the hell is Viktor and Klaus?” Diego asks no one in particular.

“With our luck, probably Kugelblitzed by now.” Five answers for him, sitting down on the armrest next to you. Normally, you would've pushed him off, but you were too tired to make a fuss, and so, you let him. Even resting your head softly on his arm, his heart rapidly beating at your actions.

“You're a dark little dude sometimes.” Five paid Diego no mind as he watched you eat your different colored jelly beans in peace.

“Ooh, what happened to your hand?” Fei asks, but before Diego could answer, he was interrupted by Ben.

Ben clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. “We don't have time for idle chitchat. Everyone, sit down.” Everyone obeying Ben's order.

The moments that passed by consisted of an unexpected fight between Allison and Viktor as the others watched with snacks in their hands and mouths, entertained by the heated argument. It was something serious that you didn't recall, something about their mothers? But either way, there was something strange that happened with Allison. Her powers worked on Viktor even without using the words 'I heard a rumor.'

The next hour or so passed by, and Sloane, Viktor, and Lila used their abilities to contain the Kugelblitz inside Christopher, which scarily enough, it worked. With Sloane's perfect calculations, it went smoothly, or as everyone had thought it did.

You watched everyone with a slight smile on your face as they danced, drank, and chit-chatted, a glass of champagne in your hand. The song Another One Bites the Dust plays loudly, yet even with Queen being one of your favorite bands, you couldn't get yourself to be fully happy despite saving the world successfully.

“Hey.” Five stood in front of you, taking you by surprise. The alcohol coursing through his veins gave him a sudden burst of energy and courage.

He sat down next to you on the couch, his eyes darting to your eyes and then down to your lips. “Five, I don't want to talk to anyone at the moment.” It was true, you had no energy at the moment to speak with anyone other than your mind.

“Can't I spend time with my spouse that isn't my spouse?” You simply rolled your eyes at him, leaving the living room and heading toward your room. His footsteps trailed closely, getting louder by the second as he followed you throughout the house.

Before you could slam the door on his face, he caught it just in time. He didn't know why he was pushy. He didn't even know why he followed you into your room. He understood that you weren't his Y/n, the one who he loved and the one who loved him back. He understood everything, perhaps it was the grief that was talking.

“Leave me alone!” You shout. Suddenly, a burst of energy filled the room, knocking some little things in the process, and resulting in accidentally jumping into Five's mind. You caught a glimpse of you and Five on your wedding day, the widest smile you've seen on Five. All memories of you and Five came at you all at once, making you stumble back, drowning in memories.

Five was caught by surprise, not catching you in time. “What the fuck?” He heard you mutter under your breath. He felt the burst of energy as well, it nearly knocked him over. With your distressed state, he assumed that you did accidentally get a glimpse of his memories.

“You weren't joking. Holy shit.” You were in denial even after he said your name, even after seeing yourself in his vision. It scared you to know that a completely different version of you existed in someone else's life.

From what you saw, Five had lived a comfortable and peaceful life with you. Apart from him killing people every time he had to. His memories were full of you, full of him being stressed as he thought of ways to solve the apocalypse, and a reoccurring memory of him pulling the trigger causing a bullet to go straight through your head.

“Did I? They? Gave you anything special?” Not knowing what version of yourself were you using. His eyes darted down to the wristwatch he had on. It was your wristwatch that he took right after you died.

“Here.” Five gave you the wristwatch. “Why do you need it?”

“I can bring their memories back, but it's risky.” Five helped you stand up, a hand on your forearm.

“Risky? How?” He asks.

“I could lose my current memories.”

You didn't exactly know what led you to helping him that night, but you were sure that it was one of the best decisions you've made. He was ecstatic the moment you came back to him. Although it was selfish, but he knew that even if you refused, he would've accepted you either way.

It took a long time before the others had adjusted to your new personality and new traits. Ben also stirred an argument with Five about how he took you away from them. It was amusing to all of them, most importantly to Five. He loved seeing his Y/n interact with his family, much like what he dreamt of.

Five didn't show it, but he was deeply affected when he had a wedding without his family members attending. He dreamt of the day that he'd remarry you, but this time, with his family by his side.

Sloane and Luther you and Five slowly swaying on the dance floor, with the soft instrumental in the background, your head rested on Five's chest as his head was rested on yours. Despite the very evident gossiping from Klaus, Ben, Lila, and Diego, the both of you paid no mind to them. Only caring about each other.

Five was a romantic, a sappy old man. Despite his background as an assassin, he loved corny and cheesy things that would either make your heart melt or make you gag. Yet he'd only do these things with you, no one else could.

“They really are an old couple.” Sloane comments, taking a bite out of her vanilla cake.

FIVE HARGREEVES TAGLIST !

@isventigayoreuropean @halfumbrella @iiirhiane-g @crinklypink @its-loki-bitch @cff3kat @umbrellatte @yuuki4646 @dontspoilthis @fivelegance

Please message me if you'd like to be removed or added!

THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST !

- ★

#extremely slow burn #SUPER PROUD OF THIS #i hope everyone enjoys this #tua #hargreeves #the umbrella academy #x reader #five hargreeves #five #five hargreeves x reader #five tua #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves x you #number five #five x reader #tua s3 five hargreeves x reader #i got a bit lazy toward the end smh #ANOTHER WEDDING SCENE OH JY GOD

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notsofastwawa · 1 year

Text

Since my last drawing of Amelia as the Cosmic Fury Red Ranger has been popping off again, I wanted to try Aiyon and Zayto!

I really like how their Morphin sequence is different from the rest of the team, so I wanted to put that sort of thinking into these redesigns! First they have the lightening bolt on their back (Zayto on his cape). It felt too cluttered when I tried to put it on their chest, lol.

Second and most importantly...Zayto is the White Ranger! Not the weird champagne color (🤢) they decided in the official drawings. Also, I wanted to tone down the space colored elements on his suit so his cape can shine in the galaxy like pattern! (How do they give him a cape and do literally nothing with it)

Aiyon is pretty straight forward in this redesign, with his arms, the stripes on his thighs and his shoes being space

So, what do you think? Did I improve on the original suit designs??

#power rangers #power rangers fanart #power rangers cosmic fury #gold ranger #white ranger

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sentinelpri · 1 year

Text

Wanted You

It’s a cool summer day when Gohan turns twenty one and decides to ask Piccolo the question that’s been bothering him since he was a teenager.

The two of them are sitting on a cliff’s edge that overlooks the long river by Gohan’s home on Mountain Paozu. The grass is green and lush, blowing in the wind that’s just light enough to be comfortable so long as Gohan is wearing long sleeves. Piccolo is in his usual attire; purple gi, blue sash, brown shoes, white cape and shoulder pads, purple and white turban. Gohan is dressed in a black sweatshirt and matching pants, an outfit that Chichi accused of not being nice enough for his birthday celebration. He wore it anyway in preparation for his time with Piccolo- just in case the Namekian wanted to train with him.

It’s his twenty-first birthday and his mom threw him a small celebration. Initially, she insisted on throwing a huge party with everyone she knows, but Gohan pushed back enough until the guest list was narrowed down to her, his dad, all of his dad’s friends, Goten, and his friends from high school; Erasa, Videl, and Sharpner. It was still far larger than Gohan really wanted it to be, but it was better than last year. After the party started to dissipate, Gohan snuck out to find one of the only people he actually wanted to see today; Piccolo, who didn’t attend the party because of the crowd.

They’ve been talking for hours. Gohan has his head on Piccolo’s shoulder. It’s a gesture of affection that Gohan got in the habit of doing a decade ago, but it’s different now. It means something other than what it used to mean, something less pure. Gohan remains just as baffled by his ever-changing feelings as he has been since his sixteenth birthday when the realization came crashing down on him. They did the very same thing they’re doing now that day, and a lot of other days, too. Gohan sighs and snuggles into Piccolo’s shoulder, not daring to speak his thoughts out loud. His romantic love for Piccolo grows stronger each day and he doesn’t know how to tackle the subject.

Does Piccolo even feel romantic love for others? He’s never talked about it, and Gohan has never asked. But, he figures now is better than never.

“Piccolo, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask, doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll answer, though,” The Namekian shrugs and crosses his arms, which makes Gohan’s head shift in a way that’s uncomfortable.

The half-Saiyan sits up straight and stares down into his lap as he fidgets with his fingers.

“Have you ever thought about dating?”

“Dating…? Yes, I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think I’ll ever partake.”

Gohan’s heart shatters into tiny pieces right then and there. It’s a very Piccolo-like answer. Part of him expected it. Still, it stings like stepping on one of Goten’s legos.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to date earthlings, they die too fast and couldn’t possibly understand me… And they’re most of this planet’s population. Your father and Vegeta are taken, not that I’d date them anyway… Buu is just weird, and I have no interest in going back to New Namek for the sole purpose of finding a partner when the few people I love are all here. Then, there is one person who’s an exception to all of it, I suppose, but I wouldn’t dare say anything to them about my true feelings… I expect to be alone for the rest of my life in that sense.”

Gohan sits quietly for a moment. He supposes with the whole ‘earthling’ thing that he himself is out of the running since he’s half earthling, so who is it that Piccolo could possibly be in love with? Another Namekian? A full-blooded Saiyan?

“Oh… Who is it that you do like?”

A pause, and then, Piccolo shakes his head and stands up with a sad, far-off look in his obsidian eyes.

“...I can’t tell you that in good conscience, Gohan. It’s complicated and I don’t want to burden you with it.”

“Okay, um, do you want to spar now?”

“Sure.”

A few days pass after that. The issue of Piccolo’s secret love bothers Gohan every second he has the free time to think about it outside of his college classes and familial obligations. He can’t clear his mind of it no matter how hard he tries. He’s jealous, and he wants Piccolo all to himself, but at the same time, he wants Piccolo to be happy. Even if it’s not him, he wants Piccolo to be with who he loves, so he’s determined to figure out who that person is.

If Piccolo won’t tell him and if he can’t figure it out, he’ll inquire with those they both know to see if it gets him anywhere.

The first person he goes to is his father, Goku, who usually gives some pretty solid advice and offers good insight despite his dense nature.

It’s a hot summer day, hotter than it was on his birthday. Gohan stumbles upon his father training outside after some searching around Mountain Paozu.

“Hey, dad?” Gohan asks, a little awkward since his father is smack-dab in the middle of swimming laps around the local lake.

He feels like a nuisance for daring to interrupt. Upon seeing him, however, his father surfaces from the water to flash him a smile. The younger of the two stands by the water’s side and waits for his father to swim over to him.

“Hey, Gohan! What’s up? Did you come to swim, too?”

“Uh, no, actually. I have lab in an hour on campus, but I wanted to talk to you before leaving… Can I ask you something?”

“What is it, Gohan?” Goku questions with a grin as he bobs up his upper half out of the water and rests his elbows on the edge to hold himself up while Gohan talks.

“Do you know who Piccolo might like?”

“Well… Hm…” Goku pauses, thoughtful. He contemplates for a moment before breaking out into an even larger grin and speaking up like he’s just solved the world’s hardest math problem. “I know he at least likes you!”

“W-What!?” Gohan exclaims with wide charcoal eyes and bright red cheeks.

“Well, you two are friends, right?” Goku shoots back, clearly oblivious.

“Oh…” Gohan responds upon realizing what Goku initially meant. The half-Saiyan lets out a sigh of relief, then nods his head. “Yeah, we are. You’re right.”

“What, is that not what you meant or something?” His father tilts his head in that dumb, innocent way that so endearingly reminds him of a puppy, and Gohan suddenly realizes that this is not the person he should be discussing the issue of Piccolo’s love-life with.

“No, no, it’s fine, uh… I’ll see you later.”

Gohan recovers just enough to walk off, leaving his father to return to Mount Paozu’s clear waters. He’s anxious about it now… Well, then. Next time he asks someone about it, he’ll just have to phrase it differently. His father probably wasn’t the best person to go to in the first place…

Gohan’s next stop in his journey to find Piccolo’s true love is Capsule Corp. It’s been a day since he tried to discuss the issue with his father and after some reflection, Gohan has come to the conclusion that he needs to talk to someone more familiar with romance than his father is. Bulma is a logical and intelligent woman with plenty of life experience and a couple relationships under her belt. Surely, even if she doesn’t know who it is that Piccolo is in love with, she’ll have some good insight about his situation.

Gohan braces himself to knock on Bulma’s front door. It’s hotter than it was yesterday. West City is sweltering with no wind in sight to ease the heat. Gohan is stuck in a white tank-top, grey shorts, sandals, and an assload of sunscreen with his few stray locks of midnight-hued hair clipped back by Videl to keep them from sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Instead of knocking on the door, Gohan catches himself in time to ring the doorbell. He always forgets that they have a nice one installed when his own home back on the Mountain just has its plain wooden door that’s constantly on the brink of falling off its hinges.

He’s unsurprised when Bulma opens the door quickly, her short cyan hair perfectly combed and a red dress on her small frame as she flashes him a bright smile.

“Bulma,” Gohan greets with a nod and walks in when Bulma holds the door open for him to enter her home.

Bulma’s top of the line air conditioning hits him so hard that goosebumps raise on his warm skin. The half-Saiyan lets out a sigh of relief. Despite the hot weather outside, the Briefs’ home is ice cold, no doubt so that Vegeta doesn’t get overheated when training. Gohan can hear the familiar noises of the gravity chamber that’s built inside the house just down the hall as he’s led to the living room.

“Gohan, it’s been a bit, how are you?” The scientist says and sits down on the living room couch.

Gohan sits in the chair across from her. As much as he’d love to sit and catch up with Bulma right now, he’s a man on a mission. He averts his eyes and gets straight to the point.

“I’m good, but I actually came over to ask you something. Aside from me and my dad, you’re the closest to Piccolo,” He starts, and it’s true. Piccolo and Bulma aren’t exactly friends, but aside from Goku, she’s been the only one out of their friend group to really embrace and try to socialize with Piccolo, even giving him a cell phone and a capsule house after the defeat of Frieza. “So I was wondering if you knew about his, er… Love life?”

“Love life?” Bulma places a finger on her chin. Gohan watches with a gulp. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea… Bulma sounds totally confused. Gohan suspects that he may be the only one out of all of their friends and family that has actually stopped and thought about Piccolo’s romantic interests. It makes sense that the others don’t see Piccolo engaging in such things. He felt like that at different points, too. Now, he’s in love with Piccolo. Things are different. He feels like an idiot for thinking about it in the first place, let alone asking both his dad and Bulma for answers as if they’d have any idea. “I don’t think he really has one of those, but Gohan, why do you want to know?”

“Well, um, I just worry for him and-...” Gohan tries to come up with an excuse. The first and easiest one that comes to mind is that he’s concerned that Piccolo. His teacher and father figure (and nothing more, of course) is lonely and needs to start dating someone. That sounds believable, doesn’t it? Before he can get through that thought, however, he senses Vegeta’s ki heading their way and is proven correct when the compact Saiyan enters the room. “Oh, Vegeta, it’s nice to see you…”

Neither Bulma nor Gohan say anything. Bulma shifts on the couch and stares down at the floor like it’s suddenly become the most interesting thing on the planet.

Vegeta walks to the couch and sits close to Bulma with an arm over her shoulder and his brow furrowed. Gohan doesn’t look him in the eye, simply eyeing his outfit instead. Vegeta is dressed in a sleeveless spandex suit that only goes down to his knees, so there’s a lot visible that he’s sure he honestly never wanted to see.

“Why’d you get so quiet all of a sudden?” Vegeta demands, then continues with a sarcastic edge to his tone. “What, are you throwing me a surprise birthday party? Come on, now, don’t let me ruin your little chat.”

“Huh? It’s nothing like that,” Gohan feigns obliviousness. “I just, um, I-”

“What were you two talking about?”

Bulma turns to face Vegeta with crossed arms and a clear glare of disapproval that the other ravenette only slightly slouches at.

“Vegeta! How rude, it really isn’t any of your business!”

Vegeta doesn’t reply to Bulma, simply talking to Gohan once more.

“Just because you’re a man now doesn’t mean you get to come into my home and play these games of secret keeping-”

“For starters, Vegeta, you don’t pay the bills around here. This is my home, not yours,” Bulma chews out her husband (?) and grabs him by the ear. Vegeta lets out a noise of discontent when she pulls at it. “Second of all, Gohan can do whatever he wants. We were just talking about Piccolo, anyway, it’s nothing for you to be concerned with.”

Vegeta huffs, pulls away from Bulma, and lowers his voice.

“What could be interesting enough regarding the Namekian for the two of you to be in here whispering to each other about?”

“Ugh, why are you so nosy all of a sudden?” Bulma snarks. “Not like you’ve ever given a damn about him, Vegeta.”

At that, Vegeta crosses his arms and looks away with a light blush. Could it be him…?

No. No way. Gohan sits there awkwardly, trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together. For a moment, he thinks he senses Piccolo’s ki in the midst of it all, but then the feeling vanishes. He must be so bothered by this debacle that he’s imagining things…

“We’re… Comrades, in one way or another,” Vegeta answers after far too long of a silence. ”Are you really surprised that I’m concerned?”

“Look, Vegeta, it’s a little complicated,” Gohan rushes to explain in an attempt to clear the tension in the air. His intuition tells him that Vegeta’s hiding something, but he refuses to interrogate the older man to find out what that something is. He nervously drums his fingers against the arms of Bulma’s living room chair while trying to find the right words. “It’s more of a personal issue, but Piccolo is fine, I’m just… Inquiring about something.”

“But Gohan…” Bulma interjects before Vegeta can say anything. “Back to the subject of why you came here in the first place, why do you even want to know that about Piccolo? Isn’t it weird for you to think about your teacher’s love life? I think it’d almost be as awkward as you thinking about Goku’s.”

Vegeta’s spine straightens within the same second that his eyes shoot wide open. His cheeks flush pink as he looks at Bulma and speaks with a peculiar sense of urgency.

“Bulma, if this is what it’s about, let the boy figure out his feelings on his own.”

“O-Oh, no, it’s not like that!” Gohan insists with a dismissive wave of his hands and a stutter.

Vegeta only rolls his eyes.

“Bullshit.”

Then, the Saiyan is up and leaving, presumably returning to his training. Another awkward silence ensues. Bulma is the first to break it.

“Uh, Gohan…”

Gohan shifts in his chair and offers an anxious chuckle, followed by-

“Don’t tell anyone? Please?”

“Sure, I promise. It’s not my business, anyway… Sorry about Vegeta, too. You know how he can be. I’ll see you later, okay?” Bulma, seemingly flustered by the whole ordeal, stands up. She straightens out her impeccable dress and looks at Gohan with a guilty sort of smile. “Sorry I wasn’t able to help you out with your problem.”

“That’s alright, thank you for your time…”

~~~

Another week passes after that. Gohan teeters between the line of giving up before he gets too deep in the shit and continuing to pursue the mystery that is Piccolo’s lone love interest. After dealing with his father’s obliviousness, Bulma’s confusion, and Vegeta’s… Well, whatever label could be put on Vegeta’s behavior was last week, Gohan isn’t sure he wants to take the risk of asking more of he and Piccolo’s shared circle of friends about the Namekian’s non-existent love life.

The more people he tells, the higher risk of it getting back to Piccolo. It’s true that Piccolo keeps to himself and doesn’t seek out social interaction, but with Gohan’s luck, he wouldn’t be surprised if it happened after this, hence why he’s now headed toward Kame House to speak with the one person he knows won’t tell another soul.

Gohan is unsurprised to see Krillin firing Kamehameha waves at the ocean when he lands feet-first in the yellowy sand. Immediately, the shorter man stops and rushes to give Gohan a hug. Gohan quickly reciprocates and grins down at Krillin, who’s the first to speak.

“Gohan! It’s been forever since I’ve seen ya, buddy, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m good, how about you?” Gohan responds with a slight tilt of his head as Krillin pulls away and puts his hands on his hips.

“I’m great! Did you just come to visit, or…?”

“Well, I suppose so, yes, but there was something I was wondering about… Could I ask you something?”

“Sure, Gohan, what is it?”

“I know this is a little bit of an odd question, but you’re good with romance, right? I mean, you’re married and all, and…” Gohan trails off and makes his way to the porch with Krillin following him. They both sit on the top steps, Gohan with his head in his hands and Krillin staring at him worriedly. “Well, to get straight to the point, do you know if Piccolo might be interested in anyone? Like, romantically?”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Gohan. It’s pretty hard to imagine that guy having the hots for someone. If anyone had a chance with him, it’d be you.”

“W-What?” Gohan shoots straight up. A glimmer of hope flashes in his chest. After two instances of it being insinuated that Piccolo isn’t interested in anyone at all, finally having someone tell him that he has a chance is reassuring… Not that it makes his anxiety about their age difference and everyone’s opinions any better. That’s a whole other can of worms that he has yet to open with himself, let alone with anyone else. “Don’t you think that’s a little weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”

“The age difference!” Gohan exclaims with a blush.

“...You know you guys are only four years apart in age, right?”

“What!? But- but he was an adult when-”

“Namekians age differently, Gohan, he was only eight when he killed Raditz and took you.”

And that’s a whole lot of information that Gohan doesn’t know how to unpack. Neither of them speak for a moment as Gohan processes. He had always assumed that Piccolo was his father’s age if not older.

“...I see,” Gohan murmurs after a moment and fidgets with his hands in his lap. “So, you think he likes me?”

“Well, I’m not sure about that for certain, but if anyone has a chance it’d be you.”

“But- but don’t you think it’s still weird? I mean, he was my teacher for so long and-”

“Gohan,” Krillin interrupts with a firm, reassuring hand placed on Gohan’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s been a long time since then, you’re an adult now. Do what your heart tells you to do and I’ll be behind you every step of the way, alright? Whether you tell Piccolo or you don’t tell Piccolo about your feelings, I’m here for you to talk to. You can come visit me any time- I know Eighteen and Marron would be happy to see more of you around here, too.”

Choked up with emotion, Gohan nods and manages to force out a reply.

“Yeah… Thank you. I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

“Sounds good. You’ll be fine, okay? Now come inside, I’ll cook us something to eat.”

Gohan lets out a sigh of relief and follows the older man into Kame House, where Master Roshi is passed out on the couch and where Eighteen and Marron are sitting at the coffee table reading a book. Maybe Krillin is right about all of this… He’ll be just fine.

~~~~

Later that night, Gohan finds himself lounging on the living room couch of the Son residence with a pen and notepad in hand. The only light is that of the lamp on the nearby table. Normally, he’d be at his college dorm, but since summer break has started, he’s been staying with his parents to spend some more time with them and Goten.

It’s half past midnight when Gohan hears feet shuffling in the hallway. He hurriedly tucks the notepad (which is filled with a list of pros and cons of telling Piccolo his feelings) between two couch cushions and tries to make it look like he’s just relaxing. Goten is the one who comes into the room, though, and even at only twelve years old, he’s able to read Gohan better than both of their parents.

“Gohan, what’s wrong?” Goten asks from the doorway, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants.

“Oh, Goten, it’s nothing,” Gohan attempts to wave Goten off with a forced smile. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Goten insists. Then, he sits next to Gohan on the couch and looks at him with a concerned expression. “You’ve been acting off since your birthday and I’m really starting to get worried. I won’t tell Mom and Dad if it’s something that bad.”

“You promise?”

“Of course!” Goten agrees with a hurried nod and puts his hands in his lap to nervously wring them together just like Gohan is doing.

“Hm… Okay, well, I’ve fallen in love with someone, but I’m afraid to tell them. Other people seem to think this person loves me back, but I’m not so sure that they actually do.”

Of course, Goten being Goten, gets to the main point and asks the one question that Gohan doesn’t want to answer.

“Who is it?”

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but…” Gohan takes a deep breath to calm himself down before confessing the truth. He closes his eyes, almost scared to see Goten’s face contort with disappointment or judgment or whatever it is that he’s going to react with. “It’s Piccolo.”

“You’re in love with Mr. Piccolo!?” Goten shouts, to which Gohan pushes his shoulder and whisper-yells back.

“Goten! Lower your voice before Mom and Dad wake up and hear what we’re talking about.”

“Oh, right, okay,” Goten chuckles and lowers his voice to a whisper as well. “Sorry, Gohan!”

“It’s fine, I just… I don’t know what to do. If I tell him and he reciprocates, it’ll be worth it, but then if he doesn’t… It’ll ruin everything between us.”

“Well, yeah, I’ll give you that,” Goten says casually, as if Gohan’s entire world ending because of his feelings isn’t that big of a deal. Then again, Goten has always been like their father, dense about social cues and far too light-hearted about everything… But maybe that’s what he needs right now. “It’ll definitely be awkward if you spill the beans and he rejects you, but I think things being weird between you two for a bit is better than you sitting around miserable like this.”

“God, you’re right… I need to tell him. Okay, I’ll do it later today.”

“Great! You know, we should go catch a movie in the meantime. That twenty four hour theater in West City is still open,” Goten suggests.

Gohan quirks a brow.

“Are you sure we should go this late? Mom will be pissed if she finds out…”

“Eh, who cares? We’ll be back before she wakes up,” Goten argues and stands up to stretch his arms and legs.

“Fine, fine, we can go… You’re such a bad influence.”

~~~~~

The trip to the movie theater with Goten ended up turning into a shopping spree and sparring as well, resulting in them not returning to the Son home until roughly five in the morning. Thankfully, they were able to slip in without waking up either of their parents, with Goten practically collapsing on the couch to sleep upon their arrival. Gohan, unable to even think about sleeping, goes to the lookout to find Piccolo.

He has to deal with the awkwardness of greeting Dende and Mr. Popo, making small talk with them despite the odd time of day. He’d normally be there to visit Dende. This morning, however, is different. He manages to excuse himself to go sit in front of Piccolo’s door, but he can’t bring himself to actually knock on it for a bit. He wastes half an hour sitting in front of the damn thing.

It’s nearly six in the morning when Gohan musters the courage to knock on the door. He doesn’t know why he bothers doing that. He’s sure Piccolo must’ve sensed his intense ki coming from miles away, as he’s so emotional right now that he can’t make so much as an attempt at hiding it.

Apparently, he’s correct. The moment his fist comes into contact with the wood of the door, Piccolo opens it for him, almost as if he’s been waiting on the other side for Gohan to make his presence known.

The Namekian is as gorgeous as he was on Gohan’s birthday, and every other day, too; dressed in a large purple sweater and matching joggers. It’s different from the usual attire, but it makes sense that Piccolo is wearing it. He’s at home, after all, and was probably either asleep or just waking up when Gohan arrived.

Gohan’s eyes trail up and down Piccolo’s body. It’s large, lean, and a hue of jade green that Gohan would drown himself in pools of if he could. Part of his mind shifts to more unsavory thoughts before he shuts it down and forces words out of his mouth.

“Piccolo, I need to talk to you.”

“Actually, Gohan, I need to talk to you first.”

Gohan freezes. He is standing in Piccolo’s doorway, feeling so very vulnerable. He shifts nervously and raises a hand to rub at his bicep. He can’t look Piccolo in the eye.

“O-Oh, um, okay, what is it?”

“I don’t know how to say this or where to even start, so I’m just going to come out with it. I heard you when you were at Bulma’s last week,” Piccolo admits. The sudden onslaught of emotion is so dizzying that Gohan has to grip onto the side of the doorway to keep himself standing up straight. So, Piccolo knows about his feelings, and Piccolo has known about his feelings for days now. Even worse, Piccolo knows that Gohan was running around probing their mutual friends for information about Piccolo’s love-life. “I was there training with Vegeta in his gravity chamber… I stayed behind when he said he was going to talk to Bulma about something, but as you know, my hearing is leagues above that of the average earthling, so-”

“You heard everything I said that day…?” Gohan asks just to be sure before he lets the well of tears building up in his eyes flow out.

Piccolo nods. Gohan manages to look up at him just long enough to see it and to see the purple blush that’s consumed Piccolo’s cheeks.

“Precisely.”

“God, Piccolo, I’m so sorry. I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us…” Gohan apologizes and uses the sleeves of his shirt to wipe the tears from his eyes before they can pour down his cheeks. The crying doesn’t stop, though, so he has to keep wiping his eyes while Piccolo stands there awkwardly, probably waiting for an explanation that Gohan doesn’t know how to give. “I- I know you don’t want me, you don’t have to say it. I should’ve just taken the hint when I first asked you about it and-”

Gohan can’t finish the sentence. A choked sob tears through his throat and takes him over so he’s sitting on the ground with his head in his hands and his knees pulled to his chest. Part of him expects Piccolo to slam the door shut and leave him there. The other part of him expects Piccolo to berate him, to call him disgusting for having such feelings for his former teacher, to tell him that he’s never had a chance and never will. What Gohan doesn’t expect is for Piccolo to get down on his knees, pull his hands away from his eyes, and force him to make eye contact.

“Of course I want you,” Piccolo swallows and lets out a heavy sigh- whether it’s from stress or relief, Gohan can’t tell. Gohan sniffles and cautiously stares at Piccolo’s face. As per usual, he’s unable to read the expression on it. Piccolo shakes his head and holds his arms out. Gohan, frantic, buries himself in them and cries even more when Piccolo picks him up and carries him inside. The door is shut behind them as Piccolo asks- “Why wouldn’t I want you?”

“It’s like you said, you’re not interested in earthlings, and you could do so much better-” Gohan starts to ramble again as Piccolo sets him down on his bed and sits down next to him.

“You’re all I could ever want, Gohan,” Piccolo effectively ends Gohan’s rambling with his reassuring words. Gohan stares at him, half-convinced that this is a dream. It must be, right? Because the way that Piccolo is so tenderly wrapping an arm over one shoulder and using his spare hand to wipe Gohan’s tears off of his face feels unreal. It can’t be real. “You’re not just an earthling- you’re Saiyan, too, and even if you were completely human… I misunderstood what you were saying when you asked me about it and thought you were going to try to set me up on a date with one of your friends or something. I don’t want anything to do with anyone if they’re not you, so I tried to throw you off by making it clear that I don’t want to date anyone on this planet. I was hoping you’d drop the subject, but I guess you’ve never given up that easily… Stubborn brat.”

“You really want me…? You don’t have to say stuff like that just to spare my feelings, Piccolo. Really, it’s okay, I can take rejection-”

“Gohan, if you don’t shut the hell up and come here right now I’m going to special-beam-cannon you into the next stratosphere.”

Gohan blinks. Then, in a rare moment of shared vulnerability, both of them laugh. Gohan listens to Piccolo’s words and falls into the older man’s arms, relief flooding him like hot water when those arms are wrapped around him. He buries his face in the crook between Piccolo’s neck and shoulder.

“I know you’re gonna get agitated with me for this, but are you really sure you want me like this…? I just- I just need to hear it one more time,” Gohan says with a nervous chuckle, all of it muffled by Piccolo’s shirt.

“Of course I’m sure,” Piccolo responds, and though Gohan can’t see Piccolo’s face, he can feel the Namekian rolling his eyes from the way the air in the room changes just a tad. “Why don’t you stay here and get some rest? You look like you haven’t slept at all, and I haven’t either. We can talk more when we wake up.”

“I… I think I’d like that,” Gohan agrees and lays back on the mattress with Piccolo lying right next to him. “I love you.”

Gohan dares to glance at Piccolo, who is already staring back at him with that fondness in his gaze that Gohan has never seen him have for anyone else. Piccolo reaches out and pushes Gohan’s hair out of his face with the slightest hint of a smile.

“I love you, too.”

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