#when i will have significantly less time to heal before going back to school

[i-like-gay-books]

i cant believe i have to wake up tommorrow and make PHONE CALLS for APPOINTMENTS that i DONT WANT TO GO TO

[existentialcrisis-24-7]

So Winx season four ? magic returning to earth

How does that go and (since I’m assuming terrestrial magic is different,how does it difffer from magic in the Magic Universe ?)

Thank you so much for the ask!

But I have to say, I already have a more-or-less fleshed out magic system, so magic doesn't really work differently on Earth. The only planet magic could be considered different on is Magix, but it still more-or-less fits within the pre-established rules I made for magic. I will say that Earth is a little odd in that despite its magic being shapeshifting, most if not all fairies are born with a secondary magic of fire, air, ground or water and the rate of people born with 3 or more types of magic is significantly higher there.

I can explain shapeshifting magic and the effects of the return of Earth's magic though!

Shapeshifting has two subsets: Metamorphosis (altering your own appearance) and Transmutation (altering another thing's appearance). Those who struggle to see images in their head tend to be at a disadvantage when performing this magic, though most regard metamorphosis as the easier route to take as you can instead feel the changes happen to yourself as oppsed to having to visualise it.

It is a magic only found on Earth and, as such, it was extremely rare even when Earth still had its magic. After Earth and its magic became lost to the rest of the Magic Dimension it nearly went completely extinct and was actually thought to be dead for a while. That was until Wizgiz joined the Alfea staff and began trying to resurrect the magic with... mixed results.

As of writing this, I have no concrete design in mind for the shapeshifting transformation, though I imagine it looks very unique and definitely would draw more from a person's individual sense of style then from a more generic standard. Names of the transformations are also a WIP (metamorphix sounds too much like morphix for my taste, and transmutix/transmutatix just doesn't have the ring to it I would like it to have).

Now! Onto how the return of magic on Earth affected things!

In summary: chaos.

Magic had been building up in Tír na nÓg for the past 1000 odd years and when it finally got released the Terrestrial Fairies (Roxy included) were given a huge temporary power boost as the magic tried to settle back in. Once magic began to settle back the power boost was lost but random people just started waking up with a new connection to magic and some people even got transformations (alignment depending). This caused a huge amount of fear and panic across Earth because nobody knew what was happening and the fact that there was so much going on in Gardenia with the Wizards and the Major Fairies made a lot of people think Gardenia itself was to blame. Having to get every single human adjusted to the idea of magic was a huge task and certainly took a while, even after season 4 2 takes place.

There was a lot of politics, history books and magical demonstrations before the world could agree that magic should even be legal, and eventually the world agreed that the island the portal was on, Avalon, would be considered its own kingdom with its own laws, ruled by the fairies. Most people were fine with this since the island was uninhabited anyway but there was still a lot of fear up in the air about this kingdom out of legends who were believed to have more power, different to anything humans had ever seen, despite being such a small population.

After Morgana took the title of Queen again, she suggested To Nebula that she take some time to herself and to heal. Nebula went on a journey of self-discovery for one month before realising there was no one to teach magic on Earth. The School of Mystic Arts was then set up near the portal to Tír na nÓg on Avalon so that people new to magic had a way to learn without having to travel off-world and also to educate people on their world's history. Though the school is still new and lacking in both a standardised curriculum and the staff necessary to teach this many new magic users, Nebula is determined to make it work and Morgana has been helping her get in contact with the rest of the Magic Dimension for help in both teaching and in reestablishing Earth among the ranks.

[emma-nation]

The Curse Of Hackett's Quarry

Chapter 2 - The Hermit

Summary: After the events of a traumatic night, Emma Mountebank finds out she still a werewolf. While she learns how to deal with this new reality, new problems and feelings come to surface. Pairings: Emma/Abi, Emma/f!OC

Notes: Thanks for the comments and likes. It means a lot to me as it's the first fic I'm writing after a long break. I hope you enjoy what I've been planning for the next chapters! :)

Full Story:

The Hermit card generally indicates a period of soul-searching, introspection and solitude. A period of isolation attempting to heal from a difficult situation. 

The morning after her first transformation, Emma had a hard time cleaning herself before heading back to her dorm in college. She was so exhausted and sick that she missed classes for the next two days.

The second transformation by the end of October wasn't any easier, but she was more prepared this time. She knew what to expect and had enough time to improve the safety measures.

The third transformation was a little less painful. Emma started working out regularly, increasing it significantly by the week of the transformation. She wanted to run a few tests and it worked. The impact of the shifting was more bearable when her body was in a better shape. 

The last full moon of 2021 was the most terrible of all, considering Emma got very sick after waking up in the woods with her clothes torn off, during a cold Winter morning. 

She had never escaped from her restraints, so far. And with her mother being a dentist surgeon, she had no trouble stealing sedatives to keep the creature drowsy. Her priority at the moment was to find somewhere safe and warm where she could transform without any risks to herself or to other people. 

In her old bedroom, at her parents' house, she felt comfortable recording a video again. Not to post online or to show anyone. But she had to vent about everything that was going on.

"People are finally starting to forget about that fucking incident at that cursed Summer Camp. My respects to Mr. H and his family - I hope they found peace, but…" It was sincere. Emma liked Chris and his kids. She lamented their Summer ended in such a tragedy. She didn't know the rest of the family, but the other counselors, who had closer encounters with them, were scared. They seemed kinda dangerous. "I haven't. I'm not allowed to move on. That night will never end, at least for me."

At least the journalists stopped trying to contact Emma or her parents again. The negative comments about her around the internet decreased too. After an episode of the 'Bizarre Yet Bonafide' podcast about Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp, more people started to believe their innocence.

"Everyone else is moving on with their lives - Abi is going to Art School, Kaitlyn is traveling the world, Ryan has started his own podcast, Nick is taking a sabbatical year, Dylan is studying quantum physics and Jacob… well, fuck Jacob. I blocked him everywhere. The thing is, I wish I could do the same. But instead I'm… surviving. I'm learning to adapt to this new fucked up reality."

She hadn't told any of the other counselors she was still infected. No one had called her in months. Yet, she'd check their socials on a daily basis, searching for signs any of them could be struggling with the same issue. Which wasn't happening, after all she was the only one who was bitten by Silas Vorez. 

"And the question remains… if Silas is dead, why am I still infected?"

January 2022

There was a reminder flashing on Emma's cell phone screen. Full Moon. That was the reason why she had spent the whole morning working out hard. Now, she was starving and ready to devour as much food as she could. Her appetite had increased significantly that one time. 

"Hey, Abi," Emma attempted to call her best friend again while she followed to the campus restaurant. "How have you been? I… I'd love to hear from you. I can't wait to hear everything about Art School. Call me."

"Hello, Red Hood," she heard a familiar voice right behind her. Penelope Dalton. One of the popular girls who wouldn't leave Emma alone. "Who's Abi?"

She ignored the question. Back in High School, she used to be one of the popular girls too and she knew exactly how annoying and cruel they could be.

"Maybe she hasn't called yet because she was taken by the Big Bad Wolf," added Christina, one of Penelope's friends, raising giggles from the rest of their cliqué.

"Or maybe," Penelope continued, "she's a decent person who stood up by her friend, Jacob. After all, we know who caused that bloody fight in the camp, after a Truth or Dare game."

The incoming transformation always triggered Emma's worst moods. The mention of Jacob's name still ignited something inside her, feelings she was trying to bury. She automatically felt her skin burning, as well as the adrenaline pumping in her veins.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Emma attempted to close her eyes and take a deep breath, fighting the urge to go feral and teach that girl a lesson. 

"Or what? Are you going to kill me and cry wolf ?"

Her attempt to be funny raised laughs. People were starting to reunite around them to watch the fight. 

Less than one second later, Emma's fist hit Penelope right in the eye. It'd certainly leave a nasty bruise.

"Your psychotic bitch! Look what you've done!"

Penelope advanced in her direction, pinning her to the ground, where she started pulling her hair. Emma's reflexes were increased due to her incoming transformation. Although Penelope was taller, soon Emma managed to switch positions and get on top of the girl, slapping her face hard.

It didn't take long for the campus security to arrive. In the end, Penelope only signed an incident report and Emma was punished with a disciplinary suspension. She was also warned about her recurring absences. 

During High School, Emma spent all those four years dreaming of college. Now, she didn't know if she wanted to be there anymore. She still could pursue her acting career without that.

After that Full Moon, she decided she wanted a break to find herself again. She decided to quit college and find herself a job. 

It wasn't an easy task. Not because she wasn't skilled, but whenever people ran a background check, she'd get rejected. People were still afraid of the negative attention her presence could bring.

That small diner in the heart of New York City was her last resort. 

"Name?" The owner, Addison Davies, asked while taking notes on a paper.

"Emma," she told, making a pause before adding her last name. "Mountebank."

The woman didn't seem to be paying too much attention, what gave her some hope. Maybe she wouldn't research her criminal records after all. 

"Do you have any experience as a waitress, Emma?"

"No, but I'm a quick learner. I'm also an aspiring actress, which means I have a lot of charisma dealing with people."

She was about to speak about her experience as counselor, where all the kids adored her. But she stopped herself. 

"An aspiring actress?"

"Yes. I signed up for a few auditions but while I don't have anything in sight, I need another source of income."

"When can you start?"

"Right now?" Emma furrowed her brows, already expecting another rejection.

It didn't happen. Either that woman didn't read the news or she really didn't care. 

"Great, come with me and I'll show you what to do."

Addison was very satisfied to see how good she was doing and how quick she learned. She never asked any questions about Emma's past. She even agreed to give her an extra day off, during one specific day of the month. 

Getting a new place to live was Emma's next goal. Her parents weren't happy when she dropped out of college. Living under the same roof was becoming impossible. They argued most part of the time. For many years, Emma did everything to please her parents and fulfill their expectations, but right now, she had other priorities in mind.  

During her free time at the diner, she'd check the newspaper for announcements.

"Looking for a place to live?" Jenna was Emma's co-worker. She treated her well since the first day, giving her some useful tips. They were becoming good friends. 

"Yes, do you happen to know any?"

"One of my roommates just moved out after graduating. Ben and I could really use somebody else to help with rent."

Benjamin also worked on the diner. He was more quiet and introspective, but very friendly. 

"Do you mind if I check it tonight?"

They lived in a studio apartment. The bedroom was large and comfortable, but what caught Emma's attention the most was the basement she noticed once she entered the building. According to Jenna, it was always locked and never used by anyone. That could be the solution to all of her problems. During the Full Moon nights, she could just lock herself in there.

"Do you think the landlord would rent it for me?"

"I don't know, you could speak to him but… why?"

"I… uh… I could use some space to record my videos and rehearse for my auditions, you know?"

Jenna didn't ask any further questions. Emma spoke to the landlord in the same week she moved to the studio. After selling her car, she paid him some cash to have exclusive access to the basement. As well as the permission to make a few adjustments.

Emma had everything prepared for the next Full Moon. Metal chains to restrain her body were installed in the basement. She didn't want the risk of an accident, in case somebody ever decided to open that door to investigate possible noises. There was also a small bathroom in there that she could use to clean herself when she became human again.

"What kind of videos are you recording down here?" Ben was in the basement, holding one of the chains attached to the walls. Wondering if she had forgotten to lock the door, Emma almost dropped the supplies she was carrying downstairs - snacks, water and fresh clothes.

"Horror. I'm really into horror movies and… I've been doing some auditions for a role in the genre."

"Every once in a month?"

She let out a breath. It was obvious they'd notice someday, but she didn't expect it to be so fast.

"Huh?" In that moment, Emma prayed she was really a good actress. She forced a confused expression. "What are you talking about? I come here everyday. When you're still at the diner."

"You were in a terrible mood earlier today," Ben crossed his arms, staring at her with a suspicious look on his face. "And you're the most cheerful and energetic person I've ever met."

"Have you ever heard of PMS?"

Benjamin let out a small laugh, before adding:

"You lost control of your strength and accidentally smashed a glass in your hand this morning."

"I'm a little clumsy sometimes," Emma lied again. 

"You made a deal with our boss that you couldn't take night shifts on one specific day of the month and the following morning," she never assumed they'd notice that one detail. "Each one of these nights have Full Moons."

She raised her hands defeated. Ben didn't look scared or even upset. He didn't even show any surprise.

"Don't tell anyone. Please? I'll find another place to live. I just need some time."

"I can help you, Em."

"What?! Why?! Are you out of your mind? I have no control of myself. I'll kill you."

Benjamin sat on a chair and asked Emma to sit too, in front of him.

"West Virginia. My uncle. One night he was hunting in the woods, when he got bitten," he started telling. "At first we assumed it was an animal, but… after that he'd transform every Full Moon. We had to keep an eye on him, to prevent him from slaughtering people."

"And…" Emma stared into his eyes. "Is he cured now? Did you find a way to break the curse?"

"He went missing," Ben answered after a mournful pause. "Dead. Most likely. The neighbors started noticing something was off."

Emma swallowed dry. If she wasn't careful enough, that could be her fate too.

"Do you think anybody else noticed something is wrong about me?"

"No, I only noticed because I became familiar with the signs. But you should tell Jenna. She's at nursing school, she could help you with the tranquilizers."

And like that, her roommates became her 'Wolf Pack', as Emma liked to call them. They didn't mind covering her shifts or staying awake monitoring her werewolf form through the cameras they installed in the basement. A shotgun with silver shells was always prepared in case the worse scenario happened. 

The mornings after her transformation were the worst. Emma would feel exhausted and sore. She'd spend hours under the shower, where she'd let her emotions flow. No one had seen her crying yet. All the time, she acted tough and confident. No one could tell there was something so traumatic going on in her life. But in the loneliness of the early hours of those mornings, she felt like a scared lonely child.

April, 2022

After months of agony and misery, everything seemed to be falling in place, but Emma still couldn't feel like herself. She'd still attempt to record videos as she used to do in the past. But it wasn't the same. Her venting always came back to the same subject. She couldn't even post that online - people would assume she had definitely lost her sanity. But at least it was a good kind of therapy.

Ben and Jenna were helping her with an extensive research, but she couldn't find any clues that lead to an explanation of why she was still infected.

"Ugh," she placed her laptop away from her. "Not even the detective I hired could find any information about Eliza and Silas Vorez. It's like they never existed."

"They were probably using fake names," Ben suggested. "The woman kept the guy caged like an animal. That's certainly illegal."

"We should try a psychic someday," Jenna said. "Do you think they'd know anything about werewolves?"

"I doubt it."

"The Deep Web?"

"Oh, no. Ben taught me how to access it and I found some very… disturbing stuff there."

"I warned you about the werewolf kink," Ben said, letting out a laugh.

"Please, don't say it again," Emma made a disgusted face. "I wish I could unsee it."

"Anyways, it's your birthday tonight and we should definitely go out to celebrate."

It was the first time Emma wasn't excited for her birthday. All the previous years she'd throw wild parties and crowd her house with friends. Now, she barely left the apartment. She was either working at the diner, researching werewolves and once in a while, she'd sign up for auditions. So far, her only work as an actress was a small internet ad she did to promote Addison's diner.

"Happy birthday to me," Emma spoke to her cell phone's camera later, when she was lying in bed. "I turned nineteen today. Yay!"

"It was different from my other birthdays. I didn't get so many messages or gifts. No wild parties either. No, crazy parties actually. I don't like the word 'wild' anymore, now it reminds me of…"

She didn't finish. It was always hard to say it aloud. Even to herself. 

"I went out with Ben and Jenna to try to forget about… that thing . Sometimes I can allow myself to act like a normal girl and have some fun. I met some people during our night outs. Guys and girls too. But dating is not an option right now."

"I mean… how am I supposed to even squeeze a relationship among all this crazy shit that has been happening to me? I know some freaks have a werewolf kink but I bet they'd run away the second I burst into that bloody mess of a monster."

"There's one person though… nevermind."

She turned off the camera. The person she had in mind hadn't even called her yet. Not even to wish her a happy birthday. 

June, 2022

It was the beginning of another Summer. Almost one year had passed since that last night at Summer Camp. Emma was on her lunch break when got a call from an unknown number. Her heart skipped a beat - she was expecting a call about an audition she had done a few days later. But she never imagined the voice on the other side of the line would ruin that little balance she was attempting to keep in her inner world.

"Emma? It's me, Abi."

"A-Abi?" The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile. "It's… uh… it's been a long time. How have you been?"

"I'm home from college and I was wondering if you'd like to hangout."

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lesson 17

Series Masterlist

So, the aftermath’s here! This took significantly longer than I thought it would, but oh well. Enjoy everyone!

So, to recap where everyone’s favourite dysfunctional demon family are at right now: Belphie’s still guilt spiralling but he wants to make amends, MC is having a self worth crisis because of what happened, Lucifer was homicidal less than a day ago, and the rest of the brothers are very mad at Belphie.

So, a good little while passes, MC moves back into their room and doesn’t really come out or try to talk to anyone, Lucifer practically lives in his study, and Belphie holes himself up in whichever room that no one else is in.

Keep in mind, no one knows the truth about Lilith’s death yet because it never came up because MC isn’t a descendent of the human version of Lilith.

The brothers (sans Belphie) went and visited MC, who was very happy to see all of them, but everything felt kind of off, everyone was slightly on edge. But nobody brought it up because no one wanted to be the catalyst for the next big family fight, especially so soon after MC got hurt.

It had been almost a week and MC could barely cobble together the desire to leave their room. They had made themselves a prisoner in their own house right after freeing Belphie from his house arrest, how ironic is that?

Stupid…

How naive could they get? To think that just because they were family that everyone would welcome them with open arms? And how stupid would they have to be to believe that they were a proper demon like the rest of them? Demons were manipulative tricksters at their nicest, if MC didn’t understand that than they were a shit excuse for a demon.

Spending time lying in bed staring up at the ceiling wasn’t the best way to pass the time, but MC had grown tired of flicking through the same five apps on their DDD and had contemplated chucking it at the wall. With nothing to distract them, MC was alone with their thoughts.

Of course they couldn’t fend off Belphegor, of course they lost… they barely had any better a hold on their magic than they did when the year started. They weren’t a full demon, but they weren’t some weak little human either, but maybe things would have been better if they were human. If they were human, they wouldn’t have had magic, they wouldn’t have had a fighting chance at all. There would have been no shame in losing. But MC wasn’t a full human, they had their fighting chance and lost anyway.

“MC?”

Their head snapped towards the source of the voice. Through a bright gold glow, they saw an unfamiliar woman, her eyebrows were knit with concern. Not being able to muster up the energy to really be openly panicked, MC sat up and rested their head on their chin, then raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Oh! Um…” the ghostly woman puffed out her cheek and twiddled her fingers as her eyes darted around the room. “I didn’t exactly think this introduction through, my bad…”

It was MC’s turn to be confused, standing in front of her was a woman who didn’t look like an angel or a demon, yet somehow was able to cobble together the magical strength necessary to actually make herself visible to MC. And now, she was stressing about an awkward introduction.

“I’m Lilith!” The woman finally blurted out, she clamped her eyes shut and quickly stuck her hand out.

MC blinked at the outstretched hand like it was a completely foreign gesture. “…what?”

“Yeah! Um… I uh…” Lilith withdrew her hand and facepalmed. “I’m really sorry…”

“I-uh… Lilith? Like… Lilith, my father’s sister Lilith?”

“…yes?”

“…please explain.”

And Lilith did explain, she explained the ghost bit, how she can’t technically go up to the Celestial Realm nor does she want to, and how she’s kind of been playing guardian Fallen Angel to the entire family.

MC finally got to learn the reason the Grimoire was in the tomb, and why their father was so damn loyal to Diavolo.

Lilith also explains that she’s kind of the reason MC is down in the Devildom in the first place. Lucifer picked an entirely different totally normal human, but Lilith switched the files and MC was brought down instead.

MC still obviously had questions.

“So…” MC mumbled. “That’s why he tried to kill me.”

Lilith pursed her lips and looked away. “Yeah…”

MC let out an explosive sigh as their hand unconsciously creeped to their neck. MC’s fingers brushed over raised skin from barely healed over scratches.

“He wants to apologize.”

“What?”

“Belphie, he wants to apologize to you.”

MC snorted and rolled their eyes, they shifted over so Lilith couldn’t see their face. “Hmph… maybe if he grovels enough I won’t sic Cerberus on him…”

“You’re under no obligation to forgive him-”

“I know!” MC snapped, grinding the base of their palm against their eye to stop the tears that threatened to burst. “And I won’t!”

The problem was, Lilith’s story actually ended up making MC feel bad for him, which made them feel angry at themselves, which made them feel more upset than before.

On one hand, Belphie was motivated by the loss of someone incredibly close to him and never received closure because Lucifer kept Lilith’s “survival” a secret.

On the other hand, Belphie tricked, manipulated, and then tried to kill MC. That couldn’t just be waved off with an “oh he was just grieving”

After some deliberation, MC decided they were going to do one more thing to help Belphie.

“Father.” MC hit their knuckles against the door to their father’s room. The door opened almost immediately and Lucifer stood in the doorway.

“Yes MC? Do you need anything, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to talk to you.”

“Come in then,” Lucifer stepped aside and MC walked into the room, he closed the door behind them. “What is it?”

“I know about what happened with Lilith.”

Lucifer froze, MC did their best to hold his gaze and not waver.

“You need to tell everyone.”

“…how did you find out?”

“She um… told me. Lilith, I mean… she’s still around.” MC awkwardly twirled their finger in the air as they explained. “You’ve kept this hidden for too long, the secret has to be told so this can end.”

Lucifer wasn’t on board immediately, but eventually, he was convinced.

Everyone was gathered, including Belphie, and Lucifer explained what had really happened the day Lilith had died.

Of course there were shouts of shock and outrage that slowly melted into a melancholy silence. Lilith was still around, but her presence was so limited, but she was still there with them! Their sister was still there!

When everyone dispersed to go process the news, Belphie approached MC.

“H-hey.”

MC almost outwardly shuddered at the sound of the Avatar of Sloth’s voice, but they held firm and turned to face him.

Anything they wanted to say died in their throat as MC got a good look at Belphie for the first time in over a week. He looked like complete and utter garbage. His hair was a mess, bags lined the underside of his eyes, and his entire posture seemed to just droop like a wilting flower. Though, it wasn’t like MC had much of a platform to stand on when it came to critiquing appearance at that point in time, they looked just as awful.

“What do you want?” MC asked quietly, they had meant to put more force behind their words, but most if not all of their focus had gone towards not allowing their voice to break or waver.

“To apologize.”

So, Lilith was right, he was sorry. Rage bubbled in MC’s gut as they clenched their fist. How dare he think he could just, apologize and think everything could turn out okay?! MC opened their mouth to scream, cry, hurl every insult they had spent the previous week thinking about, but nothing came out. The anger subsided and MC deflated, they crossed their arms and gestured for Belphie to go ahead.

“Go on.” They mumbled.

Belphie’s gaze drifted to the wall, he clenched his pillow tighter to his chest, then looked back to MC. At least he had the decency to look them in the eye.

“I’m sorry for what I did, MC. I messed up and I hurt you. I blamed you for something you had nothing to do with, even though you were nothing but nice to me. No excuse would make what I did any better, so I’m… I’m sorry…”

MC gnawed on their lower lip and knitted their eyebrows. He sounded sincere enough, but MC wasn’t just going to roll over and forgive him just like that. They were still so angry and betrayed, but they didn’t want to be. Stupid feelings…

They took a deep breath and squared their shoulders, looking Belphie directly in the eyes.

“Okay.”

“…okay?”

“Okay.” MC repeated. “I’m not going to forgive you just to absolve your guilt, but I’m done with this. It’s over and I’m moving on. If you’re really sorry, don’t ever do something like that again.”

The tiniest glimmer of hope sparkled in Belphie’s eyes as he nodded. “I swear on my life I’ll never do anything like that again.”

MC stiffly nodded. “Good. Now, I’m going to my room. I have school tomorrow.”

When Belphie turned to go back to his room, Lucifer melted out of the shadows and stood next to MC.

“That was very big of you.”

“Thanks father.” MC mumbled.

“Are you sure you want to go to school tomorrow? I can ask Lord Diavolo to extend your time off.”

“No,” MC shook their head. “I’m ready. Besides,” They stifled a giggle. “I don’t want to miss everyone’s reactions to Human History.”

Wanting to watch demons freak out about weird parts of human history is a very valid reason to want to go to school.

Anyway, all eight residents of the HOL goes back to school, and MC’s cover story was that they had gotten the flu and was too sick to go to school, and Belphie had been brought back from the human world early. No one had the balls to question the seven rulers of hell, so no one asked any questions.

Luke was very excited to see his friend again, so excited that he got in trouble for talking in class. No big deal, lunchtime was still free for them to talk!

The day was perfectly normal, which was a blessing for everyone.

Diavolo officially deemed that Belphie was no longer a threat to the exchange program, so Belphie was allowed to return to his student council duties without issue.

Things between Diavolo and Barbatos and MC were quite… confusing.

For one thing, Diavolo was the crown prince and MC had really liked him before the stuff in the previous timeline and learning about exactly how he had secured their father’s loyalty.

And for Barbatos… he was just fucking terrifying.

“MC!”

The sound of Diavolo jovially calling their name jolted MC out of their thoughts. Thinking about the upcoming Demonology midterm would have to wait.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo.” MC knew better than to be openly pissed at the soon to be monarch, especially after everything that had transpired.

“Are you doing alright, MC? How has school been treating you?” Diavolo continued to pepper MC with questions with barely any gaps for MC to actually reply. Barbatos stood on the sidelines with a soft neutral smile on his face, which only served to unnerve MC more.

“I’m doing fine, Lord Diavolo. There’s no need for concern.”

Diavolo’s rampant questioning came to a stop, and MC swore they could see his expression fall ever so slightly.

“I’m glad to hear that, MC. If you need anything, just ask!”

He ended the interaction with a hesitant pat on MC’s head before walking off to his next class. Though, the presence of the butler still loomed behind MC.

“While I’m very glad you’re well, MC,” Barbatos said icily calm. “I must ask that you refrain from going into my room again.”

“Y-yes sir.” MC mumbled.

“Have a lovely day.”

Reason why everyone should be at least a little afraid of Barbatos #473

The relationship between MC and the Royals does end up getting repaired eventually, it’s just… really awkward for the time being.

Home was still awkward as all hell, the murder attempt definitely weakened the brotherly bonds MC had spent months repairing, and the hostility wasn’t doing MC’s emotional recovery much good.

“This is ridiculous.” Lilith’s voice popped into MC’s head while they sat at the dining table finishing up their homework. MC jumped slightly in their seat and frantically looked around for their aunt’s apparition.

“What’s got you spooked?” Satan asked from his place across the table.

“N-nothing. Just a chill.” MC quickly replied, trying to go back to their work.

“Nice recovery, MC. Very smooth.”

“Shut up!” MC thought. “What are you doing in my head?”

“If you want me to leave, just say so.” Lilith’s nasally childlike huff nearly caused MC to openly roll their eyes.

“No, what is it? What do you need?”

“I don’t really need anything, but look at this fractured house!” Lilith cried. “This is worse than the time Mammon stole everyone’s pocket watches!”

“Pocket…watches?”

“It was 1803, get with the program, MC.”

“Lilith, what are we talking about here?”

“Oh! Right! Well, this house is insanely divided and sucky right now, it’s terrible!” Lilith whined, as much as MC hated to submit to their ghostly aunt’s whining, she did have a point.

Just that morning Asmo just happened to neglect to paint Belphie’s nails when he went out of his way just minutes earlier to track down Lucifer to make sure his nails were painted. Later when Belphie walked into the library with Beel, Satan ended up picking up the cat and walking straight out. Satan walking out of a library was like a fish walking out of water.

That wasn’t the only thing either, Mammon had taken it upon himself to be a human (or demon to be more precise) barrier between Belphie and MC at almost all times. The only times when Mammon couldn’t do that was when the witches decided to summon him.

Levi continued to be a recluse, but on the rare occasion he did come out, there was no friendly hellos between him and Belphie.

Lucifer… well, he did a good job hiding his contempt. He had respected MC’s decision to let Belphie try and fix things and he himself seemed eager for everything to be fixed, but he wasn’t exactly aiding in the repairs. Every time he had to look at Belphie it was so expressionless that MC swore that Mammon could swipe someone’s wallet right in front of him and Lucifer wouldn’t even frown.

Even Beel, he bounced back the quickest in terms of being ready to be around Belphie again, but the even psychically linked twins couldn’t fully shake the feeling of distance between the two.

“Well, what do you want me to do? Last time I tried to fix this family’s problems I almost died.”

“H-hey, I don’t think you should joke about that just yet…”

“Bite me. I wasn’t joking.”

“Well… okay. But I can’t really manifest any power right now! Smacking some sense into Belphie really took a toll on my ability to do much.”

“Hmph…” MC thought long and hard, well, two minutes long. “We could hold a movie night.”

Lilith gasped and MC swore they could hear the sound of her clapping her hands together. “Yes! Everyone can hang out and eat popcorn! Oh it’ll be great! Build a Fort! Forts bring people closer together!”

The movie night was the first of many little get togethers that MC quietly orchestrated to get everyone back on speaking terms with each other. They weren’t a direct part of all of them, but they could see the good they were doing.

A small video game tournament, going out to eat together, just relaxing in the same room, all of it added up, and sooner rather than later everyone was back to… not hating each other.

The brothers are still brothers after all, there’s always that tiny instinct that tells siblings to try and ruin the other’s day

As for Belphie and MC’s relationship…

Things slowly but surely moved back to the way they were before. MC came out of their room to sit with everyone and hang out, everyone progressively let Belphie back into their lives, and the nightmares gradually lessened.

For the first time in a little over a month and a half, MC felt truly safe again, which was odd considering they were in their planetarium with someone who they declared they’d never forgive. They still hadn’t, but things had gotten better.

Belphie was doing his damndest to show that he was truly sorry about everything. It started off with small things; helping MC clean the house, giving them pencils when they didn’t have any, covering for them when they had dinner duty,

The little victories may not have seemed very noteworthy, but to Belphie and MC, they were everything.

“That’s Orion, that’s Orion’s Belt,” Belphie pointed up at the shifting ceiling of the planetarium, tracing each and every constellation that he saw and pointing them out to MC and Beel. The latter had seen these stars and heard Belphie’s explanations a thousand times over, but never tired of them. MC was staring up at the gorgeous sight of the human world night sky they had left behind with a small smile on their face.

“That’s Ursa Major,” Beel pointed up as he offered MC the bag of chips he was eating.

“Mhm,” Belphie quietly chirped, he then pointed to a nearby constellation. “And that’s Ursa Minor.”

“Huh, if you connect these stars, it looks like a pair of pants.” MC piped up, tracing the set of stars.

Belphie snickered and nodded. “Yeah, it kind of does.”

“Look, that one’s a spatula!” Beel pointed at a constellation, Belphie snorted and facepalmed.

“Beel, Buddy, that’s the Little Dipper.”

After a little while longer Belphie let out an explosive yawn and stretched out like a cat. MC and Beel yawned in response.

“I’m goin’ to sleep.”

“Belphie wait,” MC giggled. “You can’t sleep here!”

“Watch me.”

“You’ll get a sore back, Belphie.” Beel picked up Belphie and slung him over his shoulder as the Avatar of sloth began to snore, he then turned and sat MC on his other shoulder. “Bedtime for everyone.”

MC let out another yawn and rubbed their eyes. Maybe Belphie had the right idea, it was late as hell…

——————

Author’s Note: You ever know how you want something to turn out in your head, but the moment you go to write it down you kind of want to yeet yourself into oblivion? Yeah that’s what happened here.

The game itself didn’t give me much to work with in terms of how everyone would react if MC didn’t shrug off their near death, so… 🤷‍♀️ oh well! What’s done is done!

[azolitmin]

Slowing down

It probably hasn’t been noticeable if you don’t follow me on twitter but my art output has slowed down significantly over the past couple of months and the short story of it is that I am in pain haha my right arm hurts! I’m really thankful for everyone who has been patient with me and my art and sticks around even though I’ve just been posting and reposting old stuff I’ve made and especially the love I get when I can finally post something new. I’m hoping that physiotherapy can help me get back to 80% at least before my consultation with a specialist.

Please don’t feel inclined to comment! I just wanted to say something because it has been on my mind for awhile now.

Longer explanation and feelings below.

I’ve been trying to figure out a way to post what has been happening in my life on twitter since it has been my main social media platform but every time I start to write a post/thread/twitlonger I get so nervous being vulnerable online haha so that’s why I’m posting to tumblr first since I have much less followers here.

The pain in my dominant hand is pretty constant (for the past 2-3 years) and usually I can manage and push through it with enough rest, which is why art in general has been really slow. I went to see my family doctor about 2 weeks ago because I initially thought it was carpal tunnel (though any brace I used did not help unfortunately u_u) and she told me that there is some muscle degeneration in my hand haha (picture me trying not to panic), so now I am waiting to see a neurologist to test the signals of my (ulnar) nerve and what not, though it probably won’t be for another 3 months :’) Hoping physiotherapy can help manage pain and some healing like it did with my shoulder pain oof.

I don’t know if its correct to say I have anxiety about art, but I’m definitely feeling conflicted in some sort of way like– when I first started taking more breaks it was easier to use school as an excuse, but now that I’ve been out of school for 4 months its like... I have no excuse LOL. I find it hard to focus on drawing because of the association with pain and then I feel guilty for not drawing because I need to draw!! I do love doing art and it is kind of my livelihood. I’m very fortunate to be in a situation that I don’t have to be drawing constantly to make ends meet. 

Anyways, I could probably go on about my fears and feelings about my art and my physical pain and how it’s affecting me mentally, so thank you if you did take the time to read some of my ramblings. Again, please don’t feel the need to reply I just wanted to say something and get it off my chest.

[sunnyoldbear]

Luca Headcanons Part 3!

I can’t fucking stop please someone help me

Luca:

All seamonsters have a lot of fish qualities and different sea monsters take on different fish qualities, even within a family.

While Luca isn’t as equipped to handle the deep as his uncle is, his father does have some traits that would help him out. Luca doesn’t know this, but he can survive deeper pressure than most others can. Like, significantly deeper, but not to the point of the Deep. He’s have to get accustomed to it and he might not have even survived.

His species can also echolocate! He also doesn’t know he can do this even though it’s from his mom’s side. He just thinks he clicks and squeaks when he’s happy, he doesn’t know he can also echolocate. Since, again, he hasn’t been to the Deep, the ability is very diluted and he can’t locate things very far but… he can, if he tries hard enough. He won’t, though, cause he just thinks his clicks and squeaks are just that.

He loses his shit when he finds out about dinosaurs. He loves them.

If you even mention a museum he will practically beg to go and he will be in there from opening to closing and still come back for more. He takes in every bit of information he possibly can

He doesn’t flip people off, he just sticks his tongue out

Cloud watches! He thinks it’s cute :)

Is cold blooded. They found this out when he passed out in the middle of class one day during the winter. Winter months are very hard for him at school because of it, so he treasures the break and stays under a bunch of warm blankets.

Talks with his hands a lot

One day when he was swimming to the surface after seeing his family, a fisherman who wasn’t too approving of sea monsters tossed their harpoon at him. It grazed his arm and it hurt like hell, but he still tried to hide it. Of course, since he was clutching his arm and there was blood between his fingers, the Marcovaldos panicked and healed him tot he best of their ability, but Luca simply smiled, turned to Alberto, and said “look, we match now!” (If you see Alberto standing beside Luca so that their scarred arms touch since they’re on opposite arms, no you didn’t)

He finds out about bubble wands and thinks they’re the coolest thing!

Avoids every kid named “Bruno” at school like the plague because he doesn’t want them to think he hates them

Whenever something cool happens he instinctively turns to tell Alberto and his face drops when he doesn’t see him

Definitely the kid to accidentally say “mom” (and)or “I love you” to a teacher and then stare in horror

Grabs Alberto’s arm, wrist, or hand when they’re doing something together if he’s not grabbed first just so they don’t lose each other. It’s just instinct.

Once sobbed for an hour because he saw a dead frog in a pool

Falls asleep if his hair is played with

Still gets made fun of for smelling like fish but due to being a fish he can’t really bathe so Giulia and her mom just spray him with perfume. It makes him feel better.

Forgives Guido and Ciccio with no hesitation, will never forgive Ercole. In fact, he’s terrified of Ercole.

Technically canon, but he is the biggest mama’s boy. She learns from her mistakes and fixes her relationship with him and he becomes super close to her

Only lets those close to him call him “Bubble” like his grandma does

Loses his mind when he sees fireflies

He keeps his hair pretty short

Refuses to eat fish

Is more of a prey fish

That being said, he develops a few survival markings, such as a spot on one of his fins to look like eyes

For some reason I feel like he’d be like clownfish and be able to swim through anemone without getting zapped

Was never good at making friends. The Branzino kid often tried to befriend him but he was too scared of disappointing his parents since Daniela and Mrs. Branzino don’t get along

Wears a seashell anklet

His grandma taught him to read secretly when he was little

Never stops talking. Never.

In class, he’s always the kid raising his hand, even if he doesn’t know the answers, just because of his eagerness

Calls Alberto all the time, more than he calls his family

Carries Alberto’s drawing with him everywhere. Used to be in his pockets and then transferred to his wallet.

Is definitely more of a writer than an artist! With his vivid imagination he can write for days, and Alberto is more than happy to draw them out for him

Lets his hair grow out a bit towards the end of his final school year. The stress of school means he doesn’t quite care for his appearance

Can’t sit still. When he’s at school he’s always fiddling with something but when he’s in Portorosso he just grabs Alberto’s hand and plays with his fingers

Definitely a teacher’s pet

Gets bullied a lot. You can’t expect the world to just be okay with sea monsters overnight. A lot of the world will never accept him. There are kids that make his life a living hell at school.

As much as he loves school, he aches to be free sometimes

Gets super flustered super fast

Sits at Alberto’s side and talks about anything and everything and Alberto will sketch it

His scales are more like a duck’s water-resistant feathers. Water rolls right off.

Loves taking Nerone for walks

Definitely wears skirts and dresses in secret! He just thinks they’re neat :)

Loves romance movies but will never admit it

Literally bites his tongue to hold back from rambling. Giulia and Alberto constantly have to tell him it’s okay and he can talk all he wants, but he’s bullied so often for talking too much that he still holds back if he catches himself

Alberto:

Similar to a Betta Fish! His kind of sea monster aren’t known for bonding well and tend to fight.

When healthy, his scales are long and gorgeous just like a Betta’s! (Giulia is mesmerized by them)

You know how dolphins get high with puffer fish? It’s not just dolphins.

His teeth are a little sharper than most other sea monsters. Yes, he bares them at Ercole every time they see each other. No, he won’t stop

Definitely the “he ask for no pickles” friend

No one knows what he’s talking about half the time except for Luca, Giulia, and (sometimes) Massimo. They just kinda go with it.

Has his own words for everything. Only Luca and Giulia know what he means.

He’s actually super, duper close to Giulia, but they do fight pretty often. They’re siblings.

Likes to put his hat on Luca

Everyone thinks he’d be a bad flirt/get flustered super easily but the opposite is true! He’s a big flirt! He just knows what to say to make others fluster around him! Even if he’s not into you, if your his age or he’s trying to charm you, he’ll flirt up a storm. Living on your own from such a young age means you need to pick up survival tactics, and charm and streetsmarts were the ones he picked up.

Sometimes he faces small boats he sees just for the fun of it

He also sometimes grabs a rope or a net from Massimo’s boat when they’re fishing and just zooms to land to get them there quicker

Loves playing games with the kids when he’s on lifeguard duty, even if it can get him in trouble with his boss

You better bet he makes fun of those school uniforms. He laughs his ass off. He thinks they’re the funniest things.

If he sees or hears even a hint of danger, he is shoving his loved ones behind him and will protect them with his life.

Prefers to be barefoot

Heals surprisingly fast. Something about them fish genes.

When he’s fifteen he jokingly tells Luca he should become a teacher and then Luca’s eyes get all big and excited and Alberto regrets opening his mouth. But he still supports him every step of the way.

Whenever he hears Luca click or chirp, he calls out for him if he’s a distance away or grabs his hand since he recognizes it as echolocation before Luca does

More of a predator fish

Keeps his hair long and growing

I think he’d probably grow a mustache. Giulia hates it so much which is why he keeps it. Okay, he kept it to annoy her, but then he actually started to like it. But when Luca said he liked it, that solidified it

He’s so strong it’s kinda scary. Definitely stronger than the average fisherman, but was stronger even beforehand.

Sometimes just eats fish live and terrifies those around him

He’s super fast! Since he’s based on a tuna or swordfish, he’s pretty quick

Unlike Luca, he’s warm blooded. So when he heard Luca has to keep really warm during winters, he offers most of his clothes

His father abandoning him may seem cruel, but for his kind of sea monsters, it was what had to happen. Still, Alberto is a child and it shouldn’t happen.

Mainly a night eater

Can see further than most of his fishy friends

Good night vision too!

Was taught to read and write as a kid by his father but it’s not perfect so he asks Massimo to do it

Loves playing cards

Fins are sharper than average

Squishes Luca’s cheeks

Sword fights with Giulia except they’re sticks

Whenever Luca falls asleep on him (often), he just stays still and refuses to move

Scoops Luca up sometimes

Grabs Luca’s face and blows raspberries instead of kissing it. (Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic!! Italians kiss on cheeks as greetings)

Protectively wraps his tail around those he loves

Water clings to him a bit more since his built-for-speed scales are less water repellent

Every year he gets scared Luca won’t return

Paints the Hideout to look like Luca’s dream fish-stars after he’s told about it. The ceiling, anyway. Don’t ask how he did it, no one knows.

Changes his last name to Marcovaldo

Thinks pet fish and aquariums are hilarious and will poke fun at the fish (“haha, losers! No freedom!” “Alberto!” “What?!”)

LOVES DINOSAURS

He and Luca share a bed when Luca comes over!

The Vespa poster hangs in his room on his door

Calls Luca’s nightlights “light fish” as a nod to stars

Has Giulia and Luca’s names tattooed onto him because they’re his best friends

Tried to take Caligola and Machiavelli on walks… yeah that goes as well as you think

Giulia:

Is a fast reader

Isn’t a massive poetry fan but does have a few favorites

Also keeps a few drawings from Alberto in her folders

Also scoops Luca up randomly

Can and will bite you

Wears dresses as much as she does shorts

Ties her hair up when serious

Rubs her nose against her family’s as a sign of love. It’s just something she did as a kid, so sometimes she’ll just rub her nose against Alberto’s and he gets really confused

Is low key a little jealous of her brother and best friend being sea monsters

Is a bit of a builder! She makes a bridge from her room to the treehouse

Rarely starts fights with Alberto, but she’ll sure finish them

Half regrets teaching Alberto to swear

Though she seems pretty calm, she’s gotten into her fair share of fights at school. Mainly punches kids who bully her and/or Luca. Also sexists.

Although this is 1950/60s Italy, I imagine she’d be very accepting of homosexuality and not hide it, even if rumors of her being one start spreading and she gets hurt. She has a strong sense of justice and she doesn’t care about consequences.

She’s the only person allowed to make fun of Alberto. No one else is. She’ll quite literally attack anyone who dares.

Her parents were surprised she didn’t take after them in fishing or painting

Honestly I can see her mentoring the kids for the race every summer! Once she hits 18 and is no longer able to compete, she holds practice sessions and loves seeing the kids have fun

She definitely runs the race when she’s older. She moves to Portorosso since her marine biology career is helped by her sea monster brother and the town’s closeness to water

Teaches the boys to make sandcastles

Holds such strong resentment for Alberto’s father and Daniela. Lorenzo and Luca’s grandmother she’s fine with, but Alberto’s biological father abandoning him pisses her off more than she can put into words, and Daniela manipulating her son and sending him away makes her want to break something.

Her “santa (cheese)!” comments slowly change into “Santa (fish)!” exclamations. Like, “Santa Goby!” for example. 

Is more close to Alberto than he wants to let people know. She can read him like a book. He’s honestly her best friend. She tells him everything, they go to each other after nightmares, they share everything, all the fun cute stuff that Alberto would rather die than admit.

Still has no idea what “Silenzio Bruno” and “Piacere, girolamo trombetta” mean and at this point she’s too afraid to ask

Though she loves the Portorosso kids, she’d rather die than be a mother. Her parents understand, but secretly hope she changes her mind so they can spoil a grandbaby. 

Begs Massimo to coverup his sea monster tattoo, which he does

Also a “he ask no pickles” friend!

Is super patient with Luca and Alberto’s adaption to the human world (though she doesn’t like it when Alberto shoves his feet on her-which he loves to do because it pisses her off)

Secretly saves money up for the boys to get a Vespa

While she isn’t the best cook, her pasta meals are pretty damn good! 

Has the trophy from the Cup in her room next to a picture of the three of them on the Vespa

[liquid-luck-00]

Lantern!Marinette 2

Ao3 *** Part 1 *** Here *** Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay so I didn't touch Mari's parents before so here it is.

Simple explanation the magic that flows from Adana erased Mari's existence because she was so young. However those that loved her, that she loved, or who were impactful our Mari's life will remember her as a dream or imaginary friend respectively. If or when they meet her again it would be 'I know you from some where, but I don't know from where.'

In all intense and purposes Mari is a ghost.

So with that said here we go.

---

So here she was starting middle school in Coast City. It was actually not half bad. same there was nothing about the intergalactic wars, the policies that set the Green Lanterns as the Galactic Police force or any history she learned from the Blues. This actually made her dangerously behind in Earth history, but Marinette was always a quick study. Her English, math, science, and art were amazing and her physical capabilities made her a star athlete. Only downside was making friends, like seriously everyone stayed in groups of two. Add to the fact she knew little of Earth culture and customs, made it hard to interact with others outside of class work. All in all she was shy.

Whenever a villain would attack and she was able to assist she would, but she made sure she was not seen and only boosted her dad's powers while healing injuries before they could be noticed. This only lasted about a little over a year.

She knew better than to call dad when she knew that he was in a meeting with the JLA, but it was kinda hard to ignore the yellow blur running through the city causing havoc.

"What's wrong?" He answered on the second call, murmurs were heard in the background.

"There's a speedster in yellow tearing up and down the city." she responded simply.

"Can you see..."

"Crap!" was shouted on the other end "Got to go. Reverse got out." Someone yelled but she didn't recognize the voice.

"I'll go with you," dad sighed. "He is in Coast." was the last thing she heard before dad ended the call. She took that to mean she should transform and help minimize the damage and keep an eye out.

Not even 10 minutes later she saw a red blur followed by her dad's green one. (They were held up by a nosy Bat who couldn’t help himself because someone cough*Superman*cough decided to eavesdrop on the call.) She updated him, and he repeated it, to who she now recognizes as the Flash, and they got to work.

It didn't take them long to defeat the Reverse Flash, but here is where they ran into a problem. Coast was equipped to deal with most metas but speedsters that got their power from the speed force were different, and by that they meant difficult.

"I have an idea." She piped up through to her dad’s comms.

"Come on over and share with the group." She landed not even a minute later spooking the Flash. "What's the idea."

"Am I not supposed to ask who this is?" Was asked by Flash, but he was completely ignored.

"So you know how the speed force allows speedsters to vibrate which allows them to pass trough matter, which is why transporting and containing speedsters are so difficult." She began to explain.

"Um..." Dad seemed completely lost. This was something she learned with the Blues in order to understand for when she would eventually come back to Earth.

"How do you..?" Flash seemed to look at her as if she just grew a second head and was suddenly very dangerous.

"Well if we create a double construct that infuses both frequencies of the spectrum" Marinette continued.

"It'll stop him from escaping since it would be two simultaneous frequencies working in tandem occupying the same space and speedsters can only vibrate at one at a given time." Flash caught onto her idea.

"Exactly!" she beamed.

"Alright let's try." Dad agreed once he fully understood.

They tested a small square and tightly wove several strands of energy until a swatch was big enough and tightly worn enough was created. They continued to expand it until Reverse Flash was in a bubble, which they proceeded to fly to Star City. After dropping off Reverse Flash, the actual Flash practically dragged the two lanterns to his home.

"Okay Jordan spill." Flash was now in civilian clothes, dad crossed his arms and huffed dropping his transformation and she followed suit, slightly hiding behind him.

"Hey Barry dinners just about ready." A woman came out of the other room. "Hey Hal want to join us?" she asked smiling and then spotted her. "Who's this?"

"Dinner would be lovely Iris," Dad replied smiling. "And this is Marinette," he pushed her forward and she gave a light wave and smile.

"Hello," was barely audible.

The woman, Iris, turned to Flash, Barry, "Dad and Wally should be here soon." As the words left her mouth the door opened and revealed a man and a teenager.

"Heya Auntie Iris, Uncle Barry, what's up Hal,” and he froze seeing her, "Um... Hi."

He was a blur until that, so speedster.

"Wally why don't you and Marinette get the table set." Iris suggested breaking the awkward silence between the two teens.

Wally led her to the kitchen, "I'll get the plates, can you do the table?"

"Sure." she answered and used the constructs of the ring to expand the table and bring over two more chairs.

"What?!" the plates began to fall from his hands, so she reacted since he didn’t seem to, catching them in another construct moving them over to the table. "Your a blue lantern!"

"Yeah, and you're a speedster." she shot him a smile. After that dinner was significantly less awkward, seeing as everyone knew or was a hero, and was filled with questions and lots of laughter, mainly getting to know her.

"In all seriousness you might want to keep her away from the Bat." Barry joked.

"Bats isn't getting Bluebell. Hell if today hadn't happened you wouldn't have known about her." Dad grumbled.

"Why should I stay away from a bat, I thought they were harmless to humans, or are you talking about a bat used for sports?" She was genuinely confused.

"Bats is a nickname for Batman a vigilante from Gotham. He a few years ago took in a ward." A soft ‘Oh’ was heard from her, but Barry continued "So, when are you going to introduce her to the rest of the League."

"I won’t if I can help it."

"But we knew this would happen sooner or later." she piped in.

"Yes but you've only been on Earth a year."

"You kept her from us for a year. Good job Jordan." Barry complimented.

"Year and a half actually, but better now than during something cataclysmic." she rationalized.

"That's true." Dad paused a moment before exclaiming, "I see what your doing little lady." A mock scowl on his face.

---

That was her first friendship she made. Wally would randomly come over for the week end. She found out about a month later that it was whenever he needed a breather from his teammates.

That in turn meant that she would know quite well the inner workings of the team as he knew she could keep it a secret. When in private he would use (in the beginning at least) Robin, Artemis, Aqualad, Superboy, and Miss Martian otherwise he he ended up using pokemon names to describe them while in public. He had taken it upon himself to help her understand Earth culture and that mainly revolved around playing a lot of video games,watching movies or tv, or going out to various locations. Riolu, Chikorita, Croconaw, Machamp, Ditto and of late, a new teammate called Zatanna, nicknamed Kirlia. In all honesty she heard the nicknames so often that that was how she knew his teammates. It got to the point that he would call her Togetic, so in retaliation she calls him Pikachu.

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @miraculouspenta

Taglist: @anjuschiffer @michaelshadow7779 @maskedpainter @corporeal-terrestrial @slytherinhquinn

[xenospacebabe]

Broken Wings pt2.

A/N: Ya’ll thanks so much for the positive reaction to my first drabble! A few of you asked me to continue it so I think I’ll make this a little bit of an ongoing thing. Enjoy! Also, I’m doing this all from my phone, so I can’t do page breaks. Apologies to anyone just scrolling by!

Summary: After breaking one of his wings, Hawks breaks into an animal clinic for some help. Little does he know that the doctor there would occupy his mind this much.

For some reason, this had been the longest week in your career. Your techs noticed that you were a little bit distracted in the moments of downtime between patients. But they knew better than to pry into your personal business, history proved that you had a very solid separation between work and real life. You never mixed business with pleasure and it made you a better doctor, in your opinion. It helped you focus more intently on your patients and their care.

That being said, even the most complicated cases couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to the winged hero who essentially broke into your clinic for a broken wing. You wondered if he was taking your advice by resting his wings and his body. However given that he was the number 2 hero, you knew that probably wasn’t very likely.

After the last surgery of the day was finished, and the last client was out the door, you and your technicians cleaned up the clinic so they could all go home. First to arrive last to leave, today was no different. But today you showed up early just in case Hawks-...Keigo.. decided to drop by before you opened for a check-up. And when he didn’t, you were frustrated with disappointment you felt. You remained hopeful that he would appear tonight.

By the second hour after closing and no sign of the pro hero, you felt your heart hanging in your stomach. So with a heavy sigh, you started checking hospitalized patients to make sure they had what they needed and turning off lights. Though just as you had given up and opened the side door to leave, you were greeted with a full vision of giant wings.

He was there.

“Keigo!” You yelped out in excitement, the smile on your face illuminated the space between you.

“Hey Doc.” His voice drawled, smirking. He liked how happy you looked to see him. It made his heart flutter in a funny way. “Miss me?”

“Maybe. Come inside, we’ll get you checked out.” You retreated back into the clinic and he brushed past you. The discouragement you felt earlier faded away with every passing second and was replaced with pure joy.

Keigo followed you into exam and leaned onto the counter, sharp eyes trained on you with a bright intensity. You weren’t able to put your finger on how it made you feel when his gaze was headstrong on you. Nervous? Excited?

“So, how are you feeling? Any pain or numbness?” Right to business. He admired that about you. Instead of fawning over him and tripping over your words, you were calm and composed. At least, that’s what you wanted him to think. Inside, you were in chaos.

“Ehh...not really. It’s sore but that’s about it.” The wing in mention shifted slightly. You noticed that the splint you had placed was in really good condition. Save for a few rubbed spots where you assumed he was trying to scratch. That meant he was resting, taking your advice in stride.

“You know, there’s no secret cameras or microphones here. You don’t have to pretend.” He froze in place, his expression stilled with shock. Keigo hadn’t realized he was being that transparent. But honestly, it was easy to see. The bags under his eyes indicated he wasn’t sleeping well. Or at all. You waited for a response. This wasn’t uncommon. Pet parents lied all the time to make it seem like they weren’t making any mistakes when their animal was sick. But honesty helped you help them. And eventually, they would always relent.

“Damn, it’s that obvious huh?”

“Oh yeah. So, spill it.” Your hands slowly reached for the wing to get a feel of the splint. It needed a few adjustments which could be easily done.

“It uh...aches. And it’s really dull and ongoing. But it goes away. I can handle it.” Nodding along to his explanation you fished into a drawer beside him for scissors, another roll of tape, and a few pads of gauze.

“I can write you a script to fill at a pharmacy for some relief. And don’t think of telling me no. Is the pain ever sharp?” He nodded quietly.

“Is that bad?” You gingerly removed the tape and padding from the existing splint, making sure to not pull on his feathers or apply unnecessary pressure to the break.

“No, so long as it doesn’t keep up and you don’t have any fevers or anything like that. If you don’t care, I want to get another xray to see where we’re at as far as healing goes.”

The hero grinned, looking so smug and you didn’t know why. He leaned in close, his nose only a few inches away from yours. From this short distance you could really see how rich the golden color of his eyes were, just like an actual hawk. However, the stare she was getting wasn’t from just any bird. It was from this handsome, charming pro hero who make your insides squirm.

“If you wanted me to take off my shirt all you had to do was ask.” The redness came to your face in a rush and you suddenly felt hot. The sound of his chuckling only made your heart race and palms sweat.

“I-I-...it’s just easier-...we don’t have to-...”

“Relax, I’m kidding~” You sighed as he removed his jacket followed by the top of his hero uniform. His skin was significantly less bruised, you noticed. The cuts and abrasions were healing very well. However, in taking in the state of his wounds, you didn’t realize that you were staring.

Keigo’s physique was so clean and cut that you couldn’t help but wonder how his skin felt beneath your palms. What the heat of his body felt like. Eventually, you became aware of your unwavering stare and cleared your throat to break the awkward silence.

Several moments and a few xrays later...

“Okay, so everything is starting to bond the way it should. See the humerus here?” Your finger pointed to the bone with a jagged fusion starting. He nodded to indicate he understood. “It’s still pretty unstable so will need to remain splinted. But that’s normal for a break like this.”

Shouldering his jacket and slipping his arms into the sleeves, he popped the collar back up into place before sighing.

“Right, still grounded.” The tone of his voice seemed sad but you were understanding of why. For someone with as little freedom as Keigo, denying the one thing that made him feel liberated felt like a punishment.

“I’m sorry, Keigo. But you’re doing great so far. I’m really happy with the progress I’m seeing.”

The process of resplinting his wing was painful, but not as bad as it was the week before. You made sure to layer the gauze carefully so the bones would be cushioned and safe. Keigo admired how gentle your hands were, how soft your palms felt against his sensitive feathers. It took a lot of effort to remain composed around you. But as soon as you were done and your hands left him, he was left with a lingering sense of longing.

The hero followed you out and into your office where you sat down in the old chair that had been there almost as long as you’d been alive. He looked around and noticed all the pictures and belongings that decorated the walls and shelves. Honing in on one photo in the middle of the wall of a little girl holding what appeared to be a newborn foal, he looked back at you.

“Is this you?”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah. That was the first foal I ever helped my dad deliver when he was working with horses.” Keigo looked impressed and moved down the line of frames. Lots of smiling faces and memories.

“You were a cute kid, y’know?” Hands shifted into his pockets and he leaned against a filing cabinet. You scoffed and waved your hand dismissively. “No really. You grew up into a really beautiful woman. Inside and out.”

“Really?” You looked at him in confusion. Your hair was a mess and you were wearing yesterday’s mascara. Surely he was just teasing you like those boys did in elementary school. Always picking on you because you came to school with horses on your tshirts and nose always buried in books about animals.

“Well yeah. I don’t just let anyone put their hands on my wings and have my feathers, you know.”

“About that. Why did-..”

“I can’t explain it, but I just wanted to make sure you were safe, I guess.” You were thankful for the dim lighting of your small office so he wouldn’t see your cheeks blush. You weren’t used to compliments like that and it showed.

“So uh-...Same time next week, Doc?” He could sense your exhaustion and decided not to keep you here longer than needed. But even so, you visibly pouted at the thought of saying goodbye again. Without thinking, you found a sticky note and quickly scribbled something down before handing it to him. “What’s this?”

“J-just for emergencies. It’s my cell number. If you know...if you feel any pain or need anything while the clinic is closed.” As he looked at the numbers you wrote the prescription you mentioned earlier which he then accepted and slipped into his pocket.

“Heh alright. Maybe I’ll shoot you a text if I get lonely.” The panic on your face made him laugh. You really were cute. Why did he have to say it like that?

“Oh my god, just go!” You shrieked, shoving him out the door while he continued to laugh. However before he relented and disappeared, he turned quickly and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You stood still in stunned silence. Your skin tingled where his lips had been, fingers lifting to touch the spot in disbelief.

“See ya later. I’ll text you.” Keigo backed away down and disappeared into the dark alley. Leaving you standing there wondering if you had dreamed what just happened. Your heart raced, the pulse thundering in your ears

Oh no....

[sylvermidnight]

An in depth look at HWS New Zealand

Name: Mikaere (Meaning godlike or one who is like god)

English Given Name: Howard (Howie) Kirkland

Human Age: 18

National Age: 180+

Gender: Non-binary (He/They)

Sexuality: Bisexual

General Appearance: Howie is around 5′5, they’re slight in stature but they can be big in presence. He is Māori, so his skin is a more warm brown than most of his “siblings” He somehow managed to inherit Arthur’s green eyes, something he regrets more than anything about his appearance. His hair falls in thick soft curls around his face, normally tucked back behind his ears. His face and body are splattered with freckles that get just a little bit more prominent when he’s been out in the sun for long periods of time. He has a large tattoo on his back, taking up most of it, and even dipping out across his hips and waist. The second tattoo is a band around his left arm. He also has a large scar running the length of his torso, and a smaller one cutting under his right rib. Aside from those he has many tiny ones across his hands and legs that heal up quickly from stupid stunts. He has a tongue piercing but he doesn’t always leave it in. He tends to fidget with it when he does. 

As for clothes he can be found on one of two extremes. Cottagecore or punk. He is fond of his soft sweaters and work boots. But he also can be seen sporting leather jackets and spikes. It all depends on the mood of the day. But he does typically give off an approachable vibe either way.

General Personality: They’re not exactly a quiet type for sure. They’re outspoken about their needs, wants, and opinions. He’s both a lover and a fighter. Taking care of his siblings when he can, but not hesitating to go to bat for them in a fight. Howie loves children and is always willing to babysit if another nation needs it. He’s a goofball at times, and pulls stupid stunts that can land him hurt or in trouble. He’s one of a few of the anglosphere children to yell in Arthur’s face, in some ways taking after Alfred.

Considered Family List:

Arthur Kirkland (England)

Jett Kirkland (Australia)

Alfred Jones (America)

Matthew Williams (Canada)

Jia Long (Hong Kong)

Ireland

Scotland

Tā moko:

The Manaia rests in the center of his back, surrounded by intricate patterns that somewhat tell his life story.

The Manaia represents the connection to the spirit world and the mortal, and is said to ward off evil. Howie got it right before leaving to fight in WW1 thinking it would protect him, and wanting to bring pride to his culture and home.

On his upper left arm rests the Pakati pattern in a thick band.

This marks them as a warrior and he got it before leaving for WW2. Older now, and independent he believed it was time to take that title as he had been involved with many conflicts leading up to this.

History and timeline:

The New Zealand Wars

Mikaere was born sometime before the coming conflict. Whom he was raised by up until that point is unknown. They do not remember them, and Arthur never met them. When Te riri Pākehā (Another name for the conflict) began Mikaere was still a small child. They don’t remember it all too vividly but they still resent it as it was the beginning of English control and the destruction of their native culture. It was during this time Mikaere was found by Arthur and for lack of a better term, adopted. He was renamed Howard, and took on the last name Kirkland. It was also then that he was moved off the island to best avoid the fighting and when he met his brothers. He bonded well with both Jett and Jia Long (Then anglicized Leon). But there is still a lingering resentment to this day for the happenings of this time period.

Early Childhood:

Howie was raised in the same house as his two closest brothers, and that created a strong between the three of them. Arthur was not the most attentive parent in the world and that lead to many issues growing up. They weren’t unhappy or lonely but they were often homesick and confused. When Howie was around eight or nine he met Alfred for the first time and it is still something they are confused about. Their older brother was much preferable to Matthew or even their father. But it still felt strange. Alfred often came bearing gifts and large boats and many loud and unpleasant people. And at dinner there would always be some sort of argument. He was too young at the time to understand that Arthur was still at odds with his eldest. Other notable events are; the continuation of Māori resistance, a visit from Germany, a visit from Japan, a surprise visit from Russia, and the first New Zealand built locomotive.

Gaining dominion status and the Great War:

After gaining dominion status in 1907 Howie was faced with a choice. They could either move out of Arthur’s home and return home permanently, or they could stay. Jett had gained independence in 1901, six years earlier, and he was home less and less. Out of guilt however Howie decides to stay and look after Jia Long, and at times, Arthur. He worried his father may not be able to handle losing another child. As WW1 crept closer on the horizon Howie prepared to go to war by receiving his first tattoo, the Manaia across his back. The disaster of Gallipoli left him scared as almost three thousand of his men died, he still holds resentment against Arthur for that, and slowly over time it festers. He goes on to fight, transferring to the western front and participating in the Battle of Passchendaele where 3,700 of his soldiers fell. This only added to the length of the painful and deep scar cutting across his heart and torso. Finally the war comes to an end, however when they return home new truths come to light. Arthur confesses to the details behind his name change and how he came to be in his care. This paired with the folly of Gallipoli was enough to make him break ties with his father figure and finally strike out on his own.

WW2:

Howie enters WW2 at Arthur’s behest and participates in joint operations with him for a time. They get their second tattoo, denoting them as a warrior. After the attack on pearl harbor war is also declared on Japan and Howie worries after his older brother significantly. As threats of a Japanese invasion rise Howie finds themselves at home more and more, taking on the role of medic for the first time and finding they rather prefer the position. In June of 1942 Alfred arrives and the two spend a lot of time together before his departure. He participates in the invasion of Italy not as a soldier but as a medic, having decided that is the role he prefers to play. Before the war ends he gains another scar, under his right rib. This represents the battle of Monte Cassino.

Then to present:

After that Howie attempted to avoid conflict. They’d rather not follow in their father or older brother’s footsteps. Though he continues to care for his family, as well as seek Alfred’s approval, he’s more set to look inward. For now he’s moved on to better days, finding a solid relationship with Yong-Soo, and applying for medical school which would be the first time he attended college.

Brief relationship bios:

Arthur:

The relationship is a parental one. Though not exactly solid. Howie loves him terribly but they often find themselves at odds with him. They blame him for a lot of his troubles and rightly so. Their childhood was not pleasant. But for all of the pain they still check up on him regularly. Making sure he knows he’s somewhat appreciated and not forgotten. They do their best to explain how they’ve been hurt and why things can’t be the way they were but it’s difficult.

See following fic for more elaboration:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30438327

Jett:

Jett is Howie’s closest companion and has been throughout their life. Despite being the younger sibling they take a defensive role over him and will fuck up anyone who tries to start shit. They were brought closer via abandonment but they made the best out of it. They’re too halves of the same idiot. Often Howie will get into trouble and Jett will take the blame for them, allowing Howie to keep up his innocent façade.

Alfred and Matthew:

Alfred is somewhat protective over them, while Matthew could not care less. Howie’s relationship with Alfred while distant, is solid.

Jia Long:

Jia Long is the third in Jett and Howie’s group of terror. While not as often involved he never passes up an opportunity to get into trouble with them and Howie often employs him on pranks targeted against Yao and Arthur. They sort of understand where the other is coming from. Not completely, but some of the experiences are the same, causing them to bond. Once again Howie is highly protective over him and will go to fists.

Ireland and Scotland:

I don’t have solid characters for either nation but I do know historically speaking they would have good relationships with Howie. Historically New Zealand has stood behind both of them when it comes to conflict with Britain and the immigration rate back and forth between both countries is very high.

That’s it for now but I constantly have brainrot about this kid so probably more at a later date.

[polaroid15]

With Great Power...

Chapter 4: With great power comes a great need to stand up to bullies

Summary: Peter stands between Flash and a bully. Turns out, they can be friends after all.

Read on Ao3 HERE

------

“Yo Penis Parker!”

Peter groans.

“Where’d you get that sweater? The trash, probably. Seems like your thing.”

From beside him, MJ stiffens. Then without missing a beat, flips up her middle finger. Peter would give anything to tell Flash that the sweater used to belong to Tony Stark, that he gave it to Peter personally after a rough night on patrol because he was Spider-Man.

Yeah, that would shut him up.

Instead he shrugs. “The trash, Timbuktu- whatever floats your boat man.”

Unpleased by his response, Flash crosses his arms in a show of dramatic flair. They’re standing at their lockers, the lunch bell having just rung, and it’s more than obvious that the results from their calc test last period has put him in a bad mood. Well, worse than normal anyways.

And when Flash is in a bad mood, Peter ends up paying for it.

“MIT?” he scoffs, narrowing his eyes at Peter’s chest. “As if you’d ever have a chance at being accepted there.”

“Unlike you?” MJ digs. “I sat behind you in Calc, dumbass. Looks like you could spend less of your time being an annoying idiot and more time hiding your face behind a book.”

Flash falters. MJ had hit him where it hurts and it shows. He opens his mouth to retaliate but before he can he’s being lifted up by the collar of his shirt and slammed into his locker. Students gasp and back away from the altercation, though lots pull out their phones. After the initial shock Peter recognizes Flash’s attacker as Jake Miller. He’s twice as big as Flash and three times as mean.

“What the hell Flash!” Jake yells. “You said those answers were legit! My dad is going to murder me!”

“They were! I don’t- I don’t know what happened!”

“I was supposed to ace that stupid test. This is your fault!” With another low noise of anger Jake pulls Flash away from the locker only to throw him back into it. This time, harder. Flash’s soft gasp of fear passes through Peter’s chest like cold water.

Damn it. Of all people, why did it have to be Flash?

“Hey!” Peter yells, stepping closer. He feels MJ’s hand close around his wrist. “Come on. Leave him alone man.”

Jake’s shoulders tense. He throws Flash on the ground where he lays and covers his heads with his hands. But Jake’s attention is turned on Peter. He smiles wickedly. “And what are you going to do about it? Flash is gonna get what’s coming to him.”

Slipping from MJ’s strong grip, Peter advances further. Where the hell are all the teachers? “It’s not his fault you’re too stupid to take a calc test.”

“What the hell did you just say?”

Curling his hands into fists instinctively, Peter raises his chin. The whispers around them are growing louder. From behind Jake, he sees Flash staring at him with awe and holding his shoulder like it hurts.

“I said you’re an idiot Jake. An idiot, a cheat, and a bully-”

His spider sense warns him of the incoming punch and it takes every particle of his self control to not move. Jake’s knuckles hit him square in the nose and he can’t help but gasp at the sharp pain. He’s been hit in the face before, sure, but never without his mask.

A bone snaps. Stars blossom up behind his eyes and he stumbles back, feeling warm blood leak down over his lips. MJ tries to catch him and they both end up on the floor with Jake above them, staring at his fist in shock.

“Not cool man,” Peter groans.

Mr. Harrington appears then, finally, and pales significantly at the scene. It doesn’t take long for him to click the pieces into place. “Jake, with me. MJ, help Peter to the nurse’s office.”

Some students cheer as Jake is marched away. Others send Peter unsympathetic looks. He feels MJ’s hands tighten around his biceps. “You okay?” she whispers.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Believe me, I’ve been through much worse-”

But when he stands a sudden rush of vertigo washes over him. He tips and almost falls, choking on his words, and two sets of hands reach to steady him. He expects the second to belong to Ned, but when he opens his eyes, it’s Flash.

“Parker!” he yelps, his cheeks flushed. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He’s too shocked and dizzy to push him away. “He was being a jerk.”

“So was I!”

“He was going to pulverize you.”

“I could’ve taken it.”

At this, MJ snorts loudly. “No you couldn’t.”

Ned skids to a stop beside them, his eyes wide. “Peter! Are you okay man? What do you need?”

Feeling some relief at having Ned by his side, Peter nods towards the end of the hall. “Bathroom.”

“What?” Flash stutters. “He needs to go to the nurse-”

But Ned and MJ are already helping him down the hall, parting swarms of their gossiping classmates like the Red Sea. Reluctantly Flash follows them, and Peter can’t help but notice how fast his heart is beating.

He tries to catch the falling blood in his hands but there’s too much of it to really spare the mess. He’ll feel bad for it later, but right now all he can think of is getting it to stop.

When they reach the bathroom Peter eases himself down on the toilet seat as MJ starts unrolling wads of paper towel. He presses it to his face and whines at the pressure. “This sucks,” he decides.

Ned shoots Flash a dark glare, to which Flash swallows heavily.

“Lean forward,” MJ instructs. “And pinch your nose here. It should help stop the bleeding.”

Peter obeys, a pulsing headache starting up behind his eyes. There’s blood in his mouth and on Tony’s MIT sweater, which really is more disappointing than the injury itself. Because bones heal, but man is it hard to get blood out of fabric.

“It’s not slowing down,” Flash says, shifting from foot to foot. From worry or awkwardness, Peter isn’t sure.

“Why are you here?” Peter asks.

To this, Flash deflects, a usual defiance crossing over his face. “Why didn’t you go to the nurse?”

Peter, Ned, and MJ share a significant look. Peter sighs. “It’s not that bad.”

“That’s absolute crap! There’s a literal puddle of blood underneath you right now! You’re acting like this is normal or something. As if you weren’t weird enough already-”

Ha, Peter thinks, if only you knew.

He would reply, expect he’s feeling increasing light headed. More blood falls against his tongue. Resisting the urge to spit it out, Peter lets it sit. He closes his eyes and feels Ned’s warm hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Mm? Yeah. Just give me a minute.”

They don’t just give him one. They give him ten. But even then the blood doesn’t slow. He urges his healing factor to kick in as he begins to seriously consider if Jake is human.

The blood at his feet grows. MJ and Flash start to argue. It makes his head spin. He almost misses the buzz of his phone in his pocket but manages to pull it out all the same, a smear of red appearing on his screen as he accepts the call.

“‘Lo?”

“Jesus, kid. What the hell is happening? I just got an alert from your watch that your blood pressure is dropping like crazy. Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

Eyes closing, he finds the energy to push out a humourless laugh. “Yep. At school. Don’ worry ‘bout me. Everything’s fine.”

“Then how do you explain your vitals?”

“Is that Mr. Stark?” Ned asks sharply, reaching for the device. Peter swats him away and nearly faints when it upsets his balance. Has his heart been beating this fast the whole time?

“Kid?”

In his weakness, Ned snatches the phone away and holds it up to his ear with determination. “Mr. Stark?”

Peter can still hear Tony’s responses, the worry in his voice increasing at Ned’s own apparent distress. “What’s going on Ned?”

“Peter got punched in the face. He broke his nose and is losing a lot of blood. I mean, a lot. Remember the Rhino? It’s like that. Way more than he should be.”

“Damn it. His healing isn’t doing anything about it?”

“Ned-” Peter moans.

“No. It just keeps getting worse-”

“Ned.”

“Christ. Okay, hang tight. I’ll be right there. Can you give the phone back to Peter?”

Peter grabs his phone back from Ned, narrowing his eyes as MJ switches out his paper towel. “Mr. Stark you don’t have to come-”

Flash stumbles where he stands. “What?”

“Of course I’m coming,” Tony snaps. He sounds angry, Peter thinks. “Look Pete. By what Ned says you’re losing a lot of blood. Try to stay awake until I get there okay?”

“It’s jus’ a nosebleed. I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. And remember- no passing out!”

Peter is halfway through objecting before he realizes Tony has hung up the call. Exhausted and hurting and embarrassed, Peter throws his phone at the sinks. Flash edges towards it and picks it up, wiping off the blood with his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Already Peter feels his anger ebbing. He sighs, leaning his aching head against the cool metal of the stall. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Of course he does,” MJ says while Ned nods in solemn agreement.

Flash looks nervous, a characteristic that is decidedly very un-Flashlike. “They’re right. I’ve been a dick. And you still saved me from getting flattened by Jake.”

“He had it coming.”

“Maybe. But I’m still sorry.”

A thick silence floods the bathroom, interrupted only by the sound of Peter’s steadily dripping nose. Looking more earnest, Flash wrings his hands together. “I’m sorry Peter. And not just for this. For- for everything.”

Peter.

He smiles even though it makes his head spin. White spots are gradually eating away at his vision but he elects to ignore them. “It’s cool, Flash. I promise.”

“How touching,” MJ says.

Another wave of dizziness passes over Peter so strongly that he can’t see straight. He feels three sets of hands hold him up as he struggles to breathe in air through his mouth, the blood he had been keeping in dribbling out onto the floor.

“Oh my God!”

Tony.

His mentor’s swimming image suddenly appears as Peter dares to crack open an eye. He looks disheveled but alert with worry, his hands replacing Peter’s own at the bottom of his nose. “I said no passing out, remember? I really can’t leave you alone for three seconds-”

For some reason, Tony’s presence has Peter feeling weak. Because it’s safe. It’s over. “I got blood on the sweater you gave me,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What? Kid, shut up.”

“I really liked it. I’ll still wear it. Promise.”

Over Tony’s shoulder Peter sees Flash with his hands in his hair, chest heaving with unbelief. Despite everything, the look of shock on his face makes Peter smile.

“How’d this happen?”

MJ and Ned both look at Flash. Peter tries to open his mouth before Tony can notice but it’s too late. He stares at Flash with suspicion. “Well?”

“Um. Uh-”

MJ sighs in annoyance, crossing her arms. “Peter took a punch for Flash.”

Tony doesn’t look surprised by this. If anything, his expression softens. “Of course he did.”

“Was nothin’,” Peter insists. He’s not sure if he feels like throwing up or fainting. Maybe both. “That guy had it comin’. Jus’ like that mugger las’ Friday-”

“Okay!” Tony interjects loudly, patting him on the shoulder. “I think it’s time for us to head out. Feel up to a trip upstate?”

Peter can’t nod. He uses his free hand to give Tony a bloody thumbs up.

“God, kid. You’re a disaster.” Tony helps him stand and grunts when Peter falls heavily against his side. “A bloody disaster. Literally.”

“He’s a hero.”

Everyone looks at Flash in surprise, another wave of awkward silence following his words. Flash blushes fiercely but looks straight at Peter regardless. It feels like an apology, like understanding. Something warm in Peter’s chest distracts him from the throbbing pain in his face.

“Thanks Flash,” he says, surprised that he means it.

Because maybe, just maybe, they could be friends after all.

[ephemeralstark]

Hang In There

Summary:  Peter is swinging to see Tony after school when the weather causes an accident and he falls.

AN: includes blood and injuries descriptions, proceed with caution if this bothers you at all.

Whumptober Day 1: prompt - hanging. 

Peter was not having a good day.

It had all started when he’d woken up fifteen minutes after his first class had started - and it just had to be the day he had a big unit quiz - but despite waking up late he was determined to make it there in time for second period, which he would’ve if the subway hadn't stopped for forty whole minutes because the signal to the tracks had been lost. It was just typical.

Not only that but by the time he did make it in, he was met by the principal and the promise of detention at the end of the day. Naturally, it was Thursday which meant that the detention would be cutting into his workshop time with Mr. Stark, and seriously ? Why was he so unlucky?

So, once he’d finally finished his detention, in which he was forced to listen to that damn pretentious video that the school seemed to love with Captain America lecturing them, seriously? Didn't they know the man was now classed as a war criminal? Did they really think it was appropriate to keep showing that to children? He shot May a quick text to let her know he was going straight to Mr. Stark’s and wouldn't be home.

Which took Peter to the present, where he was swinging in pretty significant winds and trying his best to put all the bad luck behind him. He was going to work with Mr. Stark and have a nice evening, he was sure of it.

“Peter, I would advise walking the rest of the way,” Karen said, “the winds are worsening and it’s becoming unsafe.”

“When is swinging ever completely safe?” Peter retorted, having no intentions of landing, it would take forever to finish his journey if he did, especially since people liked to stop him and ask for photos and autographs - which he’d normally love but today wasn't a normal day for him, “there’s always some kind of risk involved.”

“Risks that I am here to try to reduce,” Karen reminded him, “and walking, or even running, would reduce that risk significantly.”

“Come on, K, live a little,” Peter said with a grin that he wasn't entirely sure she could pick up on.

“I am an artificial intelligence, I can’t ‘live a little’,” she told him.

“Come on, don't make me hack you to improve your humour.”

“That was funny,” Karen argued, “it was witty, sarcastic, and related to the current situation.”

“If you have to explain it that much then you didn-” a sudden gust of wind caught Peter just as he was about to change his direction, “woah!”

“Is this an appropriate time to say I told you so?” Karen asked.

Peter, however, was unable to reply as he was frantically trying to right himself in the air, but unfortunately, everything was in the wrong place and when he tried to shoot webs, they would never land where he wanted. The ground was growing closer and closer until suddenly, it wasn't.

“No, no, no,” Peter muttered desperately as his enhanced eyesight turned into a curse for him and he could see the path he was following, he could see where he was going to end up and he was one hundred percent sure that he didn't want to be there.

“You appear to be-”

“I know!” he yelled, and then he hit the spikes.

The scream that left him was bloodcurdling and Peter was sure there wouldn't be a hearing person in the five-mile vicinity who wouldn't have heard his shout… or he had been sure, but as he was left hanging, his body suspended in mid-air by the three spikes that had impaled themselves into his left leg.

“Calling for help,” Karen said calmly, knowing that this wasn't the situation to ask for permission.

“Oh,” Peter whimpered through his tears that were annoyingly falling down his forehead thanks to his upside-down position, “oh god, I can't.”

He could feel the dampness on his leg spreading and part of him wished he’d lost consciousness, maybe he still would, maybe if he lost enough blood then he would finally get some reprieve from the agony that was radiating through him.

“Ah, ah, Ka- Kar’n,” he panted out, struggling to force his mouth to form the words due to the pain, “how… long?”

“Help will arrive in approximately four minutes,” Karen informed him and Peter thought he would die on the spot hearing that.

Four minutes didn't sound like a long time, after all it was shorter than five minutes which wasn't as long as an hour, but four minutes when he was hanging upside down, body suspended due to impaled metal in his leg, was a lifetime.

“I-” he broke off with a choked sob,” K- Kar’n, I c’n’t do i-it.”

“You can, other than your blood pressure dropping from hypovolaemia and sustained tachycardia as a result of the same issue and the influence of pain, you’re doing great,” Karen said and Peter couldn't even muster up the energy to respond to that.

Would May be disappointed in him for going out in such terrible weather as Spider-Man? Would she forever be angry at him for dying this way? Because he was pretty sure that’s how this was going to end - he was going to die, strung up by his leg like an animal in a slaughterhouse, but even they were killed with more dignity than he was.

“Less than a minute, Peter,” Karen said, “open your eyes.”

When had he closed them? And why should he open them again? He was so tired, hadn't he held on long enough? Wasn’t this good enough? Why should he force himself to continue on through unbearable agony when he just didn't want to? He wanted to go to sleep.

If only he was at home, in his bed, falling asleep to the sound of May humming to herself as she cooked up an abomination or combed through one of her favourite dog-eared books that she would mumble the words aloud from while she read, a small smile painting her face as she didn't even realise she was doing it.

“Peter…” a small smile danced on Peter’s lips as he gave himself permission to leave his eyes shut, “come on, Underoos, not now! Not today!”

The voice sounded concerned, that was unfortunate, Peter briefly toyed with the idea of reassuring them before he was pulled under the tempting blanket of sleep. It was warm and effortless, and ultimately - pain free…

…

Waking up was not effortless or pain free.

He came around to the steady sound of beeping and the smell of antiseptic burning his sensitive nostrils, although along with that there was something shoved up them with was tickling. He clumsily reached up to try and move it, only to have his hand gently guided back to the bed, by a larger, warm one.

“Gently there,” a rough voice said, so familiar, “May, he’s waking up.”

“Peter?” May. “Oh, honey I was so worried.”

“M’y,” he murmured.

“That’s right, how are you feeling?” she asked him.

“H’rts,” he slurred out, his tongue feeling strange in his mouth, “c’n’t talk right.”

“You’re on some strong opioids kiddo,” the rough voice said again - Mr. Stark, “and they had to put you under to operate on your leg.”

“Th’y stole m’ leg?” Peter asked, eyes finally opening so he could display his shock effectively when his words were failing at sounding anything other than tired.

“No,” Mr. Stark laughed, but he seemed mostly relieved that Peter was waking up and the humour didn't reach his eyes, “no, Kiddo, but you’re going to be benched for quite a while I’m afraid, even with those freaky Spidey powers.”

“Huh, that’s-” he broke off so that he could yawn widely, not making an attempt to cover his mouth, “that’s, yeah.”

Even May laughed that time, “ why don’t you try and get some more sleep?”

“No,” Peter mumbled, despite silently believing that that was a fantastic idea, “w’nna know wha’ happened.”

“Are you sure?” Mr. Stark asked.

Peter nodded his head - the movement was unco-ordinated and jerky but it seemed to get his message across, even if it did make his head spin briefly and nausea swirl in the pit of his stomach.

“You fell while on your way here,” Mr. Stark said slowly, potentially watching for signs of distress so that he could stop if need be, “you fell on some jagged spikes that were coming out the side of the building and they got caught on your leg in three places.”

“You’re lucky the force didn't cause an amputation,” May muttered, Peter was almost certain - judging by her tone - that he wouldn't have survived that.

“By the time I got there you’d lost so much blood, I had to act quickly and cut the metal so I could focus on getting you here.”

“They took you straight into surgery,” May said, taking over, “they promised to do whatever they could but stressed that there was no guarantee you’d keep the leg.”

“But I did,” Peter mumbled.

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark said, “but this isn't over yet, Buddy, you’ve got a long road ahead, you need to let yourself heal, you’re going to need physiotherapy, you may struggle with many things you used to find easy and you will need further operations.”

Peter nodded, not realising that a few tears had escaped.

“We’ll go through it in more detail later, Kid, you should really rest,” Mr. Stark said, “we won’t be going anywhere.”

Peter nodded; he was tired, but just before he slipped back into sleep he mumbled a single question, “will it hurt like this forev’r?”

And the darkness took him once more before he could hear the reply.

Tag List: @joyful-soul-collector @thatavengersbitch @spider-child123 @iron-loyalty @thespydersargon @clover-roseee @spidey-reids-2003

[itsybiggy]

you’re my midnight moon

Part 3/3: does time heal all wounds?

word count: 2323

Thinking about doing a bonus chapter with smut, let me know! Hope you like the fluffy angst!

You starred down at the note. It had been brought here the other day and had it done nothing but haunt you ever since it arrived. It was an invitation to the festival that was taking place in two months. Each district had one in each of the walls and anyone was free to go between them. It would take a while to prepare and all of humanity was helping. But this invitation was from Armin. More of a letter than a formal invitation, but he wanted you to go to the festival with him.

To reconnect, my old friend.

Old friend.

Suppose that was less awkward than old lover. But even then you and Armin had not even been lovers then. Both not having time and being too shy to go that far in your relationship.

Still, this was an opportunity to make amends for your past. For abandoning him. So you wrote back.

Dear old friend...

______

Despite the fact that you lived in the same district as Armin, you had managed to barely see in in the months leading up to the festival. You didn’t exactly do this on purpose, it seemed that your mind was attempting to protect yourself. When you would see him in the market, a bar, just out in town, you conveniently remembered what you had to do at home, go somewhere else. You ignored when you felt his gaze on you. You never engaged with him. You felt like a mole, hiding from the sun itself.

Sasha had come one day, filled with questions. She spared no time opening you up, though if anyone could it would be her. You cried together for your fallen comrades, for the awful memories, and your once lost connection. Your connection that was quickly rekindled after that day. Her kind, but at times brash words had given you the confidence to have this closure with all of your old friends, most of all Armin of course.

Which brings us to the festival

The town square in wall Cana was alive with all spurts of sights and sounds. Hoards of drunk soldiers and civilians alike sung their new bar songs; written about humanity’s victory.

“On the ground were their heads

As our mighty scouts caught them dead

Swinging their swords they cut those bastards down

Some say there were no blades just Levi’s frown

Our mighty scouts they slayed the beasts

So now we feast!

For the Titans are gone let's have some fun!

And humanity has WON!!”

The thick smell of well missed meat filled the whole district. Families had opened their doors with warm, home cooked meals inside. Food stalls were set up, with no charge. It truly felt as if humanity was at peace.

In the midst a group of soldiers in particular, more jovial than most, some say they saw hell more that Levi himself.

“SASHA SLOW THE HELL DOWN!” Connie smacked the back of her neck, effectively shooting the peace of meat she was choking on, out of her throat.

“Ah!” Jean leaped out of the way of the projectile meat “you didn’t even chew it you monster!”

Sasha looked like she was about to cry as Mikasa held on to her, keeping her from picking up the steak from the ground. “I couldn’t help it, I haven’t had cow in so long.”

“So savor it you idiot.” Eren rolled his eyes, Armin chuckled.

You were a few steps away from the group, your slow body separated yourself from the happy group. You didn’t want to rain on their parade. Though, you honestly wanted to join it. You had made up as much as you could with all of them...except Armin. Sasha was the only one who took it well enough. The rest of the group said they would need time to fix your friendships. Which was understandable. So, you just let them be content tonight without having to worry about you.

Armin didn’t seem to get the “Ignore me” memo. Shooting glances at you when he thought you couldn’t see him. It made you uneasy.

It made you scared that old feelings started to bubble up.

Armin Arlert had the uncanny ability to make you feel like a giggling school girl with what seemed to be only a look. Not that you audibly or visibly made any indication that he did so. But it was impossible for you to think of anything else but: <em>if your simple dress looked ok, was your hair a mess in the humidity or was your face just a tomato at that point?</em>

You tried to keep your head on the cobblestone road, as you tried not to meet any of his gazes. But also because you had stupidly discarded your cane. You didn’t need it most of the time, but if you were going to be walking for long periods of time you definitely did. One small miss step would leave you face planted on the ground unable to get up.

“Hey (y/n), come-“ With your eyes glued to the group you didn’t notice Eren being the first one who noticed you trailed behind. And so when he had went to playfully slap your back, ushering you forward it had taken you by compete surprise. So of course your back and legs give way, and you face planted on the stone road.

“(Y/N)!!” They all shouted, they had already turned around when Eren began talking. They rushed to your side, and helped you as you attempted to get up.

Eren looked quiet panicked as Mikasa begun swatting at him to be careful with my weak form. He swore he didn’t know the strength of his hit.

“I’ve got it, I’m fine. It’s ok.” You batted their hands away and attempted to ease Eren. You could feel warm blood as it was trickling from your chin and knees. But you couldn’t get up, only on all fours. Humiliatingly unable to move past this point, tears threaten to leave your eyes. Once again, you stared at the cobblestone in compete defeat. “I....I can’t move anymore...help.”

Strong arms lifted your body from the road. You were unable to even look at who they belonged to but the soft, familiar smell flooded your nostrils.

“I’ve got you.” Armin said, one arm under your bleeding knees, the other held your back and shoulders. “I’ll go get her cleaned up, we’ll meet you guys later.” He said and before You could even protest he walked from them.

Silence....awful, deafening, horrible silence.

It was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking. His face was blank, you could only detect the blush creeping from his neck to the tips of his ears. Quickly after seeing that, your face matched his.

<em>Did you want to talk to me or should I start?</em>

As if he heard your thoughts “Let’s get you clean and then.. we can talk.” His voice was soft and wavering. You could feel his nervousness, it was clearly heard in his voice.

So per his request you both were silent as he set you down at a table, a distance away from anyone. Families and soldiers were still clearly visible, but their singing and celebration muffled in the distance. He left me for only a second to the well nearby. He took a knife to his shirt and tore the bottom. You were glad it wasn’t more than a normal day shirt. But it still had made you feel guilty. Flowey and light blue, it was still a nice shirt despite its simplicity. He dipped a part of the shirt into the bucket which he had drawn and returned to you. The wind whipping his shortened shirt revealing his very muscular torso. You quickly averted your eyes.

He knelt down and lightly wiped the dried blood from your legs before dabbing the wound. Subconsciously your leg twitched, causing him to come down a bit to hard. A sting shot through the wound which caused you to wince.

“Sorry!” He quickly lifted his hand, panic in his eyes “I was trying to be gentle.”

“You were! Don’t be sorry...maybe if you held my leg in place it would help.” looking into his blue eyes, you desperately tried to imprint them once again into your mind. He looked away soon after the offer, embarrassed.

Still, red in the face he nodded. He placed his left hand on your calf, his finders gripping softly onto your soft skin. His right hand resumed cleaning the bloody scrape. “Does that feel better?” He asked, eyes fixed on your leg.

“I uh, still think they are shaking.” You took his hand and placed it in the back of your thigh. He lifted your dress so he had better access to your knee. “There I’m still.”

Except now it was Armins hands who were shaking. He finished one side before moving to the next. You easily noted how his hand was significantly higher on this leg than the other.

“All clean, you should wrap them when you get home though. here let me help you down.” He held out his hand, but you were not ready to let this tender interaction end.

You pointed to your chin, which still had some blood on it. “Uh could you get this too.”

He gulped and nodded. You scooted forward on the table and spread your legs so he could come close enough to reach your face. He stepped in between them and lifted his hand to cup your face steady, like your leg, to softly clean your face. Your eyes stared at the table, but his seemed to be going from your cut to your eyes. You could feel with certainty when his blue eyes looked into yours. You continued to stare down, but now because you could not meet his with yours so filled with tears.

Here he was, perfect and soft. Caring for you so tenderly, as if you hadn’t completely broken his heart. Left without an trace, an explanation. You didn’t deserve his kindness.

“All..um done.” He stepped away from you, held out his hand to support you.

“Thank you Armin. You took it and stepped down carefully. When your feet hit the cold stone you continued to look at it while you stood there. Finally , unable to contain your self, you looked up fully sobbing now.

“Armin I’m..” your face went in your hands as your trembled “I’m so sorry. I should have ne-“

He interrupted you before you could continue.

“There is one thing I’ve always regretted. Not telling you how the world can be so beautiful, but I was so lucky to have something, someone beside me who was more beautiful than a sunset creeping over the mountains, or a meadow wildflowers, the star filled night sky or even the ocean. And that was you, is you.” You looked up to meet his love filled gaze, completely star struck at the words that came out of his mouth. The world seemed to slow as he continued.

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t fight harder to keep you by my side. I just, I wanted to ask why you stopped loving me, and plead for you to stay but I just let you go.” He looked to the ground, seemingly ashamed for what you thought as innocence, it was you who was to blame.

You stepped into his arms, clinging to him for support. Your legs were weak now, but you also needed him to hold you. His arms had the gift to make all your worries disappeared. “Armin, I-. It’s not your fault. It was me. After we became scouts and then we were separated, my entire force was wiped out. My friends all gone. I was struck with the realization that life for us so fleeting. And it hurt so bad to see them go, I couldn’t and didn’t even want to imagine seeing you die. And I didn’t want you to hurt if I ever did.” He held your shaking, sobbing body as you struggled to continue.

“I pushed everyone away including you, only to save myself from having to lose you. And I still did. It hurt me so much and every day I regret it. I’m so sorry Armin. But seeing you again, I- I can’t leave you again. I still love you I never stopped. It was too late when I realized that life is fleeting so it is important to find something you live and hold onto it rather than push it away.”

“Armin Arlert I love you”

Calloused hands lifted your face to his, strong arms lifted you from the ground, soft lips kissed yours. You could taste his salty tears, they mixed with your own. You could feel his love, his hurt, and his relief.

You grabbed onto his silky hair, arms wrapped around his neck. He held your body close to his. You wanted to feel him, closer, connected. Your tongue slid across his lips. He eagerly tilted his head and opened his mouth to yours, now you could taste him. His lips were so soft, so tender parted from you to look at your face. A smile spread across his.

“(Y/n) (l/n) dance with me, we don’t need any music, just you and me. Come on.” Tears rolled down your faces as he recited the words you had so many years ago.

And as if on que your little world opened up as you begun to hear the tune of the festival music. He carried you closer to the music, but just far enough away where you both could stay in your own world.

He set you down, placing your feet on top of his as you both swayed with the music. You stayed like this, dancing, lips parted for a millisecond only to connect again. This tender moment you shared will not easily if not ever be forgotten.

Yaaay all done! Repost, like, send some love if you enjoyed! We need more Armin content!!!

[saintqueer]

On Being 13

by saintqueer

Date Written: July 2019

CW: brief mention of an eating disorder

I will be posting a series of old creative nonfiction essays I wrote in 2019-20 every Friday and tagging them #a saintqueer original. Some might be a little outdated but I'm getting my feet wet in the experience of sharing my own writing again. Hope you enjoy! My inbox is always open.

Your name is Jordan. It is 2006 and you just turned 13. You are officially a teenager. Not a preteen. Nor god-forbid a tween. You’re in eighth grade at middle school in the Bay Area suburbs and you just got your first cell phone. It’s a silver LG flip phone without a camera. Modern social media has been born but is not yet widespread. Myspace and AIM are still the name of the game. And your friend’s Top 8s are literally worth crying over. You buy songs you like on iTunes for 99 cents. Songs like Far Away by Nickelback and Jesus, Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood. That is, until you wizen up and start using LimeWire in 2007. By that time, you’ll think your tastes much improved. You’ll illegally download songs like Buy U a Drank by T-Pain, Wait For You by Elliott Yamin, and everything Chris Brown puts out. Every single feeling you have is so large it’s like it has the potential to kill you. Weird shit is happening to your body. You started puberty early but it shows absolutely no sign of stopping. Things just seem to be getting weirder and more emotional. You cut your own side bangs and they look hella cool.

Ok, let’s pause there. I’m gonna go ahead and break the fourth wall here. Reader, I was planning on doing this entire piece as a kind of immersive second person experience. But. I. Just. Can’t. It’s too hard and writing about being 13 is difficult enough. I think that intro was enough to get you in the right head space of Jordan circa 2006-2007.

Over the last year, there has been more truthful explorations of the adolescent experience in media than ever before. With shows like Pen15 and Big Mouth and films like Eighth Grade, I feel like for the first time I’m starting to come to terms with my own adolescence. Being 13 is really fucking hard. And 13-year-olds get such a bad rap when, honestly, they’re just trying to do the best they can with all the shit they’ve been thrown.

I first felt compelled to write this piece when reading a section of a book from my favorite podcaster, Karen Kilgariff. Karen describes a lecture series she went to in which one of the presenters made a case in defense of 13 year olds. Karen writes that being 13 “is the hardest age you ever have to be because of all the chemicals and hormones constantly raging through your body. It’s like you’re being drugged and then woken up with speed on a daily basis. All social structure implodes and resets itself in a totally unfamiliar way. You’re simultaneously the oldest version of a child and the youngest version of an adult, so you don’t belong anywhere. You don’t get babied, and you don’t get respect.” Basically, it fucking sucks!!!

At 13, my eating disorder was already in full swing and my body-dysmorphia-riddled brain had no shortage of reasons for why my life would be so much better if I weighed 25 pounds less. They would weigh us in gym class, one by one, and assign us our BMI classification (mine was “overweight”). I was constantly dieting, with resounding approval from family and peers; starving my growing body of whole food groups and then binging. My school used to sell these pizza hot pocket things in plastic wrapping called pizza sticks (they were so DELICIOUS). One time, I found an unopened and still-warm pizza stick on the floor next to a garbage can. Wildly hungry from my meager carb-less lunch I picked it up off the floor and shoved it into my mouth, facing the wall, in as few bites as possible so no one would see. OFF THE FLOOR…OUTSIDE. I think it was on a pile of leaves and other trash (though unopened, it was slightly flattened on one side so it might have been stepped on?). This is actually the first time I’ve told anyone that I did that. Blogging is fun.

I was truly beginning to understand that my body was a commodity in society. I couldn’t take up space as a girl and to be beautiful was to be frail. My body was a sexual thing but I was not allowed to be a sexual being. Boys were the horny ones, not girls. But boy, was I! The thing was I couldn’t tell anyone, only the bathtub faucet could know. This was heightened all the more by my church and my faith. Youth group taught me the importance of dressing modestly and how we had to do everything within our power to help easily tempted boys remain sexually pure. I had so much shame that I had any kind of sexuality at all.

A majority of us wanted to fit in when we were 13. And I wanted it desperately. It’s not necessarily that I wanted to be cool, it’s more like I just wanted to belong. I wanted to have best friends. I wanted boys to have crushes on me. I wanted to be wanted. And it never happened for me. I didn’t develop deep lasting friendships until my late teens. I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 21, for god’s sake. My friends at 13 were changeable and excluding. I felt like I was constantly vying for their approval and as I entered high school in 2007, my social life became the center of my world.

Admittedly, high school felt much more enjoyable than middle school. I had established my place in the cool crowd and shirked academics. I stopped listening to Christian Rock and started listening to Lil Wayne and learning how to twerk. I cut class with a friend to straighten my hair with my hot pink straightener in Starbucks. I got in trouble with the cops for underage drinking. I got better at actually starving myself for a few days at a time instead of just dieting. I was significantly better at swearing. However, every single thing still felt like the biggest deal ever and it felt like it would always be that way.

Now, over a dozen years later, I hardly ever think about how it felt to be 13. I always forget that I “fell in love” with a boy named Alex at church summer camp who I saw from afar five times and talked to once for two minutes. It’s hard to believe now that I wrote his name in sharpie on my converse sneakers and sang I Drive Myself Crazy by *Nsync while crying and staring directly back at myself in the mirror.

This might seem unforgiving but I feel like the one redeemable thing about being 13 is that it doesn’t last forever. It ends. You grow and you change and you work through your trauma. If you’re lucky, you get better friends and you go to therapy and do some healing over ten years later by watching tv shows and movies that remind you of every painful feeling. Then you look back and laugh. You laugh at that school dance where Peter said he’d never, ever slow dance with you. You laugh at the school dance less than a year later where you grind provocatively on a dude you don’t know to Get Low by Lil Jon and the Ying Yang Twins. You laugh (hysterically, I might add) at eating that pizza stick off the floor. You laugh at smoking weed for the first time using a plastic water bottle your friend somehow turned into a shitty bong. You laugh at shoplifting your first thong from Ross. You laugh at your self-cut side bangs. You laugh and you laugh and you laugh and then you, finally, move on.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, Angst.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: This was painful to write. If you don’t do well with angst, I recommend skipping this chapter. BUT - there is a happy ending!

Chapter 30

  “Ah, there you are. We’ve been waiting. Now, before you try anything, I have fail-safes in place in case you try and stop me, and they all end in tragedy. Like this nasty little explosive underneath their chairs, for instance.”

  You stood frozen to the spot, trembling with fear, and not an inkling of it for yourself.

  “Don’t… Don’t do this.”

  “Not to worry, my sweet. With the help of your data, I’ve been able to streamline the process. Theoretically, I should be able to directly transfer powered cells from Marcus into his daughter. The familial DNA should help alleviate any foreign-cell attacks. Though, I’m afraid it will still be painful.”

  “My data? Someone’s been feeding you my medical information?”

  “Oh, yes. I don’t think you realise just how many people in this world are interested in levelling the playing-field. I mean, how’d you think I got out of prison?”

  While he spoke, he made the final calculations to start his experiment, and as the machines started whirring and clicking, your fear escalated into full-blown panic.   They were both unconscious, for the time being, but you knew that once the pain started, they’d be forced awake. You didn’t actually remember that from your own experience with this experiment, but you still knew that it was true.   You sneaked a ghost hand towards one of the machines and unhooked a tube that was connected to Missy’s arm, at the other end, trying to buy time.   The machine started beeping to indicate that something was wrong.

  “Now, now, sweetie. Don’t go sabotaging this, or your precious family might not come out of it quite as alright as both of us would like.”

  As he walked over to reconnect the tube, he tapped on something on his belt, and you recognised an identical device to what the Inventor had used to protect himself against powers. Someone in HQ had betrayed you all, and the feeling burned through you with an aftertaste of hate.

  “My family are not your fucking toys!”

  The room shook significantly, and he looked around with real wonder in his eyes.

  “That’s impressive. See, didn’t I give you a wonderful gift?”

  “No. I would’ve preferred to stay ordinary and dull for the rest of my life if it had meant not having to live through that shit.”

  “Do you really expect me to believe that? Look at where you are. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t taken you. You should be more grateful.”

  “I do see where I am, and I would rather have never met them at all, if it meant they were spared from this.”

  “People are inherently selfish, which is why I don’t believe you. Now, let’s get started. And a word of warning, my dear – if you disrupt the process once it’s already started, you’ll kill them both. And I doubt if you could bring both of them back from the dead without killing yourself.”

  He hit a button on the computer keypad, and the Machine connected to Marcus came alive, and started siphoning out powered cells from his blood-stream.   He woke up after just a few seconds, unable to move at all, and you could see the pain in his eyes.   Helpless to do anything else, you reached out to him with your ghost energy, trying to let him know that you were there and that you were trying to save him. You could feel him trying to use his powers, but the machine disrupted it, and caused him even more pain.

  “Please, stop!”

  The second machine, the one connected to Missy, started whirring and moving, and your blood instantly flipped from freezing to boiling.   You couldn’t stand the thought of her even knowing this amount of pain, much less being forced to suffer it, for god knows how long.   And as she woke up, and that pain became visible in her eyes, something old and sure and endlessly powerful took over your mind.   There wasn’t a single thought, not so much as an echo of anything rational or logical or sensible. The maternal instinct was all-powerful in a way that nothing else could compare to. And the power it created together with your abilities, was beyond belief.   The house disappeared, and so did Dr. Prince and all of his equipment, and you could feel the moment that both Marcus and Missy’s hearts stopped beating.   But it didn’t frighten you, because you were a healer.   Moving up to crouch in between them, where they now laid on the bare ground, you took one of their hands in each one of yours, and exchanged your life for theirs.   You had hoped to be able to stay alive long enough to see their faces one last time, but the energy required to heal them, combined with what you’d already spent, was too much, and you needed the single grain you had left, for one last thing. One small, but so very important thing.   You fell away without seeing anything but the blue sky above you.

  It was okay, though. They were worth it.

 ***

  Marcus was working in his office when Missy came to find him. It had been a long day, and he was so tired he could have fallen asleep sitting up.   But he knew that even if he were to lay down in a soft and cool bed right then, he still wouldn’t have succumbed to that blissful nothingness.   He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours at a time, since the incident, and he was long past exhausted.

  “Dad, are you coming?”

  She came to get him every day after school. She had for the past month, and he didn’t have the heart to ask her not to.

  “Yeah. I’ll be right there, sweetheart.”

  She turned and headed off to medical, and he got up to follow her. A part of him wanted to turn around and run in the opposite direction. A part of him wanted to never have to set foot in that fucking room again.   But that was just the fear. The love was so much stronger, and it relentlessly dragged him back there, day and night, no matter how badly it hurt.

  Missy was already hopped up on the bed, sitting cross-legged by your feet, when he walked in. She was so hopeful still. So positive. All Marcus could feel was pain.   Every time he saw you, he saw those moments. Those short, few seconds that had taken everything away.   He’d seen it in your eyes just before your power erupted. The complete lack of thought as your mind reverted to pure instinct, to protect your daughter. His daughter.   He’d seen how you’d dispatched the entire house, and everything that threatened your family, into one of the dimensions that you had access to, a feat that had almost completely drained you.   Then, he’d woken up to seeing you fall, and in his heart, he’d known that you couldn’t be saved. Not this time. But he’d still tried. He’d tried so hard that Missy had eventually been forced to be the one to beg him to stop before she lost him too.   He’d never screamed so loud for so long before.   And yet, somehow, that still hadn’t been the worst part.   That had come the next morning, when medical had informed him that you’d been examined that day because of nausea, and that they’d discovered that you were pregnant. The timeframe had matched that day in his office, when your bodies had reacted so differently, and you’d cried out of pure love for him.   It had broken parts of him that he had never even known before.

  He walked silently to your side, and took your burned right hand between his. He tried not to look at your face, and the tube that disappeared down your throat, the slight blue tinge to your eyelids, and the way your skin hugged your collarbones.   When the team had reached the disappeared house, they’d wasted no time in getting the three of you back to HQ, and you’d been rushed here immediately. They’d found residual brain-activity, and the decision had been made to keep you alive artificially, in case your powers had somehow been able to protect you. In case you could have found a way to cling to some thread of life and hold on until your strength could be returned.   There had been no change in your condition since that day, and if it hadn’t been for Missy, he would’ve already asked them to just let you rest in peace.

  “Hey, alma. We’re here. So, today’s story comes from Noodles. He managed to get out-witted by a squirrel, and it is too funny not to share.”

  She told you one story every day. Something that had happened during her day that she knew you would’ve wanted to hear about, and would’ve listened animatedly to, before enthusiastically sharing your thoughts about it.   Marcus didn’t hear the stories. He came and sat with her while she talked, because that’s what she’d asked him to do, but for him, being there wasn’t about hope. It was about survival. He didn’t want to hope, didn’t want to give himself that potentially crushing second wave of loss. But he also needed to see you. He needed you, and no amount of pain could crush that feeling.   Since they didn’t have a home anymore, they were living at HQ during the weeks, because it was closer to Missy’s school than Anita’s house. But they still stayed with her over the weekends.   Marcus made Missy dinner every evening, and sat with her to help her with homework or watch some show before she went to sleep, trying to keep her life as close to normal as these circumstances would permit.   But as soon as she fell asleep, he came right back here, curled up next to you on the bed and cried until there were no more tears, and sleep forced itself over him.

  This night was no exception. He walked in on legs that were impossibly heavy, refusing to look at the machines and the tubes, focusing on your hands and the parts of your skin that were bare and unbroken by needles.   It was so strange that your body was unharmed, that there wasn’t a mark on you to signify the violence and destructive nature of that incident. You were still perfect, even in death.   Wrapping one arm over your chest, careful not to disturb the breathing apparatus, he took his usual place on your left side, burrowed his face into your neck and breathed in the familiar scent of your shampoo.   He was so tired that the tears fell without the laboured breathing, or shockwaves of grief rocking his body, the way it usually did. He just laid there, completely drained of will and hope and desire, waiting for the restless, nightmarish sleep that would inevitably drag him under.   A sudden incessive beeping of one of the machines, tried to gripe at his attention. He closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into your neck, certain that if he turned his head towards it, all it would tell him would be that the time had come. That your body had finally weakened to the point where not even artificially sustained organs was enough to keep you there.   He hadn’t wanted to hope, and he’d thought that he didn’t have any left, but as he laid there and waited for the machines to declare your final departure – he realised that he had. A small part of him had clung to some imagined scenario where you could’ve somehow clawed your way back, and now that part was dying with you.   It felt as though someone had shrunk his lungs. He struggled to draw in more than tiny gulps of air, and his arm involuntarily tightened around you, pulling you into his chest, as though your lifeless body could somehow free him.

  A hand found his arm, and held it lightly, but he didn’t look up to see who it was that was trying to soothe him. He didn’t want to be soothed, he wanted to drift off into the nothingness with you.   But then the doors to the room opened, and he could hear it. So, why hadn’t he heard the person that was holding his arm, when they entered?

  “Oh, my god… Marcus, look.”

  It was one of the twins, and the tone of her voice made something inside of him wake up.   He pulled his head away from your neck, and the first thing he saw was your hand, holding his arm. The touch was light because it was weak, not soothing.   Not daring to believe it, he moved his arm, so he could take your hand, and when you squeezed it, ever so faintly, he fell apart.   He sobbed and hugged you, and tried to tell you how much he loved you and how grateful he was, but the shudders and trembles that kept coursing through him made it all garbled up and unintelligible.   He never heard the twins working around you, never felt them change the equipment, after they’d removed the breathing machine, and made sure that you could breathe on your own, before pulling the tubes out of your throat.   He didn’t notice Anita and Missy walk in, however much time later, but he felt them hug him, and he wanted to thank them, to tell them how much he loved them too, but the relief was so overwhelming that all he could manage was grunts and sobs.

  They let him cry himself into absolute exhaustion. He was so tired that it didn’t take long. He fell asleep still cradling you to his chest, and they didn’t have the heart to lift him out of the bed.

***

  A couple of days later, Marcus was sitting on the side of your bed, just staring at you while you ate.   You had to eat carefully and slowly, since your throat was still sore from the tube, but you were already strong enough to sit up in the bed, and eat by yourself.   You’d been expressly forbidden from trying to speak, until your throat was less swollen and irritated, or you might permanently damage your vocal cords. But it didn’t bother you. You and Marcus knew each other so well that your eyes and expressions were enough to let you know what the other was thinking. And Missy was enjoying getting the opportunity to blab incessantly without you being able to stop her with a well-placed quip.   You knew that big conversations would have to be had, in the near future, and while you could feel how nervous and anxious Marcus was about that, you really weren’t. There were things you needed to tell him, things you needed to try and help him understand, but none of it was bad. Not from your perspective, at least.

  You finished eating, and took a few long and slow sips of water. You could tell that there was something on Marcus’ mind, and when you put the glass down, you shot him a look to say ‘tell me’, and he sighed.

  “It’s not… I don’t wanna talk about it until you can actually talk to me.”

  You just kept giving him the same look, crossing your arms in front of your chest to let him know that you weren’t leaving the subject alone any time soon. Whatever this was, it was causing the wrinkle in between his eyebrows to deepen, a clear sign that it was something that hurt him, and he’d been hurting for so long already, it was time for him to start getting some of it out.   He saw your persistence, and he knew you weren’t gonna let it go. His eyes dropped to his own hands in his lap, and he took a minute to consider how to phrase it.

  “They told me… about the… baby.”

  His eyes were still downcast, so he didn’t see your face soften, or your eyes turn warm. But you wanted him to keep talking, so you made no effort to get his attention yet.

  “And I know that you did what you did to save us, and that you couldn’t have made it a priority right then, and I don’t blame you for doing what you had to. I just can’t help but think… what if that was it?”

  His hands were trembling slightly, but you couldn’t tell if it was with sadness or fear. His voice seemed so small.

  “What if that was our only chance? I’ve never felt the kind of… loss… that I felt when they told me that. The loss of what could have been, of the possibility. And I just…”

  He took a deep breath.

  “I had no idea how much I wanted that baby, until it was already gone.”

  He finally looked up at you, and blinked a couple of times with confusion as he took in your expression. Because you weren’t sad. You were smiling.   You picked up the notepad Amaire had left you for answering medical questions, and scribbled down the few words required to explain yourself, before turning it around to show him.

  --The baby is safe—

  You watched his eyes as he read those words, staring at them for several seconds as though he couldn’t understand them. And then his eyes snapped back to yours and there were a million questions in them, but he had no idea where to start or probably even what most of those questions were yet.   So, he just kissed you instead, and the depth of emotion that he poured into that kiss, had you both in tears.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

[sadachmesarthim]

peter learns to shut the fuck up challenge

oh my god hi okay i’m (kind of) freshly back to tumblr and haven’t written content like this in over half a decade please be nice to me i am a broken 21 year old who can’t take criticism for shit

marvel cinematic universe: peter!centric, eventually starker 

content: graphic depictions of violence, extremis!flash, selective mutism, brief talks of dying but it’s not that bad tbh, slightly aged up peter (he’s 18), use of slurs and derogatory terms, both in reference to self and someone else

summary: peter’s taken enough shit in his life. he lost his parents, he lost ben, he’s dealt with the number of shitty men may brought home - flash was like the cherry on top of the shit sundae. after a particularly bad day of taunting, peter is fed up, and decides to teach flash a lesson - but our baby boy is in for a big surprise when he discovers he isn’t the only freak kid at midtown tech. 

............................................................................................................................

Peter'd been categorized as a loudmouth for years - by May, his friends at school, the Avengers he fought (and fought beside) in Berlin.

Never able to stop his nervous ramblings, his mouth tended to run away with him. He somehow never developed a filter, often getting himself into quite a bit of trouble. Usually his pretty face and quick thinking kept him from any real repercussions.

But there was one such instance he... couldn’t exactly get out of.

He'd been struggling with Flash's bullying for years. He'd called Peter names, hurled slurs, spat out indecencies - normally, Peter could take it. But after the bite... they all landed so much harder.

Peter didn't understand it - spiders didn't have emotions, did they?? Even if they did, that doesn't explain why he's so sensitive. If anything, you'd think the bite would make him aggressive, or argumentative, or angry - spiders were predators, not pussies. What was his problem?

He'd finally had enough one day at the end of his senior year. Flash was being particularly snide - excitement from graduation pushing his normal antics into overdrive.

"Oh come on, Penis. You gonna fight back one of these days or are you just gonna keep hanging your sad faggot head around town?" Flash followed him out of the school building, laughing at his own "joke".

What he wasn't prepared for was an actual answer to his question.

"Yeah, actually. I will."

Peter turned around, grabbing Flash by the straps of his backpack. He glanced around, checking for spectators, before shoving his bully into a secluded alley just ahead of them.

Flash, surprised (but not entirely put off), worked himself free of the backpack and slid behind the smaller boy. Sure, Peter was enhanced, but Flash still had a good head on him height wise.

"Finally decide to manhandle me back, huh Parker? That's so cute." Flash smirked, looking him up and down as he crowded Peter into the corner. "If you're feeling so big and brave, go ahead."

Peter looked up, confusion warping his soft features. Flash... wanted Peter to hit him? Why?

Before he could actually ask, he found himself collapsing on the ground, gasping for air. Flash drew his fist back, shaking off the punch he'd just thrown into Peter's side. He snatched his bag off the ground, tossing it away from Peter & beside a nearby dumpster.

"Christ, you look so pathetic down there! I almost forgot how small you were for a second," he laughed, taking a second to gloat. "Come on, Parker. What happened to finally fighting back?"

Peter'd always been a bit overzealous - I mean, c’mon, the kid grew up listening to stories about Steve Rogers for fucks sake, how could he not develop an underdog complex? He'd spent his childhood defending his family name, his teens protecting May from overzealous asshole boyfriends, and the most recent few watching over all of Queens.

So yeah, of course Peter was going to take this opportunity to kick some ass if he could.

He struggled to his feet and stumbled forward, regaining his balance and breath as he met Flash's eyes. The tiny success was short lived, though, as he felt himself flying backward and up into the brick wall behind him. What the actual fuck?

Peter's senses never failed him - and yet, they just had, twice in the last five minutes! What the fuck? How was Flash able to hit him without warning? How was Flash able to throw him?

The confusion must've been all over his face - Flash laughed as Peter crumpled & didn't attempt to get up again. He crowded into Peter's space, getting close to the little spider's ear.

"You really think you're the only special one in Queens, don't you Penis? You think you're the only one that can break a grown man in half?" Peter groaned, wincing at the pain behind his eyes. "Newsflash, freak. You're not special, you're not important, and you're not leaving this alley alive."

It was then, as Peter glanced back up, that Flash's eyes were glowing a sick green-grey unlike anything he'd ever seem. The senses that'd previously failed him so tragically now did a full 180, sending a wave of cortisol through his system. The need to runclimbswingescapego washed over him, the spider inside completely overriding the human.

As if he'd read Peter's mind, Flash quickly grabbed him by the throat, cutting off both his airway and any potential escape route. He squeezed hard, dragging Peter up the wall until they could look each other in the eye. He crowded closer, setting Peter's skin on fire in the worst way possible.

Peter was choking, clawing at the hand on his throat and trying to kick the monster in front of him away. Flash, annoyed, tightened his grip until Peter's hands dropped and his face turned purple.

Flash chuckled, dropping a now barely conscious Peter into a puddle on the rocky ground. He opted to trade his hands for the steel toed boots he'd so carefully laced up that morning, lips curling as the idea took shape in his head.

The first kicks landed on Peter's stomach, forcing air and blood from his mouth. The next were more stomps than anything, not aimed with any thought or finesse. Each landed heavier than the first, quickly pushing Peter toward a complete blackout. The spider was still screaming, but Peter couldn't do jack shit about it.

He lay back, resigned to his fate. I'm going to die here, he thought, desperately wishing he'd just kept his fucking mouth shut. A little bit of bullying was so much better than dying a week before graduation.

But, somehow, he didn't. Sure, Flash beat him all to shit - May had the hospital bill and the new grey hairs to prove it. But Peter lived.

It took Flash a while to get it all out of his system. The more pain he inflicted, the brighter his eyes got, slowly taking over any illusion of empathy his once brown irises had. He did, eventually, tire, and grow bored of kicking the same stunned spider. When he’d had his fill, he reached down for his backpack, hooking it onto his shoulder and smiling to himself.  

Before leaving, though, he turned back to Peter, crouching down and settling mere inches from his face. 

“Looks like I got Peter Parker to finally shut the fuck up.” Flash looked down at him as he rose, spitting on Peter’s face as a last hurrah before ditching him and the alley completely. 

Peter crawled his way out of the alley after Flash left, blood soaking his shirt and face so swollen he was nearly unrecognizable. He dragged himself to the nearest shop, the kind (and very distraught) owner calling an ambulance the second she'd seen him.

............................................................................................................................

6 weeks later he was back to 100%, diploma in hand, ready to get the fuck out of Queens and up to Cambridge. He'd spent enough time being coddled, people hovering over him and tending to wounds he knew would take care of themselves. These took significantly longer, the extent of the damage worse than anyone thought - but he still healed, and was ready to stretch all eight of his metaphorical legs and get back to school.

The only problem? He couldn't speak.

Okay okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic - his vocal cords and tongue and everything still worked perfectly fine. But every time Peter opened his mouth, words failed him.

It was like Flash's hand was back around his throat, forcing air out of him and the words back inside. How the fuck was he supposed to go to school if he was effectively mute? Peter’d learned Italian in school, not ASL (a choice he was quickly regretting), but even if he had, he wasn't sure his hands would be willing to speak for him either. All forms of effective communication were stolen from him. 

He had less than a month before he was supposed to be in the MIT dorms and starting class. 90% of his prereqs required group discussion and verbal participation, so Peter was well and truly fucked if he couldn't figure this out.

Besides, what superhero couldn't talk? How lame was that? Half of his whole schtick was sassy one-liners. At this point, Spiderman was becoming synonymous with snark!

His first night back in May's apartment, he cried himself to sleep thinking about it. This sudden feeling - all grief and loss and shattered expectations he didn't even know he had... his whole world was suddenly gone, and he didn't know what the fuck to do. 

The worst part?

He didn't even have the words to ask for help.

[primasveraas-writing]

Finnpoe Modern AU- Single Dad!Poe- PART 3

AHH here it is!! I’m really happy with how it turned out; thank you again to the darling Eliane who sparked the orginal idea. The brunt of the story is done, but I hope (and suspect) that I will be returning to this AU soon, in the form of more headcanons or one shots.

I hope you enjoy! All requests are currently open.

Part One l Part Two l Part Three

XXX

Poe buys Finn a drink

...then Finn buys Poe a drink, then Poe buys them both drinks because Finn is on a teacher’s salary and the only gay bar within a reasonable distance gets away with overpriced beer

Poe learns rather quickly that Finn is more than just an incredibly attractive teacher who’s good with his son- Finn is also shy, and humble. Kind and honest. Slightly giggly when tipsy and rather close in proximity after 3 beers

There comes a point when Poe’s chest aches from laughing and he almost puts his hand on Finn’s knee- he almost leans in- then he remembers himself

Buying his son’s teacher a beer is fine- he likes Finn and so does BB

Kissing his son’s teacher is an entirely separate matter

Poe clears his throat abruptly, and he can feel the heat rushing to his already-warm cheeks as he straightens, pulling away from the other man

Finn pulls back too, a split second of hurt flashing across his face

“I’m sorry,” Poe says thickly, wondering how quickly he can flee the scene without seeming like a total ass, and Finn shakes his head

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn says, unable to fully meet Poe’s eyes. “I should probably get back to Rey, anyways”

Finn stands, and Poe blurts out “it was good to talk with you-” before he can think any of it through

Finn stops, turning back to look at him. He smiles, briefly, then says: “it was”

Poe is still sitting at the bar when Rey and Finn leave

Poe pretends he’s not watching them go

The upside to the next day is that his hangover is very mild, and that BB waits until 7am to wake him up instead of jumping into Poe’s bed at his usual 6am

Small blessings, even on a Saturday

They have a good day, and Poe is able to bury all his worries and regrets about Finn until BB does his homework

(he has to color in a hand turkey and he and Poe are both covered in glitter and ink by the end of it)

But the craft is enough for BB to start talking about school, which he does, pieces of glitter falling to the floor one by one as he signs

We do lots of art in Luke’s class and Finn helps me. He is nice and he brings in candy sometimes. He never rushes me or worries like Mr. C does and he is learning ASL very fast and sometimes he lets us stay out for recess for an extra three minutes and he will push us on the tire swing-

So Poe adds to his list of the way he can describe Finn- adored by his son. Generous. A total sucker for cute kids. Endlessly patient, a quick learner, a sweet tooth… off-limits.

What does he know about Finn, from a few hours of talking and stories from his son? Is it enough to justify his pining?

It doesn’t matter, in the end. At best, he and Finn are friends, and Poe has only BB’s best interests in mind- everything else is secondary to his son

The guilt and ache fade, for the most part. He sees Finn here and there, and the two men keep it friendly and brief

At parent-teacher conferences, Finn barely looks at Poe

It stings in the fall, but even that wound has healed when spring comes. Finn is still removed, a little less open, but he manages a small smile when Poe catches his gaze during the last conference that year

Summer arrives, and Poe has almost stopped dreaming of kissing Finn entirely

There’s a small celebration to celebrate the end of the school year, hosted by one of the PTA moms

BB takes off with some of the kids immediately, leaving Poe to his own devices

He’s half-heartedly participating in a discussion about gluten-free sugar cookies with some of the parents while watching BB chase his friends around the yard

He feels a light touch on his arm and turns to see Finn standing there, smiling

“I wanted to tell you what a delight it was to teach BB this year,” Finn says, “and that I’m sorry I won’t have longer with him.”

Poe starts, brow furrowing in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I’m teaching preschool next year,” Finn says, looking down at his feet before glancing up at Poe again. “I originally applied to work with younger kids, but they didn’t have an opening until next fall.”

“So you’re not teaching BB anymore?” Finn shakes his head. “He’ll be devastated.”

Finn frowns, sadness filling his eyes, but Poe nudges him with his elbow, grinning softly

“I’m happy for you Finn, really. BB loved working with you.”

“I loved it too.” Finn is quiet, serious, and his voice falters before Finn goes silent. He blinks rapidly, and Poe realizes just how much Finn cares about his students

“We’ll have to have you over for dinner. To thank you.”

Finn’s eyes widen, wetness replaced with a brilliant spark. His mouth opens, then there’s the unmistakable sound of children colliding, a solid thud followed by squeals, giggles, and shouts

Poe sighs, looking around for BB, despite knowing in his heart of hearts that BB is almost always involved in whatever shenanigans are happening

“I should go.” Poe rests his hand on Finn’s arm. “We’ll work out a date later,” he says, winking before he turns around to chase after his son

When the time comes, BB is excited as Poe is nervous- he insists on helping with the cooking, which slows things significantly, if only because Poe has to sign each recipe and he runs circles around the small kitchen hovering over his son

BB has little regard for things like measurements or cation around a hot stove- about halfway through cooking the pasta needed for an old family recipe, BB tries to grab a noodle out of the boiling pot

Poe pulls his hand back just in time, rambling warnings and curses in Spanish and signing his worries and reliefs rapidly in ASL

BB stares up at him innocently, and Poe melts

He also puts his son on his back, so Poe finishes the cooking with a seven-year-old pointing where to go and what to do

They both have to squeeze in a shower before Finn arrives, as they’re each covered in sweat and sauce and flour

(Poe finds a bit of salsa behind BB’s ear as he towels his son off, and he sighs)

Poe is dressing when the door rings. First, he hears BB tearing down the hall, his feet thundering, then the door opening- Poe follows his son, finishing the last buttons on his shirt, then Finn is in his living room, BB tugging on his hand to bring Finn into the apartment

“Hi,” Finn says, kneeling down to hug BB

“Hi,” Poe says, and his heart flutters like it did a year ago, when he saw Finn for the very first time

It progresses from there because BB loves Finn, and Poe believes in love at first sight, even if he can’t admit it yet

(He loves Finn too)

Dinners with Luke, Leia, and Finn resume, in addition to meals whenever BB demands that Finn eat with them

(It’s been too long, Dad, BB will say. You and Finn are lonely without each other)

Poe doesn’t know how much he can disagree with his son, partly because BB is largely right, and partly because BB has Poe wrapped around his finger

Even so, it’s nearly a month before Poe asks Finn out properly, with no children or bosses to accompany them

Finn accepts in an instant

Dating Finn is nice- for one, he fits into Poe’s life easily- but he also validates the months Poe spent dreaming of the impossible scenario where he and Finn could finally be together, because dating Finn is better than Poe ever imagined

Finn is funny, more sarcastic than Poe had realized, direct and curious and teasing. Deeply loving and loyal and defensive and stubborn, and also a good kisser, with perpetually warm hands that always find their way into Poe’s grip

That summer is glorious, and none of them- Poe, nor BB, nor Finn- want it to end. It is the beginning of all wonderful things

Poe accepts quickly but with relative uncertainty, that Finn will be Poe’s boyfriend long before he will become one of BB’s caretakers

Finn is good with BB- he speaks ASL and understands his son better than most, and Poe is forever grateful he never had to navigate a wide dating pool as a single father, mostly because he’s certain there’s very, very few people worth bringing home to BB

Even with adjustment periods and the time it takes to figure out how exactly Finn fits into their lives, BB is wildly fond of Finn, who spoils him and makes him laugh

You smile lots when Finn is around BB says one day

Is that good? Poe signs back. Do you like when Finn is around?

Finn makes me happy BB says, and Poe knows that’s all that ever matters

November comes with an with the first snow; BB complains that he misses seeing Finn at school, but he sees Finn every weekend and most weekdays, so he’s satisfied, even if Mr. C is stuffy and old, but nice I guess

They are comfortable together- things are calm, settled into the new school year- and Poe figures he knows what to expect from life with a hyperactive seven year old and a boyfriend he’s hopelessly in love with

What’s unexpected, however, is the call he gets at 3am on a Friday night- or rather, the 6 missed calls, and the one that Poe finally picks up, his heart pounding wildly when he sees Finn’s name on the screen

He hit a pole, Finn explains, because he swerved to avoid hitting a cat

“I’m fine, honestly, Poe, the airbags went off and I was wearing my seatbelt and most of the damage is on the passenger side-”

Finn is fine, he promises, but his car is damaged fairly badly and also Finn rescued the cat, who is also fine, and they have no way to get home

So, Poe wraps BB in a blanket and carries him out to the car, and together they pick up Finn off the street in the dead of night

In five months of dating, it’s the first time Finn spends the night at Poe’s apartment with BB there

Finn sleeps on the couch, next to the makeshift nest of blankets where the kitten finally falls asleep

BB spends his Saturday writing a list of names for the kitten, who is entrusted to his care (and Poe’s) while Finn makes endless calls to a towing company and his insurance, and the bank and the local vet

Finn spends the next night, too, because he doesn’t want to move the cat, who is young and probably scared, and very attached to Poe and BB already

On Sunday, Finn goes to the vet to see if the cat is missing or chipped, and Finn leaves with a purring kitten that belongs only to him

BB is then allowed to name the cat officially; he becomes D-O, much to Finn’s amusment and Poe’s exasperation

(BB doesn’t deign to explain this decision, and Poe cannot bring himself to ask BB why this name was chosen more than ten times)

By then, they’ve also agreed that Finn will stay with BB and Poe until Finn’s car is fixed, so Poe can drive Finn to work, and so that D-O can stay with BB a little longer

Finn sleeps on the couch Sunday night, but BB sneaks out of bed to cuddle with the cat, and Poe finds them Monday morning, BB curled in Finn’s arms, D-O snuggled at their feet

Poe takes a picture before rousing them for school, and the picture is first the background on his phone, then printed and framed on the wall of their first home together

A smaller copy is  slipped into his wallet, too, so that the three of them are with him, always

BB cries at the end of the week, when Finn has his car again, and he and D-O are ready to go home

(By Christmas, Poe has given Finn a key to the apartment, and by Feburary, they’re looking for a place to share together)

When BB turns eight, the three (four) of them move into the apartment that becomes their first home as a family, and it marks another beginning for them all

When BB turns ten, his father gets married, and he with his grandfather walk Poe down the aisle

Poe and BB are a family. This  fact was slow and learned, but absolute all the same and Finn, still gradually, but just as certainly, becomes their family too