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flamingpudding · 6 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 25 - "Do I look like I knew that?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Edit - adjusted the last bit a little after rereading this during my break, so that it makes grammatically more sense...

There was no warning. The moment the Waynes had stepped into the main hall of this Gala they had not been prepared for what had been about to happen. The only sign they had gotten was Damian tensing for a split second before the youngest of them booked it across the hall.

Tim and Bruce instantly attempted damage control, distracting all the high society people that had noticed it, while Dick and Jason followed their youngest. Cass had already escaped the gala to the roof before they had set their first foot into the main hall.

But again, nothing could have prepared them for what was happening.

Damian not only had seen something that caused him to sprint across the room no, their Demon Brat had gone a step further and just tackled the kid of someone else over and was now wrestling with the other boy! Holding one of the daggers they must have missed to the other boy's neck.

Surprisingly, the other kid held himself pretty well against Damian. Jason and Dick spent a good five minutes just staring when they had found their youngest, only starting to move again when Vlad Master demanded answers from his child. The apparent guardian of the kid that was currently attempting to get a choke hold on Damian before getting flipped over the shoulder, the boy flipped mid air, landing on his feet.

Before Damian could lung at the other boy again Dick grabbed him, his arm wounding around Damians chest as he held onto his youngest brother that sent quite an impressive death glare towards the other kid that just returned the glare, not with the same intensity but clearly peeved had having gotten attacked out of nowhere.

"Daniel! Explain this instant! You promised me, one gala without a ruckus!" Master was clearly not amused, hopefully Bruce had some sort of peace offering ready. Not that the man needed it, Dick thought, remembering some of the reports he had seen the man on.

The boy, Daniel, turned his glare towards his guardian. "It's not my fault this time! HE attacked me first!" Jason snorted, clearly having heard out of that statement alone that Masters apparently also had a feral kid that attacked someone at a gala before.

"This is no excuse. I know you are still grieving but you can not attack my business partner's children. Wasn't it enough that you broke Andrews Mayors nose last week?"

"He deserved it, he hit a girl in a perverted way."

"Justin Gracer?"

"Made fun of my late parents' profession."

"Daniel."

"Fruitloop."

Dick watched how Masters pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not happy with his charge. By now Damian seemed to have calmed down too from whatever idea he had gotten into his head. He was still glaring at the other kid but at least it appeared he wasn't going to attack anymore when he hissed at Dick to let go of him. He still kept a hand on his shoulder just in case.

"I am so sorry Mr. Master. It wasn't Daniel that started it. Damian, come on apologies." Dick cut in, causing the other two to pay attention and fully face them. That's when he noticed it. Daniel looked a whole lot like Damian. The older siblings shared a glance before Jason left to get the others, Tim and Bruce were still stuck doing damage control but it should only be a matter of time. What was the best way to bring it up to ask subtitle questions without appearing suspicious?

Dick was just about a question before Daniel apparently beat him to it. "Fruitloop, you did not attempt to clone me did you?"

"Little Badger, why would I do that? I already have guardianship over you."

Dick felt like he was missing something here but he also felt Daniam's shoulder tense below his hand. So that was why he had attacked. Damian thought another clone appeared. He really hoped what Masters and his Charge seid were just some ill timed joke. Otherwise the implications would be very worrisome.

"Mom and Dad didn't keep some other family relations secret did they?" Daniel then asked and Masters looked at them contemplatively. "Well Jack was estranged from the rest of his family while Maddie only had her sister Alicia and as far as I am aware you and Jasmine were their only children."

"Mr. Masters if you don't mind, would it be alright to do a DNA testing? You said Daniel's father was estranged from his family? It would be good to find out now if there is a relation." Dick ignored the glare Damian was sending him now, but this was his best excuse to get the others DNA to test if the other boy was really a clone or not. If he was then the League of Assassins must have done some serious brainwashing, and memory manipulation. This would also be the first clone of Damian that actually had a consciousness of his own.

"Doesn't explain why he attacked me…" he heard the other boy mutter as Master stared at them with narrowed eyes for a while before giving the boy by his side a contemplating look.

"Daniel has lost his family and friends in an incident recently. It would be good if we found any family he could connect with or help with his grief." The man then finally said after a moment before handing Dick a business card with a number to connect them before leading his boy away, leaving the gala for all they knew.

A week later and after a lot of discussion in their Family. The Waynes and Masters meet for the DNA testing. Though the moment Masters and his charge met Bruce both froze, Bruce in his Brucie act blinked innocently at them and asked if anything was wrong.

"Fruitloop…"

"Don't be ridiculous Daniel. I never would have attempted what you appear to be implying."

The boy pointed in at Bruce as he faced his guardian. "Look at him and tell me they don't look alike! He is like a more fit version of Dad! Like he hadn't eaten a single one of mom fudges in years! You have to have an explanation for that!"

"And how would I do that?"

"I don't know! You're the fruitloop one that had cloning equipment in the basement! Who did you buy it from? Some old fruitloop? The one you bought it from, did they try to - i don't know - clone a celebrity for themselves! The papers you had with it clearly stated that it had been used successfully once. It was a second hand bought with super old technology when I demanded you destroy the stuff!"

"Daniel, do I look like I knew that? I never looked in these papers you speak of! I just bought it as a backup plan, that I never needed a little badger! Besides the only one I would have ever attempted to clone with that time frame would have been your mother! I didn't even know your father before college! "

"Why would you buy something without looking into the papers and instruction manuals you get with it?!"

"There was no need for! Why did you even look into that when you had me destroy it anyway?!"

The Waynes looked back and forth between Masters and his charge. The more these two continued to argue the more a sinking feeling started to form in everyone present. It was Tim though that voiced everyone's thoughts as he leaned over to Bruce whispering only one question. "Are we sure there never has been an attempt of someone trying to clone you? It sounds like there had been one, years ago…"

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wenigstenshabeichesversucht · 5 months

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"He is half of my soul, as the poets say"

Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader sees something on a job which got her realising life is too short

Warnings: angst, trauma, description of dead, english is not my native language

Word Count: 4.3k

The cold was slowly creeping up on you, and the sight before you could only mean one thing, you were dreaming, dreaming a nightmare.

The day started like every other, you all slept till noon and then George went to the Archive to collect information for your new case while Lucy, Lockwood and you prepared everything else.

The sun was already slowly setting and was turning everything around you into a dim light when you all met up with George. “Around sixty years ago, the house was owned by a young couple, Andrew and Mary Hoffman. They were brutally murdered by robbers.” George told the team as you entered said house.

The new owners had no connection to the killed couple, they weren’t even sure if it was one or two ghosts. They only reported that the living room and the second bedroom upstairs were colder than the rest of the house; two weeks ago at night, the rooms became so cold that the windows were freezing and they could see their own breath. This, plus a dreadful feeling, had brought the owners to Lockwood & Co. to get rid of their ghost problem.

You joined Lockwood & Co. half a year ago. Since then, your team had become your best friends, and you trusted them with your life. Of course, with Lockwood & Co. often times things took a turn that really nobody expected, but they had your back and you had theirs, so you knew that it didn’t matter what the night had in store, Lockwood & Co. would ace it.

With this in mind, you followed your team inside the kitchen. Like every good team, you knew your ins and outs, so you didn’t need to talk to know that it was your job to make tea while Lockwood searched for biscuits. You had like fifteen minutes before the darkness would settle upon East London, which was also enough time for a cup of tea and one or maybe two biscuits.

While you were busy preparing each cup of tea the way each member of Lockwood& Co. liked it, Lockwood found what he was looking for. And when he happily declared that the new owners had the good kind of biscuit, you couldn’t help but smile. Lockwood’s happiness always got you beaming, when he was happy, you were happy, probably because you were such good friends. At least that’s what you tell yourself when you were lying at night in your bed and couldn’t sleep because you were too busy thinking about how the laugh of your boss sounded or how his skin felt on yours when you accidentally touched at the kitchen table when you both were reaching for the same item. Maybe if you would stop for a moment and think about it, you would realise that you were head over heels in love with your boss and landlord, but for you denial was not just a river in Egypt.

“The police suspected Mary was killed first, they found her body in the living room. Andrew was found upstairs in the open door of the bedroom. They assumed, he heard the gunshot which killed Mary and wanted to see what happened”, George shared his grim research, and you pushed his cup over the counter to him. As thanks, he gave you a quick nod.

“So, we should split up”, Lockwood appeared next to you and cool like always he leaned against the kitchen counter. This was enough to make your heart skip a beat. It felt like every minute, it would just jump out of your ribcage.

“George and I, and you and Y/N, like always?”, asked Lucy sipping her tea.

Lucy was the best listener you ever met; Lockwood’s talent was great sight. You were like George; you got a bit of everything. You could see ghost, but no death-glow. You could hear the voices of visitors, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. Only your touch was better than average and saved you from the fate of a night watch kid. Sometimes when you touch something ghost infected, you could see, hear, and feel important moments of the ghost’s life. For you, these visions often felt like minutes, but it was only a few seconds.

But in Lockwood’s humble opinion, a few second were enough for you to get ghost-touched. For someone so reckless, he was terribly worried about your safety. Therefore, you got into more than one argument about this issue. If Lockwood had his way, you would sit back home, while your team was fighting ghost without you. But that was no life you wanted to live, and you made this clear. If Lockwood would ever force you to stay back at Portland Row, you would leave Lockwood and Co. This was the argument, which always won you the fight. When he couldn’t keep you safe by leaving you back home, Lockwood insisted, that on missions you always stayed by his side. He was the best swordsman of you four, so he was the best fit to protect you and himself from getting ghost-touched. You didn’t mind. It was nice to work close with Lockwood, when he wasn’t plunging himself head first into danger. But Lucy once claimed, with knowing smirk in her face, that he was doing it less, since you joined the agency.

It was no surprise to everyone, that he agreed with Lucy, and before you knew it, you were standing in the living room. One look at your watch confirmed what you already felt, every minute the last light of the sun would disappear, and the night would begin. Unconsciously wrapping your jacket tighter around your frame, your fingers fiddled with your belt, trying to remove the thermometer.

You weren’t nervous-no- you weren’t more nervous than on any other mission. Of course, you didn’t know which kind of ghost you would encounter this night, but you were positive that you could handle it. To fail in front of Lockwood wasn’t an option.

Finally freeing the thermometer from your belt, you began to start tracking the temperature. This was your job, while Lockwood was kneeing in the middle of the room, probably examining the death-glow.

The closer you got to the fireplace, where the remains of a long-forgotten fire lay, the colder it became. When you came to a stop in front of the fireplace, your hair stood up, and you couldn’t help but tremble. Closing your eyes, you put your hand on the old stones of the fireplace, expecting them to be cold, but they were nicely warm.

“How odd”, you muttered, before you were hit by a vision.

The first you picked up was the warm, it was a stark contrast to the cold, you were feeling just seconds ago. You were still standing in the same spot in the same room, but beside the fireplace everything was different. The furniture and décor were an older style, bright sunlight shone through the window, and everything screamed home.

In the middle of the room, a couple were slow dancing to “Will You Love Me Tomorrow” from The Shirelles, they were laughing and the happiness they were emitting was luring you in. You couldn’t help but also smile, and for a moment you forget that this wasn’t real. As if you were under a spell, you watched the couple in awe and as he spun her around, you saw his face for the first time.

You inhaled sharp. This face in front of you, you would recognize everywhere. The man looked exactly like how you imagine Lockwood would look in maybe four or five years. He was dressed in the fashion of the 60s, and his eyes shined full of love. You could watch him like this forever.

Narrowing your eyes, you tried to get a better look at his dance partner. She had light brown hair and wore a pretty yellow dress. The pair did another turn, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. The woman in Lockwood’s arm were you. She was exactly looking like you. Maybe a few years older and a lot happier.

Lockwood was gazing at her like she was his world, and you would have given everything that your Lockwood would looking at you like he was looking at her. You would kill for it. As this thought plopped up in your head, the world around you shifted.

In one moment, everything around you were bright and warm in the next moment you stood in the dark lifeless living room and the cold rushed over you, like somebody emptied a bucket full of ice water over your head.

A bad taste in your mouth and a creeping feeling of dread was all the warning you got, but it was also all the warning you needed. Pulling out your rapier, you spun around to come face to face with the ghost of Mary Hoffmann. But what you saw let you freeze like a stone statue. You weren’t ghost-locked, you just couldn’t believe it. It was like looking into a mirror, just that the own reflection was dead.

Shortly the thought, that the ghost was playing with you, crossed your mind, but that was not how your visions worked. Mary looked exactly like she had in the vision; she was your Doppelgänger.

Tearing your eyes from the sight, you never wanted to see in your life, you looked to Lockwood. Normally Lockwood tried to look cool, calm, collected, but right now his eyes darted between you and the ghost, not believing what he saw.

Nobody of you were moving, the ghost looked at you and when your eyes locked you couldn’t even lift a finger. You could feel her sadness and her grieve. But under all there was anger, an anger you could understand all too well. Maybe you didn’t know how it felt to lose your own life, but you already felt the grieve and anger after you lost a loved one.

“Darling, please step back slowly”, Lockwood tried to sound calm, but you could see right through it. But his voice had always the same effect on you, it brought you back.

Removing your gaze from the ghost in front of you, your eyes met Lockwood’s. That was enough to stop the growing panic. He was here with you, nothing too bad would happen.

Clutching your rapier like your life depended on it, you followed Lockwood’s order. Slowly you took a step back, then another till your back hit the wooden shelf of the fireplace. All the time you watched the ghost cautious, waiting for it to attack you. But Mary only followed curious your movement until you touched the wood.

It was like you flipped a switch. In one moment, she was peaceful, in the next she wasn’t any more. With a high wail she lunged for you, and before you could react Lockwood was there, his rapier slicing through her. Ectoplasm splattered around, and a few drops hit your boots. And the ghost? She vanished but both of you were agents and knew that it was only a matter of time, that she would reappear. Time you could use to search for the source.

“Are you OK?”, Lockwood sounded concerned.

Like the liar you were, you sent him a small smile, “Sure.”

Of course, you weren’t OK, not after seeing this. But you were too professional, to let it affect your work. Therefore, you took a deep breath and tried to slow your thoughts. First came the work and when you survived the night, you could handle your feelings.

You weren’t new to this field, your experience told you, that it wasn’t a coincidence that Mary acted up as you touched the wood. Her source had to be close. A short look at Lockwood confirmed your suspicion.

“We should lay out the chains”, Lockwood suggested, and you nodded. Both of you knew, that there was no guarantee what would happen, if you touched the source and to find it you had to touch it. Also, there was the possibility, that the ghost was out to get you. Maybe it also realized that you both were a lookalike and now wanted to kill you for it.

“I grab them and Darling, remember no matter what happens, I have your back.”

While Lockwood laid out the chains, he insisted on doing it, you stood with raised rapier next to him, ready to fight off the ghost, if it would appear. But you both were lucky; Mary didn’t show up.

Now you stood inside the iron chains, slowly reaching out to touch the wood a second time. You could feel it, you were so close. Closing your eyes for better concentrating, you carefully let your hands wander over the shelf. When you touched to deep cuts in the wood, which awfully resembled the letters A and M, you knew, that you found it. But before you could inform Lockwood, another vision came crashing over you like a wave and pulled you under.

You were in the same room as in the last vision. But now it was night, and you were looking down the barrel of a gun. Her angst, your angst, was all consuming. Your whole body was shacking.

“Please”, her and at the same time also your voice, was not more than a whisper.

That was all you needed to realize, that in this vision you weren’t just watching her, you were her. And now you would learn how it felt like to die. A small tear ran down your cheek, and you didn’t know if it was Mary or you, who was crying.

Before you could beg again, the robber pulled the trigger. The pain you felt as the bullet priced your flesh was worse than anything you had experienced before. Falling to the floor, you wanted to scream, but the only sound which left your mouth was a quit whimper.

You could feel the warm blood rushing out of your body and starting to form a puddle beneath you. You were too young to die. You had so much you wanted to do, you had so many people you had so say goodbye to. You just couldn’t leave George, Lucy and him- oh you would miss him so much.

With the last of your strength, you tried pressing down on your wound. Burning hot pain shot through your body. But still your warm blood was running through your finger, and you were running out of time. Any breath could be your last one. Everything was cold and you were so tired. You would love nothing more, than to just close your eyes, so you did. Your lungs took their last breath, and then you died.

Just to suddenly standing next to Marys/ your dead body. There was only one thing worse than seeing your own ghost, and that was seeing your own lifeless body. By the sight in front of you, your blood was running cold, and you felt like throwing up.

“Darling, everything alright? What was this noise?”, you heard Lockwood’s voice from above. The robber exchanged looks before they followed his voice upstairs.

Knowing what was to come, your whole body went stiff.

No-no-no-no, that could not happen. You couldn’t let him die. Panicking, you searched for something, that could be used as a weapon, but when you tried to reach for the poker, your hand just went through. In this vision, you were the ghost, you couldn’t change anything.

You jumped when two shots rang out, another tear was running down your cheek. Damn, you knew that you didn’t want to see it, but you couldn’t help it.

Rushing up the stairs, there he was lying. His lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling; all sparks long gone from them. Your legs gave up under you and with a loud wail you felt to the floor. You were wrong earlier; the worst sight of your life was Lockwood’s dead body here in front of you. And you would never fully recover from it.

You were still crying ugly when you came back. When you said yes to this job, you really didn’t expect to get so traumatised. Your heart was beating so fast like you just ran a marathon. Trembling all over, you allowed yourself a quick look over your shoulder.

There he stood, with his back to you, he was facing the room. His rapier was resting in his hands, while he tried to look less tense than he was feeling. Relief flooded through you at the sight of him. It hasn’t been real, he was alive. You suppressed a loud sob and forced yourself to appear calm on the outside, even if there was a storm raging inside.

“I found the source, do you have a crowbar?”, hearing the sound of your voice, Lockwood turned around, which was a bad mistake.

Of course your luck just ran out and Mary decided, that this was the best moment to reappear again. Would it be a typical mission for Lockwood and Co. if something like this wouldn’t happen? You guessed not.

Seeing her appear right behind Lockwood, her arm outstretched, gave you a heart attack.

They say when something terrible happens, you witness it in slow motion. But that wasn’t true for you. It always happened so fast.

“Watch out”, you yelled, while your hands worked hastily to pull out a salt bombe out of your jacket pocket. While Lockwood spun around and only escaped the ghost-touched by jumping back, you threw the bomb. It hit Mary right in the chest, and with a high-pitched wail she backed off.

“I will fend her off”, without warning, Lockwood threw with his free hand his crowbar to you. Luckily for you, you caught it.

To be completely honest, this was a shitty job. You hated it with all your bones. If it were up to you, this night couldn’t end fast enough.

So you took Lockwood’s crowbar and bought it down onto the shelf with all your anger bundled and a roar of frustration. Two hits were enough to cause the part of the wood with the initials to splinter.

Behind you, you heard Lockwood taunting the ghost to distract her from you. Because one thing for sure, Mary hated what you were doing to her source.

There was no reason for you to drag this out any longer. Therefore, you took your silver net and threw it over the little piece of wood, you broke off. In an instance, the chaos stopped.

“Are you alri-”, Lockwood never got to finish his sentence, he got too distracted from the loud pounding footsteps, which were running down the stairs.

The next moment, Lucy appeared in the doorway.

“Thank god, you are alive”, with a relived sigh, she threw her arms around Lockwood. Confused, his eyebrows raised.

Would it be any other day, you might have become jealous at the sight in front of you- you could never hug Lockwood light this- but this job had been hell. You only felt tired, so tired.

“We were fighting against a ghost, which looked exactly like you”, Lucy added when she realised how confused Lockwood looked. You already put two and two together, thanks to your visions.

“And suddenly he just vanished, did you found both sources by any chance?”, George chimed in as he entered the room.

“Quite possible”, picking up the silver net, you were careful not expose the source.

“Here”, without further ado, you handed the net into George’s unexpected hand. You wanted nothing more to do with it.

Not waiting for his response, you pushed past him and rushed out of the house. You knew that it wasn’t your smartest move to just run out of a house in the middle of the night. But you still had your rapier and you needed fresh air.

Trembling all over, you took a deep breath. What the hell had been this shit show? And why had they looked exactly like Lockwood and you? You wanted to cry, but you hadn’t any tears left. Wiping your cheeks to remove the salty remains, you crumbled a little. You could still feel the warm blood on your hands, you could still see Lockwood lying dead in front of you.

But before you could collapse, you heard steps behind you. Turning your head, you saw Lockwood hurrying to you. Without saying anything, he pulled you in his warm embrace, and you melted under his touch. Laying your head against his chest, your hands griped his coat, like you were afraid he would leave you. You could hear his hearth racing, and you were sure, that your heart was beating even faster.

Like this, you stayed for what felt like forever. It seemed like both of you wanted to make sure, that what happened inside the house wasn’t more than a bad dream. As if you stayed long enough like this, you could undo what you had seen insight.

After a moment Lockwood broke the silence, “For a second I thought you were her and that you-”, right in the middle he stopped, and you looked up into his pained face.

This was the moment, that you realised, how close you were. You would just have to stand on your tiptoes and your lips would be brushing his. But you didn’t dare. What if he didn’t like you as much as you like him? Then you try to kiss him, ruining everything.

“I never felt such relief in my life when I saw you standing there”, pausing, Lockwood also seemed to realise in which position you both were. Blushing, he took a step back, and you wanted to scream.

“Darling, will you be OK after tonight?” Certainly not. Maybe you put a stop to the haunting, but for sure her memories will haunt you.

To 85.66% you were sure, that after this night Lockwood told the rest of the team, that you both had fought against your lookalikes. You could see it in the pitiful glances they gave you.

The first days after the job, you mainly spend in your room. At the latest, when you didn’t protest when Lockwood suggested that you stay home for the next job, everyone knew that something was wrong with you.

Every night in your dreams, you and Lockwood died again and again. Every night you woke up heavily panting, and your bed was soaked with sweat. Rational, you knew that neither you nor Lockwood had died, but it had felt so real.

Even when the light was shining through your window, you felt the adrenalin pumping through your veins, ready to fight or flight. The worst part was, that you knew your fear wasn’t so wrong. As an agent, every job could be your last. A little slip up and you could be dead.

To distract yourself, you tried to think of reasons why Mary and Andrew Hoffman looked exactly like you and Lockwood.

One time you read, that every person had seven doppelgängers, but the probability that your lookalike married Lockwood’s was so low. There must be another explanation, you just knew it.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the knock on your door. Only when Lockwood entered your room, you got brought back.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”, you asked the first thing, that came into your mind, before he could say anything.

Taken by surprise, he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of your room.

“I-I- I mean”, he stuttered, and slowly a blush began creeping up his face. From the eloquent Lockwood you often watched was no sign to see.

“Are you thinking about them?”, he asked instead of answering your question. He didn’t even have to say their names for you to know who he was talking about.

“Yes, they got me thinking. How odd it is that both were our lookalikes?”

“And they married each other.” Lockwood’s brown eyes met yours and your heart stopped.

“Yes, and they married each other”, you repeated breathless, while Lockwood came closer.

“May I?”, before you knew it, he was sitting next to you on the bed. Only now did you realize he had swapped his fine suit for a simple grey jumper. If it was even possible, your heart started to beat even faster. Discreetly, you tried to wipe off your sweaty hands on your leggings.

Hoping to gain control over your own body again, you took a deep breath. “You didn’t answer my first question, do you believe in reincarnation?”

Nervously, you bit on your lips, and Lockwood’s eyes followed the movement before his eyes lingered.

While fidgeting with his hands, Lockwood cleared his throat. Never before you saw him so nervous.

“I would like to believe that my soul will always find yours, no matter when and where we are.”

He was looking anywhere but at you. Which was fine, totally fine, because you looked like an idiot.

Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Or was it just wishful thinking?

The last job has showed you, that the life could be awfully short, you could die any time. Sometime love was worth taking a risk on and if you knew one thing it was, that you loved the reckless idiot in front of you.

Gripping his jumper, you brought his lips down to yours. First, he wasn’t kissing back, and you were scared, that you did a big mistake. But then he returned the kiss, and you felt like flying.

Far too quickly you separated and breathless you gazed into each other eyes.

“I would also like to believe that my soul will always find yours.”

#anthony lockwood #fanfic #lockwood & co #lockwood & co fanfic #lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader

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emry-stars-art · 9 months

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Question: how long does medusa neil takes to grow?

Like, taking the hands as Andrew's, is it more of a "whiplash because I was petting this baby a month ago and it's now Big" situation or "wait what you're telling this hot mer is that tiny cute thingy I'd found around as a teen?" one

Ok ok so I had just put out “Andrew finding baby jelly neil would be really cute” as like a fun little side thought but now I REALLY LIKE IT AND I WANT TO PUT IT IN THE TIMELINE

so to answer this question: physically? A Sea Nettle mer like Neil I’m going to say takes about 17-19 years to reach physical maturity/full size (which in jellies is pretty far removed from mental and emotional maturity, jelly brains take a good while to develop because they start with so little)

So this. This is what I’m deciding thank you so much @snazzy-jas-z-is-a-fan-of (which counts as your second option, dear galacticvampire)

And it looks like this:

@exy-is-sexy medusa admirer 🥰

So Andrew always comes back to the beach (fisherman’s son, they’re there a lot) and always gets distracted going to a specific tide pool housing this little thing he found. Aaron thinks it’s really cool too, their dad is too busy with work down the beach and is happy his kids are entertaining themselves while he gets ready for the day. Of course, yes, he tells them. Very good, finding such a mer in these waters. (He thinks it’s kids being kids. No one’s seen a jelly mer, they’re kind of believed to be extinct if not simply legends. But a little imagination is healthy.)

Then one day, Andrew checks the tide pool and finds it empty of the tiny jelly. It’s nowhere in sight, he looks all over the nearby waters and in any grass or rocks it could have gotten caught in. Nothing at all.

Maybe by the time he’s taken over his family’s fishing business, Andrew has convinced himself it really was in his imagination. His memory serves him well but if he’d convinced himself it was real back then, that would be what he remembered now.

Until he finds a monster washed up on his beach.

(A shot of the process under the cut)

IT DOESNT COME ACROSS IN THE PANEL. BUT I CANNOT PROPERLY EXPRESS TO YOU HOW TINY THAT SECOND NEIL IS. literally I think that is the single smallest thing I’ve ever drawn. Look at this

That’s me sharpening my 0.3 mechanical pencil to get it small enough to draw the eyes. I just need everyone to know this because I think it’s so stupid and funny. And we all love tiny baby jelly Neil and it doesn’t get ANY tinier than this folks

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palmettoshitposts · 8 months

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random hoh neil (+andrew) kefu headcanons:

the only reason anyone figures out that neil has hearing loss is because they’re at a party and neil is a tiny bit tipsy and he just goes “don’t you wish you could hear as well as you did when you were a kid? like there’s sounds I miss hearing from childhood” - neil heard that people lose their hearing as they get older and he just presumed it happened to everyone and no one mentioned it until you’re like in your 60s

the foxes have presumed for a long time it's probably an adhd thing that neil can't follow more than one conversation at once. meanwhile neil just can't lipread them all

the other foxes (it’s mostly matt and nicky) convince neil to find a way to shut kevin up a bit on court. neil, always willing to fuck with kevin, goes on a seemingly sincere ramble one night about losing his hearing has made him become a better player because he’s ‘more in tune with the game’. kevin takes this to heart and starts musing about the importance of nonverbal communication on court and andrew is pissing himself silent laughter

andrew thought neil was beginning to lose interest in him. neil is appalled when he finds this out and says that andrew is, for once, the idiot in the relationship.

when neil gets his first hearing aids, he removes them every time kevin starts speaking and dangles them at him like it’s a bell

andrew immediately learns sign language. there are lots of things andrew can’t say out loud but he can sign. signing feels more purposeful and less open to interpretation. he starts signing things to people that he wants to say but can’t. (‘thank you for caring’ is directed at nicky over the noise of a busy party. andrew presumes can’t understand or won’t see. he does, but never lets on)

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jtl-fics · 11 months

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Fluent Freshman - Part 16

Sweeties is very busy tonight but they get a table relatively quickly. He sees some people looking at their group all dressed in the ‘required’ attire for going out to Eden’s and reminds himself that maybe it’s for the best that people remember him tonight. It MAY help the police find his body in a shallow grave somewhere if they can piece together his last few hours.

Nicky stops by the salad bar and grabs three packs of crackers. He hands one pack to FF who just stares blankly at it before shrugging and figuring his stomach needs something so he opens the pack and just eats the crackers.

Nicky looks at him with an abundance of fondness that he doesn’t understand but shakes his head and hands a laminated menu over to him to order dinner from. “I know you’re not drinking but you still gotta take your meds before we leave.” Nicky reminds and FF nods. He reaches into his pocket to confirm that they’re there and feels something cheap and plastic.

Oh god, he forgot to take his Happy Meal Toy out of his pocket. No one needs to know that.

He shoves his hand into his other jacket pocket and the sandwich baggy with his single dose for his Ulcer is right there.

He starts to look at the menu when he realizes that everyone else already knows what they’re going to order since they apparently come here regularly. He tries his best to never be a regular at any place where they can see him and repeat his order back to him (Hello CVS girl, yes thank you for holding some Pepto for him. No he is very brand loyal and would not like to try Tums thank you.)

FF stands behind the art of the panic pick.

He has cultivated this ability over his many years of panicking. He can look at a menu and pick an item that might not be the thing he most wants on that menu it is something that he can eat or drink. Then while he has that pick queued up and ready to fly if a member of the waitstaff comes over before he’s actually read what’s on offer he has his panic pick.

A place like this has GOT to have a burger.

He finds it under the sandwich section easily enough and now he has his panic pick as he peruses the rest of the menu.

The waitress comes far faster than he had anticipated and slams waters down at each of their spots. “What can I get you?” She asks and before anyone says anything Nicky and Aaron slide over the two packets of crackers that she takes before looking at the empty packet in front of FF, “Just two?” She asks.

WHAT KIND OF CODE IS THIS?

“Just two.” Nicky says grabbing his trash and handing it over to her.

She shrugs, “Anything else on the menu I can get you boys?” She asks.

They all make their orders and Nicky, bravely, steps in to remind him he likes his burgers well done when the waitress asks.

“Sorry, I should have warned you.” Nicky laughs bumping his shoulder against FF’s “This place has this stuff called cracker dust, it gets you high but it’s not addictive.” He says.

Every single 80’s PSA goes off in FF’s head all at once.

NICKY “FLIPS TURTLES BACK ONTO THEIR FEET” HEMMICK DOES NOT LOOK LIKE HOW THE ‘JUST SAY NO’ ADS HAD SAID HE WOULD.

There’s not a trench coat! He wasn’t even wearing a hoodie with the hood up! There’s no sunglasses! Nicky had given him a baggie for his ulcer meds but IT WAS A SANDWICH BAG.

“I see.” He says out loud.

“Do you wanna try some.” Aaron asks. He double checks and yeah Aaron is still in the same club clothes he had left the house with. He has on a hoodie but the hood is down.

He does as any 80’s teen sitcom protagonist does by the end of the episode.

“No thank you.”

He thinks Mr. T would be happy that he said No. That ad had been especially nerve wracking as a kid when Mr. T ‘shakes some sense’ into the camera.

“Alright, no worries. Neil and Andrew don’t do any either.” Nicky says quickly.

The drugs come with the food and Nicky and Aaron pocket them before handing over cash to the waitress who just counts it right there. He focuses on digging into his burger and realizes it has jalapeños on it but Nicky volunteers to eat them with his nachos and lets the conversation weave around him as he polishes off his burger and takes his ulcer meds. “Oh cool, hand me the bag so I can keep our stuff in there.” Nicky makes a grabbing motion with his hands and FF just hands it over.

He zones out as he eats his fries. He wonders if Great Gran is upset watching him or if she’s happy that he said no to drugs. Maybe he should have said yes, then he could at least be blasted out of his mind when Andrew dragged him to the basement.

Well, it’s too late now.

The waitress comes and clears out their plates but picks up her notepad and pen again. “So, what ice cream do you boys want tonight?” She asks and looks straight at FF.

But FF is prepared.

Ice cream places are easy. His panic pick is a given, it’s Vanilla. Every ice cream joint has it so he barely even notices how his heart rate kicks up to 190 BPM and his palms grow instantly sweaty.

“Vanilla.”

“Sorry Hun, we’re fresh out.”

OH GOD. QUICK, SAY SOMETHING ELSE.

“Surprise me.”

NO YOU IDIOT SAY CHOCOLATE.

“Surprise you?”

RETRACT, IT’S NOT TOO LATE.

“Yeah. Surprise me.” He repeats and he can FEEL Nicky vibrating with laughter next to him.

“Alright Hun, I’ll surprise you.” She winks at him and he blinks back at her.

The rest of the table all order (They’re all normal people who order strawberry (neil), the special with chocolate (Nicky), Lemon Sorbet (Aaron), and Brownie Fudge (Andrew).

“Surprise me.” Nicky whispers to him.

“I panicked.” He whispers back.

“Yeah obviously.” Nicky snorts but pats him, “It’s fine. The worst is you might end up with Pistachio or something.” He pats FF on the back.

FF likes Pistachio and the world loves to make FF suffer.

“Here you go hun. We just got this in, it’s Mango.” She says setting down two scoops of a bright orange ice cream down in front of him, “With a little surprise.” She winks again as she sets the other ice cream down.

They all get started.

Why is the Ice Cream kind of spicy?

He eventually puzzles out that the waitress has served him a Mango and some kind of pepper (probably habanero) ice cream. She smiles when he thanks her for the surprise, tries not to let it show how much the spice is KILLING his stomach let alone the acid of the mango.

Andrew has his eyes narrowed on him and he’s sure the man doesn’t want him to make a scene at a place that seems to be a frequent haunt for the family. So he eats every last bite and ignores how his lips tingle.

“Ohhh it must have been good. Maybe we should get you her number.” Nicky says looking at his empty bowl.

“No, I’m good.” She was pretty but considering the acid currently swirling in his stomach she probably thought he was an asshole for asking for her to ‘surprise him’. Even if that wasn’t the case, what if she thought it’d be cute to serve him this spicy ice cream as a cute couple thing? His stomach can’t take that.

“Aw man you’re no fun.” Nicky pouts.

They pay for their meals and the waitress hands him his receipt with a wink. He nods back at her before shoving the receipt into his pocket next to the Megamind toy. “Have a good night.” He says.

“You too Hun.” She says.

They head out for Eden’s and in a way the ice cream is a blessing because his stomach hurts enough that he barely even notices his anxiety about being at the place where Andrew most certainly is going to stab him at least once by the end of the night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lilyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream

The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you I swear it wasn’t malicious I’m just brunch dumb at the moment. Remind me in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#fluent freshman au #I swear they're going to be at Eden's next time #The Ice Cream discourse made me laugh enough that I ended up writing about Sweetie's instead lol #The majority of you looked at my boy and saw Vanilla and you are not wrong #The Waitress: Marge those boys brought someone new and he's funny. He told me to surprise him for the ice cream flavor.#Marge (manager): Well what are you going to surprise him with?#The Waitress: Well he got the burger with Jalapenos so he must like spice. We got that new flavor in right? Can I dig into early?#Marge (Manager): sure #Andrew watching Nicky and Neil whisper and bump shoulders: I'll definitely show him the Speak Easy once Nicky and Aaron are fucked up #I would like to thank my buddy Kim for helping me workshop the most damaging ice cream flavor to FF #Originally was googling weird ones but truly few could be worse for his tummy #And he left his tried and true pepto at home. This really isn't his night #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG Fic #AFTG shitpost #my fic #FF - PT. 16

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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previous chapter

———

“Take the exit here.”

“How come?” Nico asks, dutifully putting on his blinker and merging into the right lane. “We’re not even at half tank.”

Will clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s, uh, not for gas.”

A pause.

“Oh, Solace, you’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!”

Nico throws his hands up, ignoring Will’s screech of both hands on the wheel, I value my life! “There is no possible way you have to piss already. You had half a slushie!”

“...Well.”

“William Andrew Solace, I swear to God.”

“I got distracted!” Will cries, eyes big and round as he pouts. “The Abstract Iron Centaur is a monument, okay, I forgot what the point of the rest stop was for.”

Nico groans. “I’m not sure you should be allowed to go to medical school. You’re going to forget a scalpel in someone’s lungs, or something.”

Immediately, he knows this is the wrong thing to say. The sheepish grin vanishes off Will’s face, replaced with something despairing, before it’s hastily shoved back on.

The winding road finally gives way to the advertised rest stop, partially obscured by a Welcome to Georgia sign with a modernist-style image of a peach that annoys him for no reason. We’re glad Georgia’s on your mind. (False. Georgia is never on his mind, except for how Will can’t say Georgia without slipping into his accent and Nico has to take that golden opportunity to mock him. And then die.)

“Right,” Will says finally. He forces a laugh. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then gets out of the car without so much as a word.

Nico watches him go.

“Well,” he mutters to himself. “Shit.”

He waits in the car as long as he physically can, which is anything between thirty seconds and four business days. A glance at his watch informs him it’s closer to two minutes.

He kicks a stone across the parking lot, debating the implications of searching for his friend. It hasn’t really been that long, so he’s not sure it’s socially appropriate, and then he wonders when the hell he started caring about being socially appropriate. They are friends, after all, because in a group icebreaker question about siblings in seventh grade, Nico had growled none, on the account that she was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten and Will had laughed, brightly and morbidly, and said hey, my brothers were murdered, too! Twinsies! and killed the vibe rather brilliantly for literally everybody else in the room.

He gives into his impulse eventually, striding onto the surprisingly soft grass and looking, halfheartedly, around the spacious grounds (he’d decided searching the bathroom would be a touch too far). His mission gets sidetracked, however, because the heat is less oppressive under the shade of tall, weeping willows, and there’s a small breeze, and he is struggling to shove his various musings into the Repression Box where they belong.

Will, starts one of said musings, has been acting weird as shit long before he showed up at his house in the middle of the night.

It had started around January? If he had to guess. But Will is always kind of weird in the winter, so he hadn’t thought much of it, just offered to break into his house more often so he didn’t feel too suffocated. The usual. But the strangeness had persisted through the spring – the sudden drops in mood, the hair-triggers to clam him up. Both of which are usually a Nico thing. Will, more often, just shoves all his negative emotions down to the bottom of his soul until he gets one half-mark wrong on a test and sobs himself sick about being useless while Nico stands guard outside the bathroom door, agonised, unsure how to help. And then the two of them never talk about it again.

Over the last few months, things have been a little less balanced.

“Hey.”

Nico jumps. Will stands slightly, shoulders still hunched slightly, but definitely less cagey than earlier. He holds out a cup of coffee Nico recognises as from a vending machine.

“Hi,” Nico says softly, smiling tentatively. He takes the coffee. It’s black, and too hot, just how he likes it.

“You are going to stain your teeth,” Will observes, as he always does.

“Bite me,” Nico responds, following the script.

A genuine smile pulls at his face.

“You ready to get back on the road?”

“Yep.”

They fall into step in their hike back to the Jeep – Nico hiked farther than he meant to. Will’s flip-flops slapping rhythmically against the packed dirt of the trail is a familiar sound, and it eases some of his own tension, putting a bit more prep in his step. When he glances quickly over, Will is breathing normally, shoulders slack, much calmer expression on his face.

“You should let me drive,” he says as they approach. “You’ve been behind the wheel since practically dawn; maybe you should take a nap or something.”

Nico shakes his head, waving a dismissive arm. Frowning slightly, Will acquiesces, climbing back into the passenger side.

“I’ve had two coffees and half a slushie,” he explains, resting his hand on the back of Will’s seat. He cranes his neck behind him, careful of the family walking an unleashed dog as he pulls out. “I’m good forever.”

“Caffeine doesn’t work on you,” Will points out.

Nico pauses.

“...True.”

He hadn’t realise Will had noticed, actually. Although he supposes it’s not too surprising – Will has known him a long time, Will is observant, and Will generally enjoys lecturing people about anything he can get away with, up to and including their general health and safety. Nico, in all his bad choices, is a favourite target of his. He can probably recite his solo midnight speed driving from memory.

“It’s just –” Will stops, waiting until Nico’s safely merged back on the highway before continuing. “It’s three and a half hours ‘till we get to Atlanta, Neeks, and it’s already three-thirty. We’ll have to stop again for food, probably, at one point, and we’ll have to stop for food, soon, and who knows what the traffic will be like –��

Carefully passing the person going sixty in front of him, finally breaking into open road, Nico takes half an eye off the road and digs through the centre console.

“– I mean, if it’s bumper to bumper, then what? It’ll be rush hour soon, shit, I shoulda planned for that, shit, do we have a jerrycan? We should have a jerrycan, remind me to get a jerrycan for the trunk –”

Finally catching sight of the CD he’s looking for (and barely managing to swerve and avoid a massive pothole that would have for sure cut their trip short, but he managed, so take that, Reckless Driving Lecture Will that lives in his brain, who’s God now), he hands it to Will. Still actively stressing about literally nothing, he opens it, polishing the disc on habit and sliding it into the slot without so much as pausing.

Nico smirks.

Yeah, maybe he knows his friend, too.

“– I mean, just blankets and a first aid kit is not enough. Really, we should have some provisions in there. Oh, and rope, ‘cause what if we get stranded in the mountains –”

The radio clicks as it reads the disc, then, suddenly and without warning, the stereo rumbles with heavy bass and pounding beat.

Will cuts himself off. “Hey, is this –”

Nico smirks wider. He chances another look away from the road, just in time to watch a magnificent smile break across Will’s face, wide and a little crooked, showing all his molars – a real one, the one he gets when he’s caught off-guard, the one that makes his hands fluttery.

“You’re playing In The Zone!” he exclaims, laughing delightedly. “Without complaining!”

Bingo, Nico thinks.

“Technically, I didn’t play shit.” He gestures at the empty CD case in Will’s hand. “You’re just like a hermit crab. I hand you things, you hold them.”

“Shut up.” But there’s no bite to the command, smile still stretching wide. If Nico looks, he can see the tiny snag of his barely crooked front tooth, but he doesn’t look, because he doesn’t care about that, obviously. He has his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, fully focused.

Obviously.

They do get into disgusting traffic. Will is distressed about it, up until someone cuts them off so closely they both nearly actually and genuinely die, and he is immediately lit up in a rage so incandescent Nico wonders if he will ever be able to look away from straining biceps and a clenched jaw ever again. More distantly, he wonders if and I hope you get three consecutive aneurysms and your family leaves you to fucking rot in a hospital bed, you leprous shitdick will be on loop in his head for the rest of time. He kind of wants to put it on a shirt. Will’s linguistic talents should be studied.

“Stop thinking about it,” Will demands, socking him (hard! What the shit!) in the shoulder. His face resembles, quite exactly, the shade of the setting sun. “Purge it from your memory.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Nico responds, smirking.

“I wasn’t –” A pause. Nico bites back a snort. “Cutting people off is just so rude.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean! I mean.”

“Indeed.”

“If it was – an ambulance, or something, I would understand, but he cut us off just to get immediately stuck in the same traffic! I don’t understand the point!”

“Truly the behaviour of a leprous shitdick,” Nico agrees. His grin starts to genuinely hurt his face, but he ignores it in favour of snickering.

Will sinks into his seat, pulling his hoodie over his eyes. His ears, as usual, stick out a little, and they’re red, too. Nico nobly resists the urge to flick them.

“I hate you.”

“I think you’re quite attached to me, actually. After all, I’m not a –”

“If I hear the word leprous come from your mouth one more fucking time, di Angelo, I’ll give you leprosy. For real. I’ll find it.”

Will probably could find a vial of pure leprosy somewhere, actually, so Nico shuts up. (He’s seen Will’s weird vial collection. Most of it is just, like, various bacteria, he’s pretty sure, but Will is kind of morbid and Nico knows his sense of humour is garbage because Nico’s sense of humour is garbage, and there is a reason they’re friends, and if Nico found a vial of leprosy somewhere he would keep it, too. Can leprosy be vialed? Who knows. Will, probably.)

Once he’s sure Nico is not going to tease him anymore about his temper tantrum, or at least for the moment, he turns back to his book. Every so often, he looks up, observes the three miles per hour they’re crawling, and sighs, loudly and lengthy to himself, muttering something about railway systems and zoning laws and government incompetence. Nico doesn’t ask. He was free from the jail that was history and geography lessons last month. He is determined to learn absolutely nothing for the next six months, at least.

“I’m paying for the motel or hotel or inn et cetera,” Will says, randomly.

“No,” Nico replies, easily.

Will reaches out, calmly, and pinches him on the thigh. Nico does not yelp indignantly because he is a Man, and can handle Will’s weirdly pointy fingers.

“You paid for gas.”

“Yep.”

“And you have car payments.”

“Mhm.”

“And you bought Dunkin’s.”

“True.”

“Nico,” Will says exasperatedly, “this whole damn trip was my idea. Let me pay for shit.”

“I enjoy wasting my father’s money,” Nico counters, and Will pauses, considering. “Come on, commie. I know the idea of spending a banker’s money on stupid shit pleases you.”

He knows he’s starting to win, because Will sighs in a very particular way that Nico has identified as why am I letting this dumbass get away with this again, says, “Spending money is capitalist, Nico,” and turns, begrudgingly, back to his book.

Poorly hidden behind the pages, he’s smiling.

Nico tallies his victory.

The traffic finally eases by around eight o’clock. Victorious, surely, except that they’re still quite a ways from Atlanta. He considers getting off at one of the various exits promising shelter, and in fact decides he is going to, but for some reason, his hand never drifts to his blinker. Never turns the wheel slightly to merge, never eases off the gas. He keeps going, an going, and going, music playing softly, stars beginning to shine through the darkening sky.

Beside him, Will lets out tiny puffs as he exhales, even and sluggish.

“You are a grandmother,” he whispers fondly, shaking his head. In the quiet of the road, interrupted only by the whipping whipping winds – he should have pulled the roof back up when they were stuck, shit – and odd flash of headlights of a passing car, he lets himself soften, sighing back against his seat and easing up slightly on the gas.

Will glows, faintly, in the moonlight.

It’s funny, ‘cause he’s a sun child. Nico has teased him about it for years, in fact; his hair, his bright blue eyes, his stubborn clinging to his aesthetic of wannabe surfer boy. The gold ring he wears on his thumb, the sun pendant that rests on his heart. Swathed in yellows and blues and golds, all the time, with a sprinkling of bright green and neon orange just to remind everyone that yes, he is red green colourblind, and no, that will not stop him from making fashion choices.

But the silver suits him. It softens him, instead of washing him out, reminding Nico that the sun shines white. The low light casts gentle shadows on his face, too, drawing attention to his strong brow and straight nose.

Forcing his eyes back on the road, where they should have been the whole time, Jesus, he notices the giant green Downtown Atlanta sign, and follows its arrows. The first exit he sees, he turns, getting lost three times before he finds the hotel that was advertised.

Pulling into the largely empty parking lot, he shuts off the car, then turns to Will, screwing up his face. He has to wake him up, at some point. Obviously. Unfortunately he cannot simply melt into the shadows and reappear in a hotel room. As awesome as that would be, with his luck, he’d pop into an occupied one, and that’d be a whole host of problems.

Deciding he’ll actually get them a room first, he heads inside, speaking quietly with the desk host.

“Single or double?” they ask pleasantly, voice similarly lowered for the hour.

“Uh,” Nico says, “double?”

The host pauses, eyebrows flicking up at his hesitation. “...Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nico flushes. He adds, belatedly, “Please.”

Eyebrow raised in amusement, the host reaches into a drawer and pulls out two sleek key cards, tucking them into a little envelope thing and handing them over. “Room 409,” they say, nodding towards the elevator.

“Thanks,” Nico responds, and walks out the door. He realises, as he exits, how much of a general failure he is at communicating with people who are not Will, and considers climbing through the window of his sixth floor room out of sheer embarrassment. The realization that he does not have the skill to drag Will up there with him is the only thing that stops him.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, once he’s gathered their bags and some of the red has faded from his face, “we’re here.”

Will hums a little, voice gravelly. Nico’s lip quirk up.

“Where?”

“Somewhere to sleep.”

“‘M sleepin’ jus’ fine.”

His accent is so, so heavy with sleep, and it’s just – God, he wishes Wil hadn’t trained himself out of it. In Nico’s professional opinion, Will should talk like that all the time.

Authenticity, and all that.

“C’mon, Will.”

After another minute of coaxing – which Nico indulges purely because he knows for a fact Solace will have no memory of it in the morning, in any other circumstance he’d poke him awake – Will uncurls enough to stagger to his feet, stumbling as he gets out of the vehicle. For his own safety, Nico wraps an arm around his narrow hips, guiding him up to the room.

“Mnhgh,” he mumbles, the second the heavy door closes behind them. He walks two steps to the nearest bed, face plants in the middle of it, and starts snoring, feet hanging off the end, one flip-flip still stubbornly clinging to his foot.

“Dork,” Nico murmurs. He gets ready like a normal person, tugging on a sleep shirt – might be an old one of Will’s, actually, because Nico certainly never bought a Shania Twain concert t-shirt – and wrapping up in the wonderfully plush blankets. “Goodnight, Will.”

He gets a snore in response. He burrows deeper into the covers, smiling, drifting off to the sound of his best friend’s rhythmic breathing.

———

next chapter

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cevansbrat0007 · 8 days

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I was looking at the post where you shared what the Barbers house looks like and I had a thought. What if Andy was left in charge of the kids and one of the kids messed up her precious kitchen with a sharpie or her reading area? Who is in trouble the kids Andy or both?

Oh, everyone would be in trouble. But depending on how much time had elapsed between when the incident initially occurred and you arriving home, Andy would probably get the brunt of it.

Because he should've been paying better attention after he put the twins, AJ and Rory, down for a nap. And why the hell didn't he realize that he'd left a new pack of sharpies laying out on the coffee table?

On the coffee table!

They were left in perfect reach of two sets of tiny, meddling hands. Those hands just so happened to belong to two tiny humans who decided that their Mama needed some pretty pictures to look at while she's busy cooking in the kitchen.

Had Andy thought to bring the twins video monitor into his study with him during their naptime, he would've known the moment those two woke up. He would've watched his babies plot and plan in a language only they seem to understand.

And he would've seen, and then been subsequently impressed, by their little jailbreak.

Andrew Stephen Barber would've had time to drop his work and meet the adventurous twosome at the top of the stairs, where he could've escorted them down and gotten them a snack.

Instead, he was treated to the sounds of your panic screams. Followed by the sounds of two toddlers crying. And now he has to deal with you dragging him back into the sanctity of his study to give him an earful about how he had better hope that marker comes off with soap and water.

Otherwise he's gonna have to move out, or find you a brand new house with an even better dream kitchen.

#cevansbrat0007 asks #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x you #andy barber x you #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #andy barber x black!reader #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x wife!reader #the barber family #are sharpies washable?#mayhem in the barber household

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harrywavycurly · 4 months

Note

Sarah can I please ask for Steve rushing to meet dotty? 💕😍🥹

Hiii lovey!! I will gladly give you Steve after rushing to the hospital to meet his new bestie! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all things It Was Just One Night here✨

“Dude why is your hair wet-” “out of my way Munson I’m here to meet…holy shit she’s so cute…you didn’t tell me she was going to be so small and so..so precious.” “Did you just call my daughter precious? Was that a Lord of the Rings reference?” “Eddie…I really don’t have time to talk nerd shit with you right now I’m literally staring at my niece.” “Should I…leave you two alone?” “Yes.” “Jeeze no need for both of you to shout…I’ll uh go get some coffee…enjoy your time with her Harrington…she’s kinda amazing and you’re gonna be obsessed.” “Do you want to hold her Stevie?” “Am..I…allowed to?” “Of course you’re allowed to…come here…now just be sure to support her head…there you go you’re a natural.” “Oh uhm I brought you something it’s wrapped up in my jacket.” “You don’t have to get me…oh my god.” “I know Eddie’s always on your ass about water but figured if you had a cute cup to drink it from then it’d be easier.” “It’s pink…and glittery oh it’s perfect Stevie thank you.” “It’s the least I could do…I mean you literally made a human and all I did was have someone make you a cup…” “I did do that didn’t I?…make a whole human.” “You did…and she’s perfect.” “She really is…I love her so much it’s kinda concerning me like they took her away for half a day to do some test and I was a mess the whole time.” “I understand…I don’t think I’ll be able to stay away that long…gonna have to coordinate weekly Stevie and Polka Dot hang out sessions.” “Figured Thursdays would be best since that’s when the dungeon master holds his little meetings.” “Only one day a week?” “I mean you know where we live…come by anytime…or ya know call me and I’ll see if I’m up for people but I’ll never tell you that you can’t come see her even if I don’t wanna see you.” “Why wouldn’t you want to see me?” “You know how I get…people annoy me.” “That’s true…so how’s he been since she’s arrived? Still worried he’s gonna leave and never come back?” “He’s actually been great…he just stares at her and gets this goofy grin on his face and I mean…I think I’ll always be worried he’s gonna leave it’s just…who I am as a person.” “That’s good…I’m glad it’s all worked out for you…but remember I can still attempt to kick his ass if you need me to even though you could probably handle it yourself…I’m always gonna be here for you…and little miss perfect over here…” “Thanks Steve…you’re the best.” “I know…” “so…about your hair…” “i didn’t have time to blow dry it so it’s just drying on its own…tell me it doesn’t look horrible…” “no no…horrible it’s the word I’d use…but uhm…let’s be glad Dot can’t really open her eyes or see very well yet…” “oh god it’s that bad?” “I’m just kidding Stevie you look fine.” “We don’t joke about hair…that’s our one rule okay little Dot? Hair is serious business and one day I’ll help you come up with a routine that’ll give you the best hair on the block.” “I’m sure she can’t wait for that…” “I already love her.” “She has that effect on people.” “I love you too of course…don’t worry.” “Thanks Steve…I love you too now I’m gonna take a nap…you can just hold her or put her back in her bed if you’d like?” “Oh I’m not putting her down until I absolutely have to.” “Okay that’ll be in about half an hour when it’s time to feed her…” “okay then…just take your nap and we will be here on the couch…I’ll tell her all about how her mom and dad met.” “Steven Andrew….” “Just kidding just kidding…I’ll save that for her eighteenth birthday.”

#one night stand convos #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #modern!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #bff!steve Harrington #eddie munson #my little dungeon master baby #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #my little fluffy haired baby #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

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ch6douin · 4 months

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Hi hi! Recently I got into playing idv again and they have released a christmas map where you can play snowball and ice skate it's really fun and cute I am wondering how that would work out in the self aware au, I think most of the characters would be confused why the map is there and what it is even for but maybe some would use the map to play around for a bit? I would love to hear your thoughts!

Christmas in Oletus Manor was so eerie and gloomy in the first few years. None of the survivors or hunters could ever imagine celebrating in the state they were in, but of course, with more and more invitations sent and people coming in to participate in these games, the tradition changed drastically.

They were all used to organizing the event with no external help and trying to have some fun with what they had in their hands. The veterans were busy cooking large amounts of food and others were busy decorating the manor with handmade ornaments (props to Luca and Tracy for making the flashers). They would feast, some would pray, and then party!

So imagine their surprise when they receive a letter that one of the interdicted parts of the manor is now restored, giving them a chance to have more fun and distractions. At this point, some of them imagine that it was your influence as a player, while others think that it was you who restored the space, after all the only thing that was akin to that before you was Leo's Memory, but it was reserved for matches and they couldn't always enjoy knowing that they were being hunted. Fortunately, it didn't take too long for them to want to cease their curiosities.

What a magical sight it is to see the kids indulging in snowball fights, some survivors like Andrew and Ganji trying to get used to the slippery ice while others like Mike and Martha skated around naturally. On the other side, Anne, Galatea, and Emma trying to build as many snowmen as they can (there are at least 10 of them already, stop them before the whole snow terrain is filled 💀.) while the rest such as Norton, Michiko, Fiona and many others enjoy some hot chocolate and talk. Joseph of course doesn't waste his chance on taking pictures of basically everything.

I don't like how this went but I'm just trying to clarify my thoughts anyway lol

#idv x reader #self aware au #idvselfaware

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eating-plastic · 6 months

Text

Do the Killer Frequency Men Respect Women?

I'm a woman and this is from my POV, therefore my words are gospel/j

Forrest Nash: Yeah he does. Not much to say here. Dude doesn't have misogynous bone in his body

Brian Ponty: I mean...if it gets him business then sure, why not. Just keep in mind that his respect's dubious at best

Maurice: On a good day, maybe. Idk he just seems kinda assholey but he's like that to anyone regardless of gender so meh

Murphy: I think he does, yeah. He seems like he wants to raise his son right, and a part of that includes how to respect women

Plunker: Listen, I know frat boys got their stereotypes, the main one being that they're kinda douchy. Luckily he is absolutely NOT that stereotype at all. He gets a certified "respects women"

Eugene: He does, but to a kinda toxic degree. I'm talking neglecting his own self respect and wellbeing and that's not okay. Know your worth Eugene

Roller Ricky: um YES. He 110% respects women. He's like Forrest: not a single misogynous bone in his body. Hell he doesn't have a single drop of misogyny in his blood. He gets ten certified "respects women"s

Chuck: eh could be either or. He's kinda bland. Then again I don't like assuming the worst in people so I'll say he does

Jason: He probably does. Casey seems like a respectable woman who wouldn't put up with a misogynistic asshole. Also he's friends with a woman. Kinda hard to see a misogynist doing that

John: He's an old guy, which means old values. However I don't think he's a misogynist. I just can't see it. I think he was raised knowing how to treat women which he carried through his life. There are still a couple of things he might need to learn tho

Henry Barrow: I can see him respecting women. It would seem weird if Marie didn't teach her son that. I mean yeah she did groom him into becoming a murderer but still. She probably wanted to raise him to be a respectable man like his father was

Teddy Gallows Jr: Haha NO! Are you kidding me? The dude's reeks of misogyny. He'd probably be an Andrew Tate fan shilling hustlers university 😂. That's why I put his bitch ass down here at the bottom where it belongs

In conclusion, with the exception of Teddy Gallows Jr., the Killer Frequency men respect women to at least some degree. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

#why did I make this #why did I take time out of my night to make this 😂#killer frequency #killer frequency game #too many fucking characters so I'll just tag the ones that matter to me #forrest nash #roller ricky #henry barrow

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sp0o0kylights · 6 months

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ooo and 5 please! who's saying fuck no about what??

This waaaas a werewolf oneshot I was playing with, separate from Hungry. It features a transmasc Gareth, protective Eddie and Steve, and a personal favorite, Secret Berserker Jonathan Byers.

This was another oneshot that is made entirely of various scenes, so I wrote a quick introduction here to it. It wouldn't make a lick of sense otherwise lol.

(Similar to Hungry, we're playing with dominant/submissive werewolves. Think Patricia Briggs and Ilona Andrews & how they run their werewolf stories based on super outdated but very fun concepts of real wolf packs lol. I have my own little modern twist on them, but there's a difference between a social work/school friend group "pack" and a Wolf Pack TM. )

Snippet

Hellfire won't be out for another few minutes, but neither Steve or Jonathan talk much as they wait.

It's a peaceful kind of silence they share, particularly between two people who aren't friends, but ended up as family anyway.

Which is why both startle hard when the doors to the school slam open.

One of Munson's wolves storms out, looking over his shoulder instead of ahead. "What part of fuck no don't you get!?"

"Come on." Wheedles another voice, and Steve and Jonathan both watch as a sandy haired boy in a letterman jacket pursues the first.

Slowly, casually, and with the air of a predator.

"Don't fight it so hard, baby!" The harassing party coos, in a smug mimic of Danny Zuko.

"Do not call me that." Munson's wolf--Steve can't recall his name but he thinks it starts with a G-- whirls around.

The guy seems to be made of both fury and anxiety, backing away even as he spits and snarls--though his actual emotions are hard to get a read on given he's drenched himself in scent-neutralizing cologne.

(Steve almost sneezes when he scents it, but manages to keep himself together.)

The Hellfire kid's putting up a fight, but its clear from the way he holds himself that he’s a more submissive wolf--and a bad match to the dominate one chasing him.

Jonathan tosses a glance at Steve.

"I'll call you whatever I like." His pursuer tells him, a smile unfurling on his face. "Especially after I make you my bitch."

Steve shoves off the car the same time Jonathan does, but he ends up being the first to the scene, surging forward to step in-between the two.

Hardened battle buddy he is, Jonathan takes this as his cue to fall in behind him, sticking near Munson's wolf.

"Andy." Steve identifies, voice cold. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Harrington?" Andy replies, thrown off his target and showing it. "What are you doing here?"

"Putting you in your place, apparently."

Andy's head snaps back, eyes narrowing in mounting rage.

"Excuse me?"

Steve cocks his hip, hands on his hips.

"Not until you swear off hunting down submissive wolves, you fucking walnut."

"That isn't what this is, Harrington. Mind your business."

He makes to go around Steve, and finds the older wolf won't let him.

"I told you to back off." And the voice Steve speaks with then, is different.

Weighted.

Steve's wolf is the dominant party here, and he's making Andy feel it.

Andy growls at him, an inhuman sound, eyes darting from Steve, to Jonathan and back.

He's outgunned and he knows it.

Tension grips them all as Andy meets Steve's eyes in challenge, before clearly thinking better of it.

He drops his head, stepping back.

"Fine. But I'm not giving up, Grace. We're doing this, sooner or later."

"My name is Gareth." Munson’s wolf snaps, and Steve knows Jonathan will hold him back if he tries to escalate things,

Submissive has never meant unable to fight, after all.

Steve keeps an eye on Andy as he retreats another step, and it's all too clear he wants a parting shot.

"Now we both know that's not true." He says, and Gareth hisses like a kettle, fury emitting off him in choked waves.

Steve clears his throat in warning--he's done playing here, and no matter how much he hates fighting, his wolf has no such qualms.

Andy's eyes dart to him once more, before he whirls around on a heel and storms back through the school doors.

Right in time to plow through the rest of Hellfire.

"Get out of my way, freaks." Andy spits, shoving his way through.

Will yelps in surprise, caught off guard and off balance, falling back into the lockers with a crash.

His head smashes against metal and he slumps for a moment, stunned.

Mike and Dustin both turn to shout at Andy, Lucas slotting himself to Will's side and trying to get a look at his head.

Behind Steve, Jonathan's eyes go dark.

Munson and Gareth both choke as power floods the parking lot, bloodlust pouring off the elder Byers in waves.

He knifes forward, past Steve, hands blurring in a slurry of shifting muscles and bone until his fingers elongate into sharp, wicked claws.

It's a controlled change, a feat very few can accomplish--and a deadly one, given Jonathan's reacting out of instinct than anything else.

"Jon." Steve calls, power ringing out from his voice.

(Can see, from the corner of his eye how even Munson, the second most dominant wolf present, flinches from it in surprise.

Steve isn't. He might be a trash fighter, too worried about preventing injuries to inflict them, but his wolf doesn't share the same sentiments.

It's not a disconnect. Rather, it's an agreement he has, with his wolf half, and it serves them very well.)

Jonathan freezes, and it's immediately clear by how tense his muscles are that he's not doing it on his own.

That Steve's using his position in the Pack to hold him, magic and Pack bonds pulsing between the two.

"Steve." Jonathan warns, all too calmly.

Steve's wolf doesn't rise to the challenge. Doesn't consider it a challenge, even if most wolves would.

Amber pours into Steve's pupils, the mark of the two halves of a werewolf blending themselves together.

Just as Jonathan did.

"Check on the kids." Steve and his wolf say together.

Jonathan's face twist in a snarl as his body shudders under the command.

"Fine." He says after a beat, and Steve's Pack magic releases its hold.

Jonathan's hands twist again, bloodlust fading from his scent, frantic energy draining from the air like a hole punched into an inflatable pool.

"I'm fine." Will calls out to him, and Steve eases himself back into his own natural state, the threat of Jonathan murdering Andy neutralized.

He turns to check back in on Gareth, and finds the younger wolf has pressed his face hard into Munson's shoulder.

"He okay?" Steve asks.

It's redundant because of course Gareth’s not okay--but that's not the question he's really asking.

What he's asking, is if Eddie has Gareth.

Steve has never quite been sure of Munson’s pack status--he knows some clubs and friendships are closer than others, and many can act similar to how Steve’s own capital P Pack does.

Knows through the kids that Munson runs his group more similar to a proper pack than your normal little high school friend group.

That does not mean Gareth will get the care he needs right now, hunted down like he had been.

"Yeah." Eddie says, understanding relayed in a nod. He turns his gaze to the right of Steve's face, the polite thing to do when two dominant wolves to interact. "Harrington, we need to talk."

It's in a tone that'd normally have Steve's hackles up, but given what's happened, Steve soothes down his wolf.

Follows when Eddie gently pulls away from Gareth, handing him over to a teen Steve is pretty sure is named Jeff before edging Steve away from the crowd.

"Can you tell me what Andy said to him?" Munson asks, and his tone is odd.

Off slightly, like he's trying hard to be extra careful.

Steve chooses not to read into it.

"He called him names. Bitch and baby. Said Gareth shouldn't fight him so hard."

Eddie stares at him then, eyes burning into Steve's own, and Steve's wolf itches under his skin at the audacity of it.

"Anything else?" Eddie demands.

"He said he wasn't hunting, that it wasn't what it was."

Munson frowns. "No, did he call Gareth anything else?"

Steve's dropped the polite urge to keep his eyes averted, now staring dead into Munson's eyes, unable to ignore the direct challenge offered in it.

"He called him Grace, but I figured that was just another insult."

Steve’s voice is clipped. He’s not eager for a fight, particularly not against the guy the kids won’t shut up about, but his wolf is already closer to the surface than it usually is.

Munson stares at him for a moment longer.

"Think you and Johnny boy over there can keep that last bit to yourselves?"

It's too much like a command, a threat of force in Eddie's voice that's backed by hints of his own wolf shoving forward.

The Steve of old would have been downright violent when faced with that.

The Steve of now, the one who'd gone three rounds with the Upside Down; who sat drugged out of his mind in a bathroom while Robin confessed to liking Tammy Thompson and then looked at him like he might kill her for it, keeps himself in place as he looks Munson over.

He’s not imaging it, there is a challenge there--but Steve pauses to think about what he’s being challenged over before he responds.

How Munson isn't so much focused on Andy, as he is on the name he'd called Gareth.

His eyes flick over to find the younger wolf staring right at them.

The guy’s arms are wrapped tightly around the middle, a poorly hidden tremble rolling through his body.

Steve hadn't taken Andy's words at face value but Eddie’s request reframed things in his head, and he’s silent as he works out why, exactly Gareth's name matters so much.

No wonder the kid had drowned himself in that awful, scent neutralizing cologne.

"Yeah. I'll make that happen." Steve agrees, his words heavy with promise.

"Thanks." Eddie inclines his head.

#werewolf au #tw dead naming #transmasc Gareth #eddie munson #steven harrington #protective steve harrington #protective jonathan byers #thems their kids how very dare you #0o0 fanfics #tw warning in that Andy is very clearly pursuing Gary here for bad intentions and while I dont think it comes through as much its that #thing where a guy has something over you and is using threat of force to get it--the threat here being that he'd out Gareth as trans #and generally doesnt see gareth AS trans #oh yeah #protective eddie munson #lol #homie sees Steve fucking pull Jonathan out of a berserker rage with four words and still squares up

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aftgficrec · 5 days

Text

My favorite fics are soft andriel, and teen andriel.

Here’s my recs:

Raised on little light by maqicien

Falling is a lot like drowning by chaoticas_hell

This wasn’t in the prophecy (series) by Arirmis

(Account locked) Raise me up so you can watch me fall by Yes_No_ofcourse

And this last one is angst and dark but I do love it

Hiding scars under exy gear By rinz

Wow, that’s a lot of recs in one submission! Usually we just get one or two 🤣. - S

You can find some of those fics here:

‘Raised on Little Light’ here (since updated)

‘Falling Is A Lot Like Drowning’ here (since updated)

‘Raise me up so you can watch me fall’ here (locked, now complete)

This wasn’t in the prophecy by Arirmis [Rated T/M, 73294 words, incomplete, last updated Feb 2024]

Percy Jackson AU where all of the foxes are demigods, Andrew meets Neil shortly after his mom dies, and joins him on the run instead of going back to camp. Part one spans from their first meeting to their first kiss; Part two will take place a few years later, when certain circumstances force them to return to camp, and Andrew has to deal with what he left behind, on top of their current problem. While both fics should be able to be read individually, it does make more sense if you read them in order :)

Part 1: Cross your fingers, here we go (T, 25037 words, complete)

Millport is a horrible, dry as fuck little town in the vast nothingness of the dust hole that is Arizona, and Andrew hates it with vigor. He has been tracking a horde of Manticores for weeks now, and isn’t that something? A half-blood having to chase after the monsters. He is starting to feel like one of Renee’s hunters, when Andrew is pretty sure the nasty scorpion-cats should want to kill him more then he wants to kill them. Or, Andrew expected to find all sorts of things on his first quest. He didn’t expect a twitchy, blue-eyed half-blood with monsters on his heels, and he surely didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: child neglect, tw: assumed character death

Part 2: Mortal Bodies, Timeless Souls (M, 48257 words, incomplete)

„Minyard! Get your ass up and put some armor on! Abby, Greene, get the infirmary in shape, border control just spotted a motherfucking Drakon in the woods!“ As if Wymack’s order triggered it, a ear grating screech echoes all the way to the big house. The camp counselor curses. „Move it people, there are half-bloods out there that need to get to safety!“ Or, for two and a half years, Aaron has been grieving the brother he buried, only to learn now, that Andrew is very much alive. He also has a scarred little shithead in tow, that Aaron wants to punch in the face regularily. Life is fun like that.

tw: blood, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: child neglect, tw: assumed character death, tw: vomit

Hiding scars (under exy gear) by rinz [Rated M, 34309 words, incomplete, last updated March 2024]

Juggling a mobster serial killer household and high school is harder than Neil had anticipated. and that goth kid on the roof really needs to mind his own business. OR a high school AU where neil and mary never run from nathan and neil meets the foxes in private high school instead.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: imlied/referenced torture, tw: graphic violence

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emry-stars-art · 10 months

Note

tell us about the royals au!!! (im on my knees. please.)

Ohhhhh my friend you have started me on a RANT I hope you’re ready!!!

I don’t know that I’ll ever actually write it so I’m not too worried about spoilers, and the wonderful people in my dms (which are still open btw) bouncing ideas with me are always going to come up with great ideas so I’m putting WIP in big red letters, things are subject to change! But for now, some ideas. Most of what I have will be under the cut, but if you want to know more about a specific part/have any questions please I’d love to chat :D will link to the art/posts I have so far!

(In this au I’ve been referring to Neil as Nathaniel at first and then Abram (hello names as a plot device), and everyone else right now is some version of their name)

Kevin and Nathaniel were raised at Evermore castle, Kevin to be in direct competition to Riko/see which of them might claim the throne (not thought out yet), and Nathaniel as the Moriyama’s attack dog, born and raised to take his father’s place as such. The two never met in person, but Nathaniel knows and recognizes Day because of course he does, and Day knows the name Wesninski means a very, very dangerous person. Essentially the top assassin on the continent.

But as we do, Day decides he can’t/won’t handle the treatment anymore, whatever the last straw may be, and runs off to Palmetto in a kind of desperate chase of the stories his mother used to tell him when he was little. He knew she loved that kingdom. Somehow he finds Wymack - the twin’s royal advisor - or Wymack finds him, and once Wymack realizes who this kid is and has reason to believe he’s not here on Evermore business, he puts Day’s incredible talent and training as a tactician/commander to work as his pupil.

Meanwhile Nathaniel is still at Evermore, mistreated and learning from his own failures and mistakes until he’s nearly as good as his father at the family business.

I don’t know how long Nathaniel plans it, but he either plays the part for long enough or his skill is so undeniable that when the Moriyamas have plans for the Palmetto Kingdom, they send him and one other accomplished fighter to kill the king. Nathaniel goes quietly and decides he’s not coming back if he can help it.

So instead of killing the young king, Nathaniel’s panic has him turn on his partner at the very last second, stopping them just before they can get to the king. He takes them somewhere far away and does what he does best, leaving no one to report back to the Moriyamas. From then on it’s a waiting game to see how long the family will wait before they send someone after him.

Day’s followed them, and Nathaniel turns around from the body and sees this man he hasn’t seen in years, alive and safe away from Evermore. It’s as elating as it is crushing - because Day heard his partner call him by name, and there is no way Day will ever let a Wesninski walk away alive. Not if he knows what’s good for all of them.

Except Day doesn’t kill him, even when Nathaniel asks him to. (Better Day than Riko, Nathaniel knew that even when they were all stuck at Evermore). Instead, he takes Nathaniel back to the twins/Wymack, gives him a little bread, and they sit until he can pry out an explanation. (See the comic of this first meeting here.)

Day and Nathaniel spend most of their time together because Day refuses to let Nathaniel out of his or Wymack’s sight until he proves not a threat to the royal family, which proves an issue because between Andrew’s rotation of personal guards (he never gets along with them well enough that they stay/aren’t fired) Day is Andrew’s guard, which sometimes means Nathaniel is stuck a lot closer than Day would like. But after a long, long time, Day and Wymack decide Nathaniel was serious about the whole “runaway” thing and isn’t playing spy (maybe there’s some dramatic event/Nathaniel protecting a twin that convinces them or maybe it’s just a lot of little things over time). Andrew, after a rough spat with the latest guard, is again in need of a new one. Finally Day just asks “is there ANYONE you could possibly pretend to get along with that can do the job” and Andrew knows Nathaniel is dangerous he just doesn’t know exactly how or why (but oh he is curious) so maybe he just straight up says. “Wesninski.” And Day has to go “…. Fine.”

So boom. They knew each other superficially before, but now Andrew and Nathaniel are spending most of their time together and miraculously - no arguments. No spats. Day thanks the gods there’s no physical altercations (that’s probably what got the last guard fired so quick). Nathaniel is just a mystery with shady ability to tell the truth and Andrew can’t help his curiosity. Good old fashioned andreil :D

From here the timeline becomes essentially nonexistent, I have no idea when these things happen in relation to each other but so far they’re all things I like and want to include!

1) there’s plenty of games and competitions at Palmetto, we love a good tussle, and Nathaniel usually does quite well - he’s not good at playing fair, but his underhanded methods are not technically illegal and usually he can use his preferred weapon - dagger rather than sword. He does well except for the one time an opponent accidentally says/does something that was constantly said or done to Nathaniel while “training” at Evermore, and he comes back to Andrew and the tent he watched from in the beginning of a panic attack. Andrew doesn’t know anything about Nathaniel’s past at this point, but he knows a panic attack when he sees one. In trying to talk him through it, Andrew realizes that yes Nathaniel is scared of being hurt, but he’s more afraid of hurting others. Nathaniel won’t let Andrew call him by name, he flinches every time Andrew says it. After, Andrew asks what he should call him instead, and Nathaniel finally asks to be called Abram.

2) Balls! Masquerades! Abram doesn’t have many outfits, he wears the regular issued uniform to every event. Andrew will not stand for this. Abram always wears clothes that cover him fully, which is fine, Andrew can work with that. He’s still seen Abram in a tight shirt or two. So he commissions one of the most knowledgeable people in the court (we’re thinking it might be Allison, she’s a noble but she’s great with textiles/embroidery/etc) and gets Abram a new outfit. It still covers him, its still protective material, but it looks better. (Find Abram in a corset here). Andrew handles it totally normal and rational in his head when he sees Abram actually wearing it of course.

3) Day probably assumes for a little while that Andrew and Abram have got a more or less normal guard/charge relationship, even thinking it’s slightly antagonistic considering this is Andrew we’re talking about. (This doesn’t fit the timeline, but here’s a mini comic of one of Day’s misunderstandings hehe)

4) king Aaron! He became king at 18/20/whatever age we decide this universe deems old enough because he is in fact the elder twin here. I imagine their parents have both been dead and gone for at least a few years at this point. Dan is Aaron’s guard and she and Abram hit it off great as coworkers and friends. More on the uncertainty of the twins backstory later. (Drawings of Aaron and his queen Katelyn here!)

5) the angst. The Moriyamas should have heard from the Wesninski boy months ago - something somewhere went wrong. So, naturally, they go to collect their property. If they get away with it, we can imagine how it goes. What I don’t know is if the twins, Day, and Wymack know for sure he was kidnapped or if they have a little nagging in the back of their head that wonders if he’s only run away from the castle or if he’s run back to Evermore with everything he’s learned.

When he’s recovered, Day doesn’t let Andrew too close too often for a while. If Abram forgets where is for even a second too long - waking up from a nightmare, having a flashback - it’s long enough for it to be fatal to whoever might get too close to Abram. It’s already almost proved fatal for Andrew, after Abram played normal so well that Andrew let it slip - he forgot Abram was taken back to Evermore for them to finish making him into a thoughtless weapon, and they’d nearly succeed. He wakes Abram too quickly and ends up extremely lucky Abram recognizes both his voice and the way Andrew didn’t call him ‘Nathaniel’ or ‘Wesninski’. There’s really a huge amount to possibly be covered about this point so I won’t go into detail here - but if you like hurt/comfort you know where to find me 👀

6) the biggest thing we haven’t figured out is Andrew. Either he was kidnapped at a young age and only recovered in his teens, or the elder King Minyard didn’t much care for his second son. Though I’ve always liked the idea of Mr. Minyard being a good man who died shortly before the twins’ birth and their mother just couldn’t handle the grief or knowing that the twins look like him. Anyway a lot of the twins’ issues after both of their parents are dead are the advisors or other people around them that try to take advantage of their youth and inexperience for their own gain, without realizing that both Aaron and Andrew have had to grow up much too fast, each for their own reasons. They can usually see right past the tricks. It’s why they both trust Wymack so much - he’s one of the few adults that are truly there to help them, and not make decisions for them.

Im sure there’s more I missed, but this is long enough as it is lol. People have asked about the Trojans/Jean in this au, and I’d love to include them! My brain’s instinctive response is that Jeremy is some sort of high end noble/royal of a faraway kingdom, and Jean (always last to leave the nest, im so sorry baby) somehow gets over there, but I don’t have an idea of his or anyone else’s roles yet. Renee could even still have a hand in him getting there if we really want.

So I’m still writing snippets and drawing over here lol but i promise I don’t bite if you want to talk :D

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