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bananakarenina · 9 months

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Is it rude to ask for 19 and Willex because like...

first of all. YES RUDE. second of all, OW.

can't give you my soul

to be fair: willie doesn't see alex coming.

or, well. alex doesn't see him coming, literally, but willie really really doesn't.

he notices, of course, that alex is cute. hello, he has eyes. but he spends one day. one freaking day with alex mercer, and he he--

he hasn't felt like this in--

well, ever.

and maybe that's why everything goes down the way it does. willie just wants to spend more days with alex, and he wants caleb to approve--of alex, yes, but also of willie, and they tangle up into a big, soul-destroying mess.

willie is pretty sure that alex is his soulmate.

well, he would be, if willie still had his soul.

willie got in too deep--in too deep with caleb, and he couldn't see the warning signs; he couldn't see he was in danger until danger was his whole world.

and he's definitely in too deep with alex.

alex, who is golden and bright and funny and possibly the most genuine person willie has ever met. alex, who willie has never seen play the drums but who he knows must be fucking amazing because willie has seen alex let go and yell in a museum and it was the most beautiful thing willie had ever seen in his afterlife.

at first willie just wanted alex around all the time. he wanted to spend every day with him, but he fell and fell hard and then it became: i need to save him. even if i never see him again, i need to save him.

willie wasn't even thinking about himself. self-preservation wasn't really one of his strong suits, even when he was alive. and he knows how caleb operates. he knows he can take it; it won't be fun but at least it's what he knows.

luckily for him: he didn't see alex mercer coming.

after all of it, after everything--after the ghost club is in sparkling ruin, after caleb covington has been defeated and julie molina is singing her triumphant victory song, and somehow, willie's mark is gone--willie just sits in the wreckage and stares in awe.

alex is pounding away at his drumset and willie was right; he's amazing, he's a ray of light, and willie's in love.

willie is in love and he's allowed to be--his soul is like, alight with promise for the first time in his entire life--and afterlife, for that matter.

the song ends and there's cheering and willie's feet are flying like he's on his board but he's not, he just--wants to be next to alex. that's it, that's all.

"you saved me," he says, when he gets onstage. alex is looking at him in awe, which doesn't seem right. it should be the other way around.

"well, yeah," alex says, sheepish, ducking his head. "i was never not going to come back for you."

and that's. well, that's not something willie had ever considered. that's not something he's ever heard before, another thing he didn't see coming, and there's this blinding blank moment of pure light and he's pitching forward and he's in alex's arms and he's kissing alex, they're kissing finally finally finally

and it feels like flying. feels better than any trick he's ever done on his board, feels like the wind in his hair and the sun in his--in his very soul.

when they break apart, alex's bandmates are whooping and there's an audience cheering but all willie can see is the flush on alex's cheeks and for the first time in a long, long time, deep in his very soul--

willie feels alive.

#yes okay!#willex #willie x alex #willie jatp #canon-compliant ish?#julie and the phantoms #ask games #prompt games

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lilyoffandoms · 3 months

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Wake the Dead

I do so love a complete set! There is something so pleasing about it!

My Art ish Tag: @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma

WtD Tag: I know you’ve seen this but tagging you anyway @jerzwriter

#playchoices #<-dare i use the main tag #😬#choices wtd #my art ish thing #i polish nothing #sets give me such complete joy and utter contentment #content warning #canon compliant warnings #zombie cw

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thebreakfastgenie · 1 year

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Would the Men of the 4077th Buy Pads/Tampons?

Hawkeye: He would but he'd text you ten times to make sure he had the right kind.

Trapper: He would buy the wrong brand, but ones that would work and he'd be so earnest you'd forgive him.

Henry: He would buy dinner napkins instead of sanitary napkins. You don't want to know what he'd buy instead of tampons.

Frank: He would ask why you can't just hold it. Absolutely thinks tampons are sex toys.

Radar: He would faint if he stepped foot in the "feminine hygiene" aisle.

Margaret: She would give you some of hers and also a mildly judgmental lecture about always being prepared.

Klinger: Absolutely yes and he finds the right ones on the first try.

Mulcahy: He keeps a stash but they're the worst store-brand ones.

BJ: He would get a little flustered finding the right brand so he takes a while but he also grabs some of your favorite candy on the way out.

Potter: He would call for the nearest woman to help.

Charles: He would just pay someone else to go get them for you.

#this is canon compliant (ish) so assuming they're all cis #however it's funny to think trans radar would still faint wiefguewyfwe #yes I know it says men and includes margaret. what about it.#mashposting

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brighterdaysarebeforeus · 10 months

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So, this turned out to be a lot longer than I was expecting it to be, so like…now in parts!! I guess this can count as part one. Hopefully I can get a second part up soon, if people are interested…

When Miles celebrated his thirteenth birthday, it started with his mamí waking him up for a birthday breakfast, a (relatively) small block party that lasted the entire day, sparklers for all the children to mess around with, lots of cake and presents, and ended with him starting a three day rut.

It isn’t exactly surprising that Miles turned out to be an alpha; even though parental designation doesn’t particularly matter (his amma and appa, for example, are both betas and they ended up having one alpha son and one omega one), his dad is still an alpha. Once Miles’s rut is done, there’s another (relatively) small block party where everyone congratulated Jeff and Rio (even though Miles was the one who had spent three days in bed, sweating profusely and hovering protectively over a small collection of monos and priceless collectibles) and Miles over his presentation, and then it’s off to school.

If Miles thought that presenting as an alpha would change things in regards to schooling, he’s dead wrong. Not only do his parents insist on him going to Visions Academy now, they pile more expectations on him than he knows what to do with. It’s like, now that he’s presented as an alpha, they can add more pressure on him because he’s meant to hold it together now. They want him to succeed in Visions academically (when all he wants to do is go back to public school with his friends and not these people he barely has anything in common with), they want him to be a model alpha (despite the fact that he barely wanted to be one in the first place, and all the alphas he’s interacted with at school are…kind of jerks, like the security guard always on him and some of the boys in his physed class), and they want him to be a model son (even though they’re the ones pushing him further and further away by never even listening to what he wants when he talks to them).

The only time he doesn’t feel immense pressure is when he’s with his uncle, so he sneaks out when he gets the chance to go and hang out there for a couple of hours. Uncle Aaron listens to him vent and lets him hit the punching bag a couple of times to let off steam, and doesn’t try to push any kind of agenda on him. He offers advice and by the time Miles gets back to Visions, he usually feels better.

So he makes it a thing; every couple of months or so, usually after spending three days in the nurse’s office, Miles makes his way to his uncle.

The last time Miles went over, they went through the subway and Miles let out some frustration in a more artistic manner than normal; this also happens to be when he gets his Spider bite, and while he doesn’t think anything of it at the time, it definitely opens new doors (portals) for him. At the very least, the whole portal debacle only lasts a couple of days, at the most, even if it was an interesting couple of days.

(When Gwen admitted to being an alpha as well, Miles did feel his heart flutter a little. He’d thought she was cool and pretty, and even though his mamí is an omega, both of her parents were alphas so it wasn’t like Miles didn’t have a chance. If, you know, he could manage to shoot his shot without messing up.

Peter B., as Miles had taken to calling him to differentiate from his original Peter, had looked at them bemusedly while admitting he was a beta. Noir just looked confused about the entire dynamic, and Peni had designations but hadn’t presented yet? She mentioned turning out as a beta because both of her parents were, which Miles found interesting. Ham apparently, surprisingly, didn’t have designations at all. It was an interesting couple of days for Miles.)

The point of the matter was, Miles got his designation and his bite around the same time, or close enough that it didn’t particularly matter, except.

Except.

“Mijo, por qué estás tan chiquitito?” His tía pinched his cheek, frowning in concern as she looked him over. Miles had just seen her last week, and she’d asked the same thing then too, so he wasn’t quite sure what to say aside from an awkward chuckle. She leaned back, yelling into the kitchen. “Rio, did you listen to what I said to you the other day? About helping Miles?”

“I heard, I heard!” Rio called back, appearing in the doorway so she didn’t have to yell over the music coming from the living room. “He can’t bulk up so quickly, Maggie, things like that take time, you know?”

“Sí, sí, lo entiendo, pero Jeff — ”

“Yes, but Miles isn’t Jeff, Maggie — ”

“Anyway!” Miles said brightly, giving her a kiss on the cheek, “it was great seeing you, Tía Maggie, but I’ve gotta just — ”

“Oyé, Miles,” his tía called after him, “make sure you drink those protein shakes, yes? I’ll give your mother some more!”

“Ok, tía!” Miles ducked past a couple of the girls from the block, twisted around several of his cousins, and escaped into the comfort of his room. His mamí would be irritated at his hiding out, for sure, but every single time there was a get together or a block party, they were like this. Tía Maggie with her protein shakes. Tío Luís with his constant offers to take Miles to the gym with him to work out. Matteo with his playful wrestling, as if the more he put Miles in a headlock, the buffer he would get trying to break out of it. Miles had to go easy on his cousins all the time, Matteo and Tomás and all the other alphas who were big and buff like his dad was because he didn’t want to hurt them with his Spider strength.

It was exhausting, and Miles had to deal with it every time he came home from Visions. It was hard; he’d tried to listen to his tías, but the protein powders they recommended tasted gross, and while the diets were easy to follow, his Spider metabolism meant he couldn’t follow the diets for long lest Spider Man fall unconscious during a fight. He’d tried exercising more, with his cousins and his tíos, but he never seemed to bulk up the way he should. His added strength gave him an advantage, but it wasn’t doing anything for the amount of muscle mass Miles was “supposed” to have.

In a fit of desperation, Miles had even turned to May and asked her if Peter ever had any issues with his designation, only to find that the man had been a beta before his death. He could theoretically ask Gwen, or maybe Peni if she’d manage to present yet, except he couldn’t exactly teleport to other dimensions to ask them. He didn’t even have a way to get in contact with them, which was the more frustrating part because he had no one to talk to about this. Nobody who knew how to be an alpha and a Spider at the same time, at least.

And then his dad’s promotion. And Gwen’s arrival.

#punkflower #punkflower endgame #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #canon compliant #ish #miles morales #rio morales #original characters #mentions of part one spider crew #mentioned Gwen Stacy #part one

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lihhelsing · 2 months

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Bring me back

A/N: I wrote this in one go and I have no idea where it's going or even if it's going somewhere. So it's more of a half fleshed out idea than anything. CW: Angst, mentions of grief, MCD (but it's temporary, in the big scheme of things). Steddie | 1.4k words | Angst | Rated M

Steve knows he shouldn’t be here. He could hear the sounds coming from downstairs and he was pretty positive that meant dinner was going to be ready any minute.

He was pretty sure he was gonna be summoned any minute.

And maybe he was hiding, but who could blame him?

Steve always thought that if he checked enough of his boxes by the time he was approaching 30, he would be happy. All the sadness of the past would stay in the past, and like everyone kept telling him: Time heals all wounds.

So he crawled out of hell when he was 19 and he made sure hell wouldn’t follow him.

He made sure everything stayed in the past like it was supposed to.

His birthday is coming up in two weeks and Steve is doing good. He is doing great, actually. Minus the part where he shut down every meaningful relationship he ever had because he couldn’t handle dealing with all the bad memories.

He talks to Robin on the phone sometimes, and she’s not even mad at him anymore. She’s… Resigned. She knows Steve loves her, of course he does. How could he not love her?

But looking at her… It hurts. So Steve pulled away, and Robin let him because she figured it would be best for him.

When they talk, they don’t talk about that. Don’t talk about him.

Steve is doing great.

But he is organizing his office because he read somewhere that making a big cleanout before a new cycle is supposedly good for him and Steve needed things to be good. And that’s how he ended up with the box.

He had forgotten about it. The box was hidden on a shelf that he never looked in his office and it had a coat of dust in it like it hadn’t been touched in ages. He knew he hadn't touched it in ages.

He doesn’t know what makes him do it now.

The box is not exactly what he remembers. There are a few old pictures that make his chest ache in a bad way. In a way that means he would do anything to turn back time and fix it.

He’d completely forgotten about how all he wanted to do was fix it.

His fingers move through the box, touching all the different textures of the stuff inside. There’s something cold and sharp and it takes him a second to remember it’s a medal he won, even if he didn’t consider himself a hero. He considered himself a fucking joke, but he had stood there with a fake smile plastered on his face knowing full well that this was the proudest his parents had ever been of him.

There are a few plastic figurines and underneath it all he touches the long necklace that found its way into this box, somehow. Steve doesn’t remember how exactly because he remembers Dustin holding on to it and he remembers him giving it to Wayne.

And now that he’s thinking about it again, he remembers Wayne sliding it into Steve’s pocket when he thought Steve wasn’t looking.

His chest hurts again and it’s filled with guilt now, and he urges himself to close the box and put it back because this is tearing him apart piece by piece. It’s breaking him slowly and he had just spent the last 11 years trying to stay in one piece. It's too much time for him to throw away in a few seconds and because of a few trinkets.

It’s useless because his hands start to move again before his brain can understand the command. He touches something else. It’s a rectangular thing. Hard. Rough on one side and smooth on the other.

When Steve pulls it out, he sees it for what it is. An old cassette player. One that didn’t belong to him but no one else wanted it, so he took it.

There are no tapes in the box and Steve has no idea when was the last time he saw cassette tapes, but he soon finds another box filled to the brim with it.

None of them are to Steve’s taste.

He grabs the first one and it’s a DIO tape. Holy Diver. It’s old and dusty and Steve doesn’t even think it’s going to play. He still puts it on.

In the background, he can hear footsteps on the stairs and he knows he’s running out of time. Knows she’s gonna chide him for being covered in dust right before dinner. She will tell him he’s doing it on purpose because her parents are coming to dinner tonight and they are gonna need to tell them their pregnancy didn’t work out again.

It’s the third time and she’s gonna tell Steve she can’t take this anymore and Steve won’t know what to say because he also can’t take any of this anymore but he doesn’t know how to change things. Doesn’t know how to not be stuck in an unhappy marriage, with no friends and an infinite regret list.

So he listens closely to the static sounds coming from the tape and there’s something so nostalgic about it that it makes his chest hurts again. Even if the tape doesn’t play, Steve feels like this could–

Oh there it is, Steve thinks. He hears Dio’s voice and feels something shift around him. He closes his eyes, hands holding tightly to the cassette player. His stomach drops like it does when he dreams about falling.

And then, it feels like he’s falling, indeed. He tries opening his eyes but everything is black and all he can hear is the song playing and he can’t tell if he’s dreaming or not.

Steve’s whole body spasms and he kicks his feet and closes his eyes and everything stops. Not the song, though. The song is still playing.

He opens his eyes and he’s lying in bed and he wonders if this was all a weird dream. It wouldn’t be the first, but Steve’s been taking some meds that prevent him from dreaming because he couldn’t sleep knowing he would see his face.

The song is still blasting in his ears and the room is dark until his eyes start getting used to it. He looks around and… This is not his room.

It’s not his room and he might be dreaming again and maybe he forgot to take his meds tonight because he knows this room. Knows it like the palm of his hand. Knows it even after 11 years without seeing it.

He knows every place the paint is chirped. Knows how the posters on the wall are unglued at the corners. He could get up with his eyes closed and walk through the room without ever bumping into anything, no matter how messy it was. Because he knows this room and he knows the person it belongs to.

Steve should will himself awake. But he never dreams about this room. He never dreams with so much detail and precision. It’s like nothing has changed in 11 years. Like he's walking right through a time machine.

He hears noises outside and he thinks this is it. He thinks his wife is about to open the door and wake him up from this dream and he wants to hold on to it as long as he can, so he shuts his eyes.

��Steve? What are you doing?”

His head must be really fucked up from all the times he got hit because even the voice sounds–

“Open your eyes, Steve.”

He does it because he can’t believe it. His brain must be playing tricks on him and once he looks at her he will know it’s all a dream. But when he opens his eyes... He’s there.

It’s impossible. It’s absolutely crazy. DIO is still blasting and he’s right there and Steve thinks he’s gonna faint.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t know what to say. Knows his words will get caught up in his throat. He swallows and his Adam’s Apple bobs up and down.

He stares. And he keeps staring, afraid to blink. He’s afraid that moving will make it disappear. Will make him disappear. And Steve can’t handle losing him.

Not again.

“Sweetheart, you’re scaring me.”

And that does it. It snaps Steve out of his trance and he gets up in one swift motion, closing the distance between them, and then he’s touching. He’s burying his face in his neck and inhaling him in and he smells like cigarettes and leather, just like Steve remembers.

Steve feels arms wrapping around his waist and when he pulls back he stares into Eddie Munson’s face, and he has no idea how because Eddie has been dead for 11 years but this? This is real.

#I love myself a good plot twist #I've been thinking about time traveling triggered by music #and how well it fits here #steddie #fix it #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #canon compliant #ish #time travel #stranger things

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minusboy · 2 months

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happy march 15th, to celebrate i offer you this. read here.

#the tragic yaois return #NOT another au this time can you believe #well kinda is #i mean it's canon compliant-ish..? so that counts...?#...yk what i give up #skk fic #skk fanfic #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bsd

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blarrghe · 4 months

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The Hunter, the Snake, and the Fox

M | No Warnings Apply | M/M | Pavellan | Canon-Divergent

Summary:

When Magister Dorian Pavus' expedition meets unexpectedly with a clan of unhappy Dalish elves, First Taren Lavellan may be the unhappiest among them. Unhappier still to be put to the task of helping to see his quest through. This is the tale of how a fortnight in the forests of the Free Marches can change everything.

Notes:

This is a canon-divergent, enemies-to-lovers tragedy. I'm just gonna say that last bit once. Set in a canon-compliant Thedas where the Breach/Inquisition simply never happened. Other game-typical politics and prejudices are intact.

This is also a first for me in that this fic is already finished, and I will be updating weekly! Consistency! Wow!

Ch. 1/26: Master Pavus

Snippet:

The dawn rose misty. Soft brushes of pale white fog hung low in the air, painting the forest floor in a glittery dew. Rays of watery yellow echoed through the slats between trees in a faded memory of sunlight. It was quiet. The blue-grey soaked cushion of a cluttered forest floor insulated the small clearing where Dorian's company had made their camp. Only a few faint birds chirped, calling out desperate, lost calls in a farewell to summer.

Dorian Pavus woke damp in his tent, cursing the chill.

DAFF tage list: @warpedlegacy @rakshadow @rosella-writes @effelants @bluewren @breninarthur @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb @theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisustheweee @agentkatie @delicatefade

#I'm finally posting ittttttttt #pavellan #my writing #my fic #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfic #da:i #dorian pavus #dorian x lavellan #clan lavellan #enemies to lovers #canon divergent au #but also canon compliant ish? very much in the DA universe for a change #the hunter the snake and the fox #I'm so exciteedddddd

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andrea-lyn · 29 days

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Footballers do stupid shit all the time. It's not like Roy's special. It's just that maybe his brand of stupid is a step above the rest, because most footballers don't get hitched to Jamie Tartt when they're young, drunk and stupid and then have to live with the fact that said marriage is a whole lot more complicated than he's prepared for and that maybe, it's just easier being divorced. (It's not, but Roy's going to pretend it is)

Chapter 1/3 is up! This whole fic literally just exists bc of Blame Brett and my need to make Roy & Jamie ex-husbands before canon even starts. Enjoy!

#roy/jamie #ted lasso fic #ted lasso #canon compliant (ish)#divorced roy/jamie #angst with a happy ending

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basilibino · 1 month

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Season 8 was like 6 years ago(I feel old) and I know ppl have differing opinions on the Mr Echo thing (but it was intended, made it to storyboard and blocked animation and then dropped, soooo) but. I can see his recruitment p easily tbh. Bc the whole reason Dr J was in that lighthouse was because he was resurrected, forced there, and ordered to build Skulkin vehicles by Samukai. But Samukai in the flashback we see has already been deposed as leader of the Skulkin/Underworld. Which means the orders to do so most likely came from Garmadon.

And since Mr. E is one of the head honchos, he's likely an early arrival to the team, so I don't think Harumi has a whole lot figured out at this point, she's just got her Trauma and some Bad Influence Friends and an obsession with Lord Garmadon. So. Like. Plausible deniability road trip that she's just visiting important markers of Ninjago's recent past, all of which involve Lord Garmadon in some meaningful way; its sightseeing, its cathartic, and it gives her time to develop her dream Motorcycle Gang/Resurrection Cult. She's not looking for anyone at the Lighthouse, but she is looking for vehicle blueprints so she can be the Koolest leader on the block. But oops she looks in the basement and there's an Echo.

And she's flipping out bc??? A Ninja???? In the Lighthouse basement??? I mean it makes sense that it would be this one but???

Except this rusty old robot has no idea what she's talking about with this Ninja stuff, he's just waiting for his dad to come back.

And Harumi pauses.

Because how long has he been waiting? He's not sure, he had no proper way to measure time in the basement, and he doesn't have the best view of his clockwork heartpiece. But it was after his father saw a strange ship docking; Echo was worried it was the People who had locked up his father in the first place, but instead his dad sounded happy when he saw whoever was out there. It could have been a front, though, as clearly it was never safe to let Echo back out. Then Dr J popped down briefly, while everyone above was resting, to tell Echo he was desperately needed elsewhere, that it wasn't safe to bring Echo, but that he'd be back in no time.

And the pieces are fitting together for Harumi. And she's like. Your dad's dead, bro.

And he's like. What? Did he die doing what was needed of him?

And she's like. Oh, no. He died a few years later.

And he's like. Why didn't he come back for me????

And she's like. Probably because they kept him away.

And he's like. Who's they?

And she's like. The Ninja I was talking about earlier.

And it surely can't be hard in universe to find pictures of Zane and Dr J post s2-pre s3, so she pulls one up and shows Echo who is freaking out bc why is that one kind of like him and Harumi explains that that was the droid his father created first, that he became a Ninja, and that hes probably the one who took their father away and kept echo waiting for years.

But Echo has doubts, shocked as he is abt a new older brother, he wants to believe the good in the situation so he's unsure. But Harumi mentions that the Ninja's failures to uphold more than their self preservation/interests has led to uncountable losses and devastation in Ninjago time and time again, before delving into her own story. And she seems so kind, and so hurt, and I do think there's a genuine connection btwn these two that forms from this shared emotional torment that they decide came from the Ninja, and now Echo is more receptive.

And then Harumi gets to start her Garmadon pitch because wait! If Echo was made here, then that could only have happened because of Lord Garmadon. And she reiterates that he's the reason she and her city could have even survived The Great Devourer. And maybe Echo's family-by-creation left, maybe they were untrustworthy and lacking, but that's OK bc if you look at it all a certain way, Garmadon is more of a father to Echo than Dr J was. And Echo is a vulnerable, overwhelmed mess who just found out his dad fucked off for years without him and also died, and also he has a brother??? Who their dad clearly seems to have favored??? Did they even know about Echo??? Did they delight in their life free of him???

Basically. Kinda Spinel-core but getting abandoned and left completely alone does that to you. Especially when the first person to find you after being abandoned is a deeply hurt and misguided teen who is probably kinda desperate for someone, anyone else to see the Ninja the way she sees them.

#i was thinking abt the idea of citrusshipping #and how it could have flowed into Mr Echo. with morro as the vengeful influence tinting these #one sided experiences to associate ninja with loss #but theni was like 'wait a sec tho bc Harumi does that also and its her gang called the sons of garmadon #and if youre very carfeully squinting and cherrypicking out pesky details and nuance. like harumi would be.#echos existence is thanks to Lord Garmadon. and there is no better replacement dad than garmadon. you should be a son of garmadon.#and echo would probably listen and she could get him out the lighthouse and off the island'#and anyway i kinda ship Harumi and Echo now?#i like citrusshipping its funney but i think i actually ship this dynamic now #its. fucked and manipulative but its also like. genuine and just. two scarred young people and harumi gives echo her distorted view #of the world as the gift of her love #so its like she wasnt trying to manipulate echo. not like she was trying to manipulate Lloyd.#but she did take someone in a v fragile state and begin shaping his worldview to match hers. unconciously but still done.#like i can also see her bringing him to the mainland and she and UV and Killow are his tethers which means everything he sees radicalizes #him further...and draws him in closer to the fold #anyway if he and harumi smoochie kiss then shes why he got rebuilt in Crystallized. also i think mr F stands for 'Mr Fun Guy'#echo zane #harumi jade #ninjago harumi #quietmystery?#idk what the ship name would be but im here for it #mr e ninjago #mr echo #echo/harumi #tbh i said i kinda ship it now but it could also be friendship #sons of garmadon #...ok til abt the morro-echo-harumi trio hcs and Yes #this is just more of a like. canon compliant ish take where morro is still gone from the narrative #love the idea of the 3 in a vengeance trio tho

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blondiest · 16 days

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honestly i find it far easier to answer questions about specific stories i've written than to answer questions about canon, bc i spend most of my time writing canon divergence of various flavors. i make an effort to base my characterizations off of my understanding of canon, but there is by necessity some extrapolation taking place in basically everything i've ever written.

#the singular exception would i guess be shot in the dark. that might be the only canon-compliant (ish. lmao. ishhhhh)#thing i've ever written #and by “canon compliant” i mean “technically doesn't violate canon in any way”#tbc i do not imagine that universe proceeding in the same direction as canon but listen. that's neither here nor there #blondiepost

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rjhpandapaws · 2 years

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A Place to Rest Weary Wings

Guess who isnt dead. Tw: for neglect of health, and staying up longer than is healthy.

The first time Charon ever saw Hermes was when the winged god had brought Persephone to the gates of the Underworld. He had known to expect Persephone, she was the whole reason Nyx had sent him to the Temple in one of the rare times that there were no souls waiting to be ferried to their fates. They both moved under her enchanted darkness, so he found it safe to assume they were both seeking sanctuary here. They were much too alive for this place. Persephone had light blue flowers in her hair and similar flowers were blooming all around her from where her bare feet rested on the ground. He hadn’t known his name then, but he was struck that a god with wings so brightly colored in hues of gold that they seemed to be gifts from Helios himself; would seek shelter in a place like this. It seemed wrong somehow, for such light to be buried in this place. He did not step forward with Persephone when she crossed the threshold of the gates, which left Charon with some lingering confusion. Instead, he lingered long enough to see her safely board the boat, then he was gone in a gust of wind and golden light. Charon wanted to see him again, but shelved that feeling. He had a job to do, the last thing he wanted to do was let his mother down.

When the winter first started, he and Thanatos were the only ones suspicious of it. Too many mortals were dying from the cold. According to Thanatos there was almost a maliciousness to it. This freeze was more than just a changing of the seasons that Hades was trying so hard to make it out to be. Charon couldn’t ask as he wasn’t formerly permitted in the House; as well as the fact that he lacked the vocal structure necessary to speak the hybrid of Chthonic and Greek that had become the language of the House. Thanatos didn’t have any luck finding answers either. Whatever was happening in the House had something to do with the sinister cold of the surface, and Hades was being particularly tight lipped about both. Persephone came to him again, this time with his mother at her side. The life had been in her eyes when she first arrived here was muted by intense sadness and grief. A mix of emotions that was oddly enough mirrored in his mother’s usually stoic eyes when she would glance at Persephone. She did not bother to hide it from her voice when she spoke to him. He had no one to tell of her moment of weakness. It wasn’t a show of trust exactly, but as close to it as Nyx was able.

“Charon, my child,” She said, “Please return Persephone to the surface. She wishes to return home. Her guide will be waiting for her at the gates. Move quickly and speak of this to no one.” He hummed his acknowledgement and turned back toward the boat. There was nothing he needed to prepare, it was simply to give them something akin to privacy in their last moments together. He only turned back when the ferry rocked with the motion of Persephone stepping onto it. She gave him an awkward but kind smile and he pretended not to notice the drop of Darkness she had cradled to her chest. The trip to the Temple was quiet on his end. His voice, if it really could be called such, was unsettling to most. And Persephone seemed well enough occupied in her attempts to reason herself out of asking him to turn back. When the gates open he is surprised to find the same winged god from before. He is once again shrouded in divine darkness but still looking over his shoulder as though he expected to be spotted. They wouldn’t be, given that they were under Nyx’s protection, but it made Charon wonder if there was more to this situation than he was being told. Persephone stepped through the gates and the snow began to melt around her. Charon was certain this was the last he would ever see the two of them.

The first time he saw Hermes without Persephone, he was confused. He is hovering like always - just above the snow - this time much more relaxed with two scrolls in his hand. “Are you Charon?” He asked quickly enough that Charon nearly misses it, “If so this is for you, and this is for Hades.” He barely gets a chance to nod before the two scrolls are shoved at him. He tucked the one meant for him into his robes. “My name is Hermes. It’s a pleasure to meet you - assuming you are Charon - and work with you in a more official capacity.” Hermes winks as though there is a joke they are both supposed to be in on. If there is, it hadn’t been told to Charon. “Anyway I’m not allowed to go any further than the Temple, so you’re gonna have to run that message from Zeus down to the House. Or throw it in the Phlegathon, its just as likely to get answered that way.” He gives another wink, “Anyway, lots to do so I better be off.” Hermes once again vanishes into the wind without giving him a chance to respond.

Charon stayed at the gates until they closed, just to see if Hermes would return. When he didn’t Charon returned to his boat and began the journey back to the House. He debated actually throwing the letter to Hades into the Phlegathon like Hermes had suggested. He decided against it in the end, he didn’t want to be subjected to anymore of Hades’ ire. He was on thin ice as it was for helping Persephone escape. He still wasn’t permitted inside the House, though Hermes likely didn’t know that. So he left the letter by the garden gates, long unused in Persephone’s absence, and continued to Erebus. He had a letter of his own to read. It turned out to be from Persephone surprisingly enough. There is a flower carefully pressed into it, that reminded her of his smoke apparently. He was careful as he set it in a gold vase, one of many to be found in the place he carved out for himself here. It is already dead, as most things that find their way to him are, but no less beautiful. Had it been alive this place would have sapped the life from it until it crumbled to dust. Unlike it’s sender, the flower had no means to escape the Underworld. It would come to be the first of many gifts from the surface. It would remain the first thing to mark this place in Erebus as truly his.

Hermes became somewhat of a regular visitor to the Temple after that. Always with some kind of message for Hades they both knew would go unanswered, and some story from Olympus itself or whichever place on the surface that had caught his fancy. Gradually he went from lingering just inside the Temple gates seeming unsure of himself to confidently flitting about in Charon’s personal space. It’s something Charon is surprised to find he doesn’t mind at all. At least when it’s Hermes. These visits soon become his favorite parts about visiting the Temple. Hermes brings with him a pleasantness that is otherwise absent from the Underworld. More than once Charon finds himself wishing there was way he could bottle the feeling and keep it. So it would stay with him even when Hermes left. Especially now, since the constant overflow of the dead meant that Charon was the one having to leave first for a change. He wanted nothing more than to be able to stay and listen, but the longer he lingered in the Temple the more Shades would pile up. Hermes, at the very least, seemed to understand. He was a busy god himself after all.

Hermes was always full of life and energy. Always chattering and flitting about the Temple. The last thing Charon expected to see was Hermes being still in any sense of the word. Yet when he arrived he found Hermes leaned against a pillar apparently asleep. Or at least he was asleep until Charon’s boat bumped against the dock. Hermes jolted awake and for a moment looked panicked, as though he wasn��t sure where he was. When his eyes land on Charon he scrambled in to motion to make it seem like everything was normal, but Charon could see the exhaustion that clung to his features. Charon still isn’t sure what compelled him to pull Hermes into the boat. Its empty of Shades for the time being. Hermes settled onto the bench with all the grace of a thrown rock. Once he was sure Hermes wasn’t going to make a break for it, he began to row. He didn’t have a place in mind, and they would both be late after this, but it seemed like something Hermes needed. As it stands, the dead could wait just a little while longer. Hermes is asleep again before they reach Elysium. Charon slows the boat so the rocking motion wouldn’t wake him. He rows at the same slow pace down to Erebus, he is tempted to stay there until Hermes wakes up again, but instead begins to row back toward the Temple. Giving Hermes as much time to sleep as he is able.

Hermes wakes up when the boat taps against the dock in the Temple. It’s a slow process that begins with the light fluttering of his wings and ends with Hermes rising to his feet looking like he expects to be lectured for resting of all things. “Sorry about that Charon.” For once Hermes isn’t looking at him when he speaks, “I’ve been pretty busy lately and I suppose I haven’t been resting as much as I should have. It won’t happen again.” There is a crowd of Shades in the Temple now and Charon can’t reassure Hermes anymore than to gently place a hand on his shoulder as he moves past. In his absence the shades file neatly into a line and Charon begins collecting their Obol. If there happens to be blankets and cushions in the bottom of the ferry the next time Hermes arrives, that’s none of his business. As it stands, Hermes falls asleep in Charon’s boat several more times before Charon clears out a spot for him to rest in the Temple. Away from potential prying eyes and particularly nosy shades of course. He would hate to see Hermes lose the reputation he worked so hard for.

Given that he is not typically allowed into the House, it comes as a surprise to hear from Nyx that Hades wishes to speak with him. When the surprise passes the next thing to bubble to the surface is a deep sense of dread. Had Hades found where Persephone was hiding? Did he find Hermes’ hiding place? He makes it down to the House in record time. He is surprised to see Thanatos waiting before the desk and Hermes as well. A cold fear washes over him again. He knows Than values his place within the House; would he really do something like this just to keep it? Surely after everything they had been through his loyalty toward his family would have outweighed that which he owed to the House. Its Hades’ booming voice that brings him out of his thoughts. “It has been brought to my attention, through the ceaseless nagging of my relatives, and some complaints from members of my own House;” He sends a sharp look to both Hermes and Thanatos; “That the rate at which mortals are dying has become too much for one psychopomp to keep up with.” He sends another pointed look toward Hermes, “Hermes has generously offered to fill the position. Thanatos has already given his approval. Are you fine with this as well Charon?” Charon gives his usual slow nod and doesn’t miss the way Hermes breaks out into a grin.

There is a distinct difference in working with Thanatos and working with Hermes. Than’s drop offs were always quick, he would stay with the shades long enough to make sure Charon had entered the Temple, and they he was gone. Whether or not they had the Obols necessary to gain passage was none of his concern it seemed. Hermes lingered. The shades he brought with him were always neatly lined up. Charon watched him on several occasions produce Obols from who knows where to give to the shades that didn’t have them. The stories he brought with him to tell Charon also helped soothe the dead as they waited for their turn to board. In the times that Hermes was pushing aside his need for rest, Charon would finish with the shades and take him on a ride. Every single time he would be asleep before they reached Elysium. Charon enjoyed the company, even if he was asleep, though he did worry for Hermes’ health. Olympian or not, this couldn’t be sustainable. Hermes needed rest. Not whatever naps he was stealing on ferry rides or in the Temple.

It’s not long before he gets his chance. Hermes had been running himself ragged for quite some time. Between escorting the dead, keeping up with his duties as the Olympian messenger, and definitely not helping Zagreus’ escape attempts. Exhaustion hung off Hermes and held him down to the point that he barely hovered above the temple floor. Charon hates it. He considers Hermes a friend, his only friend really, and its concerning to see him like this. Once the dead were loaded onto the ferry he gently took ahold of Hermes by the shoulders and guided him to what had essentially become his spot on the boat. He didn’t resist at all which didn’t help to ease Charon’s worry. Just like every other time, Hermes is asleep before they reach Elysium. Charon takes his time ferrying the souls down to the House. When the last of the dead have made their way inside Charon continues to Erebus rather than returning to the Temple. Hermes needed more than these scant few moments of sleep. He needed real rest and time to recover. As powerful as Olympian gods were rumored to be, Charon was willing to bet that they could still succumb to the effects of over exhaustion.

Hermes doesn’t stir when the boat comes to a stop, or when Charon very carefully picks him up. He isn’t dead, Charon knows that, yet even after Hermes is carefully placed in Charon’s far too unused bed he finds himself watching the slow but steady rise and fall of his chest. Just to be sure. Eventually, he has no choice but to get back to work. The dead have all the time in world. but Thanatos unfortunately did not. When he gets the chance to return to Erebus again, Hermes is gone. In his place is a thank you note with one of his feathers neatly placed on it. The note assures him that Hermes didn’t pull the feather out, but rather it came out when Hermes preened his wings. Charon doesn’t believe that for a moment, but he takes the feather from the pillow and places it in the same vase as the various flowers he had received from Persephone over the years. It seemed to glow and the sight of it brought a pleasant sort of warmth to his chest. Almost like Hermes was still there.

Things are different after that. Better in Charon’s opinion, but definitely different. Hermes is more vulnerable around him, the act is dropped and he gets to see the god that lies beneath all the pomp and feathers. So Charon does the same. Hermes can sort of understand him by now and Charon is still amazed by that. Something warm begins to blossom where his heart would be if he had one. It’s more persistent whenever Hermes is around. Especially when he is flitting about in Charon’s personal space. It’s not something he has ever felt before. The warmth is pleasant, but concerning. He doesn’t bring it up to Hermes out of fear of worrying him. He certainly doesn’t need anything else on his plate at the moment. Zagreus gives him a bottle of nectar on one of his runs. Given that he can’t exactly drink it he decides to give it to Hermes. The smile Hermes gives him in response is what pushes him over the edge. That warm feeling bubbles and burns until he’s moving, pulling Hermes into as much of a kiss as his skeletal facial structure will allow. When Hermes pulls away to exhale a plume of deep purple smoke he is grinning. “Took you lone enough.” He says with a wink, “I thought you would never catch on.”

Things are different now. Persephone is back, and the House is lively again. Nyx is happier than Charon can ever remember seeing her, and it’s nice. Best of all, Hermes is always there when Charon gets back to Erebus. Either resting or waiting for him there with a fascinating bauble from the surface. His favorite moments though are these. When Hermes is laid out with his head in Charon’s lap letting him run skeletal fingers through his hair and soothe him to sleep. When they are both at peace and he knows Hermes is safe in a place where he can rest his weary wings.

#Charmes #background Nyx/Persephone #Charon & Persephone #hades game fic #canonverse ish #canon compliant sort of #Charon centric

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typically-untypical · 1 year

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The Fall of Roman

AU: Canon-ish

CW: Cussing, self-depreciation, minor fight scene

WC: 1631

Date: February 8th 2023

This should have been like any other day; Remus should have woken up, ready to cause chaos and sow the seeds of violence but as he stretched out his neck, something was wrong. He looked down at his usually black outfit, tilting his head to the side as he took in its now grey coloring. The realization hit him all at once as he scrambled out of bed, turning around like a dog chasing its tail as he looked for his emblem. Eventually, he was able to twist the lower half of his body and see that in fact, his emblem had changed. Its usual horror and exuberance were missing, replaced with a muted version, something he expected more from Roman.

"Roman," Remus breathed out, rolling his eyes as he made his way out of his room, waving his hand to change his outfit, but it was spiffy, completely not something he normally would like to wear. "Gross, I'm turning into some prissy hero or something." He said quietly, frowning down at his outfit. Was Roman just in one of his moods or was something else going on here? Remus frowned, making his way to his brother's room. Though his steps were hurried he didn't bother moving about the quick way. It couldn't be that big of a deal with the changes being as subtle as they were, then again, the fact that there were any changes at all was problematic.

"Remus, where are you going this early in the morning?" Janus asked, looking at him from the kitchen, but Remus didn't stop.

"Light side's."

"Try not to cause too much of a mess."

"No promises."

Remus burst into the common area and immediately knew he should have been more concerned. The room was completely shrouded in shadows, an eerie quiet echoing through the space. On any other day, this would please him, he would be overjoyed with the horror movie vibe, but there was a stirring in his soul, a change trying to force itself upon him. He felt the need to be the hero, to fix the problem to save the day. "Stupid fucking brother, making me be all noble or some shit, I'm going to make him regret this." Remus stalked towards his brother's room where the darkness was heaviest, he summoned his morning star, only to find it was a broadsword instead. "Oh for fucks sake." Remus rolled his eyes, making his way into the room anyway, shaving open the door. He wasn't sure where the other light sides were and honestly, he didn't really care, they weren't his problem. Even if he never wanted to play the hero, Remus also didn't think he was the villain. He didn't mind when he was thrust into that role but he had his own uses, his own purposes and his intentions were to make everyone question their normal. His purpose wasn't to destroy his brother. He also wasn't happy making sure his brother was okay, but he could play the good guy for once.

Stepping into what should have been a pleasant field filled with flowers. Remus had left in alone whenever he snuck in, mostly because it reminded him of the grass fields they would draw when they were kids, and didn't have much talent. He would never admit how much he loved that field with its stupid basic flowers, but now it was just ash. The green field was a mix of yellow and black, burned from above by something that breathed fire though there were no fires currently remained. How long had Roman been here destroying the things he had worked to build?

As he continued to walk forward, Remus saw houses destroyed, towers toppled and in the distance a castle that certainly belonged more on his side of the imagination than in Roman's. His brother didn't seem to even enjoy or revel in the idea of being a villain, everything was in disrepair. "You are so dramatic." Despite his words, he could feel the worry running through him as he powered through the decay, each step seeming to change his outfit into something more befitting a prince. No, he wasn't the prince, or the hero in this story, the best he was willing to be was the villain that saved the hero, the one who had always been supportive just from the shadows.

"What are you doing here Remus?" His voice was tired, and Roman was sitting on an obsidian throne, clad in black and red.

"Unfortunately if you are going to play the destitute villain I'm being forced to play the hero, and I'm not about that life."

"No one asked you to play the hero," Roman sounded so defeated, and Remus hated that that sound would ever enter his brother's voice, so he began walking towards his twin, gesturing to his outfit before sitting on the arm rest of his brother's throne.

"Look, we both know that you were always sorted to be the hero and I was sorted to be the villain, and I'm content with that. So, why don't you tell me what has you so wrapped up in your own mind that you've destroyed everything you've built."

For a long time, Roman was silent, almost as if he was trying to stop Remus from being involved, but the more chaotic of the two twins was actually the better at playing the silent game, so he sat and waited until Roman finally broke.

"Remus, get out!" He shouted now, standing from his throne with a sword in his hand. "You have always been happy to play your part, happy to do whatever whims you pleased or fancied, I'm not like that, I didn't have that luxury. I have to fit into a mold!" He swung his sword at his brother but it was lackluster at best.

Remus was able to easily perry his brother's onslaught of attacks, not moving to reciprocate. Roman had so much frustration built up in him and he so rarely allowed himself to let it out. Sure Roman would insult his favorite movies or even people, and sure he would come up with nicknames but none of that was him really letting loose, really telling off everyone who had hurt him, or just screaming out his pains.

"You don't understand the pressure I'm under to constantly be perfect, to constantly live up to impossible standards of originality and cleverness. You can just exist and that's enough!" Through the anger Remus could see the tears, that was where he would make his move. Waiting for Roman to leave him an opening, Remus charged forward, dropping his weapon as he tackled Roman, clinging to him in a forceful hug. For a moment, Roman was stunned, then came the anger and the yelling.

"Let go of me! Get off!"

Then finally the resignation and the tears, and Remus began to gently rub Roman's back.

"I can't do this. I'm no good at being good, every decision I make is wrong and I don't know what to do anymore."

The brokenness in Roman's voice was awful, and Remus just held his brother, rocking back and forth on his feet. There was a wave that passed between them and he watched as both his sleeves and Roman's began to mute out to the color of ash, a soft grey. So many people thought ash meant death, but it could also mean growth and rebirth. Roman would rise above this, because that's what a hero did.

"You've just hit a stumbling block Ro, you are going through so much shit and don't know how to handle it all, and that's fine, because it's you, you're going to get through it."

"How can you be so certain?" Roman asked, voice shaking. "How can you be sure that I can rise above all of the quagmire and treachery?" He looked down at his own outfits. "How am I going to escape the shades of grey?"

Remus shrugged. "No idea, but I know you can figure it out because that's just who you are. You are Thomas' creativity, builder of the mindscape, creator of the imagination."

"More like destroyer."

Remus frown, gently leading Roman out of the throne room and towards a spire where they could see the kingdom better. It was hard to look at the scene, at the destruction wrought by his brother's hands.

"You aren't the first creator to go postal on your creations, and you won't be the last, hell I do it pretty regularly, but that doesn't matter."

Roman was sniffling, and Remus continued to hold him, continued to be a support, "Because you remember it, and you can rebuild."

"But... what if I can't? What if I can't take on that position anymore, king, prince, hero? What if they are all lost to me?"

Remus shrugged. "It doesn't matter, because no matter what, I'll be right here by your side. I'll stay with you until the title of "King", "Prince", "Hero", or whatever other bullshit you want to call yourself feels right. I don't care if not a single one of those other idiots stands by your side. I'm your brother, and I'm an asshole, but you will always have me. The world could turn boring and peaceful, all the problems could be solved leaving nothing entertaining to do, and I will still be by your side, because like it or not, that's what siblings do."

Roman wiped his tears away on his white sleeve, standing tall with his shoulders back as he stretched out his hands, ready to create again. "Your motivational speeches need some work." Roman laughed, and his voice still wavered. There were still tears in his eyes.

Nevertheless, with his brother by his side, he persisted.

Tag List: @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @melaniidarling

#Untypical Creations #Sanders Sides #Sanders Side fic #Fanfic #Remus Sanders #Janus Sanders #Roman Sanders #roman angst #cw cussing #mild violence #cw weapon #Remus Sanders is a good brother #they all need a hug #canon compliant ish

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