#just had to deal with a very unpleasant person at work so let me have this

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Death’s Brought Me Company

@Mimca @thesilentbard @carelisswriting @kinglazrus

There are times Vlad is truly baffled at how irresponsible, foolish, reckless, inane, stupid, dangerous, dense, careless, thoughtless, witless, idiotic, and hazardous, Maddie and Jack could be. They were his friends, yes, but they were a menace to everyone around them and he is not impressed with their son becoming their lastest ‘screw up’.

Vlad hums as he sorts through a few papers, there wasn’t too much approvals he needed to go over and sign but it was still work all the same. It would take him a few hours at least, rather than the seven plus hours poor people had to work but well that’s the perks of wealth no matter how questionably immorally acquired. That questionable morality was why he didn’t bring up his business around those friends of his, they didn’t exactly approve of how Vlad got himself to where he is today. He finds it to be rather hypocritical considering those two worked in an area that was highly morally questionable as well, and he highly doubts they’ve achieved everything they have though one hundred percent legal means as well. Alas, he had little interest in arguing such things with them, both could be rather dense after all.

He’s making good time on this application for zoning investigation and work arounds, which was starting to look like he’d definitely have to deal with it personally and with a little intimidation perhaps. Then his phone goes off, he’s tempted to let it simply go to voicemail, no one was truly entitled to his time or immediate attention after all. Then the caller id tells him it’s them, it’s Jack and Maddie, and any ideas of giving the caller(s) the cold shoulder goes out the window. They’d caught up with him four days ago? He’d given them his condolences for their portal, while also adding in some maybe snide remarks about how ‘at least there was no tragic accidents this time’. Secretly, he wanted that to be a success, in part because he knew they’d just keep trying and he’d rather them succeed before hurting themselves. The other part was simply that he can then show them his portal in proper, since they didn’t want seeing his to influence their own work; establish something themselves without others input was something he could respect. But without them being able to sense and feel the flow of ectoplasm even he’s not sure how they’ll manage it. The fact that they’re calling again so soon means either it has indeed worked and they had only needed to fiddle with it a bit more, or someone’s been hurt. All he can do is hope it’s the former, as he picks up the phone, “Maddie? Jack?”.

It’s Maddie’s voice he hears, hearing her voice before Jack’s excited greetings was never a good thing. The last time that happened Jack had gotten himself hospitalised from a head on collision with a semi truck. The time before that, Jack had somehow gotten the house teleported into the mirror dimension, which Vlad hadn’t even known existed. Her voice is worried, “Vlad, I think we messed up”.

Oh no. Vlad sighs, folding up the paperwork that won’t be looked at again today, and puts a few of his fingers to his forehead as he replies, “what happened? Are you two okay?”.

“We’re… fine-”.

“And! Our portals working!”. Ah there’s Jack, there’s excitement in his voice but it’s… far too subdued for the man. Very far too subdued. Something’s gone wrong.

Did a ghost come through their portal? A dangerous one perhaps? Or is the Infinite Realm side location an unpleasant one? Is the portal unstable? There’s lots of possibilities.

“Jack dear, let me explain”.

“Right, sorry Mads. Hey Vlad!”.

Vlad rolls his eyes a little fondly, also slight annoyed of course, Jack could be too eager and exuberant, “yes hello, Jack. Now do explain, Madeline”.

“Maddie”, she clears her throat, “after the portal didn’t work we decided to go for a walk, to try and think in the fresh air and cheer up”.

Perfectly reasonable and expected so far.

“We even formulated a new shaft design we were going to try and work in, but when we got back Jazz… screamed-”.

Jack butts in again, “it was awful and I never want to hear that from my precious princess ever again”; Vlad can hear the man physically shudder. Yes, he supposes hear one’s child scream is never good or pleasant.

“Agreed, Jack. But-”, she sighs, “-it was from the lab, Vlad, so we ran down, worried of course-”. It sounds like she’s bitting her nails, something she only did when very worried. “-the last time anyone screamed in a lab was you and that was terrifying”.

Vlad grumbling, “oh I’m well aware”, shaking his head, “is young Jasmine alright?”.

“Yes, yes, thankfully. But… Danny’s not”. Well butter biscuits, Vlad gets up immediately to go grab his coat as she continues, “apparently Danny saw how upset we were and thought he’d try to fix the portal for us-”.

Vlad pauses with one arm through his jacket sleeve, he almost squawks but he absolutely does not squawk, “what”; he knows a bit of his ghostly power leaked into his voice and that made his response less pleasant on the ears, but he hardly cares. “How did he even get down there”.

She doesn’t chastise him for using his more ghostly voice over phone, meaning she might be concerned enough to have not even noticed, “we… might have forgot to lock the lab when we left-”.

Jack butting in yet again, “but the kids have been drilled on safety! He really should have known not too!”.

Vlad growls low, “they’re children, Jack”, pulling his jacket on fully and taking a breath, “children are not known for abiding by rules and are well known to have invincibility complexes”. Daniel was a stellar and unfortunate example of that. That boy had tried to eat a pie that was actively on fire before, and don’t get him started on the child trying to ‘bake himself’ or the blackbird pie incident.

Maddie swallows, “I know we weren’t as careful as we should have been, Vlad. Danny… wandered inside the portal to see if he could fix it and it turned out we… forgot to unplug it as well and… forgot there was an on switch inside that needed to be turned on”.

Vlad knows well his eyes flash red, “excuse me, would you care to repeat that”, that was practically a threat and he knew it. How could they be so! So! So stupid! So utterly and completely and unbelievably moronic! “You left it plugged in, forgot an on switch INSIDE THE MACHINE, failed to lock the Cracker Jack door, and left a dangerous highly volatile machine in working condition alone while your children were home. Are you two actively TRYING to hospitalise people?!”. It takes some effort to not simply crush his phone, “college I can understand, we were all too excitable, but now? Absolutely not”, growling again, “now. What is Daniel’s condition”. That’s a demand not a question.

He can hear the wince in her voice, good, and her tones shaky, for a change he’s hoping that’s from fear of him. “He’s… he’s out of the hospital now, Vlad. He’s-”.

What. “You mean to tell me he was in hospital and you didn’t call me immediately. Madeline, what the butter biscuits is wrong with you two!”. This was completely unacceptable. He paces in a circle, he wanted her to just hang up already so he can head over there personally and shoot something just to get across how unbelievably pissed and unimpressed he is. As it is he’s seriously debating throwing one of his crystal whiskey glasses at a wall.

“I, we knew you’d be mad and, Vlad, it’s not the same. There’s no ecto-acne, his hair’s the same. The doctor even said he was having a perfectly normal reaction to high voltage electrocution. His vitals weren’t even wonky!”.

Jack blurting out, “we were confused! Relieved but confused!”.

Vlad pauses, stilling, “he… doesn’t have ecto-acne? None of my symptoms?”. That… then perhaps the boy would be fine? Wouldn’t be changed by them?

Maddie clearly bites her lip, “no and I thought that, maybe, if you were around, with your ecto-field, that might change things. I thought it was a risk and I knew you’d come immediately if we called”.

Vlad pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs aggressively. He supposes they very well could have a point there. As there would be no way to safely confirm if Vlad being near would have some effect on someone else who got caught in a portal. It would genuinely be a risk. Even if she had explained that worry to him he knows he would have gone anyway, he wouldn’t have been able to take her at her word. He still can’t, won’t. “I want you to send me his medical records, immediately. I’ll read them on my way”.

“I’d chastise you about distracted flying but, I understand. We’ve poured over them already and they really are normal. But, he’s- something’s not right even if he keeps saying he’s fine”.

Vlad glares at a wall, it melts slightly, “butter biscuits”, at least his tablet pings an email, him transforming as he opens it, it’s the medical files. Him nodding to himself, at least they had the files on standby already, “got them. I’ll be there shortly. However, do know that I am not impressed”, and he hangs up without giving them the chance to say goodbyes or see you soons.

Him flying out a window and flipping through his tablet, the files are… somehow perfectly normal and Vlad is a little baffled. His own records showed himself as having a disturbingly low heart rate and blood pressure, an extreme feverish body temp, and far too few breaths per minute. Daniel’s was: eighty two bpm, one-twenty over eighty mmHg, ninety-seven point nine Fahrenheit, and a respiratory rate of eleven. His respiratory was on the lower end but it wasn’t actively concerning, Vlad himself often averaged only four.

Normal was good. But Madeline said she still felt something wasn’t right, perhaps she was simply paranoid or perhaps the electrocution had simply raised Daniel’s vitals for a period of time. Vlad shaking his head, the fact that the boy had been inside of the portal and electrocuted instead of simply blasted in the face by pure ecto-energy was horrific; but perhaps such an unfortunate experience would prevent him from becoming something no longer truly human. Vlad did consider himself better for how he is now, but that didn’t make the process of become content with it a pleasant one, it also didn’t make being a halfa a good thing as it arguably was not. It was a rather lonely existence, which Vlad would rather not see changed in this particular instance. It could one day get him experimented on by his own government, and under that same government he did not truly have rights. He had nothing he could compare himself to, for curiosities sake or for the sake of his well being. There was also the simple fact that having powers resulted in his view of the world and other people being undeniably altered. The mental changes and instincts were an entirely separate issue, one he’s embraced, but that applies to him and perhaps not to a young teenage boy.

He now rather wished it had been Maddie or Jack that had gotten caught in their own creation, rather than a child.

Either way, he’s here now. Floating invisibly above the FentonWorks building and feeling the desire to blast that sign of theirs out of frustration and annoyance. One would think after what happened with him they’d be even slightly more careful, but apparently not. He lands with a scowl, phasing through the front door and, at the sight that only Maddie and Jack appearing to be around, transforms back into his human form and drops his invisibility; both of them jerk a little and he glares instead of half heartedly apologising or mocking them. “Where is he”. It’s not a question and they know it. Vlad can smell that the boy’s not here, and he’s none too pleased about that.

Jack rubs his neck, “school”. While Maddie winces. Vlad glaring a little more, “he just got of the hospital for at the very least being electrocuted and you sent him to school”.

Maddie standing up from her chair, hands up pacifyingly, “he wanted to, Vlad”, dropping her hands, “even Jazz tried to get him to stay home but he got mad at her for being overbearing and still left”.

Jack frowning, “he’s been making almost every excuse he can to not be here, kinda part of our worry you know?”, and laughs in that awkward way that Vlad knows means he’s upset and possibly even scared.

Vlad rubs his temples and walks in further, “I suppose that’s acceptable then, but what teen actually wants to go to school?”.

“Jazz thinks he’s traumatised and doesn’t want to be around the portal”, Maddie frowns, “which is understandable”.

Vlad scowling, “yes, yes it is”.

Jack tilting his head in confusion, “but he’s still cleaning the lab, like he’s supposed to so I don’t think Jazz’s theory makes sense”.

Vlad blinks at the man, he can’t be serious. “You’re telling me, you have Daniel who was just in a portal accident cleaning your lab? Surrounded by ectoplasm samples and mess. Jack, I am genuinely debating trying to beat you up”. The man looks apologetic rather than frightened, which is a fair bit grating. Giving Maddie a hard look, “how can you justify him being around that if you were worried about him being around me”.

“We don’t really know how different your ecto-field is, Vlad. And you give off a ton more than any samples we have. For all any of us know there could be some form of halfa gene or energy in yours”.

Alright, Vlad can admit that could very well be the case. Sighing, “fine. I still don’t approve”, moving into the kitchen/dinning room fully, “now what about him seems wrong? I know him being avoidant, of you two or the lab or merely the portal would not be enough to set off alarm bells”. After all, such behaviour would be perfectly normal and human.

Maddie frowns and grabs a sample vial out of the fridge, “we found blood and ectoplasm in the bathroom this morning, and remembering what… happened with you and your wings, well”, she hands it over to him and he gets her concern immediately, it looks like one of his own samples. “It’s not separating out like human blood and ghost ectoplasm normally does. Normally does, with any sample that isn’t from you or someone severely contaminated long term”.

Vlad nods at the sample, this was near as good as proof to him. He winces a bit internally though, feeling a bit of a pang of sympathy for the boy. The wings ‘coming out’ as it were, was incredibly unpleasant. He’s glad Jack and Maddie had been there for that, to ‘help’ even if it was mostly them getting things straightened out and cleaning him up when he was frankly too exhausted to do it himself. However this meant they weren’t there for their son, which would be the more important one to be there for. Rolling his right shoulder a bit, “I’m assuming there’s more, because yes, him just being contaminated is a viable option”.

Jack nods, “he keeps dropping things and acts very freaked out after”. Maddie nodding at her husband then looking back to Vlad, “I’m fairly certain I saw his cereal spoon go through his fingers rather than just dropping it. And he has that unnerving aura around him that you do, I might be desensitised to it but that doesn’t mean I don’t still feel it sometimes”, and she laughs playfully a little.

Vlad glaring, flashing his eyes at her, “I’m not in the mood, Madeline”; making her wince. Vlad pinching the bridge of his nose yet again, eyes squeezing shut, “alright, so it would seem that Daniel is mostly likely a halfa now, correct?”. Dropping his hand and eyeing them as they both nod, “yet he did not have ecto-acne or abnormal vitals?”. More nodding, “and he’s being avoidant of a house full of ghost hunting gear as well as the two ghost hunters who reside in it?”.

Maddie smacks herself in the face immediately, Jack thumping his head down on the table. Maddie groaning, “why did we not clue in to that? Ugh. He’s afraid we’re going to hurt him or hunt him”. Jack snapping his head up, “we would never!”.

Vlad gives them a bit of a pitying look, eyeing Jack specifically, “you two found out the same time I did about my altered state of being, there was never a chance for me to have those kinds of worries”, scoffing, “not that I would have. But Daniel is a child. His brain isn’t even fully developed, it’s a wonder he didn’t run away on you. Of course he’s afraid of ghost hunters if he’s a ghost himself”. They both wince at least.

And the then house phone goes off, Maddie picking it up immediately, “hello?”.

Vlad tilts his head, his ghostly hearing making it easy to listen in. “Hey Mrs. Fenton. Was wondering if Danny could spend the night? We got a big project and apparently the dummy forgot to actually do his part”. That reeks of a lie, it’s not a bad one though, he’ll give what sounds like a teen girl that much; it was most likely that Samantha girl.

Maddie eyes the vial now sitting on the table, hopefully she’s thinking what he is, Daniel’s friends knew and were trying to help him, most likely with the fresh wings. Vlad would gamble a concerning amount of money on the belief that Daniel most certainly did not actually go to school and neither did his friends. Maddie shakes her head to herself, “I would really rather he come home, I’m sure any school work he needs to do is important but I’d like him home”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, the woman was going to make the boy a bundle of nerves, so he walks over and phases the phone out of her grip, making her jump. She glares at him and puts her hands on her hips, “what do you think you’re doing?”. Vlad simply smirks, said smirk likely airing on the ‘villainous’ side, before giving his attention to the phone, “tell young Daniel that his godfather would like to see him and that said grandfather is not unfamiliar with certain portal-related accidents, as it were”. Maddie looks worried. Him moving the phone away from his ear and covering the mic, “relax, dear Maddie. Being blunt with the boy is far better than making him scared to come home”.

The, “what are you talking about?!?”, that comes through the phone making all three of them wince from the static and warble. Maddie paling a little and leaning against the counter, after all, that kind of vocal effect was explicitly ghostly and one she’s heard from Vlad quite literally today multiple times. It was more solid proof. A different male voice, that isn’t spectrally infused, pipes up in the background, “dude, your voice?”.

Hmmm, yes his friends did indeed know. Vlad smirking a little again, “Daniel, tell that friend of yours not to worry about your voice, it’s perfectly normal when emotional”.

“Um. Uh. Okay?”. Oh the boy sounds so unsure and freaked out, Vlad almost wants to mock him a little. It sounds like he’s turned his head away from the phone, “um, so apparently what just happened is normal? And my uncle god father guy might be, you know, kinda like me or something? And I should probably actually go home”.

Then the girls voice again, “if your parents shoot you, I’m stabbing them and burying their bodies in my garden”.

The other male sounds like he’s frowning, “do you want us to go with? You know, moral support?”.

It would seem Daniel had good friends. A blessing indeed. Hopefully they were less reckless and idiotic than Vlad’s own friends, regardless of how fond of them he was. However, Vlad has no interest in explaining himself to three teenagers, Daniel needed the information the other two could hear it from him, “I’d much rather not have this conversation with three hormonal teenagers”.

Daniel is clearly still talking to his friends, “okay so that’s a no, Tuck. Apparently we’re too hormonal”.

“More like homicidal, I do have boots with knives inside them”.

“I’m not wearing your shoes, Sam”.

“You don’t need to wear them! Throw them!”.

“Your shoes weigh, like, twenty goddamn pounds?”.

The boy butts into the argument, “I’m not sure that matters anymore, man. You accidentally lifted up my dad’s car”.

“Shut up, Tuck. Ugh”. Daniel’s attention does seem to return to the phone at that, “am I in trouble?”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “hardly. The only ones in trouble are two reckless scientists who let this happen for a second time”; he throws another glare at the two who smartly wince and glance away.

Daniel almost excited whispers, “oh my god my parents are in trouble, that’s kinda awesome”; his friends laugh in the background.

“Well if you find that amusing, come home and mock them”.

Daniel sighs, “okay fine”.

Vlad nodding to himself, “good. Now for the love of all the Gouda in the world, do not try to bind or strap down your, let’s say, feathered friends, you’ll just damage them and bent feathers are hardly becoming of a man or boy”. Vlad took expert care of his wings and he wasn’t about to tolerate Daniel not doing the same, or everything forbid misshaping them.

This time Daniel actually squeaks, “okay”, then hangs up.

Vlad feels quite content with himself actually. Looking to Maddie and Jack, who still look rather awkward, “he’s coming. Now hopefully I don’t need to tell you two to avoid staring or trying to take samples from him”, he doesn’t like that they appear slightly confused, “Daniel isn’t me, I was and am an adult and an ecto-ologist myself, he is neither”.

Maddie sighs and nods to herself, “right right, he needs us a parents only and the last thing we’d want to do is make him feel like an experiment”.

Vlad nodding strongly right back, “indeed”.

Jack smacking his fist into his hand and springing up, “oh! We should change so we’re not in the, you know, ghost hunter stuff!”. Vlad chuckling a little, “that’s not a bad idea”, which makes the man run off upstairs. Maddie shaking her head fondly and moving to follow after him; Vlad watching her go.

They were fools but they cared, it was only too bad their foolishness had to bring harm unto others so often. Yes Daniel’s own actions had been foolish, much like Vlad’s had been, but that boy was a child and that made a world of difference. A child should have the expectation that something that could alter their very being and species wouldn’t be left unattended and plugged in inside an unlocked room. Daniel was well within reason to believe that the worst that could happen was a slight burn or small shock, a cut perhaps. Not death, by half or full.

Daniel arrives before his parents actually finish changing, getting in and out of biohazard suits wasn’t exactly easy, even for Vlad since he couldn’t phase through the material. Arguably this was for the best, Vlad was watching the door, leaning back against the kitchen entryway wall, as Daniel sticks his head in cautiously. Daniel spotting him, stares, looking confused, so Vlad gestures at his eyes and flashes them their ghostly red. Daniel jumps a little before relaxing and moving inside fully, he’s… holding a blanket around his shoulders even if it’s not doing much to hide that there’s something large underneath. Vlad definitely wants to mock him, very badly in fact, drawling a very sarcastic, “impeccable fashion choices, Daniel. I applaud you”.

Daniel scowls at him, “what else am I supposed to do, you jerk”, there’s a bit of humour in his eyes so Vlad counts that as a win. Daniel glancing around as the door shuts and he shuffles inside more, “where are, mom and dad?”.

“Upstairs at the moment”, Vlad eyes the ground around the boy, no shadow. Daniel is absolutely a halfa, even with wings he could still technically be merely extremely contaminated, but without a shadow there’s no way he’s fully human. Light simply passed through their kind in the same way it did with ghosts and there was nothing that could be done about that. Which yes, was part of why Vlad preferred to avoid needless public appearances.

Daniel nods, eyeing Vlad, “so, where’s yours? Or were you just yanking my chain?”.

Vlad rolls his eyes at that, pushing himself off the wall and letting his wings unfurl out through the holes he had in the backs off all his clothes these days, crimson red feathers lining the inside and his white ones covering the outside. Stretching one out to flick Daniel in the forehead with the primary feathers. Daniel stares wide-eyed, “how did you do that? How do you hide them?! I have so many questions”.

Vlad chuckles, his blatant curiosity, with no hints of horror or distrubia was a genuinely welcome reaction. It reminded him of Jack, except without getting his very fresh at the time feathers grabbed and prodded. Folding his wings up against his back again, though leaving them out instead of reabsorbing them, “I imagine so”, walking over towards Daniel and grabbing the blanket he’s still using as a cover and pulling it up some, ignoring Daniel’s clear embarrassment. “We’re malleable things, absorbing them inside ourselves is a simple though uncomfortable task”. The constant full sensation in his torso and the aches from wings that wanted to be stretched out could be incredibly annoying and cumbersome. Humming, “yours are much too fresh though, you need to heal first. I can say the colour seems to suit you well though”. The red inner feathers of his own used to confuse him, until he grew up and stablised into his more vampiric appearance anyways. Daniel’s were white and seemed to shimmer or sparkle like fresh snow, which went well with his pale skin; they even felt cold like snow, was his core an ice type perhaps? The black tipping on all the feathers, as well as his lesser coverts and alula feathers being black was a decent accent and went well with his dark hair. If Vlad had to guess, Daniel’s tertial feathers are black as well.

Daniel blinks, apparently a little baffled by how calm Vlad was being, “yours… go with your eyes?”

Alright yes, Vlad laughs at that, “they suit me more than you can tell, boy”.

Daniel snorts at that and rolls his eyes, “whatever, old man”, though his fidgeting fingers give away his nerves.

“Alright! Is he here yet!”, Jack pops down the stairs in his stupid ghost themed overalls, how did that man not understand that those things did not flatter him at all? Jack brightening up at seeing his son, and basically bounding down the stairs. Daniel pulling the wing out of Vlad’s grasp and hiding it under the blanket again, “oh! Um, hi? Dad?”, cringing dramatically, “what are you wearing?!”. See even Daniel understands it’s unbecoming.

Vlad has no desire to play a game of ‘beat around the bush’ so he nods to Jack, and Maddie as she comes down as well, “he doesn’t have a shadow, meaning that yes, he’s a halfa as well”.

“I- wait what?”, Daniel looks down, “what do you mean in don’t have a shadow?”, does a little circle spin ‘thing’ while staring at the ground and blinking, “holy shit I don’t have a shadow”.

“Language, my boy”. Had he seriously not noticed? Well Vlad knows which parent he got that lack of attention to detail from, as endearing as that particular flaw could be it wasn’t a good one.

Maddie gives Vlad a bit of a pinched smile before making a point to hold Jack back from crowding the boy, her walking up and ruffling Daniel’s hair, Daniel eyeing the bare hand cautiously. “To be fair, sweety, we didn’t notice either”.

Perhaps he got it from both of them. How unfortunate. Vlad shakes his head, stepping back a little to let the mother look over her son and the father hover close enough by that it doesn’t quite qualify as crowding. Vlad huffing, “considering you didn’t notice an entire misplaced on switch I’m not sure why I’m surprised”.

Both parents wince but Daniel blinks at him a bit owlishly, it absolutely does not come off as human, “wait, how do you know that?”.

Jack rubbing his neck and getting his son’s attention, “well, we inspected the portal after your, uh, accident. We wanted to know how it happened, since we thought it was completely nonfunctional”.

“Right. Your ground breaking life’s work. Got it”. Even Vlad cringes from that response, it was explicitly bitter.

Jack holds up his hands, looking awkward as he should for that comment. “No not just how you got it to work. More like how it worked at all, every other time we’ve failed it had to be completely reworked so it should have been fine not being unplugged… or locked… which yeah was really stupid of us. Heh”, and rubs his neck.

Vlad sighs, touching a few fingers to his forehead, “what your buffoon of a father is trying to say is that he wanted to know how you were even able to get hurt”, then glaring at Jack, “I am still fully tempted to smack both of you over the head, know that”.

Daniel actually looks amused and pleased at that; progress. And stares a little surprised when Jack smacks Vlad on the back a couple of times, paying no mind to the wings. Muttering to himself, “Huh, I guess they are okay”. Meanwhile Vlad’s simply trying to stop himself from getting knocked over.

Maddie nodding and startling the boy a little, “we’ve had twenty years to get used to him and all the changes that happened, you’re fine and we definitely are not going to shoot you or anything of that sort”. Jack nodding and grinning in agreement readily.

Vlad inspects his nails a little, “I’d be quite annoyed if that wasn’t the case”, waving at Jack dismissively while speaking to Daniel again, “your father was more explicitly responsible for my little accident”, huffing, “though I’ll admit sticking my face directly in front of a potentially viable proto portal was indeed foolish”.

“I mean, at least you didn’t try to put it around your neck to wear it like a collar”.

Vlad blinks at the boy, a bit affronted, “that would be utterly imbecilic rather than just foolish”.

Maddie blinks before putting a hand over her face again, “right, yeah”, looking at Vlad, “we caught him doing that with another proto portal model, that’s why we stopped making them”.

Vlad smacks Daniel over the back of the head immediately, “you are a danger to yourself and a complete moron. Child or no”.

Daniel squawks, “ow! Hey!”, and covers his head with his hands, “it was funny!”; this all resulting in him dropping the blanket, which thumps to the ground quietly considering how much it doing so revealed. Daniel blinking owlishly again and eyeing his folks as they get their first proper glimpse of the wings.

Vlad humming to himself while the boy has an internal crisis or two, “hmmm, I was right, your tertials are indeed black”.

“My, what?”.

Vlad unfolds a wing some and gesture at the fluffier feathers that stayed close to his side and back, “the inner most feathers, the only ones that actually stay ‘fluffy’”, gesturing at Daniel’s fuzzy fluffy feathers, “you have feather down right now, that’ll go away with age”. Vlad only had to put up with that for around two years if he remembers right, Daniel’s would likely stick around for at least four; that thought making him snicker at the boy, “give it a few years, at least four, I’d say”. Daniel pouts at him.

Jack beams, “meaning more time for cute baby ghost pictures!”; that Daniel absolutely fully groans at, burying his face in his hands. “We only have five of Vlad”.

Vlad scowling, “and here I thought I burned all of those”.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t now?!”, Jack’s grin is almost mean which is strange to see on the jubilant man, “now Danny-boy can see them!”. At least that makes Daniel laugh into his hand.

Vlad rolls his eyes, though he supposes the bonding would be worth the embarrassment. As well as reassuring to the boy that he’s normal, for their species anyways. Though… Daniel still has his wings as scrunched up and as pressed into himself as possible, he wasn’t relaxing them at all. Sighing at the boy, “the more difficult you make healing the longer it’ll take to be able to hide them”.

“Huh?”.

Vlad ignores him, as well as his parents looks of concern, and moves around Daniel to physically grab the wings and force them open and away from his back a bit. Daniel yelping and attempting to jerk out of Vlad’s grasp, “hey!”.

Vlad just glares at the very sloppy stitch work and bandaging attached with, of all things, scotch tap. This would scar horrifically if not corrected immediately, “by Gouda, who did this? This is going to heal horribly even without you trying to scrunch your wings up out of existence. Kitchen table, now, we’re fixing this”. Vlad doesn’t care that the boy is clearly embarrassed when Jack and Maddie tilt their heads over or physically move to get a look and cringe themselves.

At least Daniel does move into the kitchen, not moving his wings at all from the position Vlad effectively moved them into, good, smart boy. Daniel grumbling, “Sam did and I think she did a great job”.

“A great job for a teenager not for a doctor. Any doctor who did this would lose their license on the spot or I’d sue them into bankruptcy”.

Jack brings over their medi kit, the one they’d use on him on the rare occasion it was needed. Vlad liked to pride himself on rarely getting injured even when dealing with ghosts. Of course one can’t employ ghosts without out first proving why they’re the employer and not the employee. Skulker in particular took a while to beat down into submission. Maddie getting out what’s needed from the kit while Daniel sits down on one of the stools, “um, why is the thread in there glowing?”.

Maddie’s response is automatic and she doesn’t take her eyes off of her task, “it’s phase proof, so you won’t accidentally phase it out of your skin”.

“Oh okay, yeah that makes sense I guess”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “I would hope so. Now hold still and don’t fold your wings in”. It was fairly clear Daniel was more comfortable with him touching his wings, likely because Vlad had his own pair, so Vlad maneuvers the wings around for Maddie as she does her work. Vlad, figuring he might as well use this time to explain and to distract the boy from the pain of this, hums, “Jack and Maddie said you’ve been clumsy, dropping things, so I take it your having issues with the powers?”. Vlad had had some control issues in the beginning, but not much. In fact, Vlad didn’t get his powers for quite a while after his accident and they came one by one and very painfully. They always stung and felt foreign the first few times, it seemed like Daniel might not be having such issues.

Daniel flushing, “oh um, yeah? It’s just comes so easily, naturally or whatever, that it kinda just keeps happening?”.

Vlad quirking a single well manicured eyebrow, “and it doesn’t hurt? At all?”.

Daniel turns his head to give Vlad a confused look, “no? Should it?”.

Jack looks relieved and gets Daniel’s attention, responding before Vlad can, “oh yeah, it was pretty bad every time a new one cropped up. Sure it was cool too! But the pain and it making his ecto-acne flair up really made it kinda suck. I totally freaked out the first time”.

Maddie nodding as she threads some more of the ecto-line, “to be fair, your best friend falling through his bed, and all his medications and monitors, while screaming would be very scary to anyone”.

Vlad huffing, “I will not admit to being terrified at the time”, was saying that basically admitting to it? Absolutely not and no one can convince him otherwise.

Daniel huffing, “then I’m not admitting to being scared either, jerk”, shaking his head gently, hopefully with the purpose of not disturbing Maddie or causing himself more pain. How well he could hide pain was a little concerning. “Should I be worried I’m not getting pain from it and stuff? And each time you got a new one?”, Daniel quirks an eyebrow, “you didn’t just get everything all at once? Ecto-acne?”.

“That level of pain would have likely knocked me unconscious for multiple days, so no. I got my powers slowly over multiple years, which were spent hospitalised”. Humming and tapping his chin, he wonders why they’re different like this? He’s clearly a halfa and not a full ghost, otherwise he wouldn’t look human at all and he wouldn’t still have a human scent; yes it was tinted with ectoplasm but it was still human. Could it be because his own accident was with a proto portal and not a genuine one? Or did the size and power output matter? Perhaps how much of the body was engulfed at once? Since it sounded like Daniel’s entire body was blasted all at once, while only his face was affected. Perhaps that was why Daniel didn’t get ecto-acne?

Jack scratches his head, “I don’t think? you need to worry? There really isn’t an ‘normal’ way this works since Vlad’s the only halfa we all know of. And your, uh accidents, were pretty different”.

Daniel quirks an eyebrow at Jack then turns the look on Vlad, clearly wanting an explanation. Vlad shrugging like talking about it didn’t really bother him, “I got blasted in the face, and only the face, by a proto portal that quite possibly had contaminated ectoplasm in it. Where as it sounds like you got blasted head to toe by a genuine fully functional portal, that would definitely have been using pure ectoplasm otherwise it wouldn’t be working”, frowning, “I also did not get electrocuted, so it is not as if you got out of this pain free”.

Daniel winces, “yeah that wasn’t fun”. Maddie and Jack also wincing, it looks like Maddie’s got the first wing back tear stitched up properly now.

Jack rubbing his neck and eyeing his son, “we are really sorry that happened though”.

Daniel shrugs, making Vlad smack him over the head again, Daniel grumbling and rubbing the back of his head, “ow. And it’s fine, dad. I shouldn’t have been messing with stuff”.

Vlad scoffs, “it shouldn’t have been accessible for you to mess with in the first place”. Making both parents look thoroughly chastised, good.

Daniel glares at Vlad, “I would have picked the lock anyways”.

Maddie glares at his back for that, “since when did you pick up lock picking, mister”.

“Uh, Tuck has a bad habit of locking himself out of his house? Sam thinks it’s too funny to help and he can’t pick a lock to save his life?”.

Vlad grins meanly, “what a budding little criminal you are”.

“Hey!”.

Vlad studiously ignores the glares Maddie and Jack throw him, clearly trying to discourage Vlad from being a more illegal bad influence on their kid. Vlad putting a proud hand to his chest, “perhaps you shall follow in my footsteps and start robbing banks”.

Maddie’s scowl can be heard in her voice, “Vlad”. Jack pouts at him, “you know we would have paid your hospital bills”.

“I have no interest in being indebted to others because of money, such things are beneath me”.

Daniel gives him an affronted look, pity, “I am not robbing banks, what the hell uncle?!? Why would you use powers for that?!? I’d use them to, like, рⷬrͬoͦᴛⷮeͤcͨᴛⷮ people or something first”.

Vlad blinks at the inhuman ghostly subvocal to that, which he’s sure Jack and Maddie didn’t pick up on. They didn’t pick up on it when he himself did it, over that pesky little possession obsession. Perhaps Daniel’s own obsession was protection based… Vlad may have to cautious of that, as he could see himself bothering a protective obsession. Beyond Jack’s and Maddie’s well being, he hardly cares if his endeavours harm others. He’s not going to comment on his suspicions though, it was rude to out another ghosts, or halfas, obsession like that and opened yourself up for attack. Jack grins, “that’s my boy!”. Making Vlad roll his eyes at the large man.

Daniel flushes though and Vlad can pick up on the slightly concerned off put look on his face, the boy likely noticed something was off with his comment. That there was a strong pushy undercurrent of pure want in there and likely in his chest as well; even if he’s positive Daniel’s core hasn’t developed enough for him to genuinely feel it yet. Daniel clearing his throat, “so um, our accidents were really different then”.

Vlad smirks at the boy, who glares back, before nodding his head, “indeed. And I suspect my ecto-acne played a large role in my being in pain and perhaps also why I took years for my powers to develop”.

Jack nods, tapping his chin, “I really wish we knew exactly why that ecto-acne happened”. Vlad nodding readily, it was something they would probably never figure out. (He would later find out, due to his ecto-acne returning and Daniel trying to help him, that it was because of pop in the filtrator. He was incredibly infuriated by that, and Jack apologising profusely didn’t little to temper his anger).

Vlad eyeing Daniel, Maddie seemed almost done with the other wing back tear, “now, care to enlighten me on your abilities? It would be best to confirm if they’re the same as mine”. At the boy eyeing him cautiously Vlad rolls his eyes with a huff, “invisibility, intangibility, gravity nullification or floating in layman’s terms, enhanced senses, increased physical ability and durability, duplication, ecto-blasts, ecto-shields, transformation, overshadowing, healing factor, teleportation, body modification or contortion, mild electrokenisis, pyrokenisis, power augmentation, ecto-twister, and a resistance to anti-ghost tech”. He studiously ignores the proud smile on Maddie’s and Jack’s faces, they always got oddly proud over how powerful he was. Yes he himself took great pride in that, being able to best relatively any ghost he came across, but as full humans they should find that unsettling and perhaps it wounded his pride a little that they did not.

Daniel blinks in that owlish way again, Vlad’s going to have to talk to him about breaking that forming habit, then whistles, “well damn, uncle. That’s nothing to piss at”.

All three adults look at him disgusted. Vlad scowling deeply, “I would rather no one ever piss on me, Daniel. That is disgusting”. Right, he always forgets that Daniel has a rather peculiar and annoying sense of humour.

Maddie shaking her head while doing up the last stitch and standing up, stretching a little and handing her tools off to Jack to clean up, “alright, you’ll be good once I get you bandaged”.

Daniel looks over his shoulder and wing a little awkwardly, “uh, thank you? Thanks, mom”, and forces a smile at her.

She ruffles his hair with a genuine soft smile, “of course, Danny. You’re more than welcome to come to us if you ever get hurt, we can teach Sam and Tuck too if you’re more comfortable with that”. Jack holding up a finger, “and them knowing would probably be a good idea anyway. Never know when you’re going to get hurt!”.

Vlad sighing and massaging his temples, “yes of course, especially since as soon as the ghosts find out there’s another halfa, they’ll want to test your metal”.

Daniel blinks, “what?”, while Maddie sorts out which bandaging she wants to use.

“Fight you, Daniel. It’s part of how ghosts socialise and establish their standing compared to each other. Ghosts are very much rule of the strong”, looking to Jack, “you two have been sticking to teaching him combat, right”. Jack nodding readily, so Vlad nods back, “good”, looking back to Daniel, “now stop dodging the powers question. Your parents aren’t freaked out by mine, they won’t be freaked out by yours”.

Jack giving his son a thumbs up, “dont worry, Danny-boy. And ghosts vary a lot and you’re young and new, so if you’ve got less than Vladdie that’s likely super normal”. Vlad nods like that’s obvious, because it was.

Daniel flushes, “uh, well I don’t think I can do all that? But I think I’m, uh, stronger than I was a few days ago”.

Vlad nodding, “you were freshly formed, as it were, a few days ago. I doubt every single ability you’ll have would have developed immediately or within a few days”.

Daniel chuckles awkwardly and rubs his neck, Maddie tapping in his back to remind him not to move too much, making Daniel look even more awkward, “yeah I guess that makes sense”, tilting his head, “um, so far then, I don’t have anything you don’t I think? Invisibility, intangibility, the gravity thing, the heightened physical ability which I’m guessing is strength and speed and stuff, probably the healing factor, body morphing, I don’t think the voice echo thing counts as a power-”.

Vlad snorts, “it does not, good for intimidation though”.

Daniel makes a face at him but continues, “-my senses are better, and transformation”.

All three adults blink, surprised. Vlad titling his head, “you can transform already? Into your more ghostly appearance?”.

Daniel’s, “yes?”, is very awkward and mousy.

Jack beams and jumps, it’s rather embarrassing and childish. “Awesome! I bet you look awesome and very spooky!”, laughing, “it took ol’ Vladdie, like, six years to do that! And! He usually couldn’t hold it for very long!”.

Vlad grumbles, not pouts, grumbles at the man, “I was still healing and it’s an entirely deferent state of being, of course I had issues, Jack”. Jack just grins and laughs a little more.

Daniel tilts his head but chuckles at Vlad, “I think it’s easy, I mean sure I detransform, I guess, accidentally. And it’s kinda weird getting it to work, but when I really remember the how I can do it”.

Maddie nods, giving the bandaging a pat down before staring up, “alright, your good”, moving her head to be more in Danny’s line of sight, “you feel like showing us? Your other form?”, then looking at Vlad with a quirked eyebrow, “I’m sure your uncle Vlad wouldn’t object to showing you his?”.

Vlad waves her off, “oh but of course, you know how much I love to show off”.

Daniel looks at him blatantly curious, though clearly also nervous.

So Vlad steps back a bit and does a little bit of a dramatic bow while letting his transformation rings travel over his body. A little curious about Daniel’s muttered, “why are his black?”. Regardless, Vlad straightens up in his ghostly form, making a point to keep his feet planted in the ground.

Daniel stares a little, tilting his head at an angle that’s a little past humanly possible, “wow you look way different”, then snickering, “very vampire, nice horn hair”.

Vlad is well aware he is being mocked. Today he’ll tolerate such insult, since he’s effectively explaining for the first time being a halfa to another halfa who is also a child, his godson at that. “Yes yes, laugh it up”.

“Did you always look this different?”.

“Yes and no, I bulked up a lot and my hair changed. The fangs, ear points, and claws are all adult ghost traits as well”.

Jack grinning at Daniel, “meaning you shouldn’t have them now but will one day”, and only grins more at his son’s groan.

Vlad nodding, crossing his arms, “and if you get into fights, you’ll likely bulk up at least in ghost form. Now, you wondered at my rings being black, are yours not?”.

Daniel shrinks down a little, “I, um. No?”. And glances around, all three adults giving him encouraging gestures. Daniel flushing a little and clearing his throat, nodding a little. Vlad has a genuinely hard time not mocking the boy when he mutters a very quiet, “I’m going ghost”, before the white -different indeed- rings appear. Perhaps a… catchphrase helped the boy focus on the change? Regardless all three eye the more ghostly version of Daniel as the rings finish their job. Vlad’s almost miffed at how the transformation did seem easy for him, but oh well.

Daniel’s ghost form has a black hazmat suit with white gloves and white boots, his hair’s also a very shocking white. Vlad’s a little surprised his green eyes still have black pupils and white sclera, perhaps that would change as he grew into adulthood? Some ghosts did have black pupils and white sclera though, so it may very well just be the way his eyes are naturally. Daniel… looks incredibly similar to his human half, far more than Vlad ever did. Perhaps it was due to how quickly his ghost form formed? “Well you certainly don’t look all that different”. Daniel just shrugs awkwardly and jumps a little, remaining floating in the air after, at Maddie ruffling his hair; Daniel's hair waved around almost flame-like at the action.

Jack grins at Daniel, “I say it suits you! You have a pretty strong glow too!”.

Vlad leaning over some to hold his own arm up near Daniel’s having to phase through some of the boys left wing, Daniel’s glow is actually brighter than his own, if only by a hair. If Daniel was equal to him in experience and skill then Vlad’s not certain he could actually win. That was slightly concerning, on a ghostly level, no strong ghost liked the potential of a stronger one. But it was also quite thrilling, this boy could perhaps challenge him and could be something special if trained well; that prospect was incredibly enticing actually. Very thrilling indeed. “A strong glow is good, no godson of mine should be weak”.

Daniel blinking and looking at his arm, “so my… glow means I’m strong?”.

All three adults nod, Vlad standing back up right and crossing his arms again, “a stronger glow means you’re shedding off a high output of ecto-energy, it means you’ve got a high amount of natural ecto-energy. That your body self produces and filters a larger amount of ecto-energy”, humming, “though it may very well be that all halfas are powerful by our nature, as it is we don’t have to expend our energy to merely exist; however it does use up energy to remain in our ghost form”.

Daniel nods, soaking up the information, oh having an apprentice was going to be delightful. “Yeah I’ve notice I get tired after a while”, tilting his head a little at Vlad, “and so we, I, am a halfa?”, and looks to his parents for confirmation as well.

All three nodding readily, Jack beaming, “half a ghost, half a human; that’s what all the ghosts went with! Even if most of ‘em would lie just to amuse themselves”.

Vlad shrugs, “many ghosts are alright enough, particularly the useful ones”.

Daniel frowning, “yeah I don’t think I’m going to be ‘using ghosts’”. Vlad scoffing and waving the boy off, far too moral, this one.

Maddie smiles, pleased, “well you will likely get into fights, Vlad’s made it clear that’s unavoidable, so I fully expect you to take target practice and your martial arts a little more seriously”.

Vlad gesturing with a hand, “and ghost power training, of course. A well aimed ecto-blast will get you much further than a thrown punch”.

“And if I can’t do that?”.

“I’ll be baffled if you can’t, but everything has a work around if you look for it”, grinning all fang, “hold up a hand and imagine that tingling vibration throughout your entire body flow into the air above your palm, condensing into a tight pulsating sphere”.

Daniel blinks but stares at his hand, furrowing his brows in concentration, he jumps a little as a green ecto-blast forms above his palm. Him startling himself, of course, results in him losing focus and sending the blast into the ceiling. Him laughing awkwardly, “oops?”.

Jack smacks him on the back, making the boys wings twitch, “no worries, Danno! You should have seen the amount of things Vladdie set on fire!”. Daniel chuckles, loosening up a little, until Jack grabs his wing to inspect them anyways, “now let’s have a look at these! Since you’re all patched up now!”, and basically pulls the floating Daniel off his stool.

The boy giving both Vlad and Maddie slightly pleading looks, Vlad shakes his head while Maddie gives him a soft smile, “just let your dad get it out of his system”. Daniel groans but does let Jack effectively manhandle him, spinning him in the air and stretching out his wings to inspect them better. Eventually Daniel stuck holding onto the table when Jack decides to see just how long Daniel’s wing span was. They were needlessly long wings, frankly. His humerus bone was practically the length of half of Vlad’s wing. Incredibly showy, like a peacock. He’ll have to see if that’s just for show, or if the boy can put genuine speed and power behind them.

Maddie crossing her arms at her husband, “Jack, dear, that’s enough, you’re going to give him a strain at this point”. Daniel grumbling a, “thanks mom”, when Jack sheepishly lets go of the poor boys wings.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Danny-boy!”.

Daniel glances around awkwardly, “it’s, uh, okay, dad”, rubbing his neck, “it’s better than you being scared of me or trying to hunt me or something”.

Jack’s, “we’d never!”, is thankfully immediate. As it should be. Daniel was his own son after all. Vlad would be quite displeased if he found out they were hunting him in any capacity.

Vlad blinking before smirking, turning his head towards the kitchen entry way, based on sound and scent those friends of Daniel’s have shown up, ears pressed up to the door perhaps. Vlad chuckles meanly, “you two can come in, instead of trying to spy. Your friend is perfectly fine”.

Daniel jerking in the air before zipping over to the door as if it was mere second nature to him already. Vlad is absolutely a bit jealous, not that he would admit to such feelings. Jack elbowing him, “he’s got the hang of this a lot faster than you”. Vlad snarls at the man, it’s a ‘playful’ threat and Jack absolutely knows that.

Meanwhile the door opens, a pale goth and dark-skinned geek poking their heads in; the goth’s scowling and the geek’s nervous. Them both rearing their heads back a little at Daniel’s face being practically right in front of their own, “hey! It’s okay, they’re cool, my uncle’s stupidly vampire themed though”.

Vlad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it’s stylish, boy. And I will not be explaining myself to your friends as well”, waving dismissively at the boy, “feel free to burden yourself with that explanation instead”. Regardless the two teens stare at Vlad, wide-eyed.

“So Danny’s not going to get shot, caged, or strapped down?”

“Danny-man, you’re either extremely lucky or stupidly unlucky, take your pick”.

At least the boy had good friends, ones that were seemingly serious about fighting his parents should they harm him. Good. They made for acceptable playmates.

Daniel blurting out, “did you guys notice I don’t have a freaking shadow anymore?”.

Both the teens snapping their heads down and blinking. Tucker shaking his head, “huh. You’d think that would be more noticeable”.

Vlad transforms himself back human as he walks over, eyeing the two teens and drawling, “you'd be surprised how much most people fail to notice”.

Sam snorts at him, “oh you’re the weird uncle, that explains so much”, pointing at Daniel, “doesn’t it, you weirdo”. Daniel simply pouts fondly at her.

Vlad quirking an eyebrow, “the ‘weird uncle’?”.

Daniel eyes him, still floating in the air, “you say some really strange stuff, okay? Like, you swear using food. That’s weird”.

“Far better than using foul language”.

“Gonna disagree on that one”; Daniel transforming back human and landing on the ground almost gracefully. Vlad sighing when the teen realises he’s sans a shirt, covering up with his wings before running up stairs for a likely baggy tank top. Daniel’s friends actively laughing at him before running into the house fully and chasing the boy up the stairs shouting about getting more ‘blackmail’ photos.

Vlad shaking his head before turning to Jack and Maddie who were watching the teens fondly, “I’m assuming you’re going to be doing quite a bit of sewing to make his clothing wearable for at least the time being”.

Maddie nodding at him, “there’s no way he’ll let me cut up his nasa varsity jacket but otherwise, of course”, frowning a little, “so you think he’ll be okay?”.

Vlad looking back up the stairs, “he seems accepting of it, shifting into comfort easily. With support there would be no reason for him not to be mentally well. Physically? I’d say he’s better off than I was, and his ecto-energy feels stable for a child ghost”. Maddie sighs in happy relief and Jack beams, giving him a thumbs up. Vlad still frowns at them, “you two got lucky with him, do not repeat this”.

Maddie’s, “we won’t”, is at least very firm. Jack nodding right after, looking up the stairs himself, “I can’t believe he’s not upset with us”.

Vlad shakes his head, “he blames himself for it entirely, regardless of that being incorrect. Which would be concerning, if I wasn’t fairly certain that he’s okay with this change. Confused, unsure, and nervous, perhaps. But not upset, angry, or sad”.

Maddie sighing again, “good. That’s good. And I agree, he seems more worried about our reaction than about being the way he is now. Being a halfa”, smiling a little, “though I’m sure he’ll ask a lot of questions”.

Jack nodding strongly, and crossing his arms, “as any curious teen should”.

Daniel’s head pops back out of his bedroom, “Vlad! Can we survive in the void of space?!”.

Vlad absolutely knows that tone meant the boy was going to do something impressively stupid. Flying to space most likely. “Yes. But you’re too new, if you lose your ghost form in space and that high up you’ll be in trouble”. The teen pouts at him, “boo. You suck”, and ducks back into his room.

At least it looked like he found a shirt he could get on.

Vlad giving Maddie and Jack pitying looks, “he’s quite the handful”.

Maddie putting a hand over her face and laughing a little. Jack chuckling loudly, “V-man! You were here when Danny attempted to eat a blob ghost!”.

“I unfortunately remember that and do not understand how that didn’t kill him”.

“Neither do we!”.

Maddie shaking her head and eyeing Vlad, “will you be staying a while?”.

Vlad inclines his head, “oh but of course, Maddie dear”, grinning, “I have a young halfa godson to apprentice after all”.

Jack laughs rather awkwardly, not unlike his son, “just don’t forget he’s our son! Don’t do too much of the parenting for us!”.

Vlad smirking, “I make no promises”; Jack, the utter fool, thinks Vlad’s joking. Vlad is not joking. If he can make an heir out of the boy then all the better, Jack and Maddie were hardly truly good parents even if Vlad himself highly doubts he’d be any better. However, Vlad was a halfa, and so was Daniel. Even if Jack and Maddie were truly great parents they wouldn’t be able to fulfil all his needs or fully relate to him. Vlad can and will.

Maddie sighing, picking up better that Vlad’s intentions weren’t exactly pure. “Please don’t. I know he’s a halfa, like you, but try not to get dangerously possessive of him?”.

He scoffs, moving to head upstairs, sending away his wings to make the stairs and hallway easier to navigate, “oh it’s much too late for that, I’m afraid”.

At least they follow him up, smart. Pointless, but smart. Besides, he doesn’t truly believe he can actually get Daniel as exclusively his or under his thumb in any sense. That boy was too moral and headstrong… and chaotic. Vlad opening the boys door to him standing ‘threateningly’ over his friends, wielding fist fulls of feathers like bombs; his friends already have a noteable amount of black and white feathers on them. Vlad sighing, “Daniel, why are you ripping out your feathers?”; Jack is wheeze laughing and Maddie looks like she thinks she’s won.

Daniel blinks, looking at Vlad but otherwise not moving, fist fulls of feather still held up in the air, “I claim comedic effect?”.

Tucker smirks, spitting out a feather, “he’s trying to suffocate us”.

Samantha’s smirk is far more mean, “i threaded some beads into his feathers earlier, he only just noticed. I am very smug”.

Daniel throws his feathers at her without hesitation. Vlad puts a hand to his face and sighs heavily, this boy was a menace in all the wrong ways and his half death was only going to encourage him.

Then Tucker looks to Vlad, “oh, I hacked your company by the way, just in case you abduct Danny or something”. Then going back to smacking Daniel and his wings, while the boy basically assaults both of his friends with the feathered things. Samantha also taking the time to look at Vlad, pointing aggressively at him, “and I have enough money to have you fully killed by somebody who has nothing”. Daniel smacking her harder with a shouted, “murder is bad!”.

Daniel’s friends were not going to help reel the boy in at all. As much as Vlad loves not being alone any more and the prospect of teaching another halfa, he’s a little concerned over what’s been given to him.

Maddie scowling, putting her hands on her hips, “Danny! You’re going to rip the stitching!”. While Jack cheers this mess on, “you go! Danno!”.

Hmmm, yes Vlad’s plate is going to be very full and he’s gotten himself involved in quite the half dead mess.

End.

Prompts: After the accident, the Fentons can't help but notice something wrong with Danny. And since Danny also has that terrible symptom of "being a teenager", he refuses to tell them anything. So they are reaching out to the only person who could possibly help: an old friend in Wisconsin. After the accident, Danny no longer has a shadow, and he isn't the first person to notice its absence. Ghosts have wings. Humans don't.Unfortunately for Danny, his body did not get the memo. In another universe, Maddie and Jack did visit Vlad in the hospital, and stayed in contact. What happens when Danny has his accident twenty years later?

#danny phantom #phandom #phicphight24 #phic phight 24 #danny fenton #maddie fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #jack fenton #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #vlad masters #wing au #wing fic #feathers #reveal #identity reveal #badger cereal #mentor vlad #Danny's a little shit #and vlad's not much better #good friends Maddie and Jack #protective sam #protective tucker #danny's accident

[ballcrusher74]

WOOOHOOOO IM ALLOWED TO ASK ALOT OF QUESTIONS YIPEEEE!!!!!

▪︎Do you have any fandom ocs but ARENT lethal company that youd ever like to talk about :0?

▪︎What ever happened to Jawbreaker's (your sona) homeplanet after he left, I remember the story was he was exceptional but insubordinate so like, did anyone get fired for letting that guy just scramble away

▪︎who is your favourite oc presently! :3 and have you any miscellaneous facts about them?

▪︎what's in the gyatt folder

▪︎ since Metronoia (I hope I spelled that right from memory) is a dimension/reality hopper, how does other realities effect his state of being, has there ever been a reality the guy found unpleasant or dare I say scary‼‼‼‼‼‼‼😲

CRAKCING FINGERS. YUES. I LOVE BEING AUTISTIC ABOUT MY OWN CHARACTERS.

Yes, I do ! I have some roblox ocs, two being for the game Regretevator ! Broseth is just a completely original guy that I had created based off one of my avatars, and Gamma Ray was kinda ... a shameless semi-self insert character to be buddies with one of my favorite characters in game (Mach)

I also have this guy, Tixton ! Based off the now deceased roblox currency, he was apart of a friend roblox oc group called Investors ! There's a long story to it all, but Tixton's whole deal was him being an undead ghost guy that was so hellbent on the idea of being alive again (he died with the removal of tix, and was young when that happened) that he basically tried to steal someone's body. I seem to have a liking for making undead / weirdly semi-undead characters, huh

Moving on from roblox, here's Bumbo ! A guy that was originally made for a fanbase I really don't wanna name, but has now been converted into a BBIEAL / Baldi mod oc ! Originally I was gonna kinda leave him the dirt after leaving aforementioned unnamed fandom, but my boyfriend helped me redesign him for his own Baldi mod / fangame ^_^ <3 Now he is my bumbling sweet baby boy

Now moving to . Ourple FNF ... ? There was this guy I created, Aerguhbee ! Though, I very much fell off of keeping up with Ourple / FNF stuff in general for a lot of reasons, I still kinda like this guy. He had a bit of a sloppy story, and it never really was even completed, but from what I remember- he was a trapped soul within a security monitor, killed in his place of work as a nightguard. The monitor served as an eternal purgatory for him called 'Moire Edge'. He was able to manifest a form outside of the monitor in order to lure others into his forever limbo, under the guise of becoming friends. If anything, I might just bring back this guy as a wholly original character since I do still kinda fuck with him

And, before going onto the next question (FINALLY), I'll throw in a bonus : Deacon originally wasn't LC related ! He was a Toontown : Corporate Clash oc, which is such a MAJOR contrast compared to how he is now LOL . I don't think he really had much of story when he was a TT:CC character, besides the fact of being secretly miserable about his job, but I think that's really it. I'll admit I kinda miss his really bright yellow, but I am so much more happier with him now (featuring my toon sona / oc in the last pic but this ain't about him)

As for Jawbreaker's home planet, they most likely are continuing on their lives as normal. Metsu probably does wonder where he went off to, but hey- not their problem anymore. As for what happened to the guards that failed to capture him again after his prison escape, they most likely were shattered (killed) and their resources recycled

THIS IS A TOUGH ONE. I think it's also just because all my original ocs are very personal to me and I genuinely treat them as parts of myself segmented into their own stories and worlds. Though, if I really have to pick one, I think it would be my art deity guy- which, I am kinda getting tired of just saying that, so I'll just say his name : Abstrakt Mondrian. He is very much an oc of mine that I hold close to my heart, especially considering his story deals with grief, and it almost sounds stupid to say he is an oc of mine that has helped me through a lot ? Also, design wise, I just really like him. Like, I'm not fucking joking when I say that I've had this guy for 4-ish years and his design has barely changed at ALL . It's crazy

Metanoia jumping to different dimensions does very much fuck up his appearance, and there have been a couple places he's found very dissatisfying or horrifying ! These dimensional distortions don't last whenever he exits the dimension that causes it, but it's not that pleasant for him in the moment. These distortions can range from very minimal things, things he can handle, such as a simple change of colors or height, to distortions that almost make him unrecognizable and feel uncomfortable in his own body. Here are some quick examples I did of those !

( Btw, distortions can be fucking crazy. The main thing about them is they could be literally any style and still work, so if anyone wants to take a crack at one you can literally go insane and do whatever LOL )

#oc #ill tag this as oc for once. im tagging all the fandom stuff though lol #plekase ask me more about my ocs i love answering and infodumping so fuckinj bad

[trashpandato]

But we are real, real

“Who scheduled a meeting at seven in the morning?” Lena hissed, tapping the keys on her laptop with more force than strictly necessary.

“Um,” Jess cleared her throat, hovering near the door, “I believe you asked for this time slot specifically when the meeting was set last week?”

Lena pursed her lips. She had indeed done that, but that didn’t change how unhappy she was with that decision now. 

“Don’t let me do that again.”

“Of course, Miss Luthor,” Jess promised, scurrying out of Lena’s office before she could be subjected to any more harsh questions only minutes into their work day.

The meeting was…fine. Productive, even, once Lena managed to swallow down some snarkier comments that were on the tip of her tongue. The coffee Jess had brought her part way through helped a little as well. But then Lena got wind of an issue in the lab and she stormed downstairs without a second thought, sent the lab techs home with a few not-so-friendly words and mumbled something about “always having to fix everything myself” before throwing herself at the task for a couple of hours.

She was so engrossed in her work that she forgot about her scheduled call with Sam at lunch, and when her phone buzzed for the third time in as many minutes, she was about to throw it against the wall.

“I’m busy,” she snapped when she finally answered the call without even looking at the caller ID to confirm who she was subjecting to her foul mood. “A fact that should have been clear after I didn’t pick up the first two times you called.”

“Whoa there, grumpy pants,” Sam replied, a slight chuckle in her tone, “someone’s got a short fuse today.”

Lena sighed. “Sam. It’s been a day from hell.”

“Lena,” her friend’s voice softened, “you know you can just text me and reschedule our call, right?”

Lena sighed again. “Right. Sorry.”

“What’s going on? Is this a work-related hell or something else?”

“An early meeting with investors from Switzerland, and you know how rough those can be, and then a lab emergency that I’m currently fixing myself, and then I have to call my mother later today.”

“Well, that sounds unpleasant but like a pretty normal day for you,” Sam remarked, and even though Lena wanted to disagree and tell Sam that this really had been a supremely shitty morning and she had every reason to be a little irritable, thank you very much, she knew her friend had a point.

“Either way,” Lena mumbled after a moment, “I have to finish fixing this. Rain check on our catch-up call?”

“Fine. But maybe find one of those squeezy stress balls so you don’t end up biting anyone else’s head off today, okay? Well, except your mother. Go ahead and bite with gusto; she deserves that and more.”

Lena rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Love you, Lena!”

Lena disconnected the call and glanced down at her phone. There were a few notifications, some news alerts and stock market statistics, and the reminder that she had missed the two earlier attempts from Sam to call her, but no texts from the one person she really wanted to hear from. Sighing, she locked her phone, stuck it in her pocket and returned to the task in front of her.

When she went back to her desk later that afternoon, she found a man snooping around in her office and she was about to reprimand Jess for not alerting her about the intruder when the man reminded her that she had ordered him to complete a security check of her office that afternoon.

“Right,” Lena said curtly and waved at him to proceed with his task while she sat down at her desk to deal with a litany of unanswered emails that had piled up while she was in the lab.

Lena ended the afternoon with the call from Lillian, which was as unpleasant as she had expected it to be. It included the usual commentary about Lena not being equipped to lead the company, a few pointed questions about a delayed product launch and a small dip in stock values and ended with Lillian reminding Lena of everything she had ever done wrong in her mother’s eyes. By the end of it, Lena was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and drink a very large glass of wine and have a hot bath, preferably at the same time.

When Lena was just about ready to call it a day, finishing up one last email to request a full status update from the lab technicians by noon tomorrow, a small knock made her look up just in time to see Kara step into the dimly lit office. Lena looked back down at her laptop to check the time. It was almost nine. Lena sighed.

“So Jess tells me you’ve been on a tear today. Bad day?”

Kara’s voice was light and teasing, but Lena could see that she was looking at her intently, taking in Lena’s stiff posture and tired features. Lena was about to give Kara a summary of her no good, terrible, very bad day, but what came out instead was:

“You didn’t text.”

“What?”

“You didn’t…you always text me in the mornings. You didn’t today.”

A crooked smile settled on Kara’s face as she walked towards and around Lena’s desk. She crouched down in front of Lena’s chair, her warm hands settling firmly on Lena’s thighs.

“Are you telling me that the reason you’re grumpy and made life miserable for Jess and everyone else today is because you didn’t get your customary good morning baby text?”

Lena pressed her lips into a thin line, unamused.

“I didn’t hear from you all day. I was worried.”

“Hey,” Kara said softly, bending forward a little to catch Lena’s gaze more fully. “There was an emergency. I’m sure you saw the news? I know you did and I know you saw that I was fine, otherwise you would have called Alex and made her day difficult. It just took a bit longer than expected to deal with the cleanup afterwards.”

Unable to form words with Kara’s face so close and her hands so warm and steady on her legs, Lena could only manage a small nod.

“So what’s this really about?”

Lena broke their eye contact, choosing instead to focus on her hands in her lap for this next part. 

“Well, maybe I do like getting that text in the morning? A reminder that this isn’t some elaborate fantasy that my brain made up? That you’re real. That we’re real?”

“Lena,” Kara murmured, moving one of her hands to cover Lena’s fidgeting ones. Kara waited for Lena to look up again before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “We’re very much real, okay? And if you need more reminders of that throughout the day, I can make that happen.”

Lena nodded, unable to speak past the small lump in her throat.

Then Kara leaned forward again for another brief kiss before sliding her arms under Lena’s legs and picking her up and out of the chair, a move that resulted in a surprised little squeak from Lena.

Kara smirked. 

“Now, how about I take you home and show you just how real we are?”

#supercorp #kara x lena #lena luthor #kara danvers #sam arias #jess

[fantasy-on-parchment]

Yes, moobell, yes I can <3

You’re not him.

Summary: Evangeline begins to hear gossip around Wolf Hall of what is expected of her when Apollo wakes up to resume their wedding night. Anxious to not make a mistake, she seeks help in a field she’s not particularly skilled in…

Warnings: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OF AGE AND CONSENTING. Evangeline is rather innocent in this, as I imagine she comes from a rather pure culture, loss of v-card, MINORS DNI, unprotected. I don’t know what else should go here so plz let me know if you find something! This is my first time writing this so… I’m learning:)

I will edit when I read through it

“I wonder how she feels about how quickly he dropped into a coma…” the maid whispered from the hall. Evangeline halted in her travel down the corridor, wondering if she should make herself known.

“Me as well,” it sounded like one of the kitchen servants, “and right before their wedding night, they didn’t even get to… enjoy.”

There was a giggle from both parties, Evangeline’s breath halted in her chest. Were they really about to talk about her love life so openly?

“I wonder if it’ll resume when he wakes up?”

Would it?

“Oh most certainly,” the servant confirmed, “the princes have always been known to be very expectant after marriage.”

More giggles. Evangeline couldn’t breath.

She had never done any of what they were referring to, wasn’t even entirely sure how it worked. Obviously in school her and her friends would giggle when they found out what went where. But she never understood much of the appeal, and purity was always lectured to her by her stepmother.

The maids voice dropped to a whisper, “but how expecting will he be of her?”

Evangeline cringed, would they please stop giggling!?

“Oh very, it’s all the kitchen is talking about. The princes like their woman to be experienced, less for them to deal with—“

Evangeline chose this point to turn down the corridor, interrupting the conversation with an innocent look on her face. She came upon the two young women, both with their hair pulled into tight buns atop their heads. She turned her lips up into an unknowing smile as the girls gawked in shame.

“Your majesty!”

“We were just—“

She held up a hand, “I was simply passing through on my way to have a private dinner. I did not hear any of whatever you believe you have the time to gossip about.”

She hated being rude, or even formal with the castle workers. She treated her personal maids as friends, and thanked the staff any chance she got. But she couldn’t help the bite that entered her voice, feeling like their conversation had been an invasion of privacy. It was no one’s business what her sexual whereabouts were, besides her and her partner.

Not that she had a partner, ever.

She brushed past the girls without another glance, feeling their eyes on her until she turned into the dinning room. The hall was almost empty, since it was so late. The public dinner having happened hours before, but Evangeline opted for a private dinner.

So no one occupied the space, save a head of golden hair.

She stared at the back of his head, contemplating. Should she take the seat across from him, or opt for a seat further down the table and act like he didn’t exist?

She had gotten quite used to him the past few months, but that’s not to say they were friends by any means. He did poison her husband after all. Yet, out of every noble and servant she had to tolerate every day, his company was the least unpleasant.

She fiddled with her hands, unsure when the deep, half-hearted voice spoke.

“Well?”

He made no move to turn to her, simply lifting his fork to his mouth once more. As if he hadn’t spoken in the first place.

The question didn’t halt her hesitation, though, and he must have sensed that. He turned halfway toward her, motioning to the seat across from him. Evangeline let out a breath she didn’t know she was keeping, forcing her feet to carry her to where he sat.

She took her seat, adjusting her evening gown accordingly, and waited until a plate was placed in front of her. Potatoes, green beans, and a side salad. Tonight was nothing special.

She shifted nervously, truth be told, she couldn’t shake her head of what she came across in the corridor. She knew it was something she’d have to confront at some point in her life, most likely in this marriage. But with everything going on the past year, it definitely wasn’t in the forefront of her concerns.

Until now.

She cleared her throat, bringing Jacks eyes up to meet hers. She wanted to distract herself, and he was usually good for that: “So, what have you been up to today?”

The fate sat down his fork, shifting to lay his elbows on the table. She cringed at the memory of her stepmother swatting her arm when she would do that. “I must admit, not much. I haven’t had to travel today or make any trades.”

Evangeline inwardly cursed. She had been hoping he’d have some crazy tale to tell her. For what it was worth, Jacks was excellent at getting her wrapped up in a story, holding on for the ending. They always ended the same way. Jacks always came out on top.

She nodded politely, not showing her disappointment. Still, she thought she’d tug at loose ends, “Nothing particularly interesting?”

Remarkably, after a moment, Jacks seemed to lighten up at this. Evangelines heart leapt at the opportunity. “Actually, there’s been quite the fuss around Wolf Hall. All the maids and servants are gossiping more than usual.”

Her fork hit the plate with a gasp from her mouth, if her heart just leapt it wasn’t beating anymore. But she was certainly breathing faster.

“What have you heard?” She demanded.

When he didn’t respond immediately, she repeated herself. But he simply rested his head in his hands, taking a moment to study her with a tilted smirk. He no doubt saw the shaking of her fingers, the bruises on her lips from where she bit too hard, and the desperation in her blue eyes. He leaned forward, she leaned back.

“Just that everyone’s excited for the coronation, Little Fox. The women cannot wait to see what dress you’ll pick out.” He said, his smile innocent, but his eyes still roved over her with suspicion.

Oh, of course. She took a deep breath. Her coronation was less than a month away, and the castle has been humming with preparations. It was part of the reason she chose to dine alone. She was bombarded with questions all day long, about streamers and flowers and entrees and lighting, she just needed some space.

“However,” the prince drawled, “I would love to know what you’ve apparently been hearing.”

Evangeline gawked at him. She had never talked about such risqué topics with anyone, most certainly not a male. She wasn’t even sure it was socially acceptable.

“Oh,” she tried to laugh it off, “nothing at all, I just get startled when there’s new gossip. You never know what could happen next!” She threw her hands up in a shrug, but she could see he was not buying it.

He hummed, shifting his plate aside and giving her his full attention, “So it’s personal?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She feigned calm.

“Mhmm, were the servants whispering something about you, Princess Evangeline?” He relaxed back in his seat. It was a common dining chair, but he made it look like a throne.

Evangeline opened her mouth, but quickly closed it. She wasn’t sure what to say, if she even were allowed to.

She settled for: “It was entirely inappropriate, nothing that should be repeated.”

But that must have been the wrong thing to say, as she watched his blue eyes glow brighter. His hun sounded more like a moan, and Evangeline wasn’t entirely sure what it did to her. He seemed to contemplate his thoughts for a moment, as if putting together the information she’s given him.

“Was it, perhaps, about you and… Apollo?”

Her food seemed to catch in her throat at that, throwing her into a coughing fit. “Jacks, it’s none of your business.”

“Neither was it their’s, yet they wanted to discuss it behind your back. Perhaps if you tell me, I can offer comfort.” He spoke the words calmly this time, without a hint of amusement or mockery.

But Evangeline wanted to laugh so hard at the idea of him comforting her, that she actually stopped coughing so she could look up at him.

She stilled when she saw how serious he looked. Genuinely, she thought he wanted to help. He sat straight yet looked relaxed, and his face rested in a position that screamed he was otherworldly. It made her second guess herself. If she were to discuss it with anyone, who else besides the person she’d been in close proximity with for so long? It’s not like she could discuss it with Marisol or her stepmother. Obviously not her husband.

She pushed her food out of the way as well. “I was walking in the hall when I heard a maid and kitchen servant talking about how I must feel about Apollo’s “coma.” I didn’t think anything of it until the conversation took a turn…”

She trailed off to catch her breath, fear crawling up her throat at what he might think. Usually she could take his mockery, but right now she was too on edge.

“They began…discussing… my husband and I’s activities on our wedding night.”

She hoped that would be enough for him to understand, and it seemed like he did, but he didn’t seem to process her stress. “And?” He asked, eyes roving over her.

“They said… princes can be particularly…expecting of their wives.” She began to fiddle with her skirt, not wanting to meet his eyes.

She sensed him shift uncomfortably, “Evangeline.”

She made herself meet his eyes. They were piercing, determined.

“You never have to do anything that you do not want.”

Oh.

She opened her mouth to clear up the miscommunication, but he was already talking.

“Little Fox, if the prince were to ever force you into anything, I would be right down the hall.” He was gripping the edge of his seat now, and she was scrambling to clear her mistake. “He wouldn’t get any—“

“No, no no no.” She threw her hands up. He looked startled for once, and she gave them both a moment to breath before continuing. “I mean, they would expect me to be experienced.”

His brows furrowed at that, similarly to when she first started explaining. He didn’t fully understand. “I don’t see how that creates an issue…”

Evangeline felt as if her throat was suddenly closing. She didn’t know how to admit she had never done anything with anyone, no matter how common it was for women to be required to “save” themselves. She felt foolish talking about a topic she didn’t have a firm grasp on.

Instead, she placed her napkin on the table. “Um, never mind, I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

But just as she stood, so did he. When she met his eyes, she saw understanding dawn as he must’ve seen the anxious look in hers.

“Oh…” he whispered, taking a moment to find himself before plastering a smirk on her porcelain skin, “well that’s an easy remedy.”

She stopped stepping away from the table, “Excuse me?”

“It is.” Jacks shrugged, “there’s plenty of young men in the village who would drop to their knees for a princess. Literally.” His smirk was insufferable, and Evangeline didn’t even know what to say.

So she settled, “Goodnight, Jacks.” And stormed down the hall to her room.

Evangeline slammed her door hard, hoping he could hear how much he irritated her at times. How was that supposed to be comforting? He simply dismissed her dilemma by telling her to find some random bloke in a tavern to fuck. Evangeline didn’t want that.

Evangeline wanted someone she knew, preferably a husband. But obviously that wasn’t an option. She wanted to at least be attracted to the male of her choosing.

Jacks served a good point in regard to fixing her issue physically, but not emotionally. Yes, she would need to fuck someone to actually get rid of her virginity. But she couldn’t just find someone she wanted to do that with that easily!

She needed someone she knew, someone she was around quite a bit, someone who would know what he was doing. Most importantly, someone who would understand it’s a one time thing.

She groaned, why was she even considering this?

Especially when only one name fit the list she created in her head. And it was someone she couldn’t even kiss.

She groaned, “Of course,” before frustratingly unlacing her dress and leaving herself in only her white slip. She kicked off her heels and threw herself into her bed, letting out another groan into a pillow.

She hated getting worked up over a stupid male standard just because Apollo wouldn’t want to deal with whatever her virginity entailed. It really wasn’t her problem if he was grossed out. Maybe he shouldn’t be partaking in the activity then.

But still, she had so many issues lately, she didn’t want another to complicate anything. So, if this was one she could fix, she'd fix it.

But that meant a very awkward conversation.

She wanted to scream, but instead she stuffed a pillow in her own face and forced herself to find sleep.

In the morning she stared in the mirror with a different plan in mind.

She didn't know what she had been thinking, asking such a thing of Jacks. There was absolutely no way he'd agree to bed her, and he would probably mock her for believing he'd find her enjoyable in the first place. It was absolutely off the table. Not happening.

So instead, she wore a thin blue dress so light it would blend in with the snow outside. It hugged her waist and dropped to the floor smoothly, accompanied by a slightly darker blue corset with frilly white lace on the rim. The light colors complimented her hair in an attention-grabbing way.

She'd need to grab a lot of attention if she were going to openly walk up to a stranger in the marketplace and shamelessly flirt with him.

She rested her hands on the counter and sighed, how was she to do this? Obviously, she was willing to go through with it, she knew when she turned 18 it would happen sometime in her future.

But what if someone recognized her and she was shamed for finding another while her husband was in a coma. She'd be called selfish for her selfless acts. But it was just what she had to do.

She stood straight and took in her upper half. The corset was flattering, but she found herself scooping her hands into each cup and pulling her breasts up higher. Perhaps more skin would be more enticing.

Without another thought, she turned out of her adjoined bathroom and into her room. She grabbed a dark blue cloak out of her wardrobe and tied it around her shoulders. She was doing this, and she would not think of backing out anymore. She wanted to do this.

Stepping into the hallway, she rushed down the stairs and into the sitting room. Nobles laid about on armchairs and blankets with pillows strewn about the room. Servants flitted about, and Evangeline quickly waved one over.

A young man scrambled in front of her, and she offered a warm smile. "Send word for a carriage, will you please?"

The young boy bowed, clearly happy to get away from all the rich faces in the room: "Certainly, your majesty."

It was as she watched him leave that Evangeline felt eyes on her. It was often people gawked, given she was now a princess when months before she was a peasant. But these eyes were suspicious and, as she scanned the room, most weren't focused on her face or unusual hair. Most were focused on regions below her neck.

All except a pair of blazing blue eyes from an armchair. They were burning with anger as their owner lifted himself from his seat and strode towards her with calculated steps. She wanted to step back, confused by the expression on his face.

When he finally reached her, his hand lifted as if he was going to grab her arm and pull her out of the room, but he remembered they had an audience. Instead, he cleared his throat, offering a hand.

“Your majesty, may I have a word?” His tone was polite, and it certainly didn’t match his eyes.

Evangeline stared at his waiting hand. If she said no, he’d probably cause a scene by dragging her out of the room anyways. But if she said yes, what did he even want to speak about? She couldn’t think of anything she’d done to anger him.

Perhaps another noble had brought something to his attention.

She smiled, “Of course, Lord Jacks.” But she didn’t take his hand. Instead, she led him out of the room and into a more private corridor.

This is when he decided it was appropriate to grab her forearm and aggressively pull her into an empty closet. He sighed as he closed the door and stood between her and the exit, his eyes running down her dress and taking in her curled hair.

Her huff of annoyance finally brought his eyes back to hers, “Can you please explain to me the reason for pulling me into a broom closet this early in the morning?!”

He crossed his arms and gave a pointed look to her bodice, “Where are you going dressed like that?” He demanded.

Her brows lifted, absolutely shocked, “Into the village to look for a willing partner, like you suggested might I add.” She put simply, it wasn’t like it was a secret.

His jaw looked like it might fall from his perfect face, “You’re not serious.”

“I absolutely am!” She crossed her arms as well, noticing how it brought his attention to her corset. His eyes could not get enough of her, it seemed, and it made her think back to her thoughts from last night.

But if there was no way he’d want her, then what was his issue?

“No.”

She scoffed, “Excuse me, Lord Jacks, but I don’t recall you having the ability to give orders. Especially over my decisions.”

She went to shove past him, sure her carriage was waiting at the front gates. But when she reached for the door, his hand closed around her wrist.

She gasped as she was spun around and her back slammed against the door. His solid chest was suddenly on her, his weight caging her in. The thrill it sent to her core was foolish, and she wasn’t sure she had ever felt such a thing.

“You will not,” he put so much bite behind his words she almost wanted to listen, “bed a stranger just because your little prince can’t handle a little blood.”

She was inclined to think he cared, and in a burst of confidence, wanted to test her theory.

“Why? Why does the thought of me allowing someone to touch me bother you?” She demanded.

“It doesn’t!” He slammed his palms on either side of her head.

“Then let. Me. Go. I’m losing daylight and I need to find a willing man!” She pushed against his chest, wanting to turn and leave the prince of hearts to sulk.

“But you’re not willing!”

“Yes I am!”

“You can’t be willing with a stranger!“

The outburst had her taken aback, confused by what he might mean. She let out a humorless laugh, “And tell me, who in this castle would willingly bed the princess who’s husband could have whoever she chooses killed?!”

Silence settled between them at that, and she watched his eyes shift between hers as he thought about another approach.

He seemed to take a deep breath before he started, “Do you know the first thing about what you’re planning to do?”

She rolled her eyes “Yes, I know what goes where, I don’t need an anatomy lesson, thank you.”

“No.” He leaned closer, his breath fanning her face, “Do you understand how much it will hurt?”

Her brows furrowed at that, she thought it was supposed to be pleasure, not pain. She shook her head, “You’re just trying to scare me.”

“No, Evangeline, this is not something you want to experience with a stranger.”

“I don’t have another option, Jacks!”

He growled, low in his throat, seething as he hung his head and curled his fists next to her hair.

She simply waited for him to realize he’d lost, for him to let her go.

But then a hand was at her waist, squeezing slightly, and another was tilting her jaw to meet his eyes. He pulled her close, “Doing what you have to do is not willing.”

She wanted to protest, say that “yes, it was.” But then his knee slotted itself between her thighs, hiking her dress up. His lips parted and his eyes followed his fingers and they brushed along her cape, over her shoulder, before undoing where it was tied around her neck. It fell to the floor seamlessly, and she inhaled at the feeling of his fingers grazing her skin.

What was he doing?

“Being willing is how your body responds to someone’s touch, how it feels like little fireworks erupting on your skin.” Her back arched as his hands found her corset, subconsciously pushing into him. “It’s breathing in their scent and being overwhelmed. It’s not wanting,” his mouth hovered by her ear, “it’s needing.”

She felt her hands place themselves on his chest, feeling lightheaded. Her thighs squeezed around his knee and she gasped when she felt his hands pulling her skirts up until he could get underneath them.

“Jacks—“

But she was cut off by her own moan when his cold fingers pressed against the warmth between her thighs. She was trembling suddenly, and his free hand came back up to hold her in place. He didn’t move his fingers, watching her reaction as if waiting for her to push away. She wanted to, she knew she should, but something suddenly washed over her.

He tutted, “Do you know how wet you are, Little Fox?”

Wet? She felt so embarrassed. The same feeling between her thighs had erupted on certain occasions. The night in the crypt when Jacks licked at her neck, for instance. But she’d never known why, and never wanted to ask someone.

But he had found it, and her eyes stung with humiliation. She wanted to pull away, but god it felt so good.

She whimpered when he pulled his hand away and out from under her skirts, his knee finding that spot once again. She felt even more humiliated when she ground down against it, feeling as if her body was reacting without her say.

But Jacks’ eyes held adoration as his mouth closed over his glistening fingers, groaning at the taste. He sucked them clean as his other hand formed a fist in her curls.

Then he was leaning over her again, his hand pulling her head back: “This,” his knee pushed harder, “this is willing.”

And then he was gone, pulling her away from the door and fixing her skirts. But before he left he tugged at her wrist again.

“I expect you in my room when the sun sets, don’t make me hunt you, Little Fox.”

When the door closed behind him, she found herself sliding down it, absolutely dumbfounded by what just happened.

But one thing he said filled her thoughts.

Hesitantly, Evangeline spread her legs and pulled her skirts up. She slowly ran her hand up her thigh before pressing against her silk panties with a moan.

She was soaked, somehow, but she had never been told before why her body would respond that way.

Still, she laid her head against the door. She was supposed to meet Jacks tonight, and it sounded as if he had specific plans. The thought made her face heat.

She didn’t have the ability to reach Jacks’s eyes through the entirety of dinner. Sometime between the morning and then she’d had yet another change of heart, realizing that although she had been willing, he had not specified if he was. What if the whole show of pressing his hand against her was to prove his point?

She shuddered at the thought, scooting her plate away and moving her chair back. She sat at a long table full of Lords and Ladies of the prince’s court, and many of them averted their eyes to her as she stood.

Folding her hands in front of her, she offered a tentative smile: “I hope none of you mind, but I’ve just remembered I still have some tasks I need to perform. I hope you all enjoy your dinner, but I must retire early tonight.” She hoped no one had noticed her glanced toward the window, where the sun was quickly setting.

When no one protested, she scurried out of the dinner hall and quickly up the stairs to her room. She locked the door and sat on her pink silk sheets, burying her face in her hands.

He probably felt like she was just a burden he needed to quickly get rid of, or that she was purposefully pushing him into this. After all, he had been the one to marry her off to Apollo. Apollo would be the one to want to bed her, not him.

She groaned, pushing off the bed as quickly as she had sat and storming to her curtains. When she pulled them back, just a sliver of sun had been showing. She took a deep breath.

“Don’t make me hunt you, Little Fox.”

He had been determined, then, if he wasn’t giving himself a way out.

But there was no way he’d want this, right?

Evangeline opened her wardrobe next, wanting to change into the most modest thing she could find. Hopefully that would send the signal that he didn’t have to do this.

Human or not, he had a choice as well. Obviously.

She pulled out a white dress with a neckline covering her whole chest. It had a fitted bodice and full-length sleeves. The bodice went to her waist and flowing skirts covered all the way to her feet. It made her cringe.

It was perfect.

After she had changed, she thought she looked a lot like one of the women she would see outside her village’s church. One of the ones who would often stop her to recite some verses. She had always hurried away, but at least the dress got the point across.

She wanted to wait a few more minutes to ground herself, but a sudden thought entered her head.

I’ll give you two minutes before you find me in your room, Little Fox.

She gasped at the intrusion, wondering whether or not to obey his warning. She didn’t want to cause a scene over something like this, but she couldn’t wrap her head around losing her virginity to the prince of hearts.

Still, she turned around, slipping on a pair of slippers before opening her door and slowly making her way down the corridor. Jacks room wasn’t far from hers, just a right turn and she’d be at her door.

For once, she wished it was further.

When she came to stand in front of it, she didn’t know what to do. Her heart was running miles in her chest, and she felt like she might sway on her feet if she didn’t do something. But she also didn’t wanna barge in, so she lifted her hand in a soft knock.

The door opened almost instantly, Jacks waiting on the other side to grab her wrist and pull her in. She almost cried out at the sudden movement, heightening her anxiety.

When the room stopped spinning, they both just looked at each other for a second.

She took that moment to take him in, the way he was her. He wore a loose white shirt, the collar held together by laces, and loose black denims. He looked rugged and determined, if the gleam in his eyes was anything to go by.

She watched him look over her dress, his eyebrows furrowing: “You changed…”

Not giving thought to the way he trailed off, Evangeline raised her hands and took a step back as he did forward. “Listen, Jacks.”

“I’m listening.” But his eyes were trained on her dress, as though he was glaring through the fabric.

“This morning was a mistake, I—“

That brought his eyes towards her, and he stood still, “Do you no longer want this, Evangeline?”

Her jaw dropped, dumbfounded at the thought of him worried about her consent. But, of course he would be, Jacks was a fate - not a monster.

“No- I mean- yes, I do. But I do not want this to be an obligation to you,” she spoke quickly before he could interrupt, “You obviously have a say here as well and I would never want you to have to do this if you don’t want…”

He took another daring step forward, processing her words. “Don’t want what, Little Fox?”

The smirk erupting on his face looked so predatory, Evangeline stepped back again until she was pressed against the wall. She willed herself not to stutter: “This… me.”

She wanted to cringe, waiting for him to mock her, laugh at her expense, then slam the door in her face.

He took another step, “And why, pray tell, would I not want you?”

She blinked in confusion, it seemed an odd question. “You’ve never expressed want towards me.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“But…” she felt her frustration building, “but, it’s not! You married me off to another!”

His voice was calm, but he matched her volume, “What are you afraid of, Little Fox?”

She ignored the question, regrettably blurting the first thing that came to mind: “You’re not him.”

That seemed to alight something in the fate, because next thing she knew he was in front of her. His elbows on either side of her head, “Say that again.”

It was a whisper, deadly, but she wouldn’t cower. “You married me off to him, he’s the one who wants me. He’s the only one I should want, You’re not him.”

There was a dark chuckle, low enough to be a growl. He said one word that startled her bones, “Should?”

“What?”

“He’s the only one you should want?” He leaned into her ear, “You always give yourself away, pet.”

She placed her hands on his chest, “You don’t want this.”

“Tut tut, wrong again,” teeth at her earlobe bit down softly, a shiver running down her spine, “You gave me an out, Evangeline, I’m still here.”

A single hand roved across her waist, his eyes taking in her dress again. “You’re right, I’m not him. He would have hated the way this dress hides you so well.”

When there was quote for a second, she took a breath, “And you?”

His next words would replay in her mind for the rest of her life, at least. As he hiked her knee over his hip, pressing against her until she felt…

“You look like innocence incarnate, and I can’t wait to ruin you.”

With a gasp, she was pulled into his chest as he hiked her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. This way the silk of her dress skirts slid up her thighs and around her waist, providing less fabric between the two of them. Evangeline stifled a quick whimper at the feeling of him… all of him.

Before she could fully process the length of him, he has them turned around and he gently laid her on the bed. The movement was slow but held a resistance that told her if this wasn’t her first time, he might not have been so gentle.

But if this wasn’t her first time, they wouldn’t be doing this at all.

She didn’t like that thought, and then she didn’t like the thought of not liking that thought… so perhaps, she figured, tonight it would be okay to simply not think.

That was when she felt his calloused hands running down her calves to her knees, and all thoughts flew out the window regardless of what she had figured.

He had placed her on the cushioned pillows in the middle of the deep blue sheets. She propped herself on her elbows and watched with parted lips as he settled between her thighs. His eyes were a blazing blue, glazed over as if he couldn’t get enough of her… but that couldn’t be right.

His hands rested softly on her thighs, fingers gripping slightly in a way that reminded her of what he might be holding back. He cleared his throat, “If at any point, and I mean any, Evangeline, you change your mind about this, you just have to say the word. Okay?”

Evangeline barely heard the words, feeling something warm build in her stomach and a pressure beginning to knot itself, she did her best to nod her head, “Okay.”

He nodded, leaning down close to her. She let her head fall to the side as his teeth grazed her neck, careful not to let his lips touch her. He let his tongue flutter along a spot he’d previously sank his teeth into, and she couldn’t stop herself from falling onto her back with a moan. He followed her down, pressing his chest to hers and placing his free hand on her waist.

After another minute of his lips roving her neck while her hands clawed at his shirt, he pulled off and dropped his head onto her shoulder. It was vulnerable, intimate…

“Jacks?” She practically whimpered. Was he going to stop? Was this it?

He’d barely touched her and she didn’t want it to end.

“Just give me a second,” he whispered, “‘gonna make this feel good, gotta get you ready, Little Fox.”

She breathed deep, she was affecting him. She could hardly believe she had such an ability.

After a moment, he lifted himself onto his knees, pulling her with him. He lifted her dress, “Take this off for me, will you?”

She nodded dazzily as he helped her pull the fabric past her hips, from there she pulled it up over her waist and head. Once it was off, she was left in a slip and a pathetic pair of panties she hadn't thought much of that morning. She cringed, feeling exposed.

But Jacks was staring down at her figure as if she weren't as replaceable as he had once called her. He looked as if he wanted to devour her, and it conflicted her when she wasn't appalled by the idea of being completely ruined by him. In fact, it made something inside her pulse, throb even. If he wasn't sat between her thighs, she thought she might close them in need of some friction.

But there he was, unmoving. Her slip was a pale white and hung loosely at her curves. It showed her figure blatantly, and she found herself trying to scoot back to cover herself.

Jacks' hands gripped her thighs again, tighter, pulling her closer than she was before. He was sat on his knees, so her chest came flush with his stomach as he leaned into her, "He might let you hide, Little Fox..." as he trailed off, she felt his hands grip her slips hem, "But, like you made obvious, I'm not him."

It was becoming quite apparent.

But still, no one had seen her body, and she couldn't help being a little scared. She was aware it would be somewhat necessary for the act she was looking forward to. She had also told herself she would never look to someone else for approval of her body, but she just couldn't help wanting Jacks to like what he saw.

He must've heard her thoughts, which shamed her more when he lifted her chin in his hand. She sucked in a breath at the glow of his eyes, she'd never get used to how unnatural they were.

"I've held your body on countless occasions, felt the curves and grooves of your waist and thighs. Dreamed of it even. I wouldn't be here in, admittedly, I didn't want to see what you hide under all those corsets.

She wasn't sure how he took away her doubt with one line, or maybe she was just intrigued by the thought of him dreaming of her. Had he dreamed of this?

When he tugged once more at her slip, she let him raise it over her head. The fabric glided along her nipples, and she shuddered at the thought of what his hands must feel like.

She didn't have to wonder long, though, because that's right where they landed when the cloth hit the floor. It was rushed, so abrupt she found herself landing back on the bed. He followed her once more. His hands squeezing, gliding over her stomach before finding her breasts once more. He twisted and teased, and she couldn't help her moans. She had never thought that action could feel so good.

When she arched her back, his tongue and teeth for her collarbone, the crook in her neck, the swell of her breasts.

"Jacks..." she whined when his hands left her, sliding down to her hips. He held down her wiggling, and she thought to thank him. But that would be weird, right?

The idea threw out the window when his tongue circled her breast, and suddenly she found a new favorite sensation as he bit down. He was so careful with how his lips touched her, making sure they didn't move in a kiss, and her heart panged when she thought about how much practice he must have with that.

He wasn't hers. He's not him.

She could feel that unfamiliar pool between her thighs again, and suddenly she wanted to be touched so badly she felt her legs spread on their own.

"Jacks?" It was feeble, quiet. She wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't hear it. In fact, she almost hoped he hadn't when his head lifted from her skin.

"Hm?" It was almost impatient, and she felt a smile form on her lips at how obviously he wanted to keep going.

She didn't answer him, though. Instead, she took a deep breath and laid her hand over his on her hip. She watched his brows furrow as she picked it up from her skin but understanding dawned as she dragged it to the hem of the pathetic panties she still donned.

A smirk broke across his featured, and she watched as he slowly slid off of her again. His mouth parted and she felt his fingers slide under the fabric, tickling the skin underneath. His eyes found hers again, dominating in the way they asked for approval again.

"Please." She found herself whispering, begging.

It was all he needed to slide the fabric down her thighs and over her knees. She closed her legs instinctively, and the look he sent her was so fucking intense it made her wonder just how rough he could've truly been with her. When his hands closed on her knees and aggressively pushed them apart, she cried out, but found an answer to her question.

The moan that accompanied the cry answered a different question entirely. Maybe... rough Jacks was something she wanted to see. Badly.

His eyes trained between her legs, and he returned between her knees to hold them apart. She almost sighed when he lifted a hand and dragged a single finger through her, watching her back arch the entire time he did.

And then he was hovering over her again, that same finger taped at her lips. The smell of arousal hit her nose, and he took her gasp as a chance to slip that finger between her lips.

It wasn't the best taste, but she couldn't say it was bad either. And by the way Jacks' eyes trained on her lips made her moan around the digit.

Then he was leaning in, his nose brushing her cheek, "Who is this cunt soaked for, hmm?"

She couldn't respond for obvious reasons, but it was also obvious he didn't want her too yet.

His teeth found her ear again before he whispers, "A hint, Little Fox? It isn't your precious husband."

Her cheeks flamed when his finger left her, returning between her legs. It circled the bud there, that she had tentatively touched once before but was so shocked by the pleasure it sent through her that she never did again.

She realized, now, he wanted an answer. She tried to relax from the feeling shooting through her, and whimpered out a squeaky: "You..."

He laughed at her pitifulness, and it was at that point that she realized her hands weren't doing anything.

Oh god.

She felt awful being on the receiving end when she had asked him, after all.

She tried to push up, but he kept her in place. "Jacks..."

His finger didn't stop, was actually circling her entrance now.

"Yes, pet?"

"S...stop..."

His movements halted, but he didn't pull away and instead eyed her suspiciously. "What's wrong?"

She refused to meet his eyes, instead darting her around the room. "It's just... shouldn't I be the one doing things to... you? Since I... asked for this..."

He hummed, and confused her once more as his fingers returned to their movements, "I am." He said simply.

"But--"

She was cut off as a single finger entered her, filling her with a sting and she cried out again. But his other hand came up to her hair, brushing and stroking comfortably.

"Relax..." his voice soothed, "It won't stretch so bad if you relax, let me in, baby."

She whimpered, trying as hard as she could to relax her hips. She matched his breathing, and soon the single digit felt less like an intrusion.

He groaned against her neck, "You're going to feel so good, just gotta get you ready first."

The breathlessness of his voice extended her pleasure, heightened her desire. "Oh..." she moaned when the finger turned into two. It stung, but not nearly as bad as before. They also brushed so lovely against her, scissoring probably in a way to prepare her. She felt her body arch off the bed at the feeling of them going deeper, even when she thought they couldn't anymore. It was delicious, he was delicious.

"Jacks... I feel something..." She said after a minute. She felt tight, like a cord pulled at both ends, like she was standing at an edge with the adrenaline that came with the feeling of falling.

And then the fingers were gone, and she was begging for them back. Little "nos" and pleas to him, it was submissive and pitiful. Evangeline didn't care.

He was gone again, shushing her calmly as he worked to take his clothes off. He faced away from her as her heart drummed in anticipation. She watched the muscles of his back move and pull against each other as he worked his pants down his legs. And when he turned...

"Oh my god..." Her jaw hung. There was no way, no absolute way.

He was the first she had ever seen, so it wasn't like she could compare him to anyone. But compared to his fingers... there was no way.

He chuckled, crawling over her again. She couldn't help when he rubbed against her folds, and she moaned. It startled him, his eyes lighting when he settled his pelvis against hers.

He hummed in thought, "Interesting..."

She furrowed her brows as she watched him wrap his hand around himself, and just like he accidentally had before, he brushed the tip through her folds, pushing lightly against that bundle of nerves. It had her whimpering, sobbing almost, it felt so good.

"Yeah?" He prodded as he continued, teasing her, "Does my dick rubbing against your clit make you see stars, pet?"

When her eyes rolled back, she knew he had his answer. He chuckled again, repeating the motion a few times to gather her slickness. Then he paused at her hole once more.

She felt her bones lock up, they'd taken their time, but here they were.

He lowered to his elbow above her as his other hand kept him in place, "I want you to relax, and remember to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?"

She nodded, wanting him to just do it, for fate's sake.

He took a deep breath as he watched her relax, then she felt his hips push against hers. He was entering her.

She gasped a breath. No. no, no, no, no. There was no way. She looked down, he was barely in, and she was full. So, so full.

"Too big..." she whispered, feeling herself squeeze around him, "You're too big."

He groaned when she clenched, "You can take it, relax."

She bit her lip, but he quickly pulled it out from under her teeth, "Breathe, baby."

She did, and he pushed further. Tears sprung, and she knew she couldn't hide them. It hurt. It ached and burned and felt like she was being split in half. There was no way any woman ever enjoyed this.

And yet, she couldn't imagine experiencing this with Apollo. She felt safe where she was, as Jacks wiped at the tears and traced smoothing circles on her skin. She hated how he felt so right between her thighs.

They both moaned when he bottomed out, feeling him hit that spot inside of her. It hurt everywhere but right there. She gripped his arms and felt him wrap his around her waist.

Then he was twisting them as he remained inside her. Suddenly he was below her, and she was straddling him with his hands on her hips and hers planted on his abs.

She felt unsteady, "Jacks...."

With a squeeze to her breasts, he smiled, "You've got this. Move when you're ready, baby."

She focused on the feeling and found it dissipating the longer she sat there. It was still achy, but it didn't burn anymore. She smiled knowing she was stretched around him, seeing the delight in his eyes.

She picked up her hips, and his hands helped guide her at first. But then she watched as his head fell back when she slowly took control, "Yeah, just like that... circle those hips."

She did, up and down, over and over. The pressure built as she listened to his groans and her whimpers. He pulsed inside her, and every so often his hands would slam her down really quickly so she would cry out, he would suddenly apologize as if remembering himself. But the more she felt it, she more she didn't mind how he got so lost in the pleasure he couldn't help losing a little control.

Suddenly his hand was at her back, arching her into him, and his teeth found her left nipple. She cried out, that sensation making her liquid in his hands. He moaned around her, and she did her best to keep moving. The pleasure overrode the pain now, and she felt so dizzy, so high on the drug that was the prince of hearts.

She felt her thighs begin to shake, and the whined, "I... I feel--"

"Let go, Evangeline, want to feel it..."

That was all it took for her to shout his name, her throat soar and her hips shaking. She clenched and unclenched around him, pretty soon feeling him let go inside her.

It was heaven, nirvana, ecstasy, watching his lips fall slack as his own eyes rolled. She stayed in her daze above him, watching. His lips looking so delicious, she wanted to feel them.

Yeah, feel them.

It was after she leaned down, placed her lips on his in the most fevered and passionate kiss, that they both realized what was happening. His mouth was reacting to hers, until his hand knotted in her curls and aggressively pulled her away.

She gasped as she sobered from her high, and his labored breathing did not even as he looked at her in a craze.

"Evangeline?" It was scared, hopeless, regret.

It took all of once second before she launched herself off of him, suddenly in a panic. Her knees nearly gave out when she stood, but she powered through, if only for the arm that reached to her.

"Evangeline!"

She stepped out of his reach, finding her slip and pulling it over her head. She had to get out, she had to get somewhere safe, so no one would know she died in Jacks' bed. Of all things, as least he wouldn't be blamed.

The thought of death crashed into her as she crashed into the door, her name being called behind her once again, accompanied by his feet hitting the floor. She pulled the door open and rushed down the corridor.

Curses flew left and right in her head, her bare feet hurting against the stone. But she found herself at her door anyways, pulling it open and closed behind her.

She crashed into her bed. Just breathing. Breathing.

Breathing.

She was still breathing.

Well, she didn't know how long the curse took. So, she sat herself at the pillows of her bed, wanting it to look as if she died in her sleep.

She waited and waited.

Crickets chirped outside.

Her eyes darted around the room. She took a deep breath, sat up.

She felt fine. The only minor uncomfort was the ache between her thighs... otherwise.

She brought her hands up into her vision, checking her any signs or a rash or something forming.

"I'm alive..."

I'm alive.

#smut #evajacks #the ballad of never after #tbona #romance #ouabh #jacks #prince of hearts #prompts #stephanie garber #angst

[skeptiquewrites]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @tackytigerfic (here) and @maesterchill (here). Emerging from my post illness hidey hole.

How many works do you have on ao3?

32, a number that both seems too large and smaller than I thought

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

254,835. Wild.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly HP, although once in a while I peek over at other fandoms. And I have a joint Check Please fic in the works.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All Drarry. None really surprised me but the final one, I hadn't realized it climbed that far up the kudos. Huh. 1. Yours Truly - my romcom fic about Harry feeling left out when everyone's coupled up, telling a lie that gets out of control, and also how hot magical ecology is 2. Home Truths - my Quidditch fic about the complications of fame, love of the game, Harry finding out who his family was and letting himself fall in love 3. Special Affinity - how quickly one can justify fucking one's coworker given a bonding spell while having no idea if the feelings part is reciprocal 4. Winner Takes It All - Draco feeling caught in impossible circumstances, working too much, caregiving for a parent, and how small kindnesses can mean the world 5. A Little Time - mistaken for a couple, forced proximity, Healer school, and everyone in a small town hating you and all your friends on sight

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I love responding to comments, but it takes me a while. I read every single one, and I try to wait until I have the time and energy to respond with something thoughtful. I'm months behind at this point.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm a fairly happy ending sort of person. I tend to go more for straight angst for drabbles and micros. Maybe Beside Manner? They're formerly bonded and dealing very badly with the dissolution.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, gosh, most of them. I'm most enamoured by the Big Damn Kiss at the end of Home Truths. I love No Distance because Harry and Draco are very much in love and not able to hide it. I am particularly fond of the end of Winner because I was able to leave Draco in a very good place that felt right for the fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really I think. I get the occasional rude bookmark rating. Once, a very unpleasant person who sent lots of hate for months over a fairly inconsequential aspect of a fic. And then there have been a few comments where it's clear the reader wanted me to write a different fic, which I don't really take that personally. Nice comments far outweight the negative.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not much. Tender, expressive, evocative. Light on details mostly.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I am not a crossover person.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think anyone has ever tried.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. Two by the wonderful Bluebubbling which I was thrilled by.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've always wanted to. I'm trying my hand with another fandom, but one day.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Drarry. It just hits different.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I'm one of those people who has a dozens of ideas. I think I'm unlikely to finish my Veela!Harry fic, I just don't think I have the range. I have yet to successfully write and finish a PWP. Would be thrilled to finish some of my rare pairs.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm. I think dialogue, efficiency, and atmosphere.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

More complicated or mystery-oriented plots, the mid-level between an ensemble cast and an intimate chamber piece, anything with significant length, spending lots of words on one scene.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

One of my ideas about writing is that not everything has to be maximally accessible to all to be an authentic expression in a fic. If that's what fits or feels right, go for it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

You know, I found out the answer for sure recently, and I will be keeping that information to myself. Highly embarrassing and yet formative. Let your imagination do the rest.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Winner Takes It All. Exactly what I intended, turned out beautifully. Some of my favourite writing.

tagging @magpiefngrl @lettersbyelise @lqtraintracks @quicksilvermaid @goblinmatriarch @teledild0nix @boxboxlewis and anyone else who is interested

#about writing

[a-mag-a-day]

There's a reason why i heavily disliked jon in the earlier seasons. He just reminded me so much of the people who used to bully me before. The ones that made school and work so hard. Especially when jon, although capable of being unpleasant to all, was quite obviously the worse to martin?

I used to be martin. I was treated the worst while my friends were just fine because they were somehow higher on the social ladder. EVERYONE KNEW martin was treated worst. Jon suddenly yelling was just something that made me so angry, knowing jon would never be that outright aggressive towards tim or sasha ://

To be completely explicit, THIS IS NOT CHARACTER BASHING. All characters in tma are very flawed people. I just don't think i see enough discourse about it? I see so many people trying to excuse jon's behavior instead of looking at it as the actions of a flawed person. you can't justify being an a-hole. There's no excuse for that.

Jon had to work towards changing.

And honestly, when i first heard about jonmartin as a ship i was deeply unhappy. And i know this had, in a way, something to do with me projecting myself onto martin. Even if not completely.

I think, honestly, seasons 4 through 5 were such game changers. You really have to give it to the writers. That was all thoughtful and considerate writing. There was no shying away from how jon was to martin before. I still do mourn a bit, when martin most of the time, wouldn't let jon apologize fully? He feels he has to stop him. And i see that as martin having his own baggage to deal with.

Of course obviously, i now very much love the two together. They've come so far.

This relisten. This episode. I think, just serves as a reminder that these two have crawled and climbed and fought for the love and companionship they exchange with each other. Jonmartin is a very, very, raw and human ship.

One of the best parts of tma is how realistic the character development and the struggle to be a better person feels

#a mag a day #tma #the magnus archives #episode asks #mod ashes #tma spoilers #mag 56 #ifacedeath

[tarotofzhivamoon]

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Pile 1

Some of the main blockages for this reconciliation are indecision and a whole lot of lack of clarity, accompanied by feelings of isolation, of not being supported and needing to deal with everything on your own because emotionally and mentally you know you can’t depend on the other person for help. This knowing doesn’t necessarily have to be true though because in the past either you or your person, or both of you even, have dealt with experiences that were sort of unpleasant and your minds have stored those unpleasant experiences to a point in which it makes it really easy for you to categorize, label and compartmentalize all these other experiences that happened after those moments. There are associations of new experiences with memories of similar past experiences that have really made it hard for the both of you to actually believe that you’re there for each other and that you want to offer and show support, but due to what you have gone through in the past, it was really hard to believe at the time, maybe it’s hard to believe now as well. It’s very easy for human being to just assume what the other person is feeling or thinking about us, it’s easy to feel like you rightfully know everything about them and about what is going on within them and that’s what gives it some form of realism, it seems like that’s actually what is happening, when in reality the other person could feel completely different than what we are assuming, but instead of asking or clarifying, we continue on believing the story that our minds have painted based on their behavior and comparing it to past experiences that go way deeper than romantic love or friends, down to the relationship we had with our caregivers and what we have seen around us along with what beliefs have been passed onto us. There could’ve been moments in which the support wasn’t there, where it was actually how the other person showed up, but it wasn’t all the time either; that lack of clarity has truly made you both go to really difficult mental and emotional places when it came to each other and your relationship and it has caused a whole lot of baggage; this is the root issue that —

If you enjoyed this reading, the full, in depth reading is available to read on P@tr30n which you can find in my masterlist pinned post. Thank you so much for your support💗

Likes and rbs are appreciated🦋

Pile 2

The main root blockages for this reconciliation are definitely well represented by either you, your person or both of you just effortlessly wallowing in such an unhealthy self-pity, refusing and clinging to move on from the past and just letting go of what has happened which results in you both beating yourselves up over past mistakes that you have made and taking those on as your full identity. Not only this but also not taking on a whole lot of accountability within the connection which has made it very easy for the both of you to simply allow this fear of failing each other to just limit the effort that you have been putting into this relationship when you were together. This is how the dissolution of the relationship started and how it’s been for a whole lot of time, until one of you actually started to see things for what they are and actually put some of that mindset behind, trying to guide the other towards doing the same thing in attempt to save this relationship but it just was too late. The two of you just couldn’t move on from that fear of disappointing the other, maybe it was warranted to be afraid of that due to some criticism or an issue in communication that has caused the both of you to take things personally, to feel like you were being blamed for everything that was going wrong in the relationship almost like you were passing blame from one to the other back and forth, but it’s also been something that you have heavily experienced before in other relationships too. There might’ve been small mistakes that lead to bigger problems or even past criticism, small experiences that have had such a big impact on the both of you and made you believe that it’s so easy to disappoint another, that if you can’t meet their expectations, then you are just doomed because you messed up so badly to a point in which you lost value, the other person might not want anything to do with you anymore. There’s a sense of catastrophizing everything, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at each other or when the other messed up, it wasn’t such a big deal compared to when you both individually messed up and the other would speak up for themselves, in however way they knew best at the time. If you messed up, it was like it was the end of this relationship and those mistakes kept daunting you both until —

If you enjoyed this reading, the full, in depth reading is available to read on P@tr30n which you can find in my masterlist pinned post. Thank you so much for your support💗

Likes and rbs are appreciated🦋

Dividers by Kawaii-Lau on Tumblr🦋

#tarot reading #pick a deck #pick a pile #pick a reading #tarot #tarot blog #pick an image #pick a photo #pick a picture #pac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo sun #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #reconciliation #love tarot reading #love tarot free #love tarot spread #love #lovers #separation #no contact

[jaybleu25]

Part 1 Of: Experiments I've never really posted stories on here before, so this is super new to me. I hope you all enjoy it though! If people like it, I might work on this more or post similar stuff! (Also, as an FYI, this is more of a script format more than anything, so hope that's okay for you all qwq)

---------

Luigi would be silently trying to sneak out of the house. However, he wouldn't get very far.

"Lu?"

Luigi would freeze up. Mario would walk up behind him. "Where are you going?" the curious brother asked. "Just to see the professor," said Luigi totally un-suspiciously. "Well, if that's the case, why were you trying to sneak out to do that?" asked Mario. "I...thought you'd say no to it if I told you about it," Luigi responded. Mario would be confused. "Why would I--" He would then realize. "Wait," said Mario, "he's not doing another experiment is he?" Luigi would be hesitant. He knew how much Mario didn't like the idea of him doing those, but they were important. "Maybeeee...?" said the brother hesitantly. Mario now had a visible look of concern on his face. "Luigi, you know how much I don't like you doing those," stated Mario. "You always end up getting hurt." "I know, but he said it's important..!" pouted Luigi. "He always says that!" complained Mario. "Why can't he just use Gooigi or something for his experiments??" "Because he needs an actual person for it!" responded Luigi. "And...nobody else wants to." Mario was hesitant. He didn't want to let Luigi go and risk him getting hurt like the previous times. They were called "tests" for a reason. They were unfinished. E. Gadd would call Luigi over to test out something he was working on, and most times something would go wrong. That was the pattern. Luigi would leave the house, and he would come back injured in some way. Sometimes the injuries would be small, a few scratches. But sometimes they would be major, like a sprain or a fractured bone. While the professor would figure out the issue eventually, the projects he tried to work on would always come with trial and error.

Mario was against Luigi being hurt in any way. They already have enough to deal with, having to go on adventures constantly and facing deadly foes, so the professor calling Luigi over to his lab to do testings was an unpleasant cherry on top.

However, his brother seemed determined to do this. Mario would eventually give in. "Fine..." groaned Mario. "But I'm coming with you." "Okay!" happily responded Luigi. If he could be honest, he preferred Mario being with him anyways. He still didn't like being on his own. And if this was the only way Mario would let him visit the professor, he would take it. Soon enough, both brothers would leave the house.

#mario #luigi #angst #tw injury

[utilitycaster]

I'm Reading the Drizzt Novels and You Can't Stop Me: Homeland (and some anticipated questions)

Welcome to yet another ongoing series from me, a person who should be doing other things and may abandon it but also frankly will do this for her own entertainment regardless of whether anyone else cares. Let's back up first; if you're not in this car with me, get out of the rearview mirror.

Until now I have pretty much only read the Drizzt novels in situations where I was unwell, tired, or without another easy means of entertainment. Specifically, I read the first few while quarantining with a mild but still unpleasant case of COVID in late 2022, and then some others while dealing with catching up at work/post-illness fatigue/the general vibes of December in the northeast and Midatlantic states of the US. This caught me up to book 6, which represent the scene-setting; more on this later.

I then read Book 7 on a long train ride with nothing else to do, while very tired and probably a little hungover, in January 2023. I enjoyed it, in part because Wulfgar, who I do not care for, dies. (spoilers I guess? I'm not explicitly avoiding spoilers because these books are 30+ years old, but I'm not seeking them out, and I believe he comes back to life eventually).

I then proceeded to read Real Books (TM) for the remainder of 2023, some of which I can recommend highly and some of which were dumber than Wulfgar. Flash forward to getting my car serviced in the tail end of December 2023. I intended to bring my laptop. I did not. I also intended to bring headphones. I did not. And so, with a phone with so-so battery and little interest in watching HGTV, I read book 8. And I thought "what if I started doing this, because I can knock out one of these motherfuckers in a day if I try hard enough." I then thought "what if I slam books 1-7 again and do a book a week in 2024?"

Clearly I did not do this, because again, I have other books to read and things to do. However, I have finally, after another long-ass train ride, finished a reread of book 1. And so, with an unclear but hopefully from now on twice a month at least (?) update schedule, I bring you: Homeland. The rest of these posts will probably be way shorter.

For anyone who is not familiar with Drizzt or Forgotten Realms or whatever: this is a weird choice you've made. Anyway. Forgotten Realms is THE iconic D&D setting; it's where both the Baldur's Gate series is set as well as the D&D movie plus all kinds of adventures. What's it like? Well, it's basically The Tough Guide to Fantasyland, for all my Diana Wynne Jones fans out there. Do none of these references work for you? You'll just have to pick it up as we go along.

The Legend of the Legend of Drizzt is basically, as far as I know (and I don't know much) R.A. Salvatore was hired to write some cool adventures in a D&D setting in the early 90s. The plan, per the suits, was to follow Wulfgar, who was big and blond and very Conan The Barbarian which is, I should note, way more the vibe of D&D than LOTR much as we (D&D players) are loathe to admit it. However, Wulfgar had brains made out of one of the boring adult cereals: dull, and only slightly more fibrous than the fun cereals like Honey Bunches of Oats. Meanwhile, Drizzt, his drow buddy, fucking ruled. And so, after writing three very sword-and-sorcery (or more accurately, scimitar-and-wizardry) books, Salvatore returned to fill in Drizzt's backstory. And thus we begin in Homeland.

Drizzt Do'Urden is a drow, or dark elf, which in this setting are almost universally evil because they worship Lolth the spider queen. Is this Not Great? Yes. I also am reading The Wheel of Time, which is Even Worse About Biology As Destiny. The main purpose of this book is to cover Drizzt's childhood from when he leaves the underground drow city of Menzoberranzan.

Drizzt's mother is called Malice, unironically. The naming of drow makes no fucking sense, while we're at it; Malice, Zaknafein, SiNaFay, and Alton DeVir are all supposed to be from the same language? I'm not buying it. ANYWAY. Drow society is matriarchal bc spiders and because, as this post says, Salvatore REALLY wanted to be stepped on. Drizzt was born the third son, and was going to be sacrificed to Lolth because third sons are useless. His birth was ALSO being used by Malice to fuel an attack on House DeVir, because if you slaughter a whole-ass house in Menzoberranzan it's admirable of you, bc ontologically evil; and Lolth powers are increased by childbirth or some jazz.

Several important things happen here, pretty much all simultaneously, heralding Our Chosen One (Drizzt):

The attack on House DeVir goes super well for House Do'Urden

The second oldest brother, Dinin, kills his wizard elder brother (known as the elderboy by the creative geniuses of Menzoberranzan) which means Drizzt can survive because they need a replacement wizard boy.

We learn that Drizzt's father (one of Malice's several consorts) is Zaknafein, who fucking hates his life and how shitty drow society is but also is really good at murder and so he kind of hangs out doing that for House Do'Urden

A wizard who melted his face off fails to kill Alton DeVir, the last of the house of DeVir, which means technically House Do'Urden's attack was illegitimate. However, Masoj Hun'ett, of another powerful house, kills the faceless wizard and Alton takes the wizard's place, but desires VENGEANCE.

Drizzt has lavender eyes but is not blind. His eye color will come up approximately a zillion times. I considered counting, but trust me it's SO many.

The rest of the book covers the following, roughly in order:

Drizzt is super good at everything from a young age; he is placed in the care of his only full sibling, Vierna. Zak manages to successfully argue that Drizzt's dexterity is SO good that he HAS to be a fighter and not a wizard, which permits him to train Drizzt, who is, as discussed, good at everything. He almost mercy-kills him before school because he'd rather his son die innocent than become a drow, but also he hates the idea of killing a child, and also Drizzt is a really good fighter, and so it doesn't happen. They depart on bad terms though.

Drizzt then goes to fighter school (instead of wizard school) and is an excellent fighter but not naturally deceptive and backstabbing because he is Pure of Heart; he is constantly skirting trouble by asking such questions as "why do we all want to murder each other all the time though" and "why is our graduation ceremony a drug fueled spider goddess orgy"

Masoj and Alton scheme; Alton eventually learns in a hoisted by his own petard way that the faceless wizard was also of house Hun,ett, and that house is willing to help him strike back at house Do'Urden

Masoj has a magic panther named Guenhwyvar who likes Drizzt more than him.

Drizzt goes on a surface raid and fucking loves the surface, and feels bad about murdering the surface elves, so he fakes the brutal slaughter of an elven girl. Lolth sees this and doesn't like it one bit and blames the whole house.

Drizzt proves himself on other patrols, and realizes Masoj Hun'ett keeps trying to fucking kill him, notably on a patrol where they run into deep gnomes (svirfneblin). Drizzt spares one of them as well. Dinin is growing suspicious.

Malice realizes that Lolth is mad and assumes it's Zaknafein, known problem, but Lolth tells her someone already knows

Drizzt tells her about Masoj, under questioning

Drizzt and Zak reunite and realize they are kindred spirits who are like "wait our society is MAD fucked up and miserable" and excitedly decide to run away and stop being miserable, BUT Malice is Scrying on them the whole time.

Drizzt goes out to clear his mind and gets cornered by Masoj and Alton. They try to kill him. Joke's on them! Drizzt kills Masoj, Alton's own wand blows up and kills him, and Drizzt gets the panther.

HOWEVER joke is also on Drizzt because Malice approaches Zak and tells him she's going to murder Drizzt, to which Zak tells her to kill him instead. She does so.

Drizzt learns of this and runs away.

The entire book is threaded through with Drizzt's first person reflections, which are actually quite touching at times but also definitely kind of overwrought so I do keep reading them as if they are Sex and the City/Scrubs/Winona Ryder in the 80s (Beetlejuice, Heathers) diary entries

And so our stage is set. If I recall correctly book two is "you have your father's morals; and his tendency towards clinical depression" so we're going to have a rollicking good time (genuine).

#m reads lod #this time with plot summaries #i'm reading the drizzt novels and you can't stop me

[gabessquishytum]

okay a trans hob concept for you. honestly i think this counts as crack treated seriously because the basic concept here is "top surgery via Endless" but now i'm just emotional about hobstruction so. okay.

so. hob's in his soldering days, he's off fighting in france, and he takes a fatal wound. which would be unpleasant enough already, but a few of his mates definitely saw, so there's no going back to camp, he's going to have to make it back to england on his own. he stops in the first tavern he comes to so he can have a drink and a meal and a bit of a sulk, and promptly hits it off with a red headed giant of a man who says he's also travelling to england so why don't they go together?

obviously they wind up fucking that night and they head off in the morning, they fuck every evening when they stop for the evening, and a few days in hob's comfortable enough with his new friend that he goes on a bit of a rant about his body. because he likes his body! he does! his mam was a tall, strong woman and he was lucky enough to take after her. he's got broad shoulders, strong thighs. he honestly quite likes the way his waist tucks in just a bit, the way his hips are a bit wider than most men's. and sure, he wouldn't mind having a nice proper big cock, but he likes the one he's got, and he likes his cunt.

it's just his chest he doesn't like. because he's got fairly big tits, alright, and christ but they're frustrating to try and keep out of the way, let alone if he wants to actually be able to breathe. he'd happily cut them off, he says, but he doesn't imagine it would be worth it (because the healing would likely kill a normal man, he doesn't say. because he suspects they'd just grow back, he doesn't say).

and destruction of the endless, not yet planning to abandon his realm but spending a great deal of time thinking about inverses and destruction and creation and change, says that. well. if hob's willing to trust him, and he's alright with possibly a lot of pain, he might be able to help with that.

it does hurt. rather a lot. and the results aren't perfect -- his chest isn't quite symmetrical, his nipples aren't quite even -- but hob happily points out (to a fretting destruction) that bodies aren't perfectly symmetrical, destruction's work doesn't look perfect but that makes it look real and hob's so fucking thrilled.

hob's very clearly over the moon for the rest of their trek back to england. there's a literal and metaphorical weight off his chest. and destruction gets to see that... maybe he's onto something, with all his musings about his nature. maybe he really can be something more than destruction, or maybe being destruction doesn't have to be such a bad thing. he's done something right by this one human, and that has to count for something. maybe that can be a start.

-🐈‍⬛

Trans Hob is really something that can be SO personal huh. I'm not kidding when I say this ask picked me up by the scruff of my neck and shook me around like a kitten.

I may have started writing this as a fic (by which I mean I have 1,500 words so far) so I'll share a teeny tiny snippet with you <3

It’s always a risk for Hob to undress, whether he’s bedding a man or a woman. He’s had every reaction he can possibly imagine, from horror to pleasure. He thinks instinctively that his red headed friend won’t be too fussed by the big reveal, and he really isn’t. It’s almost like he already knew.

He doesn’t go straight for Hob’s tits, like most men tend to. His massive hands fall at Hob’s trim waist instead, smoothing over the spread of his hips. Hob keens softly and bites his own lip as his lower belly is so tenderly caressed. He’s wet already and he whimpers openly when a huge thumb and finger find his pulsing cock. He feels big between those digits, much to his surprise and pleasure. His companion hums, pleased and curious. Hob abruptly remembers that he doesn’t know this man’s name.

That's all you get for now ;D thank you for kicking my ass into gear to FINALLY write an actual Hob x Destruction fic <3

#🐈‍⬛ anon #the sandman #hobstruction #hoblethros #hob x destruction #nsft #cw surgery #trans hob

[humanheartharmonia]

To all fictives, factives, and introjects...

If you struggle with discomfort with doubles who are different from you, or with your source being different, that is an understandable reaction - someone who looks like you, has the same name, maybe even acts like you, having such fundamental differences can be startling, and if you have had issues with your identity, it may even feel threatening to you.

That being said, it is very unpleasant, especially if your system is active in your source's fandom or if you've been looking for sourcemates. It can also be very inconvenient. I really struggle with this. I avoid the "me" side of fandom, and I mute servers that have doubles in them, even though I feel I really ought to be more comfortable with them.

With all this in mind, here are some things that may help you.

You are you, and nobody else can change that.

If your existence is spiritual/metaphysical in nature, remember that there are infinite universes in which anything can happen.

If your existence is psychological in nature, different systems have different interpretations of characters, and that absolutely can affect what traits they were introjected with.

While I do not agree with 'you are not your source, you are a psychological construct made for [x] purpose', I do think it is healthy to have some degree of source separation, if possible. If it does not work for you, then it does not work for you, but I think it helps to be able to look at your source character/person and say "That is not exactly me, but I am a lot like them." Perhaps even, "That is the template from which I was created".

Most importantly: you are you, and nobody else can change that.

The most useful part of the post is over, but I have included some personal anecdotes below the cut if anybody is interested.

Let us look at two cases of this from our system - Hunter and myself.

Hunter is sourced from The Owl House. He is very strongly aroace and was incredibly uncomfortable when a new popular ship involving him and another character arose. It quickly became one of the "default" ships of the fandom, almost as popular as Lumity. He stayed around, but did not go anywhere near front very often. Recently, though, we have been able to contact him in our headspace. He now has antlers, and is now living his life as a forest elf, instead of what he was before. In his case, he found it helpful to distance himself strongly from canon. He is who he is, and he embraced new aspects of himself so he could feel more like himself. Because of how extreme his reaction was, we have stopped watching the Owl House and stopped engaging with the fandom, but we are still taking steps to help him distance himself. He seems to be doing quite well now!

Now, for myself. In canon, my source character is a presumably cisgender man using he/him pronouns. The way I am was actually affected by fandom - I am fairly sure that the amount of nonbinary headcanons influenced my gender as I formed. There are a great deal of headcanons and ships involving my source character, most of which I do not follow. I am a human, not a Zoroark, and I did not have any romantic relationships. I have found it hard to accept that just as character interpretations influenced my gender, different character interpretations have influenced other aspects of those with the same source character. There is a primal negative reaction when I see someone who looks like me, and has the same name as me, with similar aesthetics, who is very much not me despite everything. It is something I hope to lessen, and eventually get over. (In all honesty, I am mostly writing this post for my own sake.)

Separation is hard, and does not come naturally to us. We, as fictives of Team Sieben, are not the types who can read fanfiction and headcanons while feeling fine and unthreatened by other people perceiving us in a way we do not control. I wrote this post in hopes to build that skill. Maybe I will never be able to post art of myself and label it as 'fanart' without feeling nervous and wrong, but I hope I will at least be able to engage with fictives who are different interpretations and different versions of my source character.

#fictive #factive #introject #pluralgang #plurality #plural system #endo safe #traumageninclusive #plural #actually plural

[decepti-thots]

Hello this is out of nowhere but I found myself suddenly musing on Prowl and responsibility. You're a very good Prowl thinker, so I'd love to hear your thoughts on how he takes or doesn't take responsibility (or blame) for things.

This is an interesting question! It's one of those questions where I'm inclined to answer it with a bit of meshing of interpretations of the character that 'disagree' with each other, regardless of authorial intent, because between writers and series I think that gets a bit... messy. But that makes welding it together fun. So! Prowl and responsibility, let's go, completely free of the thought 'did any of the writers intend this?'

I think he's a character who has circumstances in which he takes on an inflated sense of responsibility, and circumstances in which he overly abdicates responsibility, without much in between. Which is the kind of thinking that real people do all the time but can come across in fiction as paradoxical I think, haha. On the one hand Prowl tends to assume he is the one person on which everything hinges and if he doesn't do something, it won't get done- more to the point, if he doesn't do something, it won't get done and there will be consequences. A lot of that comes from arrogance, because he thinks of himself as fundamentally more competent than the majority of people around him. And a lot of that translates into trying to control what other people do (often by controlling what they can do), so any influence sits with him first and foremost. And finally, a lot of it involves him feeling like he's the only one who will do what needs to be done when the thing is something he doesn't want to do. Which ties into the whole 'overblown sense of taking responsibility' thing a lot, because it feeds into a complex of: here is a thing that people will find excuses not to do because it's awful and they don't want to. If I don't do it, noone will. It makes him miserable, but it also gives him an inflated sense of importance. We have all either known someone like this or been that person at one point, to a less exaggerated degree, I think. The person who thinks that something being unpleasant means it's their sole duty to take it on... aaaand so also, everyone else shouldn't criticize them because look at what they've done for everyone! (And never mind that nobody asked and that maybe nobody had to force themselves to do the shitty thing they hate for the sake of doing it.)

And then on the flip side, there are things that he just. Will not take responsibility for period. And those are usually things where if he did so, it would contradict his self image too much, so they have to be made external. Sins of the Wreckers is one long ironic reversal of the 'Prowl has his fingers in every pie and does it all behind the scenes' narrative; in Sins, and generally in Roche's work in fact, Prowl allows himself a kind of emotional distance from things he is very much responsible for by... adding a few degrees of separation in. He doesn't kill Mesothulas; he tells Impactor to deal with the lab. He has him thrown in the noisemaze. Realistically, this is in no way anything but Prowl's murder attempt. But he can create a degree of plausible deniability. Not to anyone else- nobody else is supposed to know- but more to himself. Or another example is when any time Optimus in exRiD goes against what Prowl wants or disagrees with him, he always shows that he thinks that this is Optimus not understanding, and any fallout from Prowl going behind his back is, therefore, Optimus' fault. Even when Prowl's ideas are absolutely what caused the issue. When there's a hypothetical scenario he can imagine where he would have been backed up, Prowl says: well if you'd backed me up my plan would have worked, so this is the fault of everyone who just doesn't get it. Not mine.

(I'm trying to remember if the moment in exRiD where he's annoyed that Arcee won't play along with his 'well of course you tried to arrest the Decepticons you attacked first' nonsense is before Bombshell... I thiiiink it is? There's an example of Arcee puncturing his defenses, which she does a lot. She's like. lol shut up. I killed them like you asked. It's not quite the same- he's trying to get her cover story straight more than anything- but it feels a little like he finds her bluntness... uncomfortable. Even if he knows it's a lie, he still prefers, well. The lie.)

It would be pretty easy to gloss this dichotomy as 'Prowl takes responsibility when it gives him something or works for him, disowns it whenever something goes wrong', but I don't think that's... quite right. A little underbaked. Prowl takes responsibility when it puts him in a position where it justifies what he does on a wider scale, whether or not it goes well for him necessarily. And when that justification starts to look flimsy and the threat looms that he might be wrong on a fundamental level, that's when he starts to insist it's someone else's fault. Like grit in the machine, and if you took the grit out, of course it would work perfectly. Other people are the convenient grit when the machine is breaking down. (Going back to Sins: the single biggest 'this is not my fault' he pulls in all of canon is, IMO, the blatant lie that Mesothulas was 'influencing' him to be worse somehow. His personal justifications for his behaviour started to crack when he killed a bunch of civilians in cold blood and immediately realised that was completely unjustifiable, but he can't take responsibility without admitting his approach is the issue, and therefore without not just taking responsibility for this, but for all his actions in the war to date that were just... wrongheaded. So he goes 'no. this isn't my approach making me act this way. it's Mesothulas', even though it's ridiculously obvious that if anything, Prowl has been at least enabling Mesothulas to be worse. As he says, he wouldn't have started making bombs without Prowl's 'for the greater good in war' perspective.)

So you get this kind of slippery character who will insist everything is directly his responsibility one minute, even when he's miserable about it, and then turn around the next and say: no, no, none of this is my fault. If it reinforces his belief that his way is the only way and therefore anything he does can be justified, it's his responsibility. Even the bad stuff, or the stuff that will land him in trouble. If it challenges that belief, it's no longer his fault but just external influences that need removing, smoothing away, fixing. We haven't spoken about MTMTE Prowl as written by Roberts yet, but I think he shows a lot of this in the Overlord arc. It goes against his self-perception to think that how he acts or what he's doing puts Chromedome off agreeing to work with him in itself. That he finds Prowl repugnant now, in a way he didn't used to. So he gets pissy at Rewind, acting like he's getting in the way. You get the impression that Prowl is the sort to think Rewind is clearly the issue here and if he can just get Chromedome alone, things will go fine. (The irony, of course, being that he did, but doesn't remember it because of just how badly that went.)

Prowl has set himself up in a very precarious psychological trap by staking his entire sense of self on something which, if knocked over by a stiff breeze, would basically ruin every single thing he does or has done for the past few million years. His belief that his ends always justified his means. If he takes responsibility for anything that contradicts that, every single one of his decisions loses its place in his weird moral calculus and becomes a candidate for something not worth it that he cannot fix. And if he doesn't take responsibility for all the shit that he thinks needs doing but hates, then every awful decision he's made to the present becomes pointless, because if he can't end what he started there's no ends to justify the means. He can't stop or else it falls down. (See: him not wanting the war to be over despite hating it because it didn't end on the terms he was working toward.)

And I think that's how you marry the Prowl we see in stuff like Wreckers, whose stock in trade is gliding on through without it touching him and insisting there was always someone or something else to blame, with Prowl in exRiD, who takes way, way too much responsibility for everything.

tl;dr god i would also punch this guy if i met him jesus christ

#prowl #meta #idw #i'll stop here but there's a lot of stuff to say about arcee and him honestly #also impactor #man i wish impactor and arcee got more time together

[baronessofmischief]

Steven Grant is not a doormat

I don’t venture into characters tags very often because there’s a lot I don’t like to sift through but I’ve seen a lot of 🎶 timid and shy and scared are you 🎶 takes on Steven that are just… blatantly inaccurate lol

I don’t know how much is infantilization and how much is just a lack of basic character analysis, but Steven isn’t afraid to socialize or deal with conflict. While he may not solve conflict with violence, it doesn’t mean he lets people walk all over him without some form of speaking up or pushback. There are things he wants and has shown initiative in pursuing. Steven Grant is a unique mix of assertive but polite.

He’s also unaware he has DID which means there are situations and complications in his life outside of his control, and people react negatively to that which continues to make life harder for him to handle as well as he’d like, but that doesn’t mean he’s pathetic or inept— Those are adjacent issues I’ve seen in a lot of fan portrayals and interpretations.

Steven is an active protagonist. He doesn’t have to be pushed to further the story because he takes initiative to do things that further the story itself.

Even within just the first episode, “The Goldfish Problem” was devoted to showing us who he was before his knowledge of Moon Knight, and even the smaller moments are evident of who he is as an assertive character.

He calls his mom to talk on the phone and update her about his life even though we get the impression she doesn’t answer and that’s something he’s accustomed to, but he still calls anyway

He points out to the guy setting up his stall outside the entrance to his building that oh yeah, you’re still doing that inconvenient thing (that annoys me) aren’t you, well, good for you, thanks for that, (wish you wouldn’t do that but whatever I won’t make a fuss because that would be rude) cheers

He greets his coworkers by name even when they ignore him

It’s great to see a character politely and effectively correct a kid’s behavior without actually making the kid feel bad because so many times when adults do that they effectively block any possibility of the kid listening to what they say afterwards, even if it might be something the kid would be interested in. We can see that Steven wants to have a teaching moment where he gets to share his interest with someone who may not care about Egypt yet, but because he took the time to engage with her she shows interest (and will likely show more respect for the exhibits moving forward)

He firmly corrects Donna when she gets his name wrong, pointing to the name tag

When the tour guide comes over to confirm their date for that weekend, the reason he hesitates is because he’s caught off guard. Anybody would be confused about a date they have no recollection of having a conversation about

There’s an important distinction between who a character is vs what other characters say about them: when Donna says she didn’t think he had it in him (to ask the tour guide on a date), and accompanies it with the question about him being vegan so what’s he planning to get at a steak place, she’s being critical even while trying to engage him in a conversation, and from how we saw her introduction (unpleasant tone criticizing Steven and getting his name wrong upon his entry), it’s understandable for Steven to bite back a bit with the clipped “I dunno, salad? Bread?” He’s not unsure about himself in regards to the date, he’s telling her to mind her own business. They don’t have a good working relationship and Steven doesn’t owe her his personal life. Someone who’s a doormat would have just rolled over and made excuses to try to get a critic like Donna to like them to keep the peace. Steven doesn’t snap at her, he’s just mildly irritated, and when her moment of good humor drops she leaves with another criticism as she goes. He’s not worried about Donna liking him because she’s already shown she doesn’t respect him.

When he’s doing inventory he purposefully brings up the fact that the marketing poster is inaccurate because to him, this is a museum, so having things be accurate is important even if it’s just to visually draw people in, and when Donna makes the remark about him not having the chance at tour guide, that does stop him and he voices how disappointing that is to hear, actually. He doesn’t necessarily keep his feelings in to avoid further conflict

He apologizes for being late and for the fumble with the box of stock, but he continues the conversation instead of meekly trying to please his boss and spend a bunch of time trying to get her to pity him

Though the street performer doesn’t speak to Steven, Steven still apparently likes talking to him, which I think is a lot more symbolic than people realize

He’s blunt with the lady at the pet shop because he rightfully doesn’t understand what the fish is going on with his magically able-bodied goldfish and that’s reason for him to be determined enough to go out hunting for answers. He knows he’s sleep deprived but Steven knows his pet: this is bizarre

The reason he doesn’t call the tour guide ahead of time to ask about the date they’re supposed to have because 1. He’s running late and 2. It’s evident he wants to be there so he’s taking the time to make sure he does everything correctly, but he still takes the initiative to reach out to her first, instead of making up some excuse to himself as to why she’s not there

It’s interesting because even outside of discovering Marc, the show plays on the idea of Steven “talking to himself” when the reality is that the people he’s talking to just aren’t listening to him, and that has overarching thematic implications further down the line when Harrow uses the idea of Steven / Marc talking to himself as a way to discredit him/the system (which would also further isolate them). There are numerous examples of Steven being shown asking for help and being denied that or ignored.

One of the running themes in the show that’s especially apparent in the first episode is that Steven is alone, but not for a lack of trying. Steven talks to a lot people/things that don’t talk to him (his mom, Gus, his coworkers, the street performer), in addition to initiating conversations with people who are antagonistic to him in one way or another. It does Steven a disservice to strip him of a very clear aspect of his character by making him this meek, trembling wallflower of a character just so you can have rough-assertive-confident-cocky Marc Spector as a contrast (while also not taking into account Marc’s own complexities).

Because of his willingness to push back and ask or demand answers, Steven is able to connect with Marc and start figuring out what the rest of his (and by extension Marc’s) life entails. From what starts to be revealed it appears that Marc has spent a long time pushing people out and pushing people away, but it’s Steven’s stubbornness, kindness, and resolve that helps the two of them connect and find balance in the end. The idea that neither of them is actually alone, whether by choice (Marc) or not (Steven) is important to the series and characters as a whole.

#MCU Moon Knight #Marvel #Moon Knight #Steven Grant #Marc Spector #meta #my writing #I remade the post because something wonky is going on with the first one

[nyxwanderland]

♡ in your arms

pairing → jean kirschtein x reader genre → fluff / angst warnings → contains swearing, blood word count → 1157

I may get very hungry after several hours of brutal training, but I'd trade my soul in exchange for skipping dinner at the mess hall. Don't get me wrong, the food was alright. The real reason was the loud and annoying trainees drenched in sweat and reeking of body odor, making it unbearable for me to eat in peace. I myself felt uncomfortable and self-conscious of my own unpleasant smell.

Commander Keith's orders were to wash up only after we had our meals. So bothersome.

After taking forever to find an empty place for myself to sit and eat, I propped my book in front of me in a way I could read it easily while eating my bread. Although despising them with every inch of my being, I had always found titans fascinating and really wanted to work with Squad Leader Hange Zoe to further research about the giant brutes.

It was getting louder in the mess hall. It was as if a fight broke out because people gathered around a spot and punches and kicks were heard. I could care less, however the crowd was right behind me so it was difficult to concentrate in peace.

I decided to get up and find a new area where it was quieter when I was hit with a splash of water out of the blue. Not only my hair and clothes were all wet, but my food and book were too. The entire room became quiet upon realization.

Abruptly getting up while slamming my hands on the table, I turned around to face the group of people behind me. They already thought I was scary for no reason and left me alone all this time, so they stared at me as if they'd shit their pants.

"Who did it?" I asked. Frustrated when no answer came, I said again, with a raised voice this time, "I said, who the fuck did it?"

"It was me," a brown-haired boy spoke up, raising his hand. "Didn't see you there, sorry."

I would've normally forgiven him, but something about his cocky expression and negligible concern made my eye twitch. "Is that your way of apologizing?"

His eyes glanced down from my eyes to my hand, which was holding the book, water droplets dripping from the pages. "I mean, you got a shower, you should be thanking me for that."

My urge give him a beating won over just as he said that. I went towards his figure. "Also, that book has like a hundreds of copies in the library, so it's not that a big de-" While his mouth was spewing shit, I grabbed a fistful of hair, shoving his face on my knee. A crack was heard as I did so.

"Jean?!" One of the trainees from the crowd yelled along with a couple of gasps from the others in the room.

The guy- Jean grunted as he staggered and lost his balance, falling on the floor with his head on the ground. "Fuck! This bitch broke my nose!"

"Didn't see you there. It's just a broken nose, it'll get fixed on its own anyway, no big deal."

✩

"Hey, you alright?" A voice so gentle asked.

I snapped out of the memory and realized I wasn't a trainee in the mess hall anymore, but in an airship with other soldiers, in a land outside of where it all began.

I quickly looked at the person who spoke. Just as our eyes met, my gaze softened and a smile subconsciously appeared on my face. "Yeah, I'm fine, Jean."

The me four years ago would have never expected to be my worst enemy's fiancée, sitting closely together with my head on his shoulder. From hating to loving each other, it was a whole journey; and we were going to continue it till the end.

"You looked pretty zoned out there," my beloved said, worried unlike our trainee days.

I shook my head. "I was thinking about how we first met."

Jean let out a laugh. "Man, that sure was the most horrible first meeting I've ever had in my life. Worse than Eren's."

"You were being a jerk after all," I shrugged. "You deserved it."

"Oh, shut up," he scoffed. "It was just a book, my love. You could have found more like it or even better in the lib-"

"You're lucky that I love you or there'd be a repeat of what happened last time," I threatened as sweetly as possible.

Jean rolled his eyes and sighed. He wrapped his arm around my body, pulling me even closer to his body. "I just can't wait for this to be over. Then as promised, we'll get married and have a safe life back home."

I smiled, my cheeks slightly turning red at the thought of us living together with no worry in the world. Without being alert all the time and without the fear of getting killed suddenly. "Me too," I said quietly, just enough for Jean to hear amongst the loud celebrating cheers in the ship.

thud

My ears perked up and I looked at Jean, who became alert too. Something just hit the exterior of the airship. We both got up and told the cheering soldiers to calm down.

"Is there someone inside?" I asked, but all of them denied.

I went to check from the door, but someone held my hand to stop me. I turned around to see it was Jean. "It's dangerous, y/n."

"I'll be fine," I said reassuringly.

At that moment, a little girl jumped inside the aircraft and pointed a large rifle at someone. Sasha.

It all happened in seconds, as I pushed Sasha out of the way to save her from getting killed. She looked at me with horror, and I did not realize why so until I felt a sharp pain in my body, near my chest.

It took me a moment to comprehend what was happening as my body dropped to the floor, Jean screaming in agony and the angry soldiers grabbing the culprit and snatching the weapon.

My eyes were glued to the ceiling and I tried to control my breath. Blood oozed out from my wound. My vision was getting blurry and the voices that were once loud were beginning to fade away.

I felt my body being held in someone's arms. I saw Jean, his face plastered with despair and dripping with tears. He was saying something, but it was getting harder for me to make out the words coming out of his mouth.

With the only energy left within, I managed to place my hand on my beloved's cheek, wiping the tears away. I let out a deep breath and muttered, "I guess... my wish of dying in your arms became true... earlier than I wanted to..."

"I'm sorry, J-Jean... for breaking our promise..."

I felt my hand drop as everything went black, breathing my last.

#jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x reader #attack on titan #fluff then angst #my first fic #like and follow

[callsignbarb]

you love me anyway ~ part 3/5

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x oc

Summary: Charlie eats sand, but so does Jake, so it doesn’t matter. Charlie shouts some choice words into the comms, then throws up. Some unpleasant news is spread around base.

Word Count: 2.40k

Warnings: swearing, i do understand how football works but that does not mean i can write it, near-death experiences for everyone, character death that we all knew was coming, vomit, crying, pls lmk if i missed anything

A/N: i love jock on jock violence. i do not love writing action scenes, mostly because i think in pictures, not words, so i’m already imagining everything that’s happening, which does not work very well for writing. and if there’s one thing i love above all else, it’s some fluff that takes place in one bed.

Masterlist | Good Company | Part 1 | Part 2 | ... | Part 4 | Part 5

After trying, and failing, to get through the simulated canyon, Maverick dismissed the lieutenants for lunch. Waiting for them in the mess hall was this note:

Beach @ 1300. Be prepared to get wet.

They all looked at each other in confusion, but shrugged it off and ate lunch in peace.

As much peace as Charlie was willing to give Jake.

The second they stepped onto the sand, Maverick waved them over near the water, his jeans rolled up to his knees.

“Welcome to your next portion of training: teamwork.” Pete walked over to Hondo and clapped him on the back. “Hondo here will pick the teams — orange,” he held up an orange football, “or blue,” he held up a blue football. “This isn’t just beach football, Lieutenants, this is beach dogfighting football. Both teams will be playing offense and defense at the same time. Hondo will referee, so make sure you play fair, or else the punishment will probably be push-ups.” Mav smiled at the groaning pilots.

“All right, get in a straight line, let me look at all of you.” Hondo inspected each of them like cattle before assigning teams. “Orange: Hangman. Payback. Phoenix. Yale. Omaha. Harvard. Blue: Maverick. Rooster. Bob. Fanboy. Coyote. Fritz. Parker.”

Charlie smiled at Bradley and Mickey, then glared over at Hangman.

“You’re dead meat,” she mouthed.

“C’mon, huddle up.” Maverick, naturally, took point. “We need an offense and a defense.”

“Defense,” Charlie automatically volunteered.

Mav looked at her over his sunglasses, then shrugged. “Any other takers?”

The team split with their assignments. They lined up, Hondo blew the whistle, and Charlie ran directly for Hangman, but was tackled by Omaha before she could make her move.

She was tackled again.

And again.

And again.

Hondo blew the whistle one more time. Fanboy snapped the football back to Maverick one more time. Charlie ran for Hangman one more time. And this time, she successfully took him down.

He spit out a mouthful of sand before he groaned. “Jesus, Parker, you do not pull your punches.” He stayed on the ground for a minute, Charlie sprawled out beside him, before he spoke up again. “I shouldn’t have said it, Charlie. Any of it. I know you’re not that type of person, and I should’ve trusted you from the beginning. I’m sorry.” He stuck out his hand. “Truce?”

She looked between his face and his hand before she groaned herself. “You owe me endless drinks at the Hard Deck for, like, the next twelve years.”

“Deal.”

She shook his hand. “You’re still a dick.”

“That’s probably not going to change.”

“I figured it wouldn’t.”

Hangman stood first and helped her up, then attempted to brush the sand off of her shirt, but to no avail. “I, uh, I think I’m just making this worse.”

She looked down at her shirt and laughed. “Don’t even bother.” Then she stripped out of the shirt, revealing her bikini top.

“Let’s have a show, Parker!” Mickey shouted and laughed.

“You first, Fanboy!”

Hangman took off his shirt and tossed it into the sand. “I always preferred shirts vs skins anyways.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Of course you did.”

Charlie rejoined her teammates, where most of them — except for Bob — had stripped down to just their pants. And one particular teammate who couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. “My eyes are up here, Rooster.”

“I know what your eyes look like, Lottie.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, then turned around so he could only see her back, not her front. “Like this view just as much?”

“Baby, you are the view.”

Hondo blew his whistle, breaking everyone out of their own bubbles. “Let’s get back to it.”

Bob caught the ball. He ran straight for the end zone, Bradley threw the ball to him, and Bob caught it. A perfect touchdown. Charlie jumped three feet in the air, then ran to Bob, jumping into his arms for a hug. The rest of the team crowded around him, and soon so did the rest of the crew.

“Bob! Bob! Bob! Bob! Bob! Bob!”

Charlie stepped back and laughed, then a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and spun her around. “Bradley!”

“I never got to tell you, but your tackle on Hangman was legendary. It’ll go down in the books.” He set her down and she turned to face him.

“A story meant for history, truly.”

“Jake’s grandchildren will never hear the end of it.”

“No, definitely not. He needs to be humbled every once in a while. I’d even be willing to do a live-action reenactment, if they asked.”

“That’s so considerate of you.”

“I’m a giver if nothing else.”

Bradley laughed. “Come on.” He stepped in front of her and leaned down, and she took the hint — she hopped onto his back and let him give her a piggy back ride all the way back to base.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Admiral Bates stood in front of the podium the next morning. “Morning.”

“This can’t be good,” Charlie muttered.

“The uranium enrichment plant that is your target will be operational earlier than expected. Raw uranium will be delivered to the plant in ten days time. As a result, your mission has been moved up — one week — in order to avoid contaminating the target valley with radiation.”

“Sir,” Fanboy interrupted, “No one here has successfully flown a low-level course.”

“Nevertheless, you’ve been ordered to move on. Captain.”

Maverick stepped up to the podium and frowned at the downtrodden faces.

“We have one week left to focus onto Phase Two. It’s the most difficult stage of the mission. A pop up strike with a steep dive requiring nothing less than two consecutive miracles.

“Two pairs of F-18s will fly in a welded wing formation. Teamwork; precise coordination of these aircraft is essential to both mission success, and your survival.

“As you know, the plant rests between two mountains. On final approach, you will invert directly into a steep dive. This allows you to maintain the lowest possible altitude and the only possible attack angle.

“Your target is an impact point less than three meters wide.

“The two seat aircraft will paint the target with a laser bullseye. The first pair will breach the reactor by dropping a laser-guided bomb on an exposed ventilation hatch. This will create an opening for the second pair.

“That’s miracle number one.

“The second team will deliver the kill shot, and destroy the target.

“That’s miracle number two.

“If either team misses the target, the mission is a failure.

“Egress is a steep, high-G climb out to avoid hitting this mountain.”

“A steep climb, at that speed?” Hangman said, “you’re pulling at least eight G’s.”

“Nine,” Maverick corrected. “Minimum.”

Bradley interrupted. “The stress limit of F-18’s airframe is 7.5.”

“That’s the accepted limit,” Mav corrected again. “To survive this mission, you’ll pull beyond that, even if it means bending your airframe.”

Charlie interrupted this time. “Bending our airframe could lead to further complications on the way back. Have we taken those risks into consideration?”

“It’s one of the risks we have to take to make sure we come home.” Mav turned back to the screen. “You’ll be pulling so hard you’ll weigh close to 2,000 pounds. Your skull crushing your spine, your lungs imploding like an elephant is sitting on your chest. You’re fighting with everything you have just to keep from blacking out.

“And this is where you’ll be at your most vulnerable.

“This,” he gestured at the screen, “is Coffin Corner.

“Assuming you avoid crashing into this mountain, you’ll climb straight up into enemy radar, while losing all of your airspeed. Within seconds, you’ll be fired upon by enemy SAMs.

“You’ve all faced sustained G’s before, but this? This is gonna take you and your aircraft to the breaking point.”

Phoenix asked, “Sir? Is this even achievable?”

“The answer to that question, will come down to the pilot in the box.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Phoenix, Bob, and Parker’s voices could be heard through the radio in the lounge as they went through the simulated drill.

Bob’s voice rang through the comms. “We gotta move, we gotta move.”

“Copy,” Charlie replied, “try to stay with me.”

A beeping came from the aircraft. “Wait, who’s that?”

“Blue Team,” Mav’s voice echoed, “you’ve been spotted.”

“Shit, it’s Maverick”

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“I’m a bandit on course to intercept. Blue Team, what are you gonna do?”

“He’s 20 miles left,” Bob called out. “10 o’clock. 700 knots closure.”

“Your call, Phoenix,” Charlie said. “What do you wanna do?”

Phoenix bit her lip as she thought. “Continue. We’re close. Stay on target.”

“Copy that. Stand by for pop-up.”

“Be ready on that laser, Bob.”

“Copy, I’m on it.”

Mav’s voice came through the comms. “Blue Team, the enemy is still closing.”

“Popping now!” Charlie called back. The planes lifted into the climb, then inverted over the ridge and shot back down. “Talk to me Bob, where’s Maverick?”

“Five miles out, he’s coming fast!”

“Of course he is,” Charlie grumbled.

“Target’s in sight, Parker.”

“Where’s my laser, Bob?”

Bob wiggled the joystick, but the laser would not cooperate. “Dead eye, dead eye! It’s no good. Sorry, I can’t get a lock.”

“We’re out of time — I’m dropping blind.” Charlie maneuvered her own targeting system and tried to shoot as close as possible to the target. “Damnit, I missed!”

The two planes popped up into the steep climb out of the valley, pulling almost 10 G’s as they climbed. But they forgot about Maverick, who followed them out.

“That’s tone.”

“Mav’s got missile lock on us,” Bob shouted.

“Shit!” Phoenix exclaimed, “We’re dead.” Their jet peeled out of the climb, but Charlie kept going.

“Blue Team, that’s a fail. Level out, Parker.”

Charlie didn’t hear the order as she blacked out.

“Parker, do you copy?” Maverick’s voice got more desperate. “Parker, come in.”

Nothing.

“Parker, level wings.”

Still no response.

“Oh god, she’s in g-lock. Parker. Parker!”

Phoenix said, “She’s gonna burn in!”

“I’m going after her.” Maverick dove down, trying to catch up to her. “Come on, gimme tone, gimme tone, gimme tone.” He got missile lock on her jet and the tone rang through her cabin. “Snap out of it, Parker.”

Still nothing.

“Come on, kid, come on!”

The shouting, the tone, the growing pressure, all of it combined got Charlie to open her eyes seconds before she came crashing into the ground.

“Fuck!” She thrust the jet back up, barely missing the tops of the trees on the hill.

Maverick pulled up beside her. “Parker, you okay? You okay?”

“I’m okay,” she sighed, “I’m okay. I’m good.”

“Good, good. That’s enough for today.”

Phoenix pulled up on the other side of Mav. “That was close.”

“Too close,” he agreed. Then, something struck the side of his jet. “Bird strike. Bird strike!” Charlie and him both managed to avoid them, but one went directly into Phoenix’s engine.

“The left engine is on fire!” Bob shouted.

“Climbing!” Phoenix responded. “Shutting off the left engine. Extinguishing the fire.”

“Right engine is out.”

“It’s still spinning, I’ll try to restart it.”

“The engine is on fire, don’t try to—”

“Throttling up.”

Maverick’s voice was quiet through the comms. “Oh my god.”

“We’re on fire.”

“Extinguishing right engine.”

“Punch out!”

“I can’t control it!”

“You can’t save it,” Maverick shouted. “Eject! Eject!”

Charlie and Mav looked out of their canopies and saw two parachutes fall to the ground.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A helicopter flew out and picked up Phoenix and Bob, and Maverick turned to Charlie. “Let’s go back.”

She nodded in response and followed him back, not saying a word.

As soon as they landed, Maverick got out of his jet first, then ran over and helped Charlie out of hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded again and swallowed hard. “Yeah, I—I think so. I’m—“ She pulled away and ran to the back of the jet, where she vomited. Twice. “I think I’m better now.”

He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, that’s pretty normal. Go grab some food, we’re done for today.”

Charlie smiled and nodded, then walked off, her gear still on.

Jones let her take three pudding cups. By the end of the third one, she felt like herself again, the chocolate flavor soothing her nerves and her stomach. She threw away her trash and left the mess hall to put her equipment back, but Maverick intercepted her on the way.

“Hey, Mav, I was just—”

“Charlie, I—it’s Ice. He’s gone.”

She stopped walking, frozen in place. “What?”

“Admiral Bates just told me. Sarah called.”

“Oh god.” She stumbled, and Pete reached out, grabbing her elbow. “He’s — he’s gone.”

“Yeah.”

“I—I should—”

“You should get some sleep, Charlie.” Her eyes met his and he softened. “Get some sleep, then go to Sarah’s; you have the day off tomorrow.”

“We have a mission, Mav.”

“I know. And you are more than welcome to come back to training after the funeral.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Give yourself a day.”

She pulled him into a hug and let a couple tears fall onto his shoulder. “Thank you, Uncle Pete.”

He hugged her back tightly. “I love you, kid. Get some sleep.”

She walked back to the barracks, deciding to drop off her equipment in the morning, and got changed into the blue shorts and over-sized t-shirt she slept in, but she didn’t pull back the sheets on her own bed.

Charlie walked down the hall and didn’t even bother knocking on the door, just walked into Rooster’s room, where he wasn’t even present. Instead of going and looking for him, though, Charlie just slipped under the covers of his bed and curled onto her side, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Bradley walked into his room ten minutes later and didn’t even blink at the extra body in his bed. Or the fact that she was fast asleep. He changed into shorts and tried to slip into bed without waking her, but he failed. Miserably.

“B?”

“Yeah.”

She turned to face him, but her nose wrinkled when her hand came into contact with skin. “Are you naked?”

He chuckled. “No, you pervert, I’m wearing shorts.”

“I’m not the one that got into bed with a woman naked.” She giggled, but it cut short. “Tom, he—a”

“I know, I heard. Are you—?”

She curled even tighter into herself and choked back a sob. “I thought I was done crying.”

“Oh, babe.” He pulled her into his chest, his arms wrapped around her. “I’m so sorry.”

“I knew it was coming, I just—it still just sneaks up on you.”

“I know, I know.” He rubbed her back as she cried. “It snuck up on me with my mom, too. My dad, it was so sudden, and I was so young, but my mom—it was inevitable, but it still hit like a sucker punch.”

She sniffled and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He pressed his lips to her head. “For what?”

“Tom is another person you lost, too. Not just me. God,” she buried her head further into him, “there’s so much I should apologize for.”

“No, there isn’t. Not to me.”

She squeezed his waist tighter and sniffled. “Thank you.”

“I love you, Lottie.”

“Love you too, B.”

Part 4

A/N: if you want to be included on the taglist, just comment! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

Taglist: @averyhotchner​ @luckyladycreator2​

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x oc #rooster x reader #top gun: maverick #top gun #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace #phoenix #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #iceman #tom kazansky #fem!reader

[filthforfriends]

who: Ethan + platonic rest of band what: fluff when: day time where: apartment why: Reader has hair like Ethan but straightens it, and one time they find her at home with rlly curly hair (think Brian May) and it's fluffy

"I'm sure she won't mind!"

"Impromptu dinners are fun, it'll be great!" You hear the voices of Damiano and Victoria outside your door, apparently accompanying your boyfriend home. This happened every so often: one of them would buy some nice wine and Damiano would find something of exceptional quality at the farmers market, so he'd want to cook. They'd think hey, let's just make it a party. Why Ethan was designated as the host however was a total mystery.

He was an introvert with a calming presence. The band usually knew better than to trample over his peace and quiet, but this was an exception. Unfortunately, this surprise was also on your day off. You'd given your hair and skin a break from product, which drastically changed your appearance. Ethan could be heard attempting to reason with them in hushed tones, Thomas' voice boisterous and oblivious.

You searched for a hair tie or something in your near vicinity, but nothing less than 40 minutes of skilled work could tame your mane. It was pointless to try so you braced for impact. When the lock clicked, you turned away to be spared of the immediate reaction. Of course dramatic Damiano audibly gasped. Thomas realized why Ethan had been discouraging him, and fell dead silent, probably with a bit of guilt. You turned to see his face and found Victoria grinning wide. She skipped right up to you and started touching your curls. You wanted to tell her off, but more so you wanted to throw something at Dami, who stood there with his jaw on the floor.

"Yeah, I know, it's ridiculous. I'm aware." You don't hide the irritation, and decide locating a hair tie would make the situation better.

"Oh, I wasn't going to say ridiculous!" Victoria gushed. She followed you into the bathroom, playing with your hair like a cat. When you smacked her hand away she laughed good-naturdly, unoffended.

"Right, sorry! Is this how you became an amazing stylist? Like dealing with your own hair?" Feeling like a zoo animal was very unpleasant, but this was a line of questioning you are comfortable with.

"It takes a lot to get it silky and straight, like someone's is naturally. Y'know all it takes for Ethan's is -"

"Aha! Brian May! Thats who I was thinking off," Thomas exclaims.

"Brian May?" Damiano murmurs, not recognizing the name. "Oh, psh, from Queen, obviously! Yeah, I see it." Damiano, at least has the good sense to wince as soon as he speaks. Thomas seems oblivious to the notion that being compared to a man born in the 40s wasn't a compliment.

"And, y'know, what people don't get about him as a guitarist..." You let Thomas drone on about music facts down the hall from you, at least distracting Damiano. Victoria watches your face as you wrestle with your hair, braking the only elastic in sight. You let out a growl of frustration and hear Ethan knocking on the door frame.

"Cara mia, I'm sorry about them. I would've warned you we were coming. I tried to talk them out of it, but -"

"Wait, wait. Y/n shouldn't have to spend an hour on her hair every time she comes in contact with another person. Thats exhausting!" You let out a snort, laughing at the painful accuracy of Vic's statement. "I think it's beautiful and Thomas doesn't know how to talk to other human beings, but comparing you to one of his favorite guitarists is a huge compliment because he's an idiot. Damiano likes the sound of his own voice and Ethan knows you're too good for him, so let me get you a goddamn glass of wine!"

She leaves the room, on a mission. You hear both Damiano and Thomas make noises of dissent and know its Victoria causing them some kind of inconvenience as retribution on your behalf. Ethan steps into the bathroom behind you, tucking the tag into your shirt, sweeping your hair off of one shoulder, and kissing the skin.

"Your beautiful, beautiful hair," he declares, softly. You smile, because theres no arguing with him on this. Ethan loves your hair, even when it gets in his mouth while you're cuddling.

"They're more annoying than I remember." As if on cue, you hear something shatter on the kitchen floor, probably a wine glass.

"Every day they are my burden and you are my reprieve," he jokes, kissing all the way up your neck. He strokes you head, coaxing the hair back. When it's manageable enough, Ethan uses the hair tie on his wrist to secure it back. You sigh, letting the tension go and allowing yourself to smile.

"So, how was the studio today?" Ethan opens his mouth the answer, but is interrupted by Victoria's husky voice.

"I got your wine y/n! Is it safe to come back? You're not fucking in there right?" Ethan dissolves into disbelieving laughter from the mortification. He props is forearm against the wall and hangs his head, eyes scrunched closed.

"Make them leave," you request.

"If only I could."

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