#steel fan witch

[rosario-devilman]

Here is the family tree of the Xiaotian/Wukong/Demon King family tree for The Forbidden Prince AU.

#Forbidden Prince AU #family tree #sun wukong #steel fan witch #iron fan princess #bull demon king #immortal ruyi #princess jade face #ruyi zhenxian #Master Qi #Grandpa Qi

[theforbiddenprinceseries]

The Forbidden Prince chapter 1

Forbidden Prince Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first time writing a story based on the Forbidden Kingdom film and Lego Monkie Kid but MK or Qi Xiaotian is the son of Sun Wukong/Monkey King and Steel Fan Witch (my OC who is the sister of Iron Fan Princess) so that Red Son or Red Boy is technically Qi Xiaotian's cousin.

I hope you enjoy this because it would get wild and you might understand why I named it Forbidden Prince. And I might add some characters from the Lego Monkie Kid.

Chapter 1- Night of the Scarlet Crescent

Silver Creek High School, Boston:

Silver Creek High School was once an all girls school before it had became a co-ed school or a mixed-gender school.

For Qi Xiaotian, it's seems a normal day.

Well sort of.

He was outside, getting some fresh air when he heard something like it was music under the bleachers.

Then he was face to face with a group of unusual teenagers. One look like a stoner, another look like a geek and one girl who surprisingly normal.

The stoner looking guy noticed Qi Xiaotian and then freaked out suddenly before speaking out, "Aw crap!! Please don't tell that you are part of the Student Council!?!"

"Student Council?" Qi Xiaotian was confused, "No. What you do is your own business."

The guy looked confused before laughed, a genuine laugh. "Hey, you seems alright. What's your name?"

"Qi Xiaotian."

"Jeremy Kubrick." He shook Qi's hand, "It's a surprise to see you. Do you think it's fine if I call you MK?"

"MK?" Qi Xiaotian thought to himself before he looked at the others out of curiosity.

"Oh..." the geek quickly spoke up, "I'm Tommy Palmer. And that's Selena Romero over there."

Qi Xiaotian was pretty nervous on the inside but he calmed down immediately before remembering something.

"Are you supposed to go to class?" Qi Xiaotian asked and Jeremy's face paled as Mei appeared behind Qi Xiaotian with a concern look on her face.

                                                      ****

Qi Xiaotian felt embarrassed after that. Although his teacher seems worried then relieved that Qi Xiaotian was unharmed and not doing any drugs. But the teen felt that he did something wrong. Something very wrong. And Jeremy had noticed it and carefully pulled Qi Xiaotian for a moment.

"Hey? Have you been to a party before?" Jeremy asked and this caught Qi's attention.

"A party?" Qi spoke, "Like a birthday party?" "Well no." Jeremy answered, "It's a teen party... at the teacher's house."

Qi Xiaotian was in shock yet very curious about the house party. But partying at a teacher's house is dangerous like hunting a caped buffalo in the African savanna with nothing but a bow and arrow.

"Sure why not." Qi Xiaotian spoke then remember that his father is an obstacle of going to the party however Jeremy had the perfect plan to hopefully get Qi Xiaotian to the party.

                                                      ****

When Qi walked in the teacher's house, there's a lot of people (which consists of  a bunch of teenagers) partying like it was a New Year's Eve party though there's no champagne. The music wasn't too loud so nobody will call the cops.

As the boy enter the bedroom where teacher and his spouse shared, one dude took a running start and landed on the bed. One teenager ran by to use the restroom as he yelled out, "I NEED TO TAKE A BIG HAIRY DUMP!!!!!" as he closed the door. Qi Xiaotian walked out of the bedroom and into the dining room/living room area.

Everything is fine when one of the teenager went up to Qi and asked him, "Does your dad know about it?"

Qi turned to the teenager and answered, "What's the worst case scenario? Kick my butt hard." as he let out a confident laugh before he felt odd. It almost felt like his stomach might burst open. His eyes was blurry like he was swimming in a pool with no swimming goggles on. Then he heard a voice but it didn't sound like his dad. The voice was deep as it echoed.

"QI XIAOTIAN!!!!"

Qi find himself in a void as he noticed something odd. Standing there was a woman who seems beautiful.

Saying Beautiful might be an understatement. She oddly resembles his mom yet her hair is a dark Brown and she wore a light blue dress that covered her legs and the sleeves seems to sparkled. Then her body was turning.......to stone..

Qi Xiaotian noticed immediately and run to tried help her but it was too late as her body was fully petrified and her body broke down into several pieces. Qi was speechless and unable to move until one of crystals began to shine brightly before it took the form of a man who oddly resembled his father but younger and his hair was a lot longer. The odd thing is that he was wearing a golden headband that wrapped around his head.

"MK?" Jeremy's voice called out while Qi look like he was going to black out. "You okay, MK?" Jeremy called out as Qi mutter, "B.....Bowl... I...I can't feel my stomach...."

Jeremy grabs a random empty bowl and gave it to Qi.

There was no warning for what happened.

!!!!!

"Urkkk!!!!"

Qi threw up into the bowl but what is odd is that the vomit was a mixture of clear (similar to saliva) and black liquid with some jet black creature that look like a lamprey and a creature from the deep part of the ocean.

Qi Xiaotian didn't know what happened until he noticed that he was outside. He swore he heard Jeremy calling out his name or MK.

Looking around, he heard a strange sound. Then he saw something shocking that standing there. It look bigger than him and his dad. It was covered in white fur with some red. The body's proportions was unnatural and the face oddly resemble a primate...

It didn't take long for Qi Xiaotian to realize what he is against as the creature roared.

It was a Mandrill...

No..

IT'S A MANDRILL DEMON!!!

The beast charged at Qi who closed his eyes immediately.

Then Qi was struck by something that felt like lightning then he punched the Mandrill demon so hard that the demon hit a tree hard. It was a miracle that the tree didn't broke. The teen charged at the beast, delivering another punch. The Mandrill Demon charged at Qi who quickly moved out of the way.

"THAT'S PATHETIC!!!" The Mandrill Demon spoke before laughing loudly. That would be a wrong move as Qi Xiaotian charged and punch the creature in the chest hard that Qi heard something shattered. The primate demon stumbled backwards before a loud roar filled the air as the demon was glowing brightly with a green aura before a blast of energy blasted like a bomb going off.

Qi watched in shock until the roaring ceseased and the demon was petrified like a statue. Not taking any risks, Qi Xiaotian immediately punched the demon's head and the petrified head shattered.

                                                      ****

Jason Tripitikas was walking home, his body sore from training thanks to Lixin Xiaotian. Next to him was the lady from Chinatown he met after that fated encounter at Old Hop's shop. He felt nervous about telling her that incident and the fact that she was the reincarnation of Golden Sparrow.

"Is there something wrong?" The young woman asked Jason who snapped back to reality.

"It's nothing really...." Jason muttered to himself before looking up to see that the moon was red.

"Is that a Xuè yuè?" Jason spoke and it caught Yinuo's attention. "Xuè yuè?" The young woman asked and Jason realized something and spoke, "A Blood moon."

"A Blood Moon? What is that?" Yinuo asked out of curiosity. Jason did remember that Old Hop told him that a blood moon is a sign of something bad is about to happen.

Jason's suspicions are confirmed when there was a loud roar as the two covered their ears. The male did recalled an incident earlier this morning involving a random guy yelling how the blood moon is coming and everyone is going to die before hitting a light pole hard. Then the roaring went silent as Jason and Yinuo uncovered their ears, the Chinese lady looked at Jason with confusion. The silence was interrupted when the duo noticed someone approaching them. Jason immediately curled his hands into fists, prepared for a fight as the creature approached the young adult then it began to shriek in agony. Confused, Jason looked up to see that blood moon was changing back to a normal grey color as the hostile creature changed back into a young teenage boy.

"MK?!?! Is that you?!?!" A voice called out as Jason and Yinuo turned around to see a teenager who looked like a stoner or a delinquent standing there, shocked until the other teen who is called MK trembled and looking like he was about to fall over. Then the boy nearly fell over but Jason caught the teenager boy. Jason did recall that Lixin Xiaotian having a son and a daughter so maybe this boy might be his son.

"I guess we might take him to his father." Yinuo spoke as Jason looked at the teen who called Lixin's son 'MK' before he spoke, "I will go home, okay." As the teen left, Yinuo and Jason helped up 'MK' as Jason let the teen get on his back like a piggy back ride.

                                                      ****

In the basement of Silver Creek High School, there was a group of people (which consists of young women who are either the staff or students) dressed in dark cloaks with the leader dressed in a deep red cloak. The leader was a woman who has tanned skin and platinum blonde hair that might be mistaken for white for good reasons. She looks drop dead gorgeous with a curvaceous body, enough for some boys (and men) to have their own fantasy.

The leader slammed her fist against a stone slab which on the top was the school gym uniform that was stained in blood along with a picture of Qi Xiaotian which is also stained in the red ichor.

"Did it work?" One member spoke, breaking the silence and the leader answered, "It did but someone stopped it from gaining our Forbidden Prince."

****

When Jason and Yinuo reach the antique restoration house, it resembles a Chinese building with a sign that read "Mysterious Discovery" on it.

Jason raised up his hand to knock on the door, it opened to revealed a teenager wearing a sweater and a pair of jeans.

"Yes?" The teen asked, looking like she's a senior as she noticed Jason and Yinuo before seeing an unconscious Qi Xiaotian leaning against Jason's back. Immediately, the teen helped Jason with getting Qi Xiaotian off of the the older male's back.

                                                      ****

In a bathroom, Lixin Xiaotian cleaned the wound that he cauterized. He knew that he could use silver nitrate but he didn't have any so he ended up using a sterilized metal knife. He cleaned the treated wound and dressed the wound when he heard someone knocking on the door as Lixin Xiaotian got up and opened the door to reveal one of the coworkers.

"Odd? Are you supposed to go home?" Lixin Xiaotian asked until he saw his son, sitting down and looking dazed. Immediately, Lixin ran up to his son and put a calloused hand against his child's head. He turned and stared at Jason who gulped loudly. "Did something happen?" Lixin Xiaotian asked and Jason who remember the blood moon and what he saw Qi Xiaotian (Lixin's son) transformed into a creature that oddly resembles the being he freed when Old Hop's shop was attacked.

#Forbidden Prince AU #monkey king #forbidden kingdom #steel fan witch #tw: vomit

[sgiandubh]

Enough

Over all these years, you have suited yourself and treated us as garbage, Mordor.

We were and still are The Stupid Ones (Who Don't Speak English - shame on you, Moo: they are as Spanish as you are and your English is mediocre, at best!). The Nutcases. The Mental Ward. The Sliver. The Fringe. Those Particular Fans. Bad Company. Laughable. No Need To Answer To People. Don't Give Them Air People. Trolls. Idiots. Liars. Fools. Delusional. It's Slap-A-Shipper [insert day of the week here]. The 'Creatures living in The Shire' is just the last avatar of a long string of humiliations.

In doing so, you heavily relied on our disgust and unwillingness to throw ourselves in hot water for the sake of answering something to you, especially after The Shitner Debacle and Watchtower Witch Hunt. You used all the Narrative Tropes to relentlessly discredit and humiliate us. You nitpicked up to comma level in order to demonize us. And when confronted and debunked, you never ever rectified: The Ur-Troll taught you well.

We almost never answered and when we did, you were so surprised that you immediately turned yourselves into Sacrificial Lambs. Many of us were intimidated and some left, because of all the drama and chaos you created, peddling lies and rumors on things we never did, never said and probably never thought. It's not easy to raise and answer to a collective Bully Juggernaut of Righteousness. It takes time and balls and nerves of steel.

This fandom is currently in a typical cold war situation. The Arms Race stage - Pershing 1-A all over the place. The Eighties never left this building.

Guess what, Mordor? We are still here. You will have to learn to coexist with us in this fandom and if you want to be answered with decency, you urgently need to step up and balance your game. Insults won't do, anymore. Easy lies won't do, anymore. Pretexts won't do, anymore. Cackling won't do, anymore. Zig-Zag and Basement Reporter Anons won't do, anymore.

We're shippers and, just as this Nina Simone song is telling us, even if you take it all from us, we still got Life.

Quousque tandem abutere, Catilina Mordor, patientia nostra?

Enough is enough.

#fandom #shitshow #Youtube

[keenzinemugstudent]

Superman x witch fem black reader x Superboy! Our future? Part 1!

You come back from a mission only to meet a boy who claims to be your son?!

After your mission with Flash which was an epic win! After going back in time to help stop an ancient Egyptian pharaoh from destroying world you just wanted to turn in your report go home and watch TV and rest but life had another plan for you today!

"When you use that spell on that other guy and had him hallucinating that he was fighting in his underwear was absolutely hilarious Y/H/N! (Your Hero Name)

"Right? Like he didn't see that coming! I do feel bad for the poor guy tho." We entered the Batcave as we got closer we could hear three people talking I saw Batman and Superman an unfamiliar face. It was a boy well more like a teenager he had blue jeans, black combat boots with a black shirt when he turned around I can see the Superman symbol and for some reason you had this pull towards him and he looked strangely familiar?

"Hey guy's! We're back it took a while you know with the whole space-time thing but we're fine, we made it got the job done so uh who's the new guy new face looks pretty young to join the Justice League don't you think?" Flash says. Superman looked at me I gave him a small wave to say hello but he just gave an awkward smile looking pass you. It was weird he usually doesn't do that, something must have happened you turned your attention back to the teenager who was looking at you with his eyes glossing over like he was close to crying?

"Since when do we allow fans into the batcave?" I asked hands on my hips I had got a good look at his face better and to your surprise he looked kind of like Clark? Before you could say anything the boy ran towards you with such speed nearly knocked you over he pulled you into a big bear hug almost like he was too scared to let you go everyone just stood watching the scene Bruce stood with a blank face, Superman stood there with an uneasy look while Flash was just as confused as you were with what was going on.

"Your here! I made it just in time!" The boy says into your shoulder you honestly didn't know what the heck was going on but something in you felt a connection to this unknown boy. You hug him back rubbing his back he pulled back flustered.

"Uh hi?" I say with a confused smile.

"H-hi! I mean I'm sorry for uh hugging you I just got really excited!" The boy said with a nervous smile geez even his smile is like Clark's!

"That's fine hon just uh be careful next time you wanna hug someone. You nearly knocked me off my feet!" You say hitting his shoulder. He smiled but was still flustered, you got a better look he was definitely a spitting image of Clark but only a tad bit kid had some muscle on him that's for sure but what really caught your attention was his eye's they were Y/E/C (your eye color)you put a hand on his cheek making him flinch a bit from your warm touch.

"That's funny your eyes..." Before you could finish Flash cut you off sliding over next to you and the kid.

"Can someone explain what and who this boy is please?" Flash says looking the kid up and down, Batman looked towards Superman who looked back shaking his head Batman looked towards the boy who looked back nodding than turned at you nervous.

"Um so first I'm really happy to meet you and second please don't freak out when I tell you this but I'm Kon-el."

"Oh so you are Kryptonian! Another cousin you failed to tell us about Superman?" I asked jokingly but he just looked at you awkwardly with a tiny blush, okay what the heck is wrong with him? You just turned your attention back to the young man.

"Well it's very nice to meet you Kon-el the minute I saw you I knew you were somehow related to Superman. You are just as handsome as the man of steel himself!" You say with a smile he blushed at your words while Superman also looked flustered by you calling him handsome.

"Thanks...mom."

I froze the smile on my face slowly dropping I heard Flash gasped while Bruce and Clark stared at your face waiting for reaction the boy looked at you with a bit of concern but the only thing you could do was just stand in shock looking between the boy and Superman who was still waiting for your reaction but you let out a simple small confused "Huh?" before everything went black.

Clark's POV

Before anyone else could react Y/n eyes rolled in the back of her head luckily I had caught her in time. Conner I mean Superboy started to panic kneeling to the ground along side me.

"I-i'm sorry it just slipped out!" I just gave him a small understandable look.

"It's fine Superboy she's okay just in shock."

Not that you blame her I nearly had the same reaction I was in metropolis when Bruce had gave me the call saying that it was urgent I rushed over only to find Batman holding a teenage boy at gun point (it was a kryptonite gun) at first I was confused and concerned until Batman told me that the boy claimed to be mine and Y/H/N son which of course was hard to believe because I was in a relationship with Lois even though we've been having issues and Y/n had no interest in dating (at least that's what I was told by Diana) and we were only close friends nothing more nothing less. At least that's what I thought until the boy in front of me claimed to be our child and he needed the Justice League's help. Of course me and Bruce had doubts but I could see that he did resembled me a bit only he didn't have my blue eyes but had Y/E/C (your eye color) that's when the boy who called himself Superboy told Bruce to look in his back jean pocket and that there was a picture to prove it of course Batman did in to our surprise it was a picture of me and Y/n who was laying in a hospital bed, a beautiful but tired smile on her face and was holding a newborn baby, at the bottom of the photo it read "Welcome to the world our little miracle child Connor Kent" I had to hold on to something because I felt faint, Bruce held my shoulder trying to help me stand on my feet.

I had a son? the son of Superman and Y/H/N...we had a son?!

it just it sounded so...right??? I shouldn't be saying or thinking such things because I'm in a relationship with Lois but recently we've been having issues especially about how she feels about Y/n which just make this whole situation worse!

Just as Connor was trying to explain how he got here that was when Barry and Y/n entered the cave back from their mission, which brings us back to the present with me holding Y/h/n in my arms and Connor looking very concerned for his future mother.

"She did say she was tired after using so much magic and the shock of meeting Superboy I guess was too much for her body." Barry says arms crossed, I picked Y/n up bridal style then turn to looked at Bruce.

"I'll take care of this you call the other's." I say before walking out with Conner not far behind. Today has been tiring for everyone.

To be continued this and AU where Conner isn't a Clone between Lex and Clark but you and Superman's son idea I had while working 🤷‍♀️

Here part 2!

#clark kent #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x ofc #black reader #dc x reader #dc superheroes #bruce wayne #batman #conner kent #tv: titans #dc titans #superman #superboy #kon el #kon kent #kon el imagine #superman x you #black woman #henry cavil x y/n #conner kent x reader #young justice

[softlyspector]

Promise

Summary: A year after his mother’s death, Marc travels back to Chicago to face his father. He doesn’t expect it to be easy but he also doesn’t expect it to be so hard. He especially doesn’t expect to find refuge from the hard moments in a little known witch’s shop a few blocks over. And definitely not in one keeping watch over the family’s piano.

This chapter: Marc isn't taking you on a date. At least, he's pretty sure he's not.

Tales Untold; Part VI - Series Masterlist

Pairing: eventual Marc Spector x Reader (eventual minor Steven Grant x Reader and Jake Lockley x Reader)

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings (this chapter): fluff, Marc Spector’s terrible, oblivious flirting, lots of ✨touching✨, mental health issues, tense relationship with a parent, mentions of past child abuse, a touch of angst

A/N: Hello! As always, thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated! If there are any additional warnings that need added, please let me know. If you want to be added to the tag list, you can do so from the series masterlist!

VI.

Milwaukee Avenue, Chicago 3:16 PM

“Is that the last one?” 

Marc nods, examining the side of the last window box. 

It’s still a bit rough around the edges, but you seem to enjoy sanding them down yourself before you paint. 

“You did a good job,” Elias says, approaching Marc where he stands at the workbench. “I’m sure it’s appreciated.” 

Marc’s guard snaps up at the praise, shoulders raising around his ears, before he takes a breath, nods, and makes an effort to relax. “Yep. I think so.”

His father lies a hand along the wood, his fingers tracing the curved back edge. “I wonder whatever happened to that birdhouse we made.” 

He freezes, not expecting his father to mention that. “You…don’t know?” 

Elias shakes his head and tucks both hands behind his back. “I’m not sure. We never put it in the backyard.” He frowns and Marc glances up to meet his eyes, “Why didn’t we?” 

Marc sucks in a breath and diverts his gaze again, turning back to the bench to clear away the mess he’d made. “Probably because of mom.” 

The silence that follows his words lasts more than a few minutes while Marc works. He carefully puts the tools away, then clears away the leftover wood and sawdust. When he’s almost finished, it becomes clear his dad isn’t going to answer him. 

Marc turns to Elias. “I gotta go,” he says, because he’d rather not think about it. “I was supposed to be over at Tales Untold a couple hours ago.”

And he misses you. Every second he’s away he thinks about you, and he’s not sure if that’s normal or not. 

“Well,” Elias clears his voice, “At least it's over now.” He gestures at the flower box, but Marc is fairly sure he’s talking about something else.

It hurts. 

Maybe it's over, but he lives with it everyday. 

“Yeah,” he answers. “It’s done now.”

Elias pats his shoulder gently and then turns to walk back up the stairs. Marc doesn’t follow, staring at the last window box, wondering what it meant that it was done.

Tales Untold, Chicago 6:36 PM

Marc can hear you talking to a customer as he comes down the steps. 

At the foot of the stairs, he steels himself for any social interaction he might have to participate in. 

Usually, the customers ignore him. 

But some of them are chatty and others, the regulars, have started to recognize him. He knows they feel rude not speaking to him when they know him, but he’d prefer not to have to talk. 

He pushes aside the curtain that you pinned back in the evenings when the shop closed, and steps through.

To his surprise, you’re the one that turns to him excitedly. “Look Marc! Isn’t this perfect?” 

You hold up a vintage Cubs t-shirt with a smile. “Cool,” he comments mildly, approaching the counter where the customer stands. 

“You guys big Cubs fans?” She asks, her eyes darting over him. 

“Marc is,” you answer for him, folding the shirt up carefully on the counter with a smile. “But we’re going to a game soon.” 

“Yeah, well, those have been in the back of my closet for years. Can’t keep up with it anymore so it’s time to go.” 

You nod knowingly. “Yes, they are ready for a new home.” 

If the customer thinks anything of your phrasing, she doesn’t mention it. 

Marc tunes out of the rest of your conversation, patiently waiting for you to finish up, and only filtering back into the conversation when he notices the woman inching closer to him. You don’t seem to notice, or maybe you don’t care, but if she steps any closer, her arm is going to brush into his, and he can think of nothing worse. 

He moves to trail around the counter, leaning next to you on your side of it. He should have started there in the first place. He fingers the edge of the clothing stacked on the counter, a couple of t-shirts, a sweatshirt, and beneath that a couple of records. 

You finish with the woman and follow her to the front of the store to lock the door behind her and flip the open sign to closed.

“Y’know I’m sure I’ve got some vintage stuff somewhere if you want it,” he says when you find your way back to him. “Stuff from when…from before I left.” 

You ignore him to note, “She seemed to like you.” For one delusional moment, he thinks you might be jealous, until he looks up at you and catches the expression on your face. You’re trying and failing to suppress a smile. Your tone is teasing. 

Marc rolls his eyes. 

“Do you want what I have or not?” He huffs. 

“Sure,” you step up to the counter to grab the sweatshirt and t-shirts. You leave the records where they lie. “C’mon. I wanna try them on.” 

Marc follows you back upstairs anxiously. 

You’re talking, something about the weather predictions for the day of the Cubs game - supposedly it was going to rain that Saturday - when you pause at the top of the stairs. “Oh, my god. Marc?” You turn to look back down the steps at him, still halfway down the staircase. “Did you cook dinner?” 

“Yeah, well,” he grumbles, tromping up the rest of the stairs to stand beside you in the doorway, “you usually cook for me.” 

Your eyes sparkle, something gentle and infinitely fond resting in your gaze. “I didn’t realize you knew how,” you tease. 

“Ha ha,” he deadpans, glancing away, “hilarious.” 

You nudge your shoulder gently into his and then step into the apartment. His breath catches as you walk away, the scent of you and the heavy cut of your gaze lingering with him. 

“You’re too good to me, Marc. How am I ever supposed to pay you back?” 

Something inside him twinges. These are things he never wants paid back to him. “You don’t gotta. Just eat.” Then he adds, “You do a lot. For me. Don’t worry about it.” 

You hum and tuck the shirts you carry into the hamper just inside the bathroom door. “I always do. You’re much too good to me, honey,” you say with a soft smile. “I mean, without you, the storefront would still be a disaster. You’ve done so much.” 

“Don’t cut yourself short, you help all the time” he rumbles, moving back to the stove. You helped too much, like you don’t get why Marc does things for you. “Thought you were gonna try ‘em on?” 

“Should probably wash them first,” you amend yourself, washing your hands in the basin. 

The water shuts off and silence fills the air. 

He’s aware that you’re behind him, moving slowly closer, and he has to repress a smile. 

You’re not very stealthy anyways, but the scent of your skin gives you away even if you were. He turns and beckons you closer, reaching out to tug you close into his side.

“How do you always know?” you gripe. “I’m not a loud person.”

He kicks out a foot behind you, hemming you in between him and the stove. Really, it's just so he can touch you. “Go ahead and take a look,” he bumps his chin into your jaw, directing your gaze and not answering your question. You turn your head to meet his eyes instead, the look in them softened and content. 

“I stand by what I said. You do too much for me.” 

“Well,” he tries to joke, “You are behind on your painting responsibilities.”

So far, you’ve painted two of the three window boxes. You haven’t even considered how you want to paint the sign. 

You wrinkle your nose at him and turn to lift the lid on one of the pots. 

Milwaukee Avenue, Chicago 1:13 PM

“I forgot how much I missed this,” Marc says, twisting the tag off the new Cubs jersey. “Haven’t been to a game in years.” He tosses the tag into the trash and rolls his shoulders. The fabric is a bit staticky, which he doesn’t love. 

He fidgets with the hem of it, trying to decide if he should wear something under it so it doesn't stick to him. “Marc,” Steven pipes up, “Bit of water will do the trick to get rid of the static.” 

Jake tilts forward, examining the shirt. “We look good,” he comments, oddly mild in tone. 

If Marc didn’t know better, he’d say Jake was nervous. “It’s not a date,” he answers as he yanks the shirt off and turns on the tap to run cool water onto a washcloth. 

“Well, we can’t be sure since someone didn’t fuckin’ ask,” Jake rolls his eyes. 

Marc runs the cloth on the inside of the shirt and then over his skin before putting it back on. It’s much better. He adjusts the collar, decides it would have to do. “I didn’t ask because we’d sound like fucking idiots.” 

“Remember to take those shirts with you, yeah?” Steven reminds him, cutting off whatever Jake was about to say that would invariably escalate into an argument.  

“Got it,” he says, tugging his Cubs hat on before reaching for the bathroom door. 

Marc grabs the shirts that he’d dug out of the back of his closet from the hall side table where he’d left them. He calls out a goodbye to his father but doesn’t pause to listen for a response before he’s out the door and making his way to Tales Untold. 

He’s not sure you actually want them, considering you now have a collection of two t-shirts and a sweatshirt of a sport you don’t pay attention to. 

Still, he wants you to have them. 

He wants you to have them because they used to be his. Maybe it's a tad possessive, but he hopes you’ll want his things over a stranger’s. 

Marc had considered briefly if he should give them to you at all, stalled in the mouth of his childhood bedroom’s closet, his teenage wardrobe staring back at him. 

He’d been worried about what you might feel or see if you touch them. 

But baseball was a balm, a savior in his childhood and teenage years, so he figures their energy must be like the piano’s. Warm and sun drenched and good. 

When he thinks of baseball, he thinks of summer, miles of green grass in the park, warm days with his dad, melting ice cream. 

It has to be good. 

And this is something he wants to share with you after all. This is something that’s important to him. 

Halfway down your street, Marc makes a split second decision, and ducks into the florist next to Tales Untold. He’s immediately overwhelmed by what he sees, rows and rows of flowers and arrangements, a riot of color that makes him want to shut his eyes for a moment. 

“Can I help you?” The woman behind the counter straightens and smiles at him. 

“Good idea,” Jake muses from the glass of one refrigerated case. “Flowers are always good.” 

Marc relaxes a fraction, feeling less stupid than seconds before. Still, he has no idea what to get. 

It’s not a date, he thinks, and he can get you flowers for no good reason if he damn well pleases. 

“Yeah,” he turns to the woman and steps closer. “I think so.” 

“What are you looking for? If you don’t have an idea, I can help if you let me know what occasion you’re buying for.” 

Occasion? What the fuck was he supposed to say? A maybe date? A baseball game? 

You like purple though, that he knows, and tulips. 

“I’m, uh, looking for something purple. Or tulips. Whatever you have.” 

She smiles and rounds the counter, leading Marc deeper into the shop. “Well, I have either, or both.” She shows him a bouquet wrapped in paper. Purple tulips. “I also have pink or yellow tulips. Or, I have some options that are purple but not tulips.” 

Marc glances at where she points and decides to stick with what he knows. “Purple tulips are good.” 

“What’s the occasion?” She asks as they move to the counter and Marc pulls out his wallet. “If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Not actually sure,” he grumbles. 

She smiles to herself, like she’s heard that before. She makes sure the blooms are securely wrapped before handing them and the receipt over. “Well, good luck then.” 

“Thanks,” he manages, feeling odd. 

He’s never bought anyone flowers before. 

“Not a date,” Jake scoffs, “Who are you kidding, hermano?” 

Marc grits his teeth and doesn’t deign to respond. 

The shop’s door is unlocked when he tries it, and Marc wishes again that you’d stop doing that. He could knock, he could wait for you to come answer the door. 

He finds you upstairs examining yourself in the mirror by the door. “I think I like the vintage t-shirt look,” you say by way of greeting, not glancing at him as you turn and watch your reflection. 

“Looks good on you,” he answers, holding up the shirts he'd brought you. “Brought you mine. Washed ‘em and everything.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you smile and turn, grabbing the keys to your truck and the canvas bag you carried everywhere from the side table under the mirror. “Put them there,” you nod toward the counter with your chin, adjusting your shirt again. 

You haven’t looked at him properly yet, and he feels the tiniest stab of jealousy when it's clear you probably aren’t going to change, that you’ve settled on the shirt you have on. He crosses the counter to set them down before turning. “Where do you want these?” He brandishes the flowers at you, Jake cursing at him that he’s going to damage the stalks. 

You frown and glance at him through the mirror. “Wha- Oh!”

A surprised look pulls over your face and you turn to face him. “Did you get me flowers?” 

Marc grits his teeth, wondering why this felt so weird. “Yeah,” he grumbles. 

“Oh,” you say again, smiling this time as you move toward him. “That’s - that’s so kind of you.” You take the flowers from him, pressing your nose against them for a moment as you close your eyes and inhale, “I haven’t gotten flowers in forever.”

Marc watches you, watches the sun catch in your lashes before his gaze slips to the shape of your lips. “When was the last time?” He asks, eyes flicking back up to yours in time to see your eyes flick open again. 

“My dad got me flowers when I dropped out of college,” you laugh, a bright expression on your face. “It was a joke, y’know. Because people usually get them when they graduate. I’ve never gotten them from, uh-,” 

You don’t finish your thought, abruptly hugging Marc instead. It's so sudden and so quick, he doesn’t get to hug you back. He turns, his body automatically twisting to keep you in his eyesight when you slip past him. He watches you pull down a vase and stick them in, still wrapped in paper. “Thank you, Marc. I’ll fix them up properly later,” you say, stroking one petal lightly. “You got my favorite and everything.” 

You almost leave them sitting on the counter, but seem to think better of it. You carry them across the room to the window and leave them there, directly below one of the more recent stained glass creations. 

“‘Course I did,” he says softly when you just stand there staring at them in the afternoon sun. “We gotta go.”

“We do,” you say excitedly.  

Your energy is infectious and Marc finds himself smiling as he follows you down the stairs. 

Wrigley Field, Chicago 2:45 PM 

Marc is easy for you to read most of the time. But you can’t decide on what the flowers mean, on the slightly nervous way he’d held them out to you. 

The whole drive to the stadium, all you could think of was the way he almost kissed you, the way you thought he almost kissed you in the truck at the hardware store, the anxious way he’d asked you if you still wanted to go to a baseball game with him. And now, the flowers before said baseball game. 

Was it possible…that you were on a date? 

Probably not. You were reading into it too much. 

But, you had said it’s a date, the day you first talked about going to a game. Had you accidentally asked him on a date? 

It makes you giggle a little.

It’s stupid and funny, and you’re a little bit giddy that he wanted to go on a date with you if that’s what had happened. 

Marc’s hand is at the small of your back now, gently but pointedly moving you through the throngs of people already inside the stadium. 

“I had no idea so many people liked baseball,” you remark lightly.

Marc snorts. “You think you’re funny.” 

“I am funny. You laughed.” 

He rolls his eyes, guiding you into line at a concession stand. 

If it had been anyone other than Marc, you would have been annoyed at the hand against your spine. But you like his touch, the warmth of his palm soaking through your shirt, slightly possessive and entirely protective. Though you have a sneaking suspicion that it’s more for his benefit, to ground himself in the crowd, than anything else. 

You watch Marc’s eyes scan the crowd, before they snap back to you. “So,” you start, Marc’s hand finally dropping from your back. You immediately miss the warmth of his touch. “Steven told me he works at a museum in London.” He’d also told you a funny little half story about how he’d been fired from his other museum job, so many details left out it hardly made sense. Something about a bathroom, something about security cameras. 

Marc goes still at your words, like he knows what you’re going to ask next. 

“But you never said what you do. Or is Steven the breadwinner?” You nudge your hip into his side. “Military?” 

“How-,” 

“It’s in the way you stand. It’s in the way you watch the crowd.” 

He scoffs at you but there’s no malice in it. “Think that’s just the general PTSD.” 

“Fair enough,” you say with a laugh as you inch forward in line. Marc tugs you out of the way of a group of drunk friends, already swaying and boisterous, cups of beer sloshing in their hands. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

He sighs, hand retreating once more. “It’s a little complicated.” 

You shift closer to him and loop your arm through his, tightening your fingers on his bicep. The muscle is firm beneath your touch, skin hot under the soft fabric of the Cubs jersey. You glance at his hand, wondering how weird, or how obvious, you might be if you tangled your fingers with his. 

You push down the urge, instead watching the twist of tendon in his forearm, the vein that runs to his elbow, the shape of his hands. He has beautiful hands, veined, the skin darker than when you’d met him from hours spent outside over the last weeks and months.

Just like when you’d first met him, you get the sense that he doesn’t know, or at least doesn’t think about, how beautiful he is. Unfairly gorgeous, really. 

“But you were in the military,” you glance back to his eyes. 

“I was,” he answers and avoids your gaze, raven eyes focused on the cement beneath his feet, brow furrowed. 

You let it drop after that, when he seems uncomfortable with admitting it. It’s quiet for a moment, but Marc reaches up with his other hand to lie his fingers over yours. He squeezes your hand. “So, what did you do? You told my dad you were a server.” 

You grin and try to hide it by pressing your face into his shoulder. “Can you believe,” you murmur, “that we know so many things about each other and not this?”

You think Marc will just roll his eyes, but he chuckles lowly, fingers tightening on yours before he lets go. “So?” 

“I tried college. I hated it. I tried working in offices. I hated it. I didn’t like serving but I also didn’t mind it as much as the other things. Less monotony with it, I guess. So, that’s what I did.”

You reach the front of the line then, and Marc insists on paying for what you order. He carries your drinks while you juggle the food. “Do you ever wish you’d finished school?” 

“No,” you tilt your head as Marc navigates the crowd. “I would have been miserable. I know I’m lucky to have ended up where I have.” He’s slightly ahead of you, leading more than walking with you. 

A smile tugs at your mouth when he seems to realize it, slowing his pace so you can walk next to him. “I’m lucky you ended up where you are.” 

The words are weighted, though Marc tries to assume a casualness about it. 

Your heart gives a strange little pulse, and you remember again the way he’d almost kissed you outside the hardware store. The humid, sun warmed little world, the push of his skin against yours. 

Or, maybe he hadn’t been. Maybe you were just hopeful and willing to believe what you wanted to be true. 

Certainly either Steven or Jake hadn’t been too thrilled about it. Your stomach clenches when you remember the violent way he’d jerked away from your hand. 

Or, maybe you were reading into that too, and Marc hadn’t wanted to kiss you. 

You’d rather not risk what you have with Marc trying to decipher it. 

You’ve still even yet to meet the elusive Jake. 

The air is sticky with moisture, but not hot, and when Marc leads you to the mouth of the stairs that lead down into the seating, a warm breeze blows over you that alleviates some of the mugginess. 

On the horizon dark clouds crowd the sky, fat, and heavy with rain. “Think we’ll get rained on?” You ask Marc as you descend the steps carefully to your seats.

Marc reaches out to steady you, setting the cups aside so you can balance one hand on his arm and take some of the snacks from you with the other. “Nah,” he answers when you’re seated. “I won’t let it.” 

“Oh, you control the weather now?”

“No,” he smirks, “But this is the midwest and the weather reports are never right. It won’t rain.” 

You nudge your shoulder into his, “Okay, I think I might agree with you.” Marc's mouth twitches again into what you’ve come to realize is a smile, more relaxed now, and hooks his arm behind your shoulders along the back of your seat. 

Immediately you’re overwhelmed by his scent, the clean soapy smell of him. He’s wearing his usual cologne, earthy with sage and bergamot.

Despite your best intentions, you lean into him a little while resisting the urge to just press your face into his shoulder, his neck. 

It doesn't help that he’s unfairly handsome. No person should look that good in a baseball jersey. He’s looking out at the field, a muscle jumping in his cheek, sharp jaw flexing every few seconds with lingering anxiety. The tendons stand out in his neck and you wonder again if Marc is ever at ease. 

The top few buttons of the jersey are undone, the smooth expanse of skin beneath enticing. You catch the glitter of the necklace that always hangs around his throat. You’ve yet to see it in its entirety, curious as to what hangs on the end or if it was only a chain. 

He’s beautiful. And it makes you sick with longing. He’s too pretty for his own good.

You clear your throat, shaking yourself a little. 

“Are you going to explain what’s going on to me?” You ask, plucking up the basket of french fries you’d ordered. 

He glances over at you in surprise and you have to resist the urge to reach up and pull his baseball cap off. His eyes are shaded, darker than usual in the shadow of the bill. You want to see the shades of brown in the sun, you want to see his dark curls slip across his forehead and his brows to wrinkle in irritation when they do. “You’ve never been to a baseball game.”

“This is my very first,” you confirm. 

“Why didn’t you say somethin’?” 

“Well,” you shrug, “because it didn’t matter. I wanted to go. With you.” 

Marc rolls his eyes at you, “Right, but I woulda done more if I’d known, sweetheart.” 

Your breath catches in your lungs at the endearment on his tongue. Marc seems surprised too, but you brush past it quickly. You call him honey, afterall. “And what would you have done, Marc?” 

“Gave you a lesson on baseball,” he deadpans, not looking away from you. 

“Glad I didn’t say anything then,” you note and Marc’s face breaks into a half suppressed smile. He looks away from you, shaking his head. “So, are you gonna explain what’s going on to me?” 

“Of course I will.” 

You try to hide your smile and fail, instead offering the basket of fries to him as you wait for the game to start. “Okay, so go ahead.”

Wrigley Field, Chicago 5:53 PM

Marc makes a fairly funny companion for a baseball game. 

You usually don’t witness such intense displays of emotion from him. You’d expected him to watch with his usual passive grumpiness, but to your surprise, he’s on his feet and shouting along with the rest of the spectators when it's called for, tugging you up with him. 

You’re a good sport about it, cheering along with him. 

It’s funny and very endearing and incredibly fun. 

The people sitting next to you make conversation with you when they notice your vintage t-shirt, which you’re very proud of, and find out it's your first game. Marc’s mouth only twitches when they endeavor to make your first game memorable. They buy you a cup of beer and make enough noise to get you on the jumbotron once. 

Marc even chats with them, pokes lightly at you with them for not being a lifelong fan. He seems at ease talking to them, either because they’re also native Chicagoans or because it's the familiar subject of baseball, you aren’t sure. 

You like how open he is, how he doesn’t try to hide anything in those moments. You wonder what he’d be like if he weren’t always so self contained, if he didn’t feel like he always had to hide.  

He periodically hooks an arm around your waist and tugs you close so he can explain what’s going on, his mouth pressed against your ear.

You catch onto the rules pretty quickly but you don’t tell Marc that. You like the way his arm feels around your waist too much, the heavy warmth of his touch. 

Even when he lets go of you, one hand usually stays hooked into the fabric of your shirt at your waist. Marc doesn’t seem to realize that he’s doing it, fidgeting with the material in a self soothing way and inadvertently keeping you close to him. 

When those heavy clouds on the horizon eventually obscure the sun as the game nears its end, Marc takes his cap off and you get the very real pleasure of seeing his loose curls flop forward. “I love your hair,” you tell him before you can stop yourself, reaching up to tug on the end of one lock. 

“You’re supposed to be payin’ attention to the game,” he grumbles as he tilts his chin down, letting you brush them back into place for him. “Not me.” 

“Can’t I do both?” 

Marc shakes his head, looking faintly amused. “What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his gaze not wavering from yours as the game ends and the crowd erupts in cheers. 

“Cubs won,” you say, finally glancing away over the excited crowd. The purple clouds have rolled ever closer, darkening the stadium as people begin moving en masse towards the exits. “It’s gonna rain.” 

“It’s not gonna rain,” Marc says, and this time when he leads you into the crowd, he reaches down and tangles his fingers with yours. “It’s gonna blow over like it always does.” 

You snort but don’t contradict him. 

The fork of lightning that cuts through the sky makes you laugh, and Marc squeezes your fingers in response. 

The air has that sweet, sharp smell it always does right before it rains. When you reach the road, the clouds overhead look like they’ve settled in, heavy and stormy, over the city. A distant rumble of thunder makes you lift your brow, but Marc pointedly avoids your gaze. 

You glance at your companion, the sharp cut of his jaw, the line of his nose, dark eyes that scan the street around you, tugging you a bit closer whenever anyone invades the little bubble Marc seems to create around you. He has an intense stare that keeps most people at a distance. 

But he seems calm now, despite the crowd, the tiny smile he tries to suppress is still pulling at his lips. 

It makes you happy, and you wonder again about how he’d asked you if you still wanted to do this at all. You wonder again at the flowers. You wonder again at what you think was a near kiss. 

Maybe, that day in the truck, he’d questioned himself, thought he was misreading you, like you had with this. 

You’re fairly sure you’re on a date. 

You certainly hope you are. 

Marc is so unsure of himself, questions and questions, not only others, but himself and how he interprets what others say to him. Reality is fluid to Marc, like things might change at a second's notice. “Marc,” you tighten your fingers around his. “I’m having a really good time,” you assure him as you walk. “I’m happy we decided to do this.”  

“Glad to hear it,” he hums. You’re a couple blocks from the stadium now, nearing the lot you’d parked in. 

You open your mouth to say more, when the sky suddenly opens up. The rain you had warned against, slams down on you in an instant. 

The shock of it is cold and uncomfortable but you laugh anyways. “Ha!” You shout over the din, thunder following in the distance. “I told you it was gonna rain!”

Marc is scanning the street again, “Yeah, yeah, c’mon,” he yanks you along, not unkindly, until you’re sheltered beneath an awning of a shop along with other fans departing the game. 

It’s uncomfortable and close, but you and Marc end up shoved into a corner, against a brick wall. Marc turns his back to the people behind him, curling an arm around your waist. 

Your entire world is subsumed by Marc. 

He smells like rain, the coppery scent of bare skin, the usual scent of him washed away. You reach up and swipe some of the rainwater off of his face. “I was right.” 

“You were right,” he concedes, only slightly grouchy in tone. “It’s raining.” 

A man bumps into Marc, jostles you a little, and he slides closer to you with an irritated growl. “Where’s that pizza place?” You ask to distract him. “Do we need the truck? Can we walk?” 

“You wanna walk in this?” 

“No, honey,” you roll your eyes, “but if it's like a street over-,”

“We were headed there,” he interrupts. “It’s a couple blocks over. Not worth it to move the truck.” 

The air is warm and humid, the brick walled corner  you’re backed against, chilled. Marc is so close to you, that you would only need to tilt your head a little to brush your forehead against his. 

His fingers tighten on your hip, “Y’know,” he swallows, head tilting to the side, listening to voices you can’t hear. “Steven and Jake have been hounding me to ask you if this was a date.” 

Your belly lurches, heart in your throat. “Oh?” 

Marc’s chest rises and falls quickly, the sound of the rain and the chatter so loud it makes him hard to hear. “Yeah.” 

“And is it?” You lean closer, heart pounding a hard rhythm against your sternum. 

Marc blinks at you. “I-,” 

“Can I be honest?” You ask, raising one hand to balance on his shoulder. Marc gives a tight nod of his head, his guard already up, shoulders hiking up around his ears. “I didn’t think this was a date.” Marc ducks his head at your words, opening his mouth to say something you’re sure is going to break your heart, but you don’t let him speak. “But I would be…really, terribly, overjoyed if it was.” 

Marc only looks up at you when you push a gentle finger beneath his chin. 

You smile at him, then laugh when his frown deepens. “I mean it.” 

The rain is still bucketing down, the pocket of people you’re sequestered behind not paying you any attention, and you suddenly can’t stop laughing. 

You fall forward into Marc, locking your arms around him tightly. “Don’t think about it too hard. I meant exactly what I said,” you chuckle into his ear. “I want this to be a date so bad, honey.” 

For a long moment, he doesn’t respond, one arm still around your waist while the other hangs loosely at his side. 

When the silence shows no sign of ending, you start to pull back, worried you’d severely misread the situation.

But Marc doesn’t let you pull away, his free hand reaching up to cradle your jaw. He searches your eyes, fingers slipping back behind your ear, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone, the touch possessive and desperate. 

He’s the only thing you can see again, wedged between the corner of the wall and the solidity of his body. 

“Marc?” 

“This is a date,” he says, his voice quiet, eyes drifting to your mouth. “It’s…yeah. It’s a date.” 

You laugh again, the sound a little wild. He looks a little feral, water webbing his lashes together, his curls standing out more than ever, eyes hooded and focused entirely on you. His skin is still damp and you aren’t entirely sure what you’re going to say when you open your mouth. 

But it doesn’t matter, because Marc leans forward and presses his mouth to yours. 

You suck in a shaky breath as Marc releases your waist, his hand pressing to the other side of your face to mirror the first. 

For a long second, you can’t catch your breath, overwhelmed by the suddenness of it, the elation spiderwebbing across your chest. Your heart feels like it may actually stop, the gallop of your pulse loud in your ears. 

He starts to pull away when your mind catches up to the moment. You fist your hands in the smooth, damp fabric of the jersey against his ribs, steadying yourself against him. You kiss him back, moving your lips with his.

He tastes like rain, and like the lemon chill you’d shared during the seventh inning stretch. 

Marc’s kiss is slow and steady and deliberate. It pulls you apart, sends sparks skittering along your skin. He tilts your head back, skims his lips across your cheek, nose brushing yours when he moves back to your mouth. 

The inky umber of his eyes lock onto yours for a moment, his breath fanning across your lips. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs before he kisses you again, his tongue briefly teasing at your bottom lip. He only tastes you for a moment, meeting your tongue, before he pulls back, aware of where you are, that you aren’t alone. 

He releases your face to wrap his arms around you, tucking you close to him, face buried against your neck as he breathes you in.

Your breath comes in little pants, your body only realizing then that it needed oxygen, like Marc would have been enough to sustain you if he just kept kissing you. 

You peer at the people behind Marc, but none of them are paying you any attention, their backs turned as they huddle in their own little groups, their own little worlds. 

“I didn’t know if it was a date either,” he says when he pulls back. His gaze is oddly light, a weight that was usually settled in them gone. 

“Yeah,” you tuck a loose, damp curl back from his forehead. “But you’re glad it is?”

He laughs. 

It’s not a low chuckle or a snort, but a full, loud laugh.

A few heads turn your way at the sound and you grin so big your face hurts. “Yeah. You could say that.” 

The rain begins to slow then, and some people brave the wet, giving you a bit more space. “Good.” 

Marc loosens himself from around you, taking your hand to fold between his fingers. “Wanna go get that pizza now? We can still make the reservation.” 

“You made a reservation?” 

“Yeah,” he rumbles, glancing out at the raindrops still falling. “You need one after a game. Too many people.” 

Something about it, the thoughtfulness, the little things Marc did that he hardly saw the value in, makes your throat close. “Okay. Yes,” your voice cracks. 

“You okay?” His voice is low and concerned.

You nod, and tug on his hand. “I promise. Let’s go.” 

He searches your eyes, and you reach up to lie a hand on his cheek, pressing a kiss to his mouth carefully. “I said I promise.” 

“Let’s go,” he agrees, fighting another smile. 

Tales Untold, Chicago 1:15 AM

The storm clouds haven’t quite left the area when Marc parks your truck at the curb outside Tales Untold. 

He comes to the door with you but says he should go home. You step up to the door while he remains on the sidewalk, several paces back from you. 

You don’t argue with him, sliding the key into the lock and twisting it, before you turn back to him. Marc’s usual frown is in place beneath the street light, the divot between his brows deep. You reach for him and Marc immediately steps closer to you, taking your hand.  

You tilt your head down to kiss him again, thumbing at the line between his brows until it dissolves beneath your touch. 

Marc moves up onto the step with you, cages you against the door. 

His kisses are still slow and deliberate, laden with a quiet passion that makes your blood sing. 

You bury your hands in his hair, the strands soft and loose in the humid air. “I think I like baseball.” 

“Good,” he says, lips brushing yours. “We’ll go again. Sometime. Before the season is over.” 

You smile and Marc pushes his forehead against yours briefly, the act strangely intimate, before he pulls away entirely. “Goodnight, honey,” you say, reluctantly releasing him. 

“‘Night, baby,” he steps back onto the sidewalk. 

You’re not sure your heart can handle any more surprises. Certainly not him calling you baby. 

Marc turns and starts to walk away when he pauses and pivots back. “Go inside,” he juts his chin toward the door. 

You know he’s not going to budge while you’re still on the street. “Only if you wait ‘til I’m upstairs so I can watch you walk down the street.” 

He rolls his eyes and stuffs his hands in his pockets, feigning annoyance, “Fine. Go.” 

You hastily pull the shop’s door open, making sure to twist the lock back into place so Marc won’t have a cow about safety again, before you dart through the dark shop. You feel giddy, filled to the brim with nerves. 

You trip up the steps and throw open the window to search for him. 

He’s still standing there, arms crossed over his chest now, and if you didn’t know better you’d say he’s smiling. “Okay,” you call down, propping your chin on your hand on the window sill. “Goodnight.” 

“‘Night, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” 

You watch him walk down the street until he turns down an alley to cut through to the next street. 

The road is quiet after that, but you don’t move for a long moment, letting the warm breeze kiss your skin. 

Your clothes have long since dried and are now oddly stiff. You feel sticky and gross all at once, from being in the sun and then rained on before spending way too much time in a pizza place. “Made sure they have vegetarian shit,” he’d said as you sat down, his voice gruff. 

And once again, you’d been shocked by the thoughtfulness, the way he considered things carefully where you were concerned. 

The pizza was good, the ice cream you went for after even better. 

He’d tasted like chocolate when you kissed him in the truck, awkwardly making out over the center console like teenagers afraid of being caught by their parents. 

Marc kisses like a man starved though, like it’s his last night on earth. He left you breathless. 

You smile, feeling stupid with affection as you stand and shut the window. The tulips are perky and beautiful in their vase, a lovely reminder of the day. You take a mental note to save one of the blooms to press and preserve, as you carry the glass to the sink to fill with water. 

You remove the flowers and unwrap the paper, cut the stems and put them back. 

When you turn to place the tulips back in the window, you spot the shirts Marc had brought you. 

Vintage t-shirts from his teenage years. 

You smile and place the vase on the kitchen island instead, reaching for the shirts. 

He’d said he washed them for you, and you can only hope they smell like him. Maybe it's pathetic, but you want to sleep wrapped in his scent. You want to feel like he’s there even if he isn’t. 

You wish he would have stayed the night, but you haven’t been able to convince him to stay since that night you fell asleep together under the piano. 

You have a suspicion that Marc is still worried he’s taking too much from you. 

You’re distracted, still thinking of Marc, when you absently touch the shirt. 

When you touch the folded shirt, you don’t recognize the feeling that ripples through you, completely at odds to your mood. And then it hits you. An intense pain and grief rocks through you, a confused swirl of emotion that’s impossible to decipher. 

It fucking hurts. 

Touching things has never hurt before. 

You let out a scream no one will ever hear and drop to the floor, yanking your hand away from the fabric. 

It’s too late, because the memory hits you a second later, and the pain doesn't fade from your mind for hours afterwards. 

Tales Untold, Chicago 8:13 AM 

The door is locked. 

Good. Maybe you were finally learning to keep it shut. 

The sign is flipped to closed. 

Not unusual. You don’t open until eleven on Sundays. 

Marc knocks. 

And you don’t answer. 

“Marc,” Steven points from the reflection in the front window. “Left a note, I think.” 

He leans forward, squinting against the glare. Your handwriting is scrawled across a sheet of notebook paper, the edges roughly ripped. 

Marc, 

If you come by and see this, I’m not feeling so well. Won’t be opening the shop today. 

You sign the note with your name with no further explanation. 

“Not feeling well?” Steven asks, sounding confused. 

Marc feels confused. 

His heart sinks into his gut. It’s too much of a coincidence. Today, the day after he’d finally fucking got it together and - 

He pulls out his phone. He has your number saved from when you’d insisted he have it. 

Why hadn’t you called him? 

He presses your contact and lifts the phone to his ear, glancing up at your apartment window. The call goes to voicemail after two rings and so it's obvious you’ve declined his call. 

He tries again, but this time it rings into oblivion, until your voicemail message trills out. “Hey,” he says into the speaker, voice creaking. “Hey,” he clears his throat, “I - uh - I saw your note. If you need anything - just - text me. Text me anyway. Lemme know you’re okay.” 

He winces, he’s never said the words text me in his life. 

“Or call me. Look, I, if I did something wrong. Tell me. I’ll fix it. I hope you’re okay.” 

He hangs up before he can say anything else, anything more pathetic. 

Still, it’s hard to breathe, hard to swallow around the knot of worry in his throat. 

He watches your window, then blinks down at the bag of pastries he’d gotten from Flour Up. He’d almost stopped for coffee too, but he much preferred it when you made it for him, when he got to use that white mocha whatever in his coffee. 

Marc’s phone buzzes. 

I’m okay. 

Buzz. 

You didn’t do anything wrong. 

Buzz. 

I promise. 

He waits for another message that doesn’t come. 

Marc looks back up at your window, but the curtains don’t so much as twitch. 

Thank you for reading! A special thank you to those keeping up with the series, and for all the continued love and support.

Comments and feedback are so appreciated. New parts will be posted Saturdays at 3PM EST! You can add yourself to the tag list on the series masterlist.

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[ephemerasnape]

The sight that greeted Victor Rookwood as he exited the Hog's Head that fateful evening would be forever ingrained in his memory.

The street was dark and eerily quiet, and the dapper wizard had just taken a few steps outside the seedy pub before he realized something was amiss, causing him to stop abruptly and survey his surroundings.

"Lumos."

Continued below...

At first, Victor was more disoriented than anything - unsure that he could trust what he was seeing with his own eyes. The dark wizard blinked a few times in confusion before, slowly, he began to make sense of the gruesome display before him.

Heaps of... dirty rags? Someone has made rather a mess, it seems. . .

No. That's blood.

Blood and worse.

Before him was a scene of utter carnage the likes of which he'd never seen. A slaughter. The lifeless bodies of several young witches were splayed out in the middle of Spire Alley, a spectacle so macabre that even the dark wizard, well-accustomed to death, felt his stomach lurch at the sight.

A ginger witch lay eviscerated. Another's golden hair fanned around her angelic face like a halo. A brunette was positioned face down in a pool of her own blood. A strange-looking witch with odd-coloured hair... Victor shuddered as he recalled that one. He remembered her as having been particularly annoying.

And yet more still.

Sisters in death. Some he recognized outright, a vague familiarity to the rest. Their faces - doubtless once beautiful, now befouled by their own blood. Twisted limbs at grotesque angles. Internal organs now decidedly external.

Gods..

And in the center a... survivor? Victor tentatively stepped forward, perhaps even to offer a helping hand, as the pale witch clad in black gazed up at him adoringly.

"Victor.. I did it for you. For us."

Rookwood watched, horrified comprehension dawning on his face as the witch released a bloodied dagger she'd been holding. He barely registered the sound of the steel clattering to the cobblestone over the pounding of his heart.

"I love you, Victor."

#victor rookwood #daddy rookwood #rookwood #victor rookwood & mcs who are totally not self-inserts #hogwarts legacy fanart #victor rookwood fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #victor rookwood fanart #minific #rookwood x me #victor rookwood x me #shameless self-insert #yandere #self ship #meet the Rookwood Group PR witch #He doesn't even know my name probably #How sad is that #my commissions #my fics #tw gore #tw homicide #if i can't have him no one can #to be fair this commission has been such a long time coming (and it's still unfinished #(hence the bw) that I was having a very bad flare up causing emotional issues back in DECEMBER when I commissioned it #I am doing better now but I promised a wall of heads #and a wall of heads we shall have #anyway it's just a joke at this point #when I commissioned it I was planning to travel across time space and the fabric of reality to kill all the bitches (and wizards) #y'all are putting with my man. But now it's just a joke so don't get mad. #please and thanks

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Manga ch.97-99

Cell Max is running wild, but don't worry, because Goten and Trunks are here to pad the story give Piccolo and Gohan a breather.

To be fair, the boys do a little better once they turn Super Saiyan, which kind of begs the question of why they didn't just turn Super Saiyan from the start. This page's sole purpose is to have the Gammas notice their "resemblance" to Saiyaman X-1 and X-2. This would be annoying enough even if they did look alike, but they don't. Look at them! Trunks and Goten have tights and some sort of Stormtrooper midriff thing going on. The Gammas are wearing jodhpurs and bellhop jackets. And Goten and Trunks' color schemes are clearly reversed from one to the other. The Gammas match perfectly except for their red and blue capes.

The only real similarities here are the numbers on their costumes, and the fact that there are two of them. Oh, and Gamma 1 has a red cape, and Goten has a red cape. Eerie! What are the odds of two superheroes having red capes? You almost never see that. I mean, there's Superman, Thor, Great Saiyaman, Dr. Strange, Spawn, Great Saiyaman 2, the Scarlet Witch, Supergirl, Great Saiyaman 3, Power Girl, Steel, but other than those characters, I can't think of anyone else!

Then they all pose together and attack Cell Max in concert. It looks impressive, but their quadruple-team fails to do any damage. The Gammas acknowledge that Cell Max is still getting used to moving around in his body, so he's not fighting as effectively as he will be later in the story. So that's why Goten and Trunks can do this well without actually hurting their opponent. And that's fair.

What doesn't make a lot of sense is the Gammas' role in this part of the battle. Of everyone involved in this battle, they alone understand the danger Cell Max poses to the world, because Dr. Hedo told them about Max's powers. That's why they went in first when Cell Max first emerged. They knew they had to shut him down as quickly as possible. And they're not rusty like Goten and Trunks, or unfamiliar with their bodies like Cell Max. If there's a window of opportunity here for Goten and Trunks to fight Cell Max without looking outclassed, then you'd think the Gammas would use this chance to target Max's head and finish him off.

Of course, they can't actually do that, since that's not what happened in the movie, but that's the problem I have with all of this. Toyotaro keeps shoehorning Goten and Trunks into this story, and their scenes tend to interfere with the plot instead of adding to it. The Gammas have a cool gimmick and aesthetic with the super hero thing. It works. They don't need two more characters aping that look right beside them. At best it's redundant, and at worst it just cramps their style. It'd be like if Frieza had a teen sidekick following him around repeating everything he says. It would kill his whole vibe.

Okay, so once Goten and Trunks fuse into Gotenks, the battle plays out mostly like it did in the movie, but there's one part that got changed up and it caused some controversy in the fandom. Remember how Pan almost got killed, and Krillin called out to her and told her to fly, and then she managed to fly for the first time?

So in the manga, Pan has the same moment, except she doesn't take flight. Instead...

In this version, Krillin just flies over and grabs her. And that makes sense. Why would he just assume she can fly on her own? Why not just zip over and get her? However, this kills the character arc Pan had in the movie. She started the film wishing she could do more advanced training, but Piccolo won't let her because she can't fly yet. Then in this scene, she does fly, and when the movie ends she shows Piccolo and he proudly agrees to start giving her the advanced lessons.

Fans didn't like this version, because Toyotaro appeared to be saying "no" to something the fans enjoyed in the movie. Krillin doesn't need a hero moment in this scene because he gets a couple of hero moments when he helps fight Cell Max. He saves 18 and distracts Cell Max with a solar flare. Krillin's fine. So it sure looks like Toyotaro just scrapped Pan's big moment for no discernible reason. This happened in Chapter 97.

Hey, check out this cool shot of Orange Piccolo fighting Cell Max.

Right, back to what I was saying.

So in Chapter 98, Toyotaro redeems himself by having Pan fly for the first time, just in a later part of the battle. When Big Orange Piccolo gives the last senzu bean to Gohan in the movie, Gohan just eats it and that's it. But in the manga, Cell Max attacks Piccolo and knocks it out of his hand. No one can catch it, until Pan goes after it and follows it over a ledge. Gohan's worried, but then it turns out she can fly now so she was never in danger, and she gets to help him this way.

Is it better than the movie? I can see a case for this version, but one thing that bugs me is that it seems a bit contrived for Pan to notice the senzu bean and be able to follow it through the air the way she did. I believe she could and would catch it for her dad. That's fine. But I'm not sure she would understand the need from where she was sitting in Bulma's aircraft.

For that matter, I don't know that it makes sense for Pan to understand what a senzu bean is, or why Gohan would need one so badly. Someone might have explained it to her at some point, but Pan's only three years old. I wouldn't expect her to know everything about everything.

Anyway, it goes to show how much can change from one chapter to another. People were mad about Chapter 97, but only because they didn't have 98 right there in front of them to show them it wasn't that big a deal. This is one major reason why I don't like to read the manga as it publishes.

From here, well, I think I'm just down to cool shots of the fight with Cell Max.

I don't think much is different here, but the art is cool, and this is one of my favorite parts of the movie.

I think this is a manga-only bit. Cell Max works over Piccolo with ki blasts, and it looks like Piccolo blows up, which triggers Gohan's Beast form, but then later it turns out Gamma 1 was protecting Piccolo with his force field, which allowed him to withstand the blast.

Also, when Cell Max tries to use his wings to escape the attack Gohan has planned, Toyotaro has Gamma 1, Krillin, and 18 cut off his wings. Not sure we needed this, but sure, it gives those characters one more chance to shine.

And then Piccolo holds Cell Max down and pleads with Gohan to take the shot, and that's the end of chapter 99.

And that gets me all caught up. Now I just have to wait for Chapter 100, which is supposed to drop on December 20. Hopefully, it'll wrap up the Super Hero adaptation, but I wouldn't put it past Toyotaro to drag this thing out another three chapters with some sort of press conference featuring Sergeant Nutz, Saiyaman X-1 and X-2, and Cleangod.

There's been talk of a big surprise twist or something in chapter 100, but I'm not holding my breath. Usually when this franchise has a big announcement, it's about the date for some actual announcement later, and that announcement usually turns out to be something the fans kind of already heard about anyway. "Yes, we will be releasing a Chapter 101" is the sort of thing I would expect them to "announce" in chapter 100.

It would be cool if Chapter 100 ended with Black Frieza showing up and killing Vegeta or something major like that. Or, I don't know, maybe Goten and Trunks turn evil. Those would be shocking developments, but I doubt this manga would go that far. We'll just have to see...

#dragon ball #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #dragon ball super manga #goten #trunks #gamma 1 #gamma 2 #bulma #krillin #piccolo #pan #son pan #cell max #android 18 #gohan

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 9: Something So Brand New

Summary: Theo makes good on her promise to Loki, and shenanigans ensue.

Author's Notes: So this is a longer chapter than I usually post, but given it all takes place during the span of one evening it didn’t make sense to split into two chapters. If you love Loki/Theo interactions, you’re in for a treat here. There’s also Brodinsons and Wanda/Theo friendship building as well. 

I’m *hoping* to post my next chapter on December 10, but I sense that we’re about to hit a rocky patch at my job as a series of stressors all collide (aka shit’s about to hit the fan), so I’m going to give myself a one week buffer and say that the chapter will be up by no later than December 17th. It’s written, but I’ve found that I like to go back and do an in-depth editing pass before posting that usually takes at least a few hours… Essentially, I would rather underpromise and overdeliver than say I’ll post something and then just… not. 

Oh, and RE: shit hitting the fan at work - I’m not worried about myself amidst the work stuff (I’m not about to lose my job or anything). I'm worried about the students I work with and how they’ll handle everything… And since my job is supporting said students, I imagine I’ll probably have my hands full. I’m intentionally being vague for privacy reasons, and in hopes that it doesn’t blow up so my concern is pointless. 

Completely unrelated, but I saw The Maine live last week and they opened with this song! They put on a great live show. 10/10 do recommend. 

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog and reblogs really help me out <3

Content Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking (including getting a bit too drunk). 

Word Count: 9,384

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Dose No. 2 - The Maine

First breath out of a coma Over and over Oh what a lovely view of you  A two step into disorder I stumble forward Towards something so brand new

“Hey, uh - some of us are going to hang out up on the roof tonight. Want to join?” 

Ever since Theo relented to Loki’s begging (and though he wouldn’t admit it, he totally begged her to join them), a foreboding sense of dread hung over Theo like a storm cloud, waiting for this very moment. A night of forced socializing and feigned pleasantries as the other Avengers tried not to make their suspicions about Theo painfully obvious - Theo would rather watch paint dry.

Across the threshold, hope radiated through the smile on Wanda’s face. She stood with hands in hoodie pockets, jeans and birkenstocks completing the Scarlet Witch’s look for that day. The outfit surprised Theo - from observation, Wanda only wore pants when working out, opting for skirts and dresses in daily life. Theo would have confidently bet real money that Wanda didn’t even own a pair of jeans.

Then again, it wasn’t the first time Theo was wrong, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every possible excuse percolated in Theo’s mind for why she couldn’t join - lying about having plans, claiming she was tired or didn’t feel well, even outright admitting she didn’t want to go – but then Loki’s voice interrupted her thoughts, reminding her about the deal she struck.

And, well, after reading about the aftermath of Ultron and Sokovia, Theo realized they had more in common than she first thought.

“I— yeah, sure.”  Theo swallowed thickly, steeling herself for a miserable evening. She forced a smile at Wanda, praying that the expression didn’t look as uncomfortable as it felt. “I’ll join - let me grab a couple things first.”

Wanda’s face lit up, eyes wide as planets as she processed Theo's answer. “Great! This is going to be awesome! Uh, you should probably grab shoes, and maybe a jacket - it’s still a bit cool out.” She babbled, still gaping at Theo.

Theo held up a finger, stepping away from the door before Wanda could continue. She grabbed a thick sweater to cut the breeze, toed on some sneakers, and plopped a beanie over her hair, pausing in front of a mirror to make sure she didn’t look like a total mess.

Wanda practically bounced down the hall, constantly glancing back to check and make sure Theo hadn’t abandoned her. Theo trailed behind, listening to Wanda recount the construction of the rooftop lounge and how this was the first year they actually could use the space, and how excited they were to finally have a nice, private outdoor space to gather. At best, Theo half-listened along, her pulse quickening with every step closer to their destination. 

As they stepped out onto the rooftop, it actually seemed like the perfect night to enjoy a city skyline and a cold drink.

A fully stocked bar stood along the far end of the roof, while plenty of outdoor seating offered opportunities for everything from lounging around to enjoying a meal. The space even featured a fireplace table and heat lamps for cooler nights, which already had been turned on to cut the chill. True to the Stark aesthetic, all of the furniture came in muted tones and clean lines, sharing design language with the indoor common areas.

The other Avengers had settled in among a series of outdoor sectionals, some standing around the periphery while others gathered near the bar. As they drew closer, Theo realized that the company for the evening consisted of not only Avengers Tower residents, the Avengers who resided elsewhere…

Oh god, when Theo caved to Loki’s request, she had not expected it to play out like this; she thought it would be a movie night, or going out to dinner. Not everyone and their mother staring at her.

As if she sensed Theo’s nervousness, Wanda grabbed Theo’s hand and smiled at her, pulling her towards the larger group.

With every step, Theo braced herself for an icy reception, all the while building up the courage to put on a brave face. She met everyone once, that first day when she was announced as an Avenger - maybe twice, if she counted the briefing that she crashed - so at least there were no new faces.

Small blessings, she supposed.

Wanda didn’t go of Theo’s hand until they reached the edge of the group. It only took Wanda a moment to find Vision, standing behind one of the sectionals as he chatted with Shuri about something very science-y. Vision casually wrapped an arm around her, listening intently to Shuri, who gestured animatedly as she responded. 

Nearby, King T’Challa sat tall, dressed in a hybrid of western and African clothing with shoulders squared back as he conversed with Natasha about the United Nations and Wakanda. He spoke with a measured cadence that indicated he put great thought and intent into his words. On the opposite side of Natasha, Yelena slouched back in her seat, scrolling through her phone while laughing at something on screen. 

Not far from Yelena, Peter Parker told Tony about school and the latest device he was building. His enthusiasm struck Theo, and she caught herself smiling as she noticed the way Peter mirrored Shuri’s animated gestures, hands flailing wildly as he attempted to describe the contraption. Colonel Rhodes listened from the other side of Tony, with open posture and head tilted to the side, nodding along patiently… It was quite the contrast, especially next to the borderline manic tendencies of Tony and Peter’s unbridled enthusiasm. 

Nearby, Bruce spoke with Dr. Stephen Strange - a tall, thin man whose expression was entirely too serious and his posture uncomfortably rigid, which, if Theo thought about it, made sense for a former neurosurgeon. Sharon Carter chatted with Steve, Sam, and Bucky, laughter regularly erupting from the quartet; apparently, they were familiar with each other and had a lot to catch up on. 

Clint looked at home behind the bar with Scott Lang, snippets of conversation about their kids floating over the other conversations as they prepared drinks for everyone and brought them over to the group. 

Loki and Thor sat in deep discussion with the Valkyrie (or, as Loki often called her, Val) about something related to New Asgard; seeing a Valkyrie in a chunky sweater and Timbalands still threw Theo for a loop, but she knew that different people would adapt different aspects of life on Earth. 

Thor noticed Theo standing there, bewildered at the sight of everyone in one location.

“Lady Theo!” Thor exclaimed, standing to greet her. “Welcome to your first family night!”

Wait - did he just say family night?

Theo could practically hear the world screech to a halt as everyone fell silent, gaping at the new addition. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she froze in place, a veritable deer in the headlights.

“Brother—“ Loki hissed, rolling his eyes as he elbowed his brother. “Do not overwhelm her.”

“Uh… hi?” Theo cringed at how pathetic she sounded. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disrupt.”

“No apologies necessary - come, take a seat.“ Loki offered Theo a reassuring smile as he gestured for her to sit next to him. 

“Watch out, the prince is rescuing Rapunzel.” Tony teased, a smirk on his face as he raised a glass to her.

“Watch out everyone, Stark is jealous that a woman is not racing to offer herself up to him,” Loki retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

Raucous laughter came from Loki’s response; even Theo giggled as she sank into the cushions beside him. Loki, in turn, flashed a smirk and winked at her, before effortlessly folding Theo into the Asgardians’ conversation. Without needing to ask, Scott brought Theo an old fashioned, which caused a rush of gratitude to flood Theo’s veins.

The alcohol wouldn’t have much of an effect on her, but having something to occupy her hands with was always appreciated.

Likewise, the others returned to their conversations. Over time, topics shifted and incorporated other people, slowly snowballing as everyone tuned into the larger discussions.

At one natural lull in conversation, Loki went to refill his drink, leaving a vacant spot beside Theo in the process. He barely made it behind the bar when, with a whoop, Shuri leapt over the sectional and claimed the seat as her own. “Ha ha!” Shuri’s face was smug as she shimmied into the cushion, crossing one leg over the other as she stretched her arms along the back of the seat. “This will make a lovely throne.”

Despite the stutter of her heart from Shuri startling her, Theo couldn’t help but laugh when she caught T’Challa rolling his eyes at his sister.

“Excuse me, that was my seat!” Loki scowled, gesturing wildly to where he previously sat.

“Not anymore.” Shuri stuck her tongue out at him. “Besides, you speak to Theo all the time. It’s my turn.” 

The latter part of Shuri’s comment nearly made Theo choke on her drink - up until that point, hardly any attention was paid to Theo’s presence. Was that about to change?

“You are lucky I like you, princess,” Loki rolled his eyes, but let out a breathless laugh and shook his head. “Or else I might banish you to an alternate realm.” His threat lacked any teeth; if anything, it came off as a joke. He offered Theo a reassuring glance and the slightest nod, as if encouraging Theo to trust that Shuri wouldn’t make it weird.

Theo masked her nerves with a sip of her cocktail, allowing the notes of smoke and citrus to coat her tongue. 

If Shuri noticed the interaction, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she struck up a conversation about a funny tiktok trend that made her think of Theo, eventually morphing into a conversation about medical technology.

Seat stealing, however, was only the prelude to a series of hijinks during the evening.

It started innocently enough. A few drinks into the evening, Tony entertained the team with one of his tales about inventions gone wrong - this time, DUM-E had sprayed a visiting SHIELD agent with a fire extinguisher instead of the computer that actually caught on fire. 

While he rambled, Wanda glanced over and made eye contact with Theo. Wanda rolled her eyes before mouthing, “Want to see something fun?”

Theo nodded, curious to see what Wanda was going to do. 

A moment later, Tony reached forward to grab his drink and take a sip of it, only to stick his hand through the glass…

Where a nearly empty cocktail previously sat was nothing more than an illusion. 

Theo’s eyes darted to Wanda, who stood behind Tony sipping his drink. Theo had to bite back a laugh as Wanda grimaced and shook her head, not a fan of whatever Tony had in his lowball. 

“What the hell happened to my drink?” Tony whipped around, looking to see if someone had hidden it. His eyes settled on Loki, who glanced around at the others as he held his own drink, casually taking a swig. Either Loki hadn’t noticed, or he was really good at keeping a straight face. 

“Reindeer games, I swear to god-”

“I thought we’d moved past such childish accusations.” Loki cocked an eyebrow at him, unamused. 

“He didn’t move, Stark. Chill.” Bucky defended the Asgardian prince.

“Well someone took it, and it wasn’t Captain Stick-in-the-Mud.” Tony retorted, looking around the group. The glass vanished from Wanda’s hand before Tony could see it, presumably returning to the table where it started. 

“Okay guys, this isn’t funny,” Tony whined, completely oblivious to his beverage’s return to the table. 

To her left, Theo caught Loki taking a large drink of whatever was in his cup to stifle a laugh – he knew exactly what Wanda was up to. 

Just then, Tony turned back around to discover his drink in its original location. He groaned, slouching back in his seat. “Anyone who wants to turn in their cape for stand-up comedy, just let me know.”

As he returned to his story, Wanda winked at Theo before sending her a text message– “So we have a game during family time...” 

Theo stared at the screen for a moment before typing out a reply. “Which is…?”

Wanda’s face lit up as she read the message; a playful smile pulled across her lips as she typed out a reply. “How many pranks can we pull off before one of us starts laughing.”

Suddenly, a message from Loki popped up as well. “The only rule is that no one should be harmed. Otherwise, it’s fair game.”

Oh. Apparently Loki was playing along too.

Another message from Wanda came in: “You want in?”

Tempting, but with her reputation…

“Sounds fun, but not sure…” Theo responded, “I don’t know that the others trust me. Pranking them might make it worse.”

“If anything, they’ll believe I am the perpetrator,” Loki assured her via text message. “My affiliation with mischief and trickery lends itself to suspicion.”

Not only did Loki speak like he just read a thesaurus, but he even texted like it.

Theo stared at the screen for a moment, weighing her options. On one hand, she could stand to loosen up a little and have some fun. On the other hand, pranking someone could go over like a lead balloon if the prank didn’t land well; she needed to be confident that whoever she pranked would not be upset if she partook.

By then, Sam launched into a story about his last trip to see his sister and nephews in Louisiana. Bucky had tagged along, in part because the point of the trip was to fix up the Wilsons’ boat, and Sam knew he’d need an extra set of hands. A pigeon waddled about on the roof, only a few feet from where Sam sat. Sam, however, was oblivious to the bird’s presence; he was too busy mimicking how Bucky stole Sam’s tools to fix a leaky valve instead of simply using his vibranium arm.

After over a month of listening to Julie pine endlessly over Sam and his down to earth personality, ass of a national treasure, and good-natured sense of humor, Theo swore she knew more about Sam than she knew about her own cousin…

An idea sprung to Theo’s mind. She set her glass on the table, casually lowered her hands out of sight, and whispered an incantation. 

“How do you know vibranium would hold up to the steam?” The pigeon asked, cocking its head to the side as it waited for an answer.

Sam nearly leapt out of his seat as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Wait a minute, wait just a minute – please tell me you all just heard that.” Sam stared at the others as they all gawked at the pigeon. Theo, however, snatched her glass and took a sip of her old fashioned so she didn’t give herself away. “Did that bird just talk?”

“Falcon, I did not realize that your skill set included speaking to birds.” Loki answered without missing a beat. 

Theo nearly spit out her drink as she fought the urge to burst into laughter.  

“Hey, just because I’m called Falcon doesn’t mean I like birds.” Sam argued, a twinkle in his eye as he settled back into his chair. He must have known there was some magic at play; if Theo was lucky, he would not know whose magic created the illusion.

“I want some of whatever he’s drinking,” Theo pointed at Sam, pretending to be oblivious about the use of magic so she did not draw suspicion. “Because that must be some good shit.” 

“No,” Tony replied, “The good shit is the Asgardian stuff.” 

“That stuff will knock you on your ass unless you’re a god,” Sam agreed with a toothy grin and a nod. “Even the super soldiers get drunk on it.”

“Tony, I’m assuming you tried it?” Sharon asked, narrowing her eyes at the billionaire.

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, putting a hand on his chest, “I am a connoisseur - had to see if the hype was true.”

“Until you had the hangover from hell the next day.” Natasha pointed out, a smirk dancing on her lips while she crossed her arms.

“Please,” Tony retorted, “It barely holds a candle to the frat party from hell-”

“-in your second year at MIT.” Rhodes, Sam, and Steve answered simultaneously, all rolling their eyes.

Tony must have told that particular story a time or twenty before.

“Lady Theo,” Thor called from behind the bar. “I’m about to refill my beverage. Would you like to try some Asgardian ale?” 

Theo glanced over at Loki and raised her eyebrows at him, hoping he’d give her some sort of subtle cue about whether it was a good idea; he just smirked at her and winked. 

Not helpful at all.

Then again, the night had gone well up to that point…

“Sure, why not?” Theo replied with a short shrug of her shoulders. She assumed that he’d take a shot glass from the bar and put a little ale in the glass - it may fuck up a normal person, but that was probably only when consumed in large quantities. A small amount of the ale wouldn’t hurt, right?

What she didn’t expect was Thor to bring over a massive mug of ale, filled to the brim. 

“That’s alcohol poisoning about to happen,” Yelena cracked up as she saw the size of the mug. 

Nearby, the Valkyrie cackled. “Thor, remember that Midgardians can’t handle booze like you can.”

“My liver hurts just looking at that.” Bruce commented, letting out a nervous chuckle but shaking his head.

Well, whether she wanted to share or not, the Avengers were going to learn something new about Theo.

“Oh, that’s what healing magic is for. Healing your liver after alcohol damage.” Theo quipped, earning a surprised snort out of Tony. A surge of confidence rushed through her as she winked, glanced at the deep red, clear liquid, then took a drink.

Given the ale’s reputation, Theo expected it to taste like everclear - practically straight ethanol that burned when consumed. However, a delightful, complex blend of flavors - citrus, juniper, and caramel - coated her mouth. Only a hint of hoppy bitterness accompanied, but each flavor in the unlikely combination balanced the others surprisingly well.

Theo smiled and gave Thor a nod of approval. “That’s better than I expected,” she admitted before she took another drink. “I was expecting something that burned my mouth from the alcohol content, but this is downright pleasant.” 

“I bet you twenty bucks you can’t finish that.” Bucky challenged, a smirk spread across his features as he leaned back into his seat. 

Bucky had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“The bet is just that I can’t finish it? That’s boring. Of course I’m going to finish it.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Sitting up a bit taller, she puffed her chest out in defiance and drank a large swig of ale.

“The real bet would be if she doesn’t throw it up afterwards – just because it goes into her system doesn’t mean she won’t get sick from it.” Steve pointed out, “Not that I think this is a good idea, mind you.” 

Remarks like that were probably how Steve earned the nickname of “Captain Stick-in-the-Mud.” 

Theo whipped out her wallet, throwing a $20 bill down on the table. “Game on. $20 bet that I can drink this and keep it all down.”

Bucky reached across to shake Theo’s hand before putting in his own $20 bill. 

Shuri and Yelena whooped in support, pumping their fists in the air. Bruce sighed as he shook his head and rubbed his temples. Steve rolled his eyes, while Clint smirked and shot Scott a look of well, this should get interesting. Peter’s eyes widened, despite furrowing his brow - he looked like he was worried.

What a sweet, sweet summer child.

Theo took another sip of the ale, then spoke up. “We need some tunes playing. It’s too quiet up here.” 

“Oh! I have some new music we can listen to!” Wanda jumped at the opportunity to hook her phone up to the wireless speakers. “It’s a local band that Vision and I saw last week. Theo, I think you’d like them – they sounded kind of like the music your band played.”

It was hard to imagine Vision at a concert, standing there with relatively stiff posture as other people were grooving to the music… He must have really liked Wanda to let her bring him to concerts. Did he like the same music as her?

Did he even like music?

Did androids have likes and dislikes? Or feelings? How did that work?

That was a rabbit hole to go down another day.

What sounded like some generic indie-pop music started to float through the air, but it was pleasant enough to be good background music. 

Loki sent another message – this time solely to Theo. “Are you truly planning to drink the entire mug?” Theo looked up at him, his eyebrow cocked up with skepticism and his chin dipped as he made eye contact.

“Maybe I am.” Theo replied, smiling at him and winking as his phone buzzed. 

Asgard wasn’t the only realm with particularly strong alcohol, and despite Theo’s small size she was no lightweight.

The group resumed their casual chatter. Wanda, Theo, and Loki continued to cast illusions and mess with the team in subtle ways, oftentimes struggling to maintain a poker face as the rest of the team grew drunker and drunker, and as a result became much easier to mess with. 

Eventually, Thor regaled the team with one of his latest adventures off-planet, voice booming as he gestured grandly about some battle he fought in. As the story started to near its climax, Theo caught the way Loki’s hand moved quietly to his side and twitched as he cast a spell.  

Theo’s eyes darted around as she tried to figure out what changed – it wasn’t until she looked up at Thor that she found her answer: 

Loki transformed Thor’s mug so it was shaped like a giant penis… while Thor drank out of it.

Wanda, who stood beyond Thor’s line of sight, lost it, face beet red and shoulders bouncing as she doubled over in silent laughter.

From what Loki previously shared, Thor reveled in sharing stories where he prevailed as the savior of the day. With that in mind, the choice to make Thor look absolutely ridiculous as he drunkenly extolled his heroism seemed like it was as much a jab at his self-importance as it was just plain old hilarious. Theo hadn’t taken Loki to be one for juvenile humor, but she had to hand it to him – it was well-played.

Even better, Thor didn’t even notice the change – he set the mug down on the table as he continued his story, and later on picked it up to take a swig to wet his throat. 

It didn’t take long before the others started to notice the mug’s new shape. The Valkyrie looked like she about to keel over; her shoulders shook so hard from silent laughter that if Thor turned around he’d know something was off. Natasha had to bite her finger to stop herself from breaking into laughter. Steve and Peter shared wide-eye, startled expressions, leaning away from Thor… who still hadn’t noticed.

The more time that passed without Thor noticing, the funnier the spectacle became.

Finally, Sam finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wow Thor, you’re really swallowing that ale like a champ.”

Tony choked, then spat out his drink while the people around him recoiled from the spray. Steve turned downright crimson with secondhand embarrassment, hiding his face behind his hands. 

“Yeah, you’re really gripping the shaft of the mug like it’s your job.” Bucky added, trying and failing to keep a straight face as Thor looked over at Tony and Steve, confused.

Theo’s eyes watered from trying not to laugh, and her jaw hurt from the muscle tension involved with maintaining her poker face.

“Dammit, I’m biting my tongue so hard to stop from laughing that it’s bleeding.” Wanda’s message popped up in the group chat, while Loki still effortlessly maintained a completely straight poker face and relaxed posture. 

“I thought you were a bit too high-brow for a good dick joke…” Theo added, fingers tapping the screen furiously as she replied.

“I know not of what you speak,” Loki answered innocently; he glanced over at Theo and winked, then followed his message with an eggplant emoji. 

Wanda nearly spit out her drink when she got that message.

Thor finally put two-and-two together as he looked down at his mug, then glared at his brother; however, he was laughing despite the glare, giant shoulders bouncing up and down. “Why must you taunt me so?”

“I hold no responsibility for this madness!” Loki protested, though the sparkle in his eyes told Theo that Loki knew he wasn’t going to convince them otherwise. “God of mischief I may be, but I’m hardly the only capable sorcerer on this team.”

“Well Theo’s been too busy downing some Asgardian ale,” Bucky commented, “And Wanda… Wait a minute. Wanda?”

They all turned to look at Wanda, who gave a deer-in-the-headlights expression as she pretended to be horrified. “The fact that you could imagine me doing this is mildly offensive,” she exclaimed, silently glaring at Loki. “Besides, Strange can cast spells too.”

Everyone looked over at Dr. Strange; one unamused eyebrow raise was enough to dispel any thoughts that he’d been the one behind it.

“Let’s be real – Reindeer games would be the one to make that joke.” Tony pointed out, “Which… well played, I’ve gotta say. Not much makes me spit out my drink like that.”

Loki smirked, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “You need to raise your standards, Stark.”

Steve, who was still mostly sober and desperate for a change of topic, looked back at Theo and noticed her nearly empty mug. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about finishing the ale.”

In turn, Theo downed the remaining ale and placed the mug on the table. “Yeah – It was good. But I’ve gotta say, for all the talk about how it will get me drunk, I still feel pretty sober. Are you sure you weren’t messing with me? This isn’t some fraternity-style hazing thing to bring a new team member on board?”

“No, my lady,” Thor confirmed, “That was genuine Asgardian ale. I must say, I’m impressed.”

Theo cast a glance over to Loki before sending a text. “You didn’t mess with this, did you?”

“I would never deny someone the opportunity to get drunk.” Loki looked dead serious as he sent the message, so she took his word for it.

“Well shit,” Bucky replied, his words slurring ever-so-slightly from his own alcohol consumption. “How about double or nothing – we each drink a mug of ale, and whoever is more sober at the end of the night gets $40.”

Steve tried to cut in. “Bucky, no –“

Bucky, yes.

“Deal.” Theo shook his hand again, confident that she was about to become $40 richer. Not only was Bucky already more drunk than her, but the Asgardian ale would only exacerbate the difference in their sobriety levels. 

He probably wouldn’t end up with alcohol poisoning, so it’d be fine. Maybe a hangover, but not alcohol poisoning.

“Now here’s the thing -” Bucky began, “- Before your mug can be refilled, you have to do the Asgardian call for another drink.” 

“Which is…?” Theo arched a wary eyebrow, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

With perfect timing, Thor finished his beverage and demonstrated by throwing his mug down on the ground, shouting “ANOTHER!” as the glass smashed against the concrete and shattered into a million pieces.

Theo gasped and nearly flew out of her seat from the noise, heart pounding in her chest. She looked at the glistening fragments of glass, then up at Thor, then back down at the glass.

.  

Thor failed to stifle his laughter as Loki rolled his eyes in the background; with a flick of his wrist, the shards of glass vanished in a flash of emerald light. 

“Yeah that’s going to be a hard pass from me, dude.” Theo shook her head, stood up and walked over to the bar to refill mug. While she was behind the bar, she also pulled out a fresh mug for Bucky.

“Oh no, you don’t get to pour – we need someone neutral to do it, so we know it hasn’t been messed with!” Bucky called out, shaking his head at her as he moved to join her at the bar.

“Well I can certainly be the judge of that.” Loki volunteered, his voice a cool contrast to the rambunctious shouting and cheering that echoed from the rooftop.

“You’re really letting loose tonight,” Loki’s message appeared on Theo’s phone. “It’s nice to see you relax a bit.” Theo blushed and cracked a sheepish smile.

Loki strolled behind the bar, took both mugs and filled them up. Once satisfied that each mug contained the same amount of ale, he handed one mug to Bucky and the other to Theo. He then filled a mug of his own before returning to the rest of the group.

“As the judge, I reserve all right to document any embarrassing moments for blackmail in the future.” Loki told everyone quite seriously.  Shuri cracked up and added that if Loki didn’t capture the evidence, she certainly would, and with how the Princess of Wakanda held her phone at the ready, Theo fully believed her.. Theo returned to her seat, noticing Shuri had saved her place; Bucky trailed close behind.

“You say that like I’m going to do something embarrassing.” Theo teased, holding her mug up to Bucky and Loki as if to suggest a toast. “To Bucky making one of the dumbest bets he’ll ever make.” 

“To the new girl finally gracing us with her presence,” Bucky replied with a wide grin, “and not realizing she’s about to lose the bet!” 

The rest of the group held up their glasses and clinked them together, after which Bucky managed to drain about a quarter of his mug in one swift drink. 

“I didn’t realize this was a chugging contest.” Bruce commented with a nervous laugh as Bucky set his mug down.

Theo, recognizing that rapid alcohol consumption would not help Bucky in the bet, snickered. “You can’t enjoy it if you chug it, you know that right?”

Bucky offered a coy grin in response, his cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in his veins.

He really had no idea what he was in for.

And I feel alright (Feel alright) Yeah I feel alright, Alright… I let go This is something spiritual When I say so Give me life, give me love Leveled up on a higher dose No sorrow (baby this is chemical) Hit just like an antidote (can’t come down, down) Adios (give me, yeah give me) Give me life, give me love  Leveled up on a higher dose

This was certainly a different side to Theo than Loki had ever seen.

Her guard wasn’t up in the same way it was at Stark’s party, nor was she silent and reserved, as if it were a mission briefing or meeting. The relaxed, easygoing demeanor that Loki eventually uncovered after multiple interactions made its debut amongst the others, and for the first time since the infamous briefing, it seemed like Theo wasn’t afraid to be the center of attention.

In truth, Theo’s decision to join in the evening’s activities surprised Loki. Though Theo agreed to stop declining the invitations from Maximoff, Loki had expected that this would not be the occasion which Theo relented, as the large group could be rather intimidating. Instead, he anticipated that Theo would wait until she could verify that it would be a small gathering with ample opportunities to depart, should she grow uncomfortable.

Instead, the sight of Theo trailing behind Maximoff as they crossed the rooftop brought the first of many pleasant surprises in the evening. If the expression Theo wore when Thor addressed her provided any indication, Theo had not anticipated such a robust gathering, and for a moment Loki feared she might teleport away from the immense attention suddenly focused on her.

Luckily, that had not been the case. From time to time, Loki caught Theo glancing towards him with a silent question in her eyes, usually as if trying to assess the situation, but as the evening wore on the questioning glances decreased, replaced by smirks and thinly veiled attempts to refrain from laughing at the others. 

Perhaps the greatest surprise in the evening came when Theo agreed to not only try some Asgardian ale, but challenge Barnes to what one might consider a drinking contest with the aforementioned ale. Given Barnes held two significant advantages - his substantially larger size and the physiological changes from the super-soldier serum - the odds seemed stacked against the sorceress. If anything, Loki suspected that hubris fueled Theo’s decision.

However, he was far too curious about the outcome to consider intervening unless things turned sour, and up to that point he saw no cause for concern. Theo seemed fine, continuing to engage in conversation while working through her beverage. Occasionally, Loki caught himself staring at Theo’s petite hands, her dainty fingers wrapped around the massive mug of ale. If he could be honest with himself, The juxtaposition was rather adorable.

Barnes, unsurprisingly, was the first to finish his ale. Theo, however, was not far behind.

“I have a proposition.” Banner spoke up, looking between the empty mugs with a twinkle in his eye. “I think we should give these two a field sobriety test and see who is more sober… For science, of course.”

Loki, unfamiliar with the test Banner mentioned, hesitated. “And what exactly does a Midgardian sobriety test entail?” 

“Oh, it’s easy.” Theo assured him, standing up and stretching both arms overhead. “You just answer some questions and do some basic tasks, like walking in a straight line and balancing on one foot for a while.”

Loki studied Theo with some doubt; when she didn’t notice, he messaged her. “Are you certain it will be so simple?”

Theo typed and sent her reply without even looking at her mobile’s screen. “Bucky’s about to get destroyed.”

Barnes swayed the moment he stood up, nearly tripping over his own feet as he made his way towards the area where they set up the test. He hadn’t even walked half of the line marked out before it became clear as crystal that Barnes was utterly toasted.

Theo, meanwhile, seemed only lightly buzzed. She easily completed the straight line test… while walking on her hands. 

“A woman after my own heart,” Romanoff laughed, clapping as Theo finished the test. “It’s not often we have team members who are able to move like that.”

“Girl, you’ve gotta teach me how to do that,” Shuri exclaimed, “That’s dope as hell!”

Theo gracefully returned to her feet, pausing for just a moment to adjust her clothes before she feigned a curtsy and smirked at Barnes, who simply groaned from where he sat.

From what little Loki knew of Theo’s background, the ability to walk on her hands came as no surprise - she had formal training in acrobatic maneuvers, and her goaltending demonstration highlighted her agility. Yet, she did not seem like the sort who would walk on her hands for fun… Though from what he had seen, she certainly was the sort of person who would do so to prove a point. Quite frankly, It was the kind of thing that Loki might do if he were in her position.

All things considered, it seemed like Theo might share Loki’s penchant for mischief and trickery.

“Normally gods are the only ones who don't get knocked on their ass by Asgardian ale.” Stark commented, brow furrowed and eyes narrow as he studied Theo. 

“Asgard isn’t the only place with abnormally strong liquor,” Theo casually explained, shaking out her shoulders and stretching her neck. “There really are some places with nothing better to do than drown your sorrows!” 

Loki couldn’t help but laugh at her comment, though the choice of words piqued his curiosity. Of course there was the realm she refused to speak of, yet it sounded as if Theo referred to more than one location. Had she visited other realms as well?

Surely, she was exaggerating.

“You’re talking about Michigan, right?” Stark teased.

“No, I’m talking about spending time with you.” Theo deadpanned, winning a lively round of jeers and laughter of the group.

Not done showing off, Theo proceeded to balance on one foot for five minutes while casually discussing the merits of different types of alcohol that she’d encountered and how the Midgardian body metabolized alcohol, far longer than the 30 seconds that were required for a field sobriety test (at least, according to Doctor Banner). Gesturing vivaciously as she spoke, Theo’s eyes lit up with amusement as the others laughed along with her commentary.

As someone who was an expert at embellishing stories, Loki could tell when Theo added flourishes or exaggerated details. However, any talented storyteller understood that the best tales required a bit of panache, and Theo was no exception. While the others may not have noticed, to Loki, it was painfully obvious that Theo knew she was putting on a show. 

“Okay, I think at this point there’s a pretty clear winner.” Rhodes snickered as Barnes laid down on a sofa, complaining about the way the world spun..

Theo happily took the $40 that Barnes previously threw down on the table, smirking as she dramatically tucked it into her wallet.

“Is anyone hungry? I could go for some pizza right about now.” Maximoff asked, looking around at the others.

“FRI, you heard the lady!” Stark lifted his head as he spoke up to no one in particular. “Well… I was actually thinking we could go out for pizza?” Maximoff suggested, shrugging her shoulders as she pointed behind herself towards the elevator.

Frankly, after such lively conversation and company, Loki was nowhere near ready to turn in for the night… Even if “going out” was not his preferred activity, perhaps it was worth accompanying the others on their venture.

“As much as I’d love to, I should probably make sure Bucky gets to bed in one piece.” Rogers replied, his point amplified by Barnes’ unintelligible grumbles.

“Yeah, it’s getting late –” Banner glanced at his watch before he stood up. “I’m ready to call it a night.” 

“I’d join you.” Loki nodded at Maximoff, lightly shrugging his shoulders. 

“Pizza sounds like fun.” Belova pushed herself up from her seat. “I’d go.”

“I’m down!” Shuri added, stretching as she rose to her feed. 

Theo had yet to respond, eyes darting between the others as they responded. She didn’t seem tired, but experience indicated she would not opt-in unless clearly invited to attend 

“The night is young – why not enjoy some excellent company for a little longer?” Turning to Theo, Loki offered a wry smile as he offered a hand to help her up. “Would you care to join? I suspect Maximoff would even let you select the pizza place…” He shot a knowing glance to Maximoff, who grinned and nodded.

“Sure, I suppose I can come along.” Theo perked up, mirroring Loki’s smile as she accepted the gesture, and allowed Loki to pull her to her feet. “I’m not sure what my options are for pizza around here, so I would defer to someone else to choose.”

Loki felt a bit of heat creep up on his cheeks - he ought to have remembered that Theo only recently became a resident of Midtown, so her knowledge of local eateries would be limited at best.

“Oh, there’s lots of great options nearby!” Parker exclaimed, bouncing up from his seat. “My favorite is–”

“She didn’t tell you to pick a place,” Shuri held a hand out to stop him as she smirked.

Parker replied with a pout, crossing his arms to make a point.

“If you tell me what place you want to go to, I’ll suggest it,” Theo winked at the spiderling.

“That’s not how this works!” Shuri protested, turning to Theo and covering her heart with mock offense.

“Okay, okay,” Theo held up her hands, laughing as she shook her head. “Wanda, pick a place since you wanted pizza and I have no idea what’s good around here.”

“I can do that - Vis, you coming?” Maximoff beamed at Vision, reaching for his hand.

“I shall accompany you.”

And off they went, in search of pizza.

Mic check  - say hi to LoLo Goodbye to normal Welcome to your mad world Where you can forget  About your boredom From this day forward Well I will give you love on every level

If anyone had asked Theo that morning how she expected her evening to go, drinking a supersoldier under the table and then going out for pizza at one in the morning with some of the Avengers would not have come to mind. Yet, in another edition of “my life is stranger than fiction,” that was exactly how Theo’s night played out.

The pizza place Wanda recommended was fairly close to Avengers tower - down an alleyway and through a side door, the restaurant sat tucked in the basement of a bar that Theo recognized because she played a couple shows there a while ago.. 

When they first walked in, the atmosphere practically screamed “hole in the wall.” The lights were kept low - low enough that it was easy to hide the dirt permanently coated on the floors. The smell of cheese and cheap beer lingered in the air. Even at the late hour, the place was packed. Perhaps the low light was to their advantage - no one seemed to notice the group of superheroes as they made their entrance, which was a relief. It took Theo back to the midnight hours in Durham. Her friends drunkenly crowded into booths for food after spending the night getting guys to buy out the bar for them. Theo had to play along in those days in order to hide her magic and its effects on her body - however, the lack of drunkenness meant she was still able to recall the exact way the place felt. And this… this felt all too familiar. 

When they found an empty booth, they wasted no time claiming it as their own, even if it meant they had to squish together so everyone fit. With the way they packed themselves together, Theo couldn’t help but notice Loki’s body against hers, steady and firm without encroaching on her personal space. Loki may have been her first friend among the Avengers, but that didn’t mean they were ever quite so close. From Theo’s observations, Loki seemed like he avoided physical contact whenever possible, recoiling from Thor’s touch and carefully distancing himself when anyone else drew near. Really, Theo couldn’t remember ever having made any physical contact with him that wasn’t an accidental brush of the hands when they handed items to each other. 

Despite feeling a bit thrown off by the touch, she wasn’t uncomfortable… If anything, it was actually kind of nice. 

Not that she was going to say anything, because that would absolutely make it weird. 

The effortless, lighthearted conversation that started on the rooftop continued the moment they sat down, even as everyone made quick work of the first round of drinks and the pizza, continuing to the extent that it wasn’t long before they ordered another round of drinks. 

After the waitress delivered the second round of drinks, Wanda swallowed the bite of pizza she had been chewing, then spoke up. 

“Thank you.” Wanda paused, considering her words. “For coming out tonight, that is. This has been fun.” She beamed at Theo. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor. The pigeon was well played.”

Theo blushed, biting back a smile. “Thanks for letting me in on the fun… though I have to say, I think Loki took the trophy home for best prank of the night.”

This time Loki didn’t try to deny it, grinning with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “It is important to remind my brother to stay humble… ‘Tis best to not allow his ego to overtake him. Do you agree?”

Theo let out a laugh, just barely tinged with melancholy as she thought about her sister. “That is part of a sibling’s job description, isn’t it?”

“Am I remembering correctly that you have a sister?” Vision asked Theo. “I recall mention of a sibling in your file, though you’ve not spoken much on the matter.”

Theo flinched, though the motion was barely perceptible. Loki’s eyes flickered over at her - he must have still noticed. 

“I do… but she’s presumed dead, like my parents. We got separated when we ended up in the other realm” Theo shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage, but the way the expressions in the group softened told her that they picked up on her discomfort around the topic. “My Mémère – err, my Grandma – raised me after that, and she raised my younger cousin, Max; he’s practically my younger brother.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous; family is a complicated subject for pretty much everyone on the team.” Wanda assured her.

Theo flashed a thin, yet grateful smile. “Yeah, I gathered that was practically a prerequisite for joining the Avengers.”

Loki snorted at her comment.

Wanda took the opportunity to change the topic, launching into the recap of the last band that she saw in this particular place. Apparently this was one of her favorite spots to go when she wanted to blend in and have some fun, especially since the poor lighting made it hard to be recognized. 

As Wanda spoke, Theo noticed a young couple making out next to a jukebox and couldn’t help but smile at the sight – they may have assumed that the poor lighting obscured them from view, but their affection was sweet. Another wave of nostalgia from her days in Durham washed over Theo.

It occurred to her that everyone in the booth had lived vastly different lives from her own: a literal princess sat next to a kid who grew up in Queens; an orphan sat next to an android, who sat across from a frost giant/literal god, and on Theo’s opposite side was someone who trained to be a spy since before she could walk. However, Theo didn’t feel like a fish out of water. On the contrary, she actually felt like she belonged there, sitting in this cramped booth with six other people who knew what it was like to be different. And the best part was, she didn’t even have to hide what made her unique.

Her heart warmed at the thought.

By the time they finally left the pizza place, it was nearing three in the morning – the sun would rise in a few hours, however Theo was still wide awake. Wanda must have sensed that Theo was still ready for an adventure because she paused outside, looking in the direction opposite the tower.

“So where are we going now?” Theo inquired, looking between the others. 

“Given you have a high alcohol tolerance, I think we should do some bar hopping,” Wanda offered, “This is New York, after all, the city that never sleeps. We might as well make it a proper night out!”

“The princess is out of her tower and there are some fine establishments nearby.” Loki added, a smug expression curling over his lips as he crossed his arms. Shuri cracked up, entirely aware that Loki was referring to Theo and not to her.

“I don’t know why you’re calling me a princess when we have a literal princess with us.” Theo offered a playful scoff in response to his joke, pointing at Shuri. 

“The literal princess had a great time, but she’s gotta go back to Oakland tomorrow.” Shuri smirked and took a bow. “So I’ve gotta call it a night.”

“Yeah, I have a biology exam I need to study for tomorrow, so I should get some sleep.” Peter agreed.

“I head out for a mission bright and early,” Yelena sighed, “So I should probably go too.”

“They may be ditching us, but I’m down to go check out the bars,” Theo offered. “But I hope you don’t make the same mistake Bucky did - that might not go as well, since you aren’t a super soldier.”

Wanda laughed freely, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh no, I’m not about to try and match you drink for drink. Consider this our way of giving you a tour of the neighborhood!”

Vision, of course, was also fine with bar hopping; as long as Wanda was there it seemed like he would be happy. 

After bidding goodnight to Shuri, Peter, and Yelena, the remaining four Avengers departed for the first bar. The cover of night provided protection from the stares that Theo expected to get walking down the street, though it was likely helped by the decrease in people out and about at the odd hour. 

The quartet moved between local bars seamlessly. The sight of the Avengers didn’t draw the looks Theo would have expected most celebrities to draw - the other three, apparently, were regulars. They chatted with other customers and joked around with the bartenders, always making a point to casually slip an introduction to Theo in the mix without making it awkward. More often than not, the other customers would buy a round of drinks for the group as a way of welcoming Theo to the team, and before Theo could respond either Loki or Wanda would accept on her behalf.

If Theo didn’t know better, Loki and Wanda were on a mission to see just how much alcohol it took to get Theo drunk; frankly, as long as Theo wasn’t the one footing the bill, she didn’t mind the opportunity to loosen up a bit.

As the sun crept over the horizon, Theo felt the warm buzz that came with mild inebriation, having consumed enough alcohol to finally overcome her obnoxious tolerance. 

Loki had a slight flush to his cheeks and a hint of glassiness in his eyes – there was no way that he could become intoxicated from what a human would drink alone, but between the Asgardian ale he consumed earlier and the other drinks, he seemed more relaxed than usual. Up until that point, Theo noticed that even when relaxed, Loki always had this air of being immensely composed, but that night it seemed like he let some of that properness fall away and let his guard drop ever-so-slightly.

In contrast, Wanda was comfortably drunk, allowing herself to hiccup and giggle freely while slurring some of her words. Not messy drunk by any means, thanks to Loki and Vision switching out some of her drinks for Shirley Temples when Wanda wasn’t looking (given how easily they managed the feat, Theo guessed it wasn’t the first time they had swapped her drinks so she didn’t get sick). 

Vision was the only one who was sober, but that had to be a normal occurrence… Not shockingly, it was impossible for an artificial intelligence system to process alcohol. Theo found it odd to watch Vision eat and drink like a normal person, since he didn’t actually digest food and that he didn’t even need to eat to function. The sight was even more jarring when he camouflaged himself to appear like a person and not an android, which he did anytime he ventured into public. 

Still, it wasn’t the weirdest thing Theo had ever seen…

With the sun peeking over the horizon, bringing with it the impending arrival of the morning, the group agreed it was time to return to the tower. While there was nothing on their agenda for the day that they had to prepare for, by that time everyone had been awake long enough that they were more than ready for bed. Vision and Wanda led the way, Vision wrapping his arm around Wanda to help her stay steady as she giggled and cooed endlessly at him, utterly lovestruck each time she looked at her partner. 

Behind them, Loki and Theo strolled beside each other in comfortable silence. As they moved, Theo discreetly observed Loki. His normally upright, regal posture had softened. His eyes gazed out into the distance, though it didn’t seem like they had a fixed point of interest. He kept his hands in his pockets, and his expression reserved - just the slightest hint of knitted brows adorned his expression.

The man beside her was different from the Loki that Theo first met, or the Loki she saw earlier in the evening – the sharp, charismatic, and sarcastic prince was replaced by a much quieter, introspective man. Even with the faint warmth of the alcohol in Theo’s system, she could sense storms swirling in his mind that were locked away from public view. She couldn’t help but wonder how often he allowed that side of him to show.

When they arrived at the tower and made their way up to the residential floors, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way that Loki held the elevator door for her, and how he placed his hand on the small of her back as she passed by. It must have been the way that Loki was raised that made him do those things - as a prince, he must have been taught these types of gestures as a part of proper etiquette - but the feeling of his touch lingered long after his hand left her back.

No one else was around, which meant that it was either too early for the others to be up, or those who were already awake were off doing something else. Those moments of stillness were rare in the tower, and after a long but fun night out, Theo was grateful for the peace and quiet. Up ahead, Wanda giggled and squealed as Vision patiently coaxed her towards their suite. It didn’t take long for them to disappear behind the door, leaving Loki and Theo to themselves. The pair’s comfortable silence continued as they made their way down the hall, pausing outside the door to Theo’s suite.

“This was a lot of fun,” Theo commented to Loki, a shy smile on her lips as she took hold of the door handle, but refrained from opening the door.

“Indeed,” he nodded, sticking his hands back in his pockets and shifting his weight back onto his heels as he gave her a nervous smile. “I’m glad you’ve come out of your shell a bit more – it is nice to spend time with you.” 

They both stood there, biting back smiles as they looked into each other’s eyes. In the peace of the tower and the sun rising, there was almost a special sort of peace that fell between them - a moment frozen in time.

Eventually though, that moment had to end.

Theo cleared her throat, a rising heat now present on her cheeks. “Well, I should probably…” Theo trailed off, gesturing that she was going to head inside. “Uh, good night Loki.”

“Right,” Loki blushed, looking away as he dipped his head. “Good night Theo.” 

Theo found herself reflecting on the night as she got ready for bed. Yes, Loki, the little bastard was right - the Avengers, for all their initial assumptions and hesitations, genuinely did want to be her friend.

And despite every reason why Theo shouldn’t want to, at the end of the day… She wanted to be their friend too. 

I let go (I let go) This is something spiritual (something spiritual) A vibrant soul (a vibrant soul) Give me life, give me love Got me hooked on a higher dose No sorrow (baby this is chemical) Hit just like an antidote (can’t come down, down) Adios (give me, yeah give me) Give me life, give me love  Leveled up on a higher dose

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki x oc #loki x ofc #when everything's made to be broken #wemtbb #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #slow burn #fluff #friends to lovers #marvel #mcu #brodinsons #wanda maximoff #thor #mcu thor

[obscure-skirmish]

Woe, bracket be upon ye

Listing them all under the cut from top to bottom. Also tourney starts tomorrow!

Steel Samurai (Ace Attorney)

Jammin' Ninja (Ace Attorney)

Loch & Ness (An Unauthorized Fan Treatise)

Together with Maman (Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan)

Mew Mew Kissy Cutie (Undertale)

Good Guys (Child's Play)

Jupiter Jim (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Stab (Scream)

DoReMiFa Beat (Kamen Rider Ex-Aid)

Crying Breakfast Friends (Steven Universe)

The Itchy & Scratchy Show (The Simpsons)

Reptar (Rugrats)

Moffun to Issho (Ohsama Sentai King Ohger)

Donshine (Ultraman Geed)

Oh! That's a Baseball! (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders)

Inscryption (Inscryption)

Good Witch Azura (The Owl House)

Dairy Farm Card Game (ProZD Skits)

Knights of the Round (A3!)

The Murder at Haversham Manor (The Play That Goes Wrong)

Pink Dark Boy (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable)

Midnight Crew (Homestuck)

Bug Rangers (Bug Fables)

Featherman (Persona Series)

Ducktective (Gravity Falls)

Funyarinpa (Zero Escape)

Sumo Slammers (Ben 10)

Pretty Princess (Wordgirl)

Squiddles (Homestuck (again))

Teen Girl Squad (Homestar Runner)

Daring Do (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint)

#fiction in fiction #bracket #i ain't tagging all that #some of these might not fit but it's fine it's funny #yes i am aware homestuck is here twice #it's funny

[paradox-n-bedrock]

Hey! I saw throughout some of your tags that you got to see both Macbeth and The Enfield Haunting! (to which I'm insanely jealous, please hand over your memories to me at your earliest convenience!) What did you think of them??

Oh hi!!

The Enfield Haunting was enjoyable. Reviews for it have been overly harsh, for the most part, and I think part of that might be the genre bias horror often faces. The dialogue is clunky, particularly in the beginning, but I can say it's a fun show if you're a Conjuring, Enfield Poltergeist, or general haunted history fan. It presents the supernatural influence vs troubled children aspect in a balanced way, as is necessary for this plot. It also builds tension rather effectively once it gets going, while letting Catherine punctuate it with moments of lightness and her usual impeccable timing. There are some really good parts where a theme seemed to come together of this overwhelmed woman dealing with a rotating cycle of overbearing men (invasive investigators, infatuated neighbor, disrespectful ex-husband, and the poltergeist, of course) making nuisances of themselves in her home while she's just trying to push through each day without losing herself or her children to their collective unhappiness. If the theme had carried through more cohesively, it would have been a strong play. Unfortunately, I was left yearning for a bit more of that story, as it gets messy and lost maybe two thirds of the way though when the focus shifts to the investigator. But mainly, Catherine is so, so talented. She carries the whole thing on her back, with some help from the young actress who plays a very creepy Janet. It's hard to take your eyes off of her as Peggy, even when she's harried and anxious or reacting in furious silence to the action happening on the other side of the stage. She just... draws your gaze. And when she steels her spine to stand up for her family and her space, she's positively luminous. Plus there's an unexpected delight in a couple of scenes where Catherine sings Only Wanna Be With You--very sweetly, just a bar or two--and my heart felt like it was going to fucking burst. Hello, her voice... I need her to do another musical, preferably one we get a soundtrack to.

And she's so kind at the stage door. It was a two show day and she had a con the next morning but she still took the time to speak to every single person that was waiting there.

__

Macbeth, I wasn't carrying even the slightest hope of seeing but then I was able to get a standing ticket in my cart while on the flight there (though I had to let it go) and realized my years of stalking concert presales were about to come in handy. Ironically, my partner was the one who did snag the tickets two days later. I... actually ended up with a first row seat, though she was in the standing section. But that's just me rambling about the process because I still can't believe it worked out the way it did.

I'm not even sure what to say about the show itself. The whole cast is phenomenal. The production is conceptually very cool. The audio tricks they play with the witches--via a headset for each audience member and the eerie sense of movement and foreboding conveyed by bilateral audio--plus the starkness of the empty white stage and simple dark costuming just work. The contrast of the blood when David is centerstage, distressed and panting as he washes it away, feels poignant rather than pretentious. He's captivating the whole way through, but especially then, when he temporarily strips away the ambition along with his stained clothes to reveal the broken and guilty thing underneath. There's nothing like how DT delivers Shakespeare--the meaning flows out of him as naturally as the words themselves and it's incredibly approachable without losing any of its gravitas. The dynamic between the leads is atypical in a really lovely way. David's Macbeth and Cush's Lady Macbeth come across more like codependent partners and ruthless accomplices than a greedy but hesitant royal and his calculating wife egging him on. He looks to her for support rather than a push to kill Duncan, and the adoration between them is palpable, even as they each deteriorate in their own ways. I walked out of this show feeling so deeply affected, it was like a religious experience.

(Macbeth also feels very gender, which shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who's a fan of DT's Benedict, though this is obviously in a very different way. As does Malcolm, played by Ros Watt--who's non-binary--and Ross, played by Moyo Akandé. I adore the whole cast, honestly.)

#the enfield haunting #catherine tate #macbeth #david tennant #david tennant macbeth #oh my gosh thank you for asking #i never would have wrote this up without the incentive #hopefully it's not too obnoxious #i felt like i started to channel my college newspaper art review days #as short lived as they were #asks #shakespeare #theatre

[signoraviolettavalery]

About the whole vampire Bojan stuff

A friend of mine (who's not a JO fan, I just dragged her in this abyss with me so I can fangirl and simp with a friend) and I were thinking about this whole thing and...

...what if there's some kind of mate thing for vampires? And their mate can be any person, creature or human.

Recently I've read the A discovery of Witches trilogy by Deborah Harkness and there vampires "mate for life". They can fall in love many times and have multiple relationships, but they mate only once in their life. And the bond with their mate is so strong that they get so protective and they can become really aggressive and not think straight.

We imagined Bojan being obsessed with his mate, their scent can calm him down but at the same time he just wants to make their mate his and drink their blood. On the other hand, the person (a human, in our case) feels the bond with Bojan, and they get obsessed too, but in a "crazier" way, so they sometimes can't even control themselves in the presence of the vampire they are mated with, like they are hypnotized of kind of compelled (TVD style), even tho the vampire did nothing to them (I hope it makes sense).

Oh, I know all about all sorts of vampire mating things, I watched both A Discovery of Witches and The Vampire Diaries! Those are absolutely delicious premises.

I haven't talked about them much because I don't really 'ship' Bojan with anyone and can't imagine who would be on the receiving end of this sort of mating. But if I were to hypothetically imagine it (maybe it can also be a sort of platonic thing? Or if you want to imagine it with Kaarija or one of his bandmates?) it could lend itself to sooo much deliciousness. The obsessiveness and cravings, even more powerful than usual (I assume he finds the smell/taste of his bandmates especially appealing), so that even though he knows how to deal with them generally, this is especially hard. The way it becomes difficult to control himself around them, and if there's one thing we know about Bojan it's that he's disciplined and with a willpower of steel, and he finds himself continually having to exercise it and resist.

And protective Bojan...well, I think we've covered that before. I think he's a protective sort of person in general when it comes to loved ones, and even more so as a vampire. But over a mate? He'd go absolutely feral.

#vampire!bojan #except now we know he knows about tumblr #so I sincerely hope he does not find out about this lmao

[team-mythic-beasts]

Team Mythic Beasts: Let’s Talk Designs!

Also Included: (Updated) Birthdays, Ages, MBTI, Heights

(Note: Special thanks to @levijonescc, creator of the Aveyond 4 x Hetalia mod, for inspiring this project; without you we may not be here today. Btw I suck at drawing humanoid characters so I used this base)

It took me almost seven years to finalize the boys’ designs, but here they are!

Besides the pictures, I’ve also invited them here to explain the thought process behind their outfits. They will go in order of color, so this time we’re starting off with… Jones!

❤️ The Wolf- Jones Fitzgerald

(Apr 25 ♉️ | 29 y/o | INTJ | 177cm / 5’9”)

It’s only fair that the best-looking guy in the bunch gets the first word… so why does Luke keep getting all the spotlight? I’m supposed to be the main character!

Anyways, hope you aren’t too scared from all the spikes and flame patterns that I wear. Intimidation is a huge factor in designing a villain outfit, and I take great pride in being called scary. The flames are for another reason too— I’m a fire mage, and those who cross me shall beware the heat.

The cape was a reward from a quest I took up long ago. I saved a village from a demonic wolf, and they gave me some of her fur to wear as a trophy. In a way, it’s a reminder not to let my beloved Hiro go down the same path as his mother… but I do look quite big with the cape, don’t you think?

Even without my armor, cape, and giant coat, I still look like I’m onto some villain-y business, with the vest and jewel… Wait, what do you mean “yeehaw,” Makoto?! I’m not a cowboy!

🧡 The Dragon- Ludovic Brant

(He forgot 😢 | 70+ y/o (physically 25) | ISTJ | 200cm / 6’6”)

… Hello there. I did not expect such a quick debut.

As you can likely tell from my hardened look, my story is about battling demons. I was promised greater progress by the others in Team Mythic Beasts, and they have been of great help in my quest.

I made my armor from various monsters that I have slain in battle, but the helmet, specifically, is from an a assassin sent by my former captor. It put up a tough fight, that’s for sure, but nothing beats the fury of a dragon.

Underneath my armor is a simple outfit I put together in Moriad, where I have lived as a refugee for quite a few decades now. I asked my dwarf neighbors if they could make me custom wear, but it was too much for them. Therefore, every piece is made by hand, by myself.

… Yes. That is all.

💛 The Lion- Mikkel Anderson

(Dec 5 ♐️ | 19 y/o | ISFJ | 183cm / 6’0”)

Evil beware, the Lion of Team Mythic Beasts is here!

When I was a young lad, I’d be carrying heavy stuff everywhere to build up strength for all this armor that I wear now. That means I have to eat a lot of food every day, too! But underneath all this steel, I’m just a humble little guy from the city outskirts.

Oh, this medal? I got it from Lord Kristan! He’s the legendary founder of my hometown, Alphica, and he’s been watching over me and my nan since I was born.

So… that should cover everything about my outfit. You can probably tell I’m not as flashy as my friends; they’ll have a lot more to talk about than I do, I’m sure!

💚 The Weasel- Arthur Blackwood

(Oct 23 ♏️ | 36 y/o | ESTJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

Ha ha ha ha ha!!! If trouble is what you’d expect at the sight of a witch like me, then you’d be right— but you’ve got to be a total numbskull to get on my bad side. My long, sharp nails aren’t the only things you should worry about.

Not a fan of heavy clothes, since potions is my specialty; a simple coat, protective armwear, and a ragged cape does the job for me. As for the bird skull on my shoulder, one of the Raven Lord’s “beloved children” decided it was a good idea to get in the way of my curses— (MAKOTO’S NOTE: THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.)

Purple and cyan? Meh. Black, green, and silver? Classic. No idea what the witchcraft school I went to was thinking when they designed our uniforms, but I’ve done a better job than they ever will. It’s a shame my brothers don’t think the same.

That’s all you need to hear from me. Now get lost before I turn you into a frog!

🩵 The Eagle- Finn Dentrad (né Teryekol)

(Aug 28 ♍️ | 24 y/o | INTP | 162cm / 5’3”)

Looks like my days as an adventurer are not over yet!

My outfit used to be a lot lighter. Shorts, summer jacket, loafers… they’re comfy, no doubt, but I needed something to reflect the things I’m actually good at— engineering and mechanics. So I decided to switch them out for some heavy duty wear.

Now, I’m fully covered up from the neck down, because building stuff, especially gadgets, isn’t really a safe activity. My coat is long enough for protection, but not too long as to get caught in the middle of moving gears. Yikes! Just thinking about that frightens me.

My eyes are just as important for my talent, so I’ve switched out my hat for a pair of goggles. Combine that with my new coat and waist pockets… don’t I look a lot more reliable now?

Oh, one more thing… I’ve had so many people tell me how heavy my backpack is. Is it really? The only stuff in there are bigger mechanical parts and my robot dog Hanatamago, that’s all…

💙 The Bear- Fra’ser Du’randt

(Jun 26 ♋️ | 39 y/o | ENFJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

*yawns* … Oh, hey there. Sorry, I was busy… looking into other people’s dreams.

How is that possible? Well, not long after I came to this world, the Lord of Dreams made me his assistant. He gave me the power to access the dreams of other individuals at any given time, whether I’m awake or in the process of dreaming. Dispelling nightmares is my job, as well as my specialty.

My Lord designed and created my entire outfit. Blue and purple are the colors of dreams in this world, so it’s only natural that he would choose such hues. The sleeves of my coat are styled just like his, and my base wear resembles the uniform I had at my last job. I do miss my friends back there, but I’m happy to be able to serve my Lord. He is truly a kind deity.

Of course, fighting night terrors is a dangerous job, so the cape and armbands serve as protection. My downwards moon earring also acts as a talisman. All in all, it warms my heart that my Lord had considered so much when he made me this costume.

💜 The Fox- Lucas Reynard

(May 6 ♉️ | 110 y/o (physically 20) | INFP | 178cm / 5’10”)

Oh wow, I’m finally last for once. You probably know me well enough by now, as I’m all over this blog as well as Makoto’s Instagram page, if that’s how you found us here.

Every single item you see on me is a gift. Most are from my sisters, but gods have asked of my favor as well. I have no idea what they saw in me, but… alright. Pretty cool, I guess. If you want to know from whom is which, do let me know. By the way, if you look very closely at my choker, it has my initials on it.

Somehow, training with my family had helped me grow a pair of wings, fox ears, and a tail. No, this doesn’t make my hearing any better, nor can I fly... These parts are made of mist, and depending on my mood or energy level, can sometimes appear translucent or not show up at all.

The face markings... I got them while learning how to shapeshift under the God of Colors. He told me that every shapeshifter, whether born with the talent or learned it later in life, has a unique mark, or a combination of them. It’s not evident in my main form, but when I turn into a fox, the canine facial structure reveals the full shape of my marks— four diamonds.

Oh, sorry, I spoke too much… Well, if you want to know more about our outfits, feel free to ask. For now, have this— our very own mascot collection, Team MiniB. It was my idea, by the way.

#team mythic beasts #tmb luke #lucas reynard #tmb mikel #mikkel anderson #tmb jones #jones fitzgerald #tmb arthur #arthur blackwood #tmb fra’ser #fra’ser du’randt #tmb finny #finn dentrad #tmb ludi #ludovic brant #hetaveyond #hetaveyond 2007 #hetaveyond the mist beckons #aveyond x hetalia #surprisingly luke’s outfit is the first one I finished #i used to redesign him a lot #but it was the others who got a visual overhaul this time #especially finny and ludi #70+ years is the time ludi spent in hiding #i am not joking i had cowboy america in mind when I designed jones’ inner wear #for a so-called band of misfits they sure do have a lot of connections with the divine #you can probably notice a trend within the different equipment weight classes here #i want team minib plushies sooooo bad :(

[obeymebutnotlikethat]

Debt is the Soul 2

Their partnership was born from forced dealings, however, MC knew one thing about Mammon from observation: he was terrible with witches. For a demon who could win multiple betting pools and rigged games it seem his luck had an end of the road signal. One MC always assumed was a mere suggestion like stop on red or look both ways when driving.

Yet, here they sat before one of his first pact makers. A witch whose best feature was the small newt she trapped under a wine glass. Her claws clanking against the side of the glass while disregarding the troubled being across from her.

Stellus, a rouge-apparently witches worked like girl groups, did not care for the floundering Mammon had presented to her. He was less protector and more whipped dog in the exchange. Still, she cared less for barkers and more for scaled beings. They worked best in her potions.

"I see," MC interrupted with a cast at Mammon, "Well, you guys have fun. I'm going to head home."

"The little sheep leaves so soon," Stellus drawled, "Did I ever say we were done?"

They blinked at the witch presenting a flicker of magic in her palm- a threat not to move. MC, although concerned, believed Mammon could handle himself and would return back to the house. With a quick glance at him they retorted,

"Why wouldn't we be done? You turned him into a lizard-"

"A newt."

"-This was between you and him. Not me."

"Ah, but I'd get more with a human involved," she pondered, "Well, you specifically. The demon wasn't the wisest with his choices or who he allows to tag along."

They watched her snatch Mammon from his cage. The sickly sweet grin growing on her face as he hissed intensified.

"Your babysitter failed you, human. Instead of protecting you, he made you part of our deal."

"What deal?"

"Useless," the witch sneered, "no wonder you two are still alive."

MC decided to busy themselves by staring out the dirtied window. They didn't think they had to listen to either of them. It didn't involve them, it should've been an over and done situation. Apparently, nothing with Mammon was an over and done situation.

"Demons are like tools. Make a pact with them they do your dirty work," she scoffed, "I got into some trouble with a bandwagon of rats because of him. Not everyone is a fan of yours especially if you steal and cheat."

Her hand tightened around the struggling newt. The other came to clasp a butter knife off to the side.

"They heard I had a little involvement with a filthy Angel reject."

"Mammon, you slept with a witch," MC couldn't help themself.

The newt widened his eyes and the knife slammed past MC's neck.

"Bite your tongue. I'd rather suck the Demon Lord off in his slumber than touch that," her lip curled, "No, he got me into the mess and now he's going to get me out of it. You too, doll face, since he wanted to drag his new Master along."

They studied the woman before them and internally sighed. Mammon most definitely got them sold off.

While they could depend on the brothers to get them out of the situation...they also couldn't. Mammon in his wise ways confiscated their D.D.D before the excursion and left a note back at the house. A note he conveniently left with Beel and Belphie as he rightfully suspected they would defend him the most. So, in essence, they were screwed.

"Ok, fine we help you settle the predicament Mammon put you in," MC offered, "He's really good at getting people into those type of things. It's who he is but how are we supposed to help you? I mean you turned him into a newt and we know nothing about this group."

"They're coming to us," Steel...Stair...MC forgot.

"Right, can you turn him back," MC sighed.

"No, I like him better silent," she cut in at MC's breath, "You would know that little sheep if you listened before."

Her eyes glittered as she tossed the newt towards them. Her lips pursed as she watched the human almost fail to catch the worthless being. This was the great and powerful summoner she heard about? Appeared more so the Demons lied to ensure less trouble. For her sake, she hoped it was the right mortal. Or else the money wouldn't be as nice.

Course, the chain flickering in and out from MC's neck did bring a smile on her face. Yes, her problem will be solved and she wouldn't have to do a thing. Just as she liked it.

#shall we date obey me #obey me #shall we date #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic

[a-cold-mess]

Can we talk about the amazing characterization of Engen in chapter 86??

Cause I feel like that was slept on by a LOT of people. Maybe I'm just a feral little bitch about this series but hear me out.

First of all, Engen went through the trouble of seeking out Nugal. He had to track him down (or at least use information networks) to find his old ally in hopes of getting him to rejoin his cause.

Second of all, even after saying that Nugal had gotten weak (that's not very nice my morally atrocious bbg), Engen still wanted him to join him despite the decrease in power. Is that sentimentality I see?

Third of all, he speaks respectfully to Nugal. "I really need your help." Like damn. Engen mouths off to Elders (still calls Yushin sir) but will tell this dude that he needs help. That's so cute of him.

Fourth of all comes from Nugal himself. Engen got his ass beat by the Steel Witch. This is indisputable. He and the rest of Nera got beat so hard it prob crippled Nera. Like she slaughtered them without breaking a sweat. Most people were demoralized, but according to Nugal, Engen's resolve is still strong. That's badass. It's also why Nugal and Roxanne admired him so much.

Last but not least, THE THING THAT MAKES ME FERAL. After Nugal sets himself on fire and turns to ash, Engen kneels on the ground and grabs a handful of his ashes. He's clenching his fist and remembering how Nugal was in the past. HE IS MOURNING. THE SMILING MAN WHO SHEDS NO BLOOD OR TEARS IS MOURNING. He looked at those ashes with the stoic sadness of someone who lost a loyal friend, BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED. Engen clearly values loyalty and had a soft spot in his heart for Nugal who has always had absolute faith in him, even as he died.

TELL ME THIS ISN'T A SAD BOI

HE WAS GRIEVING SO MUCH

So yeah, it was a bomb ass chapter for the Engen fans (read: me) and I feel like it was overshadowed by badass kid Ihwa.

#engen #hero killer #hero killer webtoon #i am feral about this #I am unwell about this

[violets-in-her-arms-writes]

This or That? Tag

Thank you for tagging me @writernopal ! You can find her post here, go read it ! 💜 I had a lot of fun developing the answers, sorry if it's all over the place ^^

|| HISTORICAL or FUTURISTIC ||

I love to read historical novels but writing them is waaaayyy above my competence level and I know I would get lost in the research part of it instead of, you know, actually, writing it. So futuristic it is because I can bullshit my way through it.

|| OPENING or CLOSING CHAPTER ||

CLOSING CHAPTER!!! I can't wait to get to the one in La Fledgling! I'm gonna break my own heart, it's going to be great!

|| LIGHT+FLUFFY or DARK+GRITTY ||

I wish I could write light and fluffy things but I can't. It might be pathological at this point. I tried to write a fluffy mermaid AU and Lou drowned in the first chapter, so now I give up. I'll accept my fate.

|| ANIMAL COMPANION or FOUND FAMILY ||

I have to choose animal companion because one of my favourite character (Lorelei, immortal witch, high priestess of Némésis goddess of revenge) has a familiar named Doll. It's a raven who believes himself to be a bird of prey but is actually just... broken. It once tried to incubate a skunk and to eat a cat, so. He can't see windows and can cut through steel with his beak (through sheer determination and will). I love it with all my heart. I've only had him for twelve years, but if anything ever happened to him, I would kill to get him back 🤺🤺🤺

|| HORROR or ROMANCE ||

Romance that becomes horrifying, where you would do anything for your partner, even betraying your values and your faith, to the point where you can't recognize the person looking at you through the mirror. Or where your lover becomes something other and you're not sure how to love her anymore.

(On this not, there's a great novel Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield where one of the woman is marine biologist and comes back to her wife *wrong* after six months lost at sea. It's terrifying, it's great!)

|| HARD MAGIC SYSTEM or SOFT MAGIC SYSTEM ||

Fuck rules. Do whatever you want! Why do dragons exist in my world? Because the god of poison had children with a crocodile metamorph and she gave birth to the dragons, next question! Why is Lorelei's magic different from the others'? Because she's OP and I love her and she's my chosen one! Why can Jo [REDACTED] because. That's it. That's my justification. I do what I want as long as it's fun 💃‍

|| STANDALONE or SERIES ||

I always say I'm gonna write a standalone and I rarely succeed. I blame it on my favourite books I read as a child which were all super long series with like 50 books in it, spanning generations and thousands of years (hi Heralds of Valdemar and The ballad of Pern) I also blame them for making me write dragons and over-powered women. I love you, you're the best, mwah!

|| ONE PROJECT AT A TIME or ALWAYS JUGGLING 2+ ||

I'm always switching between WIPs depending on my mood and my motivation. I can put aside a project for months (hi book 3 of WsT... I'm coming back for you baby, I'm coming back for you!), start three new WIPs, and then go back to one of my ancients projects. Every time I try to persuade myself to only work on one thing I get frustrated and end up not writing at all so I just let my creativity take me wherever. I'm not even a passenger anymore, I'm stuck in the trunk of the car, scribbling madly and trying to understand what's going on. It's not going well.

|| ON AWARD WINNER or ONE BESTSELLER ||

I don't really care about awards. Like sure it'd be nice to know critics and judges liked mu book enough to give me a Hugo or a Nebula or whatever, but what I really want is for *actual people* to love my stories. I hope I can touch at least one person with my silly little characters and their struggles. (Also, I want the fanfics and the fan-arts 😂)

|| FANTASY OR SCI-FI ||

I love sci-fi, especially sci-fi stories where humanity has to leave earth and terraform/colonize other planets, I love exodus. I also love to just write whatever like an archeology student getting kidnapped but an alien sect because they think she can resurrect their leader. And I love fantasy because I love swords, and dragons, and magic, and lesbians (and lesbian dragon shapeshifters with a sword), and prophecies. I love being able to craft a world and society and to just... have fun.

|| CHARACTER DESCRIPTION or SETTING DESCRIPTION ||

I don't do it enough, but I love setting descriptions because it helps paint a picture and you can leave little nuggets of foreshadowing in it. (You can also do it with character description but I think I might be too obvious when I do that XD)

|| FIRST DRAFT or FINAL DRAFT ||

First draft is a pain in the ass but I actually love the process of figuring out what the fuck is going on, who the characters are, what they want, what they need. It's like getting to know someone but sudoku like. If you don't put the numbers in the right order you understand nothing. (It's a bad comparison, I hate sudoku, but you get what I mean). Also, what the fuck is a final draft? I've never met her. i always want to change something even after I'm done. Which is also why publishing scares me so much : what if I want to change something and can't because it's already been printed? Nightmare 😱

|| LOVE TRIANGLE IN EVERYTHING or NO ROMANTIC ARCS ||

I'd rather have no romantic arc ever again than suffer through a poorly written love triangle once again. I'm tired of love triangles. Be original at least and give me a love octagon or something. I don't know dude, make one of them die in a war, her wife mourns then starts dating again and then, she comes back after being MIA for years. Don't make it bland between the dark-haired bad boy and the blond boy next door, please I'm begging you. And if you really can't write any other romance, then please just give me an action novel or a fantasy novel or a horror novel without any romance. Please. No more love triangles.

|| CONSTANT SANDSTORM or RAINSTORM ||

Rainstorm if I'm inside! It's so soothing, especially at night. I love thunder and lightning, I love being comfy in my bed, listening to the rain 🥰

Gently tagging @liv-is, @ladyniniane & @autumnalwalker if you haven't done it yet 😊

#tag games

[forthesanityofstorytellers]

Graveyard

This might have been inspired by a random 'what if' post on Tumblr.

At any rate. Have a short story about vampire mermaids.

WC: 1319

Summary: A little mermaid seeks adventure in a ship's graveyard. She probably should have been a bit more careful.

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Looking over her shoulder, she motioned to the two behind her to keep swimming. Many tales were told around the jellyfish pits about how the deeper, darker regions of the sea were dangerous, home only to witches and monsters. All the stories ended with a warning for all merkind to stay away from the shadowed rocky depths, where the graveyard of old ships lay.

But she was curious and daring, and wanted to see for herself. With friends by her side, three little mermaids swam to the border.

The edge of sanctified seas were marked by poles stuck into the ground, pulsing gently with bioluminescent light. Beyond the pale throbbing glow, the seabed flattened and fell, cracks spiraling out beyond vision while deep gashes hid the secrets of the sea.

But while the seabed beyond may have been barren, the bones of past lives rose against the light; wooden ribs of ships, some broken and some intact, masts and poles and broken bits lay scattered as if this land were a battlefield, a mark of how many humans had battled the sea...and lost. Yet sea-life persisted. Moss and lichen clung to the artificial bones, waving at the three like gaunt, spindly fingers curling as if inviting them further.

Her friends hesitated at the border, glancing at each other. Her own heart pounded against her ribs, screaming to turn and run.

But she was brave. She was adventurous. She was going to go further than her cousin, who swam out two nights before to the very edge of sight and came back with a piece of a ship to prove his bravery, and who wouldn’t stop bragging about it.

Puffing out her chest, gills flaring in front of her friends, she swam out into the graveyard of wood and steel and sea-growth. She fanned her fins bravely at the edge, spinning to make sure her friends could still see her. They gave an answering flash of fins, letting her know they could. She hadn’t gone as far as her cousin. Making an effort to swallow her fluttering heart, she turned and swam deeper into the graveyard.

The glow faded from behind her, and for a moment she felt trapped in utter darkness. Then...soft lights from above began to appear. She glanced up, watching silver threads of moonlight making its way from the surface all the way down to her. Patches of silver interspersed between whole pieces of ships and hollow shells, exposing treasures and things she had never seen before. She looked around, hoping to see what kind of fish lived out in these wastes, but saw none.

Swimming down to a random ship, she began searching for something small she could tear from the bones; it couldn’t be seaweed or moss, as that could have been taken from anywhere. It had to be something clearly marked as a human thing.

Something caught her attention further down...a song, trapped in the water. Someone was singing. Someone like her.

Her heart froze as she strained to listen, her mind buzzing with the possibilities of sea witches and horrible graveyard monsters. Everything she refused to believe. Yet...monsters couldn’t sing such a beautiful song, could they?

Her tail pumped the water, body moving swiftly through the ships as she listened. A distant part of her screamed to get away, wailed at the sudden scattering of skeletal figures under her fins. But her body wouldn’t stop. The song spurred her onwards, seeking out the singer. The music dismissed all worries as she got closer, the lilting melodies slowly beating away any fear from her mind.

And then she found it; the singer. Hidden away in the shadows of a broken deck sat another mermaid. Another mermaid!!

The singing faltered as the mermaid looked around, catching sight of her. She had a flash of instinct to hide, but found it quickly dismissed. Why would one of her kind want to hurt her? After all, she could sing so lovely.

Staring at her, the mermaid resumed the lovely melody, the music growing stronger and more intriguing. She couldn't help but drift closer and closer, yearning to look upon the face of the singer. The song promised joy and love, dismissed things like fear and hesitation and instinct. Told her not to look at the shadows looming around her, asked her to forget the sight of dried-up husks of other merfolk under her fins.

The beautiful voice.

A hand reached out, stopping just at the border of light and dark. The song changed, the mermaid weaving a story through the notes about how an old sea witch cursed her to remain here in isolation. How all she needed was the gentle touch of a stranger, and she would be set free.

She stared at the hand as the cursed mermaid’s song wrapped around her. Something drew her in, some force from the hand alone. She hadn't made up her mind. Something still snagged her attention, nagged at the back of her mind. Something was wrong...but her body moved forward, this time without permission or guidance.

Her skin crawled as she left the light. The water was so cold...no. It wasn't the water. The hand was now on her arm, a lifeless chill crawling up her scales and skin into her heart as the cursed mermaid pulled her closer.

The singing was loud, now. So loud, it washed away the last vestiges of her hesitation and will. Her body relaxed, sunk into the lilting chorus of the music. She didn’t feel any pain as sharp, pointed teeth pierced her body, didn’t flinch as the cursed mermaid began to feed. She was aware of nothing but the sweet music, carrying her away into oblivion. Then she was aware of nothing at all.

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Coming upon her traps, the sea witch paused. The mast she had previously used to trap a mermaid was now empty, the magic cuff used to keep her here broken and drifting. A body floated nearby, hidden among the wreckage of human ships and sea vegetation. Moss was wrapped around the dead mermaid, holding her down in an act of burial amongst the graveyard.

The witch sighed. The mermaid previously trapped here was one of the ancient ones, back in the days when they had the ability to sing others to their deaths via sucking the bodies dry. The humans managed to confuse the legends, as humans do, resulting in names like ‘vampire’ and ‘siren’. If only they knew what horrors lurked in the deeps.

And now that horror was free.

Holding her seaweed belt down against her body, she swam over to the dead mermaid and looked her over. Two prick-marks could be found against the small body, a sure sign she had been fed on.

The witch wasn’t powerful enough to kill the ancient one, but had managed to use her arts to trap her here, and so long as the ancient one was left to starve, she wouldn’t have been able to break free. Clearly, one little mermaid had slipped through and given the keys of escape to a monster as old as the waters.

Back in the old days, the witch would have a clan to call upon. But most of her family was dead, slain by whalers or sea monsters or merfolk scared by false stories. She was the last of her kind, and it was her duty to finish what her family started.

Yanking free a small sharktooth knife, the witch began to enchant it as her mind raced. She must find the ancient one before it had time to spread itself, before it had time to give others its dark gift. The nearby territory was in danger. She had to act fast.

First, she had to make sure the newest kill wouldn't turn into that which killed her. And then...the hunt was on.

#Graveyard #my writing #my work #short stories #short story #mermaids