Everyday is the same. Morning’s light shines, spackled and fractured through the tattered, burlap curtain. You raise your arm to shield your face. You cringe. You groan. You sit up. There’s a satisfying crackle when you roll your head from one shoulder to the other. Convinced that you should go to work, you stretch, then drag yourself out of bed (if you can consider a blanket on the floor and a rolled up shirt for a pillow as a bed). Still it’s better than waking up, face first in dirt. You’ve been there before and you’d rather not be there again.
Work is work. Food is food. Drink is drink. Evening is evening, but with that you can at least drown the dull life you live in copious amounts of liquor. Numb reality away and drift—drift in an imagined haze of a life where you’re free from this drudgery. And that’s exactly what you do today. Drink. Drink. Drink until you nearly disintegrate. Same as every other.
But this day is not like every other. You stumble out of the local bar and wander by the apothecary’s humble shop. There’s an agitating jingle that wraps itself around your head that’s just begun to throb as a breeze blows through, rustling the makeshift set of chimes near the smeared window. Grasping the corner of the building, fist closing as you wrap an arm around your waist, you steady yourself. A deep inhale and exhale and your stomach gurgles, lurches, threatening your evening and maybe even tomorrow morning too. Doubling over, you swallow, and gulp, and will the contents bubbling in the back of your throat downward. Downward into the pit of your stomach where it belongs.
“Not looking so good.” There’s a tsk. “I can help with that.”
You glance up to see an unfamiliar face that’s half smiling at you, eyes mostly hidden in the shadow of the hood of his cloak. That’s not the apothecary you know. It doesn’t matter, not when your insides want to be your outsides. You try to shove back some of the hair sticking to your temples and suck in fresh air. Even though it’s evening, the air is stale, and ripe with wet blanketed heat. It only makes matters worse.
“Please, I’ll take anything you’ve got,” you manage to croak.
The apothecary shuffles away and reappears after what feels like an eternity, a small vile in hand. He pops the cork and offers the vial. “It’s bitter,” he warns.
Throwing your head back, you dump the burning liquid down your throat and bitter is an understatement. Still, its effects are immediate. You straighten out, palm still pressed to the side of the building.
“Better?” He asks.
You give a nod. “How much?” There’s hope it won’t be your life’s savings but it would have been worth it. Any cost would be worth it to be able to crawl home and not spend the night hunched over a toilet and waking up to the incessant throb of a hangover.
He waves a hand at you. “Consider this one on the house.”
Eyeing him suspiciously, you give the empty vial back. “Nothing’s free.”
He folds his arms across his chest. “This is. You’re special.”
“I am not special,” you say.
Nobody’s special.
He throws you a curious smile, a chunk of his dark hair swooping down over his cheek. He leans in a little closer to you. “I think you are.”
He bites down on his bottom lip. Whether it’s to hold back more of what he wants to say or some kind of flirt, you’re too far gone to sort it out or really care.
“And I know you’re wrong,” you reply. “But thanks for the assist anyway.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he replies.
With a shake of your head, you shove off the wall, leaving him behind as you continue your trek back to your hovel of a home and pass out.
Greer first meets Clint at a time in her life where she is, to put it mildly, a bit all over the place. She’s left Chicago & The Cat behind & she’s looking for her next Big Thing. She tried being an Avenger & got so spooked she left after a week. She tried to become a model. She even went to try and help Jess Drew set up her PI business. But then she got the call about the new West Coast branch of Avengers, & thought it just might be the thing she’s been itching for.
Now it’s never really confirmed (at least from what I can recall) who exactly made the call to Tigra, but it’s heavily alluded to the fact that it could have been Clint, who would have been advised by Jan & Vision at the time. So Clint saw potential enough to get Greer on the team. She was the first one at the gate to arrive, so you can tell already how much this means to her, & how much she wants to dedicate herself to this new gig.
Greer has this really deep need to prove herself. It started before Tigra back in Chicago. She didn’t want to be just a housewife despite getting married & putting college on the back burner. She knew she had potential to do great things, which lead her to going back to college to study Biology, working on the serum with Dr Tumolo & eventually becoming The Cat. Despite being incredibly capable, she still harbours some doubts. Especially being fresh to the hero game with no support.
Then she becomes Tigra, & wow, what turning into a tiger woman does to a lady’s self-esteem. Still, she takes it in her stride, loves how much stronger she is in this new form, becomes enamoured with all the incredible changes to her body, & continues fighting crime this way. But she’s battling with her new found instincts, the doubts are festering, she’s terrified that she’ll lose the woman inside. She’s waging a war within herself, & after coming so close to killing the Molecule Man on the Avenger’s team, despite saving her teammates (Cap, Iron Man & Thor — three insanely heavy hitters & vets) she ultimately decides she’s got shit to work on & leaves.
Bringing us back to the Wackos. New state, fresh team — stakes are lower. She figures everybody is gonna be in the same boat as she is. It’ll be a learning curve but it’ll be all the more rewarding because of it. Clint is also battling his own need to prove himself — his mentor was THE Captain America, he wants to make him proud & he wants to be for this team what Cap was to him, Wanda & Pietro. He cannot fail. It’s not an option.
Clint is very attentive because of this (sometimes to his own detriment). He checks in regularly, notices the little things that his team seem to be struggling with & thinks about it often as well, but sometimes doesn’t know exactly the right thing to say. But he’s there: a pat on the back, an encouraging word, a Sunday night BBQ. Greer notices all of this (through her tantrums) & appreciates it greatly. She can see they share some common traits & so she wants to prove to Clint (& herself) that she was right girl for the job.
Quite early on Greer goes through her first ‘feral’ stage — almost mauling Clint in the process. She’s mortified, she’s scared, she’s angry & he (rightfully so) starts keeping his guard up around her just a little more, but still does his best to be there for her. By now, Greer is getting comfortable with her team (a little too comfortable some would say) so she’s letting it all hang out. She’s grooming herself on the couch, she’s jumping up on the kitchen counter, she’s cozying up with Simon & Hank. Clint’s a bit put off — he’s not super into the PDA (as evident in interactions with Bobbi when the team is around) so he’s pushing back a bit. Greer (selfishly) pushes back, probably says some shit like he’s being sexist or to leave his hang ups at the door. There’s some underlying tension, they’re both hot heads, but Clint doesn’t wanna fight so he just leaves it.
Fast forward to the timestream mess & Ancient Egypt. Not only do they lose Bobbi in the Wild West but Clint gets very badly injured in the process. Being an empath she can immediately tell not only is he extremely worried for the welfare of his wife, but he’s also in an incredible amount of pain. He pushes through until he can’t anymore, & with Tony & Simon too busy measuring their dicks, she has no choice but to step up. She carries him off to safety, unknowingly placing him in front of the statue of Khonshu who temporarily makes him an avatar to heal him, & calls Moon Knight to the Wacko’s aid in the current timeline.
After they get back home, Clint is in such emotional turmoil that he has no idea how to handle. He gets on the defensive, he bites back. Greer wants to be there for him, she tries to be but he brushes her off, & her best judy Bobbi is going THROUGH IT so she focuses on her. She’s the only other woman on the team, the boys will take care of each other. Maybe. Maybe not. Clint blows up, the team seperate & Greer, Marc & Bobbi go off to do their own thing for a bit. Eventually the team reconciles & everything slowly starts to return to normal, but Greer decides to vacate her spot on the roster to return to Australia for a much needed extended vacation.
Until they lose Bobbi.
Greer comes back to help with the funeral. Clint is a mess. The messiest he’s ever been. He’s putting on a brave face but Greer can feel it all. She picks up the slack, she makes sure shit gets done so Clint doesn’t have to worry about it. Everybody rallies behind ol’ Hawkeye. Eventually he can’t keep it in, & Greer is the one to console him. To sit in silence with him, to be a safe space for him while he grieves properly for the first time.
Still navigating her own grief at the loss of dear friend & guilt for not being there when it happened, Greer once again becomes restless & angry. Jan & Cap notice & task her with infiltrating a ring of dirty cops in the NYPD. During this time Greer completes Police Academy, brings the brotherhood of corrupt cops down & becomes a police office in honour on her late husband’s memory. She has a new purpose.
Then the unfathomable happens. They lose Clint.
Just like that, he’s gone. She’s lost her mentor, her friend, her teammate. The guy gave her hell for leaving her fur all over the couch, the guy who’d take extra care to make sure he never over grilled her burger, the guy who’d see a frown on her face & crack a stupid joke, the guy who turned up the music & danced with her when no one else would. The guy who put everybody else’s needs above his own. Gone. Just like that.
Everything is fucked — they’re fighting amongst themselves, the SHRA is driving a wedge between them, she’s being torn between what’s right in her heart & what’s right by the law. & without ol’ Hawkeye to guide her, Greer makes her choice. She chooses her side — she fights to uphold the law, & is met with hardship after hardship. Working two seperate jobs, playing spy, being targeted by The Hood & his cronies. After her second assault by The Hood in her home, after giving up the New Avengers’ secret base & making them targets, Greer goes to their aid, to fix her mess.
She’s already injured, shot through the shoulder, & when she arrives at Strange’s Sanctum they’re in the heat of the battle, but she leaps to action. There’s faces new & familiar, but a scent registered that she hadn’t expected to. Clint’s. He’s there, he’s in a brand new costume, he’s back. Carol intervenes, tells her to run before Tony gets wind that she was here & lets the others go. Knowing that Clint was there gives her doubts that she’s made the right choice. She starts to push back against Tony, starts feeding him false info. She gets sent to Arkansas as punishment.
It’s all downhill from there. One bad thing after another, blow after blow she takes but she doesn’t have time to stop & deal with it. With Osborn at the helm & after her baby, she becomes a wanted felon. They all do. She’s as mad as she’s ever been & scared out of her mind & she can’t even stop to be with her newborn son because she’s gotta make sure the world is safe for him.
Once it’s all over, she finally has time to be back with her friends. Everybody is together, she’s got her baby with her but there’s only one person she wants to see — Clint. They don’t talk, not really. He knows who & what that baby is, but he doesn’t even waver. He grabs that cub & lays his arm over her furry shoulders & they talk about nothing important. They just stick together because that’s what teammates do, that’s what Avengers do. He comes to help out at the Academy for a little bit, & it’s nostalgic. Clint makes wise cracks about the way she looks at Hank, reminisces about the West Coast days, hangs out with her & her kid. It’s nice, it’s familiar, it’s just what she needs. Making new & better memories: it’s what they both need. He doesn’t stay long but she’s more grateful than she can ever say that he was here with her when she needed him the most.
Time moves a lot faster now that they’re older. Years move by like weeks, they don’t see each other as often as they used to but they still make an effort to catch up. He’s slipping mentally & she notices but she doesn’t say anything because it’s just not their way, they don’t talk — they just show up for each other where it counts. She knows he’s running around in the Ronin costume again, he knows that she’s been doing it tough since Hank died & she’s been running around with Moon Knight, beating the shit out of people.
But they don’t say anything. They just laugh until they cry, turn the music up louder, fight by each other’s side when they’ve got no one else to call. They each catch the other when they fall, pick each other up off the floor & wipe the blood off each others’ faces.
When Greer feels like she has no one left in the world, she remembers that ol’ Hawkeye is just a phone call away, & she doesn’t feel so alone.
Talk about a whirlwind of a first day! Not only was Ellie able to see her old house, but she was able to reunite with her long lost parents. As it turns out, they were the ones responsible for her time travel and that the current Eden is her true timeline. She wasn't the only one to reunite with someone though! Rayman was also able to reunite with his long lost brother Globox!
While everyone was at the house, the redhead made sure to give her boyfriend a full tour of her house. The most impressive being her underground lab which she not just showed her lover, but the entire household as well. Later that evening, they had a cookout using the fire pit and roasted cocktail weenies and marshmallows. Of course, their first night in New York couldn't be complete without stargazing on the rooftop with the blonde while wrapped up in blankets and sipping tea.
The next morning, they all had breakfast together before heading into the city. The ginger and the limbless man made sure to stop at the Stanley's grocery store to get the eggs that were broken the previous day. Looking around Times Square, it looked the same, but had a futuristic feel to it.
"I was a bit in awe yesterday when we were driving through it on our way to my house. But....wow....Times Squares still the iconic and nostalgic place that I remember it to be. Yet...it feels all so new to me at the same time!" The rebel turned to look at her boyfriend with a bright and big smile on her face.
"Name something your in the mood to do. Times Square pretty much has anything. Food, shopping, live entertainment, broadway shows, just to name a few. If we don't get to everything today, just remember that we have one full week. I know at some point I want to go to Central Park with you and have a picnic. That's of course two hours away from here and can be done another day."
Snow fell silently onto roofs, cobblestones, and dirt, cloaking the street in white. In some corners of Baldur’s Gate, corpses lay hidden beneath its shroud. Though the snowfall had ceased, the cold lingered - watched by pure moonlight, the ground mirrored in soft blue.
It was early morning, so early it was still night. The snow lay untouched, for even the servants slept, and the guards had retreated inside to warm their frozen limbs.
Only one young woman could not rest. She tossed and turned beneath the silver gaze streaming through the iron-barred window. Her room was freezing, ice crusting in the basin she would use for washing come working hours.
Clouds of breath curled into the air.
She huddled deeper into a blanket too thin for this winter’s cruelty. Be grateful, she told herself. At least she had a blanket. Ilmater had less. Watched by the Lady of Silver, governed by Tyr’s law, some lived in shadow, some without ground to stand on at all.
Her masters - blessed with glory and privilege - gave her work, a room, even this meager warmth. And here she was, resenting the world simply because she was cold.
“Passio est oratio, oratio est puritas, puritas est ordo. - Suffering is prayer, prayer is purity, purity is order...” she whispered, repeating the clerics’ mantra from the chapel in the fortress she called home.
Her feet swung from the bed. Turning her back on the moon, she slipped on patched socks and worn shoes, pulling on her furlough clothes so as not to wrinkle her uniform.
Lighting her half-burned candle, and taking it into her hand, she crept through the corridors, moving on tiptoe, slipping into servant paths that once had bewildered her, now learned like the lines of her own hand. They led her to the courtyard.
There she stopped. Before her stretched the snow, perfect, unmarred. She looked up at the moon.
“Beautiful Lady in Silver...” she whispered, the familiar invocation heavy on her tongue. Yes, Selûne was beautiful, but her light was cold. Perhaps heaven’s warmth was not for the lowborn. Perhaps she had not earned even a glimpse.
Breathing deep, she set her foot into the snow. The sound of crunching drifted through the silent yard, and a small smile curved her lips. Step by step, she ruined the flawless white, childlike joy warring with guilt, until she stood before the chapel. She turned to look back at the trail of her own footprints, heart heavy. She had marred perfection. Destroyed a gift by the heavens, and even felt joy through it.
The chapel doors gave way to her push. Inside, three gods shared the small space: Ilmater, Selûne, Tyr. The stained glass glittered with wealth beyond her family’s lifetime. She could neither read nor travel; the only teachings she knew were the interpretations handed down by her lords and their priests. And still... she questioned.
She placed her candle on the altar and fell to her knees, forehead nearly to the floor, hands clenched so tightly above her head they left red marks in her skin.
“How much must we suffer before we are holy enough to feel your warmth?” she whispered, lowering herself further. “I am sorry... but please, answer in a way WE can hear.”
Her mistress’s moonstone necklace was not an answer. Nor the heir’s fine grades at his studies while he wasted his days chasing skirts. The clerics called such blessings signs of the gods. But the rings and relics never passed to servants. They were locked away, useless to those who needed them most. To want them was greed, they said. To ask for more than one deserved was a sin.
“Oh please, heaven above... forgive me.”
The moon offered nothing. The clouded glass let in no warmth. A shadow crossed Selûne’s light, leaving the chapel dim except for her flickering candle. And in the silence, even that flame wavered, though no wind stirred the sacred air.
She kept her head bowed, but felt it - the shift. Warmth filled the space, and a shiver ran down her spine. She looked up in sudden worry, fearing her candle had toppled, but the tiny flame stood. Only then did she see her own shadow cast before her - light spilling from behind. Footsteps followed.
Instinct jolted her to her feet, and she spun around.
A stranger stood in the chapel. With him came light, and with him came warmth.
She stumbled back until the altar pressed cold against her spine.
“You... you shouldn’t be here!” she stammered, pressing a hand to her chest. She had never seen his like, but the warnings of priests and the dark songs of servants rang in her mind.
Hmmmm I have a lot of Thoughts on Catherine Moreland as an autistic character.
It’s clear right from the start that her special interest is gothic novels and she hyperfixates on them: she’s practically in pain that she can’t talk about them in regular conversation or that those she can talk to don’t care as much as she does. The earliest contrast between John Thorpe and Henry Tilney is that the former ridicules her for her interest and the latter celebrates it and even playfully competes for obsession level. She GLOWS when this happens and we actually get to see her socialize outside of anxiety and self-doubt. She has dozens of deeply relatable “just like blorbos from my novels…” moments.
Most of all though is her social interactions. Her completely missing instances of flirting alternates between relatably funny and sad. Early on she’s constantly confused by the Thorpes’ blatant insincerity, partly because of trying to extend good faith, but largely because she interprets it so literally. I loved the scene where John Thorpe is going off about how the other carriage sucks so much compared to his, it will probably fall apart any minute, and she panics about the others getting hurt and tries to get him to turn around to help them. It’s a brand of naivety that is less childish than it is “unscarred neurodivergent person who isn’t used to people constantly saying shit they don’t mean and expecting you to figure it out.” It’s sad when she slowly learns to distrust the literal because of how many times they’ve abused her goodwill.
She also gets what feels like RSD whenever she steps out of line; it’s the end of the world if she praises something that someone else puts down, or if she disappoints someone, and smothers herself in shame for what others would do without a thought.
At the same time, I’m reminded of like Dungeon Meshi’s compassion for an autistic protag in that realm, both for the struggles and values of it. Her bluntness, sincerity, and goodwill is what breaks through Henry’s cynicism and makes him fall in love with her. She never learned to play the insincere game that even her family friends like Mrs. Allen are caught up in, and that earns her a trust that is worth being cut off by his father for.
These lines sum it up so well:
“Prepare for your sister-in-law, Eleanor, and such a sister-in-law as you must delight in! Open, candid, artless, guileless, with affections strong and simple, forming no pretensions, and knowing no disguise.”
“Such a sister-in-law, Henry, I should delight in,” said Eleanor.
BOTH Tilney children love her deeply because she’s everything they’re deprived of in their oppressive home life. They value all of these traits that make it hard for her to socially navigate her world. And even as she gets more world-wary and experienced herself, that never changes. (And this practical-proposal goes completely over her head as being about her ghskfjkdjf bless)
✦ maru mori: the heartbreaking simplicity of ordinary things. (Asked by: @hopetune // @mrch7th // @everlastingeccentric )
Obscure Sorrows // Not Accepting Currently
ONCE, during the myriad days spend waiting for March to awaken all those years ago, he was asked about the wallpaper of his phone and the people that beamed up at him. It's such a simple thing, and yet it was the first time in a long time to be asked about his parentage of children. He'd resigned himself long before any of them came into his life to an unwillingness to sire children, and yet... somehow fate's course had far different plans for him.
Mei had been the first to come into his care, indirectly of course, he didn't dare risk putting her into danger by associating Anti-Entropy with her more than Cocolia already had. Yet... that never truly stopped Joachim from being registered as her guardian through various intermediaries and shell companies, pulling on the fast fortune he'd accumulated from licensing the discoveries made in the development of Arahato as pieces of top of the line technology.
Pride has swelled in his breast at every school report that praised her intelligence, at her every action that proved her to be more than the family name, oft looked upon with scorn by those enamoured with the faith Schicksal inspired. It was with that guardianship, with the time he devoted to attending every meeting through varies intermediaries, that that precious girl had become one of many children.
Kiana had been next to (re)appear, a rebellious streak a mile long reminiscent of his, reluctantly admitted, best friend. He'd lost track of her somewhere in Siberia, so devoted was he to spreading enough chaos that no one would realise she was on the verge of erupting. His care for her was born of a promise, months and years treating the ICHOR in Siegfried's veins dedicated to ensuring she escaped the view of that man until he could no longer mould her into a weapon like he had so many others.
He'd had no part in driving her towards Nagazora, and yet... he wouldn't say he was disappointed when the two girls he adored in ways words could never express united. Assuming the role of guardian once again, with every report that showed her flourishing in the unconventional ways of her Mother and Father, Welt could only sigh in relief and prepare himself for the day in which his assistance would be needed in more obvious measures.
The third ward was the one he'd least expected, and one that he hadn't found himself expecting at all. Bronya, his successor, the girl whose lack of visible emotion only made her care more for others. He hadn't expected for her, and yet she was the one that wormed her way into his heart with a vigour he hadn't seen since her teacher had done the same all those years ago. He'd passed the core to her, and in return that bond gained was all the more special for it.
Of course, they were not alone, Seele, the twins, Joey, all were just as much the children of Anti-Entropy, his children. And so, with the softest smile, as the wallpaper on his phone shined up to him with a picture of his precious children, and the longing in his voice that a parent can hold for those he missed, he was able to finally reply.
"Ah... it's only ordinary for a Father to want to see his children's smiling faces, isn't it?"
Topic du Jour: Parenthood. In applicable verses, when Ruby first reunites with Jane, the girl is sullen and listless. She'd been raised by a strict matron who felt children should be tucked away and only brought out on special occasions, so she spent ages 1-6 convinced that simply being seen is deserving of punishment. She spent much of her time reading or staring out windows, often going days without saying a word.
Ruby, freshly free from the dragon, was not prepared for motherhood. She wouldn't have known how to handle a regular child with lots of energy and a thousand questions. Jane, however, had very specific needs, which Ruby was able to quickly pick up on and fulfill. The girl spent much of the first few months hiding in closets or storage rooms, not wanting to be seen or daring to eat food she wasn't allowed, so Ruby got her a little friend -- a plush toy that would become the first of many -- and sat on the other side of the door, just talking. She'd read storybooks aloud, or she'd talk about herself, and say how happy she is to know Jane and have her for a daughter.
Slowly, Jane came out of her shell until she only sought out hiding spots under extreme emotional duress. She remained shy in unfamiliar situations, but she became more outgoing, and her curiosity began to shine through, as well as her love for knights and dragons. At the same time, Ruby learned to be more expressive for Jane to the point where she would openly smile and laugh with her daughter, as well as pepper her with kisses and affection no matter who saw (a huge contrast to how she behaves around adults she cares deeply for).
She's still far from a perfect mother, always struggling to find the right balance between encouraging Jane to be happy vs spoiling her too much, and protecting her from the world vs over-sheltering her. Like in all things, Ruby over-researches and stresses over what she's doing, especially because Jane still struggles in social situations with kids her own age, and will until her teenage years. And Jane's not blind either -- she sees how differently Ruby treats her vs how she acts towards the rest of the world, and troubles her occasionally. Jane knows she's different from the rest of the kids and struggles to feel like she fits in, and Ruby's openness with her is just another reminder of that -- though far more often than not, it doesn't trouble her at all, and she's simply happy to be a kid.
More than anything, Jane knows she's loved. Ruby supports her interests, and encourages her to speak her mind and take up space. Jane still hides when her emotions run high enough, and being on the autism spectrum means she has a unique set of needs compared to other kids, but she's finally able to be a kid.
As she grows, she and Ruby will occasionally butt heads. Jane will discover her orientation and identity, experiment with fashion and get into trouble. When that happens, Ruby will do her best to remind Jane that she's loved, but also sneaking into the mall after dark is a real dumb thing to do, don't ever do it again. Jane will never feel like she isn't allowed to exist in the world, and while Ruby will make mistakes, it's nothing that can't be smoothed over in time.
Some misc parenting fun facts, mainly in Modern Verse
They have fancy "camping" movie nights where Jane gets to invite a few friends over. Ruby sets up a little tent inside the house and lay in sleeping bags while watching the movie.
They both refer to snacks as an X-snack. Eg A popcorn snack, a celery snack, a salami snack. Ruby doesn't remember how it started, but now she can't stop.
Ruby hates getting dirty or spending time in the great outdoors, but she does it for Jane. Just don't ask how expensive those hiking boots were. Ruby is out in nature, so take the wins where you can get them.
Jane's growth has been stunted, and she'll never be anywhere close to her mother's height. This is occasionally a minor point of insecurity in Jane's teenage years.
