#And then other days its a look into an alternate dimension removed from time and space

[mewvore]

found a jean bustier at the thrift store. the justier

[heartpascal]

or is it loneliness?

▹— (eventual) spiderverse found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that.

▹— a/n: guys idk what im DOING. i have things planned for atsv but not how we’re gonna get there … rn im just yolo-ing. im not a big fan of this one but im gonna start writing the next one asap, which will hide fully be more found family-ish lmao arachnid is gonna start warming up to them all some day i swear

▹— warnings: angst, injuries, not good thoughts, dead parents, sensory issues, explosions, violence, fighting, blood?, damaged hearing for a good minute, peter b parker eating burgers deserves its own warning, food, mention of throwing up / nausea, insecurities about being good enough, refusing help, idk what else, if ive missed anything let me know!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree (everything taglist) @justmare @uniquemonstrosity @lacunaanonymoused @erensbbg @dulceteris @noxxing @escherichiacolli @ray-rook @i-3at-kidz @miwagila @stoneforests (is it freedom’verse) — also i only tagged those who explicitly asked to be tagged!

MASTERLIST , part one

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You spend a long time sat on the edge of the open window, staring out at the traffic below after getting back from Spider Society HQ. There’s a tangible relief that comes with returning to your dimension, like a weight being removed, a tension that is finally released from where it had been pulled taut. Your shoulders feel just as heavy as they did when you left, but you try not to think about it. You try to be happy that you’re back.

While you wouldn’t say it aloud, and you hate to even have the thought, you don’t think anybody had noticed you were gone. But then again, who would? You have no reason to be so upset about such a thing.

Time slips by as you diligently sew up the tears in your suit, frowning as you hold it up once you’re finished. It looks nothing like it used to, but then again, neither do you. Things have changed, it only makes sense that your suit would, too. You wonder if travelling through alternate dimensions can alter your perception of things. You’d swear that your suit had been a different shade before you left, lighter, maybe, but you have nothing to compare it to.

At least now, this time, when you put on your suit there is evidence of damage that Gwen Stacy had caused. The stitching along your the material where she had tore into you is a tangible thing, physical, and you run your fingers across it as if it might disappear. It’s almost a relief, to be able to feel where she had caused you pain, as opposed to the invisible ache she had left within you after fighting her the first time around.

Alongside the scar raised on your body, the fight with Gwen had left you with a sort of paranoia. An uncertainty in the back of your mind that has you glancing over your shoulder, has you messing up simple manoeuvres as you panic, thinking you hear her voice.

It must have been your third day back from the HQ that you come to the conclusion that you have to visit Gwen Stacy in her prison.

The decision doesn’t come easily. It comes slowly, torturously so, a realisation that deafens you as you glare through squinted lenses at the city around you. You won’t be able to go on like this, getting yourself hurt in stupid ways all because you’re not certain that she’s back in her prison. You’re meant to be a hero, which means that messing up, despite whatever paranoia that lingers in the back of your head, is unacceptable. It has consequences.

Seeing her in the flesh will likely be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Except, maybe, not killing her when you caught her in that other dimension. You keep your mind on the fact that she won’t be able to touch you, that she’ll be walled away, to reassure yourself that there is no risk of either of you hurting the other — at least, physically.

But seeing her isn’t the only difficult part.

No, the hardest part is stepping back into an identity that you had lost your grasp on, long ago. You wear your old clothes, clothes that you hadn’t put on in months, and try to remember how it felt to be you, rather than Arachnid.

“Hi, Mrs. Stacy.” You say, when the door to an all too familiar apartment opens just a slither, and you catch sight of her wrinkled eyes. There’s a noticeable change to them when she realises who you are, and she’s slamming the door shut, undoing the chain, and reopening it before you can say another word.

She whispers your name like she can’t believe it’s you — and you can’t blame her.

You had disappeared, months ago, after the death of your father. Going missing was far easier than being placed in a foster system that would only hold you back. It had been so much easier, not having to face anyone, not having to speak at his funeral.

“Hi.” You repeat, when her stare lingers in the silence for far too long. The sound of your voice once again breaks her out of her trance, and she’s rushing forward to pull you into her arms as if you were her child. You suppose, in some ways, it was quite a lot like that. At the very least, your presence will remind her of the daughter she had lost.

“Where have you been? Oh, honey, I was so worried.” Mrs. Stacy says, her voice trembling by your ear as she squeezes you tight, unfazed by your lack of reciprocation. “Come inside, please.”

You follow her through the doorway, closing the door behind you as you had done so many times before. Not looking around at the apartment is near impossible, but you’re not sure how much familiarity you can take. Even just seeing Mrs. Stacey’s aged face makes your chest ache, your legs feeling shaky.

“Sit down, honey, let me get you a warm drink.” She says, a tremor to her voice as she bustles towards the kitchen which is adjoined to the living room. The news plays on the television, and you’re glad to hear a weather report, rather than some city-wide attack. Mrs. Stacy is quiet as she goes through the process of making your favourite drink, but with your enhanced hearing you listen to the telltale clink of a spoon against ceramic. You listen closely to her hitched breathing as her footsteps pad back into the room. “Here.” She hands you the warm mug, and you don’t comment on the way her hand shakes.

“Thank you.” You say, though it feels stilted, wrong, too formal. It’s hard to be normal in this setting, to be whoever you used to be, especially as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

Mrs. Stacy stares at you for a long while before she speaks again, as if she’s still not sure that you’re real. “Where have you been? After—After your dad… we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you safe? Do you need help?” She asks, frantic once she’s gotten started on her questions.

“Mrs. Stacy, I’m fine, really.” You lie, smiling tightly over the rim of the mug as you hold it towards your face. Before, you would’ve burnt your tongue drinking it too fast, but you’re hesitant to drink it at all. The last thing you want is to become too familiar to your old life. “I’ve been staying with some friends, downtown. It’s been good.”

She raises a brow at you, and stares for a moment longer. “Honey… you don’t look well.” She tells you, and raises the back of her hand to press it against your forehead. Her frown only deepens when you flinch away from the touch. You try not to curse yourself too much, but can’t help reprimanding the way you hadn’t anticipated such an action.

The skin on your forehead is clammy, but that’s just the anxiety, the nerves at being back here. Arachnid can’t get sick.

“Listen, I… I was hoping I could ask a favour from you.” You say, hesitantly, gripping the warm mug tight between your hands, but loosen your fingertips against the ceramic when you hear a minute crack.

Mrs. Stacy furrows her brows, looking more concerned by the second, but nods. “Of course, anything.” She tells you, and places one of her hands against yours on the mug.

“I was hoping I could visit Gwen.” You voice, after one last moment of hesitation. The way her face immediately crumples at the request doesn’t give you much hope, especially as her hand withdraws from your own. “I—I know you don’t get to see her very often, and maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know. I wanted some kind of closure, I guess.” You ramble on in response to her silence, glaring down at the liquid still swirling in your mug.

“Honey,” Mrs. Stacy interrupts, her voice soft in contrast to the way yours was growing in volume. You quiet immediately, your gaze drawn up to where her tearful eyes stare at you, her expression almost mourning. “I would never deny you that, but you should know… I haven’t visited Gwenny since she was put in there.” She admits, her stare dropping to her lap, almost ashamed.

“Oh,” You voice, softly, in response. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed— I—I mean, I can’t even imagine—”

“No, don’t be silly, how would you have known?” She replies, raising her eyebrows at you strictly. “Now, I can get you that visit. I’ll call my attorney first thing tomorrow, but… really, honey, do you need me to call someone for you? Who are these friends?”

Her voice is familiar, and it’s kind, which makes it all the more painful. It’s strange, seeing the resemblance between her and the Green Goblin, and it makes a part of you ache. Your life wasn’t the only one torn apart by Gwen. In fact, her mother probably faced the worst of it. With her husband being long gone, her oldest son away at college, youngest withdrawn after her daughter became a homicidal maniac, who did she really have left? Who was looking after Helen Stacy?

You smile at her, as best as you can without tearing up, and reach out to grasp her hand, which she readily accepts. “I’m okay, Mrs. Stacy, I… It’s just a few friends of my dad, from his home town. Their kids, too. It’s better than being put in the system.” You tell her, and can only hope that she believes you. You have no way to back up these lies, knowing those friends of your father don’t exist.

“You could’ve stayed here, you know?” She says, teary and squeezing your hand so tightly you can hear your bones creaking. You smile sadly at her.

“You’re a much stronger person than me, Mrs. Stacy. I couldn’t even face my dad’s funeral, let alone be around the memories of somebody I lost. This place, it—it reminds me of her.” You explain, voice shaking as you hold back your own tears, swallowing them down and trying to breathe through the ache in your throat.

The way her heart breaks is almost loud enough for you to hear it, but she nods her head understandingly, regardless. “Of course,” She says, nodding still, “But know you always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay.” You respond, heart clenching so tightly you’re not sure it can pump your blood any longer.

“Now, what’s your number? Your old phone was disconnected.” She says, shaking her tears away to pull out a pad and pen from the coffee table. She sets the notepad against her knee, looking expectantly toward you.

“Oh, right,” You stutter, teeth chattering as you comb your mind for the number of your burner phone. “There was a mixup, because it was in my dad’s name.” You explain needlessly, still searching your mind for the answer. Finally, you remember it. You listen to her ballpoint pen scrape along the paper as she writes the numbers as you say them, and then she clicks the pen off after writing your name beside it, underlining it twice.

“How about I give you a call with the details of your visit, okay, honey?” She asks, nodding with a pleased hum at your affirmative. “Good. Stay for dinner, okay? I’ve missed you.”

Who are you to deny her that?

Though, even as you try to pretend that you help to set up the table for her benefit, and as you hug Gwen’s little brother tightly when he comes home for his, you know, deep down, that it’s for you. That this is a moment of selfishness that you’ll let yourself have, because god, you deserve it, don’t you?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It’s thirteen days post Spider Society discovery, and you’re starting to regret the way you discarded that watch so carelessly. Not because you want to be a part of some cult of superheroes, but because you wish you had asked some more questions.

Surely Miguel O’Hara must’ve known a way to stop these villains from appearing in other universes? And if he did, had he already implemented whatever it was to stop Gwen escaping again? How exactly did she escape the first time? Was it a coincidence? Is there somebody out there, working behind the scenes, helping her get out?

You, unfortunately, have no way to answer any of the burning questions nagging at the back of your head. While a part of you hopes that you never see any of the Spider Society weirdos again, you also desperately want answers. Especially if it meant you could call off your visit to Gwen Stacy.

But the day arrives as any other does, and you spend every moment before the drive over to the prison desperately hoping that one of the Spider-people will show their face. None of them do, and you’re left to get into Mrs. Stacy’s car and simply brace for the journey ahead.

You’re pretty sure that swinging would be quicker, or easier, but you had no way to explain that way of transport to an interrogating Mrs. Stacy, and so you had to relent to her insistence on driving you. Now, you sit here, shifting in the seat of the car, uncomfortable without your suit underneath the clothes you used to wear on a daily basis. Even the knowledge that it’s stuffed into the bottom of your tattered backpack in the boot of Mrs. Stacy’s car doesn’t bring you any comfort.

Instead, the rough material of an old jacket has your skin crawling like you were being bitten by a thousand mosquitos, and the trousers on your legs itch like you’re allergic to them.

You suppose, really, that the spider bite that gave you so many powers had to have more drawbacks than just destroying your life. It only makes sense that your heightened senses would extend to the receptors on your skin. It makes every movement in these clothes torturous, and you wonder if it had always been this way, or if you were just so unused to wearing your old style of clothes. Either way, you hope that you won’t have to wear them for much longer.

If it all goes to plan, you should be in and out of the prison, just ensuring that Gwen Stacy is actually in the cell as she’s supposed to be. Then you just have to endure the fifty minute drive back to the city with Mrs. Stacy, and you’re free. You won’t have to wear these clothes again, won’t have to use your name, no — you can just sink back into the half life that is being Arachnid. It’s better that way.

“Okay, honey, here we are.” Mrs. Stacy says at last, having shifted her car into park. She pointedly avoids looking at the looming high-security prison ahead, instead focusing on you as you wipe your sweaty palms against your trousers. “Now you take as much time as you need in there, alright? I’ll be just out here, if you need me.”

You smile tightly at her, nodding with what you hope is more of a grateful expression rather than a grimace. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacy, really. I appreciate it, more than you know.”

That much was true — after all, it wasn’t like you could tell her that she was allowing the vivid paranoia you had been experiencing to be put to rest after her daughter escaped to another universe. Mrs. Stacy, from what you could gather, didn’t even know that Gwen had been missing for any amount of time. She had no idea what Gwen had done, how many more people she had hurt, but you assured yourself that it was better that way. Mrs. Stacy already had to deal with plenty, and that knowledge surely wouldn’t help.

She was already dealing with her own grief and feelings on the situation, as well as trying to support her two sons in the matter. Given what Gwen’s little brother had asked of you when he found out about you visiting her, you knew that he hadn’t been to visit Gwen, either. It seemed that he wasn’t coping with it all very well.

“Of course, you’re family. You should know that by now.” She says, smiling with teary eyes, reaching across the console to grasp your hand tightly in her own.

Her words take a stab at your chest, especially considering what had happened to everybody else who had seen you as family. Dead parents, villainous best friend — it really didn’t bode well for your loved ones. You just reassured yourself with the fact that you’d be able to disappear as soon as the two of you returned to the city. You couldn’t put her in any danger, that way, or her remaining kids.

“I’ll—I’ll see you after, okay?” You respond, squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go and throwing open the car door, getting out and catching a slither of Mrs. Stacy’s surprised reply before you shut the car door.

There are guards waiting for you at the gates, checking you are who you say you are, scanning you for weapons before you even get in the building. They’re satisfied after their searches, content that you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon into a highly secure prison. You keep your focus on your breathing as they walk you in, handing you clothes to change into as well as a box to put all of your belongings in.

The scrub-like clothes they give you are even worse than your own, sending shivers up and down your spine at the feeling of each fibre scraping against your skin. You just try to breathe through it. Luckily, the rest of the security checks blur by, which means less time spent on agonising over this visit. You barely hear a word of the statement they read to you before you go in, and your hand cramps as you write your signature against a dotted line of a waiver. All of the other legal things were sorted out by Mrs. Stacy’s lawyer, which you are more than thankful for.

Instead of having to deal with that, you just have to wait.

You think that the waiting might be the worst part of it all. With the scrubs making your hairs raise and promoting uncomfortable shivers up and down your body, as well as the cold metal seat that they sat you on, you’re far too aware of everything around you. You can hear the hundreds of heartbeats in the buildings, the beeping of security doors, the footsteps heading your way. You can smell the coffee that the head guard in the adjoining room to the one you’re in is drinking, as well as the day-old sandwich in his desk. Worst of all is the way your own heartbeat is thrumming in your throat, padding harshly against your chest, so loud in your own ears that it slowly starts to drown out everything around you.

Gwen’s footsteps are heavy, accompanied by the clinking of the chains she’s shackled in. You can practically hear the maniacal laughter that had come from her whilst in that alternate dimension, even though she’s completely silent as she enters the room.

She smiles at you when you look up, and for a moment you’re fooled — it’s soft, gentle, kind. But then you see the glimmer in her eyes that was distinctly not Gwen, and you feel the scar along your side throbbing with phantom pain.

You smile tensely at the guards, who regard you with looks of gentle concern and caution, before they attach her chains to a link on the floor beside a chair three metres away from where you sit. They nod at you, which you return, and you watch as they go and take their positions beside the door before you move your eyes back to the elephant in the room — which is Gwen Stacy.

“So, you missed me?” She asks, baring her teeth in a grin that has too much teeth to be anything friendly. Gwen regards you closely as you stare at her, watch for any signs of flickering, any signs that this isn’t real. Her brows raise slowly, the longer you’re silent, but you’re in no hurry to talk. “No? Is that not it?”

“Sure, I miss you.” You respond after another stretch of silence, tilting your head to study her more closely. You don’t acknowledge the way that your voice shakes as you speak, the way it comes out in something closer to a croak before you swallow harshly against your dry throat. “Thought I’d come to check in.” You add, brows furrowing to make sure she gets your true meaning.

“Ah,” She voices, then laughs, shoulders shaking, chains clanking loudly against her metal chair. “I get it, now.”

Gwen doesn’t add anything else after that, even though you suspected that she may take this opportunity to loudly claim that you were Arachnid, outing your identity once and for all. Apparently, if she does want to out your identity, she doesn’t want to do it like this, as she stays silent until you speak.

You sit forward on your chair, ignoring the way the guards at the edges of the room shift uneasily at your movement. “Your mom arranged this for me, you know?” You say, eyebrow raised. She probably knows what you’re doing, or what you’re trying to do, but she doesn’t voice it. Instead, she just shifts to lean backwards in her own chair, sighing as if relaxing.

“Hmm, so she can visit.” Gwen says, nodding her head as if it’s all making sense now.

“She can, she just doesn’t want to. Neither does Georgie.” You respond, and find satisfaction in the way her eyes flash at the mention of her little brother, the nickname that the two of you both used to call him. She recovers quickly, but you can tell that she knows it wasn’t quick enough. The Green Goblin cracked, right in front of your very eyes. It’s proof that, if anything, her little brother has some meaning. “He wanted me to tell you something.”

Her head tilts across from you, though she doesn’t move from her laid back position.

You clear your throat, and look at the words you’d written on your skin. She tilts her head forwards the slightest amount, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the guards who look just as uncomfortable as you feel. “He said that he misses his Gwenny, but he doesn’t want you coming home.” You stare at her as you repeat his message, the one he had told you nervously, as if he was truly afraid that Gwen would escape and come back. Her eyes twitch as she focuses on keeping her expression cool, but you know that the words have hit something in her, even if it’s part of the Green Goblin. “Looks like you even ruined your own family.”

You’re up on your feet as she lurches forwards, flung backward from where she tried to go against her chains to rush toward you. The guards are in front of you in mere moments, but you weren’t in any danger. Not as long as she stayed in here.

It’s almost satisfying, to see her chained up. It’s so different to seeing the Green Goblin on the outside, where she could be your Gwen Stacy. Whereas in here, bound by chains of heavy metal, clothed in uncomfortable looking prisoner scrubs, she was nothing but the Green Goblin. It was reassuring, almost, to be able to pick apart something physical between the two.

She bares her teeth at you, animalistic in a way that Gwen never was, and glares at you as you follow one of the guards out of the room, the others closing in on her, ready to take her back to whatever cell she came from.

The clothes you wear become less overbearing as you keep your focus on the guards taking Gwen away the whole way back through security, only switching back to your surroundings when they hand you the tray of your own belongings to change back into. You’re relieved for many reasons, and you try to focus on that feeling as you approach Mrs. Stacy’s car rather than the way your jacket itches.

Mrs. Stacy looks as if she wants to speak as you get in the car, as if she wants to ask about your visit, but she seemingly can’t bring herself to do it. You keep your mouth shut.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Not a month later, your daily activities are back to normal, uninhibited by the daunting idea of Gwen being free. Still, though, you think about her more often, as much as you did in the time after she was put away the first time.

Mrs. Stacy had tried to call you more than once since, and at the two week mark you’d had to invest in a new burner phone. You just couldn’t risk anybody getting a hold of it and seeing her contact, or the ringer going off and exposing your position in a fight. No, it was better for her not to have your number. Besides, you had hers memorised if you needed to call her.

It was better if you tried to reduce any connections to Gwen Stacy. You’d be much better off, the less you thought about her.

Despite knowing that, you couldn’t help it. And despite seeing that crack in the Green Goblin exterior at her little brother’s words, you didn’t have much hope for her. You don’t think they’d let her out of prison even if you could find a cure, somehow. The fact of it was that Gwen Stacy’s life was over. She had no hope of a future in this world, the Goblin had destroyed that. All you could do was remember her and hope beyond anything that in one of those alternate dimensions, you and Gwen were happy together.

The thought of it played on your mind every day, a lingering pain that stung at your eyes. You thought about it so much that you had even imagined the world where Gwen had never become the Goblin, where you and your Gwen were happy. It was a suffocating image, one without any hope of being true, but you couldn’t help thinking about it.

Even as you fought villain after villain, petty criminal after petty criminal, you thought about it. Even now, as you were swinging around a bridge, dodging all the debris this villain was throwing your way, it played on your mind.

It was a distraction, and it was one you needed to get rid of.

That much became certain as the villain you were facing, Tombstone, managed to get a hit on you, sending you flying across the bridge. You landed on a car with a groan, the windshield cracking below you, and you rolled your eyes as the person in the car held a hand on their horn until you managed to climb off, a distinct Arachnid-shaped dent left in the bonnet.

Well, that would be aching tomorrow, that much was for sure.

He grinned where he was stood across the bridge from you, showing off his filed teeth, as if trying to intimidate you with the pointy edges of them.

“You’ve been a formidable foe, Arachnid,” Tombstone says, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, but you can hear him perfectly. You suspect he knows as much, and that only makes you nervous. “But I think it’s time for our battle to come to an end.”

“I actually agree.” You respond, stretching your aching back and feeling a bone shift when it definitely shouldn’t. You can’t help but wince, gritting your teeth and glaring over at Tombstone across the bridge.

You’re getting tired of these villains, of their constant spiel about how the world should be, about how everything should be how they wanted it to be. What was so wrong with the human population that everybody couldn’t just get along? Surely, if everybody got along, listened to each other, the world’s problems would be solved. But then again, this is New York, and it’s a city in which greed is bred.

A light press against your webshooter has you slinging high up on the bridge, staring down at Tombstone as he watches you intently. You’re planning your next move, considering all the variables, when a burst of orange manifests into the air behind him. He looks confused as you falter in your web slinging, dropping slightly before you catch yourself, and he turns around just in time to receive a curled fist to the face, courtesy of a familiar man in a red and blue suit.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You murmur, lowering yourself to the bridge to approach this Spiderman, glaring at where Tombstone stands, straining against a red barrier that had materialised from the device Spiderman had placed at his feet.

“I hate that guy!” The familiar voice of Peter B. Parker says, shaking his fist as he hops slightly from one foot to the other, his lenses squinted before he finally turns to acknowledge you. “That guy sucks.”

Your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted behind your lenses as you stare at Peter, confused. This Tombstone guy isn’t an anomaly, is he? While you hadn’t faced him before, you knew that there had been a battle between him and another vigilante down in Hell’s Kitchen. And he knew your name, hadn’t been calling you Spiderman like the last anomaly. So why was he here?

Peter sighed, as if he was disappointed to be met with your confusion. “You got a place, kid? Or a burger joint, maybe?”

With that same amount of confusion, you nodded, brows furrowed as cops came to collect Tombstone, who was still in a fit of rage. You can just barely hear him swearing to get you back, both of you, through the barrier. Peter gestured a hand forwards for you to lead the way, and with slight hesitation, you swung off with him following.

Now, the two of you are sat in a Shake Shack, despite you wanting to head back to the offices you were set up in. Peter had ordered two burgers, one for you and one for him, though you had decidedly rejected the one he pushed towards you. He had only shrugged, and accepted it onto his own plate.

“My wife’s pregnant, can’t even stand the smell of these.” Peter groans, stuffing what must’ve been at least a quarter of the burger in his mouth. You just nod at his statement, though you had to admit you were slightly surprised that this guy was going to be a dad. But then again, you’re pretty sure you can remember your dad scoffing down his favourite food in a similar way. “Now listen,” He continues, speaking with his mouthful and paying you no mind as you cringe at the sound. “Miguel wants to strike a sort of… deal with you.”

“Okay?” You respond, brows furrowed. You look around the place, uncomfortable with all the people staring at Arachnid in a booth beside an old man stuffing his face. The lenses of your mask squint with you as you look at Peter, waiting for him to add anything on to explain his statement. “Then why’d he send you?” You ask, at last, when Peter makes no move to speak of his own free will, too engrossed in his second burger.

Peter held up a finger, gulping down a sip of his strawberry milkshake. “Said something about this being good practice for me,” Peter eventually answers, flashing you a smile. “You know, being a new dad and all.”

He seems to realise quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as your eyes narrow further, visible only through the shift of your lenses. The last thing you need is some random guy trying to father you. Even just the idea of it irritates you, makes the very blood rushing in your veins feel hot with anger. You had a dad, and look what good that did you. He’s gone.

Not to mention the implication of you being a child! You’re far from being a kid. You’ve been looking after yourself for some time now just fine. Whatever deal Miguel wants to strike with you is because they need you. Not the other way around. You knew that you shouldn’t have let that Spider-doctor fix you up.

“I’m not some kid. I don’t need you lot, you need me. Don’t get it all twisted, Peter.” You respond as he continues to look like a deer in headlights, clearly kicking himself for revealing what Miguel had said. You keep your voice low, fighting to stay unheard with the quietened air in the diner. “Now hurry up and tell me about whatever bullshit deal you want to strike with me, so I can say no and we can go our separate ways.”

“Kid,” Peter sighs, before immediately wincing as he realised he just directly disregarded your statement about not being a kid. “Sorry, Arachnid,” He corrects, settling his hands on the table in front of him, finally taking a break from his almost-finished food. “Nobody’s saying you can’t do this.”

“Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.” You mutter, averting your eyes from Peter and instead narrowing your lenses at the people still staring in your direction.

“All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” He continues, ignoring your interruption with nothing but a quirked brow. “It’s a tough job. Everybody needs someone to look out for them, you know? It’s in our nature to feel responsible for everything around us, as Spider-people. But you can’t carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s too much!”

You stare blankly at him, remaining unimpressed with his whole speech.

Peter sighs once more, looking at you with hesitant hope that you’ll come around. Unfortunately, you’re not about to let these people think that you’re incapable. If anything, Peter’s little speech was just adding fuel to your fire. You liked proving people wrong — it’s what you thrived on. You needed to prove them wrong. Because if you didn’t, what did that make you? You couldn’t let people be right about their assumptions of you. If you couldn’t prove everybody wrong, then that meant some of the things people said about you were right. And with the amount of people who accused you of being responsible for more deaths than you saved, who portrayed you as a menace rather than a vigilante, who said you weren’t worthy of your powers, who said whatever divine intervention had given them to you was wrong, you couldn’t let them be right. You wouldn’t.

“I already told you people. I’m not interested.” You spit out at him, feeling your frustration brimming over the edge. Why would nobody just trust you? Was that so much to ask? You understand that you had made mistakes, that you had cost people their lives, but you were trying. Why couldn’t that just be enough?

Peter says nothing as you slide out of the booth, stomping your way out of the Shake Shack as if you were some kind of grumpy teenager. He could only hope that his unborn child was a less grumpy teen, but then again, he was pretty sure you had every right to be miserable. Correcting himself, he could only hope that his unborn child never experienced your reasons for being so miserable.

You make your way towards your office building, swinging through the streets whilst doing your best to keep your heightened hearing down. You really didn’t want to have to deal with anything else, tonight. All you wanted was to get back, to put on the only clothes other than your suit that didn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. Even if it was just for an hour, you’d take it.

While you had gotten used to how quiet it was in the building a long time ago, you couldn’t help but think that tonight, it felt almost… eerie. There was something tingling, buzzing at the very base of your skull, but even as you strained your hearing, your sight, everything, you couldn’t detect anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, so you couldn’t understand why you were so on edge! It couldn’t just be Peter’s presence, surely, because he posed no threat to you. So what was going on?

Picking up your backpack filled with belongings, you stared around at the empty office, the breeze that flowed through the open window sending a shiver down your spine, even though you weren’t feeling cold. Something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Hello? Anybody there?” You call out, straining your hearing once more, trying to listen out for even the slightest sound. A movement, a breath, anything, even as you couldn’t help but think that this was the most cliché horror movie like moment that you had experienced to date. Still, you heard nothing, but that nagging feeling didn’t dissipate, and you quickly lost all desire to change out of your suit.

The unease you felt only grew stronger as you stood there, unsure what to make of the feeling. It was quickly growing towards being overwhelming, but you didn’t know what to do.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have to make a decision.

Unfortunately, the decision was made by one of the very people you were trying to prove yourself to.

Peter B. Parker — or at least, you were pretty sure it was him — swung through the very same window you had, only to grasp a hold on your arm and pull you out of the window as he jumped straight back out of it.

Now, you had been Arachnid for a long time now. You had gotten used to the swinging, to the way your stomach dipped and your throat tightened, but you had never experienced it where you weren’t the one in control. Finally, you understand why people you brought to safety had, on occasion, thrown up immediately after you set them down on their feet again. The feeling of falling, of having no choice but to trust somebody else to catch you, it was terrifying.

But what was infinitely more terrifying was the way that the very floor of the building you had just been stood on exploded.

The blaze was blinding, even with your lenses protecting your eyes, but the noise that came moments later was much, much worse. And sure, you had been around explosions before, but never one that big, never so close. And never so unprepared for one.

Your ears were ringing, and you vaguely realised that you had become dead weight in your shock, with Peter struggling to keep his grasp on your arm firm. After a moment, you had the sense to grab his forearm in return, trying to assist him in holding you up. He didn’t seem as effected by the explosion in comparison to you, and you wondered if he’d had the time to put earbuds in his ears as you had sometimes done before a fight. Either way, you were insanely envious as the pain in your ears increased, leaving you struggling to focus on holding on to Peter.

When he set you down, which couldn’t have been more than a minute after he had grabbed you, considering you could still see the office building smouldering, you had to hold a hand over your mouth even over your mask, trying to rid yourself of nausea. Smoke was leaking into the darkening sky, and you saw the flash of sirens below, but heard nothing other than the distinctive ringing that felt like it was melting your brain.

Peter’s hand was squeezing your shoulder, and after a moment in which you didn’t acknowledge him, he was gripping your other shoulder with his spare hand, shaking you the slightest bit. You looked up at him with a groan, squinting past the floating lights in your vision to see that his mouth was moving, no sound coming out. You shook your head, trying to get rid of that incessant ringing, but it didn’t work. You dropped your chin to your chest again, hands bracing against your ears as if they could ease your pain, and you didn’t make a move as Peter removed one hand from your shoulder.

Mere moments later, the same tingling you had felt before the building you were in exploded returned, stronger, more intensely. Your head snapped up, frantically looking around, paying Peter no mind as he spoke into the orange-glowing watch on his wrist. You breathed through your nose, trying not to cough at the smoke permeating the air, and you just managed to push Peter over the edge of the roof of the building, with you diving after him, as another explosive went off.

That explosion was smaller than the last one, and the only reason you had managed to avoid it was because you knew it was coming. You knew what the alarm bells in your head were trying to tell you now, and you spotted the projectile just seconds before it reached your feet.

Part of you was glad that your senses were dulled from the first explosion — your hearing, especially, as it meant you were less effected by the close-range on this one. You saw Peter’s eyes widen as he looked up above you at where the explosion had just occurred. You just about managed to web him before shooting a web towards the next building, feeling something in your shoulder pull sharply with his extra weight and the suddenness of the move.

You squinted down at him as he gripped the web attached to his chest with one hand, his lips moving more frantically as he spoke to a hologram projected by the watch on his other hand.

“Shit, what is going on?” You asked, though mostly to yourself, but the only way you could tell you had even voiced the words was by the way they rumbled out of your throat. That explosion had messed up your hearing, for the moment, anyway, and you quickly realised that with your slow healing and the ringing in your ears, this fight was going to be majorly difficult.

You only had a moment to think that, before something snapped the web that was holding you to the building, sending both you and Peter falling through the air. Embarrassingly, you’re pretty sure that you let out a yell of some sort.

All the air was knocked out of you the next second as something hurtled into you, sending you careening towards the windows of the closest building. Peter, for a moment, had a shocked expression on his face, before he seemingly realised what was going on, smiling and letting out a string of words that you didn’t hear. You groaned as your sore back collided with the window, smashing upon your impact, and you were sent sprawling over a desk, a monitor breaking underneath your sudden weight.

Yet again, there was a hand against your shoulder, and you paid it no mind as your head dropped back, thudding against the desk. You couldn’t help but groan, the duress that your back had been under today was certainly taking its toll, leaving your whole spine throbbing with pain. On top of that, you were struggling to catch your breath, and with the sudden adrenaline provided by the spider-sense fading, the intensity of the pain in your ears was increasing.

Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open to see a concerned Peter B. Parker looking at you, with Miguel O’Hara stood beside the shattered window, staring out menacingly, as if daring whoever it was to attack again. Peter said something else, squeezing your shoulder, and all you could do in response was hold up one thumb.

Miguel seemingly barked out an order over his shoulder, and a moment later, you were squinting against the bright orange light of a portal.

Peter was hauling you to your feet, leaning to hold one of your arms over his shoulder, practically carrying your weight towards the portal looming ahead. “No, no, wait,” You said, and you felt the way your words slurred as you became slightly delirious with a mixture of pain, adrenaline, and desperation. “Stop, I gotta—”

He only shook his head, before tipping the two of you forward until you both fell into the portal.

The dizzying feeling of inter-dimensional travel definitely didn’t help the pounding in your temples, nor the nausea you had previously been feeling, and you had no choice but to try and focus on Peter’s grip on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. When the world finally stopped spinning, or feeling like it was falling away around you, you opened your eyes just enough to take note of where you were — which was back in the Infirmary of the Spider Society HQ.

You shook Peter off, standing on your own weight and waving him away when he tried to assist you as you swayed once more. You glared, eyes narrowed, and turned to head straight back through the portal you had come from, only to see it close before your very eyes.

The same Spider-Doctor from the last time you were here snapped a band around your wrist, and you squinted down at the red and blue band. It made you feel lighter, even slightly, which felt good on your aching bones and muscles. You opened your mouth to speak as the Spider-Doctor led you to sit down on an empty bed with white sheets, but you vaguely saw the way his mask shifted as he presumably spoke. You couldn’t tell what he was saying with his mask on, but a minute later, you felt a sharp prick against the inside of your elbow.

You just about had the lucidity to murmur “You fucker—” before you succumbed to the weight of your eyelids.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When you woke up, it was to a throbbing pain in your forehead, that only got worse when you tried to open your eyes. At the very least, you were glad to have your hearing returned to you, albeit slightly muffled, which you were only aware of because the sound of voices across the room was the reason for you waking.

“I’m just saying, maybe knocking the kid out wasn’t the greatest idea!” Peter B. Parker’s annoyingly loud voice says, slightly high pitched in the end. Who he was saying it to, however, you couldn’t say, not without opening your eyes. And that didn’t feel like a good idea, the lights even with your eyes closed feeling like too much.

Instead, you just groan, bringing your hand up to rest over both of your eyes. “It wasn’t a great idea.” You say through gritted teeth, more than annoyed over the situation you found yourself in. Honestly, what did these people have against leaving you be? Why did they think they had any right to tell you what to do, or how to handle things, or to overrule you when it came to your own treatment?

“Hey, kid!” Peter responds, drawing the letters out in that typical oh shit voice. From the snippet of the conversation you had caught, at least he was seemingly trying to advocate for your consciousness. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was there when that Spider-Doctor knocked you out. No, you were still pissed. And when you got your hands on that doctor? He was in for it.

Any other thoughts or feelings on the matter were overturned when you realised that your hand was resting over your eyes, not the lenses of your mask.

Who do these people think they are?

You open your mouth to jump into a rant on that exact subject, on the audacity that they all have, but find yourself silenced by somebody grabbing onto your free wrist, and seemingly dropping your mask into your hand. You feel it until you’ve got it the right way around, and then pull it over your face.

The lights are much more bearable with your lenses back over your eyes, but it’s still painful, and still worsens that pounding in your head. But it does mean that you can see who’s around you; Peter, Miguel and the Spider-Doctor. You have half the mind to leap at that doctor, but Miguel is raising placating hands in your direction before you can make the move to do so.

“Let’s all calm down.” Miguel says, placing his hands on his hips when your eyes only narrow at him.

“What is wrong with you? Who gave you people the right to—to take off my mask? To knock me out? Hell, to come to my universe and get in my business!” You practically yell out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way your back hurts with the movement and glaring when the three of them step forward to help you.

“If Peter hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would’ve died.” Miguel responds plainly, seemingly aggravated by your irritation. One of his arms is raised in a gesture towards the man, who smiles almost guiltily, as if helping you was a crime. Which, in your mindset, it might as well have been. “There was an anomaly, a villain from another dimension targeting you.”

“I can handle myself.” You spit out, though the way the room spins when you stand is almost a direct contrast to your words. Your blood is rushing through your veins, and you realise that there’s a machine beeping next to you, increasing in frequency. As you look, you realise it’s measuring your heart rate, and you yank wires off of you that you hadn’t even noticed before, as if they were exposing you somehow. “And that doesn’t give you the right to take off my mask. Who does that?”

Spider-Doctor raises his hands, as if surrendering, though seems unintimidated by the way your glare switches to him. “It was necessary. Your hearing was severely damaged by the explosion, you needed treatment. You have dampening-buds in your ears now, while your healing catches up.” While that sounds reasonable, it only makes you angrier. Why did these people even care if some anomaly killed you? If your hearing was damaged? Why did they insist on bothering you?

Miguel sighs, pinching his nose, before he lifts his head up to speak to you again. You just about stop yourself from making a snotty comment about his attitude. You didn't even want to be here, and here he was, acting like dealing with you was such an inconvenience to him. It was frustrating. “Your universe seems to be at some sort of epicentre of anomalies, and we don’t know why. Yet.”

“We’re just trying to keep you safe. You can’t deal with all of those anomalies alone, nobody can. Sometimes, you need a team.” Peter says softly, like he could convince you of the matter. “Believe me, you don’t want to learn that the hard way.” He adds on, smiling almost hesitantly, as if there’s a memory he’s thinking of connected to his own words.

You’re sighing through your nose, your teeth gritting together as you regard them. “Okay, fine, you want to come take out your anomalies, or whatever? You do that. But anything more than that isn’t welcome.” You say, at last, your eyes narrowed towards them as you wait for their responses.

You still don’t really understand it, any of it, but it’s becoming clear that you have no choice but to deal with these people. Apparently, they were not budging on all of this stuff, which — fine, so long as they stay out of your way. The last thing you need is a bunch of Spider-people stepping on your toes, or making you seem incapable in front of the citizens of your own dimension when in the end, they’ll all up and leave.

After all, you can remember your mother telling you how important it is to do things yourself. The moment you start accepting help, you relax, and when they decide they don’t want to help you anymore? You’re screwed, your sense of independence reduced to ashes. And as Arachnid, there’s far too much at stake to risk that happening.

“Here,” Miguel says, only nodding his agreement — or at least, that’s what you assume the nod was for. He throws a watch towards you, and you catch it with some confusion. “In case you see any anomalies before we do.” He explains as he watches you fiddle witht he watch in both hands, glaring down at it as if it was offensive. He’s relatively satisfied when you relax at that explanation. While Miguel doesn’t voice what else it’s for, knowing you’d only get irritated and refuse the watch, he’s silently hoping that you’ll understand. It’s so you can come to them, if you need them. They can only hope that they’ll be able to tell you that, one day, before it’s too late, without the offer scaring you off.

“So, I’m good to go?” You ask, looking between the three Spider-Men still staring at you and the watch you hesitantly clasp around your wrist. They nod, or, Peter and Miguel do, while the Spider-Doctor throws his hands in the air, exasperated.

“That dimension is yours,” Peter says, leaning over to see the screen of your watch. “The button at the bottom will input this dimension as the destination. Just press that,” He points to another button, “To open the portal to whichever dimension has been typed in.”

You nod, still pissed that he’d let the Spider-Doctor knock you out, but at least you didn’t give him a snarky comment. Instead, you just pressed the button to go back to your own dimension, and stepped through the portal the moment it was big enough for you to go through.

You didn’t expect for him to follow you through.

“Hey, listen,” Peter says, almost reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to upset you. When you turn to him, he raises his hands, as if to further prove that sentiment. “I am sorry that he knocked you out, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“Okay, fine, apology accepted.” You say, flatly, turning to survey where exactly you are. It doesn’t take you long to notice the remains of the building you had been camping out in, the building charred and the air still thick with all the smoke that had been produced.

“I wasn’t done,” Peter sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose momentarily. “I also wanted to say that I’m sorry about your building. And I wanted to ask, well, mention about how when Doctor-Peter took off your mask, he noticed you don’t have anything protecting your ears, like other Spiders with your level of enhanced hearing do.”

You turn to stare blankly at him, while mulling through where exactly you’re going to stay in your head. If you’re being honest, you’re not paying his words much mind. So what, you don’t have anything protecting your hearing? Sure, sometimes you had stuffed earbuds into your ears when you knew you were going into a rough fight, but you didn’t know when some psycho exploded your building right in front of you. Plus, it’s not like you have unlimited resources to figure out some way of protected your ears under your mask while also letting you effectively use your hearing.

“Okay? And?” You ask, voice edging on the side of boredom. In all honesty, you just want to be left alone. You want to put on your comfy clothes, curl up into a ball and go to sleep so you can dream of a world where everything is okay. The likelihood of that happening is small, but not impossible, right?

“Well,” Peter hesitates then, which piques your interest the slightest bit. “Here, I had these made back when my hearing was crazy sensitive, but it’s not anymore, so I got no use for them!” He says, holding out two blue and red earbuds in a clear case. “You gotta wait until your ears are healed up to use ‘em, but I figured they’d do you more good than me.”

For a moment, you’re ready to deny him. To glare and insist that you don’t need his help. But then, he had said that they were originally for him, and he didn’t need them any longer, so really, would it be so bad to take them? To accept this one thing? To allow yourself to be saved of this tiniest bit of pain?

“You’re sure?” You ask, likely the least aggressive you’d spoken to him, though that’s not to say that it was asked softly. You were still firm on not accepting their help, on doing your own thing, but you could accept this much, surely? It couldn’t hurt.

Peter smiles, a short laugh leaving him, and he waves the box towards you. “I’m sure!”

“…Thanks.” You say, shortly, as you accept the earbuds offered to you. He also hands you the backpack that you had lost track of after the attack, and you accept that far more quickly. You’re glad that it feels the exact same weight as it did the last time you held it, before you shove the earbuds into the opening and zip it back up.

There’s a portal still open on the rooftop the two of you stand on, and Peter backs up to go towards it almost reluctantly. “Also, if you need somewhere to stay—”

“Don’t push it,” You respond, quickly, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying. He doesn’t take offence to your abruptness, and smiles with a nod, before he disappears into the portal. You stare out at the city around you, looking in the direction of another building you had been very reluctant to return to. “What is my life?” You ask yourself, rhetorically, because you don’t know how you’d even answer that.

You glance behind you to ensure the portal is closed, before jumping off the rooftop, freefalling, relishing in the way the cold wind soothes the pain in your back. Before long, though, you have to shoot a web to catch yourself. You head towards the only place you know will be suitable for you, but can’t shake the way the thought of it chills you.

All you can do is hope that this multiverse stuff will be over with, and soon.

[thebrawlerina]

wait have you done Cordelius headcanons (I KNOW THIS IS MY SECOND ASK I’MMSORRY)

Its okay! I asked for asks. Youre fine.

I think I've done a few HC's with him before, but that was in relation to Lily. I'm not gonna check to see what I have mentioned before so if something comes up twice there, then oh well.

Cordelius HCs

Cordelius was one a humble staff member of the park. He was hired to help the Botany trio of Rosa, Bea, and Sprout to help maintian all the plant life in the park.

Then one day his just disappeared. Most didn't realize he was gone because he was 'just a gardener' and those that did just assumed he quit without notice. How rude.

It was only months later that he was discovered, completely changed and having been trapped in some weird forest/alternate dimension thats encroching on the park. What.

Cordelius was somehow able to explain this all off and the management just. Didnt wanna think too much about it and deal with it so they just let it be. They later decided to make a safer part of that area into an actual attraction because money.

Cordelius' personality changed during his disappearance. While he can get really excitable about things, he was a lot more mild mannered before then. It was like his time there exaggerated his personality.

His name also got oddly changed. His name was Cornelius, and it says so on all the paperwork. But since he got back from the forest hes been insisting that everyone call him Cordelius, and has even updated his paperwork to reflect that.

He doesnt mind being called Cordy though. Which is a relief to the people who were just intimidated by his name.

The only ones who remember Cordelius begore he disappeared (among the brawlers) are the Botany Trio and Gale. Of them only Rosa knows what he looks like now under all his layers, since he wanted to see if there were any other sideeffects to his disappearance.

Cordy rarely removes his mushroom getup since it says it 'makes him one with the shroomies'

Cordy's face is among 'the great mysteries of the brawlers' which include stuff like whats under Otis' masks and the like. Hes gotten quite good at fending off other brawlers from getting to his mask.

Gale was actually good friends with Cordelius even before the incident and was really worried for him when he vanished.

Cordelius isnt one for puns, but he knows enough mushroom puns to fight someone in a pun battle if he gets dragged into one.

Even though mushrooms are his new favorite, he still knows how to deal and care for other plants. He even knows how to do flower arrangements!

Cordelius doesnt actually have a room in the park proper. He claims he has a home in the shadow realm, but others think that he just sleeps in the trash cans.

He is ALWAYS willing to show people around the shadow realm outside of battle. He gets really excited about it, it makes his whole week when someone visits.

[uummi]

Written for @dicktimweek 2023

Day 6: Time Travel | Slade’s apprentice meets Ra’s’ heir | Hero/Civilian AU

Words Count: 2136

Title: Hourglass

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Tim Drake

Warnings: Alternative Universe-Dimension Travel-Royalty Setting| Implied Talon Dick| Implied Memory Loss| Non-Consensual Drug Use| Character Death| Some Blood and Gore| Body Swap| Implied Grooming

Tim had no idea where he was

One second he was in the watchtower waiting for Bruce to finish his work and go home, the other second he was trying to hold down the antique-looking magic item coming towards him at top speed to prevent from breaking

Now he was standing in the middle of one of the open bazaar from bygone eras with shabby clothes, greasy hair that had obviously not seen water for a long time, and a coal-black soiled face

The surroundings were too colorful to be a normal day, and the front of people's doors were covered with different items that could be dedicated as food and offerings

Tim wanted to be able to stop one of the hundreds of people passing by for a moment and ask at what time or exactly where he was, but because there was a possibility of distorting the perception of time, he kept his mouth shut from telling everyone and continued walking without knowing where he was, while at the same time checking his body

Under all that mud and dust, he was himself again. The same eye color, the same hair structure, even this body had a stabbing mark where the spleen should have been

He sighed deeply and ran his fingers over his face to remove the blackness from his face. He wonder if there was any chance that he could find water or something from somewhere, he felt really dirty

And then he realized how wrong what he had done was because from the moment his thin hands returned to their normal points, the gaze of every person in the bazaar turned to him in a confused, excited, but mostly scared way

Okay, this was starting to get weird. He frowned slightly and opened his lips to speak

But before he had the opportunity to do so, a young woman grabbed him by the arm and ran into the nearest apartment building

After the woman locked the door behind her, she started looking at Tim with her irises full of tears and started wiping the dirt on his body with a napkin that she dipped into a bucket that she filled with water

'My poor prince, you have forgotten again, have you not? It happens like this every time. You manage to make it to the end of the town, but your mind goes crazy before you can reach the person who will save you. My prince, what are they doing to you in that palace?'

At the sight of Tim's uncomprehending gaze, the woman sighed again, and after pouring the blackened water down the window, she took a small pigeon in her hand. The pigeon had a bell-like item on its foot and would probably make a noise that would spread around every second it flew

The woman, on the other hand, let the animal free without caring and after watching it fly for a few seconds, took him to a room with only a bed in it and locked the door behind it

Before hanging up, she also mentioned that she apologized for everything and did not want to do this

Tim took his head between his hands and banged it against the wall in anger. He should have thought about it a little more before doing something

But right now Tim had to combine the information he had. If what the woman just said is true, the body he is in right now belonged to the prince of this country, so in addition to being in a parallel universe, he probably also traveled through time because the kingdom regimes have taken off from validity at least 100 years ago in his own time period

He took the tip of his thumb nail between his lips and began to hit his teeth with anger while thinking at the same time

The other thing he knew was that the woman looked like she was afraid for his health. She said he had forgotten, so the owner of the body must being given drugs inside the palace or a medicine that caused memory problems, so he was not safe

But these were all results that were found if he accepted that the woman was reliable, so there was no possibility of saying much

And what was the reason why she apologized to him at the last moment? No, something was going wrong, and if Tim wanted to come back, he had to find a solution

He needed to start making plans but there were screaming sounds coming from outside...

Tim stuck his head up in the air with a speed that hurt his neck and started banging on the door. There wasn't even a window in the damn room, so the only way out was this piece of wood, but no matter how much he hit it, it didn't do anything but hurt his hands

In order to put strength on his shoulder, he went to the far end of the room several times and ran towards the door. When he finally succeeded, he felt his stomach lift because of the scene he was facing

This image was too much even for him, who had seen too many murders, so he could not say anything to the fact that the woman he thought had just helped him was gagging at the far end of the wall and crying

There were five bodies lying on the ground, if he hadn't counted wrong. Most of them had their internal organs chopped up and dumped at different points in the house. One of them had his upper and lower body separated from each other, his eyes were open, looking towards Tim

In the middle of everything, there was a man wearing an owl mask and holding a double sword in his hands

As soon as the man saw him coming, he left the soldier's body that he continued to torture and took his small body between his arms, ignoring the bloodstains that covered his own entire body

For a moment Tim could not decide what he should do. He wasn't sure if the body he was in knew how to fight, and he couldn't have focused more attention on himself, and it wasn't clear if this man would have left the crying woman alive if he ran away

In short, he had to be kidnapped...

Damn it...

From the moment they left the door, if you threw an injection just half an hour ago it wouldn't fall out and right now there wasn't even a single person in the bazaar, Tim felt the feeling of tension in his stomach grow even greater, and he turned his eyes to the man who continued to carry him without saying a single word

He was looking too calm for someone who had just put five people through a coffin

And he was exuding a familiar aura...

Tim puckered his lips and did the only thing he could do at that moment, quickly threw his hand towards the mask that hid the face

He could tell from the instantly stiffening body that the young man had guessed his movement, but after receiving no reaction, he put the item down and was confronted with a face from which he understood where the feeling of familiarity came from

Dick was the same in every sense, except that his eyes, which were normally blue, were yellow. There was even a scratch mark starting from under his lip and extending to the tip of his nose that he received on the last mission, and this brought to Tim's mind the hypothesis of bodies with the same characteristics

Of course, yellow eyes spoiled the job a lot, but the story about the Court of Owls in Bruce's time and the weapons they created, called Talons, was not so surprising as the result

So the Dick Grayson of this universe must be a Talon

The question is, what was the task of the Court of Owls in this universe?

Since he was squinting and not pulling his suspicious gaze away, the fingers on his body have been getting tighter and tighter, reminding him again of the fact that Tim had to say something

Dick seemed to be in control, so it might have been wrong to call him Talon, while the name Richard had never attracted him, and he didn't think he wanted to be called that right now

Wait, in this universe, was his name even Tim?

He started gritting his teeth, his nerves were starting to break down

Why was the summary of his life story impossible to decipher before traveling between universes?

His luckiest bet would be to call out like he always does, so he opened his lips and asked while praying for everything to go normally and to get some more answers from inside

'Dick, what's going on?'

None of the things he wanted happened. Hearing his own name, his older brother frowned and then took Tim into one of the alleyways, hitting him to the wall. Due to the effect of the impact, before he was even allowed to hold his back, a sword was held to his throat

Well, it must be the wrong decision to say Dick and right now he was going to be killed here

He was the only one who did not join this caravan on his family anyway so Tim did not feel betrayed and he knows this is not a good thing...

He looked around and tried to find something to help him defend himself, but the place was so deserted that he could even see the flying dust wheel

He took a deep breath and looked into Dick's yellow eyes

Tim hope that he wouldn't upset the Dick of his time too much with being dead

Well, who was he kidding, if anything happened to Tim, Dick would make life hell for everyone and tried to come here to take his revenge

In the battle of glances between the two, the big body opposite him must had seen something that, the sharp tool was slowly lowered and inserted into the scabbard

'You're not my Timmy, but you also are in a way?'

Although he didn't know how he understood, he shook his head up and down to get rid of this situation and felt his own eyes begin to fill up on the sad looks he received

Dick has always had a structure that destroys his walls, and Tim would not feel the need to hide his feelings next to him

A hand was extended to him, and Tim took a deep breath, looking at the joined fingers

Although it goes against everything he was taught, he chose to trust Dick

Because no matter what, Dick was the center of his life and Dick had never let down his trust

But it wasn't his own Dick he was facing...

With the needle-style tool pressed against his neck, he felt a tremor that instantly entered his body and a decrease in the ability to move in his legs. Just before he fell, arms were wrapped around his waist and his head was pressed to the point where the non-beating heart was located

Tim realized that tears were forming from the salt water coming towards his lips, and although he wanted to talk, he couldn't, so he made a little whimpering sound

The body holding him stroked his hair and started to walk back the way they had just passed

He saw that the woman, who he thought was helping him for only a few seconds, took a bag of gold from Dick and retreated

'Long live our king'

Oh would you look at that...

The real owner of the body was trying to escape from Dick himself...

Nightwing was in the watchtower, cradled and held the Tim, who was having difficulty controlling himself. He stroked the body to calm him down and then he fixed his eyes on the magic item in front of him with frowning eyebrows

The person standing close to sleeping on his chest right now was not his own Timmy. Although everyone diagnosed it as stupor under the influence of magic and went back to work, Dick knew much better

And Tim couldn't go back to his own body, just as it was done to the body in front of him, so someone in the place where he is now tried to cut off the wings of his little bird

He made a sound like a snarl between his lips. For years, he had tried to get his little baby into his cage voluntarily, and now, when he was so close to his request, someone was poking at his work

This meant war...

[comicbookddr]

Etharah Fanfic - Chapter 3

Word count: 880 words

previous chapter | next chapter (will be updated soon!)

check out on ao3! chapter is under the cut

“Do you want popcorn?” Jane asked. 

“I don’t eat popcorn,” Erica said as she sat on Ethan’s couch, surrounded by people she only tolerated at best. 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t need popcorn.” She huffed. 

“Erica doesn’t know what she’s talking about, I need popcorn!” Rory said, reaching over her to grab the bowl from Jane’s hand. 

Benny reached over Rory and grabbed a handful from the bowl for himself, shoving shoving the popcorn into his mouth. 

“How does that work anyways?” He said while chewing. All 4 of them were squished onto the couch together and cramped shoulder to shoulder. 

“What are you talking about?” Erica said, scowling.  

“Like, where does the food go? Where does it go when you eat it?” 

Erica and Rory stared at him, both with completely different meanings behind their eyes. 

“That’s it! Two of you get off this couch right now!” 

Jane and Rory slipped down to the floor right as the opening titles of the movie started playing on the TV. Benny slid closer to Erica, which she responded to by pushing him to the other side of the couch with blunt force, knowing he got the message. 

“So… you do this every night?” Ethan asked, shoving his cold hands into the front pockets of his pants. 

“Usually every other day. They recommend a daily delivery, but I find it inconvenient,” Sarah responded. They slowly talked through the empty town, gliding across the glistening wet pavement of rains past. The street lamps were illuminated in the puddles, looking crystal clear, like they were portals to another alternate dimension. Sometimes Sarah found herself willing to jump through them, just to see what another life would look like for her, and if that’s something she would want. 

“I’m never out at this time of night,” Ethan said, looking up into the sky. He noticed the moon looked brighter when it wasn’t through the barriers of glass while peering through a curtain. 

“I wish that was the case for me. None of these vampire helpers work during the day,” Sarah said. She looked straight down at the sidewalk. 

There was a pause in their conversation as they ventured into a secluded playground. It was hidden by trees that had grown and warped themselves into a dangerous path most parents avoided taking their children through. It was clear that any aspect of childhood fun was long removed from the abandoned structure after the years of disrepair. The two climbed their way through the path to get to the other side. 

“I’m sorry for not believing you,” Sarah said to Ethan. She had already made it past the main root that blocked the main walkway, while Ethan was still struggling to climb over it. 

“It’s okay,” He said with a huff. Sarah put her hand out and helped him down from the tall ledge. 

“Benny and I searched. We figured whatever’s happening has nothing to do with my parents.” 

“But I was wrong to doubt you in the first place. I should never contradict your feelings.” 

“You weren’t doing that! I appreciate that you look out for me,” Ethan said. 

There was an old wooden mailbox nailed to a tree on the other side of the playground that the two started walking towards. 

“You know I always will. It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” She reassured him, which caused Ethan’s mind to wander into thoughts he wasn’t ready to fully examine. 

She used a key she had in her pocket and unlocked the wooden box. Ethan reached in to grab the container as an attempt to look much less scared than he actually was, which caused him to get a vision. 

Rory had resorted to fully covering his eyes from the screen as the movie reached its third act. 

“You’d think the gore would look more realistic considering this is a high budget film,” Benny said as he scoffed at the TV. 

“That blood is basically fuschia,” Erica agreed, shaking her head. 

“I don’t care how fake it is, I still don’t like it,” Rory said. 

“You’ve done and seen some of the most horrific things to people and animals in a way not many can understand, yet you’re terrified of this shitty ghost movie?” Benny said. 

“Ghosts scare me!” 

“You guys are the worst to watch movies with,” Jane complained. 

“When Sarah and Ethan watch movies with me, they always stay quiet and pretend to not stare at each other, which I like more than you guys.”

"You don't appreciate our witty banter?" Erica mocked. 

"Yeah! Or like how funny we are?!" Rory said after, not understanding he parrioted exactly what Erica already said. 

"You guys are not funny," Benny said, crossing his arms. 

"I am too!" Rory said. 

"No you are not," Erica chimed in. 

"Oh yeah? Check this out! Knock knock!" 

Erica and Benny sighed so loudly that Jane paused the movie and got up, going into the kitchen. The three bickering didn't seem to care or notice all that much. 

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked as she watched Ethan gasp for air and stumble to the floor. 

"It's my parents," He said through more gasps. "It felt like someone was gripping my throat." 

"Are you okay?" 

"Yeah… we need to go save them." 

Hey everyone! Sorry to leave it on a cliff hanger </3 I went a long time without updating so I guess this was me trying to spice it up a bit lol. Let me know what you think!

[jamisonblog]

Exploring Mobile Phone Skins and Design

In an era where our smartphones have become an integral part of our daily lives, it's only natural to want them to reflect our unique personalities and styles. Enter mobile phone skins, the ultimate accessory for personalizing and protecting your device. From sleek and sophisticated designs to bold and eye-catching patterns, phone skins offer a canvas for creativity like never before. In this blog, we delve into the world of mobile phone skins and explore the endless possibilities of phone skin design.

Mobile Phone Skin have gained immense popularity in recent years, thanks to their ability to transform the look of your device in an instant. Whether you're an iPhone aficionado, a Samsung enthusiast, or a loyal user of any other smartphone brand, there's a skin to suit your device. These skins are precision-cut to fit your phone's dimensions perfectly, ensuring a seamless finish that enhances its aesthetic appeal without adding bulk or weight.

One of the most exciting aspects of mobile phone skins is the sheer diversity of designs available. From elegant marble textures to whimsical floral patterns, there's something to suit every taste and preference. Whether you prefer a minimalist, monochromatic look or a vibrant, colorful design, the options are virtually limitless. With the rise of customizable skins, you can even create your own design or upload a favorite photo to be printed on your phone skin, adding a personal touch that sets your device apart from the rest.

But phone skins offer more than just aesthetic appeal—they also provide a layer of protection for your device. Made from durable vinyl or other high-quality materials, these skins act as a barrier against scratches, scuffs, and everyday wear and tear. Say goodbye to unsightly scratches on your phone's surface and hello to a device that looks as good as new, day after day. Additionally, many phone skins are designed with advanced adhesive technology, ensuring a secure fit that won't leave residue behind when removed.

When it comes to choosing the perfect phone skin design, the possibilities are endless. For fashion-forward individuals, there are skins featuring trendy patterns like animal prints, geometric shapes, and metallic accents. Tech enthusiasts can opt for skins inspired by their favorite gadgets, such as retro game consoles or vintage cameras. Meanwhile, nature lovers can bring the outdoors indoors with skins showcasing scenic landscapes, lush foliage, and majestic wildlife. With so many options to choose from, you can change up your phone's look to match your mood, outfit, or even the season.

But phone skin design isn't just about aesthetics—it's also about functionality. Many skins are equipped with features like textured grips or anti-slip coatings, providing added grip and stability when holding your phone. Others offer additional benefits like UV resistance, which helps prevent fading and discoloration over time. With these innovative features, phone skins not only enhance the look of your device but also improve its overall usability and longevity.

In addition to their practical benefits, Phone Skin Design also offers a sustainable alternative to traditional phone cases. Unlike bulky cases made from plastic or silicone, which can end up in landfills and contribute to environmental pollution, skins are often made from eco-friendly materials that are biodegradable or recyclable. By opting for a phone skin instead of a case, you can reduce your carbon footprint and make a positive impact on the planet.

In Summary, mobile phone skins are more than just a fashion statement—they're a versatile accessory that combines style, protection, and functionality in one sleek package. With their diverse range of designs and customizable options, phone skins allow you to express your individuality and make your device truly your own. Upgrade your phone's look and feel with a phone skin today and experience the art of personalization firsthand.

[snow-in-the-desert]

Dramione Recommendations

Ok so, 2020 has been A LOT but on a personal note one of the most surprising things to happen was me discovering Dramione fanfiction and becoming unashamedly obsessed with it. I really didn’t see that coming but I’m here now and I’m here to stay. 

I think I started reading in the Dramione fandom around mid July last year?? (In all honesty I’ve lost any true sense of time’s progression at this point so I could be well off the mark with that) And I’ve decided to compile a list of all my favourite fics I’ve read so far. Why? I really just want to gush over all the amazing writers I have found through this fandom because y’all deserve it. 

Side note: If any of the authors actually sees this post just dm so I can buy you coffee or post you writing supplies or something idk I feel like that’s the least I can do for all your amazing work x

Remain Nameless by @heyjude19-writing

Ok I have to start with RN because this fic is pretty much the sole reason I decided to create an account with A03 or a tumblr or just decided to get involved with this fandom at all. 

I headcannon this story hard. But I think even if you aren’t a fan of Dramione you should just read this because it is so unbelievably good and well written and poignant and Draco’s sarcastic personality in this is truly a thing of beauty in this - I relate to his inner monologue’s on a deep personal level. 

I could rave about this story any time, any day of the week, just ask me. In fact, maybe I’ll just start a HeyJude19 fan club to fulfill that urge.

There are so many elements that I love but for the sake of brevity, RN is a beautifully told story of Draco and Hermione finding love and healing in a post-war HP setting. Heyjude19 had the very special ability of making me want to simulatenously laugh, cry and swoon with the power of her words. Just stop what you are doing and go read it now if you havent already, ok?  

I also really enjoyed reading Bells on a Hill, Beers, Potions and Unwise Notions and A Shift in Focus, if you are looking for smaller fics, definitely give these a go. They are all funny and heartfelt stoires that will make your tippy toes wriggle with glee. 

The Rights and Wrongs Series by @lovesbitca8

The Right Thing To Do, All The Wrong Things and The Auction are the holy trinity of Dramione writing. I have christened it thus, so mote it be. And frankly I’m not interested in any other opinion than that one, thank you very much!

After reading this series I don’t think I’ll be able to look back on the orginal HP books without thinking of Hermione’s and Draco’s memories of their time at Hogwarts in these fics as anything other than strictly cannon. 

So many things to love about this series but I think one of the major highlights was Hermione and Draco’s use of occlumency. LoveBitca8 created such beautiful visuals with how occlumency works as a magical practice and seeing Draco and Hermione so devoted to eachother to the point of safeguarding their inner most feelings to protect eachother was unbelievably romantic and poetic. 

Also the smut is divine ;)

Manacled by @senlinyu​

My heart will never be the same after reading this story. Like I actually can’t think about this fic without getting a lump at the back of my throat. I have never felt so emotionally ruined after reading anything, compared to the likes of this fic. Just please, please read it. To badly quote HP, reading Manacled will make you suffer but you’re going to be happy about it.

The flashbacks are a rollercoaster in of themselves but the way Hermione inadvertently refers to them when she is still in a state of memory loss was so heartbreaking to read. My heart still aches for them both. Also its a truly satisfying to see Draco and Hermione written in a way were they are both so fiercly protective of one another. They make my insides go soft. 

I also really enjoyed Snow Fall, Now Is A Gift and All You Want by the author but to be honest anything written by Senlinyu is always thoroughly enjoyable and worth a look. 

The Erised Effect by @adaprix​

Ada is QUEEN of dramione smut but ‘The Erised Effect’ is top tier. Its equal parts funny, romantic, sentimental and oh so sexy. Ada really knows how to build and build on sexual tension and doesn’t disappoint on the final delivery. I’m a big admirer of her writing style and just veraciously read whatever she posts but ‘The Erised Effect’ is just golden. A must read. (Also Pansy’s sexual fantasy in this story is a visual I don’t think I’ll ever be able to remove from my brain so thanks for that Ada)

Also quick side note: Adaprix’ stories were the first I read when I was looking into this fandom and it was enough to get me hooked on the pairing from the get go so I have that to thank Ada for too. I remember devouring all the stories she had posted to A03 and when I was done I was like... now what am I supposed to do with my life?? And that’s basically when I began to look deeper into the fandom and thus the course of my life in 2020 changed for the better. 

Some other stories I love by her are Break for Me, All My Sins, The Big 4-0, The Fucklust Series and The Flat in Bath. 

Clean by @olivieblake​

This 6th Year AU where Draco and Hermione work together on a class assignment and end up falling in love had me feeling all kinds of ways when I read it. I almost don’t know where to start but I think one of the stand out things for me was how immersed I felt in reading it. 

Hogwarts is captured really well, you get a good sense of class atmospheres, character nuances and behind the scenes of events that happen in HBP but from a Draco and Hermione’s perspectives. It’s well executed and intricate tapestry of a fic. With an excellent plot twist ending! 

Also Hermione and Draco’s relationship in this is equal parts fluffy and smutty and it just ticks all the right boxes that you want to see for those characters ;)

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by @onyx-and-elm​

The angst in this one is just *chef’s kiss*

God I love this fic. The way Draco is portrayed is very true to his defensive and tetchy character in the original books but he is also given so much more depth. The way his diary entries are written are just so well executed. It’s a true testament to the author’s creative writing skill. And I LOVE how even though Draco is clearly in such a messed up place, he still has a basic level of self respect and dignity that he won’t tolerate being used or undervalued in his relationship with Hermione. 

Yep, I really love Draco’s characterisation in this one if you can’t tell.  But Hermione is also well written too. Her stuggles and trauma of returning to Hogwarts after war is described in a believable and grounded way. And my heart definitely ached for them both. I just wanted to wrap the pair of them in a big fuzzy blanket and tell them that everything will be alright. 

WANDS OUT! by @persephonestone​

This murder mystery / Dramione / Theo x Harry / AU crossover is everything I didn’t know I wanted until I read it. I felt like I was picked up and plonked right into an alternative dimension where all the characters of HP are just living it up in an Agatha Christie novel. 

It’s a funny and clever story that I found refreshing to read amongst all the other fanfics that are usually cemented in the HP timeline or universe. Theodore Nott in this fic is perfection he should be written like this in every fic from now on in my opinion. I couldn’t stop giggling any time he had a scene in the story.

And the ‘only one bed’ trope in this fic is 10/10. I don’t want to give spoilers but ohmygod. It hits all the right notes. 

The One With Technical Difficulties by cassielassie 

Cassielassie has an excellent three part series of Dramone called ‘The One with...” but I have to give special credit to this story in particular for one main reason. ELEVATOR TROPES. I can’t get enough of em. I think I have my early childhood viewings of NCIS to thank for my obsession with elevator tropes they just do something to me that simply cannot be explained with mere words. The palpable sexual tension of being in a broken down elevator with an ‘enemies to lovers’ pairing, a heated arguement breaks out followed by a discovery of mutual feelings and a romantic embrace...

Eugh. It gets me everytime. And this fic is no exception. I loved it for all the reasons I’ve already stated above but also for the attention to detail in Draco and Hermione’s careers makes this one particularly immersive. The dynamics between them established in this one-shot are convincingly portrayed and the chemistry between them is so undeniably hot. 

The Light is No Mystery by @masterofinfinities​

Yooo if you want to read a dramione fic that is a deep dive into Pureblood culture and Post-War recovery but is also a perfect allegory for discrimination and today’s political landscape of moral grandstanding for votes then look no further than this one. 

This story has a bit of everything. Intrigue, mystery, ptsd and recovery, enemies to lovers / secret relationship, government conspiracy and humour, to name a few. I eargerly await every update to this story and am anxious to know how it ends!

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen 

Finally! A fic that gives me the Ravenclaw representation I crave. I think I could recommend this fic on the lore depicted of Ravenclaw house alone. ‘The Stacks’ and Rowena Ravenclaw’s own ‘come and go room’ are just such cool details that I could see being real in the HP universe. 

This fic is so cosy and makes me feel like I’m just popping back into Hogwarts for another year. You get to see all the usuals like prof. Mcgongall, Nearly headless Nick, PEEVES, Hagrid, as well as learn more about minor characters from the other school houses. The story follows Hermione going to her day to day classes and there are interesting concepts about magic and alchemy that are explored. 

Draco and Hermione’s relationship in this one is of course very fluffy and heartfelt. But it’s the attention to detail that really makes this fic outstanding and the experience of reading it feels fleshed out and true to HP universe.

A shorter fic by HeartofAspen that I recommend is one called Set in Stone, it has an adventurous, Indianna Jones vibe to it, that I am so down for. 

Teachable Moments by @purplesugarquills

In this fic Hermione is an innocent little virgin determined to learn everything about sex. And Draco Malfoy is her tutor. If that isn’t enough to get you on board then I don’t know what is. Both Heartfelt and Steamy. PurpleSugarQuills writes smut so well but it’s the progression of their growing attachment and the nervous treading of new uncharted waters of romantic relationships for both of them that just adds a whole other level of feels to the story. Also chapter 9 is like reading poetry - its so good. Eugh just give it a read if you haven’t already.

Les Pèlerins by @pacific-rimbaud

This story is high art. It’s transcendent. Reading this story feels like the emotional equivalent of standing around a hundred glowing fairy lights, sipping hot cocoa and being wrapped in the loving embrace of a s/o. I can’t speak my praises highly enough or even become passably coherent in my words when I try to articulate a review. 

From the very first paragraph I felt like I was just whisked away on a Parisian holiday and I’ve never even bloody been to Paris but damn it if this story didn’t make me feel like I was there. The writing style is just so tactile and intense it’s like I could feel the cold winter air brush against me as I read it. Eugh I just completely fell in love with the story and the writer. 

New Year’s resolution. Read everything PacificRimbaud has ever posted online. 

[sandibullock]

I was wondering if you could do a tutorial on this gifset that you did i really like ittt

Thank you for sending this in, anon! I’m glad you liked it and wondered how it was made :) Fun fact: the day before you sent this, I had just started working on my next set in that “Select Filmography” series. I hope you like that one too when it’s ready!

I think I should start by saying I’m pretty new to giffing myself and there might be more efficient ways of getting to the same result. However, the point here is to show you the process I went through to make this gifset and hopefully help you understand how to make a similar one.

To follow this tutorial, you will need some version of Photoshop and some giffing knowledge. I know there are multiple ways of making gifs so I’m just letting you know I’m using the timeline and the “Convert for Smart Filters” option (I don’t really know how else to call it).

Now let’s get started!

STEP 1 - CHOOSE THE SCENES

It might sound obvious but, in my opinion, this is the most crucial step. It’s also the one that takes the longest (along with step 7, aka the coloring).

At this stage, you need to have a general idea on how you want your set to look like so you can choose the scenes accordingly. In my case, I knew I needed two types of shots for each movie: one close-up for the main gif and one mid shot for the shape. I also needed to take two other criteria into consideration: the movement (because of the shape) and the lighting (because darker scenes are such a pain to color). Last but not least, I didn’t want the characters to be talking (but that’s just a personal preference).

With all of that in mind, you can start saving a few screenshots of scenes that meet your criteria (or at least some of them). In the end, there won’t be that many to choose from so be prepared to make compromises.

STEP 2 - MAKE A DRAFT

Now that you’ve preselected a few scenes, you can make a first draft. This will help you turn your general idea into something more concrete.

Basically, this is your opportunity to organize your thoughts. What size do you want your gifs to be? What shape are you going to use? On which side do you want the close-ups to be? Do you want all of them to be on the same side or do you want to alternate from one gif to the other? Do the scenes you chose work together (gif-wise but also set-wise)? Are you happy with the way it looks, overall?

By answering all of the questions you might have now, you’ll save yourself a lot of time, trust me. Of course, you can totally skip this step if you already know exactly which scenes you’re going to use and how you’re going to present them together.

To give you an idea, this is what my draft looked like for Atomic Blonde.

STEP 3 - PREPARE YOUR GIFS

Once you have a clearer view on how you want your set to look like, you can finally start giffing like you usually would (i.e. importing, cropping, resizing, etc.).

It should then look something like this.

The important thing to mention here is that you want both of your gifs to be the same number of frames (32, in my case).

Ideally, you should also aim for the ~same~ coloring (especially for the skin tone, since both gifs will be so close to each other). This bit is particularly difficult when you chose scenes which have opposite lighting (see my two uncolored gifs below). Remember how I insisted on steps 1 and 2? It was to help you avoid this. So my advice would be not to choose these types of contrasted scenes, unless you can’t do otherwise and you’re ready to suffer!

STEP 4 - MAKE YOUR SHAPE

To make your shape, you can click right on the Shape Tool (U) and select the last one, Custom Shape Tool. From the Shape menu appearing on top, you will be able to choose the shape you want from the drop down list and start drawing on your gif.

To be more precise with the dimensions, you can manually adapt the length and height from the Shape menu itself. I decided to go with the same ones as my gif.

Once your shape is positioned like you want it to be, you can drag and drop the shape layer under your gif. Next, you will have to click right on the gif layer/smart filter and select Create Clipping Mask. The result is as below. Note that if the size of your shape was smaller than your gif, you would still be able to reposition your gif with the Move Tool (V).

You can now export your shape gif, reopen it in Photoshop and convert it again to the video timeline and to a smart filter. This is where I’m not sure it’s the most efficient way of doing things but it’s the only way I found to keep the coloring of each gif separate. I also find it easier to work with a smart filter.

STEP 5 - COMBINE YOUR GIFS

To add your shape gif to your main gif, you can simply click right on the shape gif you just reopened and select Duplicate Layer. You can then choose the project which contains your main gif to duplicate it in there. Now go to your main gif and reposition your shape gif where you want it to be (how many times did I say gif here?). Finally, you can draw a new shape, using the same dimensions as in step 4, reposition it and choose any color you want from the Shape menu.

Since you will be repeating this process with your following gifs, I suggest you add a few guides so you know exactly where you should place everything to make all of your final gifs look the same.

(In case you’re wondering, the “Base” folder contains my adjustment layers/basic coloring for the main gif.)

STEP 6 - ADD THE TITLE

This step is pretty simple: go on the web and type “[name of the movie] title”. Download the png you like most, open it in Photoshop and resize it to a length of about 150-200 pixels. Next, duplicate the layer to your main gif and reposition it. In case you need to resize it again, select the title layer and go to Edit > Free Transform (Ctrl+T).

This is optional but in case you want to change the way it looks, know you can always duplicate the title layer and play with the blending options (see below). The good thing with a png is that you can also add some effects by clicking on the “fx” button.

STEP 7 - ADD COLORING (OPTIONAL)

To be honest, I had not planned on coloring my gifs. But I had already spent so much time on them and I was still unhappy with the way they looked. I mean, see how grey-ish they are? Not great...

So the only thing left for me to do was to add some colors. Now, since coloring is worth a tutorial on its own and it already exists, I suggest you read through becca’s mega coloring tutorial (and especially steps 3 & 5). Seriously, shoutout to her for making this incredibly useful tutorial. She is so talented and I love everything she makes!

My Atomic Blonde gif barely even needed coloring so I’ll show you what I did for my Tully and The Old Guard gifs.

For the first one, once I had found which colors to use with which blending option and opacity level, I only had to remove the colors from the left side of the gif because there was barely any movement in that scene (phew!). For the second one, on the other hand, I decided to color frame by frame because there was way more movement, in comparison. This is quite a tedious process, which is why you want to limit yourself to a certain amount of frames.

I’ll conclude by saying there are so many things you can do with coloring and what works with one scene might not work with another. So experiment with it: try different colors, play with the blending options and opacity levels, add some gradients and/or gradient maps, etc. Just know it will take some time to get to a somewhat satisfying result!

And that’s it... I hope this tutorial made sense and was somehow helpful. Of course, don’t hesitate if you have any questions! Also, if you do end up making a similar edit, pleeease send me the link or tag me in the replies or something ‘cause I would definitely love to see it!!

[kaleidoscopic-quiddity]

Upside-down and/or superpowers questions that may be answered in season 5

I don't think every single question on this list should be answered, nor would it be good for them all to be, since then it'd leave no space for fan theories and personal interpretation, but I do think season 5 is going to tackle at least several of these questions

Questions about Will:

How did Will survive as long as he did in the UD?

Why single out Will Byers specifically? We know now that its not just by chance that Will was taken and then possessed, so why him?

How did Will manipulate the circle of lamps in his room when Holly was there despite that he was likely exhausted/dehydrated/etc?

Similarly, how did Will talk to Joyce via the alphabet xmas lights when he would've been far too short to reach them and, again, likey on very low energy? Were the letters even there at all for him in the UD seeing as it's stuck in time?

Why is the UD stuck on the day Will went missing?

How did/does Will's true sight actually function? Is he a 'living gate' like some people have theorized?

How did Will call the Byers house phone from the UD and get a clear enough connection to the point where Joyce could hear his breathing?

If Will can feel Henry's feelings, can he feel Will's?

Does Will have latent telekinetic/psychic powers? If so, were they repressed due to trauma? How come Will and his family, especially El, haven't noticed them?

Is Will touching his neck when he feel's Vecna &/or the Mind Flayer's presence a reference to the chip that El pulled out of Henry's neck?

Questions about Henry:

How was he born with telekinetic and psychic powers?

Why did his powers develop/manifest around the age of 12 (give or take a couple of years) of all ages?

His powers mirror El's in that he has telekinesis, and Kali's in that he can make people see things, is this an intentional parallel?

Why did nobody look for him after he was comatose and then taken by Brenner? did he have no other relatives? Was it a government cover up?

What is his ultimate goal? We know he wants to destroy the social constructs he deems arbitrary and oppressive, and create a new world, but does he want to massacre humanity? Rule over them?

Why couldn't he remove the chip from his neck by himself? El took the chuck of Mindflayer out of her own leg in S3

How exactly did he survive as long as he did in the UD? Sure he had incredible powers, but so does El, and she still needs to eat and drink

Why does music specifically of all things cut through his Influence? Is it simply just because it 'reaches deeper parts of the mind' like the Pennhurst doctor explained?

Are the parallels between him and Will (sensitive kids, likes art, quiet and awkward, etc) intentional? Did Henry single Will out because he sees himself in Will?

Why did Brenner decide that Henry couldn't serve his needs and instead look for/create more kids with powers?

What was the chip in his neck for, was it just a tracker? Did it release drugs or electrocute Henry? Why don't El and Kali appear to have ones?

Does Henry realise how hypocritical it is of him to call UD beautiful because it was 'unspoiled by mankind' only to enforce his own will upon it and twist it to suit his goals?

How did Vecna dissappear into thin air after being shot out the window of the UD Creel house?

Questions about the Upside Down:

Did it already resemble Hawkins before Will got taken? Did Will consciously or subconsciously shape the UD into mirroring Hawkins

What is the UD? Is it an alternative dimension? A parallel universe? Hell?

Was the giant cloud that Henry shaped the Mind Flayer out of already alive and/or sentient?

Was everything in the UD already a hivemind or did Henry them all?

Why does heat, specifically, hurt UD creatures?

Are those air particles actually toxic? Were the lab staff just being over cautious? Or is most of the extended party going to develop a mysterious lung disease in a few years time?

How come we've seen numerous demobats and demodogs, but only 2 (or 1? Its kind of unclear) demogorgons?

Why is the demogorgon bipedal and humanoid? Did it already exist naturally as part of the UD or did Henry make it?

Does the UD exist for the entire planet, or even universe, or is it just limited to Hawkins?

Were the vines spreading in season 2 an early attempt at setting up and opening more gates to swallow Hawkins? Or did they serve a different purpose?

Was the UD already there before El sent Henry to it? Or did she create it when she opened a gate for the first time?

Questions about the numbers, superpowers, and Terry Ives:

All of the other numbers seemed to have telekinesis and psychic abilities like El, was Kali an outlier?

Did Terry Ives already have powers before she was involved in the ST version of MKUltra?

Terry's research into missing kids shows that not all of the numbers were taken at birth, and Kali was even kidnapped all the way from England, thus it can be assumed that the numbers don't have their powers just because their mothers were involved in MKUltra, so how and why do they have powers?

If Terry did gain her powers specifically from the MKUltra experiments, why hasn't this been replicated? Do all people have the potential for superpowers if they do the right thing?

How many numbers were there in total? Are El, Kali, and Henry the only remaining surviors of the lab?

How exactly did El open the gates? What does opening a gate into an alternate dimension have to do with being telekinetic?

Were El and Kali the only female numbers?

Food, particularly sugary ones, appear to give El the energy to use her powers, so does using them count as a bodily function? Does it burn calories?

Other general questions:

What is the 'In-Between' black void space El looks for people in? Is it a real physical dimension like the UD? Or is it purely a manifestation of El's powers when she's in sensory deprivation?

How did El actually save Max? Did she manually beat her heart via telekinesis? Did she 'give' Max 'life energy'? Can she just straight up heal physical injury?

Is there a limited range on how far El can look for people? In season 1 she finds some Russians so how come she never found Hopper, despite almost certainly trying at least once to look for him?

Why were the Russians studying the UD and the democreatures? Was the plan purely just to use them as weapons?

Can the UD be 'sealed off' for good?

[hopeymchope]

Persona Lite with Fire Emblem sprinkles on top

I’ve been addicted to Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE Encore on my Switch for the past few weeks, and I’m getting close to wrapping it up. I figured it’s high time I talked about it a bit.

The game that would become Tokyo Mirage Sessions (TMS) was first announced as “Shin Megami Tensei x Fire Emblem,” which is absolutely not a good way to describe what this became. 

This title led so many people astray.

What comes to mind when you think of (mainline) Shin Megami Tensei games? An apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic setting. First-person-perspective battles. Negotiating with demons. Battles against deities. TMS contains a little bit of the third thing on that list, and none of the others. 

What comes to mind when you think of Fire Emblem? Medieval-era settings. Permadeath (either optional or mandatory). RTS-style combat. The famed “weapon triangle.” Support conversations. TMS contains the fourth thing on that list, and none of the others. 

But let’s be honest here: For most people (especially Westerners), the first thing you think of when you think about Shin Megami Tensei isn’t even the games with “Shin Megami Tensei” in the title. It’s the Persona series! They’ve grown far more popular than their parent franchise at this point.

So I suppose it was natural that TMS is, at its core, a “Persona Lite” game. The darker edges of Persona titles are removed in favor of something more T-friendly, but the basics are all there: A group of teenagers in modern-day Japan discover a strange alternate dimension that they can access which also gives them the ability to summon supernatural powers/entities. When people start to go missing in this other dimension, it falls to this group of teens to unite and save the day, ultimately leading to them discovering the reason why this alternate world has been bleeding into modern Japan in the first place and, in the end, saving humanity from annihilation. That’s totally how Persona works, and it’s also totally how Tokyo Mirage Sessions works!

However, instead of summoning Shin Megami Tensei demons as “Personas,” the heroes of TMS summon Fire Emblem characters that are “Mirages.” Each character is permanently linked to a single Mirage, so there are no “Wild Card” characters here. However, you can level the characters’ mirages up to make them take on new forms and new abilities. FE fans will notice that all of the characters here are from the Falchion/Tiki/Shadow Dragon stories - the two Marth adventures (Shadow Dragon/Mystery of the Emblem) and the semi-recent 3DS hit Awakening.

For some weird reason, all of the Fire Emblem “mirages” wear helmets, masks, or other face coverings 100% of the time. The only exception is Tiki.

The lack of the darker themes in many Persona games and the fact that there’s no “Wild Card” to manage is what makes this, in my opinion, more like PERSONA LITE. And then you get your Fire Emblem backup characters to serve as extra flavoring. The characters we meet from Fire Emblem are rarely the focus — you spend most of your time with the teen heroes — but they still manage to show off their unique personalities and carry in a load of FE fanservice. (The good kind of fanservice where it’s full of references and nods to the continuity of the series, I mean. Not the other kind where it’s softcore porn.)

Fire Emblem fanservice was one of the biggest delights for me here. If you’re looking for any SMT/Persona characters to pop up and link the continuity together, you can stop looking because they aren’t here. But if you want to see specific characters from the three source FE games pop up here, a metric ton manage to do so. For example: Tharja (from Awakening) creates two golems for training purposes, which she names Bord and Cord after the pair of heroes from Marth’s era. And then the actual spirits of Bord and Cord possess those golems. So naturally, they start bickering and fighting. It’s delightful. 

So yeah, there’s plenty of nods for FE fans to appreciate even if your favorite characters are taking a back seat to a bunch of teenagers. Fire Emblem fans will recognize the heroic mirages, the enemy boss mirages, the weapon triangle weakness/strength system and lots of musical cues. On the flip side, Persona fans will recognize the story structure, the magic spells the characters wield (things like “Mazio” and “Diarama” and “Rakukaja”), the common enemies you encounter and cameos from a few of the more famous demons found on signage around Tokyo. Sadly, there are no familiar sounds or music pieces borrowed from SMT/Persona that I noticed.

In addition to the main story, there are also “Side Stories” for your party and side quests from various NPCs. The whole game lasts around 50 hours even if you aren’t trying to 100% it.

And while the music here is mostly pretty good — especially the Fire Emblem themes — I really wish we’d gotten some Persona-style tunes in here. Persona soundtracks are absolutely killer and everybody knows it. I wanted to hear some Shihoko Hirata, some Lotus Juice, some Yumi Kawamura, some Lyn Inaizumi. Alas, that never happens. Sad face.

In fact, as far as vocal tracks go, you’ll only be hearing the performances of the main characters. See, the story this time revolves around a group of teens who are hired by a talent agency to become young starlets of the stage and screen. You meet plenty of pop idols, a cooking show host, aspiring actors, and those who do combinations of the above. There’s a lot of focus on the Japanese entertainment industry, and it’s mostly a very positive portrayal about how hard teen stars work to reach their dreams and how fulfilling it can be when they express themselves through their artistic pursuits. Speaking as someone who legitimately does not care one iota about the idol industry in Japan or Asia as a whole, I’m very happy that these characters managed to remain likable and their pursuits stayed enjoyable throughout. No one here is an ultra-deep character, but no one here is a total cipher, either. I’m additionally thankful that the vocal songs are another highlight of the soundtrack alongside the FE tunes. 

The last thing I’ll bring up is the “Sessions” mentioned in the title. It’s a battle mechanic wherein striking an enemy with a weapon or element they’re weak to will enable other characters to start jumping in with follow-up attacks. At first, it’s just one or two follow-ups, but by the game’s end, you might be sitting there for 15 or more consecutive strikes on an enemy after you initiate a “Session” of follow-ups. The greatest quality-of-life improvement built into this Switch port is that you can turn on “Quick Session” to make these attack animations much shorter and more rapid than they ever were in the Wii U original. I never had to play that one, but I can’t imagine I’d have much patience for constantly triggering 15 attack animations with every round. SO glad I don’t have to sit through that.

This is just a two-strike Sessions, so it won’t last long enough for you to take a beverage break.

So yeah, there’s a lot for RPG fans, Persona fans, and most of all, Fire Emblem fans to dig in “Tokyo Mirage Sessions.” And since we already covered that Danganronpa fans are apparently predisposed to enjoying Persona and Fire Emblem, that probably means that YOU, dear reader, are likely to dig this game as well. 

[wixelt]

Hermitcraft: Season β AU #001 - Beginning

So, here’s where we find out of how much of this has leaked out of my brain throughout the day. Going to start by reiterating my initial post on this.

While asleep, my dreams invented a new AU, & I spent about 5 mins when I woke trying to recall details before realizing my brain had taken parts of @hermitcraftheadcanons' Scattered, elements of mod packs like Sky Factory & a non-existent alternate ending to Hermitcraft Season 6, alongside some stuff involving superhero outfits & whatever else was on my mind (Farscape, Gravity Falls, RWBY Vol.8 finale, Backrooms creepypasta, non-existent details of my RL, etc.)... & threw it all in a blender.

So, ladies & gentlemen, I give you the Season β AU, or whatever I still remember of it, from a mix of what I recall of the dream & what I've worked out or opted to change since.

- At Season 7′s end, the Hermits hold a gathering to celebrate all the things they’ve worked on & are proud of, from builds to events to pranks. Because of the 1.17 “update” to the multiverse, arranging the new world’s taking longer than X expected, so this event’s almost a buffer while he waits for it to be ready. It’s held in what’s kind of a void-like lobby dimension between worlds - think the place from RWBY Vol.8′s finale, for those trying to factor that in - as X didn’t have time to set up anything more or make arrangements with another admin. So slightly creepy empty void will have to do.

- This is all well & good, the Hermits - minus Grian (or Jevin - i’ll address the uncertainty on that at a later time), who stayed behind due to a sudden illness - making the best of the Void place for a few impromptu games & the like. But then things begin to go south. As most of the details of this dimension have been worked out since I woke, I haven’t determined the exact cause, but something finds its way into the Void space, rectangular, transparent “windows” in the darkness beginning to appear like glass panes. From them, these almost flowing, liquid like humanoids emerge - visibly appearing to be less detailed, shadowy blue-black doppelgangers of the various Hermits - staggering in with some effort... & lunging for their originals.

- X tries to “remove” these aberrations, that have invaded his region of control, but they don’t respond to his command inputs, & before he can do anything else his double is upon him, wrapping around him & dragging him away, helpless. There’s screams & shouts as the Hermits try & fail to fight back (here was where I learnt my brain had heard enough of Stress to do a passable dream impression of her), & one by one the remaining Hermits watch their friends get dragged away as if their seasons of building power & skill have amounted to nothing, each dragged back through one of the 2-dimensional “panes”, where their watery shadow doubles vanish, leaving each Hermit banging fruitlessly on the other side, powerless.

- Soon, there’s no-one left. The last to go are the strong fighters like False & Wels - who dodge, weave & slash their way around & away from their copies - & “darksiders” like Ex & Hels - who technically gatecrashed the party & who’s doppelgangers only came for them after X & Wels were already trapped. With that, the Void space collapses, & the panes get pulled into the ether along with their prisoners.

- An unknown amount of time later, the Hermits awake, each of them having a throbbing headache that’s slow to fade. There’s not a single other Hermit in sight, leaving them all alone. What they do see, however, is something that’s very alien from what they’re used to. A jungle biome, seemingly spanning endlessly in every possible direction, tinged an unnatural shade of painful to look at blue, unlike the usual deep green. And above the canopy, like an omen, is an empty, black Void-like sky, devoid of even the smallest detail.

- Wherever the Hermits are, they aren’t in Kansas anymore.

More to come, but I wanted to post the stuff built on the part of the dream that felt like the chronological “start” to me first.

[lassieposting]

skulduggery/alt!serpine for the getting together ask game?

I’m bored, so. Send me two (or more) characters for a headcanon on how I’d have them get together

OHOHOHOHO SEE THIS IS A GOOD ONE BC

ive already been thinking about this and im. Lowkey really glad im not the only one

See I always hated skug with any serpine, like I was a passionate anti from 2007 - about three months ago but. I enjoyed their dynamic in phase one and then i read like three of their interactions from sow and got converted or some shit apparently idfk, anyway u know i love an angsty ship

this got really long so tldr; enemies to vitriolic hate-sex buddies to lovers, painfully slow burn, but they'll both die claiming they still hate each other

It begins with China.

She orders him to kill Serpine, and he refuses. He's not even 100% sure why when he does. It's not like they're friends. He's killed people he liked a good deal more than Nefarian Serpine under orders.

But she says, "kill him" and he says, "no", and then things spiral so quickly that it's actually a few days before he even has time to think about her parting shot, flung at him as he walked out on her: "if you want to keep him, you'll be the one looking after him. He's your responsibility, not mine. And if he hurts someone, you -"

He'd shut the door on her at that point, but he knows what she was going to say. You look after him yourself, you train him yourself, and if he hurts someone, you kill him yourself. A wonderfully old-world way of looking at things. He's fairly sure he remembers getting the same speech from the housekeeper when he tried to bring home the ugliest feral tomcat he'd ever seen as a small boy.

(This will come back to bite him. He's not sure how or when, but it will. That's the way of things, whenever he turns his back on China Sorrows. Her last parting shot - a classic "you'll regret this" - ended up getting him killed.)

But then there's Mevolent, and cleaning up a city in the aftermath of its latest Traumatic Event, and putting a size 10 to the backsides of the City Guard, so his priorities get reshuffled somewhat, and it's almost a week later that he thinks to ask, "Heard from Serpine lately? He's being oddly quiet."

Valkyrie blinks at him from the passenger seat. Her fingertips tap tap tap at the touchscreen. She's messaging someone. He doesn't know who. "He's...around."

"Why the pause?"

"Hm?"

"You paused," he points out, switching lanes to get around a hatchback dawdling along at 60. "He's...around. You're trying to hide something from me. I'm aware you still talk to him, you know."

She doesn't deny it. He's gotten used to that, in the last few years. She doesn't tell him things anymore. It's that distance, the distance he can try to banter over but never truly remove. She's a lot further away than his passenger seat. "He's been looking for somewhere to live, like. Now that he's here for good. So, you know. That's probably keeping him busy."

Nefarian Serpine is living out of a stuffy first-floor rented room above, of all things, Vaurien Scapegrace's pub.

He knows this not because China was having Serpine followed (although she was) or because plenty of old faces from the Sanctuary still owe him favours (although they do), but because he receives a text from Scapegrace at a quarter to midnight, in the middle of a grisly murder scene.

have u beaten anyone up lately? do u want to? think thrasher just rented one of our rooms to a war criminal

He taps out a response, half-focused on the screen and half on Valkyrie examining the photos on the dead man's mantelpiece. She looks like she's just figured something out.

Which one? Thrasher, or the other guy?

By the time he's dropped her home, said hello to the furball and returned to the city, morning is bleeding into the sky. He knocks sharply on Nefarian Serpine's peeling rented door, and then again when there's no response.

From inside, a thud.

Then another, followed by some deeply impolite language, and then the door jerks open. Serpine, wearing an impressive bedhead, a scraggly attempt at a beard and a pair of patterned socks with a hole in the toe, squints out into the hall and snaps, "D'you have ANY IDEA what time it is? This place is supposed to - ah, shite. It's you."

"It is," he agrees.

Serpine gives him a sulky jerk of the head - an invitation - and vanishes back inside. He follows, closing the door gently behind him. Inside the room is dark and depressing and smells faintly of mildew and sweat. There are clothes on the floor.

He pulls the curtains open and looks out the window, giving Serpine some privacy to get dressed.

"Found me at last, have you?" Serpine asks from over by the bed. There's a rustle of fabric and the sound of a belt being done up. "What do you want? Come to take my other hand?"

That's it. That's what's different. "Other? You don't seem to be missing any at present, Nefarian. Valkyrie's work, I take it."

Serpine sits down on the bed with a squeak of springs, and when Skulduggery turns to face him, he's smirking and, thankfully, wearing trousers. "Ever so nice of her, wasn't it? Doesn't work like the old one, though. You know. The one I used on you."

He sighs. "And here I thought this last week would've given you time to come up with some new material."

Serpine shrugs and spends a moment picking out a pair of shirts from the wardrobe beside the bed. If it's a test, it's a painfully obvious one. Almost an invitation. Go ahead, shoot me.

No, this is something Skulduggery knows far more intimately. A display of brittle confidence in the face of a threat. I'm not afraid of you. Do your worst.

Serpine is afraid of him. Afraid of being arrested, maybe, or killed, or worse. He'd have relished that fear, once. Delighted in flipping the tables.

He leans back against the desk, ankles crossed and arms folded. After a moment, Serpine turns around with a shirt on a hanger in each hand. He holds them up for an opinion.

Skulduggery points wordlessly at the green one, and the blue goes back in the closet. "If you're not here to kill me, what do you want?"

While Serpine is doing up his buttons, Skulduggery retrieves the folded sheaf of paper from the inside pocket of his long coat, and holds it up. "I came to drop these off."

Serpine's vibrant eyes narrow. "What is that? An arrest warrant?"

"A list of landlords in Roarhaven willing to rent to refugees. Valkyrie mentioned you were looking."

Serpine blinks at him. Skulduggery doesn't often bother with the facade in Roarhaven, but if he had a face right now, he'd be blinking back. It's a weirdly awkward moment.

"...thanks," Serpine says after a moment, tentatively reaching for the papers; Skulduggery leans forward to pass them over. "That'd be...helpful."

He sounds very uncomfortable saying those words. When Skulduggery responds, "You're welcome," he feels much the same.

Serpine unfolds the papers and skims them. Three pages of property listings. Tipstaff had printed them off for him with only a raised eyebrow and a, "Never thought you'd move out of Dublin, Detective."

"What brought this on?"

He looks up. "Hm?"

"You show up here at an ungodly hour of the morning, nobody to rein you in, and you're being helpful? I don't buy it. I know China as well as you do. She told you to kill me, didn't she?"

"She did," Skulduggery acknowledges, and a very old, very spiky part of him gets a kick out of watching the blood drain from Serpine's face. "I told her no."

"Bollocks."

"Hard to believe, isn't it? But it's true. Ah, don't look at me like that, Nefarian. It's got nothing to do with you. I was just feeling argumentative that day. And, if nothing else, I can always rely on China to argue with me if I tell her no."

"So -"

"For my sins, she made you my responsibility, see. I'm supposed to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get up to any of your old tricks. And if you do, then I'll kill you. I'll be checking in on you to make sure you're behaving yourself. Think of me as a...probation officer, of sorts. With benefits."

More blinking. This version of Serpine is not a morning person. He bets his alternate self got to sleep in far later in this Serpine's dungeon. "I'm not seeing any benefits."

"The benefit is I get to kill you if you step out of line. I never said the benefits were for you."

"Are there any benefits in this for me?"

He considers this for a moment. "You get to live. Because of me. I saved your life. "

Serpine's face is emotionless and his voice is flat.

"Oh," he says. "Yippee."

He's interviewing a witness when his phone rings.

He politely excuses himself, and steps out into the hallway to answer it. "Pleasant."

"Hello!" Serpine says brightly, and launches immediately into, "I want a car."

Skulduggery's fake face blinks at the sigil-embossed wallpaper. It takes a second to even register the voice, and another to pick up on -

"How the -? Who gave you this number?"

"Valkyrie." Serpine sounds completely unapologetic. "And you're supposed to be teaching me to drive."

Serpine can't see his head tilt. He does it anyway. "Am I now? And what gave you that idea?"

"I'm your problem now, remember? Besides, you agreed to it," is the smug answer. "Before our little holiday back to my dimension, I said I wanted a better house and a latte and a car. And driving lessons."

"I never agreed to that."

"Well, you didn't say no. That's agreement by default. Sorry."

"Plenty of people can teach you to drive, Nefarian. You could teach yourself, even. Watch a video on Youtube."

"Detective Pleasant, I am shocked," Serpine teases, suddenly dripping with insincere concern. "Think of all those poor defenceless mortals I could run into. There's an advert on the television about how you're specifically not supposed to hit them with cars. It kills them, apparently. How will I cope without you there to make sure I resist temptation?"

Skulduggery grinds his teeth. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely. I'd completely forgotten how much fun it is to have you at my mercy. And you did say you're supposed to keep an eye on me."

Skulduggery goes quiet for a moment, focusing on reining in the urge to hit something. Serpine's face. He wants to hit Serpine's face. With a chair. Trust him to figure out that being Skulduggery's responsibility meant he could go to him for help.

"Fine."

"Excellent! And now you have my number, so you can let me know when you're free."

"Since when do you have a mobile?"

"Since today," Serpine says airily. "Tanith helped me pick one out. I can talk to anyone, anywhere, whenever I like now. Isn't that great? I mean, I only have two numbers, three now that Valkyrie's given me yours, but still. Now I'll always have someone to talk to."

"This is a work line. It is not for social calls."

A passing sorcerer startles a little at his tone, and he gives her an apologetic smile. As an afterthought, he rolls his eyes in a you know how it is gesture. But she's already walking away, so really he just rolls his eyes at her back, which is probably rude of him.

Serpine is still talking. "- can send little moving pictures, and I've downloaded all these little applications, so now I do all sorts of fun things. Do you use...whatsit...Snapchat? I have Snapchat now. And I've got Angry Birds and Candy Crush and Grindr."

And that? That right there? That is more than he ever needed to know about Serpine.

"Goodbye, Nefarian," he says firmly, and hangs up.

He checks in on Serpine once a week, officially. Unofficially, he clocks more hours than he'd like to admit parked in an alley outside Scapegrace's pub, waiting for someone to scream bloody murder. Serpine spots him a couple of times, gives him a jaunty wave with his newly-regrown hand on his way to the off-licence, mocking and unconcerned.

But nobody gets murdered. Serpine seems to be...behaving. For now.

"I've volunteered you for move-in duty," Valkyrie says, apropos of nothing. When he blinks at her, she shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. "Serpine's found a flat. He needs some furniture shifting."

He's not going to throw anything at his partner in this busy mortal cafe. He's not.

"I see. And you thought that has anything to do with me because..."

She polishes off the last dregs of her drink with a slurp. "I can't float stuff up stairs."

The apartment Serpine is moving into is a decent two-bedroom on the fourth floor of a six-floor block in a quiet area with a history of minimal unexpected-demolitions-by-overpowered-supervillain. Skulduggery idly wonders, as he pulls up in the parking area behind the building, whether a mass murderer moving in - and the frequent visits by the other mass murderer charged with keeping an eye on him - will bring down housing prices. China will hate that, when she wakes up.

Serpine is waiting for him out front, surrounded by boxes and furniture, already looking a bit frazzled. His outfit is stylish and his slicked-back hair is sticking up in places where he's been running his hands though it. He startles and looks up at the sound of footsteps, and seems to breathe a sigh of relief. "Ah! You came. Valkyrie said you'd know how to go about getting all this, you know. Up there."

"You can hire people for this, you know," Skulduggery tells him. "Removal men."

"With what money?" Serpine asks, a little helplessly. "Valkyrie gave me some of her old things, but I got most of this from - what's the word? - second hand shops, and the refugee aid centre. I've been looking for work, but...you know." He gestures at his face. "This is my criminal record."

Which...is a fair point, so Skulduggery rolls up his sleeves and moves to one end of a squashed two-seater couch. "Fair enough. Grab the other end."

Serpine's mouth almost drops open. "You want to carry it? Like peasants? I thought you were here to float the damn thing!"

Well, he could. But the world isn't actively ending right now, so he can afford to be petty. "I don't use magic unless I have to, these days. We'll be doing this the old-fashioned way."

"But." The last time he saw someone look this aghast was when Valkyrie realised how the citizens of Roarhaven saw her. "But that's manual labour!"

"A little manual labour will do you good."

"Gods, I hate you," Serpine tells him as he moves to grab the other end of the couch.

Skulduggery turns the facade on specifically to give him a smug smirk. "I know."

By the time they're finishing up the boxes, Serpine's new neighbours have come out into the hall to see what all the banging is about. They seem young, mostly - too young to recognise him from the war. Skulduggery is starting to suspect that Serpine has accidentally moved into student housing, but he keeps his mouth shut. Serpine is being chatty and charming, holding court in the corridor, and Skulduggery mostly lets him get on with it in between trips to the bottom of the stairs to pick up more boxes, until a young woman who holds Serpine's front door open for him and chuckles, "Left you doing all the work, has he? He's a talker, your boyfriend. I bet you don't get a word in edgewise."

It's not often that Skulduggery Pleasant is lost for words. "I. I'm sorry. What?"

Fortunately, Serpine chooses that moment to interrupt the conversation he's having and interject, "Oh, no, darling. We're not together. He's just here to make sure I stay out of trouble."

There's something off about how he says it, though. There must be, because the woman taps her nose like he's just confided a secret, and Skulduggery can't help but feel like he's just been made the butt of a joke he doesn't fully understand.

He checks on Serpine once a week. Occasionally Serpine texts him. A blurry photo, usually paired with a caption like, "what the hell is this?"; a set of traffic lights, or a lollipop man, or a chihuahua in a little jumper. Sometimes he responds, but sometimes he doesn't bother.

It's not like they're friends.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Roarhaven's shopping district is bustling, and Nefarian Serpine is late.

Skulduggery's been people-watching, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, for fifteen minutes when he finally shows up with a to-go coffee cup in one hand and a stack of books under the other arm. He's frowning.

"You're late," says Skulduggery, by way of greeting.

Serpine shrugs, taking the seat opposite. He dumps his books on the round table and gives the menu a cursory glance. "Sorry. I was at the library. Almost missed the bus."

A waitress approaches wearing a shirt stamped with the logo of the little bistro they're sat outside, and while Serpine orders lunch, Skulduggery idly examines the titles stamped along the spines of his book mountain. Some of them look old, leather bound tomes with fancy gold lettering, and the rest seem to be...textbooks, of all things.

"A little light reading, Nefarian?"

"Huh?" Serpine - busy watching the waitress walk back inside - swivels round to face him, and shrugs. "Oh. Yeah. I want to see if they match up with the slanderous shite they're teaching at the university."

"Excuse me?"

Serpine shrugs. "Vapid and Ty - you know Ty, weird hair, lives next door - thought it might help me adapt if I learn more about how your world is different to mine, so. I've been sitting in on some classes. Unofficially. History. Mortal Relations. That kind of thing. You have battles here that never happened back home, you know."

Skulduggery folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair, amused despite himself. "Mortal Relations? You're going to Mortal Relations lectures. You."

"Shut up," says Serpine, pointing a finger at him. "You don't get to laugh. You're not the one nobody wants to hire. - because that's still a problem, by the way. Aren't you supposed to be helping me with that?"

"I'm supposed to be making sure you don't kill anyone or make a nuisance of yourself. Sorry to disappoint."

"Would it kill you to write me a character reference?"

Skulduggery coughs conspicuously into his gloved hand with the throat he doesn't have. He picks up the top book from Serpine's stack and flips idly through Religion & Warfare: The Rise Of The Church Of The Faceless In The 15th Century . "Think about that one for a minute, Nefarian, and you'll remember why it's not happening."

"Fine. Be like that." Serpine's shoe nudges his leg under the table. "Here, were you at the Battle of Black Rock?"

He has to think about that one for a second, then hums in the negative. "Hm. No. I missed that one. I think that was when I was holed up in Cork with a broken leg. Why?"

"History 201," Serpine muses. "I tagged along this morning. It was mostly about that fight, but it never happened in my dimension. It was borderline slanderous, honestly. The professor is an imbecile."

"You're dying to vent, aren't you?"

"Would you mind terribly?"

Skulduggery pulls his ornate pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and checks the time. "You've got fifteen minutes. Better talk fast."

Time goes by.

He checks on Nefarian once a week. They have coffee, sometimes. Valkyrie knows not to cross the line of bringing Serpine to Skulduggery's home, but she adds them both to a group chat and neither one leaves.

Nefarian wrecks his first car, and Skulduggery makes the drive out from Dublin at 5.45am to rescue him. He calls the tow truck while Serpine sits, pale and shaken, in the Bentley's front seat, drenched from the rain and squelching miserably every time he moves.

He apologises for calling so early, and for once he sounds like he means it.

Skulduggery takes him through the McDonalds drive thru to cheer him up, and as Nefarian tucks into a box of fries with gusto, he thinks, oh no.

They're not friends. They're not.

"Is this a date?"

Skulduggery tilts his head, hand stilling over the car keys. "I'm sorry?"

Valkyrie tosses another piece of popcorn into her mouth. She's already in her pyjamas, fluffy ones with dogs on them, and she's flicking through the Netflix queue. "You're all dressed up. Is this a date? Have you two finally gotten over yourselves? God knows it's been long enough."

He snatches up the car keys and sniffs, disdainful. "After all these decades, Valkyrie, if that's what your expert detective skills are telling you, I have failed as a mentor."

"And now you're getting defensive."

"I'm doing no such thing. Where's Tanith, by the way?"

She laughs and does double fingerguns at him. "And that's deflection!"

He sighs - dramatically, for her benefit - and as he checks his pocket watch, she continues, "And, she's on her way. Get out, already. You have a date to keep and we have movies to watch."

"It's not a bloody date," he complains, patting his pockets to make sure he's got everything. "And I originally asked you."

"Yeah, but opera's boring. Here, is he meeting you there or are you picking him up?"

"Goodbye, Valkyrie."

"See?!" She shouts after him as he shuts the front door. "Date!"

[taj5358810]

WEEK 5: Sketching

This weeks work included a further extension of perspective drawing with emphasis on sketching. I found this body of work allowed me to be somewhat creative compared to past lessons, which I personally find is the only way to practice & refine skills. 

PART 1: 2D Orthographic Thumbnails

Funnily enough, the simple concept of dividing a page into segments proved very complex for to me compute. I was very unsure as to where to begin & where to place the 12 segments. The only logical thing I could think of was to make some mathematical calculations to find the spaces between the segments. I began by halving the dimensions of the bottle in order to scale it 1:2. To find the vertical spacing I subtracted the multiplication of 1:2 scale width of the bottle by 4, from 297mm (the width A3.) I repeated this process for the length & measured the segments across my page evenly. I felt frustrated in spending 30 minutes dividing up the segments but was satisfied with the result. 

When it came to sketching the bottle concepts I went rogue with penciling alternate styles & I tried my best to use a variation of pencil, ball point & felt tip pens. I still to this day find shading extremely difficult and subjective. I never know where to shade or what features to put emphasis on in order to create a display 3D. Optimistically, I used guide lines that I picked up from the tutorial in order to repeat creases & segment areas to shade. I also found that using ovals to represent artificial internal ribs on circular models useful to interpret where & how the shape should be positioned & what angles need to be shown to communicate a 3D figure. I completed part one somewhat pleased with the variation of models that I came up with, however its that shading that still frustrates me & refrains me from achieving top results for this lesson. At least I know what to focus on.

PART 2: Perspective Sketch

After measuring up the 1:1 scale bottle, I transformed an empty page into a rectangular prism. The measurements are correct however I admittedly chose a terrible angle to create my drawing. I had no idea what angle was going to be reflected when measuring up the lines, however I had spent far too much time to re start all over again. Looking at the entire page that this one model consumed, the only way to include other models was to remove the guidelines. By drawing two horizontal lines above and below the model that span the entire page, I found it approachable to include one model either side. With fear that the lack of perspective guides will ruin the proportions of the shape, I measured every angle of the box using a protractor and eventually had three boxes evenly spread across the page. Reflecting back, I went crazy on filling in the lines on the middle (first) drawing. It does not reflect the relief I intended on communicating.

Again I finished this body of work in awe of other students high quality work, and couldn't help feeling disappointed with what I came up with. I do know however, that I did try and spent the hours practising & further refining my drawing skills. I did enjoy myself too!

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 85

The Night Terrors try to rescue Tess.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

--

The Night Terrors Redux

           Shmee takes a big bite out of a hamburger and grunts apathetically. “Food’s fine, I guess. But the essence of evil is much more satisfying.”

           “Well, they don’t have evil essence on the menu,” Sickness grunts.

           “We appreciate you meeting with us, Shmee,” Reverend Meat says.

           “Yeah,” D-boy agrees, “but did you have to bring the rabbit?”

           Shmee glances at Nailbunny, who’s sitting next to him at the restaurant’s table. He’s glaring at the Doughboys, who glare right back.

           “The rabbit and I are partners now,” Shmee says, “so where I go, he goes, and vice versa. Now, what did you want to meet about?”

           Across the table, the Night Terrors suddenly get very awkward.

           “Uh it’s about…Tess,” Reverend Meat reply.

           Shmee and Nailbunny blink with surprise.

           “Do you know any way we can help her?” he asks.

           Shmee sighs heavily as he leans back in the booth. “Her situation is…regrettable. But as long as she’s under the Nightmare’s power, there’s nothing we can do for her.”

           “There’s gotta be something,” Eff insists.

           “You guys really care about her?” Nailbunny questions.

           “We promised to help her,” Reverend Meat clarifies, “besides, neither of you can understand what she’s going through right now.”

           Shmee and Nailbunny glance at each other and Shmee sighs again. “Look, Tess will never truly be free as long as the Nightmare exists. And being a force of nature, the Nightmare can never truly be destroyed.”

           “Truly?” Sickness questions.

           “So can it be…somewhat destroyed?” D-boy asks.

           Shmee awkwardly scratches the scar across his face and looks to Nailbunny for guidance. He just shrugs.

           “What do you two know?” Eff asks accusingly.

           “Nothing, it’s all a theory,” Nailbunny replies.

           “Well, what do you…theorize?” Reverend Meat asks.

           “There may be a way to destroy the Nightmare’s main body,” Shmee explains, “it would eventually return, of course, but it would take a long time. And during this time, it would not be able to feed off human imagination.”

           “If that’s possible, why hasn’t the Daydream done it?” Sickness asks.

           “Cause we’re not sure it is possible,” Nailbunny replies, “and we don’t know if there would be consequences to destroying the bulk of a force of nature.”

           “Okay, destroying the Nightmare sounds great,” Reverend Meat says, “but how would that help Tess?”

           “Well, if we could get her out first, then she’d be free,” Shmee replies.

           “How would we get her out?” Eff asks.

           “Theoretically, you may be able to summon her.”            “Really?” Reverend Meat questions, “why didn’t you say so?”

           “Because it’s incredibly risk,” Shmee replies, “you’d have to reach into the Nightmare like an evil grab bag. Who knows what you’d pull out or if it’d even be stable.”

           “If this is how we can help Tess, then we gotta go for it,” Reverend Meat insists.

           Shmee nods hesitantly. “Alright. Well, being part of the Nightmare, you guys are the only ones who can pull it off.”

           “What, like right now?” Eff questions.

           “No, not here, are you nuts?” Shmee snaps, gesturing to the restaurant full of people. “We need to go somewhere secluded and safe.”

           “We can go to our place,” Nailbunny suggests.

           “You guys have a place?” D-boy questions.

           A few minutes later, the group is standing outside an old, condemned building.

           “Tch, and you called our van disgusting,” Sickness scoffs as they all go inside, ducking under the boards blocking the doorway.

           “So what do we do?” Eff asks.

           “You’re gonna have to reach for the Nightmare,” Shmee replies.          

           “How do we do that?” D-boy questions.

           “I’unno,” he shrugs, “but be careful. The Nightmare may try to pull you back. Nailbunny and I should be able to help you if that happens, but don’t linger within it for too long.”  

           Shmee and Nailbunny stand aside while Reverend Meat, Sickness, Eff, and D-boy huddle together.

           “Any ideas?” Reverend Meat asks.

           “Maybe,” Eff replies, “but only D-boy and I will be able to pull it off.”            “That might be easier for us if things go bad,” Sickness points out.

           “Alright, then let’s do it,” Eff declares.

           The Doughboys remove their top hats and hold them out. They both focus for a second, take deep breaths, and reach inside.

           They wiggle their arms around, as if they’re digging for something in a deep bag, their faces twisting with a mix of disgust and concentration.

           “What’s it feel like?” Sickness asks.

           “Cold,” D-boy replies.

           “Eyah, something brushed by arm!” Eff cries out.

           “Don’t take too long!” Nailbunny snaps, “every second you spend in there gives the Nightmare more time to grab you.”

           They feel around for a little longer before Eff exclaims with surprise, “I got something!”

           “Me too!” D-boy adds.

           They both cry out with exertion as they pull out their arms, dropping their hats and falling backwards, both of them holding onto…something.

          The others crowd around as the Doughboys hold out their catches: painted, Styrofoam dolls.

           Eff and D-boy cry out in surprise and jump to their feet, dropping the dolls. Everyone stares down at them, motionless on the floor with painted-on smiles.

           “That’s not Tess,” Reverend Meat states.

           “No kidding,” Sickness grunts drily.

           One of dolls is white with painted lines on its face; some pointing out of the corners of its fanged grin, and others crossing over its eyes, which also have horizontal lines as pupils. The other is completely black with crosses in its eyes. Both are wearing chef’s hats and scarves.

           “Jeez it’s like…looking into an alternate dimension,” Eff comments.

           “I don’t like this,” Shmee grunts, “send them back.”

           “No!”

           Voices cry out from the motionless dolls, causing the Night Terrors to jump with surprise.

           “Please, don’t send us back,” a voice from the while doll begs. “It’s been so long.”

           “Too long,” the black one adds.

           “Who are you?” Reverend Meat asks.

           “I am Nil,” the black doll replies.

           “I’m Senor Bondage,” the other adds.

           “What kind of a name is Senor Bondage?” Eff snorts.

           “What kind of a name is Mr. Fuck,” Nailbunny retorts.

           “Mr. Fuck,” Senor Bondage muses, “are you…Mr. Fuck?”

           “You know me?” Eff questions.

           “Of course,” Nil replies, “you and Psycho Doughboy…we were your predecessors.”

           “Say what?” D-boy exclaims.

           “Many, many years ago,” Nil explains, “we were the Nightmare’s right and left hands…or tentacles. Every time it wanted to wear down a victim, we were used.”

           “We did our jobs well,” Senor Bondage continues, “we tore apart the minds of our victims, turning them into mush for our master. They never knew what hit them.”

           “But then one day,” Nil adds, “our lord decided to…switch things up. It had found someone special and it wanted to create new minions for this person with new personalities. And we were never used again.”

           “The most insulting thing?” Senor Bondage asks, “they looked just like different versions of us.”

           “Mr. Fuck and Psycho Doughboy.”

           Eff and D-boy share an uncomfortable look.

           “Well…that sucks,” Eff groans awkwardly, “but uh you’re free now, right? Yay.”

           “Free? We can never be free,” Senor Bondage says.

           “You can never truly be free,” Nil adds, “not from the enveloping darkness.”

           Shmee and Nailbunny flinch as they sense something.

           “Everyone get back!” Shmee exclaims.

           The other Night Terrors leap backwards as Nil and Senor Bondage rip in half, releasing the Nightmare’s tendrils. They lunge towards Reverend Meat, Sickness and the Doughboys but Nailbunny jumps in front of them and creates a shield. The appendages slam against it fruitlessly.

           Shmee comes up behind the mass of madness and grabs two big handfuls. He begins slurping them all up until there’s nothing left, not even the Styrofoam dolls.

           “Oh, yeah,” he sighs contently, patting his stomach. “Way better than a hamburger.”      

           “Whew,” Nailbunny sighs with relief as he drops the shield. “That was too close.”

           “Yeah,” Eff agrees as he picks up his hat. “So should we try again?”

           “No!” he barks, “did you not see what just happened?”

           “But we have to help Tess,” D-boy argues.

           “Nailbunny’s right,” Reverend Meat admits.

           “Huh?” the Doughboys exclaim.

           “This isn’t the way to help Tess,” he clarifies, “like Shmee said, she’ll never truly be free as long as the Nightmare exists.”

           He sighs heavily as he sits on the floor and looks up at Shmee. “So. How do we destroy the Nightmare?”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 54 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last time on The Thanksgiving Chronicles: Things got real as Courtney and Bianca had sex for the first time and Pearl and Adore for the last (??).

This Chapter: Adore seeks comfort, Katya decorates, and we just might have escaped from the alternate dimension where it’s always Thanksgiving. (Thanksgiving Chronicles 5 of 5)

***

More than anything else, Adore felt stupid. For believing, even for a second, that she and Pearl were finally on the same page. It was her fault, she supposed. She’d initiated things before they’d had a chance to really talk.

It still hurt though.

She could’ve just gone home and crashed. But she really didn’t want to be alone, and it wasn’t that late. Maybe Bianca would be up for an old movie. And she still had all those leftovers. Besides, she was planning to stay there to house-sit starting on Friday anyway, so it just made sense that’s where she’d head.

What she was not prepared for was the sight when the elevator doors opened. Clothes strewn all over the foyer and the bottom of the stairs. Courtney’s purse, spilling out its contents, right by her feet. Her mouth opened as she took it all in, temporarily too amazed by what she was seeing to remember that she was sad.

She walked forward a few steps and then stopped when the dogs came tearing through the apartment to greet her, barking up a storm. She set down her stupid box and knelt down to pet them.

“Hey guys! How’s it going? What the fuck has your Mommy been up to?”

“Hey.” Bianca appeared next, wrapped in one of those fancy silk robes she loved so much, awkwardly asking, “Um, what’re you doing back here?”

“Uhhh...I guess I’m interrupting, huh?” Adore said, trying not to laugh, standing back up.

“Or, you could...not?” Bianca cleared her throat and gestured vaguely back to the elevator. “And call me in the morning?”

“Yeah, I could…” Adore tilted her head, pretending to consider it for a few seconds before she took off, racing towards the stairs.

“Adore!” Bianca tried to grab at her, but she missed, Adore adeptly avoiding her hands and continuing.

“Too slow, old woman!”

“Fucking hell!” Bianca exclaimed, as Adore left her in the dust, laughing maniacally.

*

Courtney sat up in bed, startled by the footsteps thundering up the stairs, pretty sure they didn’t belong to Bianca, who had gone down to feed the dogs. She grabbed the covers, pulling them up to cover her naked body just as Adore appeared in the doorway, standing there breathlessly for a few moments, staring at Courtney with her mouth open and chest heaving.

Courtney relaxed a bit, seeing that it was just her best friend. She supposed this saved them that awkward ‘So...I slept with your sister’ conversation. She gave Adore a mildly self-conscious little wave.

“Hi...”

Adore threw back her head and laughed, then skipped forward and flung herself onto the bed.

“Oh...my...god. What the fuck, Courtney?”

Courtney wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just giggled, covering most of her face with Bianca’s comforter, only her eyes peeking out.

“What are you doing back so soon, anyway?” she asked, and Adore rolled her eyes.

“It’s been like six hours.”

“Oh. Oops,” she said, another giggle slipping out before remembering where Adore had been. “How was Pearl’s?”

“A disaster.”

“I’m sorry,” Courtney said.

“Yeah. Well…” Adore sighed, then her eyes zeroed in on something and she laughed again. “Courtney. Are those yours?”

Courtney followed her gaze to the foot of the bed, where her panties had apparently landed.

“Yes, why?” Adore reached for them and Courtney slapped her hand away, laughing.

“Because! I know what kind of underwear you normally wear, and those...did you intentionally wear lacy little sex panties to come to my sister’s house today?”

Coutney pressed her lips together, saying nothing, and Adore shook her head with delight.

“Oh my god, you filthy lesbian slut.”

Courtney giggled some more, settling back against the pillows with a shrug.

“Adore...” Bianca walked in just then, holding Courtney’s purse and a stack of neatly folded clothes, which she set on the little bench at the foot of her bed. “Get your fucking shoes off my duvet, bitch!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Adore swung her legs to the ground and began removing her shoes.

“That didn’t mean take them off, that meant…” Bianca sighed. “We really need to discuss boundaries here.”

“Really? You want to discuss boundaries after fucking my best friend?”

Courtney brought up the covers to hide her laughter as Bianca shot her sister an irritated look.

“Alright alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She heaved herself off the bed and headed for the door, where she turned around and said, “Now, be safe, okay? We don’t want any pregnancies here-”

“Goodnight Adore!”

“Nighty night kids!” Adore blew one last kiss and then disappeared.

Bianca turned towards Courtney, shaking her head. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Courtney bit her lip. “Are you upset that she knows?”

“No. Are you?”

Courtney shook her head. “I’d have told her anyway.”

“Mmm...and what would you have told her, exactly?” Bianca began to untie her robe, one shoulder already slipping down.

“That...um…that we…” Courtney’s eyes roamed over Bianca’s body, pulse quickening. It was almost too much. The tits, the ass, those legs. Courtney was consumed with a desire to be pressed up against her smooth tan skin once again, wrapped in her and around her.

“That we what?” Bianca asked, now joining her under the covers, one hand sliding across her thigh. The husky voice right in her ear sending shivers up and down her body. “What did we do?”

Courtney whimpered, pushing Bianca onto her back and hovering over her, prolonging the torture by just looking at her, not touching.

“Oh, she’s in charge now, huh?” Bianca teased, trailing fingers up the back of her thighs.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney murmured, finally lowering her hips, pressing their bodies together as she went in for a kiss, wet and messy, spurred on by the fingers digging into her ass.

***

Pearl stumbled out of her bedroom, head pounding with a hangover from all the shots she’d consumed after Adore left, but seeking out the coffee she’d smelled from her bed. She assumed that Trixie and Katya would be lounging on the sofa, enjoying their day off and relaxing.

Instead, the sight that met her was an absolute explosion of Christmas kitsch. It seemed that, with Thanksgiving now behind them, the apartment was about to turn into a holly jolly nightmare.

There were yards and yards of garlands and colored lights, boxes of ornaments and holly and a big stuffed reindeer, multiple nativity scenes, Trixie’s snowglobe collection, some mechanical carolers with very strange off-putting faces that had to be Katya’s, and two Christmas trees, including a sparkly pink one that Trixie was currently assembling on the floor.

“Good morning Pearlie!” Trixie chirped. “Want some gingerbread coffee? We have eggnog creamer, too!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you guys,” Pearl croaked.

“Exactly!” exclaimed Katya, pulling a colorful banner out of one of the boxes that read ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!’

“You’re deranged,” Pearl told her. She felt like shit, and she wanted her friends to take care of her, but they seemed so happy. “Completely crazy.”

“Pearl, please have more respect for our lord and savior?” Trixie said, making both himself and Katya crack up, punctuating their lunacy with a high five.

Pearl stared at them for a few moments before turning on her heel. It was too early for this. She’d be better off back in bed.

Back in bed where her terrible mood couldn’t affect anyone but herself.

***

Bianca got up carefully, slipping from the bed so as not to disturb Courtney. They’d been up most of the night, and though Bianca had a billion things to do today, she wanted to let Courtney sleep in as long as possible.

She was out of the shower, fully moisturized and drying her hair by the time Courtney appeared in the bathroom doorway, tousled blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, wearing nothing but a sleepy smile on her face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bianca said, putting down the blow dryer and brush in her hands, eyes raking over Courtney’s naked body. “Nice PJs.”

“Hi,” Courtney replied, suddenly bashful, biting her lip.

“Come here.”

She walked forward, but when Bianca turned around to take hold of her hips, a hand flew up to cover her mouth.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“Do I look scared?” Bianca asked, one eyebrow raised, and Courtney lowered her hand slowly. Bianca leaned towards her, nuzzling her nose gently before grinning and moving to place a row of kisses along her jaw, finishing with a soft press to her lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Honestly? I can’t remember sleeping that well since...ever.” She grinned, then wrinkled her nose and added. “I really want to brush my teeth, though.”

Bianca laughed, giving her a pat on the ass and pulling open a drawer, getting out a new toothbrush, still in the package. “Knock yourself out.”

Courtney stepped up to the counter, picking it up and reaching for the toothpaste, tossing out a very deliberately casual, “There were a lot of toothbrushes in that drawer, huh?”

“I got a 24-pack.”

“Mmm,” Courtney raised the toothbrush to her mouth. “...So, how many are left?”

Bianca tossed her a sly look, asking, “You wanna count them?”

“No. Sorry.” Courtney looked embarrassed, eyes avoiding Bianca’s in the mirror.

“You know...whatever’s happened with other women...that has nothing to do with me and you,” Bianca said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just a little, uh…”

“You’re beautiful.” Bianca moved towards her, wrapping her into an embrace from behind, kissing her neck. Courtney tilted her head to give Bianca better access, eyes falling closed, when a knock nearby made them fly right back open again.

“Uh...morning guys...you fuckin’ or can I come in?” asked Adore’s voice.

“Be right back,” Bianca whispered in Courtney’s ear.

“Kay…”

Bianca tightened the belt on her robe and strode out into her sitting area, where Adore was perched on the armchair.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothin.’” Adore drew a little design in Bianca’s new area rug with her toe. “Just wondering if you wanted to get some brunch or whatevs.”

She was clearly a bit dejected, and Bianca took a few steps forward.

“I still have to pack, but...maybe you could take Courtney out? Have a girls’ day? On me?”

“Cool.”

“Are you alright?” Bianca asked softly.

“Yeah. Just like, feel kinda dumb for thinking, you know. That things would be any different.” Adore looked up, her blue eyes misty.

“You’re not dumb,” Bianca told her, putting her hands on her shoulders. “You just...trust people with your heart. And some people don’t deserve it.”

Adore nodded, letting out a dry, sad chuckle.

“But hey. Some day, you’ll meet someone who does. And they’re gonna love you so much,” Bianca promised, a thumb catching the tear that had begun falling down her left cheek.

“Thanks,” Adore sniffled, and Bianca pulled her in for a warm, tight hug. She held her close for a few moments, rocking her, then kissed her cheek. “You didn’t just make a pussy juice mark on my face, did you?”

“Ugh!” Bianca pushed her away, laughing. “Get the fuck out of here!”

Adore giggled, heading for the stairs, before turning and saying, “Hey, B?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“Back atcha, pussycat.”

***

“Mmh.”

“Hey sleeping beauty.” Sutan smiled, reaching out to push the blanket underneath Violet’s chin, the top of his girlfriend’s head touching his hip, the TV playing on low in the background. “How are we feeling? It’s still a couple of hours until your next dose.”

“Mmh?” Violet cracked an eye open, looking up at him. “M’okay.”

“And you’re sure?” Thanksgiving had taken more out of Violet than it seemed like either of them had expected.

“Mmh,” Violet smiled. “Stop worrying.”

“Okay, okay,” Sutan laughed. “I get it.”

They had been on the couch all day, which Sutan didn’t mind in the slightest, his laptop open on his knees as he was working through his emails, his phone on the table. Tamisha had sent him a long list of potentials other agents had found, but she wanted his opinion on them before signing them with the company on entry level contracts. He’d been meaning to get to it all week, but with all the chaos, this was the first chance he’d had to really dig in.

It was one of the things Sutan excelled at, several of the girls already rejected based off of their photos and videos, but he had a handful he wanted to see in person, a model not worth much in the high fashion industry if she only sparked through a camera lens.

One potential in particular had caught his eye. She only had a shaky full body phone photo from the day she had been discovered, and a few selfies, but there was something about her face that had instantly caught his professional attention in a way white girls rarely did, and he had known instinctively that she didn’t belong in L.A.

“Sutan?”

Sutan had fully expected for Violet to go back to sleep, her prescribed painkillers knocking her out completely, her eyes closed, but it didn’t seem like she was gone just yet.

“Do you need to make another call?”

“Why?” Sutan tried to keep his voice impassive, to not show the clench of his stomach on his face. He was used to everything from casual flings to his most serious relationships being annoyed with him working nights and weekends, but it was the reality of his career.

“It’s nice. Listening to you talk.” Violet yawned, hiding her mouth with her blanket. “Makes it easier to sleep.”

“Really?” Sutan chuckled, the answer the last one he had expected. “Well in that case. I’ll see what I can do.”

***

Courtney stirred her iced tea with a metal straw, trying not to get too lost in her head while Adore was in the restroom. Last night had been amazing. Magical, even. Everything she’d been dreaming of. And then this morning, that spark was still there--Bianca was so affectionate and sweet with her, making her feel special in spite of everything Courtney knew.

When she looked into Bianca’s eyes, she saw things that she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to, not after one night. Especially not the way Bianca had, very kindly and suavely, ushered her out for brunch with Adore. With the very believable excuse that she gets cranky when she packs, and she didn’t want to “subject” Courtney to that. So Courtney was pretty sure that she was a fleeting distraction, and she told herself over and over that she’d be okay with that. Whether it was actually true...that was another story.

Adore got back to the table, sighing with relief when she saw that the drinks were there. She sat down and quickly sucked down half her hurricane, then looked up at Courtney.

“So…”

“Yes?” Courtney asked sweetly.

“You have a lot to tell me, miss thing.”

“What do you want to know?” Courtney asked, a faint blush warming her cheeks already, since she had a pretty good idea of exactly what Adore wanted to know.

“Well first of all, um...I know it’s hard to tell what with her voice and all, but Bianca is a woman.”

“Oh shit, really?” Courtney asked, before breaking out into a grin.

“Since when do you fuck women?”

“Since...last night, I guess.”

“Are you like...gay? Bi? Or is this just another case of my sister bagging a curious straight girl?” Adore asked, taking another sip, almost done with her cocktail already. “Shit, I should really have ordered two of these.”

“You could drink your water.”

“Gross.” Adore rapped her knuckles on the table. “Answer the question!”

“Uh...I dunno, I haven’t really thought about labels. But…” she shrugged, a smile pulling at her mouth. “I’m definitely not straight. Not after that.”

Adore laughed, then asked, “So has this really never come up for you before?”

“I mean...you know my brother’s gay. Like very gay.” Courtney rested her chin on her hand. “A full time drag queen.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I dunno, I guess there was always this kind of thing with my parents, like ‘yeah we have one glorious sparkly camp child and one...plain one,’” she said with an apologetic little shrug.

Adore laughed harder at that, signaling to the server for another drink. “You were the bland unseasoned child, huh?”

“Yeah. And it was so obvious with him, and everyone knew and I guess I just thought...that being gay was this intrinsic magical thing that’s really clear. Or like, some giant revelation that comes to you all at once.”

“So...then did you ever have feelings for a girl before?”

“Kind of...but I always sort of rationalized it away. You know, that it’s normal to admire female beauty and girls are just prettier than boys and they smell nicer and...” Courtney sighed. “I think I thought that if I could force myself to tolerate a man, then I must be straight. Cause that’s what straight women do.”

“Ugh, so sad.”

“I know, right? But yeah. I guess I...have always liked girls, but I just didn’t think it meant I liked girls.”

“You know I would have gladly helped you work these feelings out in college.”

Courtney laughed, giving her a soft kick under the table.

“Man. Just when I think Bianca’s losing it, she scores a fucking ace…”

“Why thank you,” Courtney said, fluttering her lashes and tossing her hair.

“So like...are you guys gonna be dating or...what’s the deal?” Adore asked, giving the server a wink as she set down her new drink.

“I don’t know. I guess...whatever she wants.”

“But what do you want?”

“I…” Courtney hadn’t really thought about it much. She figured the whole thing was entirely out of hands. Everyone told her, everyone warned her--Bianca doesn’t do relationships. Bianca does flings. So in her mind, the best she’d hoped for was a fling that lasted more than a night. But now she was going to Tokyo for a week and Courtney has a strong suspicion that even half the world away, the mere thought of her would still be able to conjure up tingling sense memories on Courtney’s skin. She looked up at Adore, who was patiently waiting for an answer, and admitted, “I really like her.”

Adore nodded, and Courtney continued.

“She’s just so smart and commanding and sexy and I just-”

Adore’s nose wrinkled at the word ‘sexy,’ but Courtney went on.

“Well, she is.”

“You know she’s like...old enough to be your mother, right? I mean not for nothing, but there are women our age who would gladly fuck you. I promise.”

“The thing is…” Courtney leaned forward, eyes glittering, lowering her voice to say, “I think her age is kind of...part of it? She’s just so successful and confident and she knows who she is. If I even had an ounce of that, I’d be set. And the sex? Was like…”

“That’s my sister, please proceed with caution.”

“It was so fucking good,” Courtney said, trying not to gush or get too detailed. “I’ve never...I mean I know I have no real frame of reference for sex with a woman but it was...transcendent. It’s like I was living in this two-dimesional world and suddenly not only was it 3D, but it was like...more than that. A kaleidoscope.”

“Did y’all fuck or do mushrooms?”

“I’ve done mushrooms before. Last night was...a billion times better.”

“Damn.” Adore shook her head, lifting her glass. “Well...here’s to more transcendent fucking.”

“Cheers,” Courtney laughed, clinking glasses with her.

***

Fame sighed, sliding even further into the bathtub and wiggling her toes, music playing in the background as bubbles and rose petals surrounded her body.

She was thankfully, blissfully alone, Patrick taking his family to Radio Music Hall for a show.

The thoughts of scalding hot water and complete privacy was the only thing that had carried her through the morning, her mother-in-law daring to say to Fame’s face that their coffee selection was subpar, as if her beans weren’t flown in directly from Colombia.

Fame was considering if it’d be worth it to add a few drops of essential oils to her bath, when she heard her phone buzz,  but instead of picking it up from where she had placed it on the edge of the marble tub, she ignored it.

Or, she would have, if it didn’t buzz again, and then again and again.

Fame sat up, water dripping from her body as she reached for her phone, annoyance flaring in her chest when she saw Pearl’s name.

Didn’t she realize she was still upset with her?

She was seconds away from just deleting the messages without reading them, when yet another one ticked in, and curiosity won her over.

PEARL: I know we’re not talking right now

PEARL: Which sucks

PEARL: You were right though

PEARL: I’m a bad and terrible person

PEARL: Just thought you should know that I understand

Fame paused, reading the messages once more, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Her silence had only been meant as a punishment, a way to show Pearl her displeasure, to make Pearl understand that she couldn’t just go against her direct commands or orders without a consequence, but this was never what Fame had intended.

Pearl was many things, but a bad person wasn’t one of them.

Fame pressed down, holding the phone to her ear, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

“... Hello? Fame? Is that you?”

“Come over. Right now.”

[only-lonely-stars]

The Future is Bright, Chapter 3

[Chapter 1 (Beginning)] // [Chapter 2] // [Chapter 3 - you are here!] // [Chapter 4] // [Chapter 10 (End)] (FFN)

Shintaro is much like normal, but Princess Vania is... pretty nice. One wonders just how affected they really were by what happened.

Summary: What would happen if Cole had indeed had a reflection in the tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master? How would that have changed his life later? What would it have been? This story follows what might have happened if he had seen something, and what it was; who he would have become. What if his future was already decided?... (Rated T for safety. Alternate title: the Cosmic Spoilers AU.)

Chapter 3: Under the Mountain

The following days, or perhaps weeks, after the Ninja's arrival in Shintaro were a blur. It was just as much of an adventure as Cole has expected– rarely were their travels anything but adventure– and it ended up being rather exciting… in that stomach-turning way that made him anxious for his family's well-being and proud of how well they fought.

Their Shintaran adventure was better than most, when Cole thought about it afterward, already getting ready to go back to the Monastery of Spinjitzu. For once, no one was dead, or half-dead. No one was possessed, or scarred. No one was sent to another realm, or dimension, or anything! Everyone was… okay. They could leave in peace. There was no lasting damage, there were no painful memories... it was all just something good, for once, with new friends and new lands and new hopes.

Of course, the Ninja weren't the only people involved, and Cole wasn't selfish enough to ignore those who were arguably much more affected than they were. The Upply, the Geckles, the Munce, the Shintarans themselves… all of them were affected in that deeply intrinsic way one is changed by one's first adventure. The Upply were brave, the Geckles and Munce got along– the Shintarans were even considering ending their isolation! Their whole world had turned on its axis in a short week or so, and the Ninja were the cause.

Though the Ninja had changed Shintaro, the Shintarans had changed the Ninja's world, too. Ninjago itself was different. Each of their citizens was different and interesting, although they had barely met any of them, and it was fascinating getting to know them. With that said, if there was one Shintaran out of the rest who was most affected in Cole's mind, it had to be Princess Vania. She wasn't even Princess anymore; she was Queen Vania, sole ruler of the entire kingdom. Her deposed father had his title stripped immediately, and she had taken it up with comfortable ease, just as she was always meant to have it.

When Cole thought about Vania, he had to smile. She was the sort of girl that he thought more people should be like– strong, brave, and independent. She'd been more girlish at the start of their journey under the mountain, but by the time it had ended, she'd grown; she wielded her glaive and royal authority with adept swiftness that he couldn't help but admire. She was a fellow leader.

In fact, she was a really good fit for royalty… Lloyd could probably have taken lessons from her on how to assume power, back in the day.

Power… that was another thing to think about, wasn't it? Cole had received a lot of power during this trip. Now, he looked down at his hands and saw a faint, pulsing of orange right under the skin, just next to where his veins were. It brightened and dimmed with his heart's pulse, and he could feel its buzzing strength if he touched his wrist, or his neck at the jugular artery. It was the pulse of his power, passed down from his mother just like his life and breath were, and stronger than ever.

Now divorced from the events of the trip below the mountain, Cole could smile again at what he'd found. He hadn't imagined he'd find a temple, much less to his mother and ancestors! A sacred place for the Masters of Earth, where incredible power was housed for those who would seek it. A home for the history that was long since forgotten. It was almost too good to be true. He would say he didn't believe it, but he did; he believed it only because he had harnessed the Spinjitzu Burst and defeated the ancient evil his mother had defeated before him. With Vangelis locked up and the power of Earth more securely within his grasp, Cole could smile in peace– he was more connected to his mother than ever before. Earth was his link to the past…

What of a link to the future, though? His vision? What he'd seen in the First Master's tomb? He still remembered it, but the details had faded from his mind. He couldn't remember the details of it, let alone what he'd worn; just that it was some tunic, in white and blue.

Colors he never wore.

Garments he'd never seen before.

It was too similar to Shintaro to ignore, and he simply had to hope that maybe, just maybe… it would be okay. Maybe it wasn't here.

Despite all that, he didn't see it happening. Maybe it wasn't coming yet. Maybe he could still avoid it a little longer… and in the meantime, he couldn't stay in Shintaro forever.

When it was finally time to leave Shintaro, it was the evening after Vania's coronation. The sun was setting when they made to leave in the Bounty, embracing the wind and sun on their faces. They still wore the armor given to them by the Geckles and Munce; they hadn't wanted them back, and they gave a semblance of purpose at the coronation, with all its pomp and circumstance. Cole's was particularly comfortable; he wondered if he should keep it as a usual part of his gi. It didn't hurt that it was gold, like his mother's favorite things... his mind was often on her now.

When they at last made ready to leave, the group exited the palace. They were joined by the many from the audience, led by Queen Vania in the very front. She smiled benevolently, like a proper queen, but just as sweetly as he'd come to expect. As the group split to say their goodbyes, she stuck close to Lloyd, talking quietly… Cole couldn't help but notice as he went to the Upply for his goodbyes.

"So long, fellas." He grinned at them. "This is goodbye."

"Good luck to you, Sir Ninja," Fungus said, bowing.

"And there will be hot bowl of soup waiting for you in Metalonia!" Korgran added, sniffling. "...Korgran will miss Cole."

"I'll miss you too, Korgran." He looked to Plundar, who had finally removed his hood to reveal his black hair. "Stay out of trouble, Plundar! You too, Adam."

Adam chirred, and Plundar smirked. "Where's the fun in that? We've got to do something now that we don't get a real eyeful of you and Vania dancing around."

"I– dancing around? What do you mean?"

"What Plundar means is that you and Vania have quite the connection," Fungus commented. "It's intriguing; we will miss seeing you both."

He shrugged. "Well, I'll miss her too, and all of you, so… yeah. That makes sense."

"Oh!" A familiar, feminine voice called out. "Cole!"

Cole turned back to the proper end of the pier. Lit in the sunset, Vania stood there, wearing her new crown. She was watching him with a little smile and a faint pink blush that seemed to be somewhat permanent, but wasn't an unpleasant sight. Far from it, it countered her pale complexion in rather pretty way. Cole couldn't help but smile at her and come up to the pier, so they were facing each other.

"I wish you could stay," Vania admitted to him, hands fidgeting. "I could use your help."

"You don't need me!" Cole grinned, grabbing one of her hands and clasping it tightly in his hand and raising the two between them. "You're one of the strongest and bravest people I've ever met."

She seemed to light up at his compliment, smiling even more than she had been. "Well, in that case… if you ever need my help, all you have to do is ask and I will bring the entire army of Shintaro to your aid."

"Thanks, Vania." He squeezed her hand gently. "Still feel like you want me to stay?"

"Well, I'd still like to have you here longer." She giggled a little. "Are you sure you can't? I'm really going to miss you."

"Yeah... I'm sure." He squeezed her hand. "I'll come back to visit, okay? Sooner rather than later."

"Okay. I'll look forward to it." She let go of his hand with that same sweet smile. "Have a safe trip home, Cole!"

"Thanks!"

That was all they said to each other before they parted. After a few more warm goodbyes, they boarded the Destiny's Bounty, and took off. As their journey back to Ninjago and the Monastery began, he couldn't help smiling; whatever came next, he hoped it would be as nice as Shintaro, with all its whites and blues.

Cole sighed as he looked out over the mountains. Shintaro was definitely where his vision was set, but… would it really be so bad if his future came to visit him there? Especially with such a good friend in Shintaro?