#Especially since you all apparently know what happens this could be some heavy stuff.

[error-432]

you holding up ok?

…Yeah. I-I’m doing fine.

[gabessquishytum]

Ok so you know how the comics take place in the same universe as the justice league and all those guys? And you know how in the comic of 24/7 there's some local, small town superhero on TV, suggesting that any random loser can be a superhero? Do you see where I'm going with this?

Superhob: mild-mannered professor by day, scourge of London's criminal underworld by night. Calls himself The Immortal, doesn't appear to have any superpowers but fights with all kinds of old-timey weapons like maces and crossbows and stuff. He's been shot and stabbed and blown up and all kinds of things that really should have killed him, but he just keeps coming back. Probably has an ongoing rivalry/sexual tension with Johanna.

Could be a fishbowl rescue, and/or maybe he manages to catch the Corinthian? Or like, he somehow manages to cross paths with Dream shortly after he gets out of the fishbowl and they just do the Spiderman pointing meme at each other. Idk, I didn't have any particular plot in mind but I feel like there's a lot of potential there...

-🍓

This is such a great idea!!! Especially with the whole plot with The Sandman becoming a superhero through Jed's dreams (in the show)

I like the idea of a fishbowl rescue - Hob’s been hearing these rumours about fawney rigg for years, and one day he just happens to be in the area. He figures he'll take a look, since he's already in costume/fully equipped with weapons. Turns out he only has to bonk an old man over the head with the butt of his sword, so it's not very complicated to infiltrate the Manor. But what he finds in the basement in a lot more complicated, that's for sure.

He gets Dream out of the glass, glad that he's got such array of pointy, heavy medieval weapons. He can't get over the fact that he's just rescued his stranger. His stranger apparently can't get over the fact that Hob is trying to be a superhero (Hob resents the word trying - he's a very good superhero thanks very much).

Dream is like "Well thanks very much but now I have to find all my stuff" and Hob is like "cool! I'll help!" So superhob and the sandman join forces, to look for the sand (Hob has a pretty good idea that Jo had some weird magic pouch at one point). Maybe along the way they discuss the whole 1889 misunderstanding. Dream admits that maybe they are friends now. Even if Hob’s superhero identity is kind of cringe.

I quite like the idea of Dream going to hell (and refusing to let Hob come), so while he's gone Hob goes and looks for the Corinthian and a lot of stabbing goes down, but ultimately Hob captures Cori and when Dream comes back, he finds his rogue nightmare bound up with ancient magic while Hob sits on his chest and smiles smugly.

Maybe Superhob is a little more competent than Dream was willing to admit...

[justmeinadaze]

I'm In Control Part 7 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I bare you your crack for the weekend. Snort your serotonin slowly please lol <3

Warnings: Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie and all that that implies (I regret nothing). She really pushes them this time so some degrading from the guys, slapping, and a bit of the rough stuff. All three talk about their traumas. Y/N talks about her religious trauma a bit more. May be triggering if you grew up in a household or town like that. My bio mom liked to pretend she did she I heard a lot of this same stuff myself.

Word Count: 3276

Boys,

Went to work. 

See you later :) 

-Y/N

“Should we be worried?”, you place your head in your hands as you look at TJ who’s casually lounging on one of your couches.

“I don’t think so but it’s something to be cautious of. You may want to call your clients down here and just bring them up to speed.”

“Well, I told them I was going to see them at their shoot tonight but if I know them, they are probably on their way down here anyway.”

“I haven’t seen bullshit like this since the early nineties—” 

A small knock on your door interrupts him as it slowly opens. “Hey, sorry. We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?”, Steve cautiously pokes his head through. 

You smirk at your boss who chuckles. “You’re amazing. No boys. I actually wanted to speak with you. Come in.”

“Why do you sit on top of your desk like that when you have a thousand chairs?”, Eddie asks as he leans against the edge of it next to you.

“Makes me feel tall. Also Mr. Munson, I’m not sure if you saw but the sign on the door says it’s my office so I can do whatever I want.” He scrunches his nose at your playful tone. 

Steve steals your desk chair, gliding closer to you and TJ. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently, the cops raided a set the other night.”, TJ sighs as you press play on your tv. He gestures towards it as he continues. “Our wonderful city officials are trying to look good so they are cracking down ‘drugs’ and ‘prostitution’.” 

“But…none of that is happening.”, Eddie folds his arms as he watches the screen. 

“Not with any of my people and sets I work with. You guys know if you see any of that kind of shit, you let me or Y/N know.”

Steve lets out a heavy sigh as he leans back in his chair. You reach for the stress ball on your desk and throw it at his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”, you flash him a comforting smile. 

“We just want you guys to be aware. It really shouldn’t be a problem especially on Luke’s set. His studio is so big I don’t think they would even dare try it.” He glances at the three of you before clearing his throat. 

“Since everyone is here…”

“My other client isn’t here.”, you interject.

“Yeah, but I know where he is. I keep losing you three.” TJ stands, trying to make himself more authoritative. “Where were you guys yesterday?”

“Audition.”

He turned to face you. “All day? Really?”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Auditionsssss.” You make sure to put obnoxious emphasis on the S. 

Your boss narrows his eyes at you as both men try to contain their smiles. 

“You, young lady, are lucky I like you.”, he points his finger sternly. “From now on if I call you answer. If we have an event or party EVERYONE must remain there until I dismiss you. Understood?”

You faux salute him. “Yes, sir.”

“Gentlemen?” They affirm with mumbled yeahs. “Good. Now that all that is out of the way, I’m going to go back to my office and eat my delicious lunch in peace. Don’t bother me.”

He grins, jokingly pushing your shoulder as he leaves you office. 

Your eyes shift between them, Eddie’s head was down towards his sneakers as Steve was still looking at the TV.

“Wow. Well, don’t get shy on me now.”

“Are you ok?”, Eddie was the first to speak. “I…I didn’t hurt you or anything, right?”

“Eddie…”

“Steve was right. We weren’t in the right frame of mind. I definitely wasn’t.”

“Eddie, it’s okay. I’m ok.” You wrap your arm around his shoulder, pulling him in front of you so you could hug him from behind. “You didn’t hurt me. Not physically anyway…” His chest rose and fell as he sighed. 

Your eyes flicked to Steve who was watching you both. “I’m sorry I smacked you.”

His nose scrunched as he shrugged. “I deserved it.”

“Oh, okay. Well, fuck you then.” You and Steve smirked at each other. 

“I’m sorry for being an asshole.” He slides his chair closer to the both of you. 

“I know we said we would talk later but I feel like I should at least get this out now. I’m not sorry for what I said in the parking lot…or back at the house. I’m still extremely angry you didn’t talk to me. I understand why you didn’t, agent and client and all that but… it just hurts that you guys don’t trust me.”

“We trust you.”

“Daddy and Sir, trust me. Steve and Eddie don’t.”

##################

“Cut! Steve! Do we have a problem?”

“No! No… no fucking problem.”

“Ok, well, you can’t do anything with it soft, son.”

You and Eddie look at each other from your spot behind the camera as you sigh and reassuringly pat his arm. 

“Mr. Harrington!”, you beckon him gently with your finger. 

“Y/N, get his mind right or else—”

“Or else what?”, you cut the director off as you grab Steve’s hand. “Jason, if you want him to use his dick you need to get off his and relax, okay? We’re a bit overamped with everything going on.”

You tug the man into a corner behind the set where no one else could hear or see you. 

“Talk to me, babe.”

“I don’t know…I just…can’t focus.”, he sighs as he runs his fingers frustratingly through his hair. 

“Steve, look at me.” You slide your hand down his chest to the outside of the boxers they had him wearing, rubbing your hand below his waist. “When you go back out there, don’t focus on the cameras or the director. Don’t focus on yesterday…”

His shoulders deflated as he exhaled. “Hey no. Focus on me, Daddy.” Steve’s eyebrow raised coyly as he softly smiled. You felt his cock gradually begin to harden against your palm. “If it helps just pretend she’s me.”

“Mmm… but she’s not you.”

“I know. That’s the magic of acting.”, you giggle as he grins, running his tongue his lips. You lean closer to his chest as his head falls on to your shoulder. “Everything’s going to be alright, Steve. I promise.”

His lips find yours for a moment before you pull away. “You ready?”

He nods, going around you with a more determined stride as he heads back to the set. 

##################

Eddie throws their keys on the counter as the three of you head into their house.

Your eyes scan their exhausted looking frames. “Do you guys want to crash and we can talk tomorrow?”

“No. We should get this out of the way now.”

“Wow. Thanks Steve. That makes me feel special.”, you scowl at him.

“Honestly, I… I don’t know why we are doing this. We can’t have a romantic relationship. It would be hidden and only we would know about.”

“Okay. So why does the whole world have to fucking know?”

“Because you would be ours.”, Eddie interjects as he leans his back against their couch. 

“Ohhhh, I see. So you don’t trust me enough to tell other men to fuck off so you need to parade me around so they KNOW to stay away.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That is seriously hilarious to me. You know that you two literally fuck people every single day and it doesn’t bother me?”

Steve slyly chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, but what if we were at a club or event and some random girl just climbed on my lap or started making out with Munson here. How would that make you feel?”

“In that scenario that would piss me off but I would…I would hope if we were in a relationship, you would tell that girl to respect your boundaries and get off your lap. I would trust you. God, Steve, why are you like this?”

When he doesn’t answer, you sigh in frustration as you step away. “Okay…” You bite your lip as you pace between them with your hands on your hips. “Okay. I have an idea. I want to talk to Daddy and Sir.”

They glance at each other, completely confused. “They trust me. Maybe they can help you say what you need to say.”

“No.”

You pout your lips, allowing your body to slowly push you into that headspace to get them where they need to be. “Please, Daddy.”

Steve’s face twitches slightly at your tone. “I said no.” 

You saunter back over to him, untangling his arms in front of his chest as you glide your hands up his body. “Pleeeeeease. Steven is afraid to open up to me and I need to know why.”

When his eyes met yours, you knew he was there. Daddy was ready to play. 

Steve reached for your throat, gripping it tightly in his huge hand. “I told you not to call me that AND I said no. Geez, Eddie. She never listens.”

He released his hold on you, shoving you backwards into a broad chest. “Probably never been disciplined properly.” You quickly turn around to see Eddie glaring down at you with his beautiful brown eyes. Since you three had begun your dynamic, you had learned little details about their body language and tone. Eddie’s voice told you that Sir hadn’t completely come out yet. 

“Oh, but Mr. Munson. I have.”, your hands reach up to cup his cheeks. “I came from an aggressive religious upbringing, remember? They were way more strict than you could ever be especially since you can’t seem to take charge without Daddy’s help.”

His strong hands shot up, gripping your wrists, and aggressively pulling them off his face. “I don’t need his help or permission to handle brats like you.” There he is.

“I don’t think I’m the one that needs handling.”

Eddie pushes himself off the couch, staring down at you as he bumps you with his chest. “I know you do.”

“How do you know that, Eddie?” You try to maintain your confident tone but it shakes as he bumps you again, walking you backward towards the bedroom. 

“Well, for one, you can’t seem to remember who you’re talking to.” He turns to Steve who has been steadily following behind. “Stupid little girl wants to know more but can’t even follow simple instructions.” His hand grabs you jaw, holding you still.

“Who am I?”

“Sir.”

Eddie shoves you back hard against the doorframe, making you wince. “Louder.”

“Sir!”

“Good girl. Hopefully you’ll remember it this time.” You stumble onto the floor as he pushes you into the room. They both come in and sit on the edge of the bed, stepping over you as they do. 

“Why…don’t you…trust me?”

Steve grins as he beckons you over with his finger. You obey, crawling to his lap on your knees. His fingers gently trace along your cheek down to your lips. 

“Because you are a whore.”

Your chest caves in as you exhale, searching his eyes for an explanation.

“Aw, Eddie. I don’t think that was the answer she was expecting.”, he says with a voice dripping with mocking. “You think you’re the first woman we’ve done this with? Where are they now, honey? They aren’t here. They. Leave. They always do.”

You saw pain flash quickly through his eyes and disappear just as fast. 

“Girls like you use us and then when you’re done, you’re gone.”

“You…haven’t known me for…for very long. Why do you think I would hurt you like that?”

“Like he said,” Eddie looked down at you with contempt. “You all do. Everyone in our lives leave. Anytime my mom fucked up in some way, she would blame it on me and my dad would beat my ass. When he got arrested…it’s like she saw no further use for me. There was no one to shield her from so she dumped me on my uncle’s doorstep and ran.”

Your heart ached for him as he hung his head. Your hand started to reach for his knee but you stopped, allowing it to hover. “Can I touch you?” Eddie didn’t verbally answer, instead placing his palm over yours and guiding it to his leg. 

You glanced back at Steve who was now glaring into the void. “Daddy?” He subtly shakes his head. “Talk to me, baby. Please. Help me understand.”

“Haven’t I given you enough?!”, he snaps. Your nose scrunches as you glare at him. 

You chuckle sarcastically as a light bulb suddenly goes off in your head. “Oh, I get it. Is that why you prefer Daddy? Was Mr. Harrington not so nice to Steven?”

Both sets of eyes abruptly look at you as you rise to your feet. You can tell just by Eddie’s look alone you’re very close to the target. Steve slowly stands well, his eyes penetrating yours. 

“Color, Princess?” Your eyes never left Steve’s but you could see in your peripherals and by the sound of his voice that Eddie knew the real game was about to get started. 

“Green, Sir.”

“You remember what you have to say for us to stop, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Steve’s hand connected with your face causing you to take a few steps backwards. 

“Why do you keep pushing, little girl?”

“Because I want to understand!”

He slapped you again, this time a bit harder than before. “Why?!”

“Why do you fight it so hard, Steve?!”

As he went to hit you, you ducked down and shoved his chest. Eddie intervened, grabbing your upper arms and holding them behind your back. Steve slid off his belt and handed it to the boy behind you who used it to tie your wrists together. 

He tossed you to the bed on your stomach, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. You heard clothes being removed behind you before Steve climbed on top of you. You yelped as he smacked your ass, pressing your face into the mattress as he sheathed himself inside of you. 

He gave you no warning or time to adjust as he began roughly thrusting into you. The man laid his full weight on top of you, pushing himself deeper into you as he continued his assault on your pussy. 

“Got nothing to say now huh, little one? Had plenty to say earlier when you were mouthing off. You still seem to think you have some control over us but you don’t, you fucking slut. You never will so stop making demands and stop pushing.”

“Then why do you have feelings for me?”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Is that what he told you?” You whimpered as he thrust into your harder. “Your—mmm—you’re not an idiot—mmm-- for caring. You deserve to…fuck… to be cared for the way you do for other people.”

Steve pulled out of you and flipped you around, lifting your legs around his waist as he entered you again. 

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“How did you know you could trust Eddie?”

His brown eyes shifted towards his friend before looking back at you. You craned your neck to kiss his lips and he allowed it. His head fell beside yours as he pumped his hips harder against yours. 

“I care about you to, Daddy. I like you a lot. Both of you.” You gently kissed the shell of his ear as his hips sputtered and he came inside of you, his body trembling above you. 

“Fuck. Baby…I…”

“It’s ok, Daddy. It’s ok.”

“I can take care of her, buddy. Come here, sweetheart.” Steve rolled out of the way as Eddie lifted you onto his lap and leaned his back against the headboard. He reaches behind you untying the belt and tossing it to the floor.

You straddle his waist, taking his cock in your hand and gradually began sliding yourself down onto him. You both groan at the feeling as your head falls to his forehead. Eddie notices that your hands remain on your thighs as you start grinding and bouncing your hips. 

His own palms glide down your arms, grabbing your wrists and placing your arms over his shoulders. He leans in to kiss your lips.

“You can touch me, pretty girl. It’s alright.”

Eddie giving you more control drove you wild as your pussy tightened around him. 

“Fucking hell. Come on, baby. Make yourself cum.” His fingers dug into your waist as he guided you, moving you faster against him. 

“Can I…please, Sir…” When he nodded his head, you completely let go; tossing your head back as you came.

His arms wrapped around you as he lifted himself up onto his knees, thrusting into you as you clung your yourself to him. Eddie loved the way your body fit perfectly against him. If he had his way, he would never let you go. He grunted into your neck and you both moaned when you felt him cum inside you. 

He expected you to let him go but when you didn’t, he sat back down on the mattress, running his hands through your hair and down your back. 

“My dad was never around. Actually, neither of my parents were.” You climbed off the metalhead’s lap to turn and look at Steve who was staring into the void again. “My father was a cheating dick head who always made sure to remind me I was never good enough.”

You watched him as he got up, disappearing into the bathroom and coming back with a rag. Eddie motioned for you to sit in front of him and you did, opening your legs so the other boy could take care of you. 

“I know that feeling.” When Steve’s eyes meet yours, you deliver him a tender smile. “Religious family, remember. My brother and I were always reminded how terrible we were and not just from our parents but the church and the town. My mom and dad didn’t even see me off when I moved here. They said California is a state of sin.” You roll your eyes as you sigh. 

“I imagine they don’t know what you do?”, Steve asked as he threw the rag haphazardly into the bathroom doorway. 

“Pfft, God no. They’d lose their minds. Kidnap me and probably take me back home.”, you laugh. 

“We wouldn’t let that happen.”, Eddie grinned as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Do you really think I’m a whore?” You felt the arms around you stiffen. 

“No.” Steve’s voice was so low you could barely hear him. 

“Um, louder, Daddy. I can’t hear you.” You playfully tilt your ear towards him and a smile spread across his face. 

“I said no, beautiful.” You grin as you lean back against Eddie’s chest. “I think, like Eds said yesterday, we’re jaded. It’s…easier to lump you in with the other girls we’ve been with because—”

“We like you so much it will hurt less when you leave.”, the other man finishes. 

“When I leave… Gentlemen, I don’t plan on going anywhere any time soon. I get it though. I really do. You’ve been hurt by so many people… but I promise not just as your agent or your friend or… you’re safe with me. There’s no rush. We don’t even have to put a label on it. Let’s just see what happens.”

“I can do that.” Eddie tenderly kisses your shoulder.

“Me to.” Steve reaches out to move a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Good. Now, can we eat because I’m fucking starving.”

#################

@gracieluvthemoon @e-munson666 @luna-munson83

@lunatictardis @corrodedcorpses @big-ope-vibes

@eddiesguitarskills @brittney69 @mandyjo8719

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@skyesthebomb @sherrylyn628 @eli-flower @aejae-ssi

[toytanks]

You asked for billford prompts. Could i request something of them meeting while ford is on the run in the multiverse? Maybe them meeting while bill is possessing someone and ford doesnt realize at first that its him.

done!! i got a little carried away so its a bit bill heavy haha 😅 read on ao3 here!

So here Bill was, minding his own business, actually doing something good for once (he knows, lame, right?) and of course Stanford “dreamboat” Pines had to show up and ruin his fun the one time Bill didn’t want his Fordsy around.

See, how it started was Py and the guys told him they were ‘worried’ and ‘concerned’ and ‘wanted to know if he was okay’ and all that performative stuff. Apparently he hadn’t come out in weeks and that they thought his feelings towards his Fordsy had gotten a little ‘obsessive.’ He’d tried telling them the obvious that obsession was beneath him like all mortal emotions but they wouldn’t budge. An ‘intervention’ they called it.

So, he promised that he’d do something different, go outside and set his mind to something else.

But what to do? Bill’s restless at the best of times so it was a difficult choice. While considering his options he got (very rudely) snared by a band of rampant energy. He ripped the offending thing off of him, snarling, before being struck with an appealing idea.

See, when dimensions explode violently and into pretty fireworks, some of the energy holding them together gets spaghettified into long strands of unbridled force that ping across the multiverse like a snapped rubber band, destroying everything in their path. This is, of course, hilarious, except for when they hit him. Unfortunately, due to his current preference for the physical plane, and the staggering size of the Nightmare Realm, they tend to hit him a lot.

Thankfully, it's little more than time consuming to beat these strands into submission. In a process not too dissimilar to human weaving (although he’d never admit the similarities) he can wrangle the energy into a more useful and less (fun) volatile form.

All this to say, he was removing a minor nuisance in his own self interest, and if it happened to also make the multiverse safer and happier, well Bill would just have to deal with it. After all, he could make the multiverse plenty unsafe and unhappy on his own terms later.

The form he chooses is not one he’s been in in a while. It is long and serpentine, with hundreds of thousands of short, stubby legs, harkening back to the human notion of a millipede. Although he came first, of course. The only resemblance to his more snazzy form is a transparent triangular mask hovering over his front end.

Using longer arms not directly connected to his main body, he pulls out and sets up his loom.

Certain foolish amphibians and seven-eyed brats would not think he’d the patience for such a task. Bill thinks they should try shutting their mouths before they talk about something they don't understand.

Rolling his eye, Bill had set to work.

Now, back in the present, he finds himself staring down at the very human he’d been trying to take his mind off of. Great.

It's not particularly a surprise-- he’d known it would happen like he knows that in 15 years the human will almost be the death of him. Hard to surprise an all-knowing being, you know? --but it's a nuisance all the same.

Ford, for his part, doesn’t seem to have the good sense to notice his annoyance and run away pleading for his life. This does not surprise him.

What does, is the fact that Fordsy doesn’t seem to even realize it's him, either.

It's almost insulting. What kind of devotee doesn’t recognize when his God is standing right in front of him? It is, of course, a simple thing, that Bill can’t possibly fault him for (not that he won't try). He simply figures Fordsy didn't spend enough time with him on the upper planes to recognize him on feel alone. So be it, he’s not too heartbroken about losing that future. Especially since Ford’s awed expression promises that this route will be fun too.

“Hello there.” Bill says to him, making sure he doesn’t sound too much like himself. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise too early!

And then Fordsy goes the most adorable shade of pink at being noticed by something so otherworldly, and Bill decides right then that maybe he doesn’t ever want Ford to learn the truth.

[tempkiriri]

Tiger & Bunny Week (Day 1)

Technically I'm late but uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

April 2: Favorite Character, Episode, Movie, and/or Song

Most people seem to be doing them all, but I'll be skipping movie since there's only 2 of them.

Favourite Character:

MY CRINGEFAIL SON IVAN!!!! I relate to him immensely, even his dynamic with Edward I'd say I can somewhat relate to with someone in my life. It's uncanny. He tries his best to be outgoing but anxiety and self esteem issues sure are fucking bitches, so he can only really do it behind a mask. Even in S2 whilst his whole outlook may have taken a bit of a rollback, that's honestly realistic, not everyone can just keep marching and continuously improving themselves, there are setbacks and holes you can fall into at times. I wish we knew more about his personal life beyond his backstory of getting bullied as a child + what vague stuff we have of his hero academy days, a lot of heroes suffer from this, however. His passion for his hobbies is also just like me. He's cringe but he is free, just like many of us wish to be. Runner up is Keith I love the Autistic dog man

Favourite Episode:

I gotta go with Sky's The Limit. The title is a very OH GEE WHOS FOCUS EPISODE IS THIS kind but genuinely it doesn't prepare you for the content. There's a wholeass lore drop, an intense fight scene with a robot, and of course Keith being Keith. It also puts into focus just how much pressure heroes are put under when it comes to the rankings, and second place apparently not being enough for Poseidon Line is a very corporate reality. It's go big or go home. The ending is also like OH MY GOD IM CRYING???? Like, we know Cis isn't very capable of behaving like a human, but Keith doesn't realise she's not human at all, he treats her as any other person and falls harder than an anvil for her despite their short time in contact. It makes me think that Cis had a potential to be something, someone more than she was initially made for. And these two are a bit of a guilty pleasure ship that me and like 2 other people in the west side seem to ship and yes I will be taking those "Keith is still lowkey in love with her even in S2 era" crumbs thank you-

Favourite Song:

Oh shit this is where it gets tricky. I have so many, so I'll split it into categories:

OP: Earth Diver ED: Pilot Character Song: GHHHAAAAAA DONT MAKE ME CHOOOOOSE Other supplementary Song: Orion Wo Nazoru Hero Cover

I can't really put to words for Earth Diver, but I really like how it starts and kinda soothes you into the song before it really kicks. The lyrics are also very passionately sung.

I really like the calmer tone of Pilot and even though the explicitness of the shippyness isn't as heavy as Aida, the subtlety honestly fits them more. The credits themselves are also just beautiful; the visual aspect of them hits immensely hard in ep 14 especially since you saw what could happen to their suits in the fight the episode prior, and they're both no longer in their prime. Closing it out as they stare at the sunset makes me emotional and Proud Fiesta I love you but goddamn why did you return for Episode 25 that was a fucking mood killer I stg.

I love a lot of the character songs, with the ones from Best Of Hero very enjoyable romps, especially Mikirezakura and Thanks and Thanks Again, the energy these two songs have makes you wanna coreograph something. Some other highlights are POWER OF JUSTICE and Aaa Hero Suit. (Also Hidden Heroism actually kinda sucks it tries to be Mikirezakura 2 and thus loses out on an identity of its own which is very disappointing).

I love the harmony of the heroes cover of Orion, I can really picture them all in recording booths singing next to each other...who's the cheering guy, though? I've listened to this cover so many times and the line the cheering guy seemingly sings just sounds like Hirata's Kotetsu, I don't get it. I get wanting to balance the lyrics between groups and characters evenly but that was an awkward way to do it.

[homeofthemany]

jack versus kai

& versus his past!

part 1, part 2, part 3

first part of my breakdown of 1x19, "kickin' it in china", that was supposed to be in my last post. i'd recommend reading it for context because i drift out of canon territory in some heavier ways that might not make sense here if you haven't already looked at it. (:

up until this point in the series, jack has been a pretty cool, confident, & unshakable kid, but we also haven't learned anything about him. we know he was trained by his grandfather [who's a karate master], but that's about it. he's incredibly skilled in martial arts & clearly very talented, but he's a very normal & down to earth guy. then we meet kai, and things sort of start to fall apart.

TW for light discussion of ptsd & trauma. super light, super nonspecific.

where is jack, mentally? who is kai?

jack gets to go to china to fight in a tournament that he's, in his words, been dreaming of ever since he started training. woohoo! this is good! i'm sure he feels very accomplished & reassured of his skill level after being accepted to compete in the championship! maybe he can actually get over what happened with that random kid named kai he mentioned! jack is seeing a future for himself in martial arts again and is training in a new, healthy environment with people he likes. what's more important to him is that they seem to like him back!

the first thing we learn about kai is that he's the only opponent jack has lost to, and it was so devastating to him [likely physically and emotionally] that he gives up on karate until he moves to seaford. he seems uncomfortable talking about the subject and clearly doesn't want to elaborate, which i think can show "can show", since this is a kids show & they can't go too into detail that he's still somewhat insecure about his skill even though he rationally knows that he's the best in their dojo.

while we're making assumptions based off of writing choices, i think it's interesting that he confides in rudy & kim, intentionally keeping this from the other three; jack goes out of his way to talk to them outside. i like to think that he knows that they look up to him so he didn't want to talk about it in front of them, but logically this is just the writers keeping the a-plot separate from the b-plot lol. everybody, especially jerry, should've been involved, but i get that it's a kids show & they need to balance out the heavy stuff with the silly stuff.

the next thing we learn about this mysterious kai opponent comes from the man himself! this match jack is talking about apparently happened two years ago ["i thought i beat the karate out of you two years ago."], so not at all close to the start of the series. this is something that deeply affected jack, enough to have made him give up on something that really matters to him. if we assume that kickin' it follows the standard full season = full year formula, then kai would've beaten jack probably about a year before the start of the show, maybe a little over that, since 1x19 would be happening by the end of that season year.

i could make a whole separate post about jack's [c-]ptsd via his grandfather [long-term] & the fight with kai [one main standalone traumatic event], but the gist is that i cannot see a reality where that fight doesn't absolutely wreck him in more ways than one. jack was beaten so badly that he dropped karate, something he was probably training in since he could walk, for an entire year. that poor kid absolutely develops ptsd.

he also had no intentions of returning to it until he met jerry, milton, eddie, & rudy. even still, he almost chooses to walk out on them until he realizes that they're just as passionate about karate as he probably was as a younger kid. jack insists that he's not a karate guy and is a self-proclaimed skater boy, but it's clear that he still loves it and loves the culture [& action movies teehee] surrounding it.

next part (:

[webtrinsic1122]

FORCE SENSITIVE SABINE

I’ll be honest I’m a little dubious of Force Sensitive Sabine - if I remember correctly in the interview when Jon Favreau talks about it with Dave Filoni - Jon himself seemed pretty open to the idea while Dave did not.

So I’m wondering if the idea got pushed and it ended up happening even when the writers/producers/ creators didn’t agree.

Which actually makes it pretty confusing, because although the trailer (even the leaked con trailer where we see Sabine reaching towards her lightsaber on the ground like it would fly into her palm) kinda heavily implies she does in some way have some force sensitivity.

It’s just I don’t exactly understand how this could be the case and it not having been picked up on by Kanan, Ezra, or Ahsoka herself at the time when they first met.

I mean for all we know she’s not actually force sensitive, and she merely began dutiful lightsaber training with Ahsoka since those are hard to wield for non-force sensitives so heavy training would be required.

But that also begs the question of why Ahsoka left, and I kinda immediately assume it’s the same reason she said she can’t train Grogu.

Sabine is stubborn and she has abandonment issues, she’s out looking for Ezra and that’s her drive and that’s just not in line with the path.

The same path of the Jedi we see Sabine clearly trying to follow by listening to Ezra’s personal message to her (that message is not the same he left in rebels so we can only assume it’s separate).

Sabine even goes as far to cut her hair in the same way Kanan had when fully embracing himself as Jedi Caleb Dume - while I know apparently this is a mando custom when going into battle- that it might not have to do with Kanan at all - it does feel too similar to not be but again that’s just speculation on my part.

I do have one last thought on the force sensitivity, mainly on how she could have potentially got it if she randomly suddenly attained it because we know Ahsoka has some stuff going on with the world between worlds and the force gods - I know this sounds outlandish but in all honestly we can’t be sure what’s going on- I’m intrigued to find out.

All in all I can’t quite tell if I like the idea or not, personally I’m a little more in favor of her not, but there’s potential to come around.

I just feel she was special on her own, especially her wielding a saber without a lick of sensitivity and just her own prowess. Characters in Star wars shouldn’t have to be force sensitive to make them interesting, and Sabine clearly was interesting and capable on her own.

Those are my thoughts on the matter, feel free to kindly interact if you agree or disagree, and add some of your own thoughts.

[eerna]

Hi! I was the one complaining about Bird Harrow. It's been bugging me enough I rewatched the first couple of episodes. From a writing perspective, they introduce the Soulfang Serpent! It's only purpose is to do a body-swap! This scene serves other purposes, so it could just be a prop, but the snake comes back later. It serves to show Viren is kinda cutthroat about his goals (theoretically condemning another person do die in place in Harrow) and Harrow is a Paladin (Boy Scout) about stuff.

It's pretty good characterization! It shows Viren really likes his plans, especially because they're His Plans (which kind of makes it weird later when he's just super down for Avaros' plans. I know it's spelled wrong but I'm not looking it up. Moving on). He's an egomaniac, and Harrow carries guilt over the events that happened, and sees his impending doom as an atonement, though is still planning to put up a fight because it's his duty. Great, good. Next Episode!

Viren's still got the snake! Argument ensues! it's the one they had last episode, to remind everyone of their dynamic.

Bird alights on shoulder! This was a deliberate choice! for a reason! You don't just set this up because it's Dramatic!

Viren appears, sans snake. So at this point, we have two options. Either the animators made a... not necessarily a continuity blunder, but a real interesting choice, OR it's missing for a reason. (I'm being heavy-handed with this but I'm annoyed at the wiki) Yadda yadda, the "Invincible" Moonshadow elves apparently narrowly succeed in their assassination attempt. Suggesting that if Harrow had actually been allowed to fight they probably would've been fine, actually.

But he doesn't Fight. He doesn't emerge from his quarters at all! Really weird for a dude unwilling to sacrifice people merely to save his own life! Gosh, something must have happened in there! But What could it be????

anyway, next episode.

awesome armor aunt is introduced.

AND THEN THIS SHOT.

Viren doesn't care about this bird. There's no reason to cage the bird. The bird does not appear to have a cage, prior to this. It's an incredibly distinctive element they spent a lot of work on that, as far as I can tell, does not appear again. And most importantly. They never show Harrow's Body. Which is kind of an odd choice, if he wasn't a bird. Since if he wasn't a bird, it would be a dramatic shot! Nevermind the Dramatic Fight he could have had with the assassin! If he was a bird, well, you'd probably not want to show the king fighting like a bird in a man's body just for the dignity of it, and also showing his corpse would muddle the VERY OBVIOUS IMAGERY YOU'VE SET UP TO THIS POINT THAT THE MAN IS GONNA GET BIRD'D! Deep Breath. At SDCC 2019 creator Justin Richmond said that Harrow was killed by the elven assassins. This enters the realm of speculation, but unless he's just outright lying (which is... boring) it would indicate to me that this idea was cut at some point after most of these shots were finished, and it would be too expensive to remake them. So... most of the connective tissue was left, kicked under the rug as best as they could, afforded little other choice. Because the alternative is that they're incredibly, fundamentally unskilled at visual storytelling, which frankly, seems wild. The show is very, deeply flawed, but they do consistently demonstrate proficiency in the shots chosen for other threads in this opening plot. So many choices are done carefully and deliberately, that to fumble this one Major thing? Seems nutty. And it's really disappointing because Ezran coming home and chatting with Dad Bird and unravelling Viren's plot is Way more compelling than anything else they actually did do in the show. Come to think of it, maybe it's when they decided to have Aravos as the/a big bad. idk. Viren's dealing with Asarov to seem mildly-to-fairly inconsistent with his characterization in these early scenes. and not in a way that demonstrates any kind of meaningful arc.

Rant over. Thanks for listening. I doubt we'll ever get a good answer to this.

This was a highly entertaining read, np! I felt the same way when I rewatched the beginning of the show dsnjkavkas. Those first few episodes are directed much better than the rest of the show, and you're right, it's so weird if they are really meaningless. There is also a shot at the end of the season showing the bird escaping the cage, and then we NEVER SEE IT AGAIN. It shows up again only in Viren's imagination in s5. SO WHAT WAS ALL THIS FOR HUH. But honestly the show LOVES to introduce concepts and then drop them, so I wouldn't even be surprised if they just did it for the vibes and making it seem like a Cool Mature Fantasy Thing where the villain keeps the dead hero's animal companion in a cage instead of any proper writing reason.

[starry-blue-echoes]

Hi, it's me! The anon who submitted the vampiric Joseph AU. Wanted to share a few more ideas that I had.

Basically, the whole world thinks Joseph actually died in Cairo. It checks out considering everything else that had happened there, plus there were probably some eye-witness accounts to DIO attacking him. All company stuff went to Suzi Q, maybe Holly too? She's not a business person, but I see her helping out where she could. Joseph still runs it, just with Suzi Q being sort of a stand-in for him.

In regards to this with Josuke, he doesn't know for a while that the person who's been helping him out is actually his father. I guessed that with having to make a will so suddenly, somehow Josuke was discovered way earlier than the beginning of Part 4. I had it where he was sort of just this unknown person that helped Josuke out when he was in danger, especially when he was younger. (Plus he probably got some good inheritance money. Dad points? It's like a +0.5 point.)

Also, totally right with Holly. Especially with more interaction with Josuke here, I can't help but feel Joseph has a lot of guilt regarding his wife, even if one of those situations wasn't his fault. He'd be very lost. All he wanted was a life with her, and to die with her. And now he's stuck to make this decision on his own, with the only way to do so being the most painful options he could imagine.

Definitely think that fight with Straizo also messes with his head a lot more. He knows it's possible to still use hamon, and that thought weighs heavy on his mind.

Sorry for the long ask! Have a lot of thoughts, thank you so much for replying to my initial ask!

- bread

hi bread it's nice to have you :D

but also YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I love the idea of Joseph faking his death. It was going to happen eventually, might as well take advantage of the opportunity now since it'll be easiest. He does what he can to help Suzie and Holly with everything, and all things considered he's still running the company. Suzie becomes almost like a puppet ruler in some ways with people not realize Joseph's still working behind the scenes

also if I may raise an idea for Joseph vibing around before Part 4 canon: what if Joseph ends up learning about Josuke and sorta..... moves in to Morioh. It's only about a year or so before canon, but Joseph wants to be there for the son he apparently had. The talk with Suzie was...... rough to say the least, and he knows he deserved it but it still hurt. He was ashamed of his actions, but he also didn't want this kid to suffer because of it. The kid might've gotten sick like Holly did all those years ago and have a Stand without any guidance for all he knew!

Suzie is luckily understanding. Upset yes, but she can respect Joseph's decision at the very least. Plus...... she needs a bit of time right now. It's not a divorce, but just..... right now she needs to work through these emotions and this breaking of trust. It hurts Joseph a lot, but again he saw this coming, recognizes he kinda deserves it, and respects her wishes

(Joseph does have to deal with the black pit in his stomach for a while because we have so little time left we need to solve this now if we don't one of us could die and then we'll be left angry and grieving and confused and regretting how the last thing we did was fight but at the same time he knows that if he forces it, he'll just fuck things up further and he CANNOT do that)

so Joseph becomes Josuke's New And Kinda Weird But Overall Really Fun Neighbor. Josuke absolutely loses it when he realizes Joseph has a Stand, and he's able to give the kid a lot of guidance about the Stand World in general

and for a pinch of angst........ Joseph not telling Josuke he's his father. He tells himself he will. That he's just waiting for things to settle down, waiting for Josuke to be comfortable with him, waiting for the right moment...... but deep down he knows that's never going to come. He's ashamed he wasn't able to be there for Josuke's life, ashamed to call himself a father because of his actions, but most importantly he's terrified of how Josuke will react. The kid has every reason to hate him, and as selfish as it may be Joseph doesn't want to lose him

but then of course things start to go sideways when the Arrow makes an appearance in Morioh :)

[sunjaesol]

24 + 27 🫶🏼

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer + 27. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap

(university + bartender au)

The Caravan was an inconspicuous name for one of the hottest bars in the East L.A. area. Students from nearby colleges all went down to the bar on Friday and Saturday nights to dance and drink relatively cheap beer to catch up with friends. Luke lived vicariously through them, in a sense. He didn't go to college, but he knew many of them as a full-time bartender.

Seniors from California State called it "The 'Van", guys from Trade School only drank heavy beers and girls from International College preferred espresso martinis. Sophomores from City College got black-out drunk before midnight. If someone ever asked Luke to write a book about being a townie working in a college bar, he'd probably make millions with his observational anecdotes.

He clocked in the late afternoon. Briefly mopping the floor, he grabbed the bar stools from the tabletop and placed them down. He'd washed most of the glasses last night (or rather, somewhere around five in the morning), but some still needed polishing. The blackboard beside the bar showed last night's deal. 2 gin tonics for the price of 1!!

It didn't perform that well, Luke remembered. Surprise, surprise, twenty-year-olds weren't getting shitfaced on gin tonic. He warned his boss, but he hadn't listened. Obviously. Caleb always did his own thing.

Julie and him had joked about it the entire night, guessing people's drinks and tallying the ones that actually took the deal. Only ten did in the end. A smile ticked up his lips at the memory. Julie.

Julie was a jazz music master student at UCLA. As one of the only women in the coveted program, she was already pretty well-known in the jazz scene, especially since she infused her own music with pop and punk influences. She wasn't afraid to bend the norm, which made him instantly like her. For some reason, she worked part-time with him at The Caravan. It was a twenty-five minute drive from her university, but she apparently lived in the area. It made sense. Everything about her screamed Los Feliz.

As if on cue, the front door opened and revealed a smiling Julie. "Hey, Luke."

She wore black cargo pants and a black crop top, her hair up in a messy bun with few curls framing her face. She was absolutely beautiful and he felt dizzy looking at her at times.

"What's up, Boss?" he greeted, grinning when he saw her rolling her eyes at the nickname. He said it once a couple months ago and it stuck forever.

"Has Caleb said anything about the gin tonic fiasco?"

He shook his head. "Nah. But he'll blame us, though."

Julie huffed. "If he wants to sell gin tonic, he should run a speakeasy. Only forty-year-olds drink that stuff."

Circling around the bar, she stood by his side and started helping with the glasses. With her chunky shoes, she only came to his chin. His hands tingled to touch her back, pull her closer, but except for some casual flirting... nothing ever happened.

Luke figured it was just that. Drowsy flirting at three in the morning when she got bored, and he happily went along. Alex called him a loser for engaging, but Reggie encouraged him to continue. As always, his band mates played devil and angel on his shoulder.

"How's the band going?" she asked, plucking the thought from his mind.

"We're good, we're playing at E&B next week."

"That's amazing, Luke!"

His hip bumped hers, teasing. "The offer's still up, you know."

The moment Luke fell for her was the moment he heard her sing. It was the end of a successful night, they were cleaning up, when he heard her sing one of the songs the DJ had played. If someone mixed the most technically skilled singer of all time with all the love and soul and vulnerability that a person could possess, it would create Julie Molina. She had the voice of a fucking angel.

And it was perfect for the sound of their band. She was the missing piece and they all knew it. Or, well, Luke knew it and he tried convincing her of that fact. But he understood the risk: she was a rising solo singer and Sunset Curve was a scruffy L.A. band with no management. It would be a 'downgrade'.

"You know I'm too busy for that, Luke," she trailed. "Like, I barely even sleep."

"Get a job closer to UCLA that doesn't make you work until the sun comes up," he reasoned. He has told her before. As much as he loved working with her, Julie's well-being stood at the forefront of his mind.

She laughed. "And quit here? No way. Who else will entertain your stupid jokes?"

He gasped, faux-offended, placing a hand on his chest. "Jules! Sticks and stones!"

Swatting his shoulder, she giggled and exclaimed: "Just hold auditions! Like, do you know how many singers there are in L.A.? I'm not the only one."

"You're the only Julie Molina though." He loomed closer. His voice stayed determined, but a soft edge creeped in. "Only one wrecking ball of a voice like yours."

Julie turned away from him with a slight smile, but he saw a blush rising on brown skin. Maybe he should just ask her out. It sounded easier than convincing her to join the band.

Before he could take the leap, Caleb's car appeared on the curb in front of the bar. The two shared a look. Great. Time for the critique.

***

By eleven pm, The Caravan was in full swing. Packed with students like tuna in a can, people almost couldn't dance from being pressed together. Pop music boomed from the speakers as the resident DJ expertly added bass and transitions. This was the best part of the night, Luke found. No annoying drunks yet, great music, and an easy work flow between Julie and him. They didn't need to talk to know what the other was thinking.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Julie shaking the cocktail mixer for an International College girl. An espresso martini for sure. Luke tapped a beer for a guy holding up his pinky finger.

The only irritating part was the attention Julie received from guys. They eyed her shamelessly and leaned in closer than they needed to. He was happy they never had to leave the bar, or else those dudes would do more than just look.

Now, after she gave the girl her martini, the next guy seemed to have said something off-putting. Julie grimaced.

"I'm twenty-three," she deadpanned.

"So?" the guy yelled. The dude couldn't be older than eighteen. Luke didn't pause tapping beers, but pricked up his ear for anything bad.

"Not interested," she said. "Do you want a drink or not?"

"C'mon-!"

"No means no." Her voice stayed firm, but he didn't leave the bar. People began to crowd behind him, impatiently waiting to be served. Luke handed a person their beer and wiped off his hands on the black apron around his hips.

And then the dude scoffed. "Bitch."

Luke moved to her side before he realised it, placing his hands on the tabletop and glaring the guy down. "She said no. Do you want the bouncer to come and kick your underage ass out? Go away."

The startled guy backed off, raising his hands in surrender and mumbling something to himself. Disappearing into the crowd, Luke let out an aggravated huff. Fucking loser.

"You didn't need to do that," Julie uttered. She didn't meet his eyes.

"He wasn't listening."

She frowned. "I can fight my own battles. This is not the first time."

"But it's not fair," he groaned and nodded at a partygoer asking for a shot of tequila. "And I know guys listen to other guys. It's shitty, but..."

"The truth," she finished, solemn.

Luke focused on grabbing the bottle from beneath the bar to avoid seeing her disappointment. "Yeah."

He'd seen it plenty of times. Guys bothering girls until the boyfriend stepped in, or even just a male friend. Something about being reprimanded by the same 'side' stopped them from acting like creepy assholes. Luke wished he could do more, but some people were incorrigible.

Luckily, nothing else happened for the next few hours. They poured dozens of shots, prepared mojitos and margaritas, tapped beers and had to replace the barrel around two in the morning. Julie's smile worked its way back on her face, too. They shimmied together when the DJ played ABBA and he twirled her around just to hear her giggle.

Around four, they began to shoo the remaining partygoers outside. The students stumbled on the pavements, leaning against each other and shouting about getting pizza from a drive-thru. The typical routine. He was asking one of the guys if he needed to call them an Uber, when he heard an aggravated Just stop! from inside.

Marching inside, he saw the young guy from before crowding Julie, drunk and unbalanced, yet holding her wrist. Luke saw red. Above all else, Julie was his friend, and no one messed with his friends.

With a firm push, the boy staggered back in surprise and yelped. Luke coaxed Julie behind him. Angry, he exclaimed: "Get the fuck out, man. If you don't know what 'no' means, then go back to fucking kindergarten."

"You her boyfriend or something?" he slurred.

Luke hesitated. Julie grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Yes," she said, "now go."

Finally, the boy stumbled upright and crawled out of the bar. Julie let out a tired sigh, but kept her hand in his. Luke realised belatedly she used his advice. Guys listened to guys. Guys especially listened to boyfriends. Collecting his thoughts, he forced himself not to daydream about Julie as his girlfriend.

"Sorry," she mumbled, "it seemed like the right thing to do."

The right thing. His heart beat faster. "Yeah? It's okay. I don't mind."

Julie eyed him curiously. "You... don't mind?"

"I'm honoured to be boyfriend material, Jules," he teased, but it came out soft and breathy. It sounded too earnest. It was too quiet for this.

A beat passed where they stared at each other. Her gaze flit down to their joined hands. "I can feel your heart going fast."

Shit. His hold tightened regardless, unable to let the moment go. "Yeah... that, uh—" And then he took the leap of faith; now or never. "That usually happens around you, I guess."

Her lips parted in surprise. All cards on the table. Did he go too far? An apology started to form on his lips, when Julie let go of his hand and instead curled her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her level. It happened so quickly, so smooth, that a minor pause gave him just enough time to grip her waist and close the final distance.

Julie gasped when they kissed. Luke smiled against her mouth, wondering if she hadn't thought either; just acted on what felt right and only now registering what it meant. His hands slipped from her waist to her neck.

Humming in pleasure, she mumbled in between kisses. "I—" kiss "—don't—" kiss "—just kiss randomly." Her fingers curled around his chin before he kissed her again. Her brown eyes glimmered in the lowlight. "I'm kissing you, because it's you, Luke."

Adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream at her words. She was going to be the death of him. Letting out an exalted laugh, he said: "Trust me, Jules, it's only you and no one else."

A grin bloomed on her face, achingly pretty, and her grip slipped into his hair. "That's good to know," she whispered.

Luke and Julie continued making out, tugging on clothes and hair to coax the other closer. Somehow, he managed to release her bun. A waterfall of soft curls danced around her. Carding through the tresses, he found himself moving her towards the barstools. His back bumped against it and an idea formed.

Hoisting her on his lap on the barstool, Julie called him a cliché with a laugh. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but he wanted her close; he needed her close. His nose traced hers, slow.

"Is this why you want me in the band?" she asked.

Luke pecked her lips. "You joining the band would be a bonus... I just want you."

Julie hummed. She seemed thoughtful, more collected than he felt right now. "I'll think about it."

His circling fingers alongside her waist paused. He tried focusing, shaking his head. "About the band or about me?"

A smirk pulled on her lips. "Both."

///

send kiss prompts for juke!

[tsarisfanfiction]

#3 (Sing A Song of Seven)

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Gen Genre: Angst Characters: Michael Yew, Lee Fletcher, Apollo A series of Cabin Seven oneshots.  This time: Funeral lament. This, apparently, is what happens when I listen to the same song on repeat, especially when one of the singers manages to completely evoke Michael when I hear him in it... (Omar Cardona, specifically his acapella singing alongside VoicePlay in The Dragonborn Comes, for the curious). It was only ever a matter of time before I started bringing some angst into this series... The song lyrics used in this are the only Ancient Greek lament I could find words to - Song of Seikilos. Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<#2

It was a song every child of Apollo knew, and the song they always hoped they would never have to perform.  Cabin seven had duties, responsibilities that most of the time didn’t feel too heavy, but sometimes felt like the sky crushing them beneath its inescapable weight.  Their job was to be the camp’s light, to perform and amaze, to heal, and often they loved it.

But sometimes it hurt.

Traditionally, it was the responsibility of the head counsellor.  Lee had sung the lament for camp more than once – quests had dried up years ago, but there were still funerals, still new campers that didn’t make it despite the healers’ best efforts, and there was always at least one every year.

Lee was a musician, a flautist first and singer second but with a voice befitting a child of Apollo regardless.

Had been a musician.

Who was supposed to sing the lament when it was their head counsellor wrapped in a golden shroud?

Michael’s throat was tight, a lump lodged in it that had materialised at the sight of crimson-streaked dark blond and hadn’t abated since.  Officially, they didn’t have a head counsellor right then, too soon to even think about naming a successor, but Lee had been prodding him since the start of the summer, reminding him that it was only another year until he was off to college, and Michael knew – the whole cabin knew, if not the camp – that he was next.

In the absence of an official head counsellor, the lament could fall to any of them – the one with the best voice, the one who could hold themselves together in the face of insurmountable grief long enough to perform.  They all knew Joy fit the requirements the best, the best singer in the cabin, and she’d even stepped up during the preparations, gesturing to herself with a face of fragile determination – but her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and Michael knew he couldn’t say yes, couldn’t do that to her.

Traditionally, it was the responsibility of the head counsellor.  Michael wasn’t the official leader just yet, and he had never taken the limelight at campfire singalongs, not the greatest fan of singing where he could be heard despite the fact that he, too, was a son of Apollo and had a voice to match, but his siblings were crushed enough by the sudden, brutal loss of Lee (and the other deaths, yes, but it was Lee in his mind, in their minds, the brother that had always been there and whose sudden absence seared like a the first echoes of a phantom limb).  He couldn’t shy away from this, push the shattering, grief-ridden, responsibility on the cabin that was now his to lead, to protect.

The son of Hades led the proceedings, dressed all in black and too young, but they were all too young.  Grieving head counsellors gave short words about their fallen siblings; Michael didn’t even know what he managed to say about Lee, before Pollux fell apart trying to talk about his slain twin and the shrouds were set to torch.

No eyes were on Michael as he stepped forwards, away from the security and comfort of his siblings and into the responsibility that was the head counsellor of cabin seven’s – his, now, and it felt wrong stepping onto the same patch of bare earth he’d watched Lee take so many times, and Emily before him, but also it was for Lee, and Michael would never forgive himself if he faltered now.

No-one ever looked at the singer at a funeral.  All eyes were drawn to the flames, rising higher and higher as the pyres burned, watching the final moments of bodies whose souls were long gone to Hades’ realm.

Michael knew the song.  He knew the words he’d hoped to never sing, and drew in a deep breath, feeling it waver, before the words began to spill out.

Hóson zêis, phaínou Mēdèn hólōs sỳ lypoû

His voice threatened to crack, the tell-tale feeling of a break starting in the back of his throat right where the lump held fast as tears welled, determined to overflow.  This was for Lee, for the first sibling he’d grown close to, for the first person that wormed his way past the terrified prickly shell of an abused child and slowly coaxed Michael into learning to trust in family again.

The break didn’t come, his voice strengthening when it should have – would have – faltered.  Warmth spread across him, invisible but impossible to miss, and the feel of a weightless hand covered his shoulder.

The tears spilled down his cheek, even as his voice held steady, imbued with a strength that wasn’t his.

Pros oligon esti to zēn To telos ho chronos apaitei

It was a short lament, too short to only sing the once when there were several dead and grief prevailed across the sobbing campers.  He let the last strains of the final word fade away into silence before starting it again, letting the warmth carry his voice, keeping it strong and stable even as Michael himself felt like he was falling apart.

Hóson zêis, phaínou Mēdèn hólōs sỳ lypoû

Slowly, as surreptitiously as he could manage – for how little it mattered when no-one had eyes for him, when the burning pyres drew every eye, including his own, with no remorse – his own hand crept up to the epicentre of warmth on his shoulder.  It only met air, falling down on his own camp t-shirt with nothing in the way, but he’d expected that, even as it shifted until it felt like his hand, too, was being enveloped by the weightless, invisible, not-really-there one.

Pros oligon esti to zēn To telos ho chronos apaitei

Once the funeral was over, once the pyres burned to ash and nothing was left of the bodies and shrouds borne upon them, when Michael’s throat rasped from the words and tears for all that his voice kept going, his siblings would join him and all eyes would be upon them as the lament faded and songs of joy and celebration, uplifting sounds to counter the grief took their place.

Michael couldn’t spare his siblings that – it was a cabin-wide responsibility, for all that he didn’t know how they were supposed to sing of joy when their hearts had been torn in two – but at least, this time, he’d spared any of them this moment, standing alone and small against the onslaught of grief, both the camp’s and his own, fierce choking emotion.

Well, not quite alone.  Michael’s hand flexed where it was encased by the comforting, supporting warmth of the sun, and stood a little straighter, head a little further back, as he repeated the lament once again.

#4>>

[platonickit]

The Stuff of Nightmares

Apparently, that's me (5' 2", pouts when people talk about killing ladybugs and rats, gets physically sick when too much bad shit is happening around them)

To set the scene: The university I'm studying at is, due to the subject nature of all the courses, pretty male-heavy. This to explain that, when out with friends, it's not a rarity for me to be the only or one of very few women in the group. It's also led to me making more male friends at uni than female ones, which in turn leads to me hanging out more with men than women (when out with friends).

There was a boardgame night event set up by one of my best friends (A) yesterday, in a community setting where anyone could join, and I had promised to come because we hadn't seen each other in a while.

The boardgame part was fine, we played a round of Cards Against Humanity, which I always forget I don't find as funny as a lot of other people, and two rounds of UNO before most of the people wanted to go home. We ended the boardgames with a round of Catan which went...annoyingly, before the last two people said their goodbyes.

A and I are in the middle of watching A Series of Unfortunate Events on Netflix and, since it was barely 11pm, we thought we could perhaps finish the second season. We got like two minutes into it before a mutual friend G and another person J (who I didn't know, but the other two did) came to the place (as mentioned, this is a community space for students).

We got to talking, G left for some other friend's place, J was pretty cool, it was interesting.

Anyway, at one point he tells me "Oh you don't seem like someone who has nightmares, but who appears in people's nightmares."

I was, perhaps rightfully so, a little taken aback - like I said, I'm 5' 2" and have been crying at people being told they're not good enough for the past two weeks, and I truthfully don't like people talking about killing things (not even in-game, which the ladybug thing came from) - I didn't know where he had gotten the impression, but he added onto it and told me I could take that like I wanted. I liked him, so I didn't really think about it more.

G later came back and J left, but I was reminded of his statement when G said something similar, which took me out of the conversation so much that I asked A and G what the hell their impression of me was to which they both just said stuff along the lines of "Oh, yeah, no, you're cute/sweet/sth like that" which - I don't know.

I was pretty confused by it until this morning, especially since this hasn't been the first time someone has told me something like that - back in January 2022, I got a message by someone I kind of knew after I had gone off on a mutual friend in a big group chat (nobody else had said anything before that but everyone was annoyed) telling me "I don't know you, but I'm kind of scared of you."

Anyway, the reason I was only confused until this morning was that I told Nasjaki about it and he just, kind of nonchalantly, said: "Oh, yeah, men like that can't take strong women" which made awfully much sense.

TL;DR: I'm the stuff of (certain mens') nightmares, and I think I'll wear that as a badge of honour.

[ikehoe]

Victory, part 2 [Chevalier Michel x Reader] [SMUT] [Ikemen Prince]

Victory – Part 2 (Chevalier Michel x Reader)

Rated: Explicit - SMUT (Minors DNI!)

Tags: Smut, Pure filth, PIV, Rough, Degradation

Description: This is p2 to the Victory fic with Clavis x Reader. Chevalier gets jealous seeing you and Clavis’ romp in the Courtyard, and he takes it upon himself to make sure you never repeat another man’s name. Chev is… sort of sweet… at the end. In his own Chev way, of course.

A/N: For my fellow Chev simp, @kleeps. Hope you like it! Also, I’m very sorry, but apparently, our dearest readers out here getting a 2for1 Rhodolite Prince special in one day. Oop.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games. I’m merely an avid fan of being MC.

WC: 1.5k+

Ever since you joined the Rhodolite Castle in your official duties as Belle, every day that passed by had been absolutely exhausting. Today was no different – especially with the unintended tryst you’d had with the third prince, Clavis Lelouch. You hadn’t intended on going so far with the notorious trickster, especially with his myriad of less-than-ideal nicknames given to him by Sariel and the other princes.

With a groan, you rubbed your temples and willed yourself to forget about the incident. Clavis had said that you two needed to talk about some stuff. Still, that conversation was something that you were definitely not looking forward to. After all, you were a mere Commoner, only assigned to be Belle for a month. What could happen in a month?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Um, yes? Who is it?” You called out, eyebrow quirking up at the unexpected visitor. It was already past sundown, and all the official duties assigned to you by Sariel were complete. Not only that, none of the Princes had requested your help with anything, nor were you expecting any visitors.

The heavy wooden door to your bedroom swung open with the strength that only a terrifying beast possessed. A second later, you recognized the telltale cold gaze and platinum blonde locks of the second prince of Rhodolite, Chevalier Michel.

“Oh! Prince Chevalier, can I help you with something? W—what are you doing here?” You stammered out. No matter how close you got to Chevalier, there was always something about his presence that had you quivering like a leaf in the wind. There was an unexplainable aura and presence that the man possessed. You’d seen the effects first hand, once in battle when there were Obsidianite soldiers spotted near a Rhodolite fort, and many other times when the man would walk into a room, and all conversation would halt immediately.

“You truly are a simpleton, aren’t you?” Chevalier asked; none of the usual amusement associated with that nickname was present in his eyes. “What did you think you’d accomplish with that depravity this afternoon with the Jester?”

With his cruel words, a sudden lightbulb clicked in your mind. However, you had no idea how Chevalier could have gotten wind of your and Clavis’ actions this afternoon. There was no way someone spotted the two of you, right? After all, you had been concealed in the darkest shadows of the Courtyard.

“I—I—I don’t know what you’re talking abo—,” you started, only to be cut off by Chevalier roughly pushing your body back onto your bed. The Prince’s eyes were colder than ever, and you were terrified of what was to happen next. Although the Second Prince had never harmed you in any way, there was no telling what he was capable of when he was angry – and he sure seemed to hate you at that moment. However, a tiny part of you felt that familiar flame of arousal light up in your body as Chevalier’s eyes roamed up and down your figure.

“So our pure and golden-hearted Belle is just a little slut that lets any Rhodolite prince inside of her, hm?” Chev asked, capturing a piece of your hair around his finger and twirling it menacingly. “Perhaps I should remind you that this Castle is full of beasts, and beasts do not share.”

Suddenly, you felt the Prince’s lips press down against your own, capturing you in a heated and rough kiss. His teeth tugged roughly at your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan out of you as you tried to keep up with the Prince’s relentless pace. Not only were your lips occupied, but Chevalier had also captured both your wrists in one of his large hands and had pressed them above your head, stopping any ability you had to move.

“Prince Chevalier, wait,” you urged breathlessly. Despite the rough actions of the Prince, you wanted nothing more than to rub your hands all along the Beast and feel him in all his glory. After all, if this was the first and last time this would happen, you wanted to experience everything.

“Wait? Is that what you told that Jester when you showed him your everything?” Chevalier asked tauntingly. The gaze in his eyes could only be described as beastly, as someone who was about to devour their prey. With a rip, Chevalier had grabbed the front of your nightgown and ripped it clean from the top to the bottom, exposing your bare and heaving breasts to him. It was as though Chevalier was possessed as he left deep purple marks throughout your breasts, stopping only to grip your chin and make sure you were looking at him. “From now on, you’re mine, Belle. You respond only to me, you look only at me, and you do not say another man’s name – especially not the name of that Jester.”

In your haze of pleasure, you faintly recognized Chevalier’s orders and meekly nodded. The sensation of Chevalier ravaging your breasts was sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Before you even had a chance to catch your breath, you felt the delectable sensation of Chevalier’s long and thick fingers stretching you out.

“Mm… Seems you really are more than prepared for me,” Chevalier murmured, peppering kisses all along your collarbones as you writhed underneath him. Any semblance of embarrassment and hesitation you had was long gone with how good the Prince was making you feel. He began to coax his index and middle finger against your tunnel, hitting just the right spot to make you gasp out his name.

“Ch—Chevalier, right there!” You screamed, arching your back off of the bed in ecstasy. In response, the Prince only sped up his fingers, scissoring your core until you came around his digits in a haze of pleasure.

“Oh, my g—god,” you moaned out as you felt the pleasure spread throughout your body. Before you could even come down from your high, you heard the faint sound of rustling clothes followed by the stinging sensation of Chevalier pushing into you with his hardened length. You heard a low groan from the platinum-haired Prince as he slowly rocked into you.

“You’re mine, you understand that, Belle? Your whole body and this little pussy are all mine to use,” Chevalier murmured, releasing your wrists from his grasp and gently wrapping his hand around your neck. “I’m the only one that can make you feel this way.”

“Y—Yes, Prince Chevalier,” you moaned out. He once again captured your lips in a heated kiss, tongue eagerly exploring your mouth as he began to speed up his thrusts. To say that the Prince had a generously-sized cock would be an understatement. Much like his large and beastly build, the Prince had a cock that far surpassed any average man. It seemed as though Chevalier understood that fact as well, as he gave you a couple of minutes to catch your breath.

Once you became accustomed to his girth, you looked up into Chevalier’s icy blue eyes and whispered the words he’d been waiting for the whole time. “Please, take me Prince Chevalier.”

It was as If those five words flipped a switch in him that returned him to his Beastly nature as he began to thrust into you deeper and deeper. Each stroke that Chevalier did managed to hit that sweet spot inside you. The words tumbling from your mouth were absolutely incomprehensible.

“Ch—Chev, ah, p—please!” You rasped out, barely managing to form a complete sentence.

“Is our little Belle all fucked dumb for me?” Chevalier smirked, tightening his grip on your throat. “Are you going to let me fuck you deep with my seed?”

“A—ah! Yes!” You cried out as one final stroke brought you over to the brink of absolute euphoria. Pleasure spread from your core to the tips of your fingers. Your entire body was quivering with overstimulation as Chevalier continued fucking you through your orgasm.

A moment later, as you slowly regained your senses, you felt the Prince’s cock twitch deep within your core. He let out a beautiful groan as he painted your walls with his cum in thick spurts. Then, with a deep breath, he released your throat and clumsily rubbed your cheek with his finger in a futile attempt to console you and provide you with aftercare.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Chevalier asked you, volume barely audible as he continued stroking your cheek awkwardly.

The complete 180 that the beastly Prince of Rhodolite had just undergone caused your mouth to gape open in surprise. “I—no, that was amazing, Prince Chevalier,” you blushed, cheeks flushing with a bright shade of vermillion. “I’m so embarrassed that you saw … that… this afternoon.”

“As I said, Belle. You’re mine now, and I do not share with anyone, especially not my brothers. You would be better off remembering that next time you allow one of those heathens to sully your body,” Chevalier responded, training his beautiful icy blue eyes on yours. “By the way, I read that book you recommended to me. I wasn’t aware that you were into such lustful scenes, Belle.”

“Wh—what book?” You stammered out. “I merely recommended a classic love story between a Knight and a Princess!”

“Ah… It seems like the Jester has played us both for fools again,” Chevalier mused, a slight quirk to his lips the only thing indicating his amusement with the situation.

[cinnamonest]

//extra toxic fuckboy behaviors especially at the end, impreg, slutshaming, blackmail, mildly sexist But anyway instead of Childe drugging post have Childe drunk sex post Childe with a cute fem subordinate darling. The thing is, he doesn't actually drug you, per se. It's a little more deceptive than that -- you're certainly under the influence, though. Like Kaeya, he's only doing this if he's reached a point where he's desperate. You've turned him down over and over, he's tried everything he can to get you to fuck him and you won't. He's frustrated and blueballed and that's a very unfortunate combination for poor darling, because he's considerably less nice when he's frustrated. But that's what you deserve. If you were good and just let him fuck you all those times he tried before -- and believe him, he tried a LOT -- then this wouldn't have to happen. He tried so many times, and he tried everything he knows! All the lines he rehearsed in his head didn't work, and he came on pretty heavy, leaving him just feeling sad and bitter. Obviously you want him, how could you not, so he’s just doing something wrong. He's your superior, he could just, dunno, demand it? But that would feel kinda emasculating, to be honest, at least, more so than the plan he does settle on. And that's why you won't be knocked out, not all the way. He's very particular about it. He doesn't have anything against this morally, no, it's normalized to him, and it's not like he'd get in trouble. Granted, he has plenty of drugs available. It's pretty well known that the Fatui guys do this kind of thing pretty frequently, the men go in groups to taverns in Mondstadt and pick through girls and even some young guys to find the most naive and gullible to spike and lure away when they start swaying. Luckily for those, at least, it's a one time ordeal they can forget and move on from, but you aren't going to be so lucky. Nor does he need to drug you to get what he wants. He thinks you're a little stupid, really. You accept his invitation so quickly. Camped out in the wilderness with nothing but liquor and your own two selves. For a moment, it occurs to him he doesn't even need to put you under the influence, he could just force you right here and you couldn't do a thing. Still, he did have to pay a bit to get this nice stuff, so he might as well, and he can't afford you screaming and drawing attention from a potential passerby. So he watches you take the cup designated as yours, and before you can even take a moment to question or doubt, he challenges you. You can't outdrink him, he says. Bet you're a lightweight. You'd probably get sick a few shots in. Where he's from, people actually know how to hold their alcohol, unlike you weak-livered people. And of course, you scoff, you fold your arms, you insist he's wrong, just as he knew you would, just as he hoped you would. And he just smiles at you. Ok, prove it then. You glare back and say you're on. You don't question that he's pouring out of two separate flasks. You can't see the color difference between the liquids in the darkness of the night sky, nor the grimace on his face as he drinks -- maybe he should have brought water from the town rather than filling his flask out of the river, yuck. Your determined face is so cute. Your eyelids start to get heavy. You scrunch your face as your blink and try to stay alert. You drop one of your shots on the ground and he smiles and says maybe you should just accept defeat. You shake your head and keep going. Admittedly, he's actually a bit impressed, you got more than he thought you would by the time you finally drop the glass for good and slump on the ground. Whew. About time, he was starting to get sick of drinking so much water. And you do twitch a bit, open your eyes and stumble around and mutter something about not accepting defeat, you'll prove him wrong, but he just laughs and picks you up and drags you into the tent with ease. He likes it when you're not blacked out all the way. That's why drugging you would have been no fun. This way, your eyes open just a bit, heavily lidded and blinking, you mumble out incoherent words. You protest just a bit when you feel your clothes slide off -- what are you... but you don't finish the question. He's a good guy, really, he cares about you, which is why he does a quick check and feels your skin to make sure you're not actually under any alcohol poisoning or something, but your skin is warm and dry, not clammy. Good, now you can get to the good part. He thinks about how grateful you should be. His friends and subordinates even have teased him for the longest time because he won't just go out with them to try to get lucky somewhere or participate in their drugging of randoms, no, he's whipped, they snicker, obsessed with this one little bitch that just won't put out. He can't say they're wrong, and that irritates him even more that you humiliated him like that. Which is why this isn't just a one time thing, no, this is part of the plan. He talks to you while he fucks you, maybe you'll remember some of it, maybe not. Actually, hopefully not everything, since he more or less admits how desperate he is in his lust-hazed rambling, how much it's irritated him that you wouldn't just be his and let him fuck you. Why can't you just admit you like him? Why do you have to play hard to get? He rambles about how soft your body is. How good pussy really does feel, holy shit, those guys were right, it's so warm and grips his dick so nicely. Not that he'd limit himself to that, while he's got you like this he might as well put his dick in your limp mouth, but admittedly he imagines that would feel a lot better if you were awake and actually sucking on it. Your mouth moves just a bit, and in your nearly-blacked-out state your tongue runs over the intrusion and you let out the softest confused little sound, but that's all you do. But he makes sure to breed you, cumming several times, all deep deep deep inside of your tight cunt. Again, part of the plan. Just not the most important part of the plan. The most important part is the kamera. It captures moment after moment. The first round he just leaves it aside, takes time to really just live in this sweet, precious moment... and then he breaks the kamera out. Gets all the nice shots with his dick in your holes. Gets a few full body ones, makes sure it's unmistakable as you. Captures your cute drunk face, with your eyes open just a bit, it looks like you're just awake but eyes lidded from arousal. You look awake. Willing. And so, when he finally goes to sleep, he does so very very happily and confident. And when you wake up, he was so rough that there's absolutely no doubt as to what transpired. Your throat and pussy are sore as hell, you're both naked in bed and his cum is still leaking out of you. The regret and shame comes crashing down, holy shit, you slept with your boss that's been trying to fuck you for ages now and your life is over. You'll have to transfer or something. But then... you know you drank on your own choice, but something feels... wrong. He's heavily snoring away, so in morning light you spot the flasks from last night. Your head is pounding, but you make your way over to the first one, and take a swig and spit it back out, yeah, that's the stuff you had... and then take a swig from the other... and when you taste water it all clicks. Bastard. You shake him awake in fury and immediately start telling him off, cursing and snarling. He was half expecting that, to be honest. Sure, obviously you want him, but he gets that you'd be a little mad over the way you got what you wanted, and you’re just embarrassed because you were so dumb, you're just hysterical like that. And you’re just naturally ashamed after fucking, like most girls apparently are, he gets that. But he just smiles and laughs in your face. It cuts deep, it's like a knife in your stomach, because you know why. He's untouchable, even if people believed you, nothing will happen to him, and he knows that. He has nothing to fear. You grit your teeth and your eyes tear up and your lip quivers and you finally drop your head and sniffle, asking him to just take me back. You'll quit, transfer to another department, and then, you tell him bitterly, I'll never have to see you again, at least. And that's what makes his smile drop. You're not gonna do that, he says. Your eyes widen with some new horror when you see the pictures. He talks to you like a child, in that dumb oversimplified way of speech, it's degrading and dehumanizing. Explains that this is how it's gonna go. You're gonna keep being his little subordinate. You're gonna be his girlfriend, publicly. And you're gonna fuck him whenever he wants. If you decide you don't like that, the entire branch, hell, the entire organization sees these photos. You have a very easy, simple choice. It's up to you to decide what happens. Oh, and you're probably pregnant, by the way, he timed this whole thing based on that calendar you keep that he snuck a look at. Would hate for you to have to deal with that on your own, right? People do envy you, down the line. How easy your job must be, since you're nothing more than an assistant now. Everyone knows you're just fucking the boss, that's probably how you got that position in the first place, right? And it's not like he doesn't make it obvious. Whenever he gets with the group of guys at his own level, when they all start saying horrendous things about the women they work with and sharing over-embellished tales as men do, he has plenty of very detailed stories to brag about the cute girlfriend he has. How she drops to her knees at any given moment, and how good and tight she is, and how eager she is, how much she loves fucking him, worships him, he's not like the pathetic bastards that have to go drug some poor unsuspecting thing once a month or so, no, he can get all the sweet, devoted pussy he wants at any time. He has the pictures to prove it! They roll their eyes because they've seen the pictures a hundred times now, everyone has, he shows every guy he works with, and they all know not to tell her that they've seen them. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter, she'd be dumb to leave him this late into pregnancy anyway.

[soulmate-game]

Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

[ramzawrites]

can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy

Broken

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade

Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst

Series: a request!

Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.

Words count: 3647

Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!

I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]

Y/N loved their family.

They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.

So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.

When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.

Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.

Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.

When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.

The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.

Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”

Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.

As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.

When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.

Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.

After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.

After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.

But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.

Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.

At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.

Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.

In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.

As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.

Then Pogtopia got established.

Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.

Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.

He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.

“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”

With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.

All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.

L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.

Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.

Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.

Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.

On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.

The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.

Then the speeches started.

Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.

Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.

Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.

“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”

Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.

“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.

Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.

Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.

When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.

Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.

“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.

Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.

Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.

Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.

As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.

He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.

Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.

Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.

Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.

The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”

Techno only nodded.

After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.

Though all that work was for nothing.

The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.

Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.

The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.

Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.

Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.

Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.

When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.

When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.

At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.

Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.

They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!

And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.

They lost their trust in Technoblade.

They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.

They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.

Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?

Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.

“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”

Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”

“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.

Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.

With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.

“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”

L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.

Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.

Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.

It reminded them too much of Wilbur.

So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.

Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.

The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.

This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.

The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.

So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.

They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.

Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.

Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.

< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>

When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.

Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.

While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.

“What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”

Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-“

Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.

Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.

Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.

Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.

Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.

Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.

His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.

Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.

“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?

“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.

“What have we done.”

Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.

“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.

He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.

“Y/N is dead?”

His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.

“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.