#Mentioned Death

[strange-slenderverse-aus]

Fucked up angsty au:

So you know how in EMH the rake likes to taunt Alex?

And you know how in whisperedfaith the rake is like- a God that wants to destroy the world with a cult full of brainwashed followers and you can literally get addicted to listening to the point of really major withdrawals?

What if for whatever reason the speaker saw potential in Alex the same way it did in Sean, what if it tried to manipulate and / or recruit him.

Idk if it would work, I just think it would be super scary to be dealing with that alone as a teenager, also having the family be involved would just add another layer to the horrors the EMH crew have to deal with.

Extra angst option: @whosthatredguy 's headcanon about the speaker using his victim's voices. Imagine hearing your dead dog barking in the middle of the woods. Also I know their parents probably died in a car accident but it would be especially fucked up for the speaker to use their voices too since Alex was already talking to recordings of their voice.

[apricitywinterswrites]

With no Light of my Own (I Shine Only With The Light You Gave Me) - Whumpuary D19

With no Light of my Own (I Shine Only With The Light You Gave Me)

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 1,303

Summary

"You're overworking yourself too." "That's a lie." Ponyboy felt annoyed enough to push off Steve, no matter how heavy everything felt. He turned and glared at Steve, feeling himself falter internally when he saw just how tired the other looked. "Is it?" Steve asked. Ponyboy glared at him, but he knew that the facade wouldn't be held up for very long. He was tired. He wouldn't go as far as to say he was overworking himself, but… Ponyboy looked away, a glare on his face pointed towards the ground.

Or, or, Ponyboy is struggling to accept that two of his friends are gone. Darry and Sodapop have tried everything to try pull him from the depression that he'd fallen into. Surprisingly, it's Steve that manages to pull him out. Title from | The Moon Will Sing | by | The Crane Wives |

Day 19 of Whumpuary2025 (@whumpuary) || "Let them go." | Overworked | Head Injury

You can also read | With no Light of my Own (I Shine Only With The Light You Gave Me) | on Ao3!

Warnings Include: Mentions Death of Minors, Mentions of Neglect (From the City), Mentions of Death, Mentions of Dead Characters

……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ………

"Get up. Let's go." Ponyboy flinched in surprise as Steve dropped a jacket onto his head. Ponyboy pushed the jacket off of his head, glaring up at the other who was staring down at him unimpressed.

"Why should I?" Ponyboy muttered, pushing the jacket onto the ground beside him as he glared almost petulantly at the other.

"Because I said so, twerp." Steve responded, crossing his arms with a glare on his face. Ponyboy made another face at him, pulling his knees to his chest just a little more. Steve rolled his eyes as he reached down and grabbed Ponyboy's arm, pulling him up and snagging the jacket off the ground in one quick motion.

"What the fuck?" Ponyboy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Soda! I'm taking your brother out for a walk!" Ponyboy baulked at the other.

"I'm not a damn dog, Steve." Ponyboy huffed, but he let Steve shove his shoes at him, along with the jacket that Ponyboy had initially shoved away. He did listen to the silent command to put his shoes on, although he still refused to put on the damn jacket.

"Alright, you guys will be back soon right? Darry will be home soon, and I need Pony's help with dinner." Sodapop's head popped out from the kitchen. The smell of chocolate cake batter sticking to him when he stepped out.

"We can try, but you might want to start on that yourself, and he can help with whatever after we get back." Steve told him, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway.

Sodapop hummed as he pulled Ponyboy into a brief hug. The scent of Chocolate Cake batter was stronger on Sodapop, and Ponyboy let his brother hug him before pulling back. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with too much physical contact.

"It may be colorful," Sodapop smiled brightly. Ponyboy and Steve both rolled their eyes, both having their own forms of a smile on their faces. "Now get. Get, get, get." Sodapop shoved at Ponyboy's shoulder and patted Steve's shoulder when Steve pushed off the doorway.

Ponyboy made a face as Steve turned and pointed towards the door as Sodapop made his way back towards the kitchen. He was probably assuming, correctly, that Ponyboy would make a run for it should Steve go ahead of him.

Didn't mean that he wasn't going to complain the entire time.

Ponyboy grumbled as he walked out the door, still refusing to put on the jacket. Steve made his own sound of annoyance, though he didn't say anything.

"Why are we here." Ponyboy's voice was quiet when he spotted the entrance to the graveyard. He'd stopped in the middle of the half abandoned road that they had to walk down.

The graveyard was nothing special. Glory, it wasn't even officially recognized as a graveyard by the city. It was just something that the greasers used whenever one of their own fell and weren't cared about enough for an official gravestone.

Darry couldn't afford to attempt getting just one of them an official gravestone. So they made their own and held their own little funeral at the half abandoned clearing that most greaser's used for the fallen.

Ponyboy was always vividly aware that every single gravestone was for a kid.

"Keep walking." Steve told him. His voice was quieter, and there was some weird tone to it that Ponyboy hadn't heard before from Steve.

Ponyboy wasn't sure how, but he'd managed to get his legs to respond to his command again. Everything felt heavy as he walked. He wasn't even sure if he was truly seeing anything as he walked. His head was lowered and he knew they were filled with tears.

He knew where they were going. Steve wouldn't have them come here for any reason other than to visit them.

Ponyboy felt himself falter when he came to the well worn pathway. He hadn't been here since they were buried. Not really, at least.

He'd known exactly where they were buried, having chosen the spot they were buried specifically. He'd never officially managed to come visit them, though there had been a few attempts.

Ponyboy hadn't realized that he was just standing in front of both makeshift gravestones until Steve had put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sit down." Ponyboy's knees buckled, and he was slightly surprised when Steve caught him and gently lowered both of them. "Easy, Pony." Ponyboy sucked in a breath when he realized that he was beginning to hold it. A coping skill that he'd, unfortunately, picked up from Sodapop.

"Wh-" There was definitely a sob beginning to build up in his chest. He already couldn't see. Not that he was looking at anything but the ground. "Why are we here." Ponyboy tried to demand.

His voice was too weak.

"You need to let them go." Ponyboy jerked away from Steve. Or, he'd tried to. Steve was stronger than he was and Ponyboy felt like even lifting his head was too hard for him.

"The hell are you talking about Steve?" Ponyboy muttered, crossing his arms. Ponyboy liked not staring or having to look at the other. Especially for what he now knew was going to be an emotional conversation.

"I'm talking about the sleepless nights that are scaring the fuck outta Soda, and the scrapes and bruises you think you're hiding from Two-Bit and I at school. I'm talking about the countless drawings of Dallas and Johnny that are causing you to go through sketchbook after sketchbook and notebook after notebook." Steve responded.

Ponyboy crossed his arms, trying his best to ignore everything Steve was saying.

"You're overworking yourself too."

"That's a lie." Ponyboy felt annoyed enough to push off Steve, no matter how heavy everything felt. He turned and glared at Steve, feeling himself falter internally when he saw just how tired the other looked.

"Is it?" Steve asked. Ponyboy glared at him, but he knew that the facade wouldn't be held up for very long. He was tired. He wouldn't go as far as to say he was overworking himself, but…

Ponyboy looked away, a glare on his face pointed towards the ground.

"Come on, kid." Steve uttered quietly. "It's just the two of us out here." Ponyboy felt the tears welling up in his eyes, but he felt unwilling to break. Steve was asking for just a bit of trust… Was asking Ponyboy to trust him enough to be vulnerable.

At least, he had been unwilling to break before Steve pulled him back to lean against him. And then the dam broke.

Ponyboy hadn't known where the sob had come from, but it was nearly impossible to stop. He broke down into sobs, leaning against Steve who wrapped his arms a little tighter around Ponyboy.

"It's okay to miss them… It's okay to cry about it… Shout, yell, break something, I don't care. It's okay, right now." Steve uttered quietly. Ponyboy wasn't entirely sure he was hearing the other properly, but…

It was almost comforting, hearing the other just speak.

Ponyboy wasn't exactly sure how long they sat there in front of the graves of two of their friends. Dally and Johnny, both having gone out too soon and with too much action.

However, he knew at some point that Two-Bit had joined the two of them, just sitting with a bit of pressure against Ponyboy's side. The three of them where all leaning against each other.

It was probably the only time he'd ever seen the two greasers cry.

And when the three of them finally managed to pull themselves together, and made their way back home, Darry only took one look at them and put a little extra food on their plates before ushering them to the kitchen table so that they could sit down and eat.

[final-bae-stination]

Thunder And The Rain (Ian McKinley)

Prompt: The reader is scared of the thunder and Ian tries to calm them down during a particularly heavy storm.

Author's Note: This does kind of go WAY out of the "Final Destination" universe, because I like to think, even though it was proven different, they could've beat Death at the end, and Wendy, Kevin, Julie, and Ian survived, so...we're going with that.

Third Person POV Ian hated life, or what passed for it. Somehow, Wendy did it. She beat Death, and in three years, nothing's happened to him, Wendy, Julie, or Kevin. Sure, they were all still extremely paranoid, but who wasn't anymore, after the shit they'd lived through, but barely? The truth was, he missed Erin, but Y/N took care of that.

After he left Build It after Erin's death, he'd been struggling for a job. Nothing seemed interesting. And then, surprisingly, he found one: the pound. He liked animals more than people, that was a fact. Sure, he tolerated Wendy and the others, but it wasn't a necessary kind of like. And, of course, he still hated Wendy for killing Erin (though he was sure that part was fading a little--he literally went shopping with her two weeks ago). He liked to work at the pound, which doubled as an animal rescue and vet clinic. And then he met you.

You were there, just starting a week after him, and he saw immediately that you were drawn to (favorite animal). He could see it: they were cute. Hard to resist. Made sense. What didn't make sense was you talking. To him. A lot. Alone, too. Like, okay, he knew he looked weird, all Gothic and whatnot, and that he was...weird, sure. But you didn't seem to notice that. You talked to him like a normal person, and try as he might not to, he liked that. You didn't treat him differently because he was different.

It was very, very slow, but you both started catching feelings, he'd asked you out, and one thing led to here: you, on your sofa in you and Ian's apartment, watching TV. You and Ian had gotten together four months ago, and he'd finally opened up, telling you everything, from his past to Erin, and things in between, the trauma dumping: the roller coaster accident, the near death experiences, losing Erin, watching the others die, the whole Death thing. You never once doubted he was serious or anything but crazy, because he had a look on his face, talking about it, that wasn't fake.

Now, you've not told him a lot, either, particularly your fear of storms, especially thunder. You felt it was childish, even though there were a million adults with the same fear. It's just...Ian seemed so fearless after everything, and you wanted to be that way for him, so you never told him your fears (you did admit spiders and snakes scared you, though).

As you're watching TV (Ian was at work), you heard the rain, and then the ominous rumble. You tensed, hand on the remote. Another boom, slow and heavy. Shit, you thought. Please not now, Ian's almost home! But the storm, obviously, did not listen, increasing the peals of thunder until you were shivering under your blanket, trying to turn the TV up to block it out. But then the lights flickered, and went out. You gasped, feeling panic clawing its way up your throat, through your veins. Is this how he felt? You ask yourself randomly. Is this what Ian felt, wondering when he'd die, and what from, and how? You shook your head. In the dark, that wasn't helping. Something slammed, and you jumped, heart pounding. You wanted to call out but were too scared. You flinched as thunder roared, lightning shooting across the sky.

"Babe?" A voice calls, and oh, you wanted to start bawling in relief. He finds you on the couch, under your blanket, shaking. "Shit, babe, what's wrong?!" He throws his coat, not even glancing at where it lands, and rushes over, kneeling at your side on the floor. "Babe. Hey." He says, his fingers under your chin as you hide. "Baby, what's wrong?" "It's nothing." You try to say, but he's not having it. Before he can speak, thunder booms, and you squeal, throwing yourself in his arms. He barely catches you, letting out a soft "oof" as he holds you in his lap, feeling you shake. "Baby...is it the thunder?" He asks, and your silence confirms it. "Oh, babe." He breathes, rubbing your back with one hand, the other in your hair.

"I know, it's dumb," You whisper into his red shirt. "No, no, it's not dumb, baby." He says soothingly. "There's a fuck ton of people that're scared, too." He tries to assure. You shake your head, "I feel like a child." You whine. He chuckles, "Well, that's why I'm here. 'Cuz I can protect you, right?" A pause. "Right. I love you, Ian." His breath catches. That was the first time you'd said that. "I love you, Y/N." He whispers. "Why don't we go to bed, yeah? I can throw on a movie or something on my computer." "I'd like that," You blush, and he carries you to the room, setting you on the bed. You pick out The Avengers, and you both curl up to watch it. Here and there, one of the peals of thunder makes you flinch, but with Ian beside you, it's really not that bad.

[fallenwhumpee]

"An Hour."

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Hospital settings, aftermath of captivity, mentioned death.

Medic, despite what their job would suggest, wasn't a caregiver. They were just a mechanic working on circuits, not who carefully kept the whole mechanism running. They could fix people, but it was that. Someone would have to take over the aftermath.

Much to Medic's relief, Leader was a caregiver. A good one, even.

Too good, they lately noticed. Too good that it was starting to make Medic worried. But just like every other day, Medic knocked the infirmary door in exactly same time, before opening it fully. Youngest was asleep in the hospital bed - Medic had said Leader that it was unnecessary, but Leader  brought one anyway - and at last drops of their IV.

"An hour," Leader muttered. At this point it felt like a ritual. So, without a word, Medic moved and changed Youngest's IV to antibiotics as Leader deserted the room silently. Probably to sleep.

Good, Medic thought. Leader needed it.

Medic made their way to the armchair, only to see Leader's office keys on it. For a moment, they considered giving it back. They respected privacy, but they were also curious. For the last one month and a half, all Leader did was looking for Youngest, caring for Youngest or staying in their office. The first two was understandable, but the third...

Now Medic could learn whatever Leader was doing in their office.

Medic hesitated. They shouldn’t invade Leader’s privacy—Leader had done nothing to earn suspicion, at all. And Leader never broke anyone's boundries, so Medic doing it to them was just wrong. But something had been gnawing at the back of Medic’s mind for weeks now, something beyond the usual worry for Youngest. Leader’s behavior, so single-minded, so intense, felt wrong. So wrong for someone almost obsessed with making the future better. And if there was something in that office that could explain it...

Steeling themselves, Medic turned and walked down the hall to Leader’s office. The key slid into the lock with an ease that almost felt too simple. "Where's Leader?" Medic shouted. Leader's room was wide open and Leader wasn't there.

"Went for a quick walk," Right Hand shouted back.

Medic took a deep breath. "Okay," they muttered. With a simple twist, the door creaked open. Medic slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind them slowly. The room was dim, the only light filtering through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the walls. At first glance, it looked like any other office—neat, organized, professional. Just like how Leader liked to keep everything. Medic opened the lights.

Notes. Dozens of them, pinned to a board on the wall, scattered across the desk, and even taped to the edges of the bookshelves, almost creating a wallpaper. Most were in Leader’s precise handwriting, detailing locations, names, dates, and other pieces of information that, together, painted a picture out of a detective's office. Medic’s gaze was drawn to a map on the wall, marked with pins and red string connecting various points. They moved closer, recognizing the locations as places where incidents had occurred—break-ins, disappearances, attacks. All related to Youngest.

Their heart pounded as they picked up a file from the desk. It had a picture, the person's face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking who it was. Medic had seen that face around Whumper—one of the underlings of them. The person had been found dead two weeks ago, the cause still under investigation. There were detailed reports about them, autopsies, locations, biographies... informations that Medic doubted Leader had the authority to kno let alone storing.

They set the file down, their hands trembling slightly. Leader had been gathering evidence, but it wasn’t just about finding Youngest. It was about something more.

Another photo on the desk caught their eye. Medic took it, revealing more photos, more notes underneath. Some were crossed out, others highlighted. A list of names—people connected to the kidnapping—each one with a note beside it: confirmed dead, under surveillance, possible lead.

Some of these people were no longer a threat because they were dead. Was it coincidence, or had Leader...?

The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped Medic out of their thoughts. They hurriedly closed the folder and placed thr picture back on the desk, glancing around to make sure everything was as they’d found it. The door clicked shut just as the office door opened.

Leader stepped inside, looking tired but alert. They froze for a moment, eyes narrowing as they stared in the sight of Medic standing in their office.

“What are you doing here?” Leader’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a warning.

Medic tried to keep their expression neutral, forcing a casual shrug qs if they weren’t digging through the room for the last ten minutes. “You left your keys on the chair. Thought I’d drop them off.”

Leader’s gaze flicked to the keys in Medic’s hand, then back to their face. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Leader crossed the room, taking the keys with a nod.

“Thank you,” they said, their tone polite but distant. “Please wait for my return next time.”

Medic nodded, feeling the tension in the air like a physical weight. They turned to leave, but couldn’t help one last glance at the desk, at the folder now lying innocently on the surface.

Leader didn’t miss the look. “Is there something else?”

“No,” Medic replied quickly, shaking their head. “Just... take care of yourself, okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Leader’s expression relaxed, a smile so soft and tender taking over. “Don't worry. Byt you should get some rest too.”

How could Medic be suspicious of them when all Leader did was worrying and caring for the team? Shoving the guilt down, they forced a smile and left the office.

-•-

Later that day, Medic was in the break room when the news broke. The television mounted on the wall buzzed with static before the anchor’s voice cut in, somber and urgent.

“We interrupt this program with breaking news. Henchman, a key figure in the recent string of criminal activities linked to the late terrorist Whumper, was found dead earlier this evening. Authorities are investigating, but details remain scarce at this time.”

Medic’s blood ran cold. Henchman—another name on Leader’s list. Dead. Just like the others.

They stood frozen, the room spinning around them. The timeline didn’t add up. Leader couldn’t have done it—they had only left the office for ten minutes, not enough time to cross the city and back. But the coincidences were too many, too pointed.

When Medic next saw Leader, they couldn’t help but study their face, searching for anything. But Leader looked even more drained than the last time, still trying to hold it together desperately. When Medic mentioned the news, Leader’s response was calm, almost indifferent.

“Tragic, but not unexpected,” Leader muttered, shrugging slightly. They weren’t even focused— they looked like they could just collapse and take a twenty four hour nap. “Agency was after them. It was only a matter of time.”

Medic nodded slowly, but the uneasy feeling in their gut only grew. There was something, something that was beyond their understanding. But as Leader walked away, Medic knew one thing for certain— Leader was doing something wrong. It was either their sleeping habits or the team had a huge problem.

-•-

Soo, have another random one. This is standalone, but I wrote this with "A Score to Settle" in my mind. Not quite part two, but I began writing with that intention.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hell Nanny:

Vaggie:*looks at Adam* Weird...I feel like I've seen him before...maybe it's just my imagination... *when she and Charlie are in heaven* Vaggie:*sees a memorial for Adam*...oh...shit

Vaggie: He was THE Adam. The first man, no wonder he looks so familiar.

Charlie: Yeah, I know who he is he took care of me my whole life.

Vaggie: Hun, his story is very sad......

[spinchip]

NEVER THE DARK

CHAPTER 13

Read on Ao3

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12

!WARNING: refrences to ancient, non graphic child loss!

NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN LOST. // ALL IS TRUTH AND WAY.

“Gravis, Griffin, and I just arrived on scene, Pix.” Skylors voice crackles through her radio, “The civilian reports weren’t exaggerating- there’s a giant, er, slug-like animal here. In fact, ‘giant’ might even be an understatement.” Her girlfriend sounds openly bewildered.

Pix frowns, “Is it hostile?”

“Not on purpose. It keeps picking up cars and uprooting traffic lights, but it doesn't seem aware it’s doing it. It’s just bumping into things and they’re sticking.” Skylor reports, “The trail of slime it’s leaving is smoking, though, but it doesn’t look like it’s eating at the road.”

“Have Gravis move it to a less densely populated area- out of town completely would be best if at all possible.”

“Already on it. I’ll call Warden Nobel and have him bring us another containment cell.”

Skylor was always on the ball in the field, and Pixal was grateful she was by her side, “Thank you, Sky. Can you alert Commissioner McLane to the possible hazardous materials and have him block off the street until we can have Tox examine it?”

“I’ll send speedster over now.”

At Skylors affirmative, Pixal sets her radio to the side and continues looking through her extensive set of videos pulled from all over Ninjago city. She trusted her father had done what he could to get a hit on Dixie with his facial recognition software, but she wanted to be extra certain she couldn’t find the other woman the same way. She’d started with the cameras around the museum in an attempt to find the escape route the other thief had taken after defeating the ninja, but had come up with nothing. Despite having the technology to feed these videos into and get results in a matter of seconds, Pixal chose to go through the cameras with her own eyes. Her pattern and facial recognition was leagues above any of the market value programs, and if anyone was going to catch the woman’s face in the background of a walmart CCTV feed it would be her. The woman was incredibly skilled at avoiding cameras, apparently, because Pixal was coming up with nothing, nothing, and more nothing. She even had video archives open from years and years ago, hoping to comb through them all and find a facial match for her, to at least give her something to go off of. No luck there, either.

The last set of camera feeds on her upper set of screens is current security footage from several different vantage points throughout Ninjago- these weren’t monitoring for the thief. She’d tapped these in order to monitor the streets of Ninjago which were quickly becoming overrun with monsters she’d never seen before. The slug incident today was the latest in a long line of beasts that seemed to just… appear and begin wrecking havoc. The other elemental masters had been up to their ears in emergency situations, evacuations, and damage control. Today, it was a slug, a skittering weevil-like creature that crashed into several storefronts before dying in downtown Ninjago with no warning, and a flock of birds with bony protrusions on their back and acid spit. The past week has been much the same.

It was sheer good luck that Kryptarium prisons' deeper, more fortified cells were able to contain these animals.

As Pixal flicks through the camera feeds, there’s a familiar chime from her phone. She snatches it up and punches the answer button before the second ring, “Ronin.” She greets briskly, keeping her eyes on the screen as she leans back and crosses her arms.

“You called?” He drawls through the phone, and she can clearly envision him leaned back with his feet propped upon his desk. The very picture of relaxed.

“I need you in Ninjago yesterday. Your expertise is required.” She says immediately, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“Yeah, Yeah, I got your voicemail.” There’s a shuffle on his end, as if he’ sitting up in interest at the topic, “What’s in it for me?”

“You will have a hand in saving Ninjago.” She says flatly. He makes a noncommittal grunt and she barely resists rolling her eyes, “Fine.” She slaps her keyboard and pulls up his criminal record, “You have three unpaid fines here that have put out a warrant for your arrest for- really? Those are huge fines for… illegal parking?”

“I know!”

“Consider them paid off… if you come to Borg tower.” She bargains.

There’s another grunt, this time a winded cough of exertion as he gets to his feet. “What do you need me for anyway?” He grumbles, yawning into the phone.

Pixal slumps a little, “There is a new villain in town- he is working with bounty hunters. I need your help identifying one of the girls working for him.”

“You know not every bounty hunter knows each other, right?”

“I am aware that you and her have spent several years in this profession at the same time.” She says coolly, “If anyone were to know her, it would be you. Will you come?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming to Borg tower. It’ll be a few hours.” She hears the jangle of keys on the other line, “Don’t forget to take care of my fines.”

With one hand, Pixal infiltrates the police database and erases the marks off his criminal record entirely. There was no hint that he’d ever so much as looked at an illegal parking space. It takes ten seconds at most,  “Done.” She says simply, and hangs up the phone.

Another hour of nothing passes by, with a brief update from Skylor about the slug and no further activity on the cameras to be concerned about. She checks her email a few times and shoots Wu another text that he doesn’t respond to- he’d gone out to Misakos current archeological dig site to discuss the gauntlet with her, and was completely off the grid because of it. Or he was ignoring her texts. Pixal has a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that he was hiding something, but there’s no proof other than her gut feeling. She wouldn't start anything over a bad vibe.

She does another useless search for the gauntlet and once again comes up empty- there was nothing about the artifact on the internet or in any digitized academic databases she checked. There were mentions of gauntlets or sets of armor, but nothing that matched up with the powers they’d seen so far. The longer Wu went without checking in, the more certain Pixal became that he’d hit a wall too. All Misakos encyclopedic history knowledge, and even she hadn't heard of this thing… Where were they supposed to go from here?

She’s so lost in thought that the sudden screech of the red panic alarm above her head causes her to launch up out of her chair and to her feet, staggering with the surge of pseudo-adrenaline that floods her processor. She scrambles for her radio and flips it to the correct frequency just in time to hear Dareth's panicked voice shouting from the line, “-taking him to the roof!”

“Dareth! What’s going on?” Pixal demands, reaching out and turning off the alarm with the keypad next to the wall before taking off towards the elevator.

“The thief is back, and she’s stealing your father!” Dareth wails through the radio.

Pixal punches the elevator call button four times in a panic despite the fact the extra pushes won’t will it to get here any faster. This is exactly why she advocated for stairs in the ninja's private penthouse- a project the others continually put off. (“We can just jump out the window and airjitzu down. No big deal!” Well what about if you need to go up!) Stupid! “What?” She demands, squeezing through the elevator doors before they’ve fully opened.

“I’ll explain later- right now you need to get to the roof!” He says urgently, his cartoony voice uncharacteristically serious.

“I am headed that way now. I will meet you there-”

“Sorry, Pix, but you’re on your own here.” His voice comes through with a wince, “I’m down for the count.”

She feels a cold chill sweep over her body, “Are you okay?”

“I’m not dying. Get to the roof, save your father, and we’ll worry about me later.” His voice comes through firm and gentle- there’d been a time where Pixal had written Dareth off as someone she’d always need to protect, but moments like this remind Pixal that Dareth was steady and solid. He’d been training ever since her Father asked him to stay by his side, his skills had grown and he’d become a formidable opponent. It had to have been someone strong to put him down- and he definitely didn't get benched without putting up a fight.

She had to be ready when these doors opened.

“Call Skylor.” She orders, the act of taking control offering her a calm she desperately needed, “She was on her way back to the tower, she can get to you quicker than I can. Do not die.”

“Ten-four, Boss.”

There’s no more time to talk. The elevator doors open up to the roof with a ding! And immediately Pixal is assaulted by whipping wind and the loud roar of helicopter blades slicing the air into pieces. She rushes out onto the tarmac, sprinting straight for the group of people loading her struggling father into the helicopter. Standing out from the black clad ensemble is a shock of bright pink hair. The thief, the woman who took her friends away, looks back at her with a bored, neutral expression. Pixels coolant feels like it’s boiling. The other woman turns towards another member of her crew and says something Pixal can’t hear through all the noise and motions to the sky as if to say shoo!

Then, without a second of hesitation, she spins around and charges at Pixal in return. She’s fast, putting a significant amount of space between Pixal and her father when the two women meet in a clash of fists on the middle of the roof. Pixal has to keep her head on straight, but she can feel her calm, controlled mask rapidly deteriorating each time she catches a glimpse of her father getting strapped into the Helicopters back seat.

He’s looking at her with fear in his eyes, but there’s a calm reassurance there- he knows she won’t get to him in time. It’s okay, Pixal.

A pang of heartbreak bruises her power core. She feels her fighting turn vicious, jabs and punches hitting and hitting hard, until she finally slams the woman face down against the roof. She whips out a set of cuffs from her jumpsuit and slaps them on her wrists- They activate with a hum and Pixal jabs the power button frantically. The cuff link beeps and Pixal slams the woman's wrists down on the rooftop beneath her, the cuffs latching onto the roof and rendering her immobile.

Pixal leaps to her feet and spins around- the helicopter is off the roof, probably has been for a while, and it’s flying across Ninjago faster than Pixal could feasibly catch. She’d have to race down the stairs to the sub basement, gear up, and then give chase- they’d be gone by then. They were already gone.

Her chest feels like it’s caving in. Why? Why can’t she save the people she loves? Why is she always on the sidelines, just a second too late?

Pull yourself together. She takes a deep, shuddering breath just to move air through her circuits. The thick smell of asphalt brings her mind back to the current issue- she turns around to find the thief still cuffed to the roof, her mouth and nose covered with blood and that infuriating bored expression on her face.

A ringing fills Pixal head and she feels disconnected from her body, pushing away her despair so hard she distances herself from her own processor.

Pixal hauls her up and takes her down the stairs to the ninjas level, not caring when she stumbles to keep up with Pixals rapid pace. She can’t care about anything right now. They rarely use the actual interrogation room, but Pixal fishes out the key for it now. On one side is the classic one-way glass and a few metal chairs seated at a metal table securely fastened to the floor. Pixal uncuffs the restrictive suppression bonds and switches them out for classic metal cuffs, weaving the chain through another padlock and chain attached to the table so she doesn’t get any funny ideas. She’s moving on autopilot, clicking locks together with practiced, robotic movements. She has to keep herself together, everyone is relying on her. Once she’s secure, Pixal washes her hands. After that she politely hands her a box of tissues so she can mop up her bloody face and gets her a glass of water and an ice pack.

She doesn’t say anything to the thief, who matches her silence quietly. Pixal observes her behind the one-way glass for several long minutes.

The bubble around her pops, and reality rushes back in. She sucks in a sharp breath and turns away, whipping her radio out and hitting the button frantically, “Dareth?” She questions. No response, “Dareth, status report.”

A long pause.

The radio crackles, “He’s alright, Pix.” Skylor’s voice comes through from Dareths radio, “He’s with the medic now. A few broken bones, but nothing life threatening.”

Pixal closes her eyes and presses the radio to her forehead, relief so deep she can almost feel it in her circuits. “Stay with him, please, and ask him what happened once he is cleared for visitors.” She glances over at the pink haired woman, who looks completely at ease as she balls up a blood soaked tissue and sets it on a clean tissue to avoid getting blood on the table top, “I caught our mystery thief from the museum break in.” Two mismatched eyes glance up and seem to meet Pixals green ones before skating away to look around the empty room, “I’m going to see what I can find out.”

The woman smiles serenely and settles back, unconcerned.

“Good luck. Call me if you need me, okay?”

“I will.”

The room is still deafeningly quiet when Pixal goes back inside. The click of the door closing behind her feels harsh on her audio processor. It’s sterile, with gray floors and white walls and fluorescent lights strung across the ceiling. Pixal sits at one of the available chairs on the other side of the table,  “My name is Pixal borg. I have a few questions for you.”

The woman smiles wider.

“Hello, Miss Borg. Ask whatever you like.”

She spends the next hour asking questions to a brick wall. The thief is listening and attentive to every one of Pixar’s words, but at the end of each question or statement is pointed and resolute silence. She doesn’t rise to any bait Pixal sets out- she doesn’t get angry or scoff when Pixal slips in subtle insults, she doesn’t preen over praise, she doesn’t even look tired or annoyed as the questioning continues on and on. She’s the picture perfect image of poise, and Pixal can’t gain an inch.

Her phone rings at the hour and fifteen minute mark. She answers it with a palpable relief to have something else to do other than fail at questioning her only lead about this kidnapping, “Pixal speaking.” She greets briskly, stepping out of the room and rolling imaginary soreness from her shoulders.

“What’s with all the blood on the roof?” Ronin asks curiously.

Pixal winces- she’d handed out a few good left hooks during their scuffle, “The thief I needed you to identify made an appearance today. I caught her.”

“Damn, did you break her nose or something?”

“Her employer kidnapped my father.” She reveals bluntly.

Ronin sucks a hiss of air through his teeth at that, “…Okay, well, send me up the elevator and I’ll come down.”

Pixal calls the elevator and once it arrives she steps inside and rides it back up to the roof. She’s beginning to hate this thing. She clicks her radio just to be doing something, “Any news, Sky?”

“Dareth is sleeping off anesthesia right now, sorry.”

“Thank you. Ronin has just arrived, I believe he will be able to help.”

“Keep me updated.” Skylor says pointedly.

“I will.” Pixal holsters her radio, staring at the closed doors in front of her. She felt so useless- she couldn’t get a peep out of either of their two leads, she was stuck inside doing futile research while random monsters were running wild through Ninjago, and she couldn’t stop her father from getting kidnapped from right under her nose.

The doors open to Ronin leaning casually against the wall waiting for it. He whistles low, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, “You look like shit.” Are the first words out of his mouth.

“It has been a rough week.” She says tightly.

“It’s Tuesday.”

“Get in the elevator.”

He obliges and she takes them back down to the Ninjas floor, filing him in on the situation as they ride down. He’s rubbing his scruff in thought as the doors open up and they step out, thinking hard, “There are two possible options I’m thinking of, Maybe Milena or Raven. Both of them color their hair regularly, and they’re sloppy enough to get caught like that.” He muses, “I’ve never heard of a Dixie Samson though, which makes sense if she’s a rookie.”

Pixal heads straight towards the interrogation room, feeling an inkling of dread- part of her is convinced the woman would have vanished in the time it took her to bring Ronin back here. She feels a line of tension leave her shoulders when she walks back inside to see her still sitting there casually on the other side of the glass.

Ronin stops dead in his tracks, “By the first master- You have got to be kidding me.” He groans, reaching up to run a hand down his face. He looks back up at the woman and does a full body wince.

“Do you know her?” Pixal cant help the amused curve of her lips at Ronins dramatics.

“Do I know her…” He grumbles darkly, dragging his feet up to the window, “She’s my ex sister in law.”

Pixals checklist of questions on the woman is immediately derailed in surprise, “You were married?”

“Everyone makes mistakes.” He defends.

“Who would agree to- no, it is not important right now. What can you tell me about her?”

“I can tell you she’s only in those cuffs because she wants to be.” He grimaces, “Her name is Stella and I doubt there's a set of restraints good enough to hold her short of strapping her down like Hannibal Lecter, and I’m skeptical if even that would work. If she’s still here, she has ulterior motives. She wants something from you, or she wants something in this building.”

“She already took everything.” Pixal barely resists baring her teeth. She sighs, “I need to get information from her.”

“Sorry, but you’re out of luck there. I can promise you she won't speak a word of her employer. You couldn’t waterboard info out of her if she doesn’t want to tell you.” He delivers the bad news bluntly.

“So this is another dead end.”

“Not exactly.” Ronin crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the glass, “Stella isn’t cheap to hire and if we throw in who exactly she’s dealing with- Borg, the ninja, you- that’ll only make this job that much more expensive. So we can confidently narrow down her employer to Ninjagos one percent.” He grins at Pixals shocked expression, “She does damn good work- the best work- but it’ll cost ya. That big paycheck is what ensures her loyalty. As long as her employer is supplementing her bank account, her lips are sealed- even in the face of torture.”

“She’s all about money…” Pixal turns that over in her mind, looking for the piece she needs to unravel Stella's loyalty.

Ronin shrugs, “All mercenaries are, Stella just has the status and reputation to be bought out by the richest of the rich. With that amount of cash backing her up, You wouldn't be able to even threaten anything out of her.”

Pixal holds up her hand, stopping Ronins words as she carefully considers his words. “I don’t need to threaten her.” As if she’d had an epiphany, Pixal immediately takes off around the corner. Ronin ends up scrambling after her, Following her into Stella's interrogation room just barely before the door closes.

Stella looks relaxed and unconcerned, that same bored expression she's always wearing on her face. She’s got her chair kicked back and her feet on the table, her cuffed hands folded over her belly as she observed them come inside. She raises a brow at Ronin and opens her mouth to speak but Pixal beats her to it.

Pixal yanks out a leather wallet from her jumpsuit and grabs a pen from her from breast pocket, “I am aware you will not speak against your employer, and I am also aware he is paying you a lot of money to keep his secrets.” She sits down in front of Stella, slamming her pocket book and pen to the table, “But I’m Pixal fucking Borg.”

She opens the book and pulls out a stack of checks, signing one and sliding it across the table blank, “Are you interested in new employment?”

Heartbeats pass. Ronin is staring at the check so hard Pixals half sure his eyes are about to pop out of his head, but Stella looks as cool and collected as ever. If Pixal had to breathe she’d be holding it, praying that the gamble works. Stella carefully takes each foot off the table and sits up straight, scooting her chair forward and resting her elbows on the table. She studies the check for a long moment before her lips twitch, the scar at the corner of her mouth pulling her lips into a pleased smile.

“I don’t want your money, Pixal Borg.” She gently, strangely respectfully, tears the check in half and slides the pieces across the table towards the two. Ronin makes a sound like a wounded animal at the action.

Pixals heart plummets.

“But there is something I do want.” Stella continues before Pixal can feel the full weight of failure. Stella looks at Pixal with a firm, intense furrow to her brow. “I will tell you everything I know if you do me a favor. I don’t know what or when that will be. This is what I do know: You are the most powerful woman in Ninjago, Pixal Borg, and I want you to owe me.”

“Deal.” Pixal hold out her hand for Stella to shake without a second of hesitation. Her friends, her family, her father- everyone was relying on her, and she needed this information because right now they had nothing.

But as Stella takes her hand in a firm grip, Pixal can’t help but feel like she’s made a deal with the devil.

Sella sits back, bored expression sinking over her features once more, “His name is Broden Voss, the CEO of Voss Technologies.” She gets right down to business. Pixal recognizes the name in flashes of memory- a place card at a table during a charity event, investors threats to take their money elsewhere when her fathers quarterly review is lower than expected, a flash of red hair and a shark-like smile as a towering man shakes her hand at a high brow cocktail party, “He hired me to infiltrate Ninjago Citys Museum of History after his previous hire, Dixie Samson, failed. I was tasked with finding and retrieving a gauntlet forged by one of Voss’s ancestors, a warlord by the name of Utano whose armor had mystical powers. I was paid to do whatever possible to return this gauntlet to him, and as such I used one of the abilities in the gauntlet to send the ninja to another Realm. The only other ability I've seen... I have witnessed Voss change the gauntlet configuration with a thought. Essentially shapeshifting, though I can't be certain how far that particular gift goes.

“Voss’s plan always centered around Cyrus Borg. Ever since Voss Technology was usurped as Ninjagos main technology company by Borg Industries, he’s felt cheated and wronged. Now that he has this powerful artifact, he intends on using it to tear Ninjago apart and rebuild it with Voss tech, installing himself back in the forefront of tech manufacturing,” She pins Pixal with a pointed look, “He’s obsessed with defeating Cyrus Borg- but your father is not in any immediate danger.”

Pixal feels a bit of tension leave her shoulders, “I have time to save him?”

“Voss wants Borg to have a front row seat to the fall of his empire. He wants Cyrus alive to see the rubble of Borg Tower and after that, I don’t know. Now that he has Borg, though, his plan will be entering the final phase. He will use the power of the gauntlet to open portals throughout downtown ninjago- I know several of the locations he’s planning on placing them that I can pass along. He’s targeting centralized, high traffic areas so he can flood the streets with monsters as quickly and effectively as possible. He is aiming for the absolute maximum amount of destruction in every inch of the city.” She steeples her fingers, “Evacuate the city. Now.”

She doesn’t hesitate on this, raising her Borg radio to her mouth, “Sky, I am officially ordering a full evacuation of the city. I will explain everything later, but right now I need you and the others mobilized.” At Skylors confirmation, Pixal turns her attention back to Stella, “Monsters from where, exactly? Where do these portal lead?”

Where did you send my friends?

Stella pauses on this question, aware the answer will not be one Pixal is thrilled to hear, “The Realm of Madness.” She reveals. “What’s going to come through that portal are some of the most terrifying monsters Ninjago has ever seen, and if I’m any good at reading people- and I am the very best- I can tell you that Broden Voss will not be able to control the chaos he creates. If you can’t stop this, it could lead to more destruction than Ninjago has ever seen.”

“Well,” Pixal says tersely, “Maybe I would have a better chance stopping him if the ninja had not been sent to the Realm of madness and unable to help.”

“Yeah, my bad.”

Ronin trails Pixal as she goes back to the computers, sitting down roughly and opening up a new tab to start another bout of research. Now she had a name- Utano, a great warlord. Pixal could work with that. She pauses and glances at Ronin, curiosity picking at her, “Your sister in law, eh?”

He lets out a put upon sigh and crosses his arms, “Ex sister in law, I’ll remind you.”

“Who became a bounty hunter first?”

“...She was,” He admits grudgingly, “She’s been in the game longer than most.”

Pixal frowns, “I went through countless security feeds and crime reports- That long and she hasn’t gotten caught on camera anywhere? Not even during a trip to the grocery store?”

“Oh, she definitely has. You just don’t know where to look.” He sits down next to her, “She changes her appearance just as seamlessly as Chamille- hair dye, prosthetics, contacts… her eyes aren’t actually blue and brown, you know. She’s evaded any and all facial recognition with clever makeup and smoke-and-mirror tricks.” Pixal opens her mouth, “-And no, I am not going to tell you what to look for. Even if I wasn't a fellow mercenary following the mercenary code, Stella is not an enemy anyone wants to have.”

“Okay.” Pixal relents, “Do you know what this favor could be?”

“No clue.” He shrugs and peeks over her shoulder, “You looking up that warlord guy?”

“Girl.” Pixal corrects as she scans over the basic wikipedia page she’d pulled up. There was… little here, “No parents listed, no spouse. She had one child later in life, but there is no information on them, Not even a name. She was married to a powerful lord in her twenties, but he died a year after they wed. She rose to power through extremist political lobbying and strategic battles with her personal militia until she had conquered over half of ninjago.”

Ronin quirks a brow, “No mention of her magic armor?”

“None here. All it says is she was killed by the elemental masters of creation during her final battle.” Pixal goes back to her original search, “But that was just wikipedia, I’m sure there’s more information somewhere.”

Spoiler alert: There was not more information anywhere.

Pixal scours the internet, following dead end academic papers and documentaries- she even got desperate and checked reddit, of all places. Even after using her status to get into parts of the internet usually barred from the general public, she still came up with nothing. “There are scrolls referenced in all of these papers, but I cannot find the scrolls. They were never digitalized, and apparently no one knows where they went.” She sits back roughly, pushing herself away from the monitor so she doesn’t have to look at it anymore.

Ronin startles awake where he’d fallen asleep on the couch after he got bored, peeking up at her over the arm of it, “Maybe Stella is lying about Utano.”

It’s at that moment that the elevator door dings open and Misako comes striding out with Wu trailing slowly behind her. She’s dressed in thick pants and a button up covered in a thin layer of sand and dirt, her hair much the same in its bun sitting on top of her head, “Did I hear you say Utano?” She asks, shrugging off her satchel and tossing it aside with a cloud of dust, “I came straight from the dig site once Wu informed me of the situation. If you already know about Utano, then we’re on the right track.”

“Misako!” Pixal stands with a smile, moving to hug the woman, “It is good to see you. We know the name, but there’s not much else on the internet to go off of.” She admits.

“I know.” Misako says with a wince, “When Wu told me about the gauntlet, I had a feeling I knew what it was. The scrolls that had any record of Utano were all under the Explorers Club’s lock and key- When I called Cecil and asked about them, he confessed that several artifacts in the clubs collection went missing the day they were all transferred to the museum's custody, apparently lost in the shuffle.”

Pixal feels her expression darken, “He is saying the explorers club lost artifacts? I find that difficult to believe.”

“I looked into it on the way here. Underhill sticks out as the most suspicious- he took off to the other side of the country and bought himself a nice, expensive house on the beach, but the rest of the club members all seem to have come into some money with similar luxury purchases as well.” Misako confirms grimly. “That doesn’t matter right now. What do you know about Utano?”

Pixal relays all the information Stella had told them and what little else she’d gleaned from the internet. Misako nods thoughtfully, “Her reign over Ninjago started hundreds and hundreds of years ago, before we were even aware the sixteen realms existed- She was part of Ninjago and the Cloud Kingdom, a parent from either realm. We refer to her armor in modern times as the Allied Armor of Azure, said to call on different realms to aid its wearer, and scholars presume she received a gift from her Cloud Kingdom parent that allowed this type of enchantment. The only pieces that were meant to survive the armor's destruction were the Helmet that we passed on to the Cloud Kingdom, and the chest plate, which we studied.”

“Is there a way to neutralize its abilities?”

“If there was a way, it would be in the stolen scrolls. As I see it, there is none.” Misako says apologetically, wincing. “Even the Elemental Masters were not able to defeat her at her most powerful.”

Pixal frowns, “The elemental masters did defeat her.”

There’s a pause, “Yes… they did, but it… wasn’t a fair fight.”

“What does that mean?” Ronin pipes up, “Did they get her while she was sleeping or something?”

Misako sighs, “You said you read she had one child, yes?” Pixal nods and Misako shakes her head, “She had three. We have private scrolls written by Utano detailing her three children and how much she loved them. The Elemental Masters of the time made a decision. They needed leverage- They needed bargaining chips. Only one child survived, and Utano was defeated.”

a heartbeat passes.

Pixal swallows down her horror, “The only way they stopped her was by going after something she cared about.”

“And from what Stella is saying, it sounds like Broden Voss doesn’t care about anything-” Ronin snorts, “Except maybe killing your dad.”

“You are not helpful.” Pixal snaps immediately.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any good news.” Misako bows her head.

“Thank you for coming, Misako, but this has been a huge waste of time.” Pixal says bitterly, turning away.

Misako doesn’t flinch at the words, knowing what stress Pixal must be under. She almost doesn’t want to say what she needs to say next. She takes a step forward and opens her mouth anyway, “I didn’t come here to tell you about Utano. Wu could have passed along that message for me.” She says softly.

Pixal looks back at her with a questioning frown, “What did you come here for?” She asks.

Misako steps to the side so Wu is standing in front of Pixal now. He looks miserable and ashamed, staring down at the floor, “I came to make sure he told you.”

Pixal feels a lightning flash of alarm go through her, “Told me what?” she swallows roughly. From where he’s laying on the couch, Ronin sits up in curiosity. There’s a pregnant pause, “I do not have time for this.” She says sharply, refusing to let her voice shake. She turns back to the computers, moving away from them. The tension in the room feels different and wrong- She doesn’t want him to say anything.

“It’s about Zane.” Wu manages to whisper, still looking at the floor.

Pixal freezes in her tracks. Her core seems to tighten painfully, icy fingers wrapping around her insides and tangling her carefully sorted wiring into knots. She slowly spins on her heel to face him again, “What about him?” She asks carefully. The question is laced with grief.

He’s going to break her heart.

Misako makes a go on gesture with her head that Wu sees out of the corner of his eye. He takes another moment to build up his nerve and looks up, meeting Pixal eye for the first time since he’d walked through that door, “Three years ago-'' He begins.

“Master Wu, I don’t need a recap,” She says tightly.

“Three years ago,” He presses on, “After we caught Aspheera, I went to see her in Kryptarium. There were questions I needed answered. When I saw her, I asked why she chose to kill him when I was the one-” He swallows and pauses for a moment, “She told me he was not dead.”

Pixal stares at him, “She did not kill him?”

Wu takes a tentative step forward, “No, she merely banished him… To the Never Realm, a realm impossible to return from.”

“He is… alive?” She breathes softly, shock rendering her dumb for several long moments. Joy and hope bubbles up her chest, “Zane is alive. We can bring him home. We just need to figure out a way to get back to Ninjago- there has to be some way to make it back.”

“Pixal…” Misako’s voice is heavy with sadness.

“Why did you keep this from us, Master Wu?” She’s trying to be angry, but the happiness spreading through her fights the frown on her face, “We could have figured it out together, all of us, and brought him home!”

Wu looks at her with wet, sorrowful eyes. Pixels smile dims.

“There is a way back from the Never Realm,” He says gravely, “The fruit of the travelers tree, high in the mountains.” Her circuits tie themselves together, she can tell another shoe is about to drop, “I discovered it three years ago, when I traveled to the Never Realm to get him.”

She’s not smiling anymore. The room is silent. The glow from the computer monitors illuminates Wu’s robe in pale blue light. It’s so, so quiet.

Her voice is steady, “Why is he not home?”

“Pixal…” He begins.

“Do not patronize me!” She shouts, tears springing to her eyes, “Why tell me this? Why bring up the past and get my hopes up just to crush them again? I have already accepted that he is dead, I did not need you to yank my feelings around like-”

“He’s not dead.” Wu cuts in, and Pixal stops mid-rant, her hands loosening from the fists she’d balled them into.

“I do not understand.” She says blankly, slumping into herself. She tries to put the pieces together, to fit the tragedy into a story that makes sense in the absence of an explaination, “He… chose to stay there?”

“No,” Wu says sadly, and then proceeds to tell her about the worst moment of his life. He tells her about coming to a land unnaturally cold and barren, snow drifts and ice that suffocated the crops and froze people whole. He tells her about the handful of towns still alive who lived under constant fear of their supernaturally powerful emperor, a man who controlled every snowflake in the land. He tells her about making the trek across the mountain and stumbling upon a species of beast hunted to near extinction by the Emperor's samurai, and finding the travelers tree. He tells her about finally coming upon the palace gates, through the Emperor's throne room doors, and who he’d found sitting atop the dais.

“It was Zane, his body, but the man we know and loved was gone.” He tells her, voice thick with pain, “He was violent and angry, and passive to the struggle and pain of others. He did not respond to my voice, he did not react to reminders of who he once was, and he did not hesitate to attempt to strike me down.”

Pixal is silent, leaning against the communications console as if her legs had no strength. She says nothing, face twisted up in aching raw grief and sadness.

“Zane… I believe he was gone, truly. He would have been horrified at what he’d become… You must understand, I did what I did to respect the man I loved as my own son.”

“What did you do?” Pixals voice cracks.

“I could not kill him,” Wu closes his eyes, “I used the fruit of the travelers tree to open a portal to the Realm of Madness… where I banished the Ice Emperor, and freed the Never Realm from his grasp.”

She bows her head, hiding her face in shadows.

“I told you all of that to tell you this… the longer the Ninja haven't returned, the more I fear there is something… or someone keeping them there. They should have made it to the Mountain of madness by now. I have the utmost faith in them, but not only am I afraid of what they might find there, I am afraid of what- or who- may find them. The Ice Emperor was a formidable foe-”

“Stop talking.” Pixal interrupts him icily, voice hard as steel.

He goes silent, staring at her.

“Master Wu… for all of your age… for every ounce of wisdom you have… you are still one of the most foolish people I have ever met.” She looks up at him and her eyes burn, hot pinpricks of fire and pain and rage. “You should have dragged him home. We would have helped him- we would have helped him! We could have saved him-! And- and you better hope the ninja run into him, and do what you failed to do and bring him back to Ninjago- or else when this blows over I am dragging you to the Realm of Madness myself and we are combing every inch of that realm until we find him ourselves!”

He shrinks with shame and guilt under her ire as she advances upon him, rage making her fans kick into high gear, “You knew he was there, you knew the- the Ice Emperor was in the Realm of Madness and you knew he could have posed a serious threat to the ninja, yet you told me they would be okay! That there was nothing to worry about! And now- I cannot go after them! I have to stay here and protect Ninjago, I cannot leave these innocent people behind like I could have a few days ago when my friends first vanished-!” She chokes on a sob, swiping hot tears out of her eyes.

“Pixal, I didn't know-" He looks gutted, "… I’m so sorry-” He starts, reaching out, but she takes a step away from him and bares her teeth.

“Do not-” She snaps, jerking a hand down to keep him away from her, “-Apologize to me. Apologize to Zane when we get him back, apologize to the ninja for keeping this from them, and then never speak to me again. That’s the only thing you can do for me, Master Wu. We’ll work together now because the city needs everyone it can get, but after that... “ She shakes her head, condemnation in her eyes.

He nods, cowed, “If that is what you want… I understand.”

She takes a deep breath, centers herself, and picks up the communicator again. She needs to talk to Skylor, Her face is grim as she raises it to her lips.

“Pixal?” He hesitantly says, before she can speak, “What are we going to do about the ninja?”

“We are going to trust they can make it home,” She says, “And we are going to do our best to make sure there is still a home to come back to.”

The first thing Cyrus smells is the thick scent of designer perfume- he was born into money, raised in the lap of luxury, expensive colognes have always been a part of his life. With the blindfold wrapped around his eyes, the smell becomes stronger and sharper. He narrows the other occupant in the room to a handful of other high society socialites. If he were in the upscale, posh parfumerie in downtown Ninjago he could appreciate the sweet earthy scent of tahitian vanilla, ylang-ylang, rosa centerfoils, italian cinnamon, jasmine, osiris root, and rose oil. An expensive bottle worn only for special occasions- he might even recognize it. As a recently kidnapped prisoner trying to figure out how to untie his wrists from the railings on his wheelchair, some of the intricacies of the scent are lost on him.

“You’ll won’t get away with this.” It feels cliche the moment it comes out of his mouth, but he can’t help but break the silence. The other person in the room is just… staring at him. Cyrus can feel the satisfied, smug gaze weighing on his shoulders. He knows he’s being watched.

“Yes, I will.” The voice is deep and smooth, effortlessly confident.

He doesn’t know what to say.

Shifting sounds in front of him, then the soft click of a wooden box closing. The sharp flick of a lighter. The smell of burning tobacco and whiskey seeps into the air.

“Would you like a cigar, Cyrus?”

“I never acquired a taste for them.” He responds stiffly. He knows that voice, doesn’t he? From where?

“Oh, I’m sure you’d like these if you tried it. Two thousand dollars, retail.” He pauses to taste the smoke, probably. Cyrus can’t see him to tell, “Could I offer you a drink, then? What’s a man of your status’s drink of choice?” He humms in thought, gravely and low, and taps his fingers on a table (desk?) in front of him. It’s more for show than any actual thinking, “Louis XIII cognac? Chateau Cheval Blanc, 1947? Or maybe you go for something a bit pricier, hm? D’Amalfi Limoncello Supreme?”

“I’m not thirsty.” 

“I recommend the cognac, personally. It’s a celebration, after all.”

The hair raises on the back of Cyrus’s neck, “A celebration of what?”

“My victory, of course.” He laughs like that was a silly question, “I won.”

Swallowing thickly, Cyrus tries again to wiggle his wrists out from his bindings. “The ninja-”

“-are gone.” The man responds and Cyrus freezes. The voice was no longer across the room, but right in front of him. He’d move silently across the floor, crouching down to speak directly to Cyrus, “The ninja are gone. No one will be able to save you.”

He leans in, his breath hot on the shell of Cyrus’s ear, “I suggest you have a glass, Cyrus. It will be the last drink you ever have.” He promises.

Cyrus jerks back and slams his head forward before he can think about it. There’s a sharp crack and something warm and wet splatters on his cheek. The man swears loudly and he can hear him stumble away.

“You son of a-” He snarls, smooth confidence immediately bleeding into red hot rage.

“That- ow- Well, that hurts.” Cyrus winced, head pounding.

“I am going to enjoy destroying you!” His voice is thick with hatred.

Cyrus doesn’t know what to think. Who are you?

His wheelchair is kicked roughly and he tips over. He falls hard and he could have braced himself and been just fine if not for the edge of a coffee table sitting perfectly at concussion height.

The world turns black.

[ask-ii-secretphantoms-au]

Trophy and Balloon, do you have any regrets?

Trophy: Not killing Knife first

Balloon: I wish I believed Suitcase, and I wish I was kinder to her. I think I should have approached her panic differently, instead of dismissing her and forcing her to bed

[owlsnesttree]

Dead but not

The idea about what happens after death is something that is up for discussion quite often, but in stories, you either die, or you don't.

But imagine you have a character who has something that keeps them alive, but also that something will turn them into something chthonic because that power holds on so tightly that it keeps that person alive.

Imagine a character injured on the battle field, badly injured and they start this horrific transformation that ends with their heart stopping and their body no longer their's. They are trapped in a state of suspended animation and their weakness is hard to come by due to the power scaling that puts them into a different bracket.

Imagine a character having to sacrifice themself to get the changed character back and nearly dying/ dead from doing so.

[drinkinboilingcoffee]

Serious FNAF movie thing again, hear me out: individual movie for each Afton WITH completely unique cinematography styles and framing based on the characters POVs. Examples (incoherent drabble warning):

-Michael: Mike’s movie would be the most traditional. It would have a classic slasher horror kind of vibe (maybe a bit more character centric); gore, creepy music, jumpscares, etc. Until it’s just… not. When the most horrific scenes happen (Bite of 83, scooper, finding out William is the killer, etc.), the music goes silent. The framing gets more jittery and broken. In the moments where it hits Mike hardest, the idea that he can pretend this is all a game or joke or his imagination vanishes and the world becomes as realistic as possible. -Evan/CC: The important thing about Evan’s POV is blurring how much is real and how much is his imagination. A multi-media effect would look amazing; imagine when he looks at his toys and the animatronics, they’re covered over by cartoonified drawings or claymation. The world itself could maybe distort more when he’s scared- look at artist like Jack Stauber for inspiration for the sorts of styles that look like they should be cute but turn out creepy instead (actually, if we could get Jack to voice act the dolls-) -Charlie & Henry: If these two had a movie I think it should be a conjoined one for a few reasons. For one, one of the bigger complaints people have about both characters is that their characters and arcs end up being nothing but projections of the other, that their characters are too dependent on each other. But what if we actually leaned into that? I’m kind of thinking Wes Anderson style symmetry in the shots- put the two side by side as much as possible until it becomes a signature. Then break that. Once Charlie dies, have Henry keep standing to his side in the shots, only Charlie is no longer there to fill hers. Maybe even do some reprises of the shots and songs with the Puppet in Charlie’s place. -Elizabeth: Elizabeth’s filming is unique in that it doesn’t use any filming techniques to look more frightening. It uses them to look less. The thing about Elizabeth is that I don’t think she’d ever admit or acknowledge how messed up everything is until it was too late. She tries as hard as she can to make her situation seem perfect and that spills over into her perception of reality. The lighting is bright, the colors are vivid, the music is calming. This almost never changes. Not when she’s being abused by William, not when Evan gets chomped, not at Charlies funeral, never. Whatever triumphant track plays when she finally gets to see CB? It keeps playing when she gets scooped by her, not fully cutting off until even after the screen goes dark. Maybe use lighting and focus tricks to make things seem hazy or like they’re in a dream, then if at some point Liz actually has a breakdown and the gravity of everything finally hits her, the world becomes entirely clear for the first time. -William: The best way I can think to describe this film is dissociated. The colors should be monochrome and diluted, the lighting hazy, any music used in a way that gives the distinct feeling it only exists in the scene’s background. Only a few objects (and people), the ones that fill William’s attention, should have their colors normal (the animatronics, remnant, Elizabeth, Henry (definitely Henry), etc.). Maybe when William is in the suit and in character as Bonnie, the background and music become more clear? If I had to give one piece of media to draw inspiration from, look at Joker. The camerawork should also be jittery, and if we could bring in the blood-hits-the-camera effect, that would look perfect.

ABSOLUTELY reblog with additional ideas I want to know if there’s any other serious fnaf movie angst stans out there

[vvenussir]

I will protect you too [CONTAINS SPOILERS]

By Venussir

Cross posted onto AO3

SPOILERS FOR END GAME METAPHOR; IT TAKES AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE GAME!!!

Synopsis :

Sneaking out of the palace is a norm for the king. One faithful day he meets a young eldan girl in the city. They have a nice conversation.

------------------------------------------

It was a practiced act. Giving a guard or two the slip, narrowly avoiding Hulkenberg's stem gaze, and making his way into the heart of Grand Trad. The king made an almost daily trip into the city.

No longer was he, his Majesty the king, he was just Will. People are less honest when they are speaking to the king about their issues. As Will however, they are free to say whatever they want. Now outside of the palace, and away from his usual entourage. He was now free to explore the city streets and it's people.

Now riding his sword across the streets, listening to his citizens discuss their daily happenings or the kings policies, reputation, and actions. Occasionally he would hear the words of a Louis supporter, or the cruel words against the Eldan Tribe. Such ideals do not fade in a single year it seems.

Sheathing his sword, Will arrived to the market. Cooking has become a thing he greatly enjoys. He first started to learn to cook through his teammates' recipes. Once he was more confident in his skills he vegan to create some of his own. Now cooking has became thing he enjoys as much as he does reading.

Sure, he could ask for anyone in the palace to grab him the ingredients he needed. Hell, even Hulkenberg would go shopping for him if he asked. However, searching for the freshest ingredients, and greeting the stall owners is an experience he couldn't pass up for convenience.

Now with his bag full of fresh produce and herbs the king moved on with his routine. As Will reached for his sword he felt a small tug on his pant leg, the opposite side that held his trusty sword. Looking to his left he spots a young girl with a small fist on his leg.

Dark almost Maroon tightly curled hair pulled into to high ponytails, gray eyes, and dark tan skin. No wings, horns, or big ears. Not even a third eye. She had no distinct features. She was an Elda through and through.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you the king?"

The king looked at the child in no small amount of shock. This was the first he has met an Elda since he had left the Sanctum to become king, since.. Louis. Will watched her eyes as they lit up in a similar revelation as him. A smile that he could only compare to the warmth of Maria's beamed to him from the child.

Will went onto one knee in front of her, getting to her level. Now looking the young eldan girl in the eye, it all but confirmed she was in fact Elda. The first he has met in the capital city.

"Yes, I am. What brings you here?"

The girls eyes averted from him. The once excited look in her eyes changed in the flash of the light. The girl was now playing with the hem of her shirt, looking down to the cloth as she played with it. Will watched her movements, observing how quickly she had become timid.

"Where are your parents?" He asked the young Elda, only to get no response. Her eyes only went to the ground at her feet. He knew that look.

Will let out a small huff of air as he thought of what to do. Perhaps she wanted to ask him something and felt intimidated? Perhaps she was shy? Nevertheless it was the king's duty to help anyone in need. If she had come to ask him herself for something, he is obliged to help her.

"Would you like to eat something, my friend?"

She gave him a small nod, she crossed her arms; as if realizing how hungry she was in that moment. Will gave her a small smile before standing up, and reaching his hand out. Offering to guide her. Her grey eyes met the silverish blue hues of the king. The young girl hesitated before placing her hand into his gloved one.

"You can trust me." He said in a soft tone. One benefiting of a king.

Together the two Elda walked through the market to stairs that led to Sunshade row. As the two walked on the girl stayed class to the king the entire journey. If any person got too close to her she would move closer to Will. It was cute, but he pitied that she had any reason to fear people.

Soon they reached the end of the street. It was a dead end. There was a well decorated sign that read "The hushed honey bee inn." There was decorative honey combs, a fake bee, and four portraits. It was just the head of a paripus woman, a young girl, an older man, and a boy that looked similar to the king. Before she could ask any questions they were walking through the front door of the inn.

Inside there were plenty of people inside even during the daylight hours. Notably there was a Paripus woman at the counter, and a young Ishkia girl whom was chatting with the woman. When the pair at the counter noticed the two who just walked in, both of the girls smiled brightly.

"Nice to see you again."

"Mister! You're back!"

They said at the save time.

"Maria," the girl next to the king observed the two. Noticing the joy the king had as he greeted the girl. "It's great to see you." The young girl, now known to the young elda, Maria looks over to her. Before she could ask any questions the king spoke again.

"I am craving some roasted Bidou. Would you help Fabienne make some?" Maria lit up and nodded. Her smile so bright it could light up the night sky. The girl swiftly made her way over to the older woman and the two walked into the kitchen.

Now the two were sitting at a table. The young Elda girl fidgeting with the hem of her shirt again as the king observed her actions. His mind went through many scenarios as to why she was in the city, alone too. Does she have family? She must, the burning of the Sanctum was when he was about her age, so clearly the girl must have been an infant when it happened. Will couldn't start there though, he needed to start simple.

"What's your name?"

"Erris."

That's good they have made ground. Not to mention she has now spoken for the first since she had asked if he was the king. He gave her a small smile, which by her body language made her feel a bit better. Her grey eyes no longer fixated on the hem of her shirt, and now on the table.

"Do you like Grand Trad so far?" A simple question, a good place to start before getting to the stuff that could make her shy again.

"It's big.. and loud." Erris trailed between her words, as if not really knowing what to say. "Way more people than the country side." He nodded to her words.

"I know what that's like. When I first arrived in the Grand Trad I was shocked by all of the people as well." He reminisced how Gallaca had lectured him for not knowing any street smarts. At the time he was too nervous to explore, and wanted to head straight for the recruitment center.

"Was it scary?" Erris asked, this time she was looking at him. She is getting more comfortable.

"It was at first. When I arrived the city was very different to how it is today. There was more crime. However I had someone guide me, and soon it didn't become so scary." Her eyes watched him as he spoke, the subtle movements he made with his hands, and eyes. Like she was fully entranced in every word.

"Even as an Elda?"

Ah.

"Erris, why are you in the city?"

She glanced away for a second. Unlike before where she looked away from him entirely. This time it was a flick of the eye, she was thinking. A solid second hanged in the air before she looked at the older Elda in front of her.

"When news came of the new king being Elda, I got so excited. Someone like me." A grin formed on her lips. Her eyes on her hands as she spoke, still not fully confident to look him in tht eyes. "There were tales of your journey to become king. I heard of how the friends that helped you rise to the throne became the six partisans."

"My favorite is miss Hulkenberg. She is so strong, and cool." Her eyes lit up as she talked to him now. Now looking at him with a wide smile, one that couldn't stop him from smiling. "I wanna be like miss Hulkenberg. I want to be strong like her, and if our king is Elda, what is to stop me from being a guard like her?"

The smile on Will's face couldn't go away as she spoke so excitedly about her role model. He had never quite thought about it before, but it all but makes sense a young girl like Erris would look up Hulkenberg.

"That's a wonderful dream, Erris." His response only caused her grin to grow wider. The excitement in her body could probably fuel a gauntlet runner. As much as he would love to indulge her dreams, he wondered where her family was.

"If I may ask, where is your family?"

The girls expression fell a bit, however she didn't feel as nervous as before. The young elda's head filled with thoughts as she considered how to respond to the king's question. He seemed as kind as the tales say, so it must be alright to tell him the truth.

"I do not know about my father. However, my mother died not long ago to illness. She got sick on our travels to the city." She was an orphan too. Though he must say he is impressed that she had gotten to Grand Trad by herself, it must have been a distance if she had to leave behind her mother. He could only nod.

Before he could respond their food arrived. The girl looked at it with delight. It is clear to him now that she hasn't eaten well in probably days. Erris's eyes lit up in joy as she ate the Bidou. He was slower with his meal but the girl in front of him couldn't get enough of it. Maria watched from the counter, the act that her friend was enjoying the food was enough for her.

Unfortunately their fun and joy was ended by a certain red-haired roussainte. He could tell his trusted royal guard had entered by the clanking of the armor and the sigh of annoyance she made as she entered the building. "Your majesty. What I have I told you about leaving the palace alone?"

The king turned to his companion with a knowing smile. Oh how have the stars aligned for the young Erris. The frustrated expression of the guard captain did not falter however. Hulkenberg has come to collect the king numerous times at this point. Most of time she had found him right here, so it hasn't become too complicated to find Will. However it frustrates her how little he listens to her. A wall good listen to her better than the king.

"I was just aquiring some fresh produce when I met her." He gestured to the young girl, "Who happens to be your biggest fan."

The annoyed expression on her face instantly fell at his words. Her once stern gaze now on the young elda looking up to the roussainte with wide eyes. One would think her eyes were ready to pop out of her head how excited she looked.

Now it was Hulkenberg's turn to look timid. Sure she had met some people who admired her, but they are all in the military, or in military adjacent positions. Never a young girl, let alone a child. She mus'nt even be older then the his Majesty the night he was attacked all those years ago. The only thing that managed to come out of her mouth was: "Wha-What?"

The woman was truly taken off guard. She was used to having to track down and drag back the king. However, a child admiring her? Out of the question. Turning her gaze back to her old traveling companion he was smiling at her with an all knowing grin. With the Royal guard captain thoroughly shocked, he slide over on the bench and patted the spot next to him. Offering Hulkenberg to talk to the girl.

"Is it really you, miss Hulkenberg? I am a big fan!" Erris spoke enthusiastically as the roussainte sat down across from her. The woman took a glance to the king who gestured her to speak up.

"Tis' I Eiselin Burchelli Meijal Hulkenberg. And your name?"

"Erris! And I want to be like you someday Miss."

Since she has met this child, the kid hasn't stopped causing her brain to pause. The king only looked on in amusement as the woman he had known to only break down her barriers for food, be so calm.

"I am not sure what is there to admire, Erris. Tis' simply my duties as a knight."

With every word the kid did not move her eyes away for a single second. Erris was fully fixated on the knight in front of her. "Miss Hulkenberg, you are so strong, and cool. In all of the tales I had heard of your adventures with the king. I wanted to be you in the moments where you protected someone. Like the times you had protected the king from getting hurt, and drawing attention to yourself from the bad guys!"

"Oh oh! Also the time you helped the king vanquish a dragon. That's so cool!! I want to vanquish a dragon and save people like you."

Hulkenberg's normal serious expression was no where to be found, now it was one of solemn, and content. A soft smile was placed on her lips as she watched the child very expressivly talked about her. Admittedly she had never quite thought of how children would think of their journey.

"Well you see, I had started my training when I was about your age-" she was cut off by the excited voice of Erris.

"I know! That's why I wanted to come to Grand Trad! When I told my mom I wanted to be like you, and after a bit of begging her. She agreed to let me come here to join the royal guard. Then she got sick on the road- but- I know she would have wanted me to live my dream."

Hulkenberg gave the king next to her a look. Which he returned with a nod. The child in front of them looked at the both of them, having calmed down from the initial excitement of meeting her hero.

"I admire both of you. I want to be like you. A hero."

The king could only smile at her words. Sure he had heard much praise as king, however hearing such from a child, and a fellow Elda at that. It made his chest feel warm. Hulkenberg felt similar, only she saw herself in the kid.

Truly she was conflicted. Should she allow this child to go on a similar path as her? The road to become a knight is not an easy one to trek. The girl probably has not faced an easy life considering she had traveled to the capital by herself.

Hulkenberg turned to the king, standing up from her seat at the table. The king watched as the knight had gained her composure. "Your majesty, we must return to the palace. It isn't safe to travel alone."

Will sighed at her words. He had hoped that maybe the child would let him gain some leeway from the woman. Alas it did not seem to work. He stood up from the table and looked over to the child who was watching them curiosity.

He walked around the side of the table and got on one knee again to be on her level. She looked back, observing the smaller details of the king's face. "First I will find you a place to live, and you need a caretaker. Then after I am happy with your situation, we will discuss how you can become a knight."

A bright smile filled her face as the kid practically bounced on the bench in excitement. "Really, Mister King? I can?" She asked in pure joy, almost as if this moment wasn't real to her.

"Of course, and someday you might even be better than Hulkenberg here." There was an annoyed "Hey!" come from behind him, which he ignored.

"I can take her in for now." Fabienne spoke up as she walked over to the small group of people, Maria on her heel. "I am sure Maria would like a friend." The mentioned girl nodding the words.

"Is that alright?" The king asked as he stood up straight. In which the inn owner nodded in confirmation. "Well if Fabienne is taking care of you, I wouldn't need to worry at all."

Erris looked at the two a bit nervously. She had not really spooked to the two, and yet the Paripus woman was willing to help her out? She was supposed to trust the king though, so if he trusts them she must too.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Now, we must go your majesty." Hulkenberg spoke up. In which the king rolled his eyes while looking at Erris, causing her to giggle in response.

" 'Tis a pleasure meeting you Erris. Till we meet again." Hulkenberg spoke up, a soft smile on her lips as she observed the kid.

"Someday I will protect you too, your majesty." The young elda said as she pretended to hold up a shield. Causing the king to smile at her antics. He placed a hand of her head and ruffled her hair.

"I will be counting on you then."

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Monster? I Hardly Know Her!

The Pearce Joza obsession lives on im afraid 😔

ao3

Prompt: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Fandom: Mech-X4

Characters: Spyder, Harris, and Veracity

Summary: Spyder wakes up, delirious and injured after a monster attack. Harris plays severely unqualified nurse.

Trigger Warnings: injury, mentioned vomit, mentioned death

809 words

Something was screeching. High pitched and whiny, kinda reminding him of a school bell… was he at school right now? No, that didn’t sound right. If not there, then where was he?

He groaned, blinking his eyes open. The screeching didn’t go away. In fact, it only somehow got even worse. He couldn’t see that well, vision all… blurred. Did he normally wear glasses? He couldn’t remember. He was pretty sure he didn’t, but then why else would his eyes be so… messed up?

A dark shape loomed over him. His first thought: dad? His second: please not dad.

The screeching (which he was now beginning to realize was just a ringing in his ears) was polite enough to quiet down some. A win was a win.

“Spyder?” the shape called, sounding like it had come from underwater. Or maybe he was underwater… he really couldn’t tell. “Can you hear me?”

“Harris?” he attempted, throat so scratchy it was painful. He coughed, his lungs burning at the action. “Wh’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, thank god. You took a real bad hit… or, a couple, more accurately. Do you remember the fight?”

His brain felt like it was full of soup, so… probably not. Was that why everything sounded so far away? “Did I win?” he croaked, squinting at the Harris-shaped blob.

“You were sort of… unconscious for most of it. Veracity had to hop on weapons, it was… quite the experience. But yeah, we won.”

He moved to sit up, immediately regretting the attempt. His body curled in on itself on pure instinct, raw pain sprouting in his chest like a… plant or something. 

“Oh, shit, yeah, don’t move!” Harris said, words stumbling over themselves. “We still need to check you out. Leo went to get some supplies… um, on a scale of one to ten, how are you feeling?”

“Mmm, ‘ve had worse,” he slurred. “‘nt hear good…”

“You can’t hear good?” Harris clarified, getting a low groan in response. “Okay, okay, I’ll forgive the grammar this one time on that. Uhhh… how many fingers am I holding up?”

Spyder squinted at the shape of his friend, trying to focus on his where his hands probably were. “Mmm… twelve?” he guessed.

“Yeah, that’s… definitely not right. I’m gonna need to scan you, hold still, okay?”

It wasn’t like he had much choice. If he moved, he was half convinced he’d disintegrate on the spot. God, everything hurt. He’d been knocked around plenty in his life, and he’d definitely had worse, but jesus. It was like his insides were on fire.

But he couldn’t stay down. He couldn’t afford to be dead weight on the team, not even for a minute. Not when he was constantly teetering on the edge of their collective patience. Not after the day Harris had been infected with ooze, had screamed at him that he was always in the way. 

He needed to show them that he wasn’t just the useless fool who didn’t add anything to the team other than plain annoyance. Quickly. Before they realized that it really was all he was and kicked him to the curb. 

“Wh—stop trying to get up!” Harris ordered, pushing him back down. Spyder’s head spun violently, and he had to give himself a moment to swallow down a bit of puke. 

“I’m good,” he hissed through his teeth, doing his best to filter the pain out of his voice. “All good. We’re good.” He still couldn’t actually focus his eyes enough to see the expression on his friend/severely unqualified doctor’s face. 

“I will strap you down, I swear,” he insisted, obviously annoyed. 

“Kinky,” came the unexpected voice of Veracity from somewhere near the door. 

“Wh-that’s not what I — no!” Harris stammered. Spyder wished he could see how red he probably was. He bet it’d be cute. Harris always somehow was.

“Relax, dumbass,” she said with a half-laugh. “Anyway, how are you feeling, kid?” She asked, her voice closer, now. 

“Mmm…” he managed, re-assessing his body to check for pain. To his faint surprise, though it was still definitely there, it felt so… detached from him, now. He felt like he was dreaming. “I think ‘m dying.”

“What?” they both cried in deeply concerned unison. 

Spyder grinned in what he assumed was Harris’s direction. “Cause you look like an angel.”

“I hate gay people,” Veracity mumbled under her breath. 

“I assume,” he continued, “'cause I can’t actually like… see you.”

“That’s… a problem. What can you see?”

“Shapes’n colors,” he slurred, giggling slightly. His head felt like it was going to explode. To be perfectly honest, that did sound pretty sick, though. Not as sick considering it hurt like a bitch. “G’nigh… sweet prince…” he mumbled, hoping his friends would still be there when he woke up again. 

They probably wouldn’t be, but he could dream.

[yusuke-of-valla]

throw away your mask (and then what's left?)

Or:

Ren: My girlfriend took my other girlfriend in the divorce

AO3

Despite it supposedly being nearly spring, Ren’s cold when he gets back to Leblanc. When he’s there, Sojiro is nowhere to be seen, and Haru and Kasumi are sitting in a booth together, holding coffees.

“Oh? Is it just going to be all three of us tonight?” Ren asks. “Am I going to beat the cold with some curry and cuddling with my two lovely girlfriends?”

Instantly he knows something is wrong. Haru’s face is completely neutral, and Kasumi won’t look him in the eyes.

“What? Too cheesy?” He asks, trying to break the tension that’s got the cafe in a vice grip.

“Do you remember when I told you about my nightmares about my father?” Haru asks.

“Yeah, ‘course. Did you have another one?”

“Something like that.”

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Ren asks.

“Haru-chan and I were talking,” Kasumi says, “about how, you know, growing up I used to think it would be so much better if my sister wasn’t around.” She chuckles. “Awful, right?”

“I don’t think that’s–”

“I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her, I just thought if I could match someone without being a matched set, people wouldn’t decide they wanted her all the time instead of me. Guess they were right to be disappointed with me, since apparently I'm the stupid one, since even my boyfriend prefers her over me, and he’s never even met her!”

“Kasumi–” 

“My name is Sumire,” she snaps. 

Huh. It’s been so long since aren't experienced genuine dread he doesn’t immediately recognize the twisting sensation in his stomach.

Haru’s glaring daggers at him too.

“How’d you find out?” He asks.

“We all thought something was wrong,” Haru says. “We talked it out, then we remembered. Then Akechi told us about the deal. We wanted to hear it out of your mouth.”

“...is it really so bad living in Maruki’s reality?” Ren asks. “I mean, Sumi, you got what you wanted anyway.”

“You will call me Sumire,” she says. “And you were there when I changed my mind and wanted to live as myself.”

“Did you really? Or did you just think you had to?” Ren says. “Maybe we were wrong! Society’s always telling us that we have to suffer to learn lessons, that it’s the proper way to do things, but that’s bullshit! Haru it wasn’t fair that your father died, he was just collateral damage of someone else’s scheme! And Sumire you killed your sister! Do you really want to live with that?”

Sumire flinches, and Haru puts a hand over hers. 

“No one wants to live with pain, Ren,” Haru says. “But it’s preferable to this.“

“Why? Is that fair to everyone else in Tokyo? Or the people who were brought back, they’re the same as if they never died, you’d just be killing them again!” 

“I’ve already lived my life under the control of my father, I don’t want anyone else to have the power to decide what’s going to make me happy but me,”

“Maruki is not your dad,” Ren says, “he’s a good person, he means well, he’s not—”

“WE’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT MARUKI!” Sumire shouts suddenly. “We’re not talking about him, or this reality, or if it’s fair to everyone else! We’re talking about the fact that you made this decision without talking to us!”

Haru nods. “We already rejected this reality, and without consulting us you tossed us back in and made us forget that anything was wrong. And I know you think Maruki means well, and he probably thinks he means well, but how well-meaning can he be if he opted to continue condemning Sumire-chan to play act as Kasumi instead of bring her back?!“ Haru adds, getting more and more worked up. “Oh but even then I’m reading too much into it, aren’t I? Well I’m not as stupid as you think I am. If you actually cared about us or any of the things you were talking about you would have discussed it with us before taking the deal or even brought it up throughout Maruki’s Palace but you didn’t because you agreed, all the way up until something that affected you personally came up right?”

Haru’s gripping her mug so tightly that Ren thinks it’s about to crack. “I’d yell at you for choosing my father’s murderer over me, but that’s not fair is it? Because Akechi is just as angry as I am, so you really didn’t choose him either? You chose yourself.”

“I mean, it fits, doesn’t it?” Sumire adds. “You did teach me to be more selfish, senpai, so I guess I’ll have to give you points for consistency! But you know, the thing is just because it’s alright to be selfish doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences.”

If Ren were in their shoes, he wouldn’t take a hollow apology, especially now that they’re so far gone.

“So what will you do now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sumire says, “we’re going to finish what we started. If you like it so much, we’ll see if there’s a way we can leave and you can stay here. We won’t force you to fight him if you really prefer… all this.”

“It won’t work,” Ren says. “It’s been too long, he’s too powerful now. You’ll die.”

“I’ve already died once resisting the will of a self-proclaimed god, I don’t mind doing it again,” Haru says. “Besides isn’t that the best outcome for you? He’ll kill us and bring us back with no memories and you can continue on like none of this ever happened.”

“Haru, I don’t want that!”

“Why not? Didn’t you just say the versions of dead people are exactly the same as they were in our reality beyond being alive? So you shouldn't have anything to worry about!”

“That’s not–”

“Is killing us and replacing us a step too far? You’ll let him wipe our memories after we poured our hearts out to you explaining why we wanted to go back, but that’s where you draw the line?”

“I–” Ren doesn’t know what to say. “I didn’t want any of you to suffer.”

“We were already suffering,” Sumire says. “God these past few months, I thought I was crazy. Feeling wrong, looking at myself in the mirror and thinking my face is different. The others have too. We all felt like we were forgetting something. But we didn't say anything because ‘Ren said it was probably fine, just finals anxiety. Obviously Ren wouldn’t lie. Obviously Ren cares about us.’ Can you really care about someone if you don’t trust them to decide what would make them happy? If you don’t listen to them when they say this isn't what they want?”

Ren’s silent. He usually has a million and one ideas for things to say, but now? Nothing.

“I don’t particularly care if someone promises they’ll wield that power well,” Haru says, “you’ve made it abundantly clear that one person can not be trusted to have control over the lives of everyone in Tokyo.” She gets up and hands Sumire her coat, all in one elegant motion.

“...you know what’s worst?” Haru asks as they reach the door. “Despite it all, I can’t truly wish harm on you.”

And they disappear into the cold.

[hannahhook7744]

Badun Detective Agency Random Headcanon number 1;

The B.D.A doesn't just document the dead and the missing.

They document the living too and have ever since they realized just how much they didn't know about the victims they were documenting.

Sometimes they just write down things they observe.

And others, people hand them the information.

They made a template (that i can make if anyone is interested) for it that is taped to their treehouse.

If you turn it in, they'll file it and never mention it to anyone.

It's not for blackmail but so nobody else on the isle is forgotten (because no one knows how many people may have already been forgotten by the time they were born or by the time they founded the agency).

It is also filed separately from the B.D.A missing person cases, death reports, Getting to know the dead files, pet files, and incident report files.

[megsiepoo]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48500776

Ao3 seems to be back? It worked long enough for me to get that fic posted, anyway.

Kind of just wanted to write something between Kallamar and the Lamb. Despite being a vain coward, I think Kallamar is still kind at heart. He's also my favorite so I might be biased. Potential Kallamar/Lamb ship also? Let me know if I should dig into it more.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and feedback appreciated as always!

[andywinter16]

Line Tag Game!

Hi there everyone! Thank you @blossom-adventures for tagging me in this :) Uhmm, I have like two fics that I occasionally work on. It´s more like snippet here or there. One is called Sigil bearer and the second one is called The good old days. I may tell you more about them later.

Once again whoever wants can join on this tag game. :) (I also won´t be using all the topics for the lines)

A line from your fic that… (ehmm, line just wasn´t sufficient XD)

Makes you laugh (I have actually two, that I want to share) :

"I can and will shoot you, traitor!" The tired look she gave him spoke for themselves. "And I will summon very grumpy and tired galadhian man, who will whoop your ass when he sees you are pointing your fucking gun at ally, who came here to help." The man hands shivered slightly when he was still pointing the weapon at her, not taking her treath seriously. The woman sighned.

"LIIBEERTUUUSS!"

--

"Oh sure thing! Captain is the papa, Luche is the mama, Crowe is that cool auntie." Crowe looked smugly at that. "Nyx, you and Pelna are the children." Tredd snickered towards them with his drink in hand. "Tredd? You are the dog, who will be castrated." "WHAAT!?"

(yeah, they were all so drunk)

Makes you sad:

" No, you can´t Akarilis! Because you´re not a fucking Ulric!" The venom was dripping off his words. "If he was there, then maybe we could have some chance! But no ..." He said darkly and looked her straight in the eyes. "We´ve got you, useless woman who can´t control it properly. It would be better if you died along everyone during the Treaty!"

Makes you want to punch a character:

In a split second Gilgamesh grabbed her by the neck. His grip was so strong that he began to suffocate her. "You're just a clown, sigil bearer. You´re not worthy to serve to a king. Give up to your despair child. Nobody will hear your cry of help." She tried to catch her breath, but to no avail. Strength of sigils rose within her, begging her to be used. Her vision started to be blurry and a single name escaped her lips. "Lu... che..."

Makes you go “aww” (I probably wouldn´t consider it aww moment .... but definitively softer encounter with those two) and You think could be better:

"What the ..." A jacket landed on her head covering the view of the city. "You will be useless in glaives if you get ill, little piggy." Said suddenly voice behind her, it was frightening that she didn´t her him at all. "Why do you care what will be with me, carrot head?" Tredd sat next to her on the ledge of the building, while Kalli gratefully wore the jacket. "Don´t read too much into it, Kingsglaive needs all the people it can get." He said matter of factly. "Even someone as you piggy." Tredd side eyed her. "If you came here just to insult me, then go away carrot. I know that I messed up a big time." A cold wind blew past them, and Kalli nuzzled more into the jacket for warmth. "Hah, you really did. But .... I kinda enjoyed it, never knew you would bite me." Kalli snorted at him and shaked her head. "You are one kinky mothafucker." It earned her honest laugh out of Tredd.

Is shocking:

A spirit emerges from the ring before the group. But it looked unusual like a beast. It wore tight leather armor adorned furs and strange symbols. The spirit was armed with kukris and clawed glowes.

" You are fucking shitting me!" Said Libertus towards the spirit which chuckled.

[sunset-peril]

Successors - Chapter Two - The Songbird Warrior

*One Year Later*

~~~

"Oh, Mama! It's trembling again!" A blue and pink Rito peeped as she called her mother to the egg-filled nest. "That's the second time this hour!" 

"But of course! It's been a year since you laid." A pink and brown bird raised her head from the hammock.

"Oh, what would Revali be saying now?"

"That you should not be such a worrywart, Khosha!" She flapped her wings wide. "A hatching egg shall tremble, and that is nothing to concern over." Her talons clicked on the floor. "Specially, he would say you are being asinine." She sighed. "But that is not of concern. He's been gone a year, Khosha, and it's time for your egg to hatch. Please do not live in the past, he isn't there either." 

But Khosha's focus did not turn to her egg, but to Hyrule Castle in the distance. "The closer we've gotten, Mama, the more I've thought about her."

"Oh. How so?"

She sighed loudly. "It's been a year, Mama… she should have already had her baby; a beautiful, healthy, golden baby." Khosha glanced backwards. "I don't even know if she got out of that dangerous place, much less delivered a child as healthy as her effort deserved." Her egg rolled back and forth in her talons. "I guess it doesn't seem fair that I only lost my husband, but she lost so much more: her home, kingdom, husband, and quite possibly her child."

"The dead do not wish for you to mourn over their uncertainties."

"Oh, she was so little, Mama… so so little…" She poured over the words like a serenade. "but she had an ancient soul." 

The older woman's beak curved up slightly. "She sounds lovely."

"Did you ever see her? She came to the village several times." 

"A few. None as well as the last. I saw her when she came by just before the Calamity." She cooed out a chuckle. "Oh, she was so little… but that stomach of hers… hmm, that was a sight to behold. I don't think her husband appreciated my amusement though. He gave me the ugliest look." She imitated Link's steely glare. 

"He was not in a good mood that day. He was upset she was traveling instead of resting, and she'd been hurting earlier that morning."

"He had a good heart in him. Part of what made him the incarnation of protective, my theory. Hylia always takes the best sooner than we hope." 

"I bet the Princess is still missing him painfully."

"If she even survived. She might be up there with him, reunited with her dear mother."

"Mama, I know she's alive. I saw her."

"Oh, and where?" 

"The Castle. I… needed some closure soon after the Calamity, and flew there. I saw her in the throne room, Mama, just the way I saw her last, sitting on the throne with a great red Lynel at her feet that was streaked in black and purple like Malice. She didn't look like she'd aged a day, nor did her baby seem a day closer to coming, but she was cloaked in holy light." 

"Then she does seem alive, and in no need of our concern in this very moment." Khosha's mother gestured towards the egg rattling beneath Khosha's right foot. "Someone both alive and in our world would like your attention."

Finally, Khosha lowered her head from the window to focus on the hatching egg. "Hello? Is there a little Rito in there?"

A startlingly familiar beak pierced through the shell, sending cracks throughout the remaining areas before retracting. After that, the egg stopped moving, causing the two women to lower their beaks in curiosity.

"It just… stopped, Mama."

The shell split apart like an explosion, scattering fragments and revealing a tiny Rito with its wings outstretched.

"Revali?"

…

"It's like the Champion had a chick with himself!" The Elder exclaimed upon further examination.

"I've never seen this outside of the Hylian Royal Family!" 

The chick had since dried off from his egg into a noisy little poofball. To the amazement of the entire tribe, he was almost an exact copy of Champion Revali, except for the teal tips of his wings where his father had white.  

"His name is Revali the Second." His mother declared, bringing him closer to her chest. 

"Ah, what a joyous day is this!" The elder hooted. "To be gifted once again with our Champion just a year after his passing!" 

While the tribe gathered in celebration, heading to the Flight Range, Khosha and her mother lingered at the nest.

"He will lead a burdened life, that is for sure. His father's silhouette lies before him, and the world will try and get him to match it instead of casting his own, even if it is similar." 

Revali the Second glanced up from his mother's wings. Peep! Peep! 

"It's so strange…" 

"Perhaps Hylia knew you needed him to stay with you, even though he had to go with her. That is what she did for Zelda, is it not?"

"Yes." She wandered out to Revali's Landing, looking out towards the Flight Range. "And we'll make our mark, won't we, Revali?" She held the baby to the sky, whispering 'Look at your son…' before fastening him into a restraint, clasping the Great Eagle Bow and taking off. As she neared the Range, she prepared three bomb arrows and shot them into some of the targets her husband left behind, then landed with the same degree and style of fanfare he always had. And when she opened her beak to welcome the tribe in a way that he would, she could have sworn it was his voice and not her own.

"Impressive, I know."

Edited - 04/14/2024