#SAVE ME OFF RESURGENCE

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

Y'ALL I KNOW YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT FNF BUT I DO AND I'VE ALWAYS HOPED THAT SOMEONE WOULD MAKE AN OFF MOD CAUSE ALL THESE OTHER OG HORROR RPG MAKER GAMES HAVE GOTTEN SHIT

BUT EVERY SINGLE TIME!!!!!!! I FIND ONE!!!!! IT'S JUST A CONCEPT, CANCELLED, OR UNFINISHED!!!!!!

LOOK AT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOK AT THIS FUCKING MASTERPIECE I FOUND!!!!!!!!!

IT IS 6AM I NEED TO GO TO BED BUT I AM LOSING MY MIND OVER THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!

THERE'S MULTIPLE OTHER TEASER VIDEOS POSTED AND THE OST IS ONLINE BUT I CAN'T FIND LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE. WHO'S MAKING IT??????? WHEN'S IT DROPPING???????? IS IT DROPPING??????? I NEED DETAILS

THE SAMPLING OF THE OG SONG USED TO MAKE PEPPER STEAK IN DESESPEREE?????????????

THE FROG NOISES AT THE END OF VENDEUR?????????

THE FACT THAT IT'S ALL IN FRENCH LIKE IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE??????

GIRL I AM DESPERATE PLEASE I NEED AN OFF RESURGENCE AND I FEEL LIKE THIS WOULD DO IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[atlabeth]

bleedin' me dry | luke castellan

runaway with luke ending here!!

summary: luke has a proposal. it doesn't go over well.

a/n: so um. obviously im a huge percy jackson stan ive got annabeth in my name and ive literally wanted to be her since i read the books in second grade and by virtue of being an annabeth stan i hate luke but i also think he is so interesting and so good for angst and i also love the pjo resurgence we’ve got going on here from the show!! so here you go. here's some angst

title from vampire by olivia rodrigo

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. luke is his own warning lmao. pushy and manipulative behavior, not the healthiest relationship! and no happy ending

“You know I love the forest,” you mused, “but you have to have a reason for bringing me out here.”

He gave you a wry smile as he squeezed your hand. “Do I have to have a reason? You said you love it—that’s gotta be reason enough.”

“I love it, but there are monsters here.” You twisted your free hand and flowers sprouted up a few feet away. “It does give me a chance to show off, though.”

You were in your cabin helping Katie clean up everything—it was the last day of summer and most of the Demeter kids had already left—when Luke knocked on the door and asked you to accompany him on “a little adventure”. Despite the teasing of your siblings, you bashfully accepted.

It wasn’t the smartest thing, admittedly, to find yourself in the forest with your boyfriend with a couple hours ‘til curfew when you still weren’t even sure if you were leaving or not, but you had your dagger. Luke didn’t have his sword, but you had been practicing.

It wasn’t like it really mattered, anyways—he probably just wanted to make out with you. It was far from the first time, and for all he knew you were leaving for the school year in a few hours.

He chuckled but didn’t say anything. You looked up at him, a slight frown creasing your brows, and nudged him with your shoulder.

“Is everything okay, Luke?” you asked. “You’ve been… oddly quiet.”

Again, it took him a moment to respond before he just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking, I guess.”

“About what?”

“Life,” he said. “Our lives.”

“Very philosophical for the hour,” you said dryly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away.”

“Have you ever thought about leaving?”

“I’m still deciding whether I want to go back home for school or not, but—”

“Not after the summer,” Luke interrupted. “Leaving camp. For good.”

You frowned, a chill running down your spine. “Of course not. Camp Halfblood saved my life, Luke. I could never leave.”

“Says who?” Luke stopped and your intertwined hands pulled you back, stopping you as well.

“Says all the monsters that tried to kill me last time I went home,” you said slowly. “Don’t tell me you forgot the dracaena that nearly got me on that field trip.”

“‘Course I didn’t forget,” he said, inclining his head. “I just think you’re good enough now to make it without this place.”

“Luke,” you said with a strained laugh, “you— you can’t be serious.”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because if we leave, we’ll die,” you said slowly. “I barely made it on my own out there.”

“You’re more powerful now. And you won’t be on your own,” he said, tugging you closer. Despite it all, warmth bloomed in your chest. “I can protect you.”

“Luke…” You trailed off as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to his.

“What’s the point of staying here?” Luke murmured, an unmistakable softness in his eyes. “Just so we can sit around at summer camp for the rest of our lives? I mean, it’s not like that’s gonna be much longer, the way Chiron tells it.”

“I ha— we have friends here,” you said, huffing another laugh as you took a step back from him. It was easier to think when he wasn’t touching you, when you were still able to sever the string connecting the two of you. “We have a life here. A safe life, Luke, where we don’t have to look over our shoulders constantly.”

“Not me.” Luke shook his head as he moved a step forward in tandem, and he took your hand again, his grip tighter this time. “You’re the only thing I’ve got keeping me here.”

“Please,” you said in disbelief. “You’ve got a whole cabin of siblings that adore you. You’re the best swordfighter here. I’m pretty sure even Mr. D has a soft spot for you.”

“Please,” he mocked, “you can’t seriously believe that.”

You shrugged. “All I know is that when you finally asked me out, I gained a whole lot of enemies.”

“Like that means anything,” Luke said.

“The kids love you too!” you exclaimed. “Their eyes light up with stars whenever you help them with their sparring. You’re a beacon of light to this place— where is all of this coming from?”

“I’m tired,” Luke said roughly. “Tired of the gods ignoring us when all they’ve caused is pain.”

You frowned, but he continued on.

“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed it?” he asked. “When’s the last time you ever saw my dad give me any kind of attention besides some fun-colored smoke? He ruined my mother’s life— he ruined my life! And our cabin is damn near overflowing with unclaimed kids. Where are their parents?

“Luke—”

He shook his head as he forged on. “And you can’t say that Demeter is any good either. I bet she makes your cereal tastes real good in the morning, but she’s abandoned you for your whole life.”

“Luke, where is this coming from?” you asked, your frown deepening further and further as you let go of his hand and took a step back. “You— you know I’m not a fan of them, but you can’t just go around saying things like this. The last thing I need is for my mother to— to smite me, or strangle me with vines or something because I’m not appreciating her enough.”

Luke huffed a laugh. “That would be the most attention she’s paid to you since she claimed you.”

“She’s a goddess,” you said. “She’s got more important things to do than send me emails asking how my day is going.”

“Really?” Luke asked, his eyebrows rising.

“Yes, really,” you enunciated. “I expect it. I consider myself lucky she claimed me at all.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” he marveled as he said your name. “Your mother has never been there for you, and you think you’re lucky?”

“Luke—” you started, but you couldn’t even finish as he continued on.

“Demeter wasn’t there for the year you spent feeling like the scum of the Earth because you hadn’t been claimed yet. Demeter wasn’t there for the childhood she gifted to you then abandoned you for.” He pushed forward still. “Demeter wasn’t there for all those sleepless nights you spent in the Hermes cabin wondering if you were ever going to know who got you into this mess.”

“Luke, stop,” you finally managed to get out, moving back in turn.

“You know who was?” He continued to forge on, capturing your wrist when you tried to take another step back, eliciting a shaky exhale as you flinched. “Me.”

You ripped your arm away from him, fire in your eyes and blazing in your blood. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

“I’ve been here for you since the moment you stepped foot into Cabin Eleven!” Luke’s voice rose, and you’d never been more aware of the dagger hanging off your belt. “Through every tear, every tirade, every godsdamned rant about the gods—”

You stumbled back, and your heart stuttered in your chest as your back hit a tree. Your jaw was clenched, attempting to stop your tremors trying to wrack your body.

“And you’re telling me,” his voice suddenly lowered until it was scarily soft, little more than a whisper as he leaned over you, noses nearly touching, “that you would still choose them over me?”

“If you do not get away from me right now,” you said, quiet and even, “what we have, and anything we could have, will be over.”

Luke didn’t move. “Answer me.”

For a moment, it was just that—you and Luke staring at each other. His chest rising and falling just so from the effort of yelling, his beautiful eyes devoid of any previous softness. You thought your teeth might crack with the pressure in your jaw.

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t choose them over you.”

And for an even shorter moment, his eyes do soften.

“But I won’t leave my family,” you whispered. “Not for whatever cause you think you’re fighting for.”

And just like that, the armor went up again.

“So that’s the way this ends,” Luke said evenly, and when he moved a few steps back, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“You know who I am,” you argued, though you couldn’t make yourself move. “My siblings are my family— my friends are my family. I’d never leave them.”

“Oh, I should have expected it,” he said offhandedly. His laughter was a cruel thing. “I always knew you were a coward.”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” you spat. “Why do you even want to leave in the first place?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit that goes on here!” Luke yelled. “We’ve been here for years, and what the hell do we have to show for it? A couple scars? A lot of near death experiences? Some deadbeat parents that ruined our damned lives?”

“I have a family that I never could’ve dreamed of!” you exclaimed. “I have sisters and brothers that love me, friends that understand me, and—”

Your voice broke for a moment and you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the tears back. Some of the fire burning through your veins had been extinguished as you continued.

“And I thought I had a boyfriend that was there for me.”

It was there again—his eyes softening ever so slightly when he looked at you. But then he clenched his jaw. “And I thought I had a girlfriend that was there for me.”

“I won’t leave,” you enunciated. “I’m not going to help you with whatever crusade you think you’re meant to lead against the gods!”

“You don’t understand,” he insisted.

“You don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “You’re ready to leave all of this behind, and for what?”

“I don’t want to leave it all behind,” he said. “I want you by my side. We could be something truly great together— can’t you see?”

Luke took your hand again and pulled you away from the tree, gesturing with his hand around you. “You can control all of this. The whole world is your domain—we’d be untouchable.”

“Luke, you sound crazy,” you said roughly. “Where is all of this coming from, seriously?”

“I just know that we can live a better life,” he said. “Together, without the gods.”

“Witho—” You couldn’t even manage to finish the word, shaking your head at the pure absurdity of it. You hardly recognized your boyfriend purely because of the insanity he was spouting. “Luke, we don’t need to leave! We don’t need to stand against the gods, or— or whatever this is!”

This time, you took his hand as you tried to smile. “We can make this work, Luke, and we can make it work here,” you begged. “I promise.”

“Things need to change,” he said, voice steely, pulling his hand away. “And they’re clearly not going to change here.”

“Yes, they can,” you insisted, your hands clenching into fists at your side. “I want things to change too, believe me! But going off on your own isn’t going to do anything for it. We can start it here—together.”

His eyes were colder than ever as he looked down on you, and you truly didn’t recognize him. The glint in his eye and edges you would cut yourself on and the insanity he was spouting for no damn reason. You didn’t know what in Hades’ name had gotten into him.

“All we do is sit around and wait for that hag in the attic to spout prophecies, and then Chiron sends some kids off to die, and then we sit around and wait to do it again,” Luke said. “The gods keep making kids and the kids keep dying because they leave them in the world alone— we’re practically grandparents here because we’re lucky to make it past sixteen! The gods don’t do a damn thing about it, and neither does Chiron.”

He shook his head as he stared right into your eyes. “You’re not as smart as I thought if you think you can change anything here.”

“So— so what?” you asked brazenly. “You’re just gonna leave?”

Luke shrugged. “I was always gonna leave. It just depended whether you were with me or not.”

He turned around and started walking, and for a moment you were fully dumbstruck, unable to move. Then something snapped inside of you, and you moved your hands straight up through the air. Vines sprouted from the ground and tangled around Luke’s legs, stopping him and nearly causing him to fall.

“You don’t just get to walk away from me after spouting this bullshit,” you fumed as you ran to catch up with him. “What in Demeter’s name has gotten into you, Luke? Gods— this isn’t you!”

“See?” Luke smiled, ignoring your question. “You are powerful.”

“Answer me,” you seethed.

He shrugged, that small smile still on his lips. “It’s always been me. Maybe you’ve just been too stupid to realize.”

“Where are you going to go?” you asked, ignoring his jab. “Not home, clearly.”

It was a deep cut, something you never would have said under normal circumstances, but his expression didn’t change.

“I’ve got plans,” he said, ignoring your jab, and he huffed a laugh. “And I guess they don’t involve you anymore.”

All you could do was stand there, stunned as you stared at him. It was cliche, but it really wasn’t him, because you loved Luke and he loved you.

He’d always been a bit spitfire, always a little sharp around the edges, but you loved that about him—and he softened those edges for you. He was strong-willed and caring and passionate about everything, and you didn’t want to lose him. Not like this.

You knew what he’d been through. You knew what happened to his mother, what happened to Thalia, everyone he’d lost and every reason for every scar. But you never thought—

Gods. You never thought he’d actually do… this.

“Let me go, will ya?” Luke asked, tilting his head. “Or else what we have will be over— or whatever it was you said back there.”

The vines receded against your will, like his words just connected to your subconscious. You stayed rooted in place as he continued walking away.

But then he stopped. Turned around, looked right at you.

And for a moment you were fourteen again, feeling alone and forgotten going into your third month in the Hermes cabin. Grumbling your way through sword practice because the excited camp counselor who just happened to be your age refused to let you sulk for another day.

It was days after your fifteenth birthday, and the golden sickle with sheaths of wheat had finally appeared over your head at lunch. Luke had lunged at you, wrapping you in the tightest hug possible, and looked at you with all the stars in your eyes as he congratulated you. He helped you move your meager belongings into the Demeter cabin the very next day.

It was the first time you decided to go home since arriving at camp, and Luke was sidled outside your door, making wry comments every so often as he kept you company while you packed.

It was him kissing you right before you went over the hill because he said he couldn’t keep his feelings in any longer. It was you kissing him right back wondering why he waited so damn long.

It was three years of the best thing you’d ever experienced, of the most steadfast companion you could’ve had by your side—three years of Luke Castellan’s love.

Then you blinked, and you were back in the woods. Luke’s expression had softened, but the brimming tears in your eyes blurred your vision.

“I really did love you, y’know,” Luke finally murmured. “But you should know that love isn’t ever enough.”

He was out of your view before you could even muster the strength to move again, and then you were running through the forest faster than ever before.

But when you reached Cabin Eleven, there was no sign of him. And when you checked the pavilion and the forge and the amphitheater and the training arena and every other godsdamned place, you were just as disappointed.

But by the time you got to Chiron and found out the chaos that had spouted in his wake, that he had wanted you to be a part of, it was much, much too late.

Percy Jackson was fighting for his life. Camp had been left in complete disarray. Luke was working for Kronos.

And the man you loved was truly gone.

[highladyandromeda]

Shadows of the Heart

Part 1

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions. 

Warnings: mentions of blood, but nothing particularly graphic

WC: 1k

[Prologue]

Three days drifted by before Mor finally stirred from her deep slumber, her body frail and still reeling from the mutated faebane she had ingested. Though she nearly fainted again once she saw Y/n across from her, surrounded by an amalgamation of healing salves and blood-soaked bandages. Rhys, looking haggard from days of ceaseless worry, was by her side in an instant, having anchored himself to the room, steadfast in his refusal to leave them.

The inner circle, their family, had rallied around, taking turns to keep Rhys company, with Azriel stepping up more than anyone. He told himself it was because of his duty as the spymaster, accustomed to the long, sleepless nights. Yet, in the quiet moments, it was Y/n who captured his thoughts, her name a whisper in the back of his mind. Rhys had introduced her simply as "a dear old friend," but the weight of those words suggested so much more.

Azriel found himself drawn to her, ostensibly under the guise of safety. He watched—the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the delicate flutter of her eyelashes, and the gradual resurgence of color painting her cheeks as Mor's condition stabilized. Rhys's tenderness around her was palpable; he hovered constantly, his hands gently tending to her wounds, smoothing salves, replacing bandages, and even brushing her hair with a care that spoke volumes. The crimson magic that danced around her injuries seemed as lost as she was, at times spiraling along Rhys's arms, at others, drifting curiously towards Azriel's lurking shadows.

Once, her magic reached out, touching the darkness before swiftly retreating, but not before his shadows whispered to him

Beautiful. They said. But tired. Tired. Wants to sleep. 

Driven by a mix of concern and curiosity, Azriel had just hastened back to the room, alerted by his shadows to Mor's awakening, only to witness her launching herself out of bed in a frantic bid to reach Y/n. His quick reflexes prevented another fall, catching Mor in a steady grasp, and sitting her down.

"How—what happened?" Mor's voice trembled, her eyes wide as she took in the blood-soaked scene. "Why is there so much blood—wait, is that all her blood? Rhysand!" Her voice climbed, a note of panic threading through her confusion.

Rhysand's face, a mask of exhaustion and worry, softened as he turned to Mor, his voice low and soothing, "It's okay, Mor. You're safe now, both of you are. Y/n... she saved you."

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy as if the very walls were holding their breath. Mor's eyes, wide with disbelief, moved from Rhys to Y/n and back again, as he recounted the ordeal. 

Feyre and Cassian burst into the room then, their expressions a mix of relief and concern. "How is she?" Feyre asked, rushing to Mor's side, her gaze flitting between the two women laid out before them. 

"Awake, finally," Rhys responded, his voice threaded with fatigue yet underscored by a tangible relief. He remained anchored by Y/n's side, his hand lightly resting on hers. 

Cassian moved closer, his gaze lingering on Y/n with a newfound respect. "This is some serious magic she pulled off," he muttered, his voice a mixture of awe and concern, "to save Mor like that."

Mor, gathering the remnants of her strength, attempted to stay seated, her eyes locking onto Y/n's still form. "But... why? Why would she do this for me?" The question hung in the air, raw and laden with emotion.

Rhys's gaze softened, "It’s Y/n… Could she really just stand aside and do nothing, knowing you were in danger, Mor?"

"But she—" Mor's voice broke, looking the most forlorn Azriel had seen her in years. 

"I know," Rhys cut in, his voice firm yet gentle. “And you know that it was complicated back then. Promises were made. That doesn’t mean she has changed, not really.”

"Centuries, Rhys. It's been centuries. I wasn't even sure if she was... still among us," Mor whispered, the weight of years echoed in her voice.

"Centuries? Hold on, how do both of you know her?" Cassian, ever the one to voice the burning questions, brought the room's focus sharply to the heart of the mystery.

The room's attention swiveled to Rhys and Mor, with even Amren and Nesta quietly joining the circle. A silent communication passed between Rhys and Mor, a shared history in a single glance before Rhys cleared his throat.

"Well," he started, the word hanging in the air as he gathered his thoughts. "Without diving too deep into her story—out of respect for her privacy—it's safe to say that Y/n and I share a past. We were raised together in Hewn City... She was, quite possibly, my very first friend."

A ripple of surprise and intrigue swept through the group, each member processing the revelation in their own way. 

“Why did she leave.” Feyre broached. 

"It's... complicated, darling," Rhys pondered the best way to explain. 

"To simplify, her father held a position of significant influence under my father's command, privy to the secrets of Velaris. Given how I became High Lord, he and his family chose to leave, out of respect for my rule, given Keir’s proclivities for rebellion.” 

“What he doesn’t say” Mor interjected, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and sadness. “Was that he offered Y/n a position, he–we requested she stay. Repeatedly.”

“It was more complicated than that, Mor”

“Was it, Rhys? Mor bristled. “She left you when you needed her most, Rhys. We all felt the void she left behind.”

"It wasn't just about politics or positions," Rhys's expression turned somber, his usual charm and ease giving way to a moment of vulnerability. "Y/n…had her reasons, tied to her family's legacy and their own secrets.”

Feyre, sensing the tension, reached for Rhys's hand, offering silent support.

“It was difficult for all of us. I know it hurt you, Mor. We all had regrets.”

Mor sighed, turning around to lay back down. It wasn't easy to concede that her initial shock had morphed into anger, rooted deeply in pain. After all these years, the thought of being reunited with her friend under such harrowing circumstances, indebted to her for her very life, was a reality she hadn't been prepared to face.

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

A/N: I promise there'll be more interactions between Azriel and Y/n in the next parts, I just wanted to set the scene for her complicated history. I also just love platonic interactions between the inner circle and want build up how Y/n is/becomes a part of their family.

[thealexchen]

thoughts on LIS: Double Exposure?

This is probably gonna be my hottest take in awhile, but: I deeply dislike the idea of an official LiS1 direct sequel game existing. Excluding all my thoughts on the gameplay, story, Max's character, etc. I don't think a game like Double Exposure is necessary.

This isn't a new take either; back in 2020 I made a Reddit post saying I was glad we never got a continuation of Max and Chloe's story, because in order to have a plot, you have to have conflict. And to have conflict means your characters are forced to change or struggle in some way, and I simply wasn't interested in seeing that again. I never even read the comics. As long as Max and Chloe's future existed only in the fanbase's collective imagination and not in an officially licensed game, Pricefield could be as happy as I wanted and I wouldn't have to witness DN or D9's version of canon.

A lot of fans, including myself, are also confused and upset as to where Chloe could be in Double Exposure. Even if Chloe winds up having a surprise role, it would likely be too logistically difficult to write Chloe into one version of the story and not the other. Either way, DE is strongly pointing to Chloe no longer being the deuteragonist. If D9 was going to make a direct sequel with Max and Chloe, I could at least be intrigued by how they might write their dynamic and how they'd use Max's power in new and interesting ways. But instead there's... none of that. Chloe's nowhere to be seen and Max can't time travel anymore.

On a narrative level, Max and Chloe are the heart of the original Life is Strange. They represent the game's central relationship, and their very first interaction (Max saving Chloe's life) kicks off the entire story. Throughout the story, their dynamic advances the plot and mutually motivates their character arcs. You can't have LiS1 without either Max or Chloe; the story simply wouldn't exist without them. Now in DE, they don't even seem to be in each other's lives anymore. It's true, this series is meant to reflect universal feelings and experiences, which could include breakups, but the romantic catharsis of Pricefield as canon soulmates who defied time and space itself to stay together forever is something you can only get from the beauty of fiction. To jab DE's story with a dose of reality and go, "Eh, they grew apart. Shit happens," totally undermines everything the Bae ending stood for.

On a technical level, Max's rewind was an objectively brilliant game mechanic. LiS1 arrived onto the scene after Telltale had paved the way for the resurgence of choice-based, episodic games, but LiS1 totally reinvented the wheel by giving the player the option to go back and weigh each option before continuing, essentially save-scumming in-game. But the right choice was never that easy to determine, and Rewind brilliantly complemented Max's character arc of overcoming her indecision and learning to live with her choices. Not to mention, you could also use Rewind to solve puzzles, instead of the endless fetch quests the later games had. No other LiS game since then has given the player that kind of agency and interactivity. LiS2 had telekinesis, but the player couldn't use it, only Daniel. D9 tried with Backtalk and Empathy, but Max's Rewind was truly the narrative and gameplay jackpot that they haven't been able to recreate since.

So if you take away one half of the central relationship that made the first game so memorable, and the supernatural power/game mechanic that made it so fun to play... why even bring Max back at all? It just feels like D9 threw away their golden opportunity to build upon the major selling points of the first game and are only relying on name recognition of the Life is Strange "brand" and Max Caulfield.

What upsets me most of all about a direct sequel existing is that it proves that Life is Strange, as a series, now stands more for profits than originality. Life is Strange will always be an IP meant to make money for Square, I know that, but back when LiS1 was just a brand new episodic game, it stood out for how different it dared to be. In a landscape saturated with shooters, sexualized female characters, and casual misogyny, LiS1 instead featured a teenage girl in a contemporary setting that took her seriously and made her the hero of her story. Before it was a franchise, LiS wasn't concerned with the bottom dollar; it was a piece of art that just wanted to tell a thoughtful, unique story.

Whether you love it or hate it, Life is Strange 2 was an insanely risky follow-up to Life is Strange that refused to rely on the convenience of a direct sequel because Dontnod stuck to their artistic vision. Meanwhile, all of Deck Nine's games have leaned on the first game's following to generate interest (BtS being a direct prequel, TC bringing back Steph, and Wavelengths expanding on Steph's connection to Chloe, Rachel, and Arcadia Bay). In other words, all of the subsequent LiS games by D9 have played it very, very safe. It's worked like a damn charm because there are still elements I love about each game, but the basic principle is nostalgia-baiting fans. It's just that now, Double Exposure isn't hiding that nostalgia bait at all anymore and prioritizing profits over telling a unique story. It's sad to see that LiS has strayed so far from its risky, daring, original, and unique artistic beginnings.

Before I end, I'll say that I can't be too cynical about it all, nor do I want to be. Because I can't deny how much joy this whole series has brought me, too. LiS was what got me into narrative adventure games and pushed the boundaries of what a video game could be. If nothing else, I am truly thrilled that Hannah Telle got the chance to play Max again. D9's always been great at maintaining relationships with their actors, and the casts of their games always have consistently great chemistry. Getting recognized by Erika Mori on my own blog is still unbelievable and speaks to the amazing community that LiS has built. As you can see, I'm still posting and reblogging stuff about Double Exposure. And while I don't see myself buying or playing this game for myself, I know it'll keep all of us talking for awhile, and I still live for a good discussion.

Thank you for asking! And thank you for reading.

[thelonelyfairy]

Fractured Bonds

Chapter 1

( Shouta Aizawa x Reader x Toshinori Yagi)

Summary: Your time working alongside All Might was cut short due to his devastating injury and Sir Nighteye’s grim warning of the resurgence of All For One brought you no choice but to part ways with your lover for the greater good.

Upon your return, you took up a new role as UA’s next nurse, under the guidance of Recovery Girl. Yet, as you re-entered the lives of your old friends and stepped back into the growing conflict with the League of Villains, your past, connections, and the secrets buried deep within you would challenge you resolve and ultimately shape your destiny.

Note: Tags of this story will be on my master list which is linked below! Happy reading!

Masterlist Chapter 2

Note: I absolutely despise reading any x reader fics with any mention of (Y/N) so I added a name here, you’ll see it scattered here and there but I did not add any physical features that’ll throw you off since that is up to your own imagination. Lastly, Minors DNI 🛑 Happy reading! 🫶

Day 1

The sterile smell of antiseptic fills the air as you stand by the entrance of the U.A. infirmary. Once you step foot into the room—with its white walls and clinical cleanliness—your mind and body finally begin to ease.

Recovery Girl sits at her desk, scribbling away at a stack of medical reports, her short figure barely visible behind the pile. “Welcome, dear! So glad to see you doing well after all these years!”

You offer a small smile, though your nerves twist tighter as you approach her desk, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your coat. You’re not used to standing still—action, movement, and fighting was your norm. Healing, while always a part of your Kitsune quirk, has never been your primary focus.

Recovery Girl stands, her cane tapping softly against the floor as she moves towards one of the examination tables. “Your healing abilities with that Kitsune spirit of yours intrigued me the moment you enrolled, but you need to learn how to harness them properly in this kind of environment.”

You nod, healing was always something you did on the sidelines or in the heat of battle, never in a controlled setting like this.

“And one more thing,” Recovery Girl adds, her voice softening slightly as she gestures for you to come closer. “I know you’re carrying a lot from your past, child. You’re not just here because you’re talented. You’re here because you need healing too.”

Day 2

“Absolutely not, Yamada,” Nemuri hisses, keeping a firm grip on the back of Hizashi’s jacket as he tries to push forward, eyes alight with excitement at the sight of you and Recovery Girl on the way to tend to the injured students after the entrance exam. But while Hizashi is eager for a reunion, Nemuri knows better, aware that seeing the faculty, especially after all these years, would turn your stomach into knots.

In the dimly lit security room, Aizawa leans against the wall, his eyes heavy with fatigue as he attempts to ignore the banter between Nemuri and Hizashi. His attention, instead, stays locked on the screens, observing the aftermath of the students' battles, each one fighting for a place in U.A.

As he mentally tallies the students' performances, his sharp gaze focuses on the feed that switches to a familiar face—Midoriya, lying broken in the debris after a heroic but reckless display of power. The boy had saved another student, but at the cost of his own body.

Aizawa sighs, already planning to mark Midoriya down, his thoughts centeres on the boy’s lack of control over his quirk. Then, something—or rather someone—unexpected enters the frame.

Your colored hair steps into view, a fox-like spirit at your side, guiding you towards the injured boy.

‘Yan…’

“Who’s that?” one of the faculty members mutters, leaning in as the camera zooms closer.

Aizawa doesn’t answer. He already knows. Half of the staff in the room already knows.

Beside you stands Recovery Girl, the two of you examining Midoriya’s broken form.

Aizawa watches closely, his heart tightening unexpectedly. He hadn’t seen you in years, but there you are—compose, calm, your movements precise as always.

The room grows quiet, everyone transfixed as you kneel beside Midoriya. Your Kitsune glows softly, casting a warm light over the boy’s battered body.

With practiced care, you place paper talismans, ofuda, on his limbs, each one pulsing with healing energy. Slowly, the light spreads, knitting his shattered bones and torn muscles back together. Midoriya’s pained expression eases as the healing takes hold.

“Fox Face…” All Might’s voice breaks the silence, confusion lacing his words as he leans in for a better view.

Aizawa clenches his jaw as you stand, your Kitsune wrapping itself around your shoulders. You introduce yourself to the students, with that smile full of life, confidence, so different from the shy, hesitant girl he used to know.

“Looks like things are gonna get interesting from here on out,” Nemuri whispers to Hizashi, who chuckles softly, nodding in agreement.

Day 3

You stand just outside the teacher’s office, clutching a stack of paperwork to your chest. It’s your third official day back at U.A., and despite all the years of training and experience you’ve accumulated, a heavy sense of nervousness still resides.

Rumors already circulating that this year’s Hero Course will face unprecedented challenges, which means your workload will only grow. But for now, your task was simple: drop off some forms and avoid any familiar faces.

You peer into the office and sigh in relief. Empty, just as you hoped.

“Alright, get in, get out,” you whisper to yourself, stepping into the quiet room.

You place the paperwork on the desk with a quiet thud, your body finally starting to relax.

“Yan.”

The deep, familiar voice sends a jolt through you, a rush of warmth and dread coursing through your veins.

You turn slowly, already knowing who it is before you even meet his eyes. Toshinori Yagi—All Might, even in his slimmed-down form—leans casually against the doorframe, his smile soft but with a glint in his eyes that hints at more. He’s not here by accident.

You catch your breath before meeting cerulean, “Toshinori,” you greet coolly, though the softness in your tone betrays you.

He steps further into the room, gently closing the door with his foot, leaving it slightly ajar. His gaze drifts to the teacher directory on the wall. “Quite the lineup of teachers this year,” he muses, his finger tracing down the list. He pauses on one name in particular. “Aizawa... EraserHead, huh? Heard some... interesting things about him. Expelled a whole class, didn’t he?”

You stiffen, your heart sinking at the mention of Aizawa.

“He’s... thorough,” you say carefully, forcing neutrality into your voice. “Harsh, but fair. In his own way, at least from what I remember.”

Toshinori glances back at you, his eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary. His gaze feels like a gentle weight, as if he’s trying to read more from your words. His lips quirk slightly, a knowing expression—he’s always been good at reading you.

"Thorough, huh?" he says with a raised brow, teasing. "Sounds like you’ve got some experience with him."

You bite the inside of your cheek, debating how much to reveal. “We studied together. He’s... not the easiest person to get along with.” You force a casual shrug, hoping to mask the sudden heaviness in your chest.

Toshinori’s smile widens, but his eyes soften with understanding. “Well, I was thinking of having a chat with him. Get a sense of who he is before we start working together. But—” his voice lowers, gentler, “—maybe you could join me? Help break the ice?”

You blink, caught off guard not just by the request but by the tenderness in his voice.

Your immediate instinct was to refuse, to avoid the inevitable awkwardness of facing Aizawa after all these years. But Toshinori's warm, steady, almost pleading gaze makes it hard to say no.

“You know him better than I do,” he continues, “It’d be a good way to ease into things... together.”

You finally exhale, your resistance crumbling. “Alright,” you whisper. “I’ll come.”

Toshinori’s face softens with gratitude. “Thank you.”

You nod, glancing down at your hands, realizing they’ve tightened into fists. This was going to be... interesting. To say the least.

The warm afternoon sun filters through the trees as you crouch beside Toshinori, hidden in the bushes near U.A.’s training field. The gentle rustling of leaves matches the anxious beat of your heart as you peek through the branches. Out on the field, Aizawa stands next to Midoriya, the boy you saved back in the entrance exam.

Toshinori, in his All Might form, leans closer, his broad shoulders brushing against yours as he watches with intense focus. “This is where we see what the kid’s made of,” he whispers, his voice low but brimming with enthusiasm.

You raise an eyebrow at his excitement, “Really? Don’t you think this is too much?” you whisper back, nervously glancing up at his massive frame. Even after all these years, it’s still surreal seeing him like this—tall, powerful, and confident, as if his injury never happened.

Toshinori chuckles, the deep sound sending a wave of nostalgia, “A little pressure never hurts anyone.”

You sigh, he hasn’t changed at all. But despite the ease of his presence, a shy flutter stirs in your chest. You had never quite adjusted to seeing him in his All Might form again, not after everything you’d been through together. Memories flood back—his soft whispers and kisses, desperate but gentle touches, his grunts turning guttural with your sounds of pleasure and whimpers—rushes back to you. Those days were exhilarating and loving, but now it felt nothing but a distant dream.

“Wait, wait, is he for real?!” Toshinori’s sudden exclamation pulls you back to the present, his eyes widened with surprise.

Following his gaze, you see Midoriya, his expression full of determination, hurl the ball skyward with such force that it disappears into the clouds. The sheer power of his throw elicits cheers from the other students, their excitement electric as they crowd around Aizawa to see the score.

All but one.

Bakugo—spiky blonde and unmistakable—scowls with fury, clearly unimpressed by Midoriya’s display. Without warning, he charges at Midoriya with a guttural yell, ready to tackle him.

But Aizawa is faster. His gray capture scarf snaps out like lightning, coiling around Bakugo’s arms and torso, stopping him mid-charge. The explosive student thrashes wildly, but it’s no use. Aizawa has him locked down within seconds, his eyes glowing red, hair floating in that familiar storm-like halo, signaling the activation of his Quirk.

You bite back a smile. There’s something about Aizawa’s battle-ready stance—the glowing eyes, the quiet authority, the way his hair moves like it’s caught in an invisible wind. That quiet intensity he carries always draws you in, no matter how much you’ve tried to push it away.

Toshinori, oblivious to your shift in focus, continues watching in awe. “Young Midoriya has so much potential,” he mutters, still marveling at the boy’s strength.

As Aizawa loosens the grip of his scarf, Bakugo grumbles under his breath before stalking back to the group, glaring daggers at Midoriya. Midoriya, relieved, exhales heavily, tension melting from his shoulders.

Aizawa hands Midoriya a referral slip, likely sending him to Recovery Girl. Just as you begin to relax, you feel a sudden, sharp tug,your Kitsune spirit, stirring with urgency. Alarmed, you see the ethereal fox dart out toward the training field.

"Kitsune!" you whisper urgently under your breath, leaving Toshinori behind to admire the glowing trail of Sakura blossoms that always follows your departure.

A gentle breeze, shimmering with glowing Sakura blossoms, swirls around you as you materialize in front of Midoriya, paying no mind to Aizawa being behind you as Your Kitsune spirit coils around you in a radiant, ethereal light.

Midoriya, wide-eyed, in awe at your sudden appearance. His injured finger—the nail bent and bruised—is quickly noticed. Without missing a beat, you pull a healing ofuda from your pouch, wrapping it carefully around the boy’s finger. The Kitsune channels its energy through the talisman, and in an instant, the bruising faded, the injury vanishing as if it had never existed.

"Th-thank you! That was amazing! Aren't you the new nurse? You're incredible!" Midoriya’s words tumbled out in a rush, his face full of awe.

You offer a soft smile as the other students whisper among themselves, intrigued by the display of your Quirk. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Giving Midoriya a final nod before your Kitsune flicks its tail, signaling it was time to retreat.

Before the students begin to flood you with questions, you teleport back to Toshinori, leaving behind the usual shimmering trail of Sakura blossoms.

As you reappear beside Toshinori, hidden in the bushes, he chuckles warmly. “You’re quite the showstopper, Yan.”

You smile, humming softly. “You taught me all of that, after all.”

But before the moment can settle, Aizawa appears. His sharp eyes, trained on the glowing cherry blossom trail you left behind, track its faint shimmer—something that would’ve easily escaped the ordinary eye. His expression is unreadable, though a faint tension lingers in the air.

“Aizawa, that was a rotten move!” Toshinori chimes in, clearly referring to the expulsion tactic used earlier.

Aizawa’s gaze flickers between you and Toshinori, and though his tone is dry, a subtle smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “And what were you two doing over there in the bushes?” The passive aggression in his voice lingers, cutting through the cold detachment of his words.

For a moment, you were back in high school, bantering and teasing like old times. But this wasn’t the same Aizawa you once knew. His cold demeanor, the years that separated you both—it built a wall you weren't sure you could break through.

Toshinori, the complete opposite of Aizawa, brushes off the tension with his carefree demeanor, waving a hand. “I’ve heard rumors about you, Aizawa. Expelling a whole class—bold move.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrows, his gaze locking onto Toshinori’s. “And?”

Toshinori continues, his tone more serious now. “The threat you made earlier about expelling the student in last place—it wasn’t a bluff. You saw their potential and acted on it. But that can only mean, you see the kind of potential in young Midoryia that I do!”

Aizawa’s expression remains stony, but his eyes shift toward you, scrutinizing closely. “So you’ve both been lurking here for a while, watching.”

You drew in a breath, steadying yourself under the weight of his gaze. You’ve never gotten used to those piercing eyes. Your mind scrambles for a response, but Aizawa didn’t give you a chance to speak. “And you just happened to show up in time to heal Midoriya’s injuries. Convenient.”

A small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of Aizawa’s mouth before he turns on his heel, walking away. “It’s cruel,” he mutteres, his voice just loud enough for you and Toshinori to hear, “to let a kid keep dreaming of something that’ll never come true.”

His words lingered in the air, biting and cold. You stood frozen, the weight of his judgment sinking deep into your chest. Even as he disappears from sight, the intensity of his presence remains, swirling around you like a storm cloud that refuses to clear.

Day 4

The next day was more calm to your liking since Allmight planned on mentoring Aizawa’s students with an indoor training session, leaving you busy at the infirmary with Recovery Girl.

With all that’s on your mind and with the insistence of Recovery Girl, you step into the breakroom, your nerves still buzzing from the encounter with Aizawa yesterday.

The breakroom was quiet, except for one familiar figure lounging on the couch.

Midnight, or Nemuri as she preferred to be called by those close to her. Nemuri glances up from her cup of tea, a smirk instantly pulling at her lips. "Well, well, look who finally decided to stop by," she teases, her voice smooth as silk.

You manage a small smile as you cross the room, "I figured I should finally make an appearance," you joke lightly, though the exhaustion in your voice was hard to hide.

Nemuri’s eyes narrows, "You seem tense. Does it have anything to do with a certain someone who goes by the name Eraserhead?" Her voice was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity underneath it.

You wince,"It’s nothing," you lie, but Nemuri wasn’t buying it.

"Uh-huh," Nemuri leans back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest. "Well, if you say so. But I know that look. You saw him, didn’t you?"

You sigh, knowing there was no point in denying it. Nemuri had always been sharp, especially when it came to reading her friends. "Yeah, I ran into him yesterday," you admit, "It was...awkward. I don’t even know how to act around him anymore."

Nemuri frowns, her teasing tone fading. "You know Aizawa can be a tough nut to crack, even for those of us who’ve known him for years. But give it time. He’ll come around again."

You nod, though you weren't entirely convinced. Aizawa wasn’t the only reason your emotions were tangled up. Your return to U.A. had brought up so many memories—both good and bad.

Nemuri studies you for a moment before her expression softens. "What about Hizashi? Are you okay with seeing him? You know how he is—loud, excitable... the complete opposite of you." She chuckles, though her concern was clear.

Hizashi Yamada, Present Mic, had always been a whirlwind of energy, constantly shouting and bursting with enthusiasm. It was hard to keep up with someone like him, especially for someone like you, who thrive in quieter spaces. But at the same time, you do miss him. You missed the friendship you all once shared.

"I think..." You begin slowly, unsure of your own words, approaching one of the couches across from Nemuri "I think it’ll be nice to—“

Nemuri grins at your approval, just as the door to the breakroom burst open, and in comes Hizashi himself, his voice already at full volume before he even stepped inside.

"YAAAAANNNNN!!" Hizashi practically screamed with joy, the break room door burst open, and in comes Hizashi himself, his voice already at full volume before he even stepped inside.

He rushes into the room with arms wide open, hugging you from behind. His blonde hair bounced wildly as he practically jumped toward her, his enthusiasm infectious. "It’s been forever! I can’t believe you’re back!"

You barely had time to brace yourself before Hizashi plops down next to you, pulling you into a tight hug, his sheer energy making you laugh.

"Hi, Hizashi," you managed, your voice muffled by his shoulder. "You haven’t changed a bit."

"And you haven’t aged a day! You’re making me jealous of that Kitsune of yours," Hizashi beams, stepping back to give her some space but still buzzing with excitement, surprised that he still remembers the other pros of your quirk.

For a moment, you regret avoiding them for so long. These were the people who had been by your side through thick and thin. Sure, they were loud, chaotic, and sometimes overwhelming—but they were your friends.

As Hizashi begins his exuberant storytelling, arms flailing dramatically with every word, You couldn’t help but smile at his antics. He hadn’t changed one bit, still the same energetic force of nature. But just as he was getting into the climax of his latest radio escapade, Nemuri suddenly stood up, a sly grin forming on her face.

"Yamada, dear," Nemuri begins in a sweet, almost too innocent voice. "Why don’t you take a little rest?"

Before Hizashi could even react, Midnight raises her hand, releasing her quirk—a subtle wave of pink, sparkling mist that drifted towards Hizashi. His animated voice trailed off mid-sentence, and his eyelids drooped instantly. Within seconds, Hizashi slumped into the chair, fast asleep, still smiling from whatever ridiculous story he’d been telling.

You blink, glancing between Nemuri and the now-snoozing Hizashi. "Was that really necessary?"

Nemuri shrugs, her grin widening. "It was either that, or listen to him go on for another hour. We’d never get a word in." She plops back down on the couch, patting the seat next to her. "Come on, we need a little girl talk, just us. I’ve been dying to hear what’s going on with you, especially after becoming All Might's sidekick.”

You hesitated for a second but then sank into the other end of the couch with a soft sigh, finally able to enjoy the silence after Hizashi’s whirlwind of energy.

Nemuri leans forward, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes twinkling with mischief as you look down, her fingers nervously tapping against your thigh. Of course Nemuri would go straight to the heart of the issue. And now, with Hizashi out cold, there was no escaping the conversation.

"It wasn’t anything serious," you begin softly, trying to brush it off. "I mean, we were both… well, we worked closely together. That’s all."

Nemuri rolls her eyes, giving her a playful nudge. "Don’t play coy with me, Yan. You and All Might were practically glued to each other back when you were his sidekick in America. Something was definitely going on between you two."

“We just work together like we’re supposed to…”

Nemuri raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, please. You don’t just look at someone the way you look at him if it was ‘just work,’ I’m surprised no one caught on."

Your face begins to heat up, recalling those late nights on missions, the moments between battles when you two would steal glances and in private of his home filling up with euphoria from his guttural grunts and your sweet gasps, along with late night cuddles and soft kisses . It had been a different time—a simpler time, before Toshinori’s injury, before he had to carry the burden of being the Symbol of Peace all alone. Back then, you’ve been by his side, helping him, loving him.

But that was the past.

"It was complicated," You admit, her voice barely above a whisper. "We were both so focused on the job. And when his injury happened, everything changed. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, and neither could I."

Nemuri hums, leaning back with a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So… how big was he?” she teases, her eyes glinting mischievously.

Your eyes widens in shock, Of course, the R-Rated Hero would go ask that.

“All I’ll say is I never got used to his size…” You quickly covered your face, embarrassed by the answer that escaped your lips. Thank goodness Hizashi was still out cold—there was no way he could keep something like this to himself.

Nemuri chuckles. “Come on, Yan. We’re all adults here. Why are you acting like a blushing virgin?”

You stiffen, avoiding her gaze as the silence stretches between you. It didn’t take much for Nemuri to put two and two together.

“Wait… Are you telling me… that All Might… All Might, the number one hero, was your first?”

You groan, desperately gesturing for her to lower her voice. “Keep it down! The last thing I need is for the whole school to know that.”

Nemuri mimicked zipping her lips, though her expression was still one of utter shock. “I can’t believe it. All Might took your virginity?” she whispers, disbelief written all over her face.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It wasn’t planned, it just… happened,” you explained softly.

“I thought you lost it to Shouta?"

“You know this,” You explain, “He’s not the same anymore, and neither am I. We’ve both… changed. The breakup had to be done.”

Nemuri shakes her head. "Girl, you’re not getting off that easily. You can’t just bury your feelings forever. I remember the way you two were back in highschool."

"What do you mean?"

Nemuri scoffs, "Oh, don’t play dumb. I remember seeing how flustered you got when he teased you. You two have history, you two were well known as the Highschool sweethearts. Even in the yearbook voted that the two of you would marry in the future!”

Aizawa has always been a constant presence in your life—steady, reliable, and still completely unreadable. But even after all these years, something about him still made your heart race, especially when his sharp eyes locked on yours in that intense, unblinking way of his.

"It’s not like that anymore," your voice strains at the loss of what you two had. "We’re just… co-workers. That’s all."

Nemuri chuckled, rolling here eyes. "Yeah, right. And Hizashi’s a quiet introvert."

You begin to rub your temples. "It’s just… complicated, okay? With both of them. I don’t even know how to feel anymore. Coming back to U.A. has brought up all these old memories, and I just… I don’t know."

Nemuri rests a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I get it. It’s hard being back here after all this time. But just remember, you don’t have to figure it all out right away. Take your time. See how things go with both Toshinori and Aizawa. You’ve got a history with both of them, and that means something."

You nod, grateful for her friend’s understanding. "Thanks, Nemuri. I just… I guess I need to figure out what I really want."

Nemuri grins, pulling you into a quick hug. "That’s what I’m here for. We’re best friends after all aren’t we?”

You smile as all the weight leaves your chest. Maybe Nemuri was right. For now, though, she was grateful for the support of her friends.

Nemuri stands up, stretching lazily as she glances at the still-snoozing Hizashi. "Now, I’m going to wake up this loudmouth before he drools all over the furniture. But remember, if you ever need to talk, I’m here."

You chuckle softly. "Thanks, Nemuri. I’ll keep that in mind."

As Nemuri leans over to nudge Hizashi awake, you take a deep breath, A sense of relief washing over you.

———

Feel free to comment below if you’d like be tagged on the tag list for upcoming chapter updates! Reblogs, likes, and constructive feedback are greatly appreciated 🫶

[spaceorphan18]

How an animated series saved Remy LeBeau (again)

It's a bit of a hyperbolic title, but catchy, non?

I was looking over my comic collection as I've decided to reread X-Men's 60 year history over the course of the summer. And it got me thinking about a dead period of 616 canon that I've never actually read. Around the time Rogue hooked up with Magneto and scooted off to the Avengers, I decided I'd be done with comics for a while. And didn't start again until Rogue (and Gambit) came back to the X-books in 2017's Astonishing X-Men. But it made me wonder -- What happened to Gambit in that time??

Well, after his solo ended, he flitted around to X-Factor and hung out with X-23 and then kind of went 'poof' for a good long while.

Why? I can only guess the same reason this is a running motif with Gambit. There's something about him that drives the X-Office crazy. I'm not here to speculate what or how or who of it all. I don't know enough about the back end of Marvel to give concrete answers. But I think what has surprised me (recently) is that he's definitely a fan favorite character.

[Yes, I know he can be a divisive character. Yes, I know elements of his character from the 90s have not aged well. Yes, I know there are those of you who can't stand him. Don't really care - you can get off my lawn, thank you.]

Which got me thinking -- Gambit's original popularity, I believe, stemmed from the original X-Men Animated Series. He had just started showing up in the comics at the time, and had barely any kind of page time. And the X-Men TAS swung and was a hit. And so was Gambit.

I don't really know that Gambit would be around today if TAS hadn't done its thing. Would the X-Office have kept him around? I really have no idea.

But they did try to get rid of him. That was the point of leaving him in Antarctica. And things were just never the same after that. Claremont tried his best in the early 2000s. And then Deathbit happened. Carey's run wasn't bad. But Carey clearly had an agenda for other things... And then, Gambit just kind of faded into the background. (I hear his run as a side character for Laura (X-23) was good - but I haven't read that.)

Bless Kelly Thompson (always) for sparking life back into him with (and his relationship with Rogue). And bless the fact that she actually married him to Rogue. Yes, I understand comics -- my god look what they did to Peter and MJ, no one really gets to be happily married except Sue and Reed. He and Rogue are now really tied together in a way that I don't think is going to be undone any time soon.

Even if the X-Office still isn't thrilled with the guy. Krakoa era has been less than ideal. (I can't comment on it fully - I haven't read much of it, as I'm behind on my comic reading.) But I've heard rumors that one reason Thompson was let go was that she didn't want Gambit killed off. And she didn't like the direction they wanted to take the character.

Which leads me to X-Men 97. Killing him off sucked. Really. As a fan, it really sucked. But - my god, the reaction to it. Gambit was amazing. And all I've heard lately is good things about the character. There's been a Gambit resurgence in the best way. He may have went out -- but he went out with a bang. X-Men 97 made an emotional impact with people. And that changes things.

Gambit is cool again.

And I love it.

What's even more exciting is the fact that the X-Office has changed hands again and Gail Simone on Uncanny who (if her Twitter/X feed is to be believed) is really enjoying writing the character. Which means (hopefully) at least another year or two in the comics of some (hopefully) great Gambit stuff.

And maybe there will be some changing of hearts and minds in the X-Office.

It's actually very exciting.

And, guys, I really (really, really) doubt he'll be completely gone from X-Men 97, too.

Because Remy LeBeau never stays down for long.

But as a fan, it's nice to see him be on top again. And I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon.

[j-jared]

hello!!! i just stumbled across your resurgence au (i think that's the name lol) and it looks super cool!!!! :OOO may i ask what is maki's whole deal,,,i love her a lot :3

It's Maki time!

So in Resurgence, like the rest of the V3 cast, Maki is saved from the simulation by Future Foundation. I've touched on this in a few older posts, but their recovery took place in a hastily thrown together field base/hospital in a city that's still pretty deep in despair. It was a matter of not being able to get transport in for everyone right away - they had a set date for the helicopters to come for them all.

By unfortunate coincidence (coincidence, huh) - the day the helicopters come, the hospital is bombed by a Despair mob. They weren't so happy with their show being cancelled by stupid teenagers (THH was streamed to the world, then despair audiences kinda gutted and reverse engineered the Neo World Program after the Remnants were restored to their og personalities, I'd say it's probably because of the brainwashed Future Foundation members that it got out to the world - so yeah "Danganronpa" is a "TV" show in that regard, but its not how the V3 ending explains it)

Maki was in a separate wing from most of the others when the bombs went off, and her escape route ended up on the side where the mob was gathered (a lot of the others got around the mob by going out other exits) - So Maki has to fight her way to safety, and unfortunately, she misses out on the helicopter evacuation.

Now, Maki can take care of herself. She might not be Ultimate Apocalypse Survivor, but she has the training to patch wounds, adapt to harsh conditions, and defend herself. So she's doing about as fine as one can in a city that's basically an active war zone.

Then Kaede shows up.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I chose Kaede, I really wanna explore that dynamic but haven't gotten around to it yet - I think their personalities would blend and butt against each other in a situation like this, it's like a hardcore setting for the killing game with no rules. Kaede was with Future Foundation as a field agent, but her squad got separated during an attack (they were probably looking for the missing V3 cast) - Funnily enough Kaito, Tenko, and Shuichi were on that squad so - yikes on missing them.

So now it's Maki and Kaede vs the world!

Until Kaede's radio starts unscrambling itself and picking up Future Foundation communications again - but they can't reply it seems. The signal seems to fade in and out each time they leave this district, maybe they should investigate, right?

... Oh hi Kokichi and Kiibo!

---

That's about as far as I've gotten in the general aspect of Maki's arc! I could go into detail about points up until now, but this post is already getting long on me. There will be bonding, there will be old scores to settle, there will be... forgiveness? Well, it's too early to say. I think the four of them are an interesting squad to shove into the apocalypse together, especially knowing the later game dynamics of Kokichi, Kiibo, and Maki, and me basically having to figure out Kaede and if the blank slate of her not being around for most of V3 is something that helps them all get along or complete ruins the dynamic at moments.

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

today is my 4th anniversary of having long COVID. A sickiversary, if you will. We also happen to have recently entered another massive resurgence of COVID. So I have something I want to say:

I'm tired.

Physically, emotionally, metaphorically, literally. I am exhausted. I'm burnt out. I've told my story so many times that the words barely sound like words to me anymore. I've said "there's no cures or treatments for long COVID" so many times that I might as well tattoo that shit across my forehead. I've poured my heart out about losing everything to this disease, my dreams, my ability to hold a job, my independence, and every time I do it inhibits my ability to move on. I want so badly to quit, to say fuck everyone else and focus on my own healing, but I can't. I can't see people dying and look away. I can't go through what I've gone through and not try to keep other people from suffering. It constantly feels like I'm pulling people away from the edge of a cliff while they try to convince me it's just a gentle valley, and when I tell them to look with their own eyes they call me paranoid.

Not caring about COVID is a privilege and I want to take it away from everyone. I want to force everyone to care but I can't. All I can do is keep begging people to listen. Please beg with me. Please carry my story and the stories of other long COVID patients to places we can't reach. Please take some of the burden off of physically disabled people to save the world.

[fourstarsoutofnine]

Can I request Sky x reader where reader gets rescued by him and it's also their first time meeting each other as well? uhhh something like Sky slays the monsters that held reader captive and then they can properly meet. hope it's not confusing.

Safety

Sky x reader <3

Warnings:none other than this is probably straying from canon. Also it’s short and probably bad, I haven’t written anything for Loz in a while, but bc of a resurgence in my Zelda era I’m back.

Link was going about his day like any other weekend. He slept in late, got up around noon, walked around with a dazed smile on his face. The surface had its perks. Of course he loved living up in skyloft, but there was something so enchanting about the surface. The vegetation was so much more lush and beautiful down here… everything was rather dry in the sky… made sense, it was always direct sunlight… all the clouds loomed below. He’d since experienced rain for the first time, and loved it. His first thunderstorm, however—that was different. He reminisced as he walked along a path, the master sword on his back as it always was. He was ripped out of his daydreams by a bloodcurdling shriek. He took off and found someone being backed into a wall by a bokoblin. They were holding their head as the bokoblin raised its weapon, ready to strike. Link stepped in between the person and the beast, catching its weapon in his shield. He slew the beast and turned, crouching in front of you. “Are you okay..? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you..?

Too stunned to speak, you shook your head. You weren’t hurt—or at least, you didn’t think so. Your adrenaline was still pumping so hard you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Link held his hand out and you took it, letting him help you up. He helped you back to the main trail, and back to town with the others. Finally, you were calmed down enough to speak. “Thank you for saving me… I’d be a goner if you weren’t there.”

“It’s nothing at all.” He smiled softly. “I’m Link, by the way.”

“The hero. I know.” You smiled just a little. “Y/n.”

“Well, y/n—it might be wise to keep a weapon when you’re straying from town..” he laughed a little. “I could teach you how to use one sometime..?”

“I might take you up on that… I mean—I’ll definitely take you up on that.” You laughed. “It’d be useful. Thank you, hero. Or—Link. Thank you, Link.”

“Of course… stay safe, y/n.”

“You too.” You smiled, watching him walk away as your friends rushed up to check on you and get all the details from the conversation you shared with the hero.

[king-zacharyy]

Part 1 (Here) Part 2

EDIT: I fixed some spelling/grammar errors and added some things to a couple areas.

TW: Injury, hospitals, surgery mentions

——————————————

"Four chimes. Max."

Nancy had barely finished speaking before Steve was out the door of the Creel house, sprinting back the way they came. He wove through the forest on muscle memory alone, a resurgence of adrenaline fueling his exhausted, wounded body.

The pain and lightheadedness faded away under the constant stream of Max Max Max because that's his kid. His kid, who he let get put in danger. His kid, who he wasn't there to protect, and she has to be okay. She has to be.

Because they had plans for a concert in summer that he had spent months saving up for just for her. And she has to be okay, because if she isn't, he doesn't know what he'll do with himself. He doesn't know how he could possibly live without one of his kids. Without Max. Without his little sister. Without Max.

The sound of loud, gut wrenching, sobs and screams cut through his thoughts, and he stuttered to a stop. Dustin. He bolted in the direction of the sound, absent-mindedly stepping over the demobats littering the ground, motionless.

In the center of the bats, sat Dustin, hunched over a motionless form, his shoulders shaking with the sobs that were much louder now that he was closer.

Steve's shoulders drooped at the sight of Dustin alive before his brain registered who Dustin was slumped over and the state he was in, and he had to bite back a sob of his own. Because there lay Eddie Munson in a pool of his own blood. Munson, who clearly pulled some hero shit, and damn it, Eddie, I told you not to be a hero!

Steve slid in front of Dustin, causing the boy to look up. "Steve! Steve, you have to help him! Eddie, he– he cut the rope– and– and—" Dustin's voice trailed off into sobs again, and Steve sprung into action.

"Dustin, you gotta move. I'm gonna help him, but I need you to move." The curly haired boy nodded, hiccuping, and moved out from under Eddie.

Steve was quick to check his pulse, finding a faint, but very much there, thump thump thump. Steve ripped off his jacket and tied it around the wounds on Munson's side. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he hefted Eddie into a bridal carry and stood.

When he turned, he was met with Nancy's determined face. "Dustin said Munson cut the rope, so I won't be able to get him through there. I want you to take Dustin back through the gate in the trailer and call for an ambulance to Fred's gate. After that, go pick up the kids. Robin, you're with me. Meet us at the hospital."

His tone brokered no arguments as they set off in the direction of the highway, his thoughts a constant stream of Eddie Eddie Eddie and Max Max Max.

The next moments were a blur of movement and sound as they got Eddie and themselves through the gate and into the ambulance once it got there.

They rode in the ambulance with Eddie, Steve making sure the paramedics were doing their job. As soon as they got to Hawkins General, Eddie was taken into surgery, and Steve and Robin were alone in the parking lot.

As they entered the lobby, they were met with chaos. He wove his way through the crowd of people seeking treatment or waiting for loved ones and went to the reception desk, Robin following closely behind him.

"Excuse me, was a Max– um Maxine Mayfield admitted recently?" He asked the nurse there, body thruming with anxiety. She clacked away on her computer for a minute before turning to him.

"There was. Are you family? I'm afraid I can't give any more information unless you are."

"I am. I'm her brother? Please, we got separated, and all I know is she got hurt. Is she– is she okay?"

Pity swirled in her eyes, and he tried not to snap. She glanced back at her computer, reading something before answering, "She's in surgery right now, I'm sorry, I don't know much beyond that."

He nodded shakily, stepping back from the counter. He stumbled as the adrenaline faded. His vision blurred, he felt lightheaded, and his sides burned.

"Steve? Steve!" Robin shouting was the last thing he heard before he collapsed, and his world went black.

●●●●●

"Scoops! I work for Scoops!" He thought he escaped. Why was he back in the base? His head felt light and floaty, so they must've drugged him again. Robin. Where's Robin?

"Steve! Calm down! You're in the hospital. We're not in the base. We got out. I'm right here. Breathe, dingus. You're okay. I'm okay."

Slowly, Steve's breathing evened out, and his vision cleared. He took in the white walls around him and sagged against the bed. White, not steel gray. He glanced to his right, where Robin was sitting, gripping his hand, and he relaxed fully.

The memories of the last week rushed back, and he fought the panic that threatened to rise. Robbie squeezed his hand, reading his mind, and said, "You collapsed because of your wounds and had to be rushed into surgery. You've got some damage to your throat from being strangled, and your bat bites got a minor infection. Your back is also raw and had some cuts on it. The doctor said you'll have a lot of scars, and you'll likely need some physical therapy to rebuild the muscle the bats took, but you should be okay. Don't ever scare me like that again, though, Dingus."

He squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. "Max is.. She's hurt pretty bad. She has a broken arm, both of her legs are broken, and her eyes took a hit. They're not sure if she'll ever walk again, and they have to wait until she wakes up to know if she'll be able to see, but they're hopeful. She's in a medically induced coma so she can heal.

Eddie got here just in time. He lost a lot of blood and needed several transfusions, but he's alive. He'll probably need physical therapy, and he'll scar, but he's gonna be fine."

Steve practically collapsed in relief. They were okay. Hurt, but alive. He squeezed her hand in silent thanks, a question in his eyes when he looked at her.

How is everyone else?

"Everyone else has minor injuries. Erica has some scrapes and bruises from Andy tackling her, and Lucas had to get some stitches because of Jason. Apparently, they attacked the kids, and Jason went all pitchforks and torches on Lucas. Max's Walkman broke in the scuffle, and that's why she got all hurt."

Steve had to breathe for a minute to stave of the murderous rage he felt and the sudden and all-consuming urge to kill the bastards who dare lay a finger on his kids.

"Down, boy. Jason got killed when the gates split open, and Andy is currently in custody. And before you ask, the gates closed pretty soon after they nearly split the town open. We don't know how or why, but they're closed.

Back on the topic of everyone's health, Dustin got a sprained ankle when he went back through the gate after Eddie cut the rope, so he's got an ankle boot for that, but he'll be fine. Nancy and I are okay. The only injuries we got were from the vines choking us, but there was no lasting damage."

He nodded, opening his mouth to talk, barely getting a word out before he's thrown into a coughing fit. Robin handed him a cup of cold water, and he was quick to gulp it down.

"Try not to talk. Like I said, you've got a bit of damage to your throat, so it's gonna hurt to talk for a little."

He nodded again and mimed writing. She grabbed a legal pad and a pen that sat on the table by the bed and handed it over.

'Any word from the Byers?'

"Yeah, Jonathan was able to get into contact a few hours ago. He said they were on their way back to Hawkins and would explain what happened on their end when they got here."

'How long have I been out?'

"About a day. Your surgery lasted for a few hours, and then you were in and out of consciousness a couple of times after the anesthesia wore off."

'Why was everything chaos when we got here yesterday?'

"When the gates initially opened, it caused a pretty massive earthquake, and a lot of people got injured. Now, enough questions. You still need rest. When you wake up next, I'll see if I can convince a nurse to let you see Max. Sleep, everyone will still be here when you wake up, and I'm not gonna leave your side."

With that last bit of reassurance, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Part 2

——————————————

This was mostly an excuse to write Steve passing out from his injuries in Season four and some Steve and Max sibling-ism!

[annagaw]

finally read DMATMOOBIL last week - which I’d been putting off reading, saving for a rainy day, but found I could resist no longer - and, needless to say, je suis ensorcelé.

so many moments, SO MANY, are still gambolling freely about my brain like giddy transfigured borzois, so I picked up my dusty old apple pencil for the first time in months (was having a tortured artist break, to do tortured artist things - spent approximately 87% of that time reading dramione fanfiction, but in a rather tortured and artistic way I expect), and scribbled out this little moment from the rose garden. it has since launched me into a full-scale fan art resurgence, hence the foundation of this blog. this was the first piece I created!

not at all happy with any of of the full-colour versions (I made at least three) but have included the least offensive. will revisit the colours at a later date and, if I then manage to produce a version that sparks joy and does not spark sick, perhaps I’ll share again!

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗟 𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘𝗦

Given the recent sort-of resurgence of Marvel OCs in this community, I found my own inspiration revived and decided to make some myself! I actually will very likely be properly introducing all of these (as well as elaborating on my MCU rewrite that actually includes mutants and more comic-accurate stuff, which they all exist in), but for now you can still feel free to ask me questions about any of them!!

Cheryl “Cherry” Marsden a.k.a. Cherry Bomb, she/her, no ship, Margot Robbie FC. A mutant with the power to manipulate energy and use it to create small, brightly-coloured bombs. Surrendered to the Xavier Institute when she was only eleven after showcasing her powers because her parents hated mutants, but ran away at sixteen and started grifting for a “living” because she was too chaotic and pretty much everybody in the mansion hated her. Eventually became a vigilante in Brooklyn, using her powers to take down criminals and corrupt rich people, before she’s approached by the Avengers (completely Tony’s idea, is anyone surprised) because there was a chance she could help them out as a part of the team. Promptly becomes the chaotic aro-ace rep the Avengers needed, inserting herself into their little found family and causing mischief all the while. Incredibly wild and chaotic and takes very little seriously, but incredibly loyal, a good fighter, and a lot smarter than most people assume. Basically she’s just here to save the world and have a good time doing it, and we love that for her.

Raina Lombardi, she/her, Natasha Romanoff (recasted as Jessica Chastain) ship, Monica Barbaro FC. A legacy S.H.I.E.L.D. employee (her great-grandfather was a scientist in the SSR and at least one member of her family has held a job in S.H.I.E.L.D. ever since), but never wanted to become an agent like both of her parents, so she chose to become a combat trainer at the Academy and teach new field agent recruits instead. Has admired Natasha from afar for years, but actually gets to know her after Fury finally convinces her to guest-teach a hand-to-hand lesson at the Academy and they start talking. Never actually goes out on any missions, but does interact with Coulson’s team on occasion and is a big fighter when it’s revealed that HYDRA’s invaded S.H.I.E.L.D. Generally a very serious person who’s incredibly loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. and dedicated to her job (doesn’t really know what to do with herself after the agency collapses, but eventually becomes an MMA instructor), but also has an unexpected wry sense of humour and, despite her slightly intimidating facade, can be very warm and friendly. (Also a big fat lesbian who goes a little bit speechless whenever Natasha does something cool even after they start dating, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Henry Archibald a.k.a. Foresight, he/him, Sharon Carter ship, Tom Payne FC. A mutant with the power of precognition who only gets his visions in dreams, and thus suffers from fairly bad insomnia because they so often scare him and he wants to avoid them. Approached by S.H.I.E.L.D. because Fury thinks his powers might be useful, and Sharon is placed in charge of sort of keeping an eye on him the way she was with Steve, to make sure he doesn’t completely break down. Very reluctant to get close to anyone because he has a tendency to get horrible visions about those he cares about, but he can’t stop himself and eventually they become a really cute couple. Incredibly anxious, quiet, and closed-off due to his powers, but also has a very good heart and would do anything for the people he cares about. Also becomes really good friends with Maria Hill, Bobbi Morse, and most of Coulson’s team, especially Fitzsimmons and Skye.

Apollo Huang, he/they, Bucky Barnes ship, Harry Shum Jr. FC. A sorcerer (a born one, different from a mutant or witch) who moved to Budapest a few years before Bucky runs there after his magic almost gets found out back home in New York, and Bucky finds himself drawn to their stall of luck charms (that don’t actually work), while he finds themself drawn to him because he can sense the pain and dark energy from the past swirling around him. Over the year that Bucky’s hiding out, they find themselves spending more and more time together and falling in love, enough so that Apollo is even willing to reveal their magic and use it to help Steve prove that Bucky didn’t bomb the Sokovia Accords signing (he also almost uses it to kill Zemo later, but that’s a different thing). Playful and humorous, but also gentle and loving and would not hesitate to do anything at all for Bucky or anyone else they care about. Also an incredibly powerful sorcerer and not at all afraid to show off his magic to anyone who will watch.

Sabrina Devereaux a.k.a. Snowbird, she/her, Steve Rogers (recasted as Glen Powell) ship, Minka Kelly FC. A mutant with the ability to create and manipulate ice, snow, and frost, who was sold to a mutant trafficking ring by her parents when she was only thirteen and forced to fight other young mutants for entertainment. Finally ran away and lived on the streets until she was discovered by Clint a few years after he found Natasha and she begged to be brought to S.H.I.E.L.D. and made into an agent once she realized who he worked for, because she wanted to help people the way she and her fellow trafficked youth hadn’t been helped. Created her own suit and codename as an homage to the bird-themed name of the man who’d saved her, and becomes one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best agents. Brought into the Avengers on Clint and Natasha’s suggestion shortly after the Battle of New York, and quickly becomes close to everyone on the team, as well as falling in love with America’s golden boy. Can be quiet and closed-off because of her past, but also has a lot of inner strength and is incredibly bold and not afraid to speak up for what she believes. Becomes really good friends with Thor and Bruce, and also a very sweet bisexual who has a big crush on Natasha for, like, a solid week after meeting her.

Harald Aamirson, he/him, Loki Laufeyson ship, Dev Patel FC. A knight in Asgard’s Royal Guard who’s been pining for the younger prince from afar since they were both young, hating the way Odin treated him and favoured Thor over him. When he gets assigned as Loki’s new personal guard, they finally start getting to know each other and connecting and even share a kiss, only for it to be revealed that Loki was planning to banish his brother and kill Odin. Thus begins the most complicated on-and-off relationship in all the Nine Realms, but throughout it all there is genuine love and heartbreak and so much care between them. Harald is incredibly dedicated and loyal, the perfect guard, but also a little bit feral (he’s in love with Loki, how could he not be), and isn’t afraid to bend the rules for the sake of the people he cares about. Eventually becomes one of Thor’s most trusted companions, which is definitely funny when you consider how much he used to resent him (they’re cool now, though).

Caroline “Carrie” Flores, she/her, Wanda Maximoff (recasted as Gratiela Brancusi) ship, Melissa Barrera FC. The daughter of one of the HYRDA scientists who had moved to Sokovia to perform human experiments, and although she was never allowed to interact with the subjects, never forgot Wanda and Pietro and the obvious aptitude they showed for abilities before the scientists ever got their hands on them. Due to her rage at her father and the atrocities he committed, became an assassin who hunted down the former HYDRA employees who had gotten away from the Avengers, all the while trying to figure out the secrets of the twins’ powers. Once she’s finally figured out their true parentage and the fact that Wanda is an Omega-level mutant, she finally approaches the Avengers, and through spending time with Wanda, who actually remembers her as well, they eventually fall in love! Carrie has a lot of rage and trauma due to her father’s abuse and the things she did over the years, but she has a lot of love in her heart and desperately craves to be loved the way Wanda loves her. Also, like, Probably Too Comfortable with being covered in blood, but luckily for her Wanda’s kind of into that.

Raymond “Ray” Nakamura a.k.a. Menagerie, he/him, Peter Parker ship, Ryan Potter FC. A mutant with the power to transform into any animal he wishes, who plays off the green hair that comes with his mutation and mostly just tries to fly under the radar, but eventually gets inspired by Spider-Man and decides to take to the streets as his own kind of vigilante named Menagerie - only to accidentally run into a maskless Spider-Man one night and discover that the insect-themed vigilante is actually the awkward guy who sits beside him in English. Ray decides to reveal himself to Peter as well and becomes a Friend of Spider-Man, and eventually they also fall in love and become a really cute superhero couple. Very sarcastic and blunt, but with a heart of gold, and incredibly brave and always ready to fight for what’s right and for the people he cares about. Also becomes besties with MJ, and they have fun judging people together.

Callisto, they/she pronouns, Peter Quill (recasted as Jensen Ackles) ship, Felicity Jones FC. A half-human, half-Asgardian hybrid who grew up with their Terran mother on Xander, until she was killed by a small Kree militia group during an attack and Callisto was taken to become a Kree battle slave at the age of eleven. Ran across Yondu’s band of Ravagers during a Kree mission, and Yondu, being reminded of his own past, decided to take her in, so she grew up with Peter until he left to strike out on his own and Callisto stayed with the Ravagers, and actually started to resent him for what they saw as him leaving her behind. When Peter steals the Orb, Yondu decides it would be best to send Callisto after him since they already have a grudge against him but will still bring him back alive - of course, she doesn’t expect Rocket, Groot, and Gamora to also be there and winds up shipped to the Kyln with the rest of them, and over the course of the group’s adventures actually starts to want to punch Peter less and less. An incredibly good fighter who’s amazing with almost any weapon, and the best sharpshooter in Yondu’s Ravager band. Very fierce and intense and, on the surface, a lot like Gamora, but actually has a chaotic streak much like Peter’s that they’ve tried to tamp down, and at the end of the day just wants to be loved and not left alone like she was before. Actually becomes really good friends with Rocket, and eventually the whole team comes to dead the shenanigans they get up to when left alone together.

Tagging the Marvel moots: @dancingsunflowers-ocs,

@ginevrastilinski-ocs, @xoteajays, @gabbysdawsons,

@stelstellakidd, @come-along-pond, @juliaswickcrs,

@asirensrage, @themaradwrites,

@goldheartedchaoticdisaster.

[blossom-hwa]

Hi ^^ for the drabble event... maybe wonwoo + demigod au, if that's okay??

in honor of the recent PJO resurgence (I need to watch the show) please take this soft and cheesy demigod au of child of athena wonwoo + child of nyx mc as my humble offering <3 hope you enjoy!

summertime drabble fest: send me an idol from the list (Stray Kids, Ateez, TXT, Seventeen) + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

REQUESTS CLOSED!

~

Title: Stargazer

Pairing: Wonwoo x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1k

Genre: fluff, demigod!au

Warnings: n/a

~

"Careful, there."

Wonwoo grumbles as he pulls himself onto the roof, though really, he's counting on the darkness to hide his smile. "I wouldn't have to be careful if you didn't insist on nearly breaking our necks every time you wanted to meet."

Your laugh, though hushed, sends a warm tingle up Wonwoo's spine. "What, you don't trust me to save your neck before you die?"

"Tch." Wonwoo stops trying to hide his smile as he sits down next to you, bumping your shoulder with his. "Of course I trust you. I'd just rather not get to that point in the first place."

"Wouldn't we all?" you snicker. You turn to face him and not for the first time, Wonwoo wonders at your beauty in the darkness between the shadows cast by the moon and the stars, mystery cloaking your every movement. Up on the roof, under the night, you look so at home that for a moment Wonwoo finds himself uncertain whether or not he belongs here, disrupting your peace. Then you lay his head on your shoulder, all the while casting that moon-glow grin on him, and the uncertainty disappears. 

"I think everyone likes to avoid death, or near-death experiences," Wonwoo replies. A breeze spins across the two of you, fluttering his hair, and he shivers a little. 

You pull him closer. "Yeah, well, that's just not what happens for us," you say, and even though Wonwoo can't quite see your face right now he knows the smirking smile that must be on your lips, sardonic but sweet. "Should've brought a blanket," you continue in a mumble, only just loud enough for him to hear. "I can get one now if you want."

"It's fine," Wonwoo murmurs. The world is so quiet now that the noise of the earlier celebrations has gone. If he closed his eyes, and if he didn't feel so safe, he'd almost feel like he was back on the quest—him sleeping, you keeping watch, your careful fingers smoothing hair out of his eyes. "Don't go."

He hears your smile more than he sees it. "I won't," you promise. "Not going anywhere, now."

"Good." Wonwoo sighs, pulling his head off your shoulder to look at you. "Let's stay here for a bit longer."

Your eyes turn a little softer, a little sweeter as you nod. You know he doesn't just mean now, on the roof of your cabin, under the stars, overlooking Long Island Sound. You hear the words he didn't say. Stay with me. Stay safe with me. Stay where we won't face death almost every other day—stay where I can love you peacefully.

Child of wisdom, child of night. When the two of you appeared at camp within a week of each other, battered and bruised and more than a little traumatized, it was clear even without the prophecy that your fates would be intertwined. The connection was only cemented when Chiron declared the two of you were the subjects of the prophecy—child of wisdom, child of night—and would leave just a couple weeks later that would take the best part of several months.

Wonwoo thinks about himself then. Nearly an adult, newly christened son of Athena—a goddess he hadn't even known existed until then—uprooted from his books and studies to fight monsters instead. You had seemed like just another anomaly with whom to acquaint himself, a child of Nyx, more comfortable at night than during the day, words sharp and strange and more than a little cryptic, and in truth, he'd been scared of you. At least a bit. Until nights spent in awkward silence turned into nights spent in stilted conversation turned into nights spent noticing that for all the darkness cloaking your every movement—

You looked just as comfortable among the stars, too. 

"What'cha looking at?" you murmur, tugging him close. Your eyes twinkle, the shadows that follow you wrapping around him too in a soft blanket. "Stargazer."

Wonwoo's cheeks feel warm even though his lips curve wide into a smile. You came up with the nickname after he once compared your eyes to stars in a moment of loose-lipped weakness, during the quest when you'd snuck him into a hospital babbling and exhausted and bleeding out of his side, and he'd woken up to you sleeping in a chair by his bed, his hand clasped tightly between both of yours. 

"You said a lot of stuff while you were out."

"Gods. How embarrassing was I?"

"I'll leave most of it out." Your laugh, soft like moonlight. "But you did say my eyes look like stars." 

His face flushing. Your eyes twinkling. 

"So I said that you must've looked at my eyes a lot to come to that conclusion, and you agreed, Stargazer."

Wonwoo leans in, presses a soft kiss to your lips. "The stars," he replies when he pulls away, smiling so hard it almost hurts. 

You raise an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, the stars were up there, in the sky." You wave a hand in front of your face. "Not right here."

Wonwoo likes reading. Likes stories, likes philosophy, likes pretty much anything that isn't a stupid physics textbook that he can't make heads or tails of. And while he doesn't read a lot of romance novels, he likes them well enough that sometimes he can't help but wish the two of you were in one—fated lovers guaranteed a happily ever after. 

Nothing is guaranteed here, though. Not his life, not yours, not that of those around him either. There may never be a perfect romance between the two of you, demigods that you are, forced to be on the watch every single waking moment. But despite that, right now, Wonwoo thinks this is about as perfect as it gets—the night sky, the stars, and you.

"That's usually true," he replies, smiling. You smile back, and when you do, it seems that the night smiles, too. "Just not if I'm looking at the ones in your eyes."

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[justheretoposttrash]

day 9 in endhawks hell (actually over a year in endhawks hell but moving on):

not one to spread apocryphal info on the internet but my very unverified source (my friend) told me that losing a right arm in anime/japanese media symbolizes shame, disgrace, some other kinda downfall, or the need to redeem oneself. to be clear i have not found an actual source on this, but it definitely would explain a LOT (tears of the kingdom, aot, fma, hunter x hunter, so many more)

and big surprise, that all 100% tracks with endeavor's loss of his arm. if we were to assume all the symbolism is true and accurately described by me (which i encourage not to assume outside of this post), it's very interesting that endeavor loses it in the afo fight protecting hawks rather than in his fight with touya.

it should be noted that him losing his temper is what indirectly places hawks (and tokoyami and jiro) in danger, bc his rage at afo opened him up to injury and being absent from part of the fight in the first place. i also appreciate that, when hawks shouts at endeavor to "keep a cool head" in the face of afo's psychological warfare and endeavor fails to do so, hawks very clearly doesn't view this as weakness, but as a natural human reaction and is mainly worried about him--whereas endeavor is furious with himself right after the fact.

he says it outright in the text--that from the beginning, the whole tragedy, even his rage at afo leading to his current injury, is all only made possible because of the wounds he inflicted on his family in the first place. it's also notable that endeavor's inability to manage his anger, rather than having anger at all, was a core aspect of his abusive outbursts in the past, and his initial fall to afo in this fight. his temper continues to be a source of problems for himself and those around him.

and while endeavor made an overt mistake, hawks made a covert one: it is confronting his own emotions, rather than shutting them away (making a "clean break", as it were), that allows endeavor to re-enter the fight in full.

in result, endeavor's struggles with his own shame create an opportunity for hawks to be killed, but in accepting his shame, he saves him. (aside: the playful echo of "keep a cool head" in the above panel is so ridiculous. non-judgmental, trusting, teasing--knowing, yet forgiving/appreciative--like hawks and his intern hadn't just nearly died, lmao. arms were lost but there's always time to squeeze in a wisecrack)

this also fits well with hawks initially thinking that it's because endeavor is in an emotionally vulnerable place that he couldn't fight touya without losing (read: dying).

hawks initially felt certain that endeavor needed his support and protection because the man wasn't shutting his emotions away--but it's after endeavor is able to resurge back with his emotionality intact that hawks reverses his decision and is the one encouraging him to be the one to confront touya. and with full confidence! (the, uh, touya fight was a hair's breadth from ~not going well~, but let's not tell hawks that right now lol)

to slightly shift back to this "clean break" moment: by contrasting himself against endeavor, who is trying to do better = still vulnerable to the past = has emotions that the enemy can exploit, hawks implies that he doesn't see himself as being the same on *any* of those counts, which is a sad thing to realize. shutting off his heart? not being a better person than he was before? this implication would have benefitted from more intentional and clear closure in the manga (i think the single tiny frame of hawks talking with tokoyami in 430 is just *fine*, ish), but at any rate, endeavor certainly sets a solid example of a person learning to open themself up to these sorts of things, and those lessons are ones hawks could very much use.

anyway, in short, thematically/symbolically/what-have-you, endeavor's work towards atoning for his family, taking more emotional accountability, and accepting emotions rather than rejecting them is connected to inspiring hawks, doing right by him, and even saving him a second time.

[jkl-fff]

what was your inspo for the daily asks? i love them btw

Thanks for the ask and the interest! I'm delighted to hear you and others enjoy them so much. Makes me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile.

As a general project, Silly Game Time was inspired by a few things.

First, for a while before I started it, I would see a certain kind of post lamenting deteriorations in Tumblr's culture over the years. In particular, how there used to be a much more vibrant and fun practice of sending asks to each other (whether it was numbers or symbols based on a list of questions someone reblogged, participating with someone's fandom-based and roleplay-driven ask blog, copy-pasted bits of positivity and encouragement, and so on). These posts always made me feel a bit nostalgic. I would think, "Yeah, I miss those days, too. Wish they would come back ..."

Second, was a desire to find something I can actually do to make the world a little bit better. You may have noticed that things aren't particularly fantastic on this planet right now (what with several active genocides, extreme weather disasters driven by manmade climate change, pollution and extermination and deforestation ravaging nature, a rise in rightwing ideologies across the globe leading to a resurgence in violent prejudices, mega-corporate exploitation causing the quality and length of life to decrease, AND studios keep canceling all the good shows while streaming services delete them). But I am only one man living below the poverty line. Which begged the question of what I really could actually do.

Third, numerous people in my life remark fairly frequently that I'm a funny, thought-provoking guy (why, yes, I shall toot my own horn, thank you kindly for the invitation to go off on an extended, jazz solo). That I've a talent for making others laugh and giving them something interesting or creative or even profound to consider.

Then one day (186 days ago, to be precise--I know with precision because I've kept a list of all the SGTs I've posed, and have managed to keep SGT running consecutively since then), all these synapses fired at the same time. And the ideas clicked together:

Tumblr wasn't going to change back on its own, and as they say, "Change starts with me." I had to be the change I wanted to see in the Tumblr world by sending asks myself (a bit like if you want to see more people reblogging art and commenting on fics and all that, you have to make sure you're doing it, too). Something I could actually do in the face of so much doom and gloom in the world was to use my talent for humor and profundity to spread some light-hearted, mind-engaging fun. At least in my own little corner of the world, as far out as I can reach. Like a single ray sunshine on a cloudy day, it might not change the overall weather, but at least it might make things a bit more bearable emotionally in the meantime for those who see it. It's a little thing, perhaps inconsequential ... but then again, perhaps not so inconsequential for the people who feel they have nothing. After all, we're a species that uses little things to survive hard times.

What is hope if not a little thing?

ANYWHO! For specific asks, inspiration comes from anything and everything. Whatever sparks an idea, I'll immediately try to make note of it to use later. It certainly helps that I not only can be silly with it, but am indeed striving to be silly with it. For silliness has infinite variety. That's why it might just save humankind.

Thanks again for the ask! And if you like the idea, feel free to take part in it. Copy-paste the question and ask others who you think might enjoy it, too. I certainly won't object to this rippling outward. Or send ones that you think up yourself. Why the heck not? Everybody could use some more light-hearted fun, right?

[sunflowerabyss]

Charms of Fate: Chapter 7

Paring: Remus Lupin x Fem!Professor!Reader

Series Masterlist

Plot: Amidst the echoes of a bygone era, you return to Hogwarts years after parting ways with Hogwarts. What begins as a journey fueled by nostalgia transforms into an unexpected reunion with Remus Lupin, now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As the past intertwines with the present, the two former classmates navigate the complexities of grief, the resurgence of friendship, and the unwritten chapters of their shared history in this tale of rediscovery and the magic that binds them together.

Warnings: none, I think, but let me know if otherwise.

__________________________________________________

As the night grew more tense, you found yourself in the Great Hall, surrounded by students who were sleeping there for safety. Some teachers patrolled the castle and grounds, eyes alert for any sign of Sirius Black. Amidst the hushed murmurs, you overheard Snape's irritating voice engaging in conversation with Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, I believe I mentioned something about my concern for a certain staff member," Snape insisted.

Dumbledore, calm and collected, cut him off. "Severus, no one has allowed Black inside the castle. We have measures in place to ensure the safety of everyone."

You couldn't help but smirk at Dumbledore's dismissal of Snape's concerns. The conversation continued, but you gazed up at the enchanted ceiling, depicting the night sky with the swirling Milky Way above. Your eyes focused on the moon, and thoughts of Remus filled your mind.

_____________________________________________________

On this heavily stormy day, you find yourself shivering from the cold as you watch the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff unfold. The atmosphere is tense, more so than usual, perhaps due to the recent events that transpired the night before. The game is chaotic, the broomsticks weaving through the turbulent winds, and the players struggling to maintain control.

Your attention is fixed on the two seekers, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, if memory serves correctly. They ascend higher and higher, disappearing behind the heavy and dense clouds. Many spectators have shifted their focus to the field, but you can't help but keep your eyes on the spot where the two young wizards vanished.

As you watch with a tight chest, a figure falls from the clouds—it's the Hufflepuff seeker. Panic sets in, but relief washes over you as he regains control of his broom, taking a moment to stop and recollect himself before darting back into the clouds. However, the sense of relief is short-lived as another figure plummets, seemingly unresponsive--it's unmistakably Harry. A collective gasp is heard through the stadium.

The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears as you watch, helpless. In the corner of your eye, you see Dumbledore standing up, his commanding voice cutting through the storm, "Arresto Momentum!" The incantation hangs in the air, a desperate plea to halt the fall and save a life. The entire stadium holds its breath, waiting for the spell's effect to unfold in the violent sky.

Cedric manages to seize the golden opportunity presented by Harry's fall. He dives skillfully, snatching the elusive snitch from the air. The Hufflepuff victory is bittersweet, as the primary concern lies with Harry's well-being.

Amidst the cheers and celebrations from Hufflepuff, you observe the Gryffindor house, witnessing the collective worry etched on their faces. The win seems hollow in comparison to the anxiety and concern for their friend. As a couple of teachers hurry onto the field to attend to Harry and take him to Madam Pomfrey, you can't shake the lingering distress.

Shaken by the Quidditch match, you hesitate before leaving the stadium. Near the entrance, you overhear Dumbledore and Minerva engaged in a hushed yet intense conversation about the breach of Dementors on the school grounds.

Dumbledore's voice resonates with fury, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. "Minerva, this is unacceptable. What is the Ministry thinking? How did Dementors breach the school's protective wards?"

Minerva, her expression a mix of concern and frustration, replies, "I'm not sure, I'm afraid."

You can't help but interject, stepping into the dimly lit corridor. "Dumbledore, what happened? Are the students in danger?"

Dumbledore, acknowledging your presence, sighs heavily. "It seems Dementors have infiltrated the school grounds. I will sort this out with Fudge immediately," Dumbledore's gaze flickers to you. "In the meantime, please do go get warm professors. The weather is quite nasty today."

You waste no time and quickly Apparate into your room, seeking the warmth of the crackling fire. After donning some warmer clothes, you decide to head to the kitchen for a comforting drink. To your surprise, you find Remus there, stealthily snatching a couple of chocolate chip cookies. He looks better than the last time you saw how, though he still looks tired. There's a warmth in his eyes as he turns to look at you, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

"Well, well, if it isn't the cookie bandit caught in the act," you tease, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

Remus chuckles, holding the pilfered cookies defensively. "Guilty as charged. It's just the perfect time for a little mischief, don't you think?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Mischief? Or just a craving for sweets?"

"Bit of both, perhaps," he admits, a playful glint in his eyes. "But the real question is, are you here to join me or report me to the cookie authorities?"

You feign consideration, tapping your chin. "Hmm, tough decision. I might need a bribe to keep this quiet."

Remus grins, extending the bag of cookies toward you. "Consider this your hush-money then."

Taking a cookie from the bag, you give him a mock stern look. "This better not become a routine escapade, Lupin."

"Oh, you have my word, dear," he says, winking. "Unless, of course, you want to join me in the glorious pursuit of evening snacks?"

With a laugh shared between you two, he gestures you to follow him.

You follow Remus to his office, where a dim glow emanates from the soft candlelight, casting shadows on stacks of papers marked with red notes and grades. Remus gestures for you to take a seat in one of the worn armchairs as he continues sorting through the scattered mess.

"Grading, I see?" you comment, your eyes scanning the sea of parchment.

Remus chuckles, taking a seat behind his desk. "Caught me red-handed. Needed a break, though. I can only stare at essays for so long before my brain starts protesting."

You join him, sipping on the hot chocolate you managed to conjure. "I understand. Half the time I think I just like to torture myself with the written work I assign."

Remus grins, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, the classic love-hate relationship with grading. I'm convinced every teacher has a secret stash of chocolate to get through it."

"I'm sure you're the only one who has a secret stash of chocolate, Remus."

You share a laugh, but the conversation takes a more serious turn when you bring up the incident with the dementors at the Quidditch game. Remus's expression shifts from amusement to shock.

"Dementors on the school grounds?" he exclaims, concern etched across his features.

You recount the chaotic events that unfolded during the match, emphasizing Harry's fall and the subsequent appearance of the dementors. Remus listens intently, his worry deepening with each detail.

"That's quite concerning," he says, running a hand through your hair. "Do you think Dumbledore is handling it?"

You nod. "He is. I talked to him and Minerva before I left. He said he was going to speak to Fudge as soon as possible. Still, it's disconcerting to think about dementors being so close to the students."

The office falls into an uneasy silence, the air thick with unspoken words. You can feel the weight of the knowledge you carry about Remus's lycanthropy pressing against your conscience. The internal conflict intensifies--part of you yearns to break the silence and reveal what you know, while the other hesitates, fearing the repercussions of such a revelation.

Breaking the tension, you finally speak, your voice carefully measured. "I haven't seen you around lately. Everything alright?"

Remus, ever the master of maintaining composure, flashes a reassuring smile. "Just caught up with work, you know how it goes. The life of a Hogwarts professor."

You take a moment, swirling the hot chocolate in your cup, contemplating your next words. "It's been a few days. How have you been?"

Remus leans back, attempting casual nonchalance. "Busy, busy. Grading, as you see, preparing for the next lesson."

Your gaze sharpens, and you pick up on the subtle nuances in his expression – a weariness beneath the surface, a hint of guardedness. The internal struggle intensifies as you decide whether to confront him or continue the charade. "Glad to hear it. DADA can be demanding."

He nods, eyes lingering on yours a fraction longer than usual, as if searching for something. "And how about you? Managing well?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating your next move. The tension hangs in the air, thick and palpable. The silence stretches, a heavy veil over the room, and in a sudden surge of resolve, you blurt out, "I know."

Remus, who had been maintaining a facade of casual conversation, tenses visibly. His eyes, once relaxed, now betray a flicker of apprehension. You watch as the lines of weariness deepen on his face, and a guarded expression settles in.

Remus, ever the master of composure, attempts to play it off with a forced chuckle. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he says, his voice straining to sound nonchalant.

But you interrupt him, your own voice steadier than you anticipated. "Don't," you assert, a mix of sympathy and understanding in your gaze. "You don't have to pretend with me, Remus. I've known for a while."

Remus looks at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. "How did you…?"

You give him a small smile. "Connected the dots. The disappearances, the potion from Snape, and then I heard he assigned an essay on werewolves. It all fell into place."

He chuckles, a bitter sound that echoes in the room. "Always the observant one, aren't you?"

Remus hesitates, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions evident on his face. He battles with the fear of rejection, the worry of burdening you with his lycanthropy, and the undeniable comfort of having someone who knows the truth.

You, sensing his inner turmoil, decide to bridge the gap. Gently, you reach out and take his hand. Remus is acutely aware of the stark contrast between your soft, small hand and his larger, calloused one.

"I was waiting for the right time to tell you," he admits, his gaze dropping to your intertwined hands. "I just never expected you to find out like this."

As Remus tenses, you look into his eyes with a reassuring gaze. "Remus, knowing about your condition doesn't change the way I feel about you. You're not defined by your lycanthropy."

He withdraws his hand, a defensive look clouding his expression. "You don't understand. I'm dangerous, a monster. You have no business being associated with someone like me."

You lean in, your voice unwavering. "Remus, you're not a monster. You're a kind, caring person, and I won't let your condition overshadow who you are."

Remus struggles with conflicting emotions, torn between his self-perception and your unwavering support. The weight of his secret begins to lift, yet the fear of rejection still lingers in his eyes.

Remus is silent for a moment, his gaze flickering with a mix of emotions. "I care about you more than I should," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't… I can't be with you the way I want. I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

In the quiet office, you reach out and gently cup Remus' face, your thumb brushing across his cheek. "You're not alone, you know," you begin. "There isn't a day that hasn't gone by where I don't worry about you. You don't have to carry this burden by yourself."

He looks into your eyes, vulnerability laid bare. A soft smile plays on your lips as you lean in, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. The moment lingers, a reassurance that transcends words. Remus, despite his reservations, begins to feel the warmth of acceptance and understanding, and for the first time in a long while, the weight on his shoulders starts to ease.