#THIS TOOK TWO DAYS TO WRITE

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[mipexch]

comic about v2 and the goal they'll never fully reach alongside a dissatisfying conclusion. intimate rivalry and all (alternative ending comic. V1 dies instead of V2 during 4-4. V2 is narrating. V1 is dead.)

[silentium-symphony]

Autumn-disiac (Link x Reader) SMUT

a/n: sorry i've been gone for awhile! here's some ~fun stuff~ to make up for lost time ;) i haven't really written anything in awhile, so please bear with me as i get back into the swing of things!

cw: minors dni, afab!reader, link going FERAL over his meal :), reader is just a sobbing horny mess LOL, praising, cunnilingus, overstimulation, porn w/o plot, christ what the hell did i write

wc: 595

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The return of autumn heralded many things. Those sick of summer's swelter happily traded in sweat-yellowed tank tops for cozy, chunky knit cardigans. Fur-lined pants and leaf-patterned smocks replaced rustic shorts, and other summer apparel was shelved for the next growing season. Mothers' calls for their children chime earlier and earlier, paralleling the harvest darkness that encroached sooner in the day. Heroic epics crafted from the day's play are often discarded at the door, forgotten, as children are embraced by their mothers first and the smells of her cooking second.

Beyond the intimate comforts of home lie the wilds, which have since been shadowed with deep magenta. A thin spray of mist rolled down the hills, carrying with it the softest hint of moved air. The breeze, chilled by the beginnings of the harvest season, lapped at a set of blurry windows fogged from within.

A tongue, moistened with your sweetness and honeyed with sinful whispers, dragged the edge of ecstatic muscle up and down your abused folds. A brittle sob erupted from your chest as you tossed sweat-pressed locks from your forehead.

"L-Link, we've been at this for hours..."

"I know, baby, I know. You're doing so well. Just one more round, okay? You know how much I need this sweet pussy."

Your beloved's sultry purr rumbled through your core, sending bolts of electricity through pleasure-numbed nerves. Calloused palms sunk into your soft, supple thighs as he urged you forward and back with a gentle sway.

"Mm... Rock your hips for me... That's it, that's it, love..."

The sounds of desperate suckling and pussy-drunk groans brimmed the air with sickeningly sweet depravity. The musk of hours-long sex perfumed your senses into a mindless, blissed-out mush, electrified only by the occasional flick of your clit or the teasing teething from the man below. Leaning back slightly, you rested your shaky arms atop Link's thighs, doing little to still his erratic and involuntary pistoning--a futile attempt to fuck the hole he was currently feasting.

"That's it, hun, lean on me. I'll take care of ya, promise."

That all-too familiar tension was mounting deep in your gut, threatening to spill over and drown the man underneath. Honed in on your tells, Link initiated a dangerous combo of tongue and finger, alternating between fucking and rubbing until your vision blurred with more tears and your throat burned with more pleas.

"Mm... You want it, yeah? Does my beautiful, perfect girl wanna cum for me? Hm? Wanna cum, baby?"

"P-Please...! Link, I'm so close, please let me cum! Please let me cum! Plea--!"

A burning white throbbed through your core, snapping the thread that dangled your last bits of sanity over the velvety abyss. A searing light, hot and addicting, temporarily blinded you as you felt yourself fall back onto a sticky body.

A loud cry buzzed through your subconscious as something hot and wet squirted all over your front, painting your tits and stomach with thick threads of white. Pleasure-stricken convulsions rocked his body as more heat spilled onto you.

No energy could be expended to bask in the final afterglow, your eyelids weighted by an exhaustion you had never known. Some shuffling, and soon, the hot stickiness on your back and front was cooled by a wet rag. What could vaguely be recognized as fingers combed through the undoubtedly sweaty, tangled bird's nest formed atop your head. Soft, lovestruck murmurs coming from your beloved hastened you quicker into slumber.

You could only hope he understood your gurgled hum as an 'I love you.'

(Don't worry, he did).

[rebrandedbard]

How does the great Sandpiper successfully smuggle 130 children out of the Nilfgaard-occupied territory of Hamm? With the power of a forgotten story, a traditional song, and a masterful lie.

A piece for my upcoming fic, The Piper of Hamm, based on The Pied Piper of Hamelin, next in my fairy tale series.

[catgrandpa]

I started this post with the intention of asking for fic recs where Bruce gets his kids early, but then I ended up just writing some ficlets

_(:3 」∠)_

I still really just want recs I swear but I wrote these anyway and am incapable of doing more with them so here

☆彡

Dick Grayson is 8 years old when he watches his parents die. Bruce is 24 years old when he sees a young boy’s life fall to pieces. He’s far too young to be a single father. But he sees too much of himself in the child, and he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to walk away from him.

He talks to Alfred about his fears of only furthering Dick’s trauma by failing him as a guardian. It takes some time, but Alfred is able to convince Bruce to find a therapist and take some discreet parenting classes. He’s still Batman, and I don’t think he’s capable of Gentle Parenting™ but he does do better. Plus, Dick is young enough to learn to read Bruce before the teenage hormones kick in so they manage to communicate much more effectively with each other.

☆彡

Bruce meets Catherine Todd by chance because there was a cool park Dick wanted to stop at. She’s trying to deal with her hungry and fussy 3 year old step son, but she’s young and stressed out and hungry herself and she just doesn’t know what to do. Bruce offers to take them out for lunch. He asks Dick to take Jason to the play area in the corner while they talk.

She breaks down and tells him of her struggles with addiction. She does her best to keep Jason fed, but it’s so hard. Feeding him means she goes hungry most of the time because she can’t quit using. Jason wouldn’t survive if she had to go through withdrawals with him.

He’s not even her kid! Not really. Her husband is just an abusive deadbeat so she doesn’t have a choice. She does love him, but she never wanted kids, and she can’t just let a child die when she can do something.

Bruce fills their fridge and cabinets to the brim (he offers to do much more for them but that’s all she will budge on. She has too much pride to accept outright charity, but she will do what she can to keep her kid safe) and he makes it clear to her that he is willing to take care of Jason for however long is necessary when she decides to take the first step to get clean.

Two months later, Willis gets arrested and Catherine shows up at Wayne Manor and tells Bruce she signed up for inpatient, but she thinks it would be best for Jason and for herself if Bruce would be willing to take permanent custody. She stays in Jason’s life, just not as a mother figure.

☆彡

A year or so later, Bruce gifts Alfred with a vacation as an early birthday present. Things have been hectic with the sudden acquisition of two sons, and Alfred has done so much, he deserves a break. Bruce promises he’ll be able to handle two kids on his own.

Turns out, he was mostly right, but only just barely. The kids are fine, the manor not so much. He ends up hiring a few services to help out with general housekeeping. A couple of those workers also happen to be regular hires for the Drakes.

Bruce overhears them talking about how sad it is that those awful people treat their toddler more like a doll than a child. He learns that not only do they leave for long periods at a time while not hiring a proper nanny to watch over their son, just expecting the help to take care of him, but they also lock him away on his own whenever it’s ’not fashionable’ to have a 2 year old around.

Alfred comes back to the manor on August 15th, just in time to celebrate his and Master Jason’s birthdays together. He opens the door and dodged around a very excited 4 year old jumping up and down in the entry hall.

“ALFIE! ALFIE! BOOSE GOT ME A BABY BWOTHER FOR MY BIRFDAY! LOOK! LOOK! HIMS NAME IS TIMMY AND HE’S THE BESTEST!”

Alfred leans over to peak behind the boy, and sees a very quiet, very small child standing behind him.

“Oh, dear.”

☆彡

The day Bruce got the call from Talia telling him she was pregnant with his child was one of the best days of Bruce’s life. The day she called to tell him she miscarried was one of the worst.

The only blessing was that he didn’t need to explain it to his kids. Talia was going to move in once she was in her second trimester, and they planned to reveal her pregnancy together.

He got the call two weeks before her flight out. He begged her to come anyway, he loved her, they could still be a family. She refused.

Six and a half months later, he walks into his bedroom to find Talia standing by the window with a squirming bundle in her arms. With equal measures steel and sorrow in her eyes she tells Bruce she is sorry for what she put him through, but it was the only way to keep their son safe. He gathers them both in his arms and holds them tight as she explains.

Her father had planned to raise an heir to be the Demon Head. He would be kept a secret from Batman until the very end. But when Talia gave the final push to birth their son, he came out quiet. She panicked for a moment until her midwife quietly leaned down to listen to the baby’s breathing and then looked up with a soft smile, she bundled up the small thing and handed Talia her baby. Big beautiful green eyes blinked up at her. The midwife leaned closer to Talia and whispered, “Sadly, your son was stillborn. I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but surely The Great Head of the Demon would be willing to allow you some time away from your duties while you recover.” Talia allowed the woman to cover her beautiful cooing baby gently with soft linen and silk and carry him from the room. Later that night she left her home with her son and boarded the first flight to Gotham.

Tears gather on Bruce’s lashes and he tells her everything will be alright because now they can finally be together as a family. Once more, she refuses. She tells him Damian and his boys are far too precious for her to bring the danger of the league of assassins to their door. Bruce closes his eyes in sorrow, but nods his acceptance. He asks her to at least stay the night together. They fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms with their baby boy safely bundled between them. Talia is gone when he wakes.

☆彡

It’s been one week since Talia left and, while still beyond upset, Bruce feels like he’s starting to have a decent handle on things. He is sitting with his boys at the breakfast table, Dick and Jason to his left, Tim to his right, Damian in his arms, and Alfred across from him. They’re finally able to have a relaxing breakfast. No babies crying, no food fights, no arguing, just the sounds of eating and gentle chatter.

He feels a small hand grab his right sleeve and give a gentle tug.

“Boo?” Tim asks, quietly. Bruce feels his heart warm at his son finally feeling like he can speak up without permission.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why isn’t Big Sister sitting with us?”

Alfred is the only person in the room other than Tim to not startle at the sudden appearance of a 5 year old girl standing next to Bruce at the dining table. He simply sighs, stands up, and grabs another place setting for her at the table.

[monowritestoomuch]

Riptide

Art belongs to @saixria

Notes: I said bet motherfuckers. Never doubt me. I always deliver, even if I end up taking a year (I’ve done that before, we all have) Count how many times I write divine, lmao. Regardless, enjoy this as I’m still locked out of my main writing account. Yes, my Hamilton fic is being worked on, don’t worry. They’re all being worked on. 

Another thing, I’m no doctor of medicine, so I apologize for any medical inaccuracies.

Foretime = yesterday (in context of the story)

Word Count: 2460

Athena sat in one of the many plush beds in Apollo’s infirmary upon Olympus, staring down at the scars on her hands. They resembled lightning, a strike in the night. 

Athena knew how many mortals had received similar scars upon being struck by lightning, but none had it as harsh as herself. The scars, gold in color, stretched out over her body, up her arms and around her neck, the phantom pain of the injury still residing in her memories. 

A shriek sounded down the corridor outside the room, followed by shouting in one voice. Apollo’s voice. He seemed to be scolding whoever it was that had appeared at the infirmary. Sure, Apollo was easy to startle, but to make him shriek like a child, which hadn’t happened in many centuries.

Athena listened as she heard something, likely a body drop on Apollo, likely driven to unconsciousness. She listened to Apollo struggle and drag the body down the corridor and into the main room of the infirmary, where Athena herself lay recovering. 

Apollo practically dragged the body in, his hair a dastard mess and stygian shadows creasing his under-eyes. He placed the body down on the bed beside Athena, allowing her to gaze on whatever poor minor god who had somehow incurred a wrath so great that they could not heal themselves in their domains. 

Athena’s eyes widened, her body freezing. The god in the bed beside her was no minor god. No, it was her uncle. Poseidon, God of the Seas. Golden ichor dripped from the numerous wounds that had graced his immortal body. The main injury, that dripped golden ichor ceaselessly, was several, repeated stab wounds to the stomach. Three different wounds all dripped in tandem, equal in their intensity and violent nature. The markings of a trident. 

With the profuse intensity the ichor-bleeding wounds held, Athena could only guess that it was Poseidon’s own trident that had injured him. But the question still remained prominent in her mind, who would be able to take Poseidon’s trident and injure him profusely so? Athena didn’t know, not yet, at least, and not while Apollo fervently fretted over their uncle’s unconscious body.

Golden ichor covered practically every inch of her uncle’s injured body, the subtle rise and fall of his chest the only small indication of life still relaying it’s gift onto him. 

Apollo’s hands glowed a soft white over their uncle’s body, the smaller wounds on his body closing, leaving the larger trident-stab-wounds still dripping golden ichor onto the infirmary bed. This, in itself, caused Apollo panic. Athena knew how powerful Apollo was, she knew how capable he was, and yet the stab wounds in his stomach wouldn’t heal, no matter how much Apollo tried, over and over again.

Eventually, Apollo realized he couldn’t heal the wound, for the injury was given by the divine weapon of another god, a god more powerful than Apollo himself. The injury would not heal divinely, so as it was caused by the divine weapon of a god, the god of the seas himself. 

With that being the case, he stitched the wound, spreading a nectar balm over the injuries, before wrapping them up and finishing the wrap around his stomach, going over his shoulder and past his long, dark hair. Another bandage wrapped his left bicep. His head lay heavy on the pale ivory infirmary pillows, his body tucked under the tawny sheets. 

Apollo heaved a heavy sigh, short-term relief echoing in it. He pushed back the long, wavy, golden locks of his hair, a sheer layer of sweat on his forehead, shining in the soft glow of sunshine that graced itself through the windows of the room. He turned to Athena, his shoulders adjusting accordingly. 

“How are you, Athena?” he asked, eyes fleeting between each of his injuries, covered in bandage wraps and nectar balm. “The’ pain any more fleeting than foretime?” he inquired. 

Athena met his golden-eyed gaze. “The pain is–manageable, Apollo,” she answered. Her shoulders evened out as she spoke. “I can return to my duties–” she started arguing once more, being interrupted again by her divine physician half-brother. 

“No, Athena. We’ve had this argument every single day since you’ve awoken from Father’s. . .punishment,” he paused, pursing his lips and crossing his toned arms. “I have told you many times over, it will be another few weeks until you will be able to regain your strength and return to your duties, and until then, you will rest,” he scolded. “I don’t want you trying to sneak out one of the windows like you have tried prior, you are not strong enough.”

Athena shuffled back into the pillows of the infirmary bed, her head pounding and nerves tensing. Apollo’s shoulders sagged as he walked over to the side of Athena’s bed, conjuring up a glass of golden brown liquid. He placed it on the bedside, a wooden straw sticking out of the drink. He sat himself on the oak wood stool beside the bed, elbows on his knees. 

“Understand me, Athena,” Apollo pleaded. “Father’s wrath is hard to incur, and when one does, it never ends well. Father is not one for mercy or peace, and he gets insulted very easily, sister. He was not kind when giving you those scars, scars that I myself cannot heal,” he paused, his chin resting on his tanned hands. “All I ask, all I plead, is that you rest and heal. You cannot heal if you’re dead, sister.”

The word brought a heavy chill over the room. Dead. Death, a mercy for mortals and pitiful minor gods. But Athena dying? It was unlikely and unheard of. The frigid word brought a shiver up her frayed-nerve spine. 

Apollo stood up, walking to the arched doorway and turning to face Athena. “Rest up, sister,” he spoke, the sun emblem on his chiton clasp shining in the sunlight. “-and drink the nectar, you need it,” he finished, walking out of the room and down the infirmary corridor, leaving Athena alone, privy to her own thoughts.

She picked up the glass, placing the smooth wooden straw to her lips as she gulped down the sweet nectar, for it tasted like nothing else ever divinely made, dare most say, more addictive and divine than Dionysus’s own godly wine. 

It had been a few hours since her uncle had arrived gravely injured to the infirmary, the rays of sunlight through the window becoming dimmer, indicating sunset. Athena read a book, her eyes patiently focused on the words, although it caused her mental strain. Headaches, a new feature of her Father’s divine punishment.

Her divine ears perked up as she heard groaning from beside her. The dark-haired figure beside her opened their deep blue eyes, pushing themselves up with a hiss of pain to sit back-facing the infirmary pillows of the bed. Her uncle was alive, and clearly awake, and pained. 

He clutched his stomach, the bandages over them wrapping tightly around his torso. He hissed as his own hand wrapped around his stomach, the bandages unmoving on his body. 

He blinked, taking in his surroundings as his eyes scanned the unfamiliar infirmary room, until they landed on Athena herself. 

“Uncle,” she greeted, closing her book and placing it on the side table. 

“Athena–where-?” he responded, clearly confused, if not surprised at the appearance of his niece, of whom had her right arm in a large wrap of bandages, scars covering every inch of visible skin, bandages over the others. A hand flew up to his lower chest, hissing at the pain moving brought him. “Right, that.”

“That?” Athena questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“I was. . .injured,” Poseidon stated,, avoiding facing Athena, looking her in the eyes as shame echoed in his body language. 

“No doubt,” Athena responded effortlessly. “But to whom caused your injury remains a mystery to be solved.”

“It is none of your concern, niece,” Poseidon admonished.

“On the contrary,” Athena stated blankly. “Considering whoever managed to bring you to your knees and stab you with your own weapon, it could be a threat to all of Olympus.”

Poseidon seemed surprised at first at how Athena knew what had stabbed him, but it quickly faded away to but a feeling of irking. But Poseidon knew better not to question his niece, the goddess of wisdom itself, further than he already had.

“I got into a fight, and I began with the upper hand in my own domain,” Poseidon started, his voice without waver. “Until my. . .opponent used one of Aeolus’s wind bags, releasing a storm of my own creation to be able to battle me, tying the bag to the back of his chiton.”

Now this surprised Athena. Why in Gaia’s name would Aeolus give out one of their precious wind bags to someone to beat Poseidon? And even if they didn’t know it was Poseidon, shouldn’t they have been wiser than to give one of their wind bags to someone? 

But alas, wisdom itself was Athena’s domain, not the wind god’s. 

“My opponent. . .he fought me with a simple sword, but somehow wielded the power of a god, able to defeat me using whoever’s power he had taken, sending the full force of power through. . .five-hundred vengeful spirits, knocking me down onto a small cluster of uneven rocks,” he continued, causing Athena’s eyes to widen. 

Of course a minor god couldn’t have beaten her uncle, that would be both improbable and impossible. But someone wielding the power of a god, a seemingly powerful god, from her uncle’s description, could surely stand a chance. 

“Then how did they get a grasp on your own trident, Uncle?” Athena questioned, noticing a gaping hole in the story her uncle was telling her. 

“Once I had been knocked down, it occurred to my. . .opponent that my storm had been released, leaving them unable to depart,” he continued, a lump rising in his throat as his voice filled with more and more rage. “So he told me to call off the storm, and when I refused, what did he do, you ask? He picked up my trident from where it had dropped. . .and proceeded to repeatedly stab me with it, while shouting.”

This, to Athena, meant many things. One, her uncle wasn’t as strong as she had previously believed him to be. Two, that whoever had the gall to fight him, had beaten him with his own weapon. And three, that her uncle was still withholding information from her on the matter.

“And how did you survive then? How did he stop?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

Poseidon stayed silent for but a moment before speaking. “I told him I’d stop the storm and allow him to go where he needed as he pleased,” he answered. 

Athena could tell he was still hiding something. Lying by omission. 

“And who exactly fought you–and won?” Athena importuned, face as emotionless as she could manage it. She cut him off before he spoke again. “-and if you dare say that ‘it does not concern me,’ it concerns the safety of Olympus, ergo, in turn, concerning me, Uncle.”

Her uncle was silent for many minutes before interrupting the tense silence. “A mortal man.”

“A mortal man?” The words blurted out of Athena’s mouth before she could think properly. 

“A mortal king, who caught me off guard,” Poseidon attempted to justify, but to no avail. 

Athena could perhaps imagine a monster or a god of equal caliber challenging her uncle, but a mortal man? Even if it was a mortal king, his opponent had still been mortal, and he had lost to a mortal.

“Who, precisely, of the mortal kings beat you, Uncle?” she asked, using a tone that left no room for argument.

Poseidon gritted his teeth, aware that he had been checkmated by his own blood. “You might know him as your own student, Athena,” Poseidon answered, disgust clear in his expression.”

Athena’s eyes widened once more. “Odysseus of Ithaca,” she murmured. How long it has been, old friend? Her thoughts asked traitorously.

It was clear Poseidon was embarrassed, both his ego and his pride wounded from the loss to the mortal king of Ithaca, to Athena’s own student. 

Although Athena hadn’t spoken with her student since their argument over a decade prior, but she couldn’t have been more proud of him.

“Pussy,” she thought aloud, the person in question being her own uncle. 

“What did you just call me?” Poseidon demanded, hands curling into fists. He scowled, the pain in his ribs increasing as his anger increased. Deep down, he knew Athena was right, and that there was no way to fight her at this stage. “I am no pu–”

Instead of cowering, Athena chose to stand her ground. To fight in favor of her old friend. “You lost to a mortal king, Uncle. A mortal. You have lost your touch.” She dared to utter the final words, well aware of her uncle’s bitter wrath. 

Poseidon’s expression changed to one of anger. “Why you little–!” 

“That is enough, Uncle,” a newer voice interrupted. 

Apollo. 

“You are not to strain your injury, so until your injuries are fully healed, an argument turned fight is not in your best interest,” Apollo stated threateningly. “Am I clear?”

“Of course,” Poseidon responded, not wishing to irk his own nephew, the one who had chosen to heal him with his divine gift. To anger Apollo in a part of his own domain would not be wise of him, Athena was sure of it. 

“Rest, both of you,” Apollo demanded tiredly, massaging his temples. “And don’t let me hear arguing from either of you or so help me–” His voice raised at the words, before cutting off abruptly, meeting eye contact with each of his patients before exiting the room.

Poseidon grumbled, laying down achingly back in the infirmary bed, facing away from his niece. He mumbled something so quiet, Athena herself couldn’t hear it, as he adjusted the blanket over his body. 

Athena faced away from him, smiling to herself. For she could not have been prouder of her student–no, her friend. 

Before Athena succumbed to the gift of Hypnos, she remembered how she had been visited by Ares the prior day. He had promised her that he had kept an eye on her favorite little mortal. 

“Don’t worry sis, I’ll take good care of your favorite little mortal. Don’t you worry!”

She should’ve been wary of her brother’s enthusiasm.

Athena never expected Ares to help her, because of their due past. But despite their well established rivalry, he cared enough to help her friend. That alone, made her smile warmly, something she had not done for anyone in mere centuries, as she drifted off to Hypnos’s divine rest. 

Tag list: (none yet, but let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[angelizs]

[Club Activities - part 2]

Summary: Crowley keeps knocking at your door, quite literally, wanting to hear your club choice. You might as well get this over with.

Notes: gn!reader, humor, it's kinda long, reader is oblivious, mentions of minor injuries but in a funny way dw, it's the looong overdue pt2

Part: 1.0 / 2 (you're here!) / 2.5 (soon!)

"So, have you decided?"

Crowley stands by the doorway. He looks completely normal, a pleasant smile plastered on his lips. You blink, sluggish, resisting the urge to slam the door on his face.

"It's five a.m. on a sunday."

"Yes, that's correct, good to see you're keeping up with the passage of time."

You feel there's a jab aimed at you for taking your time on choosing a club. Or on answering the door. In your defense, Grim was sleeping on top of you and you didn't want to disturb his sleep. Nor yours. You were hoping the Headmaster would just give up and leave you alone, but instead he only knocked louder. 

"Well?"

"Uh..." You take a bit to remember the first thing he said. "No, I still have some meetings to go to."

"Were the sports clubs not to your liking? I'm sure you'd do well in one, should you put your efforts on it."

"Nah, I'll pass."

"I see. Then, you'll tell me your decision by the end of the week, yes?"

"Since when did we agree on this." It was a question, but with your drowsy state it just fell flat.

"Since now, of course! I was very kind to let you take so much time to chose a club, but you must understand I'm under some pressure as well to make sure you'll have the best possible education here. We can't afford to lose too much time!"

You blink again, your brain still sleepy. "Oh. Alright."

Crowley claps his hands in an excited manner. "Wonderful! I'll be eagerly waiting for your decision, then!"

Only as you watch his retreating back getting farther away that it finally registers just what you agreed on. You groan, closing the door and leaning against it.

Well, nothing to do about it now. You should really get onto it, anyway. Still, your break will be missed.

Film Research Club (Vil, Ortho platonically)

You had finally left the sports clubs behind, time to try something new, like arts!

Since you've worked with Vil at the SDC, you were already used to his strict personality and thought you'd be able to handle yourself pretty well. You might not have that much experience with acting but you did know how to pretend everything was ok and your life wasn't falling apart, so you think you might have potential.

It was quite surprising to see Ortho there, but the sight of your friend's welcoming eyes and cheer made you feel relieved, relaxing amidst the Pomefiore students. They were intimidating, though in a different way the guys from the Spelldrive club were. The latter looked like they could easily beat you to a pulp, while the former looked like they'd give you a disgusted stare and call you a peasant in such a condescending tone you'd implode on spot. They were all very pretty as well, but you wouldn't let that make you self conscious since you knew no one could beat Vil anyway.

Speaking of, Vil himself comes to speak with you and explain about the club with a professional conduct as he says that Crowley had warned him of your special situation and that he'd let you help out, since they always needed extra hands on deck. You got hopeful at that, perhaps it was time for you to shine and discover a hiden talent of yours! These daydreams are soon crushed as Vil puts you on backstage duty and turns around, having something or other to talk about with the other members.

Well. That was... not what you were expecting. Ortho explains that in order to enter the club as an actor, you must audition beforehand and prove yourself worthy. That makes sense, you guess, so you accept it with grace. Backstage work might not be as exciting as being on the actual stage, but you had Ortho by your side to make sure things won't be too dull. And a side of you wants to make Vil proud of your work, so you suck it up and ask Ortho to lead the way.

Ortho shows you around the set you'll be working on for the day. It's one of Pomefiore's dorm ballrooms, and it's huge. You look in awe at everything, even though it's a bit plain in terms of furniture, it's quite detailed. In moments like this you remember Pomefiore's dorm is a castle, as you feel the royalty emanating from the ceiling, with it's luxurious chandeliers, to the walls, with it's intricate golden patterns, even at the floor, by it's quality.

He teaches you how to operate the lights and sound for a bit while the actors decide on what they'll film that day. You feel just the tiniest bit of jealousy at them, especially because Vil seems to be very focused on everything they say. Ortho must notice this (of course he would), and tries to cheer you up. After all, you're his friend! He doesn't want you to feel bored at the club when there are so many insteresting things to do!

You move from the more technical parts and go to the storage room, where they keep most of the props and extra accessories. You explore it, looking at everything but not touching, not wanting to get in trouble if you break anything on accident. As you're looking at an old mirror, Ortho picks up one of the pink cowboy hats and puts it on your head. It looks goofy, not matching with your uniform at all, and it makes you laugh.

You retaliate by putting a pirate hat full of colorful feathers that's way too big on him. It slides down and covers his eyes, making him look like a little kid trying on their sibling's clothes. Not to mention the feathers, that also clash with his body's design. You both laugh and go to different directions, trying to find more things to put on.

Ortho ends up with a vivid red sash wrapped around his waist and a wooden rod in hands, while you've got a pink feather scarf around your neck and a hollow steel rod in hands. You stare down at each other from your sides of the room, pretending you're on one of those western cowboy movies, even acting like it too. You drawl out something about the town not being big enough for the two of you. Ortho goes along, putting up the worst pirate accent with his robotic voice and telling you to prepared to be boarded.

Between giggles, the two of you meet at the middle, your rods clashing as if they were swords. You make exaggerated moviments that would be impratical in any fight while dropping the most cliche lines you can think of. Ortho dodges your attacks in slow motion and retributes with his own, making it seem more like some funny dance than a sword fight.

You were having so much fun you kind of forgot you were there to do a job. You're quickly reminded as the door suddenly opens and you, startled, let the steel rod slip from your hands mid attack and hit the wall with a loud clang. There stands Vil, hands on his hips as he stares at the two of you with one arched eyebrow, an unimpressed look on his face even after almost being hit right on it. You're not looking the most dignified, with your whole attire. Nor is Ortho, which helps you to not feel alone on the receiving end of Vil's judgment.

The three of you leave the props behind and return to the main area. More precisely, to the actors' dressing room part. It's not an actual separate room, but rather a space of the ballroom reserved for this. Most have put on their costumes and are adjusting the finer details, Vil instructs you to help them while he sets up the stage.

You try your best, but every actor sends you a glare as you approach them, making you turn on your heels and try another one. And another. And another. You're not feeling very helpful. How you wish you could just ignore it like Ortho does. The only thing you actually do is helping zip up some clothes when they can't reach their backs and do it themselves. You don't dare to touch their hair or you feel they'd explode you with their minds. There is one instance when you have to lace a guy into a corset, but you get a bit confused with all the laces. Maybe it's like tying a shoe? You pull on it with too much force at first, leading him to complain at you the entire time. In your defense, you've never done this before! You tie it up with a cute lace at the end to make up for it and scurry away before he could release more of his wrath upon you. You settle on following Ortho around like a lost puppy.

Finally, everyone finishes up and you move to the middle of the room, where the scene will be taking place. From what you gather, the movie they are making is about a royal family that's having their heir assume the throne, but there's a plot against him going behind the scenes. The main character seems to be corset guy, who still glares at you whenever you pass by his camp of vision, much to your (un)luck.

Ortho leads you to the first place he showed, since they'd start recording soon. You watch him work with the lights, turning them on dramatically as they start the scene and making it follow the main lead as he monologues about his woes of assuming such a big responsability and how he feels between the sea of people present. The actor does a good job, good enogh to appease Vil, who watches attentively near the camera. The thing is, he's trying to replicate a foreign accent and that, combined with his melodramatic lines, makes you have to stifle a laugh.

You try your best to stay quiet and pay attention to the story, but some of the lines and the way they dramatically deliver them sound so silly you can't help but giggle in your palm. Ortho looks at you inquisitively, tilting his head and trying to understand what you found so funny. You whisper an explanation to him, making him see the words in a different manner. As you laugh, he laughs along discretely, both of you having fun again.

Vil motions for you to keep your volume down, as to not disturb the actors and break their concentration, and you send him a thumbs up. Still, you keep on reacting, even mouthing their words with exaggerated facial expressions. Ortho seems much more interested in what you have to show than the lights, since he misses some of his cues and gets it later or sooner than intended. Which is also funny, since the confused looks on the background actors' faces are very entertaining. 

It comes to a point in which you're holding in your laughter so much you're a bit out of air, and you end up bumping into one of the controls, making the background music change suddenly, from a calm waltz to an action scenesque one. Your startled eyes meet Ortho's, and in true friendship fashion you both burst out laughing. Vil cuts the filming and strides up on you two, reprimanding you once again, and you feel like a guilty puppy being scolded by their owner. You must look like that too, since he sighs like an overworked mother and takes pity on you, deciding on something else for you to do and leave Ortho to do his job without distractions.

Vil gives you the role of an extra to play, just for you to have an idle conversation with the protagonist that won't last even five minutes. He shows you exactly how the scene should go, taking hold of your hand to conduct a dance and dropping casual chatter with you, looking you in the eyes, with a conduct that's so charming you're sure you feel your heart skip a beat (too bad it's just acting though). You feel like you can do that as well, so you hurry to change into one of the formal outfits and repeat the line Vil told you over and over again in your head, heart beating way too fast.

There is just one thing you didn't count on: you apparently have a bad case of stage fright. Or perhaps it's happening especifically because you know Vil will be watching you like a hawk. As you position yourself amidst the other extras, you feel your heartbeat accelerating and your hands start to sweat. You try to relax your tense shoulders and clear your throat, looking at the floor to steady yourself.

As your cue approaches, you move closer to the corset guy, whose attention snaps at you as soon as you enter his vision field. Even if his face looks polite, like a prince, you can feel the glare he's still sending your way, just on a more subdued level this time. You can also feel the stares of the others on your back and your tongue seems to have been tied. Your head comes up with a blank when you try to remember what Vil told you to say. Oh, this is not good. Why did this have to be so nerve wracking?

Time passes slowly, seconds feels like hours as the protagonist waits expectantly for your words. Trying to not disappoint, you blurt out a joke improvisation line, like the ones you see on movies sometimes. Unfortunately, your sense of humor is vastly different from Pomefiore's students', and the joke falls so flat everyone has to take a moment to recover. You wish for the ground to swallow you as Vil yells a "Cut!" and the other actors look judgmentally in your way. Maybe if you close your eyes it will go away? You can still hear the other's whispering, and although you don't understand what exactly they're saying, you can only guess they're mocking you. Welp, guess it's time to become a hermit at ramshackle and never show your face at school ever again!

It takes only a minute, but as soon as Vil has recomposed himself he commands everyone to be quiet. You open your eyes again, gathering all your courage to see the disappointed look on his face, but you're surprised that's not what greets you. Instead, Vil's got a nasty glare that's sharp enough to cut a man, and it's not directed at you at all! Vil procceds to reprimand the rest of the cast for being so inelegant as to make fun of a begginer and even mocks their need to feel superior. You've never felt more grateful for him in your life, maybe you can still go to classes after that, since no one will dare to mess with you and risk his wrath.

As the others look ashamed for being yelled at by their leader, Vil pulls you aside and tells you that maybe it's better to try something else if your stage fright is going to affect your performance so much. He sounds strict as always, but he has an almost soft look in his eyes as he congratulates you for trying to overcome that fear and that you did well enough for someone with no experience. You feel a lot better after that and thank him sincerely, promising to give it your all at whatever other job you can do to help! He smiles at your enthusiasm and it's as if the clouds have parted ways for the sun to shine. (The other club members look amazed, as they've never seen such a soft smile on Vil's face before.)

He then asks you if you know how to work with a camera. If taking pics with Cater to post on Magicam counts then yes, you do have some experience with it. Vil says he's got the perfect job for you: being part of the camera crew and helping to film everything. You accept, after all, how hard can it be, really?

Apparently, a lot. Vil had just left out a little detail from this job: you'd be filming the aerial angle of this scene. Which meant using Kalim's magic carpet. As you recall, you're not the most adept at riding it, flashbacks from winter vacation entering in your mind. Still, you had promised Vil you'd help on this, and you weren't sure if he'd find you another thing to do or get your complaining the wrong way, so you decide to give it a try anyway.

You wobble on it, camera propped up on your shoulder and secured by a sling strap just in case you losen your hold on it. (Which is very likely). Surprisingly, you manage to get the carpet off the ground without many complications, so things are looking up (quite literally)! And then comes the part where you have to guide it and you're almost thrown out of a window with the force it makes a turn. Your grip on it tightens and you try to wrestle it into submission, with little success.

Things procced like this, you trying to learn how to drive the carpet while making turns on the air and holding on for your life. (And making sure the camera is safe. You don't want a repeat of the chandelier accident from the start of the year, so you're not taking any chances). Anything you might have tried to film is probably so shaky and blurry it isn't even usable, but you have more important matters to worry about.

That goes on until you make a particularly sharp turn, causing the carpet to lose control and go spiraling straight to the floor. Luckly, you manage to land on a convenientely placed couch (has that been there before?) and doesn't get much hurt. You're clutching the camera to your chest in a protective manner, so it isn't damaged either. At least, not much, but it isn't anything the Ignihyde guys can't fix.

Vil and Ortho are by your side in an instant, asking if you're alright. Vil extends his hand and pulls you up like a gentleman, fixing your hair softly. He's really close to your face and you can feel your heart beating faster, though you're not sure if it's due to that or the adrenaline of the fall. Ortho reassures you that not even him got the hang of piloting the carpet, as it seems to only actually obey Kalim, and that you did your best!

You really did try, so you can safely say you won't discover any hidden acting talent any time soon. Time to check out other clubs. 

(Ortho tells you to drop by another time at practice and watch the recording with him, since he had a lot of fun! Vil tells you that should you wish and work hard for it, you may have potential and he'd be willing to help you reach it. You agree, since it was very nice to visit and, most of all, to get to see Vil on his element like this. There's an added bonus of you not having ended up at the infirmary as well, which is enough to put the club on a positive light in your books. It's a bit sad that's the standard, but oh well, nothing to do about it.)

Science Club (Trey, Rook)

Alright, art may not be for you, but maybe science is! Or... whatever it is that they do in this club.

It's a bit intimidating since there are way too many people there, more than you've seen in any other club. What could they possibly be doing to attract this many people?

Rook, as observant as ever, notices you before you've even set foot inside the lab, coming close to greet you and ask if you were going to join them for the day. You relutanctly agree, staying close to his side as he leads you deeper into the room, opening the path. You make sure to not bump into anyone and cause an accident.

Trey is at one of the work tables at the back, sharing it with Rook. He sends a calming smile your way and explains that it's a club with a vast variety of activities, as long as they're not of the physical sort. You sigh in relief, listening to him reciting things such as plant cultivation and chemistry experiments. You already have to do those things on your regular classes, so you're confident in your ability of succeding for once. Rook adds that this flexibility in activity has attracted many people, creating a beauté diversity of members. (Trey explains that there's a lot of odd people as he side eyes Rook).

You sit with them, since you don't know anyone else. Rook goes on about the experiment he'll be doing this time, something that will leave a beautiful impact and stay on the mind of anyone looking. It sounds a lot like what happens when you partner up with Ace and Deuce at alchemy class, that is, stuff is about to be blown up. You scoot closer to Trey.

Taking pity on you, Trey reminds Rook that there's an ingredient missing, since they had used all from the lab's storage on their last class, and offers to get it at the botanical garden for him, inviting you to come along. You jump at the opportunity, agreeing and getting up to follow him. Rook thanks his generosity and explains that there's no way a gentleman like him would leave all the hard work onto the two of you, so he follows along. Trey looks a bit annoyed, but you only wanted to get out of being roped into a crazy experiment so you don't mind much, as long as you keep Rook away from any potential explosive plants.

The fresh air from the gardens is much better than the stuffy feeling from the crowded lab, and you take a deep breath to appreciate it. Trey takes you to the temperate zone, the path filled with beautiful flowers of all colors and scents. The sound of the little river below you only adds to the pleasant atmosphere, the sun rays warming up your skin and soul. It's wonderful. You'd like it if your club classes were to take place there. It might be enough to convince you to join, the nature so full of life energizing your mood, a smile blooming on your face.

You pass by an area that has thicker vegetation and stands out from the whole, attracting your curiosity, so you ask Trey what could be there. He warns you to not wander to that side of the garden, as there were carnivorous plants being cultivated by the third years. You wave him off, saying you had those back in your world and they were pretty harmless. Trey looks at you in doubt, but decides to not question it, aceptting your answer and going back to his search for the missing ingredient. 

Since you have no idea what you should be looking for, you leave the boys to it, deciding to observe the flowers instead. Distracted, you end up getting farther away from them, the flora enticing you and putting you under a spell, demanding your attention. It's not until you bump into a tall... something, that you realize how far you had gone. You lift up your head, wondering if you had bumped into a tree, only to find two open hinged lobes dripping with sap closing on your face.

A scream gets caught in your throat as you take in the gigantic carnivorous plant in front of you, that's only coming closer. You didn't know that when Trey had mentioned them, he didn't explain that they aren't like the one from your world at all. Not only were they huge, but also seemed ready to eat a human at any given chance.

You're pulled by someone behind you, falling into a secure chest and feeling strong arms embracing your waist as the plant's jaw's close into the air where you were just a second ago. The sigh you let out shakes your whole body and you let your weight be supported by your saviour. You find out his identity soon enough, as a familiar voice by your ear calls you chéri and asks if you were fine.

After thanking Rook, he guides you to the main area of the garden with a protective hand behind your back, making sure you wouldn't stumble into any more potential dangerous plants, as he goes on about how they were "the hunters of the natural world" and how "such danger has it's own alluring charm, non?" You don't catch the glint in his eyes as he asks the question, too busy trying to get your heart beat back into a normal rhythm. 

Trey scolds you lightly for ignoring his advice, but he seems busier trying to equilibrate the plants he harvested in his arms and glaring at Rook, probably for leaving him alone to do all the work. Rook stays unbothered, putting his hands on your shoulders and staying close as he directs you to the exit, his usual smile stamped on his face.

As you put the fresh ingredients near the others that Rook had selected earlier, you notice some strawberries in the mix. You shot a questioning stare at Trey, making him laugh and explain he took the chance to harvest some of his hand grown special strawberries. He takes some from your hands, brushing your fingers together before lifting them up to inspect closely. The strawberries are a beautiful shade of red, making you salivate only by looking at them. Trey has a contemplative expression as he murmurs he should use them as soon as possible in order to make the best use of their ripeness.

You suggest him to make a strawberry tart with them and offers your help, on the light price of getting to eat it as well. He smiles and agrees to your proposal, telling you to follow him to the kitchens. You do, happily so as you carry some of the strawberries in your arms, leaving Rook to take care of the potions experiment. Really, you feel like you've killed two birds with one stone, so you pat yourself on the back for doing a good job.

Back at the first month of classes, you remember cooking with Trey, Ace, Deuce and Grim, and how much fun you had, despite the circumstances. With the group reduced to two, it might be more toilsome, but you were confident it would be worth it.

Trey finds an extra apron for you, tying it himself to make sure it would stay in place. He gently explains the steps to prepare the ingredients, helping you whenever you didn't understand something. It was quite nice, seeing Trey look so in his element, an unconscious soft expression on his face, as if he was enjoying himself. It's domestic, even, how you dance around each other in the kitchen, passing bowls and cutlery back and forth. He is good humored as he recalls stories from the club, making you laugh whenever he bemoans Rook's experiments.

The stories he tells are very captivating, so much so that you don't look at the recipe book, doing the steps on automatic. Once or twice you almost spill what you were mixing or use too much force to cut something, but it's salvageable every time, so you don't comment on it. You leave the crust on the oven for a bit too much, but it's only slightly charred, so you're pretty sure it's still edible. One of the flour bags slips from your hands and falls on the sink, covering your face in flour powder. Trey helps you clean up, but he's laughing at you and your now white hair. It comes to the point in which you're mixing the crème pâtissière and you get too close to the stove, making the ends of your sleeves to catch on fire. Trey quickly puts it out and runs your arm under cold water. The crème ends up a bit too lumpy, since neither of you were stirring it for a while, but it's not too bad.

Alright, maybe you're not the best at cooking. Still, arranging the strawberries in a circle on top of the tart was pretty fun. The last thing left to do is to let it cool. You lick your lips thinking about eating it once it's ready. You're about to help Trey clean the mess you've made in the kitchen when Rook bursts through the door, looking excited. He tells you there's no time to explain and takes you by the hand, dragging you back to the laboratory. You send Trey your best regards and wish him luck in cleaning everything alone. He sends you a pitying look back.

You should wish yourself some luck as well, since the motive for Rook to have brought you to the lab was for you to help him with the new formula he thought for his experiment. He explains that the one he was trying didn't have it's desired effects, as you could clearly see from the scorch marks on the table you were sitting before. He says that for the new formula, he'll need help to get the ingredients prepared and handed over, since he couldn't stop stirring it until everything was added in. You don't know how he came up with this solution, and honestly? You don't want to know.

Having no other choice, you agree to help him. He reminds you to put your gloves and safety googles on before starting, making a comment on how your cute apron would do as your lab coat. After getting into place, you follow all of Rook's instructions, preparing and handing over the ingredients he asks for. You have no idea what it is that he's going for, as your potions classes are still on a basic and more theorical level, but you decide to trust that he, as your upperclassman, knows what he's doing.

Dread pools on your gut as you watch the ingredients going into the cauldron. There's a hissing sound and bubbles emerge from the deep purple concotion. You have no time to react as Rook thows his arm in front of you just in time for the explosion to take place. You grip onto the table tightly and manage to stay upright, thanking the Sevens for your safety googles. If it were not for them, your entire face would be covered in a sparkling purple powder, some getting into your hair as well. Rook laughs and tells you that you shine bright like the sun. You look on unamused. Trey appears, having heard the explosion, and sighs, clearly being too used to this happening. He tells you and Rook to clean up as he starts to clean your mess, bless him.

Rook takes you to the nearest bathroom available, both of you trying to wash the explosion's results off. It has stuck like glue, and you have to splash your face with the cold water over and over for it to go away. You think there's still some of it on your hair, but can't bring yourself to care much. The apron wasn't enough to cover your body, so your clothes weren't spared either. Rook doesn't comment on it, but you can see him looking at you funny by the corner of your eye.

As you enter the lab, you see that the students that stayed after the first explosion had left. Rook wonders out loud on why they didn't like the innovation of his experiment, sighing as he goes on about the beauty of curiosity. You and Trey exchange glances as you clean everything together. You feel like you stayed way past the club's scheduled time and your arms hurt from moping the floor. At least you get to share your wonky strawberry tart. It doesn't taste as good as Trey's usual ones do, but you like it. You can't decide if it was worth all the trouble though.

Grim laughs at you once you get back to Ramshackle, your face is itching for the rest of the day, there's some sparkles in your hair for the rest of the week, your slightly burnt arm won't stop aching, you sent your clothes' laundry bill for Rook to pay. As much as you respect scientific advances, you feel that being involved in the research isn't for you (nor the cooking). Time to check out other clubs.

(Rook keeps approaching you at the halls to update you on how he's thought of possible changes to make the potion work. Trey comments he liked having company in the kitchen and help for cleaning up for once. They aren't very subtle. You don't even have to agree to visit the club again another time, as Rook has already volunteered you as his lab assistant and Trey has gifted you a recipe book with markings on which recipes you'll try to bake next. Guess you have no other choice but to go back now.)

Pop Music Club (Cater, Kalim, Lilia)

And back to the arts you go. But this time, instead of performing, how about playing some music? Joining the school band might be fun!

You're surprised to only find three people in the club. All the others had a bunch of people, but in this one, once you enter the classroom you're met with three of your friends hanging out in a couch. Why was there a couch in this classroom in the first place!?

It's not just three random people, either. It's the chillest and most extroverted people of the school, the ones that got along with everyone and were very popular. They whip their head so fast to the direction of the door once you enter you get a little worried for their necks. They seem elated to have a visitor, so you suppose this won't be so bad, even if you don't feel confident enough to play an instrument in front of other people.

Kalim jumps at you and envelops you in a big hug, a smile shining on his face as usual. Lilia pats you on the back, pushing you closer to the center of the room and welcoming you. Cater takes out his phone and takes a selfie with everyone, declaring it would go viral to have the cutest people of the school all together in one place and gushing over how many likes he'd get. They sure are a lively bunch.

Lilia plops you down on the couch, telling you to feel at home and winking. There's a center table with food containers in front of you, Kalim offers you a bite, explaining they made the snacks to bring to their club meetings, and Cater proposes to make it a culinary competition, in which you'd judge which one was the best. You were pretty sure you had left the cooking behind at the science club, what did it even had to do with music? Well, you weren't going to complain about getting free food!

Cater insists you try his first, a round tupperware with fried corn tortilla chips and guacamole in a dipping bowl at the center. It looks amazing, making your mouth water a bit. You take one of the chips, lightly lower it on the dip and take a bite. It's overall very good, the consistency and the crispness are wonderful, there's just one little problem: it's very spicy. Very spicy. Not the "oh no there's a tiny bit of spice in my otherwise bland food" type but the "my eyes are burning my thorat is burning my stomach is burning I'm going to burn from the inside out" type. And that's how you feel as you fan your face and drink the water Kalim brings you, though it only makes the burning worse, spreading it throughout your mouth and making your eyes water. Lilia appears upside down, hanging from the ceiling and scaring you, and offers you a glass of milk instead. You gratefully take it and chug it down as quick as you can.

Once you've calmed down, Lilia explains how he keeps milk around for Cater's food, that's way too spicy for his liking. Cater looks at you with puppy eyes, asking if you liked the chilli peppers he added to the recipe. You didn't, not really. It would be one thing to add some, sure, but it's like there's more pepper than anything else. You weakly smile at him and explain apologetically that it might not suit your tastes so much. Cater seems a bit down, but he only shrugs and jokingly says that not everyone can have good taste.

Kalim bounces up to you next, shoving his container in front of your face and telling you to try it. He proudly says he made it all without Jamil's help and that he hopes you'll like it. You look at the fried dumplings, remembering it's a sweet called awameh. It looks good as well, although a bit burnt, nothing that would stop you from eating it. You take one, getting surprised by how crunchy they ended up being, the sweetness exploding in your tongue. It would be very good, but you have the impression Kalim must have used the wrong measure of the ingredients. Yes, it was sweet, but it was way too sweet. Not only that, the sugar mixed with the cinnamon on the syrup also left you thirsty, as you downed another cup of water. It was like cinnamon was impregnated on your mouth, there was definetly too much.

While you accept your tongue will never be the same after the combo of strong flavours, Kalim reveals he tried to follow one of Jamil's mom's recipes for it, declaring it to be the best he's ever proved. He just got a bit confused when taking the measures for some ingredients, but he was proud of his work! You make a mental note to try to eat one of Jamil's awameh later, sure that it would taste delicious, and compliments Kalim on his efforts, suggesting gently to ask for help next time he has trouble with it.

The last one is Lilia, and you start dreading what might be hidden on his container. He seems preppy that someone will get to try his food, telling you that he's the one that cooks dinner at Diasomnia and how Silver and Sebek love his food. Cater and Kalim look at you with pity, shaking their heads. You've heard of Lilia's infamous cooking skills before, so you have to mentally prepare yourself before looking at what he prepared. It's... uh... something alright. Though it's unrecognizable, a dark glob that just looks sticky and burnt after the point. Your desperate look does nothing for Cater and Kalim to try to save you, as they look away furtively.

Aceppting your fate, you take one of the spoons Lilia brought and take the smallest bite possible while he stares at you attentively. It tastes foul, as expected, as if something had died in your mouth. You resist the urge to gag, trying to go for a smile and ending up with a grimace instead. It's horrible, there's no other way to describe it. All the rumors don't do it justice, it's way worse than what they say. You suspect you will get food poisoning later, as you down another glass of water. At least you're keeping yourself hydrated. Lilia seems to either not notice or pretend he didn't, as he keeps his cheery attitude and asks if you liked it. You nod weakly, hoping it would be enough for him to not force you to take another bite. He mercifully looks satisfied with the answer and you sigh with relief.

In the end you tell them you don't know which one was the best (you side eye Lilia's, thinking on how you knew which one was the worst at least). They don't look disappointed, content in having you prove their food as each munchs on their own snacks happily. You wonder how they manage to do it. Suddenly you miss Trey's baking and the wonky strawberry tart you've made.

As everyone sits together, Cater puts on some electropop song on the background that reminds you of the famous vocaloids from your world. You have an epiphany that Cater would listen to Hatsune Miku. You're not sure what to do with that information, staying quiet in shock as the other three talk between themselves. You remember him mentioning something like it when you went to do the SDC auditions, but you had other things to worry about and it must have slipped your mind. Once you've recomposed yourself, you ask what the food had to do with music, since the question had been burning in your mind for some time (not as much as your tongue burned tho).

They explain that the pop music club doen't really do much music, as the name suggests, they mostly just hang around to chat and chill. It has gotten them in a bit of trouble with the Headmaster, as they don't do anything that could actually be considered a club activity, causing him to have threatened to disband the club. Not to mention there's no new members for a while, no matter how much they try to attract more students. You consider joining this one just to spite Crowley. They clarify that they do play their instruments every once in a while to cover some song, but with their different music tastes they never reach an agreement on what to play most of the time.

You're curious on how they might sound as a band, sure it would be a chaotic but entertaining sight. You would ask to see this, if it was not for Cater excitedly declaring it's "gossiping time". They put on elevator music to play at the background and huddle close together, leaving a spot open for you to join their little circle, as if you were about to be in into the school's secrets. And that's exactly what happens, as the three of them seem to know about everyone and everything that goes on Night Raven College. There's so much drama you've never heard about, and you feel you know way too much about the lives of people you've never even met, but it's nice to create conspiracy theories about what would happen next in the soap opera that was other people's lives.

The topic changes to Magicam, since you were lowkey stalking the boy that had caused a ruckus in the cafeteria the past days. Cater likes his account's aesthetic, saying it passes the bad boy vibes he has, and whines about their club's magicam page. You weren't aware they even had one, so you ask to see it. It's... not what you were expecting. They might as well not have an account, since there are no photos other than their icon, which was the symbol of the club. Cater complains that they couldn't come to an agreement on how the page should look and were too lazy to try to work something out, so it has stayed like that for months.

Since you know how much he cares about this stuff, you offer your help! After all, it could be a lot of fun, and it'd feel as if you're the manager of the club. Cater lightens up with joy, throwing his arms around you and bringing you close to affectionately rub his cheeck on the top of your head, thanking you for being such a prestative underclassman. You enter your business mode, thinking on how you could go about this. It makes sense to promote the club doing something other than hanging out, so you tell them to pick up their instruments and pose.

You go around them and try many different angles. Kalim and Lilia have fun doing weird poses that makes very clear they aren't playing at all, but there's a charming genuine smile on their faces. Cater poses with his guitar like a professional, making captivating facial expressions that make even you swoon, only encouraging him to make different ones. He could be a model, you think, with how he knows all the right ways to smile at the camera and tilts his head just so to make him look cute and alluring at the same time, fingers skillfully positioned at the eletric guitar's chords, eyes lidded, hair messy deliberately, body facing forwards with confidence. He has everything to ace the rockstar persona, at least in looks.

You try taking some of them together as an unit, but none pleases you enough. There's something missing, but you can't quite put your finger on what. You give his cellphone back as you ponder about it. Cater looks through the photos, commenting how one looks "super cool~" and in the other he's "slaying". He decides it'd be a great moment to take advantage of his cuteness streak to take a photo with everyone together, yourself included. Cater drapes his arm around your shoulders and keeps you close to him, cheek coming to rest at your forehead. Kalim and Lilia make poses behind you two, laughing at how silly they look with all the filters Cater tries on. 

He ends up telling you to decide which photo looked better, as he couldn't chose just one, something like: "any photo with you would look cute, of course I can't chose!" You look through all of them, but only one gets your eyes, the only without a filter. Everyone looks genuinely happy, making your heart warm. Cater's is not looking at the camera itself, but slightly to the side, where you are, with such a soft expression you can't help but be endeared by it. It's him, not a forced smile and exaggerated pose, just Cater, happy. That's what the other pictures were missing. 

You show it to him, insisting it's the best and should be the first photo on the club's Magicam page. He pouts about the lack of filter, saying how the other ones look much cuter, but you explain that you like the real him much more than any filter, since nothing could ever come close to the real deal, no filter in the world could make him justice. You're very genuine with it too, since it's the truth. Cater stares at you, caught by surprise, and turns his face away from you, ears tinted pink, taking a minute to recompose himself, leaving you confused. Lilia looks on knowingly, smirking at him. You weren't alone in your confusion, as Kalim seemed to be just as clueless as you.

Your argument manages to convince him, though, as he soon comes up with an eye catching description and posts it, grumbling that you should be happy now. You are, actually, so you simply smile at him, giggling at his playful eye roll. Only after the picture was already posted and you entered on your own account that you notice your eyes were closed. You yelp and try to convince Cater to change it to another one, but he refuses, telling that you were the one that chose it so you should stick with it, sticking his tongue out at you in a childsh manner. You whine some more before giving up. Cater seemed really content with the choice, if the soft smile on his face as he glanced at it meant anything, so you let it be, resigning to your fate. You weren't even a member, so you hoped you wouldn't attract that much attention. (You really hoped Ace wouldn't find it, otherwise you'd never hear the end of it.)

He suddenly gets an idea to decorate the classroom to make it look more "magicamable", dragging Lilia with him to get the decorations. Lilia whispers something to him that makes him glance back at you with a red face, quickly scurrying away and leaving you and Kalim to look on in confusion. How weird, what had gotten into him? 

At that moment, the playlist shuffles, coming up with a song that has a very upkeep beat. Kalim jumps in excitement, saying that was his favorite song and he couldn't not dance to it. You can't help jumping your leg and moving your head to the beat, swaying to the contagious rhthym. Kalim notices and extends his hands in your direction, inviting you to dance with him. You know you're nowhere near his skill level and you'd look clumsy compared to his fluid moviments, but his earnestness convinces you to give it a try. You were sure he wouldn't make fun of you, so why not have a good time too?

Hand in hand, the two of you move together, not completly in sync, but in a rhythm that feels right, that's only yours. It's nice, seeing his content expression up close, foreheads almost touching, feet following the other's steps, hips swaying together. You spin once, laughing, he spins once, grinning wildly. You're lost in the trance of the hypnotizing beat of Kalim's heart.

The song gradually comes to a stop, making both of you calm down too. Kalim has one hand on your waist, the other still holding yours. You hold onto his shoulder, your noses touch, breaths coming in puffs, his eyes crinkle and it's warm, he's warm. Your chest follows his in it's rise and fall, your stomach does pirouettes, to the point you're dizzy, your cheeks feel hot. You start worrying you might have really gotten food poisoning from Lilia's cooking.

Before either of you say anything else, the sound of Cater's giggle burst your bubble, bringing you back to the real world. You whip your head to the door, watching as Lilia and Cater giggle deviously, Cater's fingers working fast on his cellphone's keyboard. You separate from Kalim's burning touch, your hands suddenly feeling cold, and stride up to them, demanding to look at what they found so funny. Lilia shows you, on his own phone, a videoclip of you and Kalim dancing together, nearing the end of the song. Your focus is initially on Kalim, as he glows, movements showing years of expertise, it's... beautiful. Then your gaze averts to yourself, and how, like you suspected, you were looking goofy near him, not matching the tempo at all.

You whine up at Cater again, asking him to delete the stories he posted, but he refuses, saying it was way too precious to miss. You lightly hit his chest and look up your lashes at him, pouting. His teasing expression falters, as if you were on the brink of convincing him. Lilia pulls you away and explains it was only on close friends anyway, so you needn't worry about the whole school seeing it. Kalim agrees that the video is very nice, beaming as he watches you two having fun. You sigh and give up, not having the heart to be a killjoy.

Lilia and Cater's hands are empty of any decorations, so you question them about it. Cater frowns exaggeratedly, drowning on dramatically on how they couldn't find any and how it was such a pity. Lilia covers his hand to hide a giggle, only making the action more obvious. Cater glares at him subtly. Kalim notices how the club's reserved time is almost coming to an end, deciding that to make a grand finale you should play an instrument, after all they should at least pretend they did something club related for you to report back to the Headmaster. And it'd be a lot of fun for you to play with them!

Lilia claps his hands together, agreeing it would be a most gleeful experience. He insists on teaching you how to play the bass, not wanting to hear whether you already knew how to or not. He gives you the instrument and shows how to hold it in the right way, trying to teach a few chords. It's a bit difficult to understand the confusing terms he uses, so he sighs and comes behind you, taking your hands in his and doing the movements, pressing his chest against your back, his deep voice right by your ear as he explains. You can't pay attention to it all, for some reason. You kind of feel dizzy again. Perhaps it's the food poisoning for real this time?

His fingers guide yours along the strings, gently pressing on the right spots, strumming the chords at the bridge. He murmurs the instructions, voice ressonating like the low pitch of the instrument, hot breath tickling your skin. You let him do as he pleases, dazed. The simple notes ring in your ears, lulling you into calmness, eyes closing as you let your sensations take the wheel, the frequency making your heart vibrate in your chest, as if dancing along, your head floating in the clouds.

It's all good and well until Lilia starts singing along. Or whatever it is that he calls "singing". In reality, he starts screaming some punk-rock lyrics right by your ear. Your heart jumps so quickly you swear you almost had an arrhythmia, your soul leaving your body for a second. Your eyes snap open so fast the lights from the classroom blind you and make black spots appear in your vision. You elbow Lilia in your surprise, thankfully making him stop trying to burst your eardrums. You get away, taking off the strap of the bass and giving it back to him. You think that's enough practicing for now.

Later on the day you confirm your food poisoning suspicions to be true. You've gained a new found respect for Sebek for enduring the poison Lilia calls cooking everyday and still managing to keep that impressive disposition of his. At least you helped the pop music club get more followers on magicam and spread their word out there. A bunch of people sign up to know the club, so you're all really happy! You felt like you've done a good job. (In the next week, the people arrive and see no sight of you, only of the dynamic trio. They don't show up again, leaving the members number back to it's original three.)

It was pretty fun, all things considered. You didn't get hurt other than in your pride and your social image, so it's a win in your books. Still, you're not sure you could handle their energetic and chaotic personalities combined like this evey week and risk getting deaf or suffering stomach failure. Time to check out other clubs.

(Cater comments on how the photos you took together got the most likes, insisting you come over again for a photoshoot. Kalim says he's got new songs to dance with you and that he's asked Jamil to help him cook for the next club meeting. Lilia tells you that you still have to take some more bass lessons to get the hang of it. Well, you suppose you could pass by sometime to be in the know about what goes on at the school and to get to prove Jamil's cooking. And to enjoy your friend's company, of course!)

Masterlist

[wandixx]

Ok it closes out on me when I tried typing it the first time-

Anyway, I'm a sucker for shock value ones, just so funny to me, so how about M'gann being nervous about introducing bf danny and it happens at an inconvenient time! Could go ghost royalty, ancient of space or anything, hell ghost as dragons would be pretty funny, up to you though!

I'm not sure if I did a good job at this, but I didn't want you to wait too long and real life is keepimg me busier than expected, so for now, it's here. I may continue it one day (I also have different version of fill for this prompt, because neither idea felt right, so if you'd like to see I too, just let me know whatever way is most convenient to you)

This wasn't supposed to happen like that. M'gann didn't have a super detailed plan on how it was supposed to happen, but even her vague (thought and rethought every night) ideas were anything but this. It was supposed to be a calm, low-stakes situation. Maybe even make it look like an accidental meeting, Team in civies hanging out around Happy Harbour, bumping into Danny and then she'd just introduced him, perhaps adding ‘btw, he is my boyfriend’ almost like an afterthought. This seemed like the best possible scenario.

This was also, as expected with the way hero life is, the exact opposite of what actually happened.

Of course, it didn’t start with anything heralding the absolute disaster this day had to become. Kinda accidentally the Team stumbled upon something between a cave and a basement, and in it a group of people, who decided to perform a summoning of a genie so they could… wish for stuff. They didn’t even look like cultists or villains of any sort, just a group of random adults from seemingly very different backgrounds. M’gann had a really hard time understanding what actually brought them together other than their wishes.

Which was actually pretty useful when it came to fighting them, because nobody really cared about their fellow summoner, just trying to save their own butt. She kinda wished more of their opponents were so incompetent.

Though, she spoke too soon because in the excitement of the fight, somehow all of them didn’t realize that one or two of the summoners… actually managed to finish a summoning. It was honestly a little bit embarrassing.

But, it was too late to dwell on all that, as right above the summoning circle appeared a circle in a worryingly familiar shade of green.

Of course, this one time she didn’t have any equipment from Danny, had to be when the Team encountered a ghost.

Ghost in question was a beautiful woman, with long hair covering one of her eyes, in a blue outfit that was related to one of Earth cultures, but M’gann didn’t know which, and a bunch of bracelets on her wrists. Martian could make a hazard guess on who it was, based on the stories Danny told her.

“We don’t have time for explanations, I think I know who this is, if I’m right for the love of everything that’s dear to you, don’t say the word ‘wish’ out loud” she demanded over the Mindlink.

Before she finished, Artemis took silver tape from somewhere and slapped a piece of it over Wally’s mouth. M’gann understood the sentiment but still… it was a little bit too nuclear option.

Desiree (if it was her) didn’t attack anyone, looking a bit confused, giving Team a moment of reprieve to plan and for Kid Flash to make sure none of the summoners could make whatever wish they wanted either. Also with the use of silver tape. Djinn’s were always tricky.

M'gann used this moment of everyone getting their bearings to curse herself for not bringing any ghost weapons this time. Any other mission, Team or not, she had something on her but today? Today she had nothing.

Excluding the summoning engraved into clips holding her cape but it was kinda last resort. It wouldn't annihilate everything in one mile radius or something but she didn't want to drag Danny there if he was during a test, other ghost fight or something. She knew better than anyone that he didn’t need more distractions.

Conner crashed into a wall right next to her. Artemis seemed to lose her cool when none of her arrows seemed to reach the ghost while Robin was trying to make some counter plans with Kaldur. They couldn't do a thing to Desiree and it was a matter of seconds before she stopped entertaining them and went to the city. It… would end badly, most likely. Danny would prefer to get involved before it got that far. Yeah…

She really wished she didn’t have to call.

“I have an idea, cover for me for a minute or two”

“Bold of you to assume we can stop her from anything”

“I believe in you Wally. Just distract her”

“My water attacks seem to be effective weapon against her”

“That’s aster! What do you plan to do, M'gann?”

“Summon another ghost”

She expertly ignored yelling that followed, taking the golden clip off of her cape. She held fabric in place with absentminded use of telekinesis, while she focused on an engraved pattern. Danny's summoning circle wasn't actually too complicated or intricate but she needed to do it just right. And frankly, she just liked looking at it. Physical proof that her boyfriend would be there if she needed it. Drawn representation of who he is, the deepest and truest parts of his soul written in the language that only Universe itself could fully understand.

And it was beautiful. Absolutely incredible. Much better than Desiree's circle, thank you very much.

M’gann dropped to her knees and grabbed leftover chalk from previous summoning and crouched to quickly draw Danny's seal. She had a lot of practice from all the times she doodled it on a whim just to get something of him with her when she missed him the most. She rarely actually summoned him, again, it was difficult to align their schedules, but she was very familiar with the first step.

And it was really easy from there.

She placed the clip in the middle of the circle, shapeshifted one of her nails to get a bit of blood on the chalk and leaned back.

After a careful, deep breath, she started an incantation, putting as much power in her voice as she could.

“I call upon you guard of Amity Park, I call upon you dearest child of the Ice, I call upon you one favored by the Time, I call upon you vanquisher of the Fear, I call upon you subduer of the King, I call upon you defender and the guide, I call upon Phantom, both worlds beloved child”

Circle erupted in green light, putting a momentary pause to the fight. M’gann was still blinking spots away when a figure flung itself out of the summoning circle, right at the Desiree.

“What the fuck?!”

Only after the first punch was thrown did Danny turn back to her, with his usual, somehow both gallant and bashful smile, that without fault made her knees get a little weaker. She smiled back.

“Hello Starlight” he greeted, sounding almost casual.

“Starlight?”

“Hi Angel. Nice of you to drop by” she answered in the same manner. Wally tried to yell from behind the duck tape.

“Angel?! M'gann, who is he? Who is she?!”

“I will always come if you call” he said without any doubt, suddenly as serious as if he was sharing information that could break or make the world.

It certainly worked like that to her world. She actually melted a little on the inside.

“I know”

“Actually, that's kinda cute. I still have no idea who this is, but you go girl”

“I feel like it's not the right time Artemis”

“Not to interrupt… whatever this is, but the other ghost is escaping” Robin cut in “Also, if you want to make out afterwards, please find the room, Batman and Catwoman are traumatizing enough“

Few people snorted, while Danny blushed green. He darted back at Desiree, clearly to escape the embarrassment. M’gann stood up, totally at ease now, that he was there to take care of it.

“Will you need a hand? I don't have any tech but we have a trick or two up our sleeves!” she asked, projecting her voice so it carried through the cavernous basement without yelling.

“I'm good for now but thanks for asking!”

“M’gann, can you give us anything substantial? Who is this? How do you know him?”

“One question at the time and let's wait until he finishes, okay?“

She cut off Mindlink before anyone agreed or protested.

“Miss Martian!”

“Soup time!”

With a blast of light, Desiree got sucked in and Danny landed in front of them with a proud grin.

“My job here is done”

“It truly is. You're getting faster too”

“And thanks to who is that?”

“You”

Danny sent her both an incredulous and playful glare.

“Of course. I miraculously found a ways to not be a mess and don't crash through every wall on my way and–”

“Well, no but–”

“Let me remind you, you're not alone… also who are you dude? And where did the other lady go?” Wally asked, right after ripping the duct tape off his mouth.

“Oh, well, I'm Phantom, I usually work in Amity Park?” he said a bit unsure, as if calling him a protector was under any question. That just wouldn't do.

“He's a hero from Amity Park”

“Thanks love. It's nice to finally meet you all. M talked a lot about you!”

“Can't say same about you, sorry”

“That's fine. I know M was agonizing over how to introduce me in the best way possible. I'm really happy it's finally over,” he paused for a moment, with his brows furrowed “Did I do good? This first impression thing?”

“You're… far less imposing that I personally expected after hearing Miss Martian summoning you, but–”

“M’gann how could you hide this from us?” Conner blurted out quietly, and oh, he sounded so utterly crushed. Everyone fell silent, the playful atmosphere gone as if it had evaporated.

“I never intentionally hid it. It wasn't significant enough to mention at the start and when it became important I felt like I couldn't just drop it at you during lunch or something. I always planned to tell you, there was just never the right time nor right words. I never wanted to hide it.”

“Even just me?”

“Especially you”

“You still should've…”

“Yeah, I should. I'm sorry”

“How long ago have you met?”

“Half a year ago,” Danny said before she managed to answer “It's all kinda my fault actually. I was really set on not getting mixed up with more hero business than I had to back then. I didn't want you or Justice League finding out about me. And when I agreed, it was already really late. I'm sure she'd told you all from the get go if I let her, I'm sorry”

“Why wouldn't you want us to know about you?”

“It's… Probably not the conversation we should have right here, over gagged wannabe cultists.”

“Valid. Let's call the cops and get going. You two have much to explain”

“And you're sitting eight feet apart until you do!”

Danny leaned in to kiss her, quick and playful, before he jumped back at the demanded distance.

“Well, this still went better than at your side”

“Absolutely”

*******

Also, here is some lil arts for a longish wait, sorry again, I hope this story is yours to your expectations

[necrotic-nephilim]

as an apology for being gone for a month, have a uquiz i spent a week making! pls feel free to reblog with which character you got, i worked way too hard on this silly little thing. there are eight different characters you can get that are varying levels of unknown, with comic recommendations for each character <3

[crybaby-bkg]

You and Bakugou had discussed your plans of your future pretty early on in the relationship. You wanted to move in by this time, be engaged at this time, have your wedding, enjoy married life, and then have kids. Only thing now, is to have kids. But the problem?

Bakugou keeps pulling out.

You’re not sure what’s going on, where the hold up is coming from. You went through all the steps of getting off your birth control, prepping your body for what’s to come. The only thing you need is him, and for some reason, he keeps denying the last piece of the puzzle.

You confront him finally, after another night of him wiping down your stomach and inner thighs. You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling with a soft frown. Bakugou pecks at your collarbone and squeezes your flank to hear you giggle, but you only shuffle a little away from him. He pauses, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he stares down at your crumpled expression.

“What’s going on?” He hums quietly, brushing a few hairs from your forehead as he throws the washcloth on the ground. He holds your face in both hands, kissing gently at your skin when he sees your bottom lip wobble in frustration.

“Why won’t you cum inside me?” You snap, cringing as the words leave your mouth. You could’ve said them a little more gracefully, but it’s hard finding grace when your life plans have suddenly come to a halt without a word on his part. Bakugou’s eyes bulge in confusion before a soft look passed over his face. He sighs, body slumping on top of you heavily, knocks the breath from your lungs and the tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, flinching a little when you pinch his side.

“How couldn’t I have noticed? I thought this was our final step to completing the life we wanted together. What happened?” Your voice gets softer with every word until you’re nothing but a whisper in the quietness of the room. Bakugou doesn’t say anything for a long while, just breathes in the scent of you before murmuring quietly,

“I don’t think I’ll be a good dad.” He confesses. You’re not sure if you should stop him and reassure him, but he takes a deep shaky inhaled breath in, and you decide to let him continue.

“I don’t wanna be an absent father to the only brats I’ll ever have. They deserve to have someone be there for them, every step of the way. I don’t think—I don’t think they deserve to have a fucked up person as a father. ‘S not fair.”

You can only lay there and listen, rubbing gently at his back, over his scars and still healing wounds. You run a hand through his hair and blink away tears when you feel his sniffle more than hear it. You both stew in what’s been said for what feels like hours before you speak up.

“How can you say that, when we’ll have the safest kids on the block?” You whisper, pulling his face from your neck so he can look at you, wipe away the stray tears that muddle his ruddy cheeks.

“Knowing you, Katsuki, you’ll be there no matter what. No matter what strings you have to pull, time you have to sacrifice, how many times you’ll have to break your neck—you’ll be there, because you always are. For me, for our friends, your parents, for the shitty civilians that never wanna listen to your instructions.” Bakugou chuckles a little at that, mumbling a quiet, shitty extras, under his breath. You smile at him, leaning forward to kiss his eyelids and eyebrows and forehead and nose and cheeks and lips. When you pull back, he smiles softly, just a quirk of the corner of his mouth and blinks up at you like some big cat.

“You’ll be a great dad, because you’re a great person first and foremost. And our kids will love you unconditionally because you are their dad.” You whisper to him, pressing a final kiss to his lips for the night. With that, you two lay together, discussing possible plans on future endeavors, how you guys will work together when the kids are here, time taken off and how it’ll be spent together.

So, it shouldn’t, but it comes as a surprise months later when Bakugou wakes up one morning to find an empty ceramic mug sitting on the kitchen table. You’re sat beside it, failing to hide a grin behind your own mug you sip at, a new one he hasn’t seen before. He looks at you funny, before picking up the mug, eyes bulging out of his head as he reads what’s on it, and the little capped stick inside.

He doesn’t say anything as he embraces you, pulling you up from your chair and hugging you to him as your giggles fill the atmosphere of the house. The quiet house, that in a few months, won’t be as quiet for much longer.

[pinkgrapefloyd]

Anti-Hero finally has a sequel! ✨

Ruin My Life

by pinkgrapefloyd

Johnny has no idea how to plan a proposal – especially one that Daniel will actually say yes to. Fortunately, he has a ragtag team of teenaged wannabe relationship experts standing by. But between Miguel’s sense of romance, Robby’s identity crisis, Sam’s blossoming boldness and Tory’s eagerness to prove herself, it’s anyone’s guess how that will turn out. 

relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence, Sam LaRusso/Tory Nichols, Robby Keene/Miguel Diaz

length: 5k so far (will probably end up around 100k in total)

rating: Explicit

additional tags: #the problematic codependent karate gang in all their lovable three-dimensional glory, #established relationship, #marriage proposal, #fluff, #humor, #angst, #hijinks & shenanigans, #implied/referenced sexual harassment, #internalized homophobia, #kiaz, #samtory, #e rating for the lawrusso chapters, #porn with feelings 

I love this fic so much and I hope I get more time to work on it in the new year. So happy to have you along for the ride again!

[kohakurin8]

~ Elevator Hitch ~

What Does it All Mean!?

A brief theory on the symbolism and lore behind a really cool game

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

This post will contain SPOILERS for the game and all 14 endings. If you wish to play Elevator Hitch before reading, you can download it for free at this link.

So, Where do we begin?

Elevator Hitch is a really cool isolated-loop surreal horror game. For those of you who aren't familiar with this concept, an "isolated-loop" is a time-loop scenario which only affects a single person, small group of people, single room, etc. — but does NOT affect the entire world or universe. This is where it's common to see things like acquiring an item in your inventory, getting murdered, then waking up again at the beginning of the day with the item still in your inventory.

This concept has been used in various different media, and to varying different degrees of complexity. But, honestly, I think this game is my favorite instance of it so far.

So our story revolves around Protag, a somewhat meek and nervous lil guy who comes to this office building to take an interview for a new job. All he knows is that his interview isn't on the first floor, so he gets in the elevator in an attempt to find it. Before the door closes, Coworker forces his way in, and the elevator suddenly shorts out and jams before you two can begin your journey. The rest of the game is your various attempts to exit the elevator (alive) which get increasingly bizarre — especially after Protag realizes that whenever he dies, time restarts to when they first entered the elevator!

Shame Coworker doesn't seem to remember anything, though...

Now, since the lore within the game is pretty cryptic, none of our questions about the situation ever seem to get totally answered. It's up to the player to theorize and surmise just what exactly is happening to Protag and Coworker, and that's exactly what I've come here to do.

Death and Clues on Every Floor...

Literally! Every floor is a single room containing at least 1 clue, and at least 1 possible death — including the elevator itself. But what's even more important than that is the lore that all of these scenes show you.

Interestingly enough, the lore all seems to revolve around who Protag is as a person, to the point that one of the floors is actually his childhood bedroom.

Kind of intriguing that everything about this environment is centered around him, huh?

Hold onto that thought.

Every room and scenario is increasingly more bizarre, featuring anything from Eldritch-esque beings to settings that could almost pass for torture chambers. Every puzzle requires something from a different floor, making it ridiculously easy to screw up and croak, meanwhile Coworker is so maddeningly unaware that even when he tries to offer advice it's just as cryptic as the situation itself.

It all feels a lot... Like Hell...

Not just as an expression, but actual Hell. Mind rending stimuli navigated through tedious puzzle solving, where the penalty is gruesome death and the only reward is more torture. A neverending loop of suffering and confusion. It's all quite hellish!

At first this feels a bit superficial. "Of course it's hellish, this is a horror game!" But, honestly, good horror like this game is rarely ever bizarre and incomprehensible for the sheer shock value. If all of these allusions were superficial, why would we have such a detailed and cryptic conversation with Manuel, the maintenance worker?

Why would every single "correct answer" to the puzzles have sinister undertones?

Why would the religious subtext in Protag's room be so subtle and yet so distinct at the same time?

So if we humour ourselves and follow this train of thought then that leads one to wonder...

Why would Protag be in Hell?

Good question! After all, he doesn't even seem to be aware of having any initial death!

But, we are given breadcrumbs to what sort of person Protag is through the various different scenarios that ensue. Some things are minor details, like his lack of remorse for feeding an innocent rat to a hungry black hole. Others are more intense and significant, like the clues in his bedroom...

Let's start with pointing out the obvious direction that Protag's dialogue trees nudge you in.

After all, this game is a visual novel, so of course there are points when your dialogue options matter and can very well change the outcome of the situation. However, most VNs have options that are distinctly "good" or "bad" for the story directions, often leading the player on a journey of teaching the protagonist how to be a better person.

But Protag.... doesn't become better...

All of his dialogue options are either:

• Confusion, Frustration, Disbelief

• Self-Deprecating, Meek

• Deceptive

• Lashing Out

Obviously some of these options are better for certain scenarios. Deceiving Coworker into giving you his lighter is a way better idea than trying to steal it and burning you both to death.

And deceiving your Doppelgangers into trusting you before your brutal betrayal is arguably better than trusting them and getting betrayed in return.

But none of these options point to Protag being a good person. As much as he learns to adapt to his environment, nothing he does teaches him how to be a better person than he started out as. In fact, some of them even lead him to commit murder himself!

Of course, this isn't saying that Protag is necessarily a bad person either. After all, his initial reaction to the Doppelgangers is to trust them and even show them pity.

We also get a lot of information about Protag from the floor that mimics his childhood bedroom. He was monitored constantly by overbearing and religious parents, to the point that one of the Bad Ends is his parents entering the room.

He couldn't sleep, plagued by nightmarish beings which he even made drawings of, and had to take sleeping pills just to cope (which may or may not have been hidden from his parents as well)

Considering this, and just the sheer amount of existential dread Protag has upon visiting this floor, it's very possible that his parents were abusive. His personality issues are probably a result of that abuse, meaning even though he isn't necessarily a good person, he also isn't inherently a bad one.

The Allusions of Suicide...

This should honestly come as no surprise, but this game does have a lot of potential allusions to suicide. Especially when taking into account what suicide means in Christianity...

I first noticed this in the dialogue on Floor 9 with Normal Guy, as well as the dialogue contained in Ending 13 (screenshot above). During the interview on Floor 9, Protag seems to struggle with answering most of the questions. When asked why he wanted a new job, all of the answers imply that he doesn't actually know why, and when asked why he left his old job, Protag states that "it wasn't a Real Job" or at least not one viewed as respectable.

Then, when attempting to leave the Lobby on Floor 1, Protag is blocked by an alarming figure who berates him. The figure taunts Protag with phrases he's likely told himself, like "you worked so hard to get here" and especially "you NEED this job"

Now, this game absolutely LOVES its workplace puns, and something about these ones just struck me as significant. Upon further reflection on everything going on, I realized that these phrases are almost synonymous with suicidal thoughts.

As someone who's experienced this myself, I understand that a lot of suicidal thoughts are rooted more in the desire for change, and not the desire for death. So consider this...

Protag isn't looking for a new job, he's looking for a new life. His old life didn't feel "real" or "respectable", likely because of whatever abuse he endured from his parents. After all, his childhood bedroom is described by him as his "old place", meaning he likely was living with his parents until somewhat recently.

So then when he finally passes the interview — passes this hellish elevator trial of self-discovery — and tries to flee, he's stopped by the thoughts of regret for taking his own life.

"You worked so hard for this new life, why are you throwing it away?"

"You NEED this change."

"You can't go back to what you were before."

Then there's the Sleeping Pill found in Protag's bedroom. It's not found in a pill bottle or any other typical storage, but rather it's under the bedsheets. This gives the impression that the pill either fell out of Protag's hand in bed, or that he was hiding the pills from his overbearing parents.

Then there's the fact that sleeping pills are a very common medium for attempted suicide.

This leads me to suspect that Protag either overdosed in an attempted suicide as a child, causing his parents to become even more protective.

Or... This is how Protag ended up at the office building in the first place...

Welcome to Protag's Purgatory

Yeah, you may have guessed it already, but I am in fact suggesting that Protag has committed suicide and is currently trapped in Purgatory. After all, if you consider the distinct hint at his religious background, it's not unlikely to be following the Christian belief that suicide will condemn you to Purgatory. In fact, the opening of the game, where Protag feels like the only one who doesn't know where he's going, is a reference to the nature of Purgatory.

Consider, also, the nature of the game. Everything you do in it is a sort of trial, and it all tests the nature of Protag's true self. Not to mention that Purgatory is an unchanging limbo, just as the game paints a picture of an unending time-loop on repeat.

Protag took his own life, and his penance is to be trapped in an unending trial of self-discovery. Floor 9 resembles Heaven, like Cloud 9, where Protag is administered one final test. Normal Guy gives Protag the option to have become a better person, and possibly pass on to a better afterlife, however our dialogue tree tells us that Protag hasn't reached that level of self acceptance yet.

Therefore, the only options are what appears to be working in Purgatory (possibly like Manuel), enduring the trial over and over again, or as hinted by the eerie staircase downward in Ending 14, descent into Hell...

You're probably wondering if this theory accounts for Coworker, and it certainly does. After all, he seems rather unperturbed by the events he's undergone. I suspect he also committed suicide, but didn't have the same background of religious guilt that Protag had growing up. Coworker knows that he's supposed to go to the top, that he's supposed to pass on. He's at peace with who he is and where he's going, therefore he doesn't endure the same personal torture that Protag does.

No matter what ending you get in Elevator Hitch, nothing truly changes for Protag, because he himself hasn't changed. It's possible that there is some sort of future where Protag can change and move on — in fact, Normal Guy even hints that speaking to Coworker more could be the key to his salvation — but this possible future is one we will never see.

Because that's not the point of the game. The point is to become immersed in the torture which Protag goes through, and to try and unravel the mysteries of who he is and what he's enduring.

So there's my thoughts on the game. I hope you all enjoyed reading, and I'd love to hear any comments or input you have!

[corviiids]

based on how i approach plotting ive come to the conclusion that even if i were morally and logically okay with becoming kira i would get the death note and think "okay, im going to make sure i come up with the perfect plan so i can't get caught", spend several months on it, refuse to execute it because it's not foolproof yet, and simply never get around to it. if ethics and reason didn't stop me from becoming kira then sheer procrastination would do the trick

[skeletal-butterflyy]

D&D subtext in Stranger Things

Highly, highly requested analysis (no it’s not) of some interesting things I noticed going on with D&D in stranger things. This includes my personal thoughts based on my credentials of; having watched the show more times than i can possibly count over the past 7 years and current knowledge of DnD classes, worldbuilding, monsters, character creation. I’ll have this on the pinned post on my blog and i’ll add a text break because it’s…a lot.

Misc. :

The show starts with and is based off of Dungeons and Dragons, a table top rpg that the characters like to play. In the first season we don’t get much insight into the boys characters or the game itself, it’s used as a device to further the idea that these kids are nerds, they play a nerdy game that involves fantasy and math. As the show progresses it continues to be used to push across certain ideas, like establishing each character in the party and in season three showing how the game might represent the boys as social outcasts and their childhood.

DnD, is used throughout the show but we get to see actual play of the game in season one and four. It’s also used as a way to name the monsters they face (the monsters do get the right ideas across but the game and show versions are actually quite different from each other, especially the demogorgon)

In season 4 the idea of satanism connected to DnD really interested me. Why was everyone connecting DnD to satanism? I mean we know that everyone thought that Eddie was killing all of these people but that doesn’t mean that his club had anything to do with it. The duffers interestingly incorporated the real stigma that was widely held in the 80s against the game. At the time people were going on witchunts against anything regarded as being possibly related to satan. The most interesting part about all of this though is that, Dungeons and Dragons was made by two very devout christian men, Ernest Gygax (one of the founders) was even a Jehovah’s Witness! The two being christian’s though, incorporated a lot of religious themes into the game including clerics and paladins (calm down you fiends i’ll be getting to that) who carry a lot of religious themes and monsters that may represent demons. Outsiders might have seen a game presenting such themes as a mockery of their faith or a way to promote satanism simply by having monsters.

Characters:

I want to preface this by saying the classes that I’ll be talking about aren’t actually time period accurate. The boys would have been playing D&D 1e which had the three classes of : Fighting-man, magic-user, and cleric. While the classes listed are from D&D 2e which didn’t come out until 1989. Anyways.

In season 1, in the first scenes of the show we get to see what is the middle of DnD session before it gets interrupted. We get the basic ideas of their game across, Mike acting as DM presenting the adventure he created to his players while the rest of the party waits in anticipation for what they have to fight next. We also get to see some of will’s drawings of the party and his character

Keep these pictures in mind.

In season 2 when mike and max are arguing in the gym we hear mike say, “I’m our paladin, will’s our cleric, dustin’s our bard, lucas is our ranger and el is our mage.” At first glance it seems like nothing, oh he’s just listing off the party members and their roles and how max doesn’t fit into the party. But when you look at it properly it’s so much more.

Lucas and Dustin could not be more perfect for their chosen classes. Lucas is a ranger which means the ideal stats to be highest would include dexterity, constitution, and wisdom. Dexterity refers to, in this case the hand eye coordination and general reflexes. Constitution refers to a characters stamina and toughness, and wisdom is well, wisdom. Sounds like a certain character that has quick reflexes, has a tendency to take punches pretty well, and has good problem solving skills huh? All of these apply to lucas quite well, AND his weapon of choice is a ranged weapon, the slingshot (wrist-rocket you know what I mean), it’s really quite perfect. As for Dustin, he’s said to be a bard and the highest ideal stat for that class is charisma. Dustin has been proven to be very charismatic, he gets along with people and he can very comedic. Another thing about bards is they will tend to be very eloquent, inspirational, and persuasive, it comes with the territory of having a high charisma score, and we know dustin has a way with words. Dustin’s known for being a an eloquent and persuasive character; he convinced Mike to make up with Lucas after their fight in season one, he convinced a hesitant Mr. Clarke to tell him how to make a censory deprivation tank, he convinced steve to join him in looking for dart, and convinced erica to go through the vents (sort of). So, it makes complete sense for dustin to be a bard.

Taking a look at Mike’s character, his class also makes a lot of sense. Mike plays a paladin when he’s not the DM. A paladin is a “devout warrior” they fight with a cause, to serve their patron deity. They’re often compared to knights because of their values and the armor they usually wear. A paladin is the perfect representation of mike, especially for how will described him during the painting scene, he’s a leader and will throw himself in dangerous situations for the sake of the party, like when he jumped off the cliff for dustin.

Now, remember how will’s drawings, specifically of his character? Remember how mike said that will was a cleric? Will’s character is complicated. Will’s character being a cleric doesn’t make sense but makes so much sense at the same time. His character doesn’t look like a cleric. Clerics might be spellcasters but they don’t traditionally carry a staff or wear robes like we see will’s character does. He wears wizard clothing and has wizard abilities, not to mention in the first scene we see him play DnD and attempt to cast fireball, a spell that is most commonly associated with wizards and sorcerers and he does not seem to get his magic from a deity like a cleric traditionally would. (Clerics can cast fireball but only if they are part of the light domain) So, his character seems to be more of a wizard than a cleric, which is odd.

My theory relating to Will’s character:

Looking back at what mike said, Will’s character class doesn’t make much sense. But, I personally feel like Mike wasn’t being totally honest. First, he listed el, who they might consider to be part of the party but she doesn’t have an actual role in the game, but of course she would be the magic-user/mage. I think that mike made the list based on his feelings about the party specifically regarding will and el. El has powers in real life so it makes sense he assigned her the role of mage, and replacing will for him to become a cleric. It’d be interesting if Will was simply a cleric in mike’s personal thoughts about the party because it would make it so mike views them as very close. Paladins and clerics are very similar in relation to the fundamentals, a paladin is a warrior that swears an oath and serves a deity while a cleric is the servant of a deity that heals and fights. Basically, a cleric does more spell casting and less fighting while a paladin does more fighting and less spell casting. Since the two are so similar it would give a lot of depth to the characters being best friends, who have a much deeper understanding of each other than the rest of the party would. And even if he wasn’t simply a cleric in mikes mind and will the wise is actually a cleric, this would still show that the two having a much deeper connection and understanding of each other was hinted at from the beginning.

[kyouka-supremacy]

I think we should just bring back Wungo Wednesday and start a fandom collective anime rewatch

[starlight-archer]

My first Catwin fic is finally up on AO3! What was supposed to be 10k ended up at over 18k!