#That portal will surely improve things

[taoofshigeru]

I think it's no coincidence that that backup Jewel decided to send in are the two most physically equipped to fight an army of robots as well as emotionally equipped to give couples counseling.

[jonahfagnus]

in other news im thinking about my (very very vague) portal jonelias au again

[sanguinesmi1e]

A Round Door Like a Porthole, Lazarus Green Pt. 1 (you're here) Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Wayne Enterprises didn’t really need a small business specializing in “ecto-weapons” invented by self-purported ghost hunters, but S.T.A.R. Labs tipped Lucius Fox off that Lex Luthor was trying to buy an obscure little company in Illinois, and thwarting Luthor was always worthwhile. Now Tim just had to figure out what to do with all the equipment and the concerningly large arsenal of guns and things that looked like normal household items but seemed to have other, horrific purposes. He would have laughed at the way they slapped “Fenton” in front of every invention name (do ghost hunters really need a Fenton thermos? Won’t a normal thermos keep their coffee hot just as well? Are ghosts like trout, to be caught with a Fenton Ghost Fisher which just looks like a normal fishing rod but glow-in-the-dark. And what the fuck even is a Fenton Peeler!?), but he thought with some chagrin about the batarangs, batmobile, and everything else that had “bat” as a prefix in the batcave. 

However, of all the things Tim hadn’t expected to find when he flew out to do an inventory of assets after they bought the business sight-unseen, a portal generating a Lazarus Pit in gaseous form was probably at the top of his list. He didn’t even know that Lazarus water could change states from a liquid to a gas like that. Maybe there actually was something to the whole ghost thing. He supposed that it made sense for ghosts to exist, after all Deadman was part of Justice League Dark. Speaking of. . . he should see if Bruce could call in someone from JLD to assess things. He was feeling decidedly out of his depth.

John Constantine did not like to consult for mega corporations like Wayne Enterprises, but Batman had specifically requested he go check something out and he figured, where's the harm? 

There. 

There’s the harm. 

It turned out the “thing” he’d been called in to look at is a machine that can tear open a stable portal into the Infinite Realms. That is not something that should be possible. That is not something technology should be capable of achieving. That is definitely not something that should exist. Bloody hell, what had the Bats roped him into!?

This really should have been Zatana’s job. Or Deadman’s. Hell, Raven or Secret would be preferable. Because John would prefer not to be dealing with this. In fact, he would prefer to be back in literal Hell than deal with the crazy shit in the Infinite Realms. Could John handle demons, archangels, and even gods? Yeah. He can bind or exorcize most supernatural threats. Does that mean he relishes the idea of going toe to toe with heavy hitters from the Infinite Realms? Absolutely not. 

Some beings who lived there were just little blob ghosts made from ectoplasm and emotion. Some were the restless undead who could not or would not cross over to their afterlives. And some were the embodiments of concepts like nature, destructive weather, and dreams. He wasn’t sure where Death fit into the Realms, whether she ruled or visited, or if it was actually just an extension of her, but he didn’t really want to find out. There were many things John could defeat. Death wasn’t one of them. And now he was looking at a portal into a realm where the living were not meant to be. 

Danny hadn’t returned to Fenton Works since graduating high school. It turned out that he was less anxious when he was not living with people who fantasized about “tearing him apart molecule by molecule” and thought that discussing their plans to dissect him (although he maintained that it would be a vivisection since he’s only half dead) made for fascinating dinner conversation. Who would have thought that his constant stress, anxiety, and insomnia were caused by environmental factors? He’d been unpacking things with a very nice therapist his sister helped him find, and seen great improvements in his mental health. It really helped that she was dead too, and unlike Spectra she didn’t feed off the misery of her patients.

Danny hadn’t intended to ever return to Fenton Works, but when Jazz told him that Jack and Maddie sold their life's work to Wayne Enterprises and a multibillionaire playboy was about to have unfettered access to the Ghost Zone, he was. . . concerned. To say the least. And that was why he was in the middle of doing some light sabotage when Tim Drake-Wayne and a guy in a trenchcoat who reeked of cigarette smoke entered the basement lab. It’s why he was hiding under the Specter Speeder removing the ecto-engine, and there to overhear the conversation that followed.

“So, am I right in thinking that’s a Lazarus Pit?” Tim asked Constantine.

The older man stared at the portal, then at Tim, then at the portal for an uncomfortably long time. Then he pulled out a flask and drained half its contents before saying, “Yes and no. That is basically the same substance as the pits, but I think that this does something else entirely. It seems like this machine basically functions as a summoning circle, but instead of pulling one entity from one side to the other, this is just an open doorway that is perpetually pulling in anything or anyone who gets within its sphere of influence.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing, John.”

“It’s really not,” 

“So what does that mean, is it like a blown hatch in space causing rapid depressurization?” Tim felt a little ill at the thought. “What is it even pulling into our world?”

“No, no. Nothing so dramatic as that. It’s more like, hm, so the way summoning circles work is they invite or compel a specific entity to manifest, by basically making a one-way magical portal for them. This portal is kinda like an invitational summoning, which entices, but doesn’t force anyone to enter. Usually a summoning will have a purpose though, and the being you summon will be offered a deal. If this is doing what I think it is and pulling citizens of the Infinite Realms through and leaving them on this side without a contract or direction, they’re probably getting pretty frustrated and causing havoc. It’s like offering someone a job in another country so they have to get a visa and uproot everything, only to get off the plane and find an empty office, no housing, and no paycheck.” John lit up a cigarette and took a drag.

Tim wrinkled his nose, but knew from long experience that it wasn’t worth it to argue about American tobacco restrictions in the workplace with Constantine, especially while the man was doing him a favor. Also, the man looked like he really needed either a cigarette or another drink, and he’d prefer second hand smoke to a drunk sorcerer. “So then why hasn’t this town been overrun by these beings from the Infinite Realms?”

“Good question kid, but what I really want to know is how is this portal staying open? Really, how was it opened in the first place is the most pressing issue.” John mused.

Tim had already located the blueprints for the portal while waiting for Constantine, but either the Fentons had intentionally falsified the documents to seem plausible just long enough to make off with the money, or he just didn’t understand enough of the interaction between physics and the occult to comprehend how the portal could possibly function. 

He flipped back through the blueprints while the blond man sat cross legged in front of the swirling green portal and his low, distracted mutterings took on the cadence of a chant. The curl of smoke from his lit cigarette unfurled into some kind of spell array, and began to glow. Huh, maybe Tim shouldn't be too quick to judge him for tobacco misuse. Tim triple checked the flat file for any more information about the portal, and came up empty handed.

John, meanwhile, kept chanting as the magical array grew and spread to encompass the entire entrance to the portal. At last he stopped speaking and stood up, stepping back to double check his work. “Alright, Drake. You might wanna close your eyes for this one. It’s gonna be bright,” he said, popping his cigarette back between his lips. Then he stepped forward and blew a mouthful of smoke on the center of the array. The smoke caught against the softly glowing lines, pushing them until they floated back and collided with the nebulous green swirls and, despite Tim closing his eyes, flashed so incandescently white he could see them through his eyelids.

“OW! Fuck!!” John clutched his face, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I’m doubling my consulting fee,” he grumbled under his breath.

“You alright?” Tim asked, blinking spots out of his vision.

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec.” He too was blinking now. “That was not supposed to be so bright.”

“I’m assuming it worked though.”

“It had bloody well better ’ave worked.” The older man squinted at the slightly dimmer lines which still shone painfully bright against the green. “Oh. Yeah, that worked. Fuck. . .”

“What?” Tim looked on in alarm as Constantine pressed a hand over his mouth. 

“Oh man. What wanker did you say created this portal?”

“Presumably Drs. Madeline and Jack Fenton. Why?” He drew the last syllable out skeptically. 

“Because, they opened this portal with a child sacrifice, and bound his death and all the lost life potential to their bloody machine to create a perpetual gateway to the Infinite Realms.”

[mcyt-builds-contest]

Pandora"s Vault:

Contained : Dream, Tommyinnit, Ranboo, Technoblade, Connoreatpants

Series : DSMP

Propaganda : its so big. Its so so big. Look at a map of the dsmp. Its just a black void bigger than l'manburg was. You look at it and you just know it's something terrible. the obsidian walls, lava, the iron. It's just there. In the middle of the ocean. It does not fit in and its scary. the AMOUNT of redstone and functions it go is AMAZING. the only way to enter is through a portal that then leads u to the nether and has to be manually activated again by the warden. So to enter you literally NEED the wardens permission. All the bridges and all the door. It's so fucking cool man what can I say. The amount of security. the lore that happened inside pandora as well. Pandoras arc was the best arc of the whole of dream smp and I stand by that. There is so so much to unpack. Sam and Dream could have just built some shitty obsidian box and called it a prison, but no they made PANDORAS VAULT

The Ghost's Vault:

Contained : VikingPilot's Prized possesions

Series : Dominion SMP

Propaganda : Perhaps the only self-titled Vault to actually be one, the Ghost's Vault, built by VikingPilot, is two things -- a consolidation of wealth, and a display of power. Built at a time on Dominion where every single diamond had to be handed over to the Queen every two weeks, the Vault is made in total opposition to that policy as an extremely intimidating secret stash. All 10 sets of Netherite armor are enchanted and labeled. It's built with soulfire lanterns under the center carpet runner for the sole purpose of unnerving the local piglin. He's taken people here twice onscreen, and both times it was to cash in a no-conditions-set IOU with that other person in order to make sure things work out exactly the way they need to. It also contains two very important books! Viking's "To Do" list is very simple -- Run Dominion. However, the other one -- the Book -- is quite possibly the single most dangerous thing in Viking's possession. He's not sure what's in it, other than that it contains rituals of unimaginable power and that if he opens it again, he will crack in half. Oh, and the Ghost's Vault is also the location for the world's most unhinged 12-minute 100% improv monologue to ever exist.

[fallintomyeyes]

ongoing joke at work because the guy i’ve been sleeping with for the past year semi-believes in the lizard people conspiracy so now i get to hear about all the batshit conspiracy theories my coworkers dig up because apparently by letting it in my bed i have taken the mantle of conspiracy queen

[irishmammonagenda]

MC's magic going wrong 😱😰

or right depending on ur outlook on life ig

warnings: swearing, mentions of death (extremely brief and only notioned towards), physical affection

You hadn´t thought much of it at first when you got back to the human realm. Everything went back to normal. Or as normal as it could be.

Your mother and father sobbed when they saw you, stating how they though´t you were lying in a ditch somewhere in the stretching countryside. You´d lied, told them you were away on a residency based apprenticeship, that you were sorry for worrying them. Your siblings showed signs of worry you never thought they were able to feel for you. Thus you were being babied for a month or so.

That´s when it started.

At first, it was more corvids at the bird feeder in your garden than usual. Then it was stray cats. Then inexplicable black and white feathers dusting your clothing and hair.

Your mother smiled picking out the ivory feather from the confines of your unbrushed hair, "Oh! Your guardian angel´s been watching over you!" she says playfully, an old wives´ tale, nothing too serious.

You tense for a moment, before laughing with her. "Well I´ll take it as a good sign." Stupid old wives being the smartest people.

At first it was easy to brush off.

Then your father started getting lucky, he hadn't been one to gamble persay, putting a few coins in on a bet for the horse racing or the football was a regular occurrence, sometimes he won,sometimes he didn't. The difference of a few silvers, a share bag of sweets basically, made no real strain on your belts. But now, he was winning left right and center. Winning amounts that shouldnt be possible based on the amount he input.

Though, after you woke up to cats and corvids staring at you unblinkingly, in your room, with a few flies and insects on the walls, and your bedsheets covered in feathers and scales of all colours and sizes, enough was enough.

You were going to give those nerds a piece of your mind.

After shooing the animals out, (making sure to pet the cats), you picked up a lipstick, and channeled your pact magic before drawing a circle with various symbols on the floor,

You stilled, "Ah, shit. I dunno how to do this, i mean half of those symbols are angry faces and squiggles...." but ever the theatre nerd, you improved.

"I, MC, call upon the power of my pacts with the Avatars of Hell! and, using their power; a portal to the Devildom shall open for me!"

And a portal did open for you. Unfortunately, not to the best place. As you travelled through the time pocket you ended up stumbling once you made it to the other side, the stumble turnt into a tumble turnt into a fall. Unluckily for you, the thing you fell on was toned flesh and chuckling heartily, you were in Diavolo's lap.

"It's great of you to drop by MC!" He says, his massive hands pulling you further into his frame.

You cover your face with your hands, now noticing the various other nobles in the council room who are staring at their Prince, attempting to mask the fact their jaws are going to hit the floor.

Atleast the Brothers weren't there, but Barbatos' half polite smile half smirk and Diavolo whispering various playful musings of, "Did you miss me that much little human, we missed you too.", and "Summoning a portal illegally into the Demon Lord's castle and onto the Demon Princes lap...tututut." almost made the brothers seem like a mercy....

...almost.

You couldn't tell if this was a win or a lose.

[annwe24]

SUGAR DADDY! LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X READER

Part 2

Summary: Lucifer and you reach a somewhat transactional relationship. However, you find yourself develop feelings for him.

A/N: i just wanted to write something short:)

Sighing, you put one of your rings back into your jewelry box. You have been sitting in front of your makeup mirror for 2 hours, suffering from having too many jewelry options. Well…maybe that's not exactly suffering.

It is a cycle repeating almost every week. The King of Hell takes you out for some fancy dinner date and almost always ends up with you and him making a mess in bed. You don't know how long this relationship will last and you are sure he will soon find another "entertainer" (probably skinnier). That thought makes you recoil when looking at your reflection in the mirror. You have never been comfortable in your own skin. Heck, why would a King of all places dote on someone who looks like they can eat 10 pounds of grilled cheese?

*Circus ringtone*

Shit! You think to yourself. Nervously gripping at your designer hand bag, you inhale and exhale to calm down before finally pressing the accept button. Despite being quite close to the King (maybe too close), he never fails to make you stumble over his every little actions. He commented politely on this once; however, that hasn't improved one bit.

Hey, just wanna check up on you, darling. Are you ready to head out?

His sugar-coated voice makes you shiver a bit. You take a silent glance at your jewelry box before answering:

Yeah, you can pick me up now.

You finally admit defeat and settle down on the (f/c) set of earrings despite his preference being crimson. Sometimes, you just want to add a bit of yourself to the clothes you are wearing as a reminder to not lose yourself when indulging in his gifts. It's scary watching you slowly turn into nothing but a dress-up darling for the King. You feel less alive and more like a doll every time you go out with him. Your messy lines of thoughts are abruptly cut as a portal pops up. Standing straight and dusting the invisible dust off your fancy dress, you watched as Lucifer strides out gracefully. He pridely plants a soft kiss on your knuckles before taking in the most beautiful scenery before him-you. His eyes lingers a bit on your set of earrings before chuckling:

Darling, you look like the finest angel in hell.

Oh, Lucifer… You look away embarrassingly.

Fixing his coat, he opens another portal leading to a fancy-looking restaurant. The meal is going to cost more than all your organs combined. You think quietly to yourself.

…

You know what happens after the date. You and him. On the bed. Your clothes lying on where you don't fucking care because he will just buy you new one anyway. But you’ll be a liar if you don't find yourself enjoying the moment right now. It's your favorite activity. After intense moments, you always find yourself lying on his warm chest. It's addicting and capable of burning you alive. Maybe you do have a thing for him. Does Lucifer have a thing for you? Heaven knows. He tries to present his best version of himself for you. You don't know when the masterful actor will break his role and go off to find another toy. You just hope this lasts longer than you think. But that's enough thinking for today, you decide to focus on his gentle combing of your hair and the rise and fall of his chest instead, slowly drifting away to sleep.

Sleep fails you. It's one of those nights again where your thoughts are too loud.

Feeling a pressure on his chest, Lucifer let out a light grunt before opening his eyes. Your (e/c) ones stare back at him. You have always been… intriguing. That's why he keeps you so close, desperate for this relationship to work. He finds you addicting.

Do you love me?

Taken back by your question given the time and place, he scrambles his brain searching for a reasonable answer. The dinner went out as usual. He also makes sure to be as gentle as possible during the…uh…nevermind. Everything had been normal until now. Until you ask. Smiling sweetly at you, he tries to deliver his sentence as thoughtful as possible:

Of course, honey. You meant the world to me. What makes you question that?

Yeah, what makes you question that? You don't know. What do you even want from him? You don't know. Pushing further could lead to him getting annoyed and dumping you in the process. That reminds you of your old life. It's best to play it safe, maybe you are just confused. Afterall, you didn't have any time to process the relationship when all of this started. Nuzzling your head into his chest, you answered with your usual sweet bimbo voice that you hate so much:

Nothing! Just making sure.

You hear him let out a sign of relief and feel his shoulder relaxed. That night, you slept with a confused mess on your mind, just like any other night with him.

[brunchable]

The Stakeout - Day 1 || Steve Rogers × Agent!FReader

Day Two Words: 4.1K Themes/Warnings: Unspoken feelings towards each other. Growing tension. Sexual Attraction. Eventual Smut. Being stuck with each other. Summary: You've been assigned to do a stakeout with Steve for 5 days. Your accommodation: a cramped room with one mattress and a table with two rickety chairs. A/N: This is the tone setter. Steve's POV will always be at the end, and it'll be in 1st person. I don't have a tag list so. . .let me know if you want to be kept updated.

Steve Rogers pushed open the door to the small, dimly lit apartment, scanning the room with a soldier's eye. The place was a far cry from what you’re both used to—a single, cramped room with barely enough space to move around. 

You stepped in from behind him, your eyes taking in your temporary home. The first thing that greets you is the unmistakable scent of “eau de mildew” mixed with a hint of something burnt—probably dinner from three tenants ago. The wallpaper is peeling off in a way that makes you wonder if it’s trying to escape, revealing patches of cracked plaster that look like a map of an unknown, crumbling country.

The carpet is a masterpiece of stains, each one telling a story you’re pretty sure you don’t want to know. It’s so worn down that you can almost see the floorboards underneath, which might actually be an improvement.

The lighting is dim, with a single, flickering bulb that casts just enough light to make the shadows in the corners look even more menacing. In the middle of the room sits a mattress that looks like it was dragged out of a dumpster and lost the fight. It’s lumpy in all the wrong places, sagging in a way that suggests it has long given up on supporting anything heavier than a guilty conscience.

The only other furniture consists of two rickety chairs that look like they’re competing to see which one can collapse first. They wobble precariously even when they’re empty, as if they’re just waiting for the right moment to give up entirely.

The kitchen is a museum of outdated appliances, each one looking like it’s plotting against you. The stove has a layer of grease so thick it could probably survive a nuclear blast, and the sink faucet drips with the rhythm of a horror movie soundtrack.

You glance at the bathroom door, which is hanging slightly off its hinges, and decide that whatever’s in there can stay there. The mirror is so cloudy that it’s practically a portal to another dimension, and you’re pretty sure the toilet is older than Captain America.

The windows are streaked with grime, and one is patched with what looks like ancient duct tape. As you take it all in, you can’t help but think that the apartment is less a living space and more a haunted house that’s too tired to actually scare anyone.

“Cozy,” you muttered, trying to inject some humor into the situation. But even you couldn’t hide the discomfort in your voice, “If these walls could talk, they'd probably ask for a lawyer.”

Steve looked at the walls and instinctively covered his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to stifle the chuckle that slipped through—the urge to laugh bubbling up inside him.

The apartment was a disaster, a place so far beyond repair that it almost seemed comical in its neglect. And yet, it wasn’t the state of the place that got to him; it was you. He could already sense the sharp comment forming on your lips. 

Steve had always known you for your back-handed comments—remarkably clever, often brutally honest, and always perfectly timed. You had a knack for finding just the right words to undercut a situation, leaving everyone around you—Tony Stark included—scrambling for a retort. And in moments like these, even in a rundown apartment that could make the bravest Avenger cringe, you managed to make Steve smile, reminding him just why you were the perfect partner.

“It’s not much, but it’s all we’ve got for the next five days.” Steve turned to you, his expression apologetic.

“I've had worse.” You shrugged, tossing your bag onto the table. “At least the cockroaches seem to have packed up and left.”

You had worked together countless times before, but this was different. The close quarters, the extended time alone—usually you have the luxury to be in different rooms.

“I can sleep on the floor. You take the mattress.” Steve said, his eyes drifted to the double-bed size mattress on the floor. 

Your eyebrows shot up. “And have you waking up with a bad back on day one? No way. We can both fit.”

“I don’t mind the floor. Really.” Steve hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. 

“We’re both adults, Steve. It’s just sleeping. We’ll make it work.” You crossed your arms, giving him a determined look. 

He finally relented with a sigh. “Alright, if you say so.”

You spent the next few minutes in silence, each of you slipping into the familiar rhythm of setting up, though the state of the apartment made even the simplest tasks a challenge. The floorboards groaned underfoot with every step, and you had to be careful where you placed your equipment, wary of the spots that felt like they might give way entirely. The walls, pocked with holes and uneven surfaces, made it nearly impossible to secure the cameras properly; more than once, you found yourself muttering under your breath as the adhesive strips refused to stick, sliding down the peeling wallpaper as if in protest.

“Stick, you stupid tape!” you grumbled, pressing the strip back against the wall with more force than necessary, only to watch it slowly peel away once more. The tape seemed to be mocking you at this point, and your frustration was reaching a peak. But at the end, you made it work, as long as the equipment is working—you tell yourself.

The stakeout had reached that inevitable point where the monotony had set in. Hours of staring at surveillance footage had taken its toll, and both you and Steve were in desperate need of a break.

"Alright," you declared, tossing the deck of Uno cards between you. "We need something to keep me from going crazy."

Steve raised an eyebrow, looking at the cards with a mix of skepticism and amusement. "Uno? Seriously?"

"Come on," you teased, sitting cross-legged on the floor and motioning for him to join you. "It’s a classic. Plus, I promise not to go easy on you."

"I’d be disappointed if you did." Steve chuckled as he took a seat across from you, leaning in just slightly as he settled down. 

"Good. I wouldn’t want to let you down.” You grinned, shuffling the deck with practiced ease. 

The game started off lighthearted enough, with both of you trading cards and quips in equal measure. But as the game progressed, you couldn’t help but notice Steve’s hand growing increasingly full of cards, while yours remained relatively manageable.

"Got something against me, Y/N?" Steve asked, his tone playful as he drew yet another card from the deck. His hand was practically bursting with a rainbow of colors, and you couldn’t hide your grin.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you replied innocently, sliding another card onto the pile—a +4. "Just playing the game. Fair and square."

"Another +4? You sure this isn’t personal?" Steve stared at the card, then at you, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice, your smile turning teasing. "What if it is, Rogers? Think you can handle me?"

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. "I can handle a lot of things, but you might be more than I bargained for." 

You laughed softly, enjoying the banter. "I’ve been told I’m a handful."

"That’s one way to put it," he muttered, drawing four more cards with an exaggerated sigh. His amount of cards was now so large that he had to hold it in both hands, and you could see the struggle on his face as he tried to keep his composure.

The next round, you drew yet another +4 card, and Steve’s eyes widened in disbelief as you placed it down with a flourish.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he said, shaking his head, "Are you sure you’re not stacking the deck?"

"I would never," you replied, feigning shock. "It’s just pure luck."

"Pure luck, huh?" Steve shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "If this keeps up, I’m going to need another hand just to hold all these."

You leaned back, giving him a playful look. "You know, Steve, if it’s getting too much for you, you could always forfeit. I wouldn’t judge you. Much."

He met your gaze, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Oh, I’m not giving up that easily. But if I win, I expect some proper appreciation."

"Appreciation?" you echoed, amused. "What do you have in mind?"

He shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. "Maybe something that shows you really understand what it’s like to lose to me."

You tilted your head, your smile turning sly. "Careful what you wish for, old man. I might just surprise you."

By the time you dropped yet another +4 card, Steve threw his hands up in defeat. "That’s it! I’m calling it—this game is rigged!"

You were laughing so hard that you could barely speak. "It’s not rigged! You’re just—oh man, I can’t even—"

Steve couldn’t help but start laughing too, the ridiculousness of the situation finally breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. 

"I can’t believe I’m losing this badly at Uno," he said, shaking his head with a grin. "To you, of all people."

You leaned back, still chuckling. "Hey, I’m just that good."

He gave you a playful glare, but there was no hiding the smile on his face. "Remind me never to play cards with you again."

"Afraid of losing?" you teased, leaning a bit closer, your voice dipping into something softer, more suggestive.

"Afraid of getting a hand full of +4s," he corrected, still grinning. "You’re ruthless."

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "All’s fair in Uno and war, Rogers."

He shook his head, still laughing, as he began gathering up the cards. That’s when he noticed something odd—a few extra +4 cards peeking out from under where you were sitting. His eyes narrowed, as he zeroed in on the cards.

"Wait a minute," Steve said, his voice laced with suspicion as he pointed to the cards. "What’s that?"

Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly tried to shift, but Steve was faster, leaning forward and grabbing the edge of one of the cards sticking out from beneath you. You immediately tried to cover it up, sitting down harder to keep him from seeing the whole stack of +4s you had hidden.

"Nothing!" you blurted out, trying not to laugh as you squirmed to keep the cards hidden. But Steve’s grin only widened as he tugged on the card, the two of you now playfully wrestling over it.

"Nothing, huh?" he teased, managing to pull one of the cards free. "You’ve been cheating this whole time!"

You burst out laughing, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably. "I couldn’t resist! You should’ve seen your face every time I drew a +4!"

Steve wasn’t giving up, though. He leaned in closer, trying to snatch the remaining cards from you. "I knew it! I knew there was no way you could’ve drawn that many +4s!"

Still laughing, you tried to twist away, but Steve was persistent, his hands now playfully wrestling with yours as he tried to pry the cards from your grasp. 

"Alright, alright!" you finally gasped, surrendering the cards as you fell back into a fit of giggles.

Steve held up the extra +4 cards triumphantly, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

You wiped tears from your eyes, still giggling. "I’m sorry, but it was just too easy. I didn’t think you’d actually fall for it!"

"I’ll get you back for this, you know."

You flashed him a teasing smile. "I’m counting on it, Rogers."

“Yeah, yeah—let's get back to work.”

× × × × 

As night fell, you settled into your positions by the small window that overlooked the building you both were surveilling. Steve had the binoculars up, his posture rigid and focused. You sat beside him, close enough to see the reflection of his serious expression in the glass.

The target this time was Elias Novak, a crime boss who had been operating under the radar for years. He wasn’t just any criminal—Novak was careful, methodical, and always seemed to be two steps ahead of the authorities. But the intel they’d received suggested that Novak was planning something big, something that could have far-reaching consequences if they didn’t act quickly.

For weeks now, whispers had been circulating about a major arms deal in the works, with Novak at the center of it. The specifics were still murky—where the weapons were coming from, who they were being sold to—but one thing was clear: if the deal went through, it could unleash chaos. Weapons of that scale and sophistication in the wrong hands could destabilize regions, spark conflicts, or worse.

“Anything?” you asked quietly, not wanting to break his concentration.

“Not yet,” he replied, his voice a low rumble.

You leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better view yourself. Without thinking, you placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you leaned in. The sudden contact made Steve freeze for a moment, but he didn’t move, his focus still on the building across the street.

You didn’t notice the slight tension in his body as you peered through the binoculars. The movement brought you even closer, your shoulder brushing against his arm. 

“Let me see,” you murmured, your breath brushing against Steve’s ear as you took the binoculars from him. 

You adjusted the focus, squinting into the lens. “Hm, odd,” you said, your tone slightly disappointed.

You handed the binoculars back to him, but instead of moving away, you stayed where you were, still leaning against him slightly. Steve took the binoculars, his fingers brushing your for a brief moment, sending a spark of electricity through you.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, pretending to be absorbed in the task at hand. Finally, you realized how close you were and pulled back, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks slightly flushed. “Didn’t mean to crowd you.”

Steve shook his head quickly. “No, it’s fine. We’ve got to stay close to keep an eye on things.”

You nodded, but the moment of closeness had left you slightly off-balance. You resumed your watch, but both of you were acutely aware of the other’s presence.

Eventually, you decided to call it a night. You changed into your sleepwear first, turning your back to Steve for some semblance of privacy in the open room. When you turned around, you found him already settled on one side of the mattress, his broad frame taking up more space than he probably intended.

You slid in beside him, the mattress dipping under your weight. The proximity was inevitable, and you both tried to ignore it, lying stiffly side by side, your shoulders almost touching.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make yourself relax.

“Goodnight,” Steve replied, his voice equally tense. Minutes ticked by, and neither of you could sleep. 

Finally, you sighed, breaking the quiet. “This is going to be a long five days, isn’t it?”

Steve chuckled softly, a low, warm sound that made your chest tighten. “Yeah, it might be.”

You smiled, turning your head slightly to look at him. In the dim light, you could see the outline of his face, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, just like yours had been moments before.

“We’ll get through it,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

Steve turned his head to meet your gaze, his expression softening. “Always do.”

There’s a pause, and you decide to lighten the mood a little more. You grin mischievously, knowing it’s a little ridiculous but hoping it’ll ease the tension. 

“Just watch out for bed bugs, Rogers. I’ve heard they love big, strong super soldiers.”

He laughs, and it’s a genuine sound that makes your own smile widen. “Good to know. Guess I’ll have to keep the shield close, then.”

“Might want to sleep with one eye open,” you tease.

“I think I can manage that,” he says, his voice lighter now, more relaxed. You can tell that your little joke did its job, easing some of the tension between you. It’s a small victory, but it feels good.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, a smile still tugging at his lips.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you replied, and you can hear the warmth in his voice this time.

As sleep finally began to take hold, your last conscious thought was of Steve beside you—so close, yet still feeling so far away.

The mission had barely begun, but the real challenge, you realized, would be surviving the next five days without giving away the feelings you had tried so hard to keep hidden.

STEVE’S POV

The room is silent, except for the faint hum of traffic outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor. I keep my eyes fixed on the building across the street, trying to ignore the cramped space around me. We’ve been here for hours now, watching, waiting, but so far, nothing’s happened. Just another quiet night in the city.

I lift the binoculars again, scanning the windows across the way. Everything looks normal—too normal. The target hasn’t made a move yet, but I know better than to let my guard down. That’s when things go wrong.

Beside me, Y/N is sitting quietly, her presence a constant distraction. I’ve been trying to focus on the mission, but it’s hard when she’s this close. It’s not that I don’t trust her—hell, I trust her with my life—but there’s something about being alone with her, in this small space, that’s got my nerves on edge.

“Anything?” she asks, her voice soft, not wanting to disturb my concentration. I can hear the hint of curiosity, maybe even concern, in her tone. She’s as invested in this as I am, which only makes this harder.

“Not yet,” I reply, keeping my voice low. The tension between us is thick—to me at least, and I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend it’s just the stress of the mission.

All of a sudden, she leans in closer, placing a hand on my shoulder to steady herself as she peers over at the building. The contact is so casual, so innocent, but it sends chills through me. My muscles tense, and I have to remind myself to keep still, to act like this is nothing.

She’s close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body, smell the faint scent of her shampoo. Her shoulder brushes against my arm as she takes the binoculars from me, and I swear, my heart skips a beat. I’m a soldier, trained to handle high-pressure situations, but this—being this close to her—is more than I bargained for.

“Let me see,” she murmurs, her breath brushing against my ear as she adjusts the focus. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens. I’m supposed to be watching the target, not getting distracted by the woman beside me.

She spends a few moments peering through the binoculars, her face so close to mine that I can feel the heat radiating from her skin. My mind races, trying to think of anything but how it would feel to close that small distance between us. How it would feel to—

Stop it, Rogers. Focus.

She finally pulls back, handing the binoculars back to me. “hmm, odd,” she says, disappointment lacing her voice.

I nod, taking the binoculars from her, our fingers brushing for just a moment. It’s like a spark of electricity, and I have to force myself to keep my expression neutral. I can’t let her see what she’s doing to me.

She doesn’t move away, though. Instead, she stays close, leaning against me slightly as we continue to watch the building. Every second feels like an eternity. The heat of her body, the soft sound of her breathing—it’s all too much, but I can’t bring myself to step away. I’m not sure if I want to.

Minutes pass, and the tension between us only grows thicker. I’m hyper-aware of every inch of space between us—or the lack of it. My mind keeps drifting, imagining what it would be like if I just turned my head a little, if I just—

She pulls back suddenly, clearing her throat. “Sorry,” she says, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Didn’t mean to crowd you.”

I shake my head quickly, trying to sound like everything’s fine. “No, it’s fine. We’ve got to stay close to keep an eye on things.”

She nods, but the awkwardness lingers. I can feel it in the air. We resume our watch, but it’s like there’s a wall between us now, a wall built by unspoken words and feelings I’m not ready to admit.

Finally, after what feels like hours, we decide to call it a night. Y/N changes into her sleepwear first, giving me a bit of space. I keep my back turned, focusing on the mission, the window, anything but her. But no matter how hard I try, my mind keeps drifting, slipping into dangerous territory.

I hear the soft rustle of fabric as she pulls off her shirt, and my imagination runs wild before I can stop it. Images flash through my mind—her skin, smooth and soft under the dim light, the way her hair might fall over her shoulders as she changes, the subtle curve of her waist as she slips into something more comfortable.

Damn it, Steve. Stop.

I clench my fists, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. This isn’t the time for those kinds of thoughts. She trusts me, and I owe it to her—and to myself—to stay professional. But it’s hard, harder than I ever thought it would be, and the guilt gnaws at me.

I’m supposed to be better than this. Stronger. I’ve faced down enemies that would make most men run in fear, but here I am, struggling to keep my mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t.

The sound of her footsteps breaks through the haze of my thoughts, and I snap back to reality. I settle onto one side of the mattress, trying to take up as little space as possible. But when she slides in beside me, the mattress dips, and suddenly, she’s right there, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body through the thin sheets.

I stare up at the ceiling, every muscle in my body tense. This is going to be impossible.

“Goodnight,” she says softly, her voice breaking the heavy silence.

“Goodnight,” I reply, my voice tighter than I intended.

I can hear her breathing beside me, steady and soft, and I know she’s not asleep either. The tension between us is unbearable, a constant reminder of everything I’m trying to ignore, everything I can’t afford to feel right now.

She sighs, and I hear the frustration in her voice. “This is going to be a long five days, isn’t it?”

I can’t help but chuckle, a low, warm sound that surprises even me. “Yeah, it might be.”

She turns her head to look at me, and I do the same. In the dim light, I can see her eyes, the soft curve of her lips as she smiles. It’s a small moment of comfort, a brief reprieve from the tension that’s been building between us.

“We’ll get through it,” she says, and I can hear the determination in her voice.

I nod, “Always do.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then she adds with a mischievous grin, “Just watch out for bed bugs, Rogers. I’ve heard they love big, strong super soldiers.”

I can’t help but laugh, the tension easing just a bit. “Good to know. Guess I’ll have to keep the shield close, then.”

She chuckles softly, and it’s that laugh—the one that always catches me off guard. It’s light, pure, and it cuts through all the heaviness like a breath of fresh air. I could listen to that sound for hours, and never get tired of it.

“Might want to sleep with one eye open.” she adds, still teasing.

“I think I can manage that,” I reply, still smiling.

Her laughter fades into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, the weight of everything feels a little lighter. It’s a small joke, a silly one, but it’s enough to make the space between us feel less heavy, more manageable.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” I say again, this time with a little more warmth.

“Goodnight, Steve,” she replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

We both settle back, and though the tension isn’t completely gone, it feels like we’ve taken a small step toward something better. Maybe these five days won’t be as long as it seems.

[essycogany]

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments. Character Analysis.

Crying

A weird topic I’m more then happy to discuss.

Mandate: “Sonic’s not allowed to get overly emotional.”

I’m starting to think the mandates do break in a few instances. This one specifically is something I’m quite interested in because this is probably one of the rarest emotions Sonic displays. Getting sad/emotional.

Hopefully this essay will be a positive outlook on the mandate.

(Despite being a discussion about negative emotions.)

Examples Of Sonic Getting Emotional

I might not include everything, but the examples I have knowledge of will be stated. If you have anymore examples, I’d love to see them.

SATAM: Sonic cried when he and the Freedomfighters had to leave his Uncle Chuck in Robotnik’s lab.

Archie: The times Sonic cried/teared up was when the weight of a situation got to him, when something tragic occurred and all hope was lost, or when he was filled with joy after those instances ended. Those moments like others, didn’t go too far. (For the most part)

Pretty sure he never out right sobbed.

Underground: I think Sonic only cried when he was a little kid.

Correct me if I’m wrong.

X: In episode 52 Sonic allowed his tears to shed with his head turned away from us. He and Chris ran one last time before Sonic left through a portal to go home forever. It obviously crushed him even if we didn’t see his face.

Boom: Sonic cried/teared up in two episodes of the show. First when Tails was reminiscing about the Tornado and noticed Sonic wiping his eyes. Sonic replied, “What?” Then he, Knuckles, and Tails all cried when they thought the baby they took care of was gone. Also, in Archie when Stick’s rock friend broke or “Died,” everyone in team Boom morned it. Sonic included.

IDW: Sonic shed tears in the Scrapnick Island Issue. Even if it was “Mecha Sonic’s” tears I’ll count it anyways because it’s a good loophole and it came out of Sonic’s eyes.

Movie 1: It’s implied he indeed cried during the baseball scene. The sources being a deleted scene and story-board of the film.

Prime: This doesn’t really count, but Sonic teared up in the first episode when he was held captive by the Chaos Council and had light blasted in his eyes, when he was in darkness. Then Sonic actually cried in episode 7 when he ate a seadog. Either because he was home-sick or starving.

(In the last episode of season two it’s implied he might cry in the next episode. Especially with the shot of him looking on the verge of tears and then covered his eyes in the background of the last shot, but we’ll see.)

By the way. You can see the instant improvement from episode 1 to 7 of the tears animation. Just thought I’d say that.

My Overall Thoughts

Hold on because this is going to be a long ride.

First thing I’d like to discuss is the mandate itself.

I personally don’t believe it means, “Sonic shouldn’t cry.”

(Which has been stated a bunch)

If that were the case, I don’t think this majority of moments (specifically the recent ones) would’ve happened. I think the mandate meant Sonic couldn’t and or shouldn’t go too far with his emotions. I don’t think the mandate existing makes any since, but I won’t get into that.

My point is, Sonic can cry, just not in an overly dramatized way unless it’s done for comedic purposes.

(I say that because of Sonic Boom and the 7th episode of Prime examples. Which are obviously not meant to be taken seriously)

My opinions on Sonic crying.

It’s not necessarily needed, but I don’t mind if it’s done well. I do believe Sonic shouldn’t go too far unless the situation does.

One Issue in Archie when Sonic’s entire life was basically ruined, is a good example. If you’re going to have such calamities happen to him, especially since he has zero ego or mask to hold onto, I think it’s a fair enough scenario for him to react as drastic as his misfortune.

But I believe if he were to cry in something like the Metal Virus. (Just for an example) it could be like how Espio teared up after Vector’s sacrifice.

Crazy idea. Let’s talk about Shadow for a minute.

Shadow is one of the most stoic characters in the entire franchise. He barely smiles, gets excited, or displays any overly positive emotions. While Sonic rarely cries, gets angry, or shows any harsh negative emotions. Shadow and Sonic are opposites because of that.

Sonic’s overall a positive and outgoing guy who wants to keep moving forward. Whenever he has the time to worry, he runs. Faces his problems head on. Sonic only let’s a small amount of his true emotions out when helping someone else. In general Sonic’s a pretty optimistic character.

Shadow on the other hand is a reserved and serious guy. Who wants what’s best for the world too, but in a more calculated and planned out manner. But for some reason, in Sonic Adventure 2 after Amy encouraged Shadow to save the world, (Which reminded him of Maria’s real wish) He sheds a tear.

I repeat. Shadow is the most stoic character in the entire franchise. Who rarely shows his emotions. And yet he cries.

Why can’t Sonic? To be fair, Sonic usually doesn’t have time to think, let alone worry about how he feels. But if Shadow himself can have a short moment of releasing his emotional baggage, why can’t the blue blur?

Is Sonic even as happy as he let’s on?

I’d say he’s genuinely happy half of the time. Then the other half Sonic’s internalizing everything negative in him. Everyone knows Sonic’s overall upbeat, but we’ve seen plenty of times (In the Metal Virus specifically) when he’s thinking, or enduring the chaos around him, he doubts himself. Sonic has these insecurities and emotions he barely let’s anyone see.

Besides Issue #24

Even in Sonic Prime while Sonic shows the most guilt, sincerity, anger, fear, and sadness in the show. He sometimes still puts on a front and acts like everything’s fine.

Sonic Unleashed I’m pretty sure was the first and only time we’ve seen him mope for a minute. All because Amy didn’t know who he was. So, he does have some level of insecurities lingering every once in a while.

Can Sonic crying even work?

How I interpret him crying is when he’s alone. Some people theorize in certain instances like SA2 and Unleashed with Shadow and Chip’s sacrifices, he cried a little. I’m fascinated by this idea. I believe it’s the most in character way to let him cry. Maybe even something like X when his face isn’t shown, but you know how he’s feeling.

Even if we do see Sonic’s face, him crying or tearing up could be shown without being over the top. Normalize it in a way that doesn’t fly off the handle. His expression could have a hint of frustration, anger, or exhaustion. Crying is normal and I don’t see Sonic crying as out of character because it’s been done plenty of times.

It’d be nice if it happened in order to make Sonic feel more believable and sympathetic. As long as the dude’s not on the floor whaling, I’m sure it can work.

Final Thoughts

There are other ways to show Sonic’s emotions. Again, crying doesn’t have to happen, but it does help the writing feel less unnecessarily limited of what kind of emotions can be displayed on this character.

Though there are benefits too. Like finding fun loopholes or small animated details like in IDW and Prime. Sonic not crying so much makes the times he does (or may do in the future) feel earned and impactful. The examples before prove it can be done without taking away what makes Sonic who he is. It just needs to be subtle, quiet, and quick. (Or humorous) Depends on what you think.

At the end of it all, Sonic’s a tough hedgehog. Him shedding a few tears won’t ever change that.

Stay Creative! 💜

[flufffilleddonut]

Triangulum Experimentum

Summary - While working on the portal’s blueprints, an accidental discovery quickly derails Ford and Bill’s plans for progress.

Word Count - 1650

Note - This fic was written for Day 15 (“Are you ticklish?”) of Tickletober 2024.

-

Stanford Pines was in the mindscape, a void of space containing distant stars and galaxies. Floating journals, books and scrolls filled the immediate area, along with other items familiar to Ford. This place existed in his head, after all.

Ford would have been all alone here, if it hadn't been for the company of his muse, Bill Cipher.

The two were working on equations and mathematical formulas together, pertaining to the portal that Ford was currently building, under Bill’s direction. The portal was nearing completion, and would soon be ready for testing.

Bill carefully observed the calculations projected in the space, searching for any errors or possible areas of improvement. Ford, standing near the dream demon, was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment with an old-fashioned feather quill.

“Everything looks fine to me, Sixer. Are you sure you need to alter the blueprints?” Bill inquired, still scanning over their handiwork.

Ford continued to scrawl away, determined to improve the device.

“I think there’s a way to make the gateway more stable. I just have to figure out the right equation.”

“Whatever gets you there, Fordsy.” Bill commented, his eye still trained on the projections.

A moment of silence passed between the two, before being broken by Ford, who finally came up with a solid equation.

“Aha!” He cried out. “I think I’ve done it! Bill, take a look at-”

As Ford began to move toward Bill, eager to show off his work, a journal happened to float directly in the path of his legs. As Ford stepped forwards, he tripped on the object, losing his balance and lurching forwards.

Bill turned just in time to see Ford fall. As Ford did so, however, his arms flailed outwards, the one holding the quill being extended towards Bill. The feather made contact, swiftly brushing down the length of Bill’s side as Ford went down.

As the soft object glided across Bill, he felt an internal ‘shock’ of sorts run through the area of contact. Seemingly automatically, he jerked back, a small chuckle escaping.

“Hah!”

“Bill! Are you alright?” Ford asked, pushing up his glasses as he reorientated himself.

Bill, confused about what had just happened, shook the event from his mind momentarily to address Ford.

“‘Course I am! You can’t get hurt in the mindscape, remember?”

Ford was still concerned.

“I know,” He began, “but you seemed to recoil when the quill…”

Ford trailed off, eyeing the feathery instrument in his hand. He looked back at Bill, who was floating indifferently.

No, it can’t be…

“Bill, are you… ticklish?” Ford questioned.

Bill squinted, unfamiliar with the term.

“T… tick…?”

“Ticklish. You know… knismesis and gargalesis?”

Bill stared blankly.

“It’s this thing where if someone makes contact with you in a certain way, it makes you laugh, and your body sort of… spasms.” Ford explained.

Bill chuckled in response. “Humans sure do have the most useless reflexes! It's hilarious!”

“That’s why I’m wondering how you experienced it.” Ford stated. “Could it be an effect of my dream on the mindscape? Or something else?”

As Ford pondered, Bill leaned back, crossing his legs and placing his hands behind his top point as he bobbed up and down in the air.

“Bill, would you mind if I tested a few things? Just to collect some data. I promise it won’t take that long.”

Bill stopped. He was hesitant to relive the event that had just occurred moments prior, but this was probably the closest he’d ever gotten to having someone fully construct his portal. Getting on Ford’s bad side at this stage in the game would result in a lot of wasted progress. Besides, Bill found pain to be hilarious! This couldn’t be all that different.

“Sure thing! Knock yourself out, Sixer. Just as long as you get back to work on the portal right after.”

“Great!” Ford exclaimed, beaming. He let go of the parchment, which floated off into the distance.

Bill’s ankle was suddenly seized, with Ford then pulling the triangle closer to his body. Bill dangled upside-down as Ford secured his grasp around the ankle.

Still clutching the quill, Ford positioned the feather-end so that it was hovering just above Bill’s foot.

“Test one, commencing… now.” Ford made contact, gently swirling the feather in circles over the small, black surface.

There it was again! Bill, almost instinctively, started kicking his free leg as the same sensation from before now radiated over his foot. Light giggles bubbled up.

“I see that you’re struggling.” Ford noted. “Does that mean you’re feeling something?”

“Nohot on puhurpose.” Bill giggled. “Ihit’s the sahame feelihing from befohore, but lehess intehense.”

“Are you giggling voluntarily?” Ford asked, continuing to swirl the feather.

“Noho I’m nohot! Thihis isn’t vehery fuhunny!” Bill lightly pulled at his ankle, but Ford’s grip was firm. His other leg continued to kick freely.

Ford couldn’t help but smirk to himself.

Maybe not to you.

“Alright, let’s try somewhere else.”

Ford pulled back the feather, giving Bill time to calm down. He then moved it to Bill’s side, against which he began to glide the feather up and down at a steady pace.

Bill’s eye widened as he got a brief glimpse of the intensity of the feeling at his side, this time being deliberately produced. He quickly grabbed onto the feather with his hands, moving it out and away from his body.

Ford chucked.

“Bihill, I’m trying to run an experiment here. I can’t complete it and get back to work on the portal if you’re going to resist.”

Bill could sense a slight hint of tease in Ford’s tone. He imagined all of the monstrosities that he could unleash onto Ford for putting him through this. However, he didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize the portal’s production. Narrowing his eye at Ford, Bill slowly released the feather.

Once free, Ford returned the object to Bill’s side, continuing the same motion as before.

Bill burst out laughing.

“Hah ha hah! Ahahaha! Whyhy ihis thihis eheven a thihing?” He questioned, drawing his three free limbs in towards himself.

“Well, the most popular theory is that it was developed as a means of learning self-defense. Hence, why more vulnerable areas of the body tend to be more sensitive.” Ford explained, keeping up his motions with the feather.

“Yohou’re, ha, enjohoying yohourself, hah ha, too muhuch, Sihixer!” Bill managed to comment through his laughter.

Ford chuckled.

“Bill, tell me, which is worse? Here~…” Ford slowly dragged the feather down Bill’s side, “or here~?” Ford used his sixth (pinky) finger to lift up Bill’s elbow, effectively raising his arm and allowing the feather access to his underarm. Ford swiftly moved the feather into the area, swiping it repeatedly against the surface.

Bill’s laughter became more frantic.

“HaH! AhAHah! TheHEre! ThAHats muhUHUch woHOrse!”

“Good to know.” Ford said, grinning. He pulled back the quill, tossing it aside to float off into the distance, and dug into Bill’s side and underarm with his six-fingered hand.

Bill was overcome with hysterics, as he quickly learned that fingers tickle a lot more than feathers do.

“AHAHAHA! SIHIHIXEHER! HAHAHA!”

Bill noted through his haze that Ford showed no signs of stopping anytime soon, and at this point was clearly just having fun torturing the dream demon. Bill recognized that he wouldn’t be able to endure it for much longer.

“ENOHOHOUGH!” Bill yelled out, his yellow surface turning red and the colours of his limbs, hat and eye inverting.

Ford, taking Bill’s outburst as a sign that he was reaching his limit, removed his hand and released Bill’s ankle.

Bill spun himself upside-right, moving backwards and out of arm's reach from Ford. He hovered for a moment, recovering, before his colours faded back to normal.

Ford smiled weakly at Bill as he spoke.

“Bill, I’d like to test just one more-”

“No.”

“I promise it’s just one last small thing.”

“I’m warning you, Sixer. You better watch it.”

“I’ll get straight to work on the portal right after! You can hold me to that.”

Bill narrowed his eye at Ford, who flashed an innocent look in return.

“Fine.” Bill conceded, crossing his arms.

He floated closer to Ford, who grabbed hold of him before propping him up on one arm. With the other, Ford directed his hand to the brick in Bill’s pattern directly below his bowtie. He then wiggled his six fingers up against the area, being careful to support Bill with his other arm.

Bill curled in towards himself as the action elicited a steady stream of giggles from the triangle. He uncrossed his arms, lightly grabbing onto Ford’s sleeve as his legs fluttered.

Ford continued for a minute or two before slowing his hand to a stop. Bill remained on his arm for a moment, in a fuzzy daze, before shaking his mind clear and floating up and off to the side.

Bill adjusted his bowtie before speaking.

“Did you get your data, Sixer?” Staring Ford in the face, his expression and tone were dripping with sarcasm.

Ford averted his eyes, smiling sheepishly.

“Uh, yeah, yeah I did. Thanks for participating. Though I may have gotten a bit carried away…” He mumbled his last sentence.

Ford glanced around before becoming visibly concerned.

“No! My equation! The paper must have floated away! I’ll never find it now.”

“Hey, I’ve got a question.”

Ford looked over at Bill, who completely disregarded his statement and was now slowly floating in his direction.

“Do you experience the spasm reflex, Fordsy?”

Ford’s eyes widened. He began moving backwards.

“You know what, it’s been great here Bill, but I think that I should head back to my reality and finish up the portal.”

Bill stopped moving.

“Attaboy, Sixer. Attaboy.”

Ford then woke up with a start. He placed his hand on his head and gave a sigh of relief.

That was a close one.

-

[tizeline]

After the season one finale and seeing as Leon would be trustworthy enough to go to the lair and spend some time with Donnie, April and Splinter would he learn some ninja skills ?

Like I imagine the Lou jitsu way of fighting might suit him better than Draxum's mystic warrior style and he might pick it up easier and that would help his relationship with Splinter while also improving his self esteem as he finds something he feels good at.

Oh yeah Leo's training under Draxum was very fighting-focused, but with the ninja arts there is so much more to it than the combat. If we wanna get more historically accurate, I'm pretty sure ninja were supposed to mostly resort to fighting as a last resort, most of the time it was better for a ninja to remain hidden. All of this is to say, Leo could learn quite a bit from both Splinter and Donnie.

Let's be honest though, stealth would NOT be Leo's strong-suit. I mean, theoretically he could be good at it, Leo's pretty fast and agile, and I'm sure his portalling abilities could help out a ton, problem is the fact that he's really theatrical and a total show-off so I don't know how well he would do with actually staying hidden. Then again, Splinter is also a fucking theater nerd so if he figured out stealth then maybe Leo isn't a lost cause. (Donnie at least in this AU is great at stealth, he kinda had to be considering he was never gonna beat all three of his brothers in direct combat)

When Leo finally starts connecting to his Hamato ancestry and unlocks his Ninpō, his mystic powers would certainly benefit from that. But I dunno, as useful as Leo's portals are I feel like Donnie and Mikey would benefit a lot more considering how versatile their mystic powers are compared to Leo's more specific abilities.

What I'm trying to get at is that what Leo really needs is to figure out his own fighting style, his own method of doing things. Leo at first would be ecstatic over getting to train with Splinter and Donnie, he knows he never excelled under Draxum's teachings so this is what he must have been missing! Being a ninja would be His Thing, the thing that he's really good at. So Leo goes into the ninja training fully expecting things so go easy this time, and then they just... don't. He's not terrible at it by any means, but the ninja arts don't come as naturally to him as he'd hoped. And he keeps comparing himself to Donnie this time, who's way better at this than Leo is, and suddenly he's back at square one. Leo, never bad but always below average, more importantly, never quite as good as his brothers.

Eventually, Leo would figure out his own unique strengths, his tactical mind, his manipulation skills, his possible leadership cababilities. Who knows, maybe he even learns to stop basing his sense of self-worth on his fighting abilities lol?

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 3

Masterpost

"You still good?" Sam's voice crackles through the walkie talkie, as Danny flies erratically through and rooms. Danny ignores it for the moment, focusing on his current task. Their distraction plan had certainly worked, but now Danny has to maintain his balancing act, keeping the giw agents engaged without actually getting himself hurt. "Danny?" Sam asks again.

"Real great timing, Sam." Danny mutters, changing his tragectory to straight up. He's on the roof in moments, and allows his body to slip back into tangibility without dropping his invisibility.

"I'm getting a workout for sure, but they haven't hit me yet." Danny says, the moment he has the walkie talkie in hand.

"Good." Sam's relief is clear. Sam was the least enthusiastic about this arg idea from the start, but this current plan, with Danny acting as a distraction had driven her almost frantic with frustration. "We're almost done filming, so you can probably start trying to lose them. And let us know if you need help."

"Yeah? What, are you gonna go ghost and come distract them too?" The joke comes out a bit harsher than intended and Danny immediately winces. "Sorry. Sorry that was supposed to be a joke."

Sam doesn't immediately respond and Danny hears footsteps on the stairs, so he jams the walkie talkie back in its holder and takes off, making sure to fly away from where his classmates are working.

Moments after he drops back into intangibility, the door to the roof slams open and three giw agents rush out, already taking shots in his direction. By now their strategies are familiar though, and Danny is already making evasive moves as he flies off.

"Straight lines are boring anyways," he snickers, dipping down, so he can fly directly through the floor of another building, and then shooting straight up for a moment before continuing on. "Though it would be nice if their damn sensors could stop improving..."

On the other side of town, Danny's class has just finished recording footage of their school with untreated tech. Tonight, Wes and Tucker will start adding the dozens of layers of encryptions and hidden messages that they've been layering their project with.

A surprising number of people have already followed their channel, but so far they've only broken through around two layers of the content they've posted, and certainly haven't even come close to finding the encoded file drops, where they've actually hidden the bulk of the information.

That's the reasoning for this latest idea. As far as the plot of their series so far, the green-tinted, garbled footage won't make any sense. So, if they can get this out there without getting caught, it might help queue the people investigating their videos to dig a little more in search of an explanation.

"Halt, ghost scum!" The booming voice below Danny is immediately recognizable as his dad, and he just rolls his eyes and groans, without slowing. The good news about his parents joining the hunt is that they'll likely distract the giw's own efforts. But it also means they're gonna be extra annoying when he gets home tonight. It's the kind of trade-off that Danny will take every time, but he reserves the right to be annoyed by it.

Danny's parents, like everyone else, are far from happy with the giw's occupation and quarantine of Amity Park. Jazz should be heading off to college in a matter of months, but instead she's going to be stuck here. Jazz hadn't even bothered sending off applications this year - a matter than had been the target of much distress by their parents, and the first thing that got them to really stop and think about what the giw were doing.

Recently, they'd even considered shutting down their portal, but unfortunately that had proved more complicated than would be reasonable. So ghosts continued to drift through, and Danny continued to swiftly catch them before the giw or his blundering parents could show up to cause problems. Most days he managed to get the ghosts captured and himself out without serious injury but, well, even if his parents had stopped developing new weapons, lately, the giw had only ramped up their efforts.

And Danny was stuck in the middle of it all.

"We're done and out, Danny. Please tell me you haven't gotten yourself hurt." Sam's voice comes through again, startling Danny away from his thoughts. He glances back behind him, and is relieved to see no signs of chase behind him.

"Yeah, we're good. My parents showed up with some real clutch timing. Maybe if we're lucky, they crashed into each other and they're out a vehicle or two."

"Yeah, if we're lucky." Sma laughs. "Meet up at the arcade?"

"Sure thing." Danny says, ducking into a nearby store and dropping his ghost form safely in the bathroom.

[prettypumpum]

Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence,

Word count: 1032

I woke up with a start. When I gathered my thoughts, I realized I was still on the plane bringing us back.

“You okay, last one?” asked Elis, our pilot.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, exhaling a bit, my hands still trembling from the adrenaline.

“My ex, she believed in rocks and that kind of nonsense,” he began. “To improve sleep, you need rose quartz, or lapis lazuli… no, wait, aventurine,” he continued, a bitter smile on his lips.

“You sure?” Logan asked me, his face betraying his unease. I could almost see his thoughts swirling, as if he was weighing each moment spent on this plane. I noticed his fingers gripping the edge of the metal bench we were sitting on, his knuckles turning white at every bump.

To be fair, the flying coffin we were crammed into was far from the comfort of the Blackbird, with its soft leather seats and sophisticated controls. Here, each vibration of the plane reminded me that we were miles above the ground, with prayer likely the only thing keeping us in the air.

After what happened last night, we hadn’t really talked. I decided to blame “the incident” on alcohol. After all, he’d never shown the slightest hint he could be interested. And if fate hadn’t forced us to meet, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.

“She decided to stop loving me overnight. I’m sure it’s because of that guy she met at work,” Elis added, taking off his cap and rubbing his head, visibly frustrated. “We were supposed to get married. My father was supposed to come; he’s really sick, lung cancer…” He continued, growing sadder. “We were super close, he and I… he’s the one who taught me to fly.”

“Great, someone put another coin in the machine,” muttered Wade, still on his phone. He’d been glued to it since yesterday, probably chatting with Vanessa.

“You know, sometimes when I’m flying, I think: ‘Go on, let go, let this bird crash, you’ve got nothing left to lose, old man,’” he concluded with a nervous laugh.

At his words, Logan and I exchanged a panicked look over the pilot’s words. Logan’s fear of flying was endearing, but it was becoming more realistic by the second.

“Are we almost there?” I asked Elis, a bit panicked.

“Yeah, we’ll be landing soon. Buckle up,” he replied. I could feel the plane descending slightly, which wasn’t very reassuring given the pilot’s mental state.

Logan was completely tense. I pushed my hand over his clenched fist to calm him. I could feel tiny metal points emerging from his knuckles, pricking the skin of my palm. As the plane began to land, a second large hand rested on mine, gently holding it. My hand seemed tiny, trapped between the mutant’s large, warm hands.

“Here we are, folks,” Elis shouted cheerfully. “Say, Lydia, I was saying we could grab a drink after…”

Logan was the first to get off the plane.

“She’s not interested,” Logan growled, cutting him off. I gave him a small, embarrassed smile.

“No worries,” Elis said, fiddling with his cap as we walked away from the plane. “Oh, your friend came to pick you up,” he pointed out, gesturing toward the SUV behind the fences of the small airport.

Laura was waiting for us, sitting on the hood, playing with her phone. It’s true Al couldn’t come get us, which was probably for the best.

“It’s their daughter,” Wade said, still glued to his screen but nodding toward Logan and me.

“Oh,” Elis gasped, shocked. “But how old were you when you had her exactly?”

It was one of many unsettling things about this story. Laura was eighteen, Logan had fought in the Civil War, and I’d just celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday.

“It’s complicated,” I replied, saying goodbye to Elis.

“Hi,” she greeted us with a smile. “Did you have a good flight?”

“We’re still alive,” Logan replied, climbing into the passenger seat.

I smiled at Laura before settling in the back while she took the wheel. Wade joined me after stowing his gear in the trunk, keeping with him the extra supply Enrique had given us.

“Yes, even if he’s weird and never shuts up, he’s cheap, so let’s all give him a wave,” Wade said, flashing a bright smile. I joined in, enthusiastically waving back at the pilot as he did the same, continuing until Laura had driven us far enough away.

“Look, the whole family’s together,” Wade grinned. “Papa Bear, Mama Bear, Baby Bear, and Goldilocks,” he said, pointing to each of us, ending on his scarred face.

“Enough with your crap,” Logan growled, clearly not amused by Wade’s jokes. The whole “family” thing bothered him as much as, if not more than, me. Unlike me, Laura had known his version of Logan, who was, after all, the best Logan. It was hard for him to live up to that legend.

“Stop bugging Logan,” I asked Wade softly.

“Yes, Mama,” he replied. “It made you all tough too, huh?” he asked through the window, as if someone could see him.

“Wade,” Logan growled louder.

I was grateful Laura was there because otherwise, Logan would’ve already driven his claws into Wade’s throat and started a fight.

“Alright, calm down, kitten. Laura, you can call me Uncle Wade,” I said, joking. I could see the mutant boiling with anger. “Laura, could you be a sweet little kitty and drop me off at Vanessa’s, please?”

“Of course, Uncle Wade,” Laura replied sarcastically.

“Don’t encourage him,” Logan told her.

“His humor, she gets it from our side of the family,” Wade whispered, nudging me with his elbow.

[dovesdreaming]

The magic between us

Summary: Carlos de vil unexpectedly meets you on your arrival from wonderland. Your card tricks (and yourself) pique his interest.

Request

Masterlist

Carlos de Vil had seen many strange things in his life. Growing up on the Isle of the Lost, surrounded by villainous magic, he’d come to expect the unexpected. But meeting someone from Wonderland? That was a whole new level of strange. The day you arrived at Auradon Prep was one of the rare calm days for Carlos. Mal and Evie were off on some mission, Jay was tangled up in sports, and Carlos found himself tinkering with one of his many inventions on the lawn near the library. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, making it feel like just another peaceful day. Then you appeared.

A portal, shimmering with vibrant colors and swirls of patterns, materialized out of thin air. Carlos straightened up, his invention forgotten as he watched in wide-eyed fascination. Out of the portal, you stumbled, looking disoriented but unbothered. You had a deck of cards clutched in your hand, your outfit a riot of colors that matched the Wonderland aesthetic, and a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Who-what-uh…” Carlos stammered, standing up and trying to make sense of the situation. “Who are you?” You smiled, a little wicked and a lot of wonder. “I’m from Wonderland” you said simply, like it explained everything. “The name’s Y/N”.

Carlos blinked, still trying to process. “Like..Wonderland Wonderland?” You chuckled, twirling a card between your fingers. “Is there any other?” As if to prove your point, you flicked the card towards the ground, and as soon as it touched the earth, it exploded into a burst of colorful fireworks. Red, green, and gold sparks showered into the air, crackling in a way that made Carlos grin despite himself. “That’s… that’s pretty cool” he admitted, his curiosity piqued. You shrugged. “It’s just a little something I can do. Wonderland magic, you know? Cards are kind of my thing. Like these”.

You threw down another card, this time a Queen of Hearts, and instantly a life-sized card soldier appeared, fully armored and at attention. The soldier snapped to attention and saluted both you and Carlos, stiff and formal. Carlos took a cautious step closer, eyes wide with awe. “You can summon soldiers from your cards?” “Mmmhmm”you hummed, flipping through the deck. “Each card does something different. Some summon creatures, some create illusions, and some” you threw down a ten of clubs, and suddenly the air was filled with glowing, dancing lights, “are just for fun”. Carlos’s mind raced. As a natural inventor, he was always looking for ways to improve his gadgets and skills. Your magic, your Wonderland ability, was something he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but the idea of it? It fascinated him.

“Could you teach me?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. You tilted your head, studying him. “Teach you? To use Wonderland magic? You’re not from Wonderland, though”. “I know, I know. But you can’t just show me something that cool and expect me not to want to learn. Besides” Carlos’s grin turned playful, “I’m pretty smart. I can figure things out”. You considered him for a moment, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Alright, Carlos de Vil, I’ll teach you. But on one condition”. “Name it”. “You help me find my way around Auradon Prep” you said, looking around at the grand castle-like school. “This place is huge, and I’m still not entirely sure why I’m here. The Queen of Hearts said it was ‘to learn’ but I’m not exactly a straight-A student”. Carlos chuckled. “Deal. I’ll give you the grand tour. And in exchange, you show me how to make fireworks with cards”.

Over the next few weeks, Carlos became your unofficial guide to Auradon, and in return, you taught him the basics of Wonderland magic. You showed him how to manipulate the cards, how to channel their energy into tangible creations. It didn’t take long for Carlos to get the hang of it, he had a natural knack for figuring out patterns and codes, and Wonderland magic, though strange, followed its own set of rules. The two of you became inseparable. Where Carlos went, you were there, flipping cards or summoning soldiers to help carry books or cause minor chaos in the halls. It wasn’t long before Mal, Evie, and Jay took notice.

“What’s up with you and the Wonderland kid?” Jay teased one day after practice. “You two are always together”. Carlos rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile on his face. “It’s not like that. We’re just..learning from each other. They’re teaching me magic”. Evie raised an eyebrow. “Magic? Carlos, you hate magic”. “Not Wonderland magic” he corrected, thinking of the way your face lit up when you pulled off a particularly tricky spell. “Wonderland magic is different. It’s... fun”. Mal leaned in, smirking. “Uh-huh. Sure. It’s the magic that’s fun, not the person teaching it”. Carlos felt his cheeks flush. “Shut up”.

One evening, as the sun set and the sky was painted in hues of pink and orange, you and Carlos found yourselves sitting by the edge of the lake, cards scattered between you. “I never thought I’d be friends with a de Vil” you said, tossing a card in the air and catching it effortlessly. “Let alone one who doesn’t act like a villain”. Carlos smiled softly. “I guess we’re both full of surprises”. You glanced at him, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. “Yeah, like how you’re actually getting pretty good at this” You nodded towards the cards in his hand.

Carlos had been practicing. He flicked a card onto the ground, a simple two of hearts, and immediately a small burst of red sparks flew up. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “Not bad, huh?” he said proudly. You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Not bad at all. You’ve come a long way, Carlos”.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle in the sky, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you had found something, someone, worth staying in Auradon for. And Carlos, for the first time in his life, felt like he had found a kind of magic he actually wanted to hold onto. And maybe-just maybe-it wasn’t entirely the cards that made his heart race.

-

Thank you for reading!

[ddoxhan]

my love is all mine

my baby here on earth showed me what my heart was worth so, when it comes to be my turn could you shine it down here for her?

word count : 4.4k words

genre : fantasy; alternating between fluff and angst that would make your heart clench; childhood best friend! aeri x pianist (but actually a time traveler)! reader; arriving at this dimension, you realized how much you still love her

t/w : mentions of death, apocalypse thingz

a/n : full version out weeeeee :D that was some roller coaster of realization and pain knowing that nothing lasts but one thing :') please do leave some feedback so I can improve when it comes to plot heavy fics and enjoy !

tic, tic, tic, tic.

'where am I?'

your surroundings were unfamiliar, as it should be. but with it, came a sense of comfort. whenever you warped through the portal, your head would hurt like the worst hangover for a while. but this time, it unusually hurt less. you were sitting by the piano, a music sheet of chopin, perhaps. you weren't the most well-versed around music.

you stood from the piano stool to slowly observe the things in the room in hopes of gathering more information about this person. undoubtedly, you looked like yourself but this body you possessed wasn't you. you were orphaned, barely survived the apocalypse of your own world, thrown into a dystopian organization served to stop further apocalypses in other worlds.

learning about the countless dimensions you had to travel to, surely, this one couldn't differ more than the rest. the person who lived as you in this world had everything you had ever wanted. loving and supportive parents, friends who were always there for her, a promising future career as an aspiring pianist. but as you gain the memories of this person, the depressing emotions were rather contradicting.

this person felt lonely amidst of everyone, she never felt understood. no one had ever saw through those smiles and laughs. not even this girl who looked like her best friend. then tears started to flow down your cheeks uncontrollably. it couldn't be. she couldn't be.

feeling a little dizzy, you took a seat on the piano stool as you dried your tears and tried to wrap your head around the current situation. of the many dimensions, why this one? you tried so hard to forget everything about her, drown down emotions that were unnecessary for your line of work. it had been forever since the last time you had thought of her. and this time, she wasn't going to just be a memory.

as the metronome lulled you into a daze, you were brought back out of it by the sudden swing open of the bedroom door.

"hey! we literally said to meet up at our usual place! what's taking you so long?"

"huh?"

a girl barged into your room and folded her arms against her chest, seemingly upset that you had stood her up. but you couldn't seem to remember when you had made that promise to her.

it was her. it had been so long, too long since you've seen her with your own eyes. you didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that you had never encountered her in the past dimensions. but seeing her in front of you, it was getting really hard to not break down in tears.

the wave of guilt and sadness washed over you as you took in how beautiful she still looked, or rather this version of her looked exactly like the love of your life. the love of your life who you couldn't hold onto as her hand slipped from yours, forever gone as she disappeared into the smoke of debris.

you still needed time to gain the memories, so you made up an excuse, hoping she would buy it.

"sorry, it must've slipped my mind. you still up for it?"

you stood from your piano stool as you flashed her an apologetic smile. that made her sigh and roll her eyes, once again defeated by your puss-in-boots eyes cause really, there was never once she had been able to not waiver at the sight of them.

"you bet I am, now get your ass outta here and we have to hurry cause we're already late for the performances."

the look of confusion on your face makes the girl pause in her tracks, extremely confused and cautious of you because you didn't seem to be her best friend, in the sense that you didn't feel like her.

"performances. weren't you there when jaemin told us they'd be busking today?"

"right, yes. the boys' first big performance for that influencer's event."

that part of the memory registered just at the right timing. if you took any longer to respond like her best friend, she would have probably took the shovel in the backyard to whack you. the girl wasn't like your lover, way feistier and carefree. it served as a reminder that she wasn't, this girl was not the woman you had loved wholeheartedly and should not be.

"yes. now let's go."

the girl had to drag you out of your house because of how slow you seemed unusually.

"god, I was so close to knocking some sense into you."

"sorry, I've just been really out of it today."

your infamous cheeky smile never fails to have her shake her head in disbelief. in disbelief of how adorable you always looked with it.

"jaemin! we're here!"

aeri screams across the barricade as the said boy turned his head towards her direction, while you trudged behind her, ensuring that she wasn't falling over anything or anyone from excitement.

you learned her name when you two left your room as your dad shouted her name from downstairs. aeri, it was a pretty name and suited her really well. you couldn't help but draw similarities between the woman you knew and her. but they were also two very different people and that was something you shouldn’t forget.

"hey! I thought you two wouldn't make it before our cue. what happened?"

he had known you two for ages and it was unlikely of you to be late to something, especially when it involved close friends.

"this girl here had forgotten about this. unbelievable if you ask me."

"that's quite true. you good?"

aeri and jaemin truly cared for the person you are temporarily posing as. the gazes that you were receiving felt foreign, accountable to your lack of interaction with people. people who actually mattered to you. each and every time you had warped to another dimension, you would disappear to do what you must to prevent apocalypses regardless of what memories flowed through your consciousness.

it doesn’t take long to get everything in place and run the plans to break the sequence of events, given that you were one of the organization’s elite agents with a flawless portfolio. all that didn’t matter to you, life was already meaningless so why care much?

but the moment you had seen that very smile on her face in that photo frame, you wanted to stay in this dimension longer. even if it meant spending more time than you should in a single dimension.

"yeah, don't worry about me. I just had a splitting headache earlier today and I've just been out of it. I'm all good now though."

you regained your composure after some time and adjusted well with your new surroundings. the reaffirming clutch of your hand in aeri's was very comforting surprisingly, but you didn't understand why.

although she had bore similar physical traits with your lover, there was no reason to feel the warmth seeping through the clasp of your hands. and before your consciousness could give you an answer, your blood ran cold as the image of watching her slip through your fingers into nothing, bringing up the very emotions you were trying to suppress for years.

there was not a single day that you could sleep well as the endless nightmare of that event left you in a void of emptiness and desperation. the desperation of wanting to redeem yourself by saving other dimensions where different versions of her would live, regardless of whether different versions of you were there for her.

but absolutely none of that, would bring your lover back into your arms, safe and sound. smiling at you like those mundane days you had, which you would give anything to get them back.

"great. you two find your seats near the fronts, performers' privilege."

he proudly points towards two empty seats which were inevitably yours since the show had already started 20 minutes ago.

"wow, for once, na jaemin has done an amazing job."

"for once, stop roasting me. now shoo, I need to get my hair fixed."

the bickering between the two seemed so natural that you had kept quiet, not knowing if it was your place to interfere the conversation.

this was something you had always feared when you meddle with a dimension, the feeling of belonging. belonging somewhere that wasn't meant for you. would it hurt to feel? no. but it hurts knowing that whatever you did in this dimension, it wasn't you who did it. in the eyes of others, it was someone else. the deeds you do, the memories you share, the love you yearn.

once upon before the apocalypse, life was like this. concerts, outings, bonding, but it was also a time of weakness. your weakness of being powerless to protect the things precious to you, the people once dear to you. but when you've found the power to, you've lost beyond salvation, and there was nothing left to protect.

as you made your way to the seats, aeri couldn't hold back the urge to ask. because the way your eyes didn't carry that special shine her best friend naturally has, concerned her.

she could sense something different seeping from your usual aura. on certain days when you're not in the best condition, there would be times where she can tell that you aren't happy or upset about something and she'd find the right cure to your sour mood.

however, today felt odd. it was seemingly an aura that she hasn't seen from you. you weren't feeling good, but it felt as if you lost the fire in you. the fire you had bore in your soul for your passion. if it had been a bright red fire, it's like it turned into a calming blue one. somewhere in you, you've lost something, never able to ignite a bright red fire ever again.

aeri had convinced herself that perhaps you were tired from piano, burnt out and taking a break from it to regain that passion.

the previous act had just ended, and everyone were to take a five to check if everything was in order. the blaring speakers and annoying mc finally stopped ringing in your ears. instead, a soft voice tickled your right ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"baby, are you really okay? you don't seem to look well."

the girl had leaned in to whisper, and it almost short-circuited your brain with how proximity was out of the window instantly by that small gesture.

"yeah, I'm fine, what makes you say that?"

"you look.. different."

"and you feel different too."

it was as if she had known from the start, that you weren't her best friend she knew. yet, she was trying her best to make sense of her confusion. deep down, you knew that all of this was making no sense. absolutely no sense how you were sitting here with a person in the face of your lover, waiting for your friend's performance in the middle of the summer. all it took was a step out of the house and another step back to report to your superior of your work.

and here you were, reminiscing the memories you had. they were irreplaceable, and will never be. but no one can stop you from making new ones either. just this once, you say. just this once to hold her in my arms one last time.

as your arm grazed against hers, you were looking into her eyes for the first time since the evening started. never have you realized that she had such mesmerizing eyes, pulling you in like gravity.

when you had gazed into her eyes, she spotted a glimpse of admiration, the one that she was ever so familiar with. it put her at peace, reassured that you were alright that night.

your demeanor changed since that night, but she decided to brush it off, convincing herself that she was just overthinking again like she usually does. but maybe, she should have questioned further.

who were you?

you were a fever dream, but also a lifetime nightmare.

minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into days. the sense of time is only perceived in dimensions that were able to escape apocalypse. back at the headquarters, time was fluid, seemingly long at certain moments and short when you don't even notice. which was why you weren't too worried about residing longer in this dimension beside aeri.

"hey, what do you think about love?"

as she laid her head on your lap as you leaned against her bedframe, the question took you aback a little. this very question was presented to you ages ago by your lover, vaguely remembering the scene in your head. but you remembered your response to it, and it doesn't apply to you anymore. 'love is when I find myself staring at your eyes and get the butterflies each and every time.'

"love is like a thorn in a rose waiting to prick the chosen one."

"it's something so beautiful you can't help but to get close to, and once you admire and realize its worth, it pricks you. leaving you to bleed, it creates a kind of pain that numbs you, yet you reach for it again like none of that happened."

"it makes you yearn for it, and when you've had too many wounds, that's when you notice that you're hopeless."

you never forgot how it felt to love her, it was all too familiar when it felt so natural to fall for aeri, which you almost couldn't resist. the way her eyes curve into crescents as she smiles, the way her scent fill your senses when she leans on your shoulder, the way you feel the butterflies when you stare into her eyes.

it scared you.

this wasn't where you were to belong. yet, the feeling of loving her permeated through your entire being, unable to shake off as you willingly dive deeper into your emotions.

"girl, did someone hurt you?"

aeri laughed away, thinking that you were half-heartedly joking and sarcastically answering the question. her best friend wasn't the type to dwell in the topic of love and dating. she had better priorities in life, which was the piano that sat in her room across from aeri's.

the lack of your laughter made her frown instantly, cursing at herself for perhaps making a mistake.

"what's wrong? did someone really-"

"no no, nothing's wrong. I just thought of that when you asked me. it just felt like love is a rose, it can be beautiful and romantic to some, but also a painful past for others."

"well, you're not wrong. remember that guy from middle school? he was literally the biggest idiot in class and he had the balls to confess to you with a bunch of roses in front of the whole school."

"yeah, that was definitely not it."

you laughed along, but you couldn't. the story was too familiar, this was what happened to you ages ago. not this person you were posing as, but you. the details matched your experience, but only that the person receiving the confession being your lover.

it was too hard to just brush it off as a coincidence. many could be, but this was too specific. timelines matched but with only the people as a difference. the thought of this dimension being a parallel universe of yours brought shivers down your spine. what if it was? what if this dimension's apocalypse was inevitable, just like yours?

many what ifs were not going to stop the apocalypse. you were the only hope to save the world, but screw the world. all that crossed your mind as you caressed her hair was only one thing that mattered to you.

'I will keep you safe, even if it meant that I'd never be able to see you again.'

jaemin and jeno had agreed to go together to a frat party you were technically forced to go by some jock you bumped into in the hallway while you were on your way to meet aeri. the dude kept pestering that you blatantly spat in his face that you were going. he didn't mention that you couldn't have people tag along, so you had asked the boys if it was possible to stick around in case things get out of hand.

the girl though, she had the balls to say that she was worried about you. she was going to stick with you the entire time you were there in case some idiots decided to hit on you, she'd be able to swat them away. the audacity, you thought.

if anything, guys were clearly going to swarm over her instead, and you'd have to act as her bodyguard. given that you're a good three to four inches taller than her, that itself would be possible to scare a majority. nothing could get her off your arm as you walked into the house, reeking of alcohol and sweat already at nine. before you could even show your face to that jock and perhaps head to the quietest area which was probably the pool, you felt eyes on her. maybe this was a bad decision after all.

you didn't want to ruin the mood for the many people who were enjoying this, so all you could do was subside that indecipherable internal anger of yours and find that idiot so you could leave this instant. the dirty looks all over aeri made your insides churn and boil, no matter how much you tried to understand why, you never could.

you didn't love the girl, she was a different person from your lover, just bearing identical physical traits. it was something that you had been telling yourself ever since you arrived here two months ago. that was how long you’ve spent being here, than the usual one-week stay.

trying so hard to deny that you harboured feelings for aeri, your efforts were all in vain when all it takes is just a flash of her smile. even during this moment of her laughing along with jaemin and jeno, it reminds you too much of her. the smile you would see when she feeds the stray cat outside your office, the laughter you would hear when you tickle her during pillow fights.

why was it so hard to walk away and do what you were sent to do here initially? why did fail to resist the sweet temptation of being in love again? when you couldn’t even hold onto that hand of your lover? the hand in yours felt so warm, contradicting the chilly feeling that set into place ever since that day.

she started melting the glacier of ice, while you took a step back to freeze it again. because it’s wrong, so wrong.

"I see hyunjin there."

jeno's voice caught your attention along with the name. following his point of direction, you finally spot that jock chatting away in the kitchen corner with presumably his friends. definitely, you weren't going to let the girl tag along cause enough was enough, another guy and you were going to tear this place down.

"aeri, can you stay with jae for a bit? I'll go say hi then I'll be right back. jeno's gonna be here so don't worry."

although she was very reluctant to let you go alone, you showed her those shining eyes, praying it works again this time. thankfully, she gives you a nod and heads off with jaemin first.

as you made your way towards hyunjin, you were extremely disgusted at how his friends were eyeing you up and down, like you were nothing but just an item. him on the other hand, was a lot better surprisingly.

it reminded you a lot of your high school days. the times when your lover had numerous suitors waiting in line to be her one and only. but she had eyes for you. you were still oblivious of the heart eyes you got from her then. it took you years to realize before you dated. it was the exact definition of ‘she fell first, but you fell harder’. until now, it still pretty much applied.

"hey! you made it!"

"yeah, you were following me around for three days, asking me to come."

he laughed awkwardly, even a little shy. what was this boy's deal?

it was as if the tables have turned, you now dealing with these boys who were fawning over her. perhaps in this dimension, you were quite a popular one.

"I just wanted to get to know you more, so I thought of getting you to come and spend some time together."

as much as he seemed nice, you weren't interested, and unwilling to lead him on to thinking you were.

"sorry, I have a boyfriend. but we could still be friends."

a little lie wouldn’t hurt him, and jeno was conveniently standing on guard with his supposedly scary aura which you found amusing.

you extended your hand politely in hopes he wouldn't have a freak out and frantic screaming that his love interest had an alleged boyfriend.

"I see... well then, great to be your acquaintance. I hope you have enjoy your time here."

you started to notice that his friends weren't eyeing you eerily, but rather that it seemed that they were wary of your intentions with hyunjin. it was as if you were about to play with this boy's heart, and that's when you remembered that rumor of a varsity player being dumped by that good-for-nothing cheerleader.

in fact, you witnessed that cheerleader sucking off some other guy’s face in the stairways. you’ve never made such a fast u-turn in your life, which you probably should have when you were making that decision to join the organization. but have you not joined, you wouldn’t have had the chance to meet aeri. and maybe you would have been long dead.

who knows? you might have met your lover in the afterlife when the creatures found you, had it not for the organization.

if fate decided to play a game, you had no choice but to shoot your shot at it.

"thanks for the invite."

"jaemin, please tell me I'm not crazy. I swear that's not her."

"if that's not her, then who is she? come on, aeri. be real."

"I am being real. she keeps avoiding the hugs I give her, and when I get a little closer, she literally freezes up."

the girl ran her hands through her hair in frustration, not knowing what is the truth and what isn't anymore.

for the past two months, she sensed something different about you. were you drastically different? no. something was, and she just knew. but what? these were the questions that had occupied her head for the past week.

she noticed you avoiding her eyes, taking brief glances only, as if you were afraid. afraid of getting your feelings hurt. but why should you? you've been best friends with aeri for as long as you could remember. if anything, you two were inseparable according to reliable sources like jaemin and jeno.

the only thing was, the memories you gained from the owner of this body. it was torturing you more than you thought it should. the smile on her face through these eyes, the sweet laughter through these ears, the gentle touches through these fingertips. endless nights of witnessing aeri fall asleep before you did. just like those times you did when she was your lover.

"that's it? sis, I thought she'd turn into a werewolf or had poisonous potions in a secret room or something."

"and you're the one who's telling me to be real."

"and you're an idiot. sounds like she just likes you to me."

a thousand questions popped in her head. then those questions were given their respective answers as she put together the puzzle one by one. maybe, you liked her. maybe, you loved her.

but why? nothing had changed between you and her so why now? she admits that she had felt attracted to you at times, but she couldn't be sure that she had feelings for you. however she was uncertain, you hadn't been the most expressive these days and she wasn't a mind reader.

when she saw you emerging from the crowd with jeno, she knew that she needed answers before the night ended.

unfortunately no, aeri didn't get any answers because she didn't have a chance to ask. her frustration fueled the endless beer refills which ended her drunk on your back as you prepared her for bed.

and you were lucky that she hadn't gotten the chance to do so. for the past two months, every day you woke up to was a curse in disguise of a blessing. the realization that hit you every time that like a reminder at the back of your head, that aeri wasn't your lover. and every single thing you've done with her won't remain as time spent with you, but her best friend who's the best pianist to her.

all she remembers when she woke up the next day was nothing, with a hangover that was giving her the worse headache. and you remember everything too vividly.

that night, as you tucked her hair behind her ear, all you could do was hold back sobs as a tear managed to escape, trickling down your cheek.

you couldn't sit by and enjoy this newfound life any longer. the day this world ends was getting closer and you had a mission to prevent the apocalypse. you weren't waivered by the possibility of a punishment that would cost your life. you were terrified of witnessing another time of losing someone you loved, someone you love.

you love aeri, yes. but was it the remnants of the love you had for your lover? although that may have been the case, you couldn't deny that her and aeri shared countless similarities. it was wrong to keep drawing resemblances between the two. nevertheless, one thing was for sure.

this version of you in this dimension, had loved aeri for a long time.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"I love you so much."

"please forgive me."

"nothing in this world belongs to me. but this love, my love is all mine, forever for you."

[itsabouttimex2]

Not sure if you have covered this, but I’ll ask. How would you have gone about Macaque’s redemption arc…if it’s possible with how he was written before season four? No hate or debate, just curious. I like alternate takes on characters :3

Hmm okay I thought on this for a little bit, and the crux of my problem with Macaque’s arc is that he’s established late Season Three to be “not a bad person” when-

1. He enjoys hurting people

2. He goes out of his way to hurt people

3. He hurts many people

4. He expresses no regret or remorse for hurting people

5. He faces no consequences for hurting innocent people aside from his intended victims winning their fights against him

6. His victims are reduced to a hivemind of non-autonomous set dressings who have no feelings on his presence or past crimes

And he promptly just becomes a person that everyone is okay with despite everything. So, if we have to keep the “one good action is enough to redeem you for betrayal, deceit, slandering, multiple counts of assault and attempted murder”, then we need to shift some things.

So I think the best thing to do if we want the actual “redemption arc” to hit the way it’s supposed to in canon is-

1. Thin his list of victims

2. Thin his list of crimes to the point that one good deed is actually a reasonable atonement for all of them

3. Play up his victimhood at the hands of the Mayor

4. Establish his inability to escape from the Lady Bone Demon much sooner

If the crux of his arc is just being forgiven by ONE of his many victims and then becoming a good person, then we just need to sharply reduce the amount of victims he has to make the immediate and all-encompassing forgiveness feel more realistic.

When he’s “sieging” the city in Macaque, the Smoke Demon ignores everyone who isn’t MK and deals no structural damage, creating no victims aside from the Monkie Kid.

When he’s performing in Shadowplay, Macaque portals MK away to fight him alone, leaving everyone else unharmed, creating no victims aside from the kid.

Then, when he’s stolen away by the Mayor, either:

1. Lady Bone Demon implants him with her powers right away, preventing him from running away and immediately establishing him as desperate, or, what I’d argue for-

2. Send the Mayor with him.

When he receives the compass and is released, Macaque pulls a Bone Key-

and throws it away, trying to shadow portal away, only to be greeted by

The Mayor, who proceeds to outright accompany Macaque on this journey, thereby serving as a foil to Tang Sanzang.

Where Sun Wukong was taken under the wing of someone who genuinely cared for him and wanted to see him improve, Macaque is forcibly dragged along by an outright malicious figure who wants to see him rot.

(Fuck, have Lady Bone Demon give Macaque an ice circlet to seal the “foil” deal! Have him be forced into these actions in outright agony! It would help Sun Wukong sympathize with him, expediting the “forgiveness” that a redemption arc needs!)

In fact, every time Macaque tries to leave, or steps out of line or even just fails? You hear an offscreen thud and yelping and then when we get to see him next, there’s new bruises on his body, new tears in his clothes. His fur becomes messy. His eyes grow haunted.

Play up his victimhood to coax the audience into sympathizing with him.

Macaque tries to run. The Mayor hurts him. He tries to stall. The Mayor hurts him. He tries to argue. The Mayor hurts him. He tries to fight back. The Mayor beats him back into subservience.

Establish that Macaque has utterly exhausted all avenues of “escape” before he resorts to attacking the Monkie Kids, and even then, have him try to avoid the majority of them in favor of MK, only to be forced by the Mayor into actually fighting Mei, Tang, Sandy, and Pigsy.

So now every character understands why he’s doing this- and don’t have a reason to hold it against him or expect any further atonement because none of his worst actions (like sieging the Dragon Palace) actually need to be addressed- they aren’t his fault.

That basically solves all the problems I have with the “arc” as it stands, honestly.