#and discuss ghost lore instead?

[cannedbabs]

In your rewrite, do Felix and Turbo happen to have history together? Or is Felix just extremely hyper fixated on the Turbo lore? (Kind of like a true crime addict)

Sorry I’ve been hit with the “Can’t draw due to school” disease but this was in the drafts of my drawing app so. Small 🤏 doodle page

In short? They have history! I love Hammertastic as toxic exes (on both ends) but I’m not gonna push that narrative since it’s not inherently canon. Basically in the rewrite it can be read as “used to be friends” or “oh. Goodness. The narrative between them they tried to erase but it haunts them like a ghost from their past” etc etc.

MORE BELOW CUT as always <3

((ALL OF THIS LORE EXPLAINED IS MY HEADCANON aka my truth lol YOU DONT HAVE TO VIEW THEM LIKE THIS! ESPECIALLY IN TERMS OF MY REWRITE! I will never force a perspective. For example, Ralph and Turbo know each other in my rewrite too, if you wanna imagine Demolition Derby instead of Hammertastic that’s cool too!))

Felix is NOT fixated on Turbo at all. Even barely remotely interested in him as a concept anymore. But back in the day they bonded over being neighbors and protagonists of their games (Turbo was kinda focused on how Felix ‘won medals’ and found that as mutual ground to stand on. Felix just thought Turbo needed to talk to someone and stepped in 😭)

This horribly started a relationship! Nothing out in the open, despite Turbo being vocal about all of his ‘wins’ (this basically means he didn’t see Felix as a prize to be won). As much as Turbo is painted in a bad light and was the openly toxic one, Felix isn’t blameless. Felix constantly dodged issues, half way viewing a “Just don’t let it bother you!” Mindset which clashed with Turbo’s “confront the system” mindset. Basically whenever Turbo had a problem it was swept under the rug, and nothing was discussed. Whenever Felix had an issue Turbo was either gung ho on confronting whoever caused it (more for his own self image rather than actually HELPING felix) or could half ass trying to convince Felix he is the best (of his game, at least) and would offer to take Felix on a drive to take his mind off of it (Felix never took this offer. Claimed driving ‘scared’ him. Cough no he just didn’t wanna do it cough)

This isn’t to say they didn’t get along or didn’t have a basis for a relationship. Felix cared, and Turbo isn’t heartless (at this point in time at least). The King Candy persona was not out of the blue, Turbo was always silly and ridiculous when he wanted to be (I just forget to draw it LOL) and Felix found all of his antics to be hilarious. I also think this is works well bc Felix never meets King Candy in WIR :] coulda made some connections…

ANYWAYS! All that to say “erm. Maybe!” Teehee I love thinking about them <3 they do end up seeing each other again in the rewrite and ohh!! Boy!!! But that’s for another time

[sacred-coffin]

This will probably be a long post. but trust me, I think it's worth it. Here is how I feel/interpret ghost canon

Each Papa/era was like a soft reboot. and that's fine! Tobias didn't intend for the band to have a story when he started out, and only later started making one up. It makes sense that when he started crafting a story for this (which he had to do while he was actively performing this story) that he probably didn't have every detail ironed out the way he wanted them to be, and had to make retroactive changes later.

I think it would be really interesting to write speculative canon stories from the perspectives of each papa, where the canon information established in their era is the canon that we stuck with going forward. Maybe someday I'll do that.

So, let's walk down and discuss canon through the eras, based off the information presented during each era.

Primo.

arguably the LEAST consistent "canon" of them all. There wasn't really a "ministry." The band was spreading the word of the devil, and was just one facet of many influences across the globe. They were sinister, Papa was probably a living corpse, he performed possessions on people, hell they kidnapped interviewers. They were the very picture of an evil satanic band. Primo said implied he would invade Poland. he said he'd hit a panda in the face for 1 million lira (which was already an obsolete currency), or roughly 400-500 euros. They were just plain evil.

Secondo.

Things really changed here. It seemed to be heavily implied (or even directly stated) that Papa was just a hired musician. He knew his time as Papa had a deadline, and it wasn't his death. There still really wasn't this idea of a "ministry," but they were less sinister now. In fact, Secondo made comments about how he likes to "be there for the children", and how he enjoys the way they look up to them like priests "without the guilt, violation, and corruption." (thank u radley for grabbing these quotes for me). It became a bit more obvious that they were against the way Christianity has hurt people, and there was this idea of them being their own religion, but it still felt like they were just one small mouth piece out of many. Papa wasn't a leader of any church, just a lead singer carrying the message.

Terzo.

Ok so there was a MAJOR shift in the religious aspect here. This is when we meet Sister Imperator, and we seen the ministry as a physical place. Sister Imperator talks more about how they have a mission of spreading the word of the devil, and even goes so far as to say that Terzo is like, a mouthpiece for the devil. But she also makes it clear that he's not a leader, either. Something else I think is noteworthy is how Sister Imperator at one point says that the ghouls' masks are made in the image of their gods, so like, we're REALLY getting into this religion thing. Which is ironic, because Meliora is about men in the absence of god...

We also find out that Terzo & Secondo are brothers, which brings the idea of a blood line into the mix. It's not stated that they had to choose Terzo next, but it also seems pretty coincidental for your next lead to be the half brother of the previous lead, right? Terzo however drops hints that he has a dad that we will meet someday, and then we meet Nihil after they yoink Terzo.

Cardinal Copia.

Lore REALLY picks up here. There's apparently a bloodline for the papas, the band was originally started in the 70s before it fell off due to some conflict between Nihil and Sister Imperator, but the ministry seems to have been established...for a long time, perhaps? Nihil's father, his father's father, and so on were Papa, apparently. And Cardinal Copia is just some guy, he's not even Papa, he's just another lead singer. Nihil is acting Papa for now. The ministry kills off the past three papas so that they can continue to be of some use to the ministry (instead of playing Uno all day). Also, clearly there's a lot of power behind the ministry, since they literally got away with murder.

And then we find out that Cardi has secretly been Sister Imperator & Nihil's son this whole time! So this bloodline thing still feels significant, but it's also still apparent that Papa... doesn't have any power over the ministry. He's a mouthpiece. Sister Imperator & Mr. Psaltarian (and the nameless other clergy members perhaps?) are the ones who make decisions. There's so much mystery!

All of this to say: the canon has always changed and had retcons. I feel like it will probably have less retcons going forward, and we might be heading towards the "one true canon," or at least the story Tobias really intends to tell. But that doesn't mean the things in the past are lies, they're truths left behind in favor of something new.

Sister Imperator Comics/Perpetua.

Now this doesn't really change TOO much to the previous canon, but there are a few significant differences. for starters, the band was just an idea Sister Imperator had one night with Nihil. There was no "ministry" behind it (and we have yet to see the beginnings of this Ministry, can not WAIT to see this last comic). The band was established to be anti-religious abuse, spreading a message for people to come to them from love not fear, etc. Not really any focus on the devil here, aside from perhaps symbolically (which is very in line with Tobias's own beliefs. Sister Imperator really feels like a self insert, or even mouth piece, for Tobias sometimes lol) We find out more about how Sister Imperator's relationship with Nihil unfolded, and how the ministry actually has a background in... the circus. Nihil was a circus boy. Cardi was raised by his adoptive circus aunt. We still don't know how the twins got split up, but we're starting to have some more solid foundations and questions answered...even if some of the questions seem to have changed. EDIT: almost forgot to add. Primo, Secondo, and Terzo might be Nihil's brothers now? It's only been mentioned twice and I don't think it was a slip up; I expect we might learn more with the next comic & as time goes on.

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Yet Another Dead Boy Detective Fic Rec List

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I've been having so much fun with these, so I've decided to make another! See above for links to my other fic rec lists. ♥️

Like We're Gonna Die Young (Again) by RoseGanymede95

The latest installment in the superb Codependency World Cup series has the boys attend a nefarious house party and grapple with old frenemies, 90s fashion and temporary amnesia. Also fleshes out their achingly sad backstories, but compensates with the triumphant return of Pierre the rabbit.

When I Picture You by Gruoch

Charles gets braceleted by the Cat King instead of Edwin and receives his heart's desire... being alive again. This author has a special gift for taking fun sounding premises and turning the angst up to 11. So excellent.

young blood (never get chained) by ghostinthelibrary

University AU in which half-demon Charles intervenes in Edwin's ritual sacrifice and inadvertently binds their souls together... I'm genuinely obsessed with this AU, it has so much potential for tons of delicious tropes. Human!Edwin getting a crash course in supernatural shenanigans! Soulmate vibes!Found Family! Demon lore! What's not to love??

Ghosts and Monsters by justafandomfollower

Charles is also sacrificed and the boys meet in Hell! Fantastic premise and executed really well. I loved Masterful Edwin taking charge and protecting Charles while inwardly despairing. Highly recommended.

back to back they faced each other by ShanaStoryteller

The Night Nurse has a theory about how Charles was able to rescue Edwin from Hell so quickly... I'm genuinely shocked I haven't recced this one already. Sorry guys, I forgor. Anyway, this has interesting "Guardian" (angel?) lore, great meta and we even get some temporary amnesia as a treat.

boyfriend jacket by skadii

5+1 times Edwin borrowed Charles' jacket. The characterisation is on point, and it has some great OCs (Kyle the snarky seeing-eye cat!) and really sweet payneland moments. Plus Charles' jacket doing its most to annoy the Cat King.

Looking Like the Sunrise by letters_of_stars

Edwin thinks he's cursed so he and Crystal must team up to solve the case of his Mysterious and Suddenly Appearing Rizz. Funny and sweet friendship fic with some quality Edwin-Crystal bonding and discussions of trauma.

The Case of the Anonymous Confession by Mayarenerose

College AU featuring Charles posting an 'anonymous' online confession about his complicated feelings for his bestie. The closet is glass, but Edwin is oblivious and Crystal is in pain. Cute and funny epistolary social media fic done really well.

the middle of something wonderful by KiaraSayre

Does what it says on the tin and gives us a trope salad of cosy vignettes, including a time loop, temporary amnesia, sudden corporality and Crystal and Edwin trying to get a good grade in Party. Wholesome.

My heart is like a haunted house (series) by halffulljampot

Charles (unknowingly) befriends the ghost of Edwin's mother and constantly gushes to her about his amazing best friend/boyfriend. Beatrice is a great OC and it's just nice (though extra tragic) to read a fic in which Edwin had loving parents. Read it for Family Feels and wholesome intergenerational friendship.

the first rule of fight club by e_va

The boys are captured by an evil underground fighting ring. The fic is from Charles' PoV, so the prospect of having to fight Edwin was especially stomach-churning. Still, we get Edwin being a badass and a brilliant surprise cameo I don't want to spoil.

The Case of The... by sophisticatedyet

Edwin borrows Niko's negligee and Charles' brain breaks. There's also a case and giant squids, but Charles' Distracted By The Sexy crisis is the main (hilarious) event.

in those heavy days when love became an act of defiance by aletterinthenameofsanity, JUBE514

Daemon AU and first meeting fic! Loved the worldbuilding, insightful character work and lovely use of Greek mythology. Honestly, this fandom needs more daemon AUs.

spinning around and around in an ocean of grief (your ladder came down to the sea) by Ingi

Prequel to DontOffendTheBees' excellent College AU, expanding on the boys being alive and in school together. Also has its own prequel about their first meeting from Edwin's point of view. This one, though, is a Charles' Bisexual Journey/Feelings Realization fic. So lovely.

head in the clouds but my gravity's centered by shadowquill17

Face Touching: The Fic. I just love non-sexual intimacy in fics and this one is so tender. I also love Accidental Kissing and Feelings Realization so my cup runneth over.

i don't want to rest in peace by handwrittenhello

Different First Meeting fic featuring Poltergeist Charles! Loved the concept, even though it made me sad.

the great snogging debacle of '95 by thatgayprince

Edwin disguises himself as a girl and Charles starts and then defers a sexuality crisis for 30 years. Funny, steamy and emotional.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

The agency take on the case of a depressed house. This is another bittersweet Edwin backstory fic with discussions of grief.

Smitten in the Stacks by cordelianoir

Adorable prequel to lolotr's equally adorable library AU. Meet cute featuring (platonically married) Dad!Charles crushing on the hot librarian who leads Children's Storytime.

Jenny Green: Butcher, Hot Mess, Reluctant Queer Elder by Money_Maker

Jenny-centric fic! The focus is on Jenny and her financial, mental and emotional struggles post-canon, but mentoring Edwin through his queer self-discovery becomes a big part of that. This turns into a really sweet friendship, plus Found Family Feels and some fun outsider PoV of the boys' dynamic.

I've always got more recs so watch this space! ❤️

[quasarwake]

Mentor Starscream x Seeker!Reader (31/?) Lore building, backstory, old friends 1300+ words

Ghosts of the past dream of you, sometimes.

Spotlight never felt quite right in his frame- and in his days at the Academy before the civil war, he got no small amount of grief for it. Many other mechs would grow tired quickly of his favourite form of relaxation- gossip and sharing news, discussing the various relationships between teachers and other students, and the faculty the Academy had been exciting. Yet due to his unstable flight... 

He wasn't always so kindly treated.

But. 

At least there was you- Spotlight could still recall the initiation flight, before they had been shuffled off to their suites- stumbling through flight, landing but barely to be mocked by fellow cadets of all size-classes.

And you had been there, watching him carefully, he could feel those optics on him as he flew, and he wondered at first if you were going to join in on taking him out, the quiet little blue mech.

Instead, you took a small jab at the other mech, calling her out on nearly setting off her weapons while trying to transform.

After that, it was history for him. He saw in you a friend, and friend you would become- You let him talk. That was huge, even on its own. But you would also respond, with quiet quips at first, soon turning to fun, playful jabs, sassy statements on the activity of the academy. His bare minimum hope was to be put into a room with a roommate that didn’t hate him. And here you were, somebody that not only made him feel heard, but was somebody he could have fun with.

Somebody that saw more in him than his mistakes.

It was peaceful. You warmed his spark and made him feel listened to.

‘Choplight’ was what some had called him in flight- he had a habit of stalling and stuttering, his nose turning downwards without meaning as he would try to pick up speed, dangerous things he had to correct for, sometimes overcorrecting and simply shooting into the sky. Maybe if there had been time to actually train himself into a proper Jet Seeker, he could have shown everyone- but there he was, working twice, no, three times as hard and still only being seen as half as good. One instructor with wide dark wings would berate him endlessly for it- and while Spotlight harbored his little crush on Sunstorm, there was something to be said about how backhandedly validating it was, to receive even the smallest bits of praise from his original.

Starscream, as an instructor, at least could see how badly Spotlight wanted to fly. Seeing the two of you roomed together, arguably his best and worst fliers, perhaps there had been hope that you would be able to lift him up- and there had been progress. Starscream encouraged you to take Spotlight flying-

And honestly, he made you feel listened to as well. The quiet of the Quintesson retreat had given a rare moment of peace for all of you, and this yellow mech that could barely keep himself level in flight always seemed to be bringing the most interesting gossip.

It was something he did with you, even before things went to hell. It wasn’t something he needed to think nearly as much about when you were flying with him. When Spotlight flew with you, there was no doubt in his processor that you would end up being the top of the class- good in flight, suited to your wings as they were, and not only that? You worked for it. So many of the best fliers knew they were good, and didn’t care to become better- but you didn’t just want to be good, you wanted to be seen, maybe just as badly as he himself ached to be heard. It may have been partly for Starscream’s attention, but just because he was no Sunstorm didn’t mean that it didn’t clearly push you to do better-

And maybe some mechs needed that. Maybe you needed that, and maybe Spotlight needed to see that in you just as much. Sometimes, we don’t understand how to make ourselves grow without a little bit of outside help.

And he would have so liked to grow with you, discover all of the ways you could fly together, mismatched frame or no.

Until it all went to Hell, that is.

Was it a direct Iacon attack on Vos? Was it retaliation for some Vosian slight? A bomb planted? A shooting? A curly straw and a knocked over glass of energon?

All of the information Spotlight had gathered after the fact had been jumbled, and many bots that he wished he could have asked were…

Missing.

Unable to contribute to the greater picture of what happened.

So it wasn’t too off the cuff that for all this time, he had no information on if you were alive. It was a marvel in and of itself that he’d only lost an arm in the building collapse, taken in by a mech that had only been visiting Vos for a conference- a medical mech by the name of Ratchet. From there, it was a whirlwind of being patched up, getting an arm replaced-

And eventually joining the Autobots.

It felt strange, seeing nearly all of his surviving neighbors on the other side. Like seeing a dark reflection of the community he’d been regularly denied anyways. After he’d seen the cruelty of Megatron against the group that had saved him, though, his mind was made up-

He’d heard all kinds of stories about the Decepticons.

Restrictive. More loosely militaristic than the Autobots’ rigid structure. Chaotic, with no structure past the higher command. Mechs made to order and made of the melted living metal that had been fallen Autobots-

Horror stories.

Things that he’d heard about some factions of Autobots hadn’t been much better.

Spotlight knew enough about the war to know that it was being drawn out artificially- the factions on either side grown tired over kilovorns. To their credit, it wasn’t always the rivalry between Megatron and Optimus Prime that seemed to push it onwards- sometimes, there were those out there as powerful and more crafty than Megatron turning the wheel, stoking the flames and causing resounding ripple effects across the universe. Sometimes, it was somebody more gentle than Optimus-

Terrifyingly coddling. Authoritative.

Functionist.

But Spotlight had been given the chance to see the side that would, if it could, save him-

So when the Transformers from both factions found themselves on Earth, it was with an Autobot insignia standing bright on his shoulder that he took the plunge. Neutrality didn’t suit him, and at least the bots he was with were good. In the end, it was Ratchet that made his mind up- Ratchet, who had saved him, and in his own personal ‘neutrality’, had chosen the side that he believed would save the most lives. And eventually, others on the team made him feel…

Welcomed. Accepted. Especially after he’d scanned a new form for flight-

His frame had settled, his wings had cracked in relief-

Splitting as though freed from a mold, they had rested against his back in flexible blades. His canopy was larger, but pushed upwards, allowing movement of his waist, he was springier.

It was like all he’d had to do was take on a new form, and there, he’d feel like himself properly.

And it made him realise just how much he wanted to show you.

It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t contentment he felt-

Because even on a planet so different from Cybertron, he thought of you.

The sky really was your colour here, and not just like when bright spheres passed by the sunless Cybertron-

Every clear sunny day he would look out and remember Academy days with you. Sometimes he would climb into that blue, his blades quieter and his frame faster than any Terran heli should be.

He’d fly. And imagine what it would feel like, to fly with you, when he was finally in a body that suited him.

Pleased to really properly debut an old friend- thought long gone. Rats and I have been talking about Spotlight for a really long time, so it's nice to finally have him here proper! Thank you again @radioactiverats for letting me play in this sandbox .))))))

Prev/Next

[doughguts-art]

What is your stance on the "Elsen is one guy who cloned himself a bajillion times" comment from the 15th anniversary livestream

My stance is that I respectfully disagree (for lack of a better term). Since “all elsens are clones of one person” wasn’t ever stated/explored in-game, I find it more fun to explore other Elsen origins for my projects instead. Mortis Ghost has also said in the past that people are welcome to play fast and loose with lore, and that’s what I was doing before I was ever introduced to the clone discussion. It’s easier for me to ignore that newer addition than to overhaul my original ideas, so that’s what I’m doing. I have no issue with people who decide to use that lore for their own works, but it doesn’t apply to mine.

With that being said, what’s MY lore for Elsen? For me, Elsens as we see them in-game are the result of 3 things:

Human’s evolution after the “apocalypse”. Elsens are what Humans are in the far future, as the lingering effects of the apocalypse (cough cough radiation) changed the very essence of what Humans are from the past.

Hugo’s influence as a “god” of this world. What we see is what Hugo specifically makes, so Elsens are the cartoony square-headed humanoids because that’s what we are made to perceive by Hugo.

The Batter’s/Protagonist’s perception. They all look the same because it is just easier for them to look the same. It is unnecessary for them to look any different than each other to the Batter, so we barely see any differences.

In my games, “Tiny Terror” and “Project GoldFinch”, the Elsen are more visually different than the original OFF’s because they are not filtered through the Batter’s practical lens. Non-important NPC Elsen are intended to have more variety, because they are supposed to be more individualized than what the Batter saw. Now I can’t say “everyone’s different” because I think I’d die if I had to make every NPC unique, but I’m trying to change up certain details so you’re not just talking to the same Elsen in a dress-shirt and tie.

“So, that’s how they look, but how are they made, if not cloning?” Glad you asked, I have a few explanations that usually (but not definitively) depend on which Zone they reside in!

The Zone’s Minimum Quota: Each Zone has an undefined number of Elsens that have to exist within it. There can always be more than the set number, and there usually is in any given Zone, but if a death of an Elsen would mean going under, then a fully adult Elsen will appear in another area once that death occurs. This new Elsen will have a basic knowledge of living, but will have to be taught to do specialized tasks. This is more common in Zone 3 than the other Zones, and it's the reason Enoch’s sugar industry has been sustained for so long.

Cloning (via the Big Elsen in the Room): YES OK I have a cloning piece of my lore too, but it’s not exactly what Mortis Ghost described, so I don’t count it as the same. This version of cloning is heavily inspired by tzalmavet’s idea of the Big Elsen. Sometimes normal-looking Elsens will grow and slough off of the Giant One (that I have dubbed Biggs for my story). Some of these Elsen are kept in the Room, but most are sent to the larger Zones. Unfortunately the ones that are sent away don’t survive for long outside of the Room because of genetic instability caused by leaving and the rapid mutations that results from it. All of the Elsen that come from Biggs are genetically the same despite any differing mutations, and consider themselves siblings. They can identify each other as such even if they are meeting for the first time.

Creations of the Guardians: Guardians can create Elsens if they choose to excerpt the massive amount of energy needed to make one. This was done mostly in the beginning of the Zones, before the Quota was established. It is very impractical to perform now that there are other easier ways Elsen can exist. The creation ritual requires “scaffolding” (usually made of plastic, metal, or meat), and a Guardian to infuse energy into it. The scaffolding + energy will create an Elsen with whatever features and knowledge the Guardian wishes to give them. Japhet was the Guardian who created Elsens using this method the most, which is why he considers the Elsen of Zone 2 his children (even if not all of the Elsen within the Zone are made by him anymore).

The Traditional Way: Elsens can just make other Elsens the same way Humans can make other Humans, though infertility rates are VERY high in most of the Zones. Zone 3 is pretty much completely infertile, it is very rare to see a child in Zone 1, and Zone 2 has the most children with enough to have a small school. Elsen babies grow and mature at the same rate as Humans do.

There are also miscellaneous "Special Cases". Some of my Elsens have unique origins separate from the ones I listed above, but I’d like to save the spoilers for my game to when it comes out, haha!

That's all for now, I hope you found my statement and lore explanation entertaining! I am excited to share more in the future.

[captain-joongz]

Penny for your ghosts, chapter 2

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Moving in is thankfully a smooth affair, and getting to know the pack also brings surprising happiness. Now all that's left to gain is a client.

Chapter word count: 9.9k

Previous part | Next part | Series masterlist

Warnings: a little discussion about death and ghosts, some mentions of near death experiences, some exposition, Yoongi and Namjoon are little shits that love to tease

A/N: originally I planned on ending the chapter a little further, but this is also a good place to cut it and I felt that you guys deserve a little something, so instead of this gathering metaphorical dust in my drawer, I'll be putting out the chapter like this! Hope you enjoy and happy holidays! <3 ps: the new run jin episode is fucking hilarious, i love our boys so much

When two days later Jimin and Hoseok rolled up to the hotel room I was staying in, it was more than just a little embarrassing. I’ve tried telling them that I didn’t really have anything I needed help with, but like the gentlemen they were they insisted.

So, with my single duffel bag worth of belongings in Hoseok's hand and a bag with my old rapier and gear in Jimin's, we set out through the late noon city back to their house.

Namjoon has graciously offered me to live in an empty room up in the attic, where I’d have my own little kitchenette and bathroom (to which of course Seokjin added that I’m still more than welcome to eat with them, to Yoongi’s vehement agreement. Taehyung then later added that I’m welcome to shower with them too, and got immediately kicked by at least four hyungs). I was ecstatic to have a chance to leave the dingy hotel, so I ignored them all and profusely thanked the embarrassed wolf hybrid.

I thought I’d gotten used to the weird looks people often give PI operatives, but here in the big city it was even worse. Even though hybrids weren’t anything new, we’d still get a lot of looks – some fascinated, some curious, some disgusted. And when we travelled while in gear, with big bags full of iron and shiny rapiers hanging at our waists, fear and apprehension would set in as well.

Hybrids were something strange to humans, and ghosts were an imminent danger to their lives they couldn’t even see – therefore we became the mix of everything they feared and couldn’t understand.

So standing in the tram, three hybrids carrying a bag with a rapier sticking out of it, we were quite the spectacle, and I could feel my ears pulling back with the discomfort I felt. Jimin and Hoseok looked unbothered, but I could see the tenseness in their postures.

There was some general chatter, but with the curse of heightened hybrid hearing I could hear every word clearly, as if I was a part of the conversation. And my companions were in the same boat, as I could see Jimin's brows twitch in annoyance whenever someone said something stupid.

“I sure didn’t miss all the complaining about the curfew,” mused the arctic fox the second we got off on our stop and started in the direction of the house. Me and Hoseok both hummed in agreement.

The curfew was something that was put in place already over two decades ago as a desperate hail Mary attempt to stop people from getting hurt out in the streets. It was much easier to contain hauntings when they happened somewhere inside, but out there, especially around parks and cemeteries, the apparitions still sometimes managed to slip by the protective barriers and spill out onto roads.

Back then there were many deaths in the late winter afternoons, with people rushing home from work already after sundown and getting caught up with unruly ghosts. All it took was a single touch and they never made it home.

So the government put up a flexible curfew – it moved according to the seasons – in summer it was later, usually around 8 PM, while during autumn it slowly shifted until it settled somewhere around 3-4 PM during the winter. After that regular folk weren’t allowed to walk outside alone – only operatives were.

It saved many lives, but unfortunately it couldn’t save people from the hauntings in their own homes. Winters in general were hard – ghosts were stronger, agencies were so busy they couldn’t have enough operatives and people died often. We were just beginning autumn, but the dread could already be tasted in the crisp air, even when it was sunny outside.

Just like last time, when I arrived at the house I was immediately warmly received by Seokjin and Namjoon, the two hybrids waiting for us in the brown sitting room and idly talking with the rest of the team. Or pack, maybe more accurately.

There was of course Yoongi, who still smirked at me whenever our eyes met as I willed my blush away, and Taehyung, who was technically the first person I’d ever met from Bangtan Inc. (a fact which earned me a very solemn and sincere “I’m sorry” from Seokjin). The last person in that room I haven’t met yet was a young wolf with huge sparkling eyes that would look so innocent and angelic had I not seen him send mischievous grins towards the black bear earlier.

His name was Jungkook, and he was the youngest. Well, at least before I tagged along.

With pleasantries now out of the way my things were quickly shuffled over to Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s hands, and they started a little tour of the house. Apart from the kitchen and the two sitting rooms, there was also a library and a lounge with games all at once down here on the ground floor – it was the room I heard the chatter from during my first visit. There was also a little bathroom and a storage room tucked into the space behind the staircase, but that was all.

Their rooms were all on the first floor, together with an office space that was mostly Namjoon’s. They didn’t bring me up there, but there wasn’t really why – because I soon learnt that the way to the attic wasn’t through there.

The two hybrids led me towards the same door as last time, the one leading towards the basement stairs. This time I looked around the little space and realised there was another door leading out and the stairs actually curled to lead up too.

“I’m sorry, there will be a lot of steps,” Namjoon muttered sheepishly, gesturing for me to go first. I did.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” I replied, smiling at him good-naturedly to ease his worries, “I’m from the mountains, remember?” The men chuckled and we climbed silently after that.

The room was cozy – really, I would even call it a loft – it spanned the entirety of the attic, just a big open square of space. There was a worn carpet there, an old persian with layers of dust caked into it, with a similarly old looking couch and a little table. In a corner stood an old rickety iron double bed that looked like it’s seen better days, but it would do.

The kitchen was an open space, a little table just enough for two people to eat there was situated right at the edge between the living space and the kitchenette. Bathroom was most probably the little room right next to it, tucked into another corner.

“Will this be enough?” Namjoon asked and he did sound actually worried, to my astonishment, “My uncle used to live here when I was little. And the boys sometimes came here when they wanted to be alone, but I’ll tell them not to do that anymore.”

I gaped at the men, taking the space in.

“Enough? This is more than enough, Namjoon-ssi!” I exclaimed excitedly, “I would even argue that it might be too much. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay rent?” The wolf chuckled fondly and shook his head, carefully setting my bag down on the sofa.

“Of course not, Y/N,” he rumbled back, “The space is here and it just collects dust, or someone comes here to- to sulk. They sometimes come here to sulk.” From the corner of my eye I saw the hybrid blush again as Seokjin jabbed his side with his elbow, but I paid them no mind, completely enthralled by a beautiful set of a wardrobe and drawers made from massive dark wood and carved beautifully with flowering vines that was standing next to the door.

“What Namjoon’s trying to say is,” Seokjin took over with a twitchy smile, “that we’ll be glad to know someone’s properly loving the space and taking care of it.” I returned the smile and walked deeper into the room.

“I tried to deep clean it yesterday so you could sleep here, but it might not be perfect,” the bear hybrid continued, rounded ears cutely flicking around and following my movements, “but I’m sure that tomorrow we can finish it all together. Hoseok promised to help as well.” Namjoon visibly perked up at the mention of that name and turned to me from where he was zoning out.

“Oh, speaking of which,” he exclaimed and motioned for me to follow them back down, “He’s waiting for us down in the office.”

By the office he meant the space down in the basement, where Hoseok occupied one of the desks, currently sitting down with one of the chunky phones pressed to his ear and diligently jotting something into a notebook.

We politely waited for him to be done, through with all the pleasantries, and then he happily jumped up from the table, pure unfiltered joy pouring out of him as he waved the little notebook about.

“A client?” Seokjin asked, eyes wide with hope, and smiled bright when Hoseok nodded. The men all huddled around the desk, muttering to each other things I couldn’t hear properly while I awkwardly stood around and shuffled from foot to foot. Thankfully it took maybe only a minute before Namjoon realised I came in with them and he whirled around with a guilty expression, tugging the notebook out of the fox’s hands and pulling me closer to the desk.

“Actually hyung, we came here to deliver your newbie,” he said and said man grinned at me blindingly, until I almost forgot anything except for the fact that I was so damn happy to be here.

“I’ll be something of a direct superior of yours, sort of,” Hoseok explained gently, dragging me over to sit me down at his desk.

“We don’t really have any kind of hierarchy, but Hobi’s the most organised by far, so this all is his domain,” Seokjin explained, gesturing with wide arms over the basement. When I turned back to the fox I felt the awe that must have been reflected in my eyes, and the hybrid blushed, turning his head slightly to the side while Namjoon snickered somewhere behind us.

“Everybody helps, but I mostly oversee everything, just to make sure,” he explained further as he leaned his hip on the desk to be more comfortable.

“He’ll be the one telling you what needs to be done and where you could be useful. Or me. Or Jin-hyung,” Namjoon added and smiled at my expression as I tried to commit everything to memory.

“Just whatever happens, don’t listen to anything the maknaes say,” Hoseok warned and I nodded eagerly until they all giggled at me.

“Well,” Namjoon started and looked to Seokjin who immediately nodded, both of them backing away towards the stairs, “We’ll leave you to it.” I couldn’t help but notice that the little notebook containing info about their new client stayed safely tucked away in Namjoon’s hand, far away from me, and my ears and eyes.

“Right,” Hoseok’s voice tore me out of my reverie, and I turned back to him only to see him looking around the basement in contemplation, lip caught between his teeth as he pondered. Then he jumped up and started walking towards the filing cabinets.

“Come, I’ll show you the system I use for categorisation. And please, call me Hobi.”

The first two weeks I spent with my new company in the new house were quite uneventful. The client that had called was swiftly dealt with only two days later, and only Namjoon and Jimin went, leading me to believe it must have been some weak shade.

Type 1 ghosts, the weakest ones, were usually the kind that started off the season of death, as it was so colloquially called, and mostly didn’t demand much manpower. They weren’t as dangerous, well, as far as ghosts could go – it was very unusual for them to show any kind of killing intent, but even a peaceful ghost’s touch could be deadly.

That was something that was drilled into us endlessly in school – both kids with talent and without – to never get close to a ghost, never let it touch you, and run away as fast as possible and get an adult.

It was the general rule everyone except for operatives abided by – unless they wanted a slow painful death of rot and decomposition to spread through their body from the place of contact, until it pumped their veins with poison and claimed their heart. It was a gruesome death, and it was terrible to witness. Sometimes you could be saved with a couple of shots of adrenaline or a swifty amputation, but vital places – head, chest, stomach – were lethal.

And it was the number one killer of both adults and children in the world.

But the sting of secrecy of that first case was dulled by the fact that no one except for Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok cared much for it, and it was dealt with within two hours.

I spent those days with curious glances burnt into my back as I mostly silently followed Hobi around and listened to his instructions wherever we came upon something new. I helped him and Taehyung clean down in the basement, I sat next to him as he showed me how to properly fill out forms we’d need, or how to file new cases (of which none came). I even felt guilty enough for not having anything to help with to earn my keep that I insisted on helping with gathering the fallen leaves in the garden, and with flaming cheeks made Yoongi let me help him cook every evening (even though I was a disaster in the kitchen and often got reprimanding looks from the tiger hybrid).

Most of the time though we went endlessly again and again through the little storage in the basement and made sure we were fully stocked up and ready to head out for a case if needed.

It meant hours upon hours of sitting in a steadily colder and colder windowless room, wading through kilos of salt and iron fillings, checking the magnesium flares to see they were properly stored, preparing salt and iron bombs, oiling and caring for iron chains that were used for protective circles, sharpening rapiers and similar.

And as much Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook whined about Hobi forcing them to do it every two days even though we saw no business, I completely understood the red fox.

Face to face to a ghost, there weren’t many things that could save you or protect you, except for your rapier and a belt filled with these helpers. One too many operatives had died because they hadn’t checked they packed everything or that it was functional.

Magnesium flares when unused sometimes became a hazard and could burn a whole house down, salt and iron bombs sometimes crystallised shut when improperly stored. Chains when left alone rusted and stuck together. When the crucial moment came, even a second delay in a flare going off could mean sure death.

So I happily spent my time in the basement, checking the boys’ belts and bags to make absolutely sure that when they left, they would also return. And sometimes it would turn into training as well, Hobi dragging us into the neighbouring room and spending long hours laughing in the ring, watching the men fight with big smiles on their faces.

It was exactly two weeks into my quite uneventful stay when Namjoon poked his head into the green room where I was sulking by the fire. That day Hobi had no tasks for me, and I took to getting in Yoongi’s way in the kitchen, attempting to help until Jin was laughing at the exasperated tiger and I ended up being exiled into the sitting room. Jimin had briefly stopped by to snicker at me and then he was gone in a flurry of giggles, leaving me to my gloom.

I had wanted to follow him, to go with him and play with the other maknaes as Yoongi and Jin all called us, but I was being too shy to approach them outside of work responsibilities, and judging by their hesitant smiles, they were having the same problem.

So Namjoon walked in on me sullenly poking into the fire with a stick, watching the embers fly through the air and listening to the crackle of the wood, all on my lonesome.

“Hey,” he said with that gentle timbre, and I immediately perked up, “your gear just got here.” If Namjoon found funny the way I promptly jumped to my feet and ran through the house towards the basement... well I didn’t really stick around long enough to find out whether he laughed, but he sure came down behind me with a big grin on his face.

We ordered my own gear a few days back, Jin dragging me down here and measuring me with excruciating detail to make sure it fit as best as possible, and it might have been the crankiest I’ve gotten around the eldest of the pack as we continuously bickered about which size should be ordered, especially the shoes. But Jin took my attitude with grace (got sassy and told me I’m just like Jungkook, which at that moment didn’t feel much like a compliment), so all was well in the end.

“Do you want me to call Jin-hyung?” Namjoon asked, mischief written into his soft round face, and I immediately shook my head.

“I don’t think I’d survive if he’s proven right live,” I said and shuddered at the thought of his smug smirk whenever we had to admit we were in the wrong. I’d seen it around a few times during the two weeks, even once from Yoongi, which Jimin later told me was quite the feat. Apparently the stubborn tiger would rather lose his own hand than admit anything. “Let’s not tell him if it fits as well as he thought.”

Namjoon behind me snickered and pretended as if he was locking his mouth and throwing away the key, before he pulled a big cardboard box onto Hobi’s table.

“You catch up fast,” he teased with a big smile, “first rule of surviving here – Jin-hyung is scarier than anything that might be lurking outside during the night.” I scoffed at that, but didn’t dispute it, instead choosing to get to opening the box.

The uniform of an operative is quite simple really – we mostly wore combat shoes with silver tip and iron interladed soles, cargo pants made from thick cotton that didn’t tear easily and special long-sleeved t-shirts that fit like second skin and it was virtually impossible to destroy them unless you got stabbed. Then of course, seasonal additions like sweaters or jackets or gloves. But these were the basics.

The pack didn’t hesitate to spend money on me, and I had to admit that that night it brought some tears to me eyes, knowing they were counting on me to stay with them that long. It was a heart-warming moment for me, as it felt like I was truly expected to take my place in their ranks and not only serve them coffee forever (which some other agencies loved to do with younger recruits – which, I wasn’t even that young, not for an operative anyway).

So now I was pulling out three sets of each, enough to be able to comfortably swap between them during laundry, and to not have the fear that if some unfortunate accident befell my uniform, I didn’t have to fear not having anything else. I promised the man that the next batch I’d already buy from the money I earned, but he just smiled and said nothing, warm eyes fondly watching me and Jin drag Hobi into our squabble.

Now, putting them on, I felt like an investigator more than I ever had in my old torn jeans and washed out hand-me-down hoodie I’d worn up in the north.

The memories that flooded my brain brought a bit of melancholy to my heart and I thought back to my parents, or my PI friends – all the people I haven’t spoken to since I ran down here. Some that I’d never get the chance to speak to ever again.

“They fit perfectly,” I called from the small bathroom, door cracked open just enough for my voice to carry unobstructed, and I hoped Namjoon didn’t hear the tinge of sadness colouring it now, “of course they fucking do.” The last part was muttered softly under my breath, but judging from the chuckle in the other room, the wolf heard me nonetheless.

Bundling the clothes back into the box and leaving it by the desk for tomorrow’s me to deal with, we both slowly started back into the living spaces, and my palms slowly grew clammy.

“Hey Namjoon?” I said somewhat unsteadily, and watched his ears perk up before he turned to me. Perhaps sensing my nerves, the wolf gently smiled, his scent mellowing and covering me with a blanket of safe warm feelings.

“Could I maybe use the landline for personal calls?”

The hybrid looked at me confused for a moment, like he was computing that this was the only thing I truly wanted, before his expression melted into compassion.

“Y/N, of course you can,” he told me gently, “you can use anything in the house. Including the library, if you’re ever bored.” I blushed at the knowing look in his eyes, and wondered which of his hyungs told on me. Probably Yoongi, that snitch. And I thought we’d have feline hybrids solidarity. I chuckled at his words and nodded, now more embarrassed than shy.

Having his blessing, I circled back to the basement and took a seat at one of the tables where I never saw anyone else sit, leaving Namjoon to return on his own.

The old plastic phone felt familiar in my hand, as I grew up in a place where technology stayed in the 90s. Well, most of other things did as well, to be perfectly honest. The number I was calling was burned into my memory, I’d probably be able to recite it even on my death bed (though for operatives that didn’t have to mean that long).

The line crackled for a moment before a tired “hello?” rang though my ears.

“Mom,” I realised too late that my voice came out wet, the heavy knot of emotions stuck in my throat at hearing her voice again after such a long while, and there was a similarly emotional intake of breath on the other side.

“Oh, darling,” the happy voice said, suddenly all tiredness gone from it, a youthfulness sounding through that made me think back to my childhood, “how’s the city treating you?”

“Good, I found a good pa- I mean I found a good agency, I’m with them now. Working. Working with them,” I stumbled through the sentence, blushy and teary-eyed, and I swore I could hear laughter upstairs.

“Are they taking good care of you, my baby?” she asked, her voice so warm and receptive I wanted to crawl through the phone and wrap myself into it. I nodded, and then rushed to assure her when I realised she couldn’t see me.

“How’s everyone? Dad? Jiwoo? What about Daiyu? How is she?” The barrage of questions spilled out of me in one breath and on the other side I heard my mom giggle quietly.

“Dad’s dad, still the same,” she started, love and amusement dripping from her voice, “you know how he gets when autumn comes. I’ve barely even seen him, he spends all his time in the garden.” I chuckled at that, the image of my father in his old jeans that were more mending patches than the original pants, lovingly tending to his bushes and plants, preparing them for the tough season ahead, was burned into my memory from having it seen every autumn. He was a silent man, but every time he stepped out, you could see the love and gentleness shine through when he looked at “nature’s gifts”, as he put it.

“Jiwoo is also as he’s always been,” mum continued, voice sounding lighter and more joyful with every word spoken, “as stubborn as a mule, like any teenage boy. Running around the mountains with his friends, I barely even see him.”

A phone in the hall upstairs started ringing, and I could hear the beeps interrupting through the call I was currently in, so I quickly clicked the other line to keep the call running. Running footsteps thundered right above me, the excitement palpable through them, and then I could hear Hoseok’s muffled voice as he answered it.

“And Daiyu…” there my mother hesitated for a moment, unaware of my split attention, and I forced myself back into listening to her, “Well, I think she’s doing quite well, all things considered. You should give her a call too, darling, I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

I hummed, but even as I tried to come up with a response, I could feel my ear twitching with the strain of listening on the call currently happening a hall above me, but to no avail. Everything Hoseok said blended into an undecipherable buzz, all the words melting into each other.

“Y/N? Darling?”

“Yes, mum, yes, I’m here,” I squeezed out quickly, turning away from the door as if would stop me from eavesdropping, “I’ll give her a call, just… I gotta run now.” There was a bit of silence on the other side, underlined with how suddenly the house fell silent too, and then my mother hummed. But it was the kind of hum that told me she had much more to say, yet chose not to, and I sighed.

“It’s not like that..” I said quickly, trying to put stop to anything she might be thinking now, but she only hummed again, in the way mothers did when they thought they knew better than you did, and I already knew that battle was lost. With a fond sigh, I decided to just let it go.

“Look mum, I have to go, I think we just got a call from a client,” I told her, and thankfully she got the hint, and with an amused sigh she let it go as well.

“Alright then, my dear,” she said lightly, just a twinge of longing creeping into her voice, and it pierced my heart painfully enough to almost rob me of my breath.

“I’m gonna call again soon, mum,” I reassured her quickly, jumping in before she got another word out, “My- my- Employer… my employer said I could use the phones as I needed! I’ll call again soon..” I got a little stuttered up over how to call Namjoon, but if she thought it was weird, at least she didn’t see the way I lit up with a mighty blush over the slip-up I almost had; for there was another word dangerously close to slipping out, one that was very not appropriate for me to use.

And I hoped that the sound didn’t spread as easily upstairs, and I wouldn’t hear a fresh batch of teasing, now with the wolf hybrid instead of Yoongi.

“Well, I’ll hear from you soon,” her quiet voice carried over, “I love you, my darling.” I smiled to myself, probably looking like a right love-sick fool.

“I love you too, mummy,” I whispered back, “Be well.” She lingered for a moment longer, I heard her quiet breaths on the other side of the line, and then there was a quiet click of her setting the phone down, and then only continuous beeps.

I took some time to take a few deep breaths, stabilising myself a little before my first shaky steps back towards the stairs.

The hall was empty when I made it back up, but I heard excitable chatter coming from the direction of the sitting rooms, so if I had to guess, whoever was here was probably all huddled up in the green room by the fire, stealing my spot.

I ran up a little, taking quick bouncy steps, both rejuvenated by the call and excited for potentially getting to do some ghost busting.

And I sure wasn’t the only one, because when I ran into the room, it turned out that everyone was already there – the whole pack, sitting around and peeking into Hoseok’s hands, where the black notebook was clutched.

He was just in the middle of saying something when I zoomed in, but got stuttered up upon seeing me full energy like that. Yoongi was standing by his shoulder, and upon my fiery exit looked up only to smirk my way, eyes cheekily taking me in. I cursed my ears and tail for flicking up eagerly, but it felt less embarrassing when his did the same, and it wasn’t enough to make the grin slide off of my face, so I just ignored Jimin’s teasing (evil) snickers and moved into the room.

Just for a split second I worried I might have not been fully welcomed in on the discussion – Hoseok seemed to have already started talking, everybody was present except for me – but then Namjoon smiled and waved me over, vacating his spot on the couch so that I could settle myself right between Taehyung and Jungkook while he stood over us, leaning on the head rest.

“I was just about to go get you,” he said in the warm tone of his, and I relaxed into the soft pillows immediately. I looked towards the red fox, who was sitting in the armchair in front of me, eyes lit up like he just got the best news ever. He looked towards me too and smiled so brightly it was almost blinding.

“We got a client. And this one’s gonna be a doozy.”

Seokjin was nervously fluffing up the pillows for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, and I could see that I wasn’t the only one whose nerves were getting grated by that, but since the bear was so sincere and hopeful about it, none of us dared to say anything. Most of the time Kim Seokjin was a man that would put fear of God into you within seconds, but when it came to customers, he’d almost turn cute.

Not that I’d dare say that out loud to him.

“Cute,��� teased Hoseok, and I immediately flushed. Seokjin turned to him with a disapproving tsk, but there was a red hue on his cheeks, and for a moment I was caught marvelling at such a rare sight. Obviously, the consensus about Seokjin’s pre-visit habits was pretty clear around here.

Like when I had my job interview, the only ones present were the three hybrids that seemed to be the most involved with running the company – Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok, with the addition of me to take notes. Though, all the others were around too, and I knew they were anxiously waiting to listen in as soon as the customer arrived.

Thankfully, the torture of watching Seokjin pace the room one more time to fluff the pillows one more time was cut short with a sound of the bell thundering through the suddenly unnaturally silent house.

I watched as the red fox jumped to his feet, ears flicking with attention towards the door as his tail nervously swung about in a manner that would soon become dangerous to stand too close to. Namjoon seemed to have petrified, standing woodenly with an awkward smile, and I would almost giggle at the sight if not for the aura of nerves engulfing everything.

Seokjin was already toying with the silver tea kettle as Hoseok tripped over himself and then over the armchair in a mad race to the front door. I had an abrupt flashback to our first meeting – to how eager he was to a point he stressed me out, and I promptly stood up into his way to try and curb his energy.

He was probably just too focused on getting to the door, that would explain why he didn’t fully notice me at first, not until I was already too close and in an attempt to stop he instead slipped on the squeaky clean wooden floors and barrelled right into me.

A moment of weightlessness was all I registered before suddenly gravity pulled hard, and before I knew it, I was sprawled over the brown room’s floor with Hoseok’s extremely red face planted right into my chest.

Everything stilled for a few extremely tense seconds before the fox was jumping off of me with a loud embarrassed scream, the sound enough to summon everyone, and I meant everyone, to run into the hall to witness me lying on my back on the floor like a beached whale while Hoseok buried his entire upper body into the armchair like an ostrich its head into the sand.

One look at the two other present hybrids told me all I had to know. Namjoon stood there with face as red as a lobster and looking absolutely horrified, while Seokjin had his hand over his mouth, though his eyes were crinkled with silent laughter.

I rather didn’t even look towards the others, instead I quickly climbed back onto my feet as a second bell rung through the house. No one said anything. Yoongi was laughing. Loudly.

“Okay,” I took charge of the situation, “Hoseok, calm down and get some shoes. Namjoon you too. Calm down, I mean.” Then I turned to the four other very entertained hybrids and narrowed my eyes. “Everybody else scram. I’m gonna open the door and when I walk into here with the client, you’ll be relaxed and professional, alright?”

Without waiting for a reply, I turned with my face still burning and stalked toward the main entrance. Though, I heard the patter of feet running quietly away and Seokjin muttering “we have to work on this part” under his breath, so it was safe to assume they took me bossing them around better than I hoped they would.

With a deep breath I steadied myself, slipping into the more customer friendly demeanour and opened the door with an amicable smile.

And older lady stood there. She very obviously came from money, everything about her screamed wealth – from her elegant black dress with lace collar, to the golden brooch with a blood red ruby that was pinned the lace, to her grey hair slicked back into a tight hairdo at the back of her head. She had quite a strict face, not necessarily unfriendly, but definitely not open, and she leaned on a black walking stick quite heavily.

There was a middle-aged man supporting her from the other side, probably her son by the age. He looked considerably more approachable, so I forced myself to relax and invited them in with a broad gesture.

“Welcome to Bangtan Inc., paranormal investigations,” I said with a cheery voice, “I apologise for the wait.” I didn’t offer them any explanation because, well frankly I didn’t have one, and I found that people rarely asked for more details for fear of looking rude.

“Good afternoon,” the man replied pleasantly, but the older woman stayed silent. She didn’t look very happy with us, but by her presumed son’s nonchalant attitude, I supposed she might have just been one of those ladies.

“Terribly good weather this afternoon,” the man continued, looking out to the sky which was a light steely grey, but the temperature was pleasant and stray rays of sunshine did make it through. I smiled at him and nodded.

“Quite, though it is supposed to get colder. After all, we are nearing the end of September.”

I offered to help with coats, but the lady let the man help her, and he seemed more than happy to help himself with his own, so I just waited for them to hand them to me so that I could hang them up. The lady seemed to be pleased with that at least, and I was glad I maybe turned around the fact that they had to wait outside for such a while.

The heels of their shoes clicked on the floor as I led them down the hallway with another broad gesture to follow me. I saw them both look around with wide eyes, taking in the old grandeur of the house. With a bit of a sinking heart I recognised open surprise in their eyes, and they were no doubt shocked that hybrids lived so well.

Momentarily I worried for what we’d have to hear from them today, but I didn’t have much time to ponder that, as we rounded the corner into the brown room and got hit with the sight of the three hybrids waiting.

Compared to the disaster I left behind me, now they looked perfectly put together and professional. Namjoon’s shoulders weren’t as stiff as before as he gave the newcomers a very enchanting smile, immediately charming the pants right off of the lady who seemed to have melted into a blushing schoolgirl upon being met with the wolf. Discreetly I thought to myself that I perfectly understood her.

Seokjin stood next to him, as handsome as ever, while Hoseok, now also considerably calmer, stepped forward with his hand outstretched, a blinding smile splitting his face almost in half.

“Welcome! My name’s Jung Hoseok, we spoke on the phone,” his voice was smooth and cheery, and as my eyes slid downwards, with relief I saw that he indeed did put on shoes.

The usual pleasantries took place, and I left them to it, only getting a little startled when Namjoon gestured towards me as I fussed in the corner about the chair I dragged over before to take notes without interrupting and said: “and that’s our assistant, Ms. Y/N.” With a slightly awkward smile I shook their hands as well, and the atmosphere relaxed a little.

Just as I was looking over the notepad just one more time to make sure everything was ready for me to write down, another call of my name startled me into paying attention to the interaction.

“Y/N will bring it right over!” Seokjin just said, and upon my confused glance, he gestured to the empty table. The tea kettle was gone, I belatedly realised, and I jumped to my feet and scurried off into the kitchen.

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook were all sitting around the dining table munching on something, probably sandwiches as Yoongi made those quite often when we whined about being hungry, while the man himself stood by one of the kitchen windows smoking.

I ran in, scaring the shit out of the three eating hybrids and earning a chuckle from the tiger, while I panicked and looked around while whisper-screaming “tea!” the whole time.

“Calm down, darling, it’s here,” Yoongi walked over to the kitchen counter, the teapot sitting there and mocking me as I sulked over to the black-haired man.

“Why’s it even back here?” I asked him, now considerably less frantic as I watched him put the kettle on, his quick skilful fingers arranging new teabags and fresh biscuits on to the tray. He scoffed, but it was a fond sound. He often sounded that way when talking about Seokjin, though you’d never get him to admit it.

“You know how hyung gets,” the tiger teased, a light smirk playing on his face, “in the time it took you to walk from the door to the sitting room he managed to panic that the tea would already be tasting bad and thought it would look better if you brought over fresh one.” There were some giggles from the dining room table, but I found I didn’t want to turn away from Yoongi working in the kitchen. So, I kept my eyes glued to the man, slowly taking in how his tail started swishing around in much more playful manner than it usually did.

And I knew I was in trouble, because he’d never miss a chance to tease me, especially not in front of the maknaes. Especially not in front of Jimin, that little devil.

Yoongi poured the hot water into the decorative teapot, arranging it onto the tray for me to carry, and as he turned, he reached over to pet my hair, taking the moment to curl his fingers right behind my ear slightly, as if he was going to scratch there but changed his mind.

I flushed, terribly so might I add, and the bastard smirked. I felt my ear twitch needily, the little traitor, and I mentally scolded it.

Grabbing the tray, I ignored everyone in the room and stomped my way back to the brown room, pointedly not looking any of the three other hybrids in the face, which I knew was noticed by the way Seokjin was trying to conceal his laughter by turning away.

The clients thankfully seemed blissfully unaware, distracted by the refreshments, and I took the moment to decompress into my seat and stubbornly keep my eyes on my notes, even though I saw the way Hoseok curiously glanced my way and grinned upon seeing how red I was.

Quickly the atmosphere sobered though, as the two incomers finally settled down into their chairs, ready to share their ghost story.

“So, Mrs. Carter, you’ve mentioned a spectre in your garden, yes?” Seokjin started, trying not to sound too eager, as that usually scared normal folk away. We had to get every little detail out of them though, and that wasn’t easy. Not just because they didn’t see much, but because they generally didn’t like to talk about apparitions.

As if not mentioning them would erase the danger they posed out of existence.

“Well, yes,” the lady, Mrs. Carter, drawled out with a thick posh accent, “It is in the back of the garden, yes, been there for decades too.” The man nodded, and that was quite a shock to us.

“For decades?” Namjoon asked, absolutely flabbergasted, “have you never thought to get rid of it before?” The old woman simply nodded, clutching the walking stick in her hands, habitually drumming her fingers on the polished wood.

“I didn’t particularly care for it,” she answered again in that slightly detached way of talking that wealthy people sometimes adopted, “It’s been just me and my husband for a long time, and we knew not to go into that part of the garden, and all the staff leaves before sundown as is law.” She shrugged, and the man sighed, pinching the root of his nose.

“I’ve been telling mother for years to do something about it,” he told us, exasperated while the woman seemed cheekily unperturbed, much in the way that spoke of just how old the argument truly was, “It’s just plain dangerous and irresponsible.”

“It wasn’t doing anything to anyone,” she replied stubbornly, “but now my nieces have started visiting. Even with all the precautions, I cannot let it stay. Children never listen, especially to those things that you stress the most that they need to listen to. I need the garden to be safe for them.” She seemed to melt a little at the mention of the little girls, something warmer creeping into her gaze as she glanced at her son.

We all sat there and listened to them go back and forth quietly, taking in the details – and each of us seemed to have different questions. I was mainly amazed how she spoke of a very dangerous ghost as if it was just a tenant paying rent to use her garden, and not the accident waiting to happen it truly was.

Hoseok had other concerns, and that’s why he was the one asking the questions.

“Wasn’t doing anything to anyone?” he enquired, leaning forward to them in interest, “Would you be able to describe it a little? Or even if there are any feelings connected to the haunting? Does it have any habits?” The barrage of questions that spilled out of him clearly surprised and overwhelmed the duo, and they looked to each other for help.

“Feelings?” was all that Mrs. Carter said in the end though, looking to the fox confusedly.

“Well, like for an example, when you are in the area, do you feel a certain way?” Seokjin jumped in, sensing his packmate was likely getting a little too excited again, “Do you feel uncomfortable and unsafe? Do you feel sad?”

“Hauntings can sometimes influence our feelings,” Namjoon carried on, explaining gently to the two humans, “It can help the operatives guess the type of the spectre, or its strength and motives. If every time you walk through the part of the garden you suddenly feel unsafe, it could speak of dangerous intentions. If there only is a sudden wave of sadness, it could mean a weaker shade.”

The two visitors sat in silence for a moment, pondering over their experiences with the haunting, while we sat there and waited with bated breaths.

Getting details out of human adults was always the hardest part of these initial interviews. Children at least usually were a little more sensitive to the unknown, sometimes even seeing the apparitions clearly, but adults were mostly blind. They could only rely on the emotions that gripped them while encountering a ghost, and those were normally drowned out by fear and panic.

Not that anyone could blame them – even operatives had that instinct to turn and run, we’d be insane if we didn’t.

But given that they seemed to have been aware of this haunting for decades, there was hope a little more information would come out of them.

In the worst case scenario we could swallow our pride and ask whether she currently hired any hybrids on her staff to ask them, though hybrids not involved in the PI business hated to be associated with it. Our supernatural senses hung above our heads like curses, and some just wanted to be as far away from that as possible, yet unable to escape it fully.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t feel too friendly, but I’ve never felt in any danger,” the old lady drawled out, voice a little thin as she was lost in her own thoughts and memories. Her son seemed similarly drowned in his own musings, sitting silently beside her with a pale face and a strange look.

“Have you ever seen it?” came Seokjin’s next question and the lady snorted in good humour.

“Of course I haven’t seen it, how could I?” her answer was amused, but it still ruffled some feathers, as I saw Hoseok’s smile twitch on his face in slight annoyance. Seokjin stared at her, incredulous, though she was very oblivious to that with her face buried in her teacup. Namjoon once more chose this moment to step in and smooth the situation over before Jin’s patience ran out and he reverted to his usual steam-roller self.

“Well, yes, we aren’t expecting you to see it clearly, but humans sometimes report seeing a little,” the wolf inserted himself into the tense atmosphere, “it doesn’t have to be a full apparition, but maybe a shape, fog or even spots of darkness, anything like that can be helpful to us.”

The woman hummed, once again reverting into her memories to search for anything to tell us, but by the pinched expression on her face we could all already tell that if she ever saw it, she’s already forgotten or supressed it from her mind.

My ears fluttered as they caught the quiet sigh of disappointment let out by Hobi right before he started preparing to ask more questions that would most likely lead nowhere, as was usually the case with older humans. My eyes were still glued to Mr. Carter sitting woodenly next to his mother though, and just as Hobi opened his mouth, without thinking I jumped in.

“Mr. Carter, have you ever seen it? As a child?” The man startled at hearing his name, and the entire room’s attention was suddenly on me. I flushed for a moment sensing the other hybrid’s eyes, but I took the chance to speak even though I probably wasn’t supposed to.

Redirecting my gaze back to the wide eyes of the surprised human, I could see some cracks of guilt in his expression.

“Of course I haven’t, young miss!” he rushed out, face reddening and twisting slightly as if I gravelly insulted him, “Children have no business chasing after ghosts, and I knew that!” I chanced a glance at my employers, all of whom seemed very interested in the current conversation, no doubt sensing the opportunity as well.

Namjoon gestured for me to continue, and I breathed out in relief before turning to our guests again.

“Well, of course, I am not doubting your common sense, but as Mrs. Carter said a few moments ago, children often find these things curious. Ghosts and the supernatural, the more you discourage them, the more they want to see,” I argued softly, trying to talk him away from the edge he psyched himself onto.

In that moment even though he must have been at least fifty years old, there was something very boyish in his face – that second he turned back into a little kid, afraid of the consequences of his parents anger after breaking one of their rules, and I knew I struck gold. Children rarely listened, which was unfortunately why they died of ghost touch so much. It has always been a very sad statistic, one that Mr. Carter no doubt almost added onto himself.

He took one guilty look towards his mother who has been watching him with a curious glint in her eyes, not unkind but definitely exasperated at knowing her son was tempting fate like that without her knowledge, but she still gestured for him to tell the truth.

With the aura of a scolded schoolboy he turned back to the room and sighed.

“It was when I was sixteen,” he started sheepishly, face red now from embarrassment more than the anger of getting caught red-handed, “the ghost just appeared the winter prior, but I was away at my boarding school. When I returned, I was informed of its presence and the back part of the garden was closed off for safety. I was curious, though.” I nodded at him, to encourage him and soothe the sting of childish foolishness.

“Trust me Mr. Carter, that’s very normal,” Namjoon stated kindly and gave the man a smile, one that had even me relaxing in my chair, tail curling along the chair legs in search of a cozy cuddle, which I stubbornly ignored, just as I did anything else pertaining to the strange reactions these men managed to bring out in me. Especially the kind wolf and the cheeky tiger.

“Yes, indeed, children are always drawn to things and places like that,” Seokjin joined in and poured the man another cup of tea, “Even we got up to similar foolish shenanigans. Some of us never grew out of it.” The last part was pointed towards those who listened in, and I could almost hear the complaining grumble from Jungkook and Taehyung sitting in the kitchen as they argued over who invited more trouble.

Schooling my features, I looked back to the somewhat appeased human and watched him grow more comfortable in the armchair.

“I did the stupidest thing I could think of,” the man admitted, “I sneaked out during the night. It was early autumn, just like it is now, and I crept through the gardens towards the back-end corner, where it was seen. At first there was nothing out of ordinary. It was pretty cold outside, but it was September, so I thought nothing of it.”

I hummed non-commitally, jotting down what he was saying into my notepad which was slowly filling up. Hobi cleared his throat, but otherwise listened to the story with unrestrained focus.

“Well, that didn’t last for long though,” if the statement wasn’t ominous enough, the look of sheer terror that crossed Mr. Carter’s face was definitely sufficient, “I mean, to this day I am not completely sure what I saw. At first there was nothing, but then I suddenly started feeling unprecedented fear, absolute panic and terror, seemingly without a reason. I stood in the middle of the garden, alone as far as I knew, paralysed with horror. I didn’t know what to do. Then it started to appear. I noticed that there was a spot of darkness that felt unnatural, but slowly it turned into a vague shape. I couldn’t see many details, but it was a man. I watched it slink closer for a few seconds before the panic managed to override my body and I stumbled away. I’ve never tempted fate like that again.”

There was a moment of silence as the information shared sunk in, only broken by the quiet scratch of my pen as I wrote the details down before I forgot. When I looked up, I could almost see the wheels turning in Namjoon’s head and the calculations Hobi and Jin were making in their minds.

“So that’s why you insisted so much about us getting rid of the visitor,” the old woman mused finally, breaking the spell with her sad voice, “I’m sorry we never listened to you.”

“You said you saw it slightly, would you maybe be able to tell me what kind of clothes the man was wearing? Any guess about the period?” Namjoon’s questions shot through the tender moment, and it was obvious the wolf was miles away, probably thinking about the trip to the archives he’d have to make after this visit.

The guests didn’t seem to be too ruffled by his slightly awkward interruption and the man dipped back into that terrifying memory.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can give you anything more specific,” he stated apologetically, wringing his hands out in his lap, “but they were definitely what I would describe as old-timey clothes. Like a Victorian gentleman maybe.”

Awesome, so it was a vindictive Victorian man-ghost, those were always so much fun. I added the information onto the paper and hummed, the three other hybrids taking over the conversation once more and asking for some details, details we were always hoping for but rarely managed to get out of people.

Suddenly, the rest of the visit was over in a flash. Hoseok and Seokjin discussed money, and the lady seemed more than happy to pay us whatever to make sure her garden was safe for her family, especially after her son’s tearful admission that he himself came a little too close to death when disobeying her word.

As they were filing out of our house, slowly shrugging on coats while the four of us stood there and watched with polite awkward smiles, the man turned to me and leaned over discreetly.

“I’ve always felt so much shame for what I did,” he confessed, “I never really went against my parents. At the time it felt like a long overdue rebellion, but it almost ended with my death. I was so stupid, and when faced with danger, I just froze helplessly. At least it thought me to stray away from dangerous situations.” I gave him a gentle smile, hand automatically rising to pat at his shoulder to comfort him.

“Mr. Carter, trust me, kids just are that way, you weren’t any worse or different from heaps of other teenagers chasing a little adrenaline,” I assured him, thinking back to my own stunts that I pulled in the seemingly endless acres of haunted woods around our little village, “You got lucky though, you left the encounter alive. But don’t beat yourself up over freezing up, that’s a common side-effect of a sighting. Operatives are susceptible to it as well and it takes years of training to not get affected by it.”

The man looked to me in surprise and I was honestly shocked he wasn’t aware of such a thing. Didn’t humans learn about visitors as well?

“Were you not aware of that?” I asked with a melodious giggle, easing the human a little before he sheepishly shook his head.

“No, I always assumed I was just a special breed of coward,” he admitted quietly, the statement getting lost under his mother’s fussing as Namjoon offered to help her down the steep damp stone stairs, the woman accepting his arm with a blush and shy smile, which was an expression especially alien to her face.

“No, it’s called a ghost-lock and it’s common, besides there’s nothing cowardly about being afraid when coming face to face with death,” I whispered conspiratorially, bumping our shoulders together like we were naughty school-mates sharing a secret, “only a fool wouldn’t be scared.”

A youthful expression crossed his face as he grinned at me, and suddenly he looked nothing like a worried fifty-year-old father of a couple of girls and everything like a cheeky boy whose burdened heart finally got the rest it needed.

His fingers flew up to his head, tipping an imaginary hat in my direction as he thanked me for my kind words and for our services, before he turned and jogged down the stairs to catch up with his mother, who was already half-way to the gate, still hanging onto Namjoon’s strong frame.

“- you know, I was against my husband in that regard, and I’m glad I disagreed with him,” she was just chattering to him, and the wolf wore an awkward smile on his face, a quiet discomfort oozing off of him as Jin and Hobi walked woodenly next to her.

“I always told him, I have nothing against those hybrids, and they’re here in the neighbourhood,” the woman continued on totally unaware to the rising unease of her companions, “why drag ourselves through the city, when we can just walk down a couple streets! But he’s a stubborn man, that Jacob of mine. Well, I’ll be proven right, just like I always am, when he meets you and finds out that you’re such stand-up gentlemen!”

There were some half-hearted mutters of thanks, the three men exchanging wide-eyed stares before Mr. Carter finally caught up and took over, grabbing his mother’s hand and gently pulling her away from the tall hybrid, to the wolf’s relief. I saw a flicker of displeasure at being separated from her new-found young love, but she quickly found her own footing and suddenly very speedily made her way towards the gate and out on the street.

I watched them go amusedly, seeing the three flustered hybrids standing there and looking off after the spirited old lady. Well, at least she was one of those old people.

thank you so much for reading, and i hoped you liked the chapter! don't be shy and let me know what you thought <3

Taglist (open): @borahaetelevision @socksfirst1 @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @iwishiwasrichasfuck @authorpj

@bangatanily @sassy-snassy @booksintheheart00-blog @bangbangcon @kiki-zb

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@meigalaxy

[i-am-snowils-admiral]

So the dpxdc fandom has been trying to come up with more ways to get Danny into Gotham without relying on the old Bat-adoption trope (though it's a fun trope that I love), which typically either means aging him up or giving him a fake id and making him live alone in Gotham pretending to be aged up, but personally I think we can streamline the process a bit by borrowing liberally from Marsalias' fic Adoption (if you haven't read it, definitely do, it's a really good fic) and sticking Actual Master of Time Clockwork in Gotham as yet another weird rich cryptid.

For those who haven't read that fic, the basic premise is that Clockwork decides to adopt Danny completely legally through both ghost and human methods. He is required to establish a human persona for this, which I find hysterical. He and Danny end up living in an incredibly creepy manor that they both love. We can easily uproot that thing and plop it into Gotham. If we want to be particularly funny about it, we can sandwich Wayne Manor between Clockwork and the Drakes to make them all neighbors.

Now what you do from there is obviously subject to whatever story you're wanting to tell, but there's a couple fun things I want to suggest:

Clockwork doesn't try very hard on his human persona. He still dresses like a time god in a fantasy novel (I'm a little in love with 13thcat's designs so I like to imagine his human form looks a little like this). You have to live, what, 40-50 years in a city to be established? Sure. Why bother aging visibly in this time? That's not necessary! What does he do for work? Uhhhh he's a woodworker who makes clocks. That's why he has millions or even billions of dollars, obviously.

5-year-old Bruce Wayne is OBSESSED with Clockwork (aka Charles Worth). This is baby's first incredibly pure crush. This is your really cool kindergarten teacher that you remain a little in love with well into adulthood, except instead of being nice CW is just really weird and doesn't care about what 5-year-olds are able to discuss. Baby Bruce does that little kid "I'll marry you when I grow up" thing that everyone finds adorable but CW says "there are many timelines where you get married, though never to me. Some options are better than others, but I won't tell you about them" because what else would he say.

When Danny shows up in Gotham decades later as CW's adopted kid Bruce is zeroed in on all the gossip. His interest is based entirely on his childhood obsession though so he uses absolutely zero Batman skills to investigate the situation and therefore finds nothing weird about Danny's background. The batkids find this hilarious because there is Clearly something weird going on with that kid.

Clockwork could easily solve all of the Bats' problems and tell them the answers to all the investigations they're doing but why would he do that???? That's boring. He's vibing in his new house with his cool liminal son why would he be worried about *checks notes* the hundreds of people dying to rogue attacks nearby.

Despite never being genuinely helpful he DOES randomly drop in-universe lore that no one would've figured out otherwise. Usually he does this about six months after it would've been really nice to know.

He doesn't do this out of malice he just doesn't intervene in things normally and if he does, it's only by request. The Bats (besides Batman because he's still oblivious) are too worried about what he might ask for in exchange to make requests though they know he's powerful but they are totally wrong because he's just sitting there baking bread thinking "hm I wonder why Timothy never asked me to help him get Batman back from being lost in the time stream, I could've done that really easily without changing too much. Oh well, whatever makes him happy."

Danny also never makes requests but that's because CW went a bit too hard on teaching him messed up karmic lessons about interfering with time so Danny just assumes it's always a bad idea to ask.

[mustaineesmio]

Barduil Fic List

Hey, I'm a massive Barduil fan and I haven't seen a list of fic recommendations so I'm taking matters in my own hands. I'll update it with more fics as I keep reading and liking new ones lol

Crimson

Explicit - Collection of two fics.

Summary in Ao3:

Part 1 : "The night before the battle Thranduil invites Bard back to his tent in Dale and the two kings share in each other’s company."

Part 2: "The Elvenking and the Dragonslayer find each other after the battle. Thranduil invites Bard to his halls where, this time, he can have things his way."

Stay

Explicit - It's part of a collection, maybe I upload the rest of it here but I haven't read those yet. Teasing Thranduil, kind of dominant Bard, he's trying to not get intimidated by the King lol.

Summary in Ao3:

“Maybe I wanted an excuse to keep you here.” Thranduil said it like a challenge, a slight glint in his eyes.

“Do kings need an excuse? I thought they just ordered.” Thranduil’s eyes were ghosting over his face, neither of them worrying about not staring anymore – not that Thranduil had ever seemed worried about that.

OR: Thranduil and Bard continue their discussions long after Bilbo and Gandalf leave the Elvenking's tent. Bard begins to find the elf more and more interesting and enticing.

Zigzag our way through the boredom and pain

Explicit - For registered users only. This fic is SO good y'all 😭 really hot power play and negotiations between the two kings, and in a bathub, of all places. Also set before BOTFA, kind of the night before. It seems to be an interesting setting for fic authors.

Summary in Ao3:

The Elven Army comes bearing much needed food, Thranduil wants to play politics, the Master of Laketown is drunk and Bard would like to be left alone, thank you very much.

50% politics, 50% porn. 100% pure power play.

Incarnadine

Explicit - For registered users only. This is the fic that made me want to start this list. I love this author's depiction of Thranduil (they have their own little elf-lore), it's very creative and unique. You'll see when you read it (mind the tags), but apart from that, I like how he's portrayed as hurt, struggling with trauma and how that shows in his way of acting in front of others. And Bard is confused (as he tends to be) but very caring. Just read it to fully experience it.

Summary on Ao3:

“The dead do not give up their secrets.” “You're not dying here,” says Bard with such conviction it nearly makes Thranduil recoil. “We’ll outlast the orcs, get you to the healers’ tent.” “So I can meet my end there, instead? Your optimism is… astonishing." “You can't die, Thranduil.” Thranduil almost laughs again in his pain-hazed delirium. He is speaking with all the clarity of a drunkard, now— a comparison more apt than he'd like to admit. “Does this look like a healthy wound to you?  Every minute the contaminant remains in my body, the poison spreads. It will kill me, Dragonslayer, it does not need your permission for that.”

or: Thranduil has sex again. Bard is just trying to save his life. OR: The (accidental) wound fingering & elf marriage fic, take it or leave it.

the cherry trees and seas of bloom

Explicit - Another collection of two fics. Mild angst mixed with sweetness. Thranduil panicking and turning avoidant and Bard being the cute man he is can't keep waiting so he goes looking for him. I really really liked it, more the second part than the first (although the first is important to understand the circumstances in which they meet and their dynamic), both are great and you should give it a read.

Summary on Ao3:

Part 1:

“Bard,” and Bard tries not to think about how his name sounds carried by Thranduil's voice, slow and deep. “Tell me that we are friends.”

“I am your friend, Thranduil,” and that sounds stranger still, an old name like that on Bard's rough lips. “You'll find none truer. I have little appetite for drinking, or feuding, which is where we differ – but I admire you. Truly."

Part 2:

He writes to Thranduil once, tries to convey how grateful he is – but Bard has never been one for soft verses or poetry, cannot coax that warm feeling in his chest to turn into words on the paper. His penmanship is clumsy at best, he's not had the luxury of being taught to write in perfect, sloping lines. So the letter is ill written and ink-blotched, and Bard wonders if Thranduil would laugh to look at it.

A reply doesn't come. The ice covering Dale thaws – and Bard stops waiting.

I'll update it when I stumble upon more fics that I consider good enough to make my masterlist. And reminder that this are just my recommendations, so you may like them or not. I don't care. This is my gold.

[kunikame]

# PURPLE LILACS !

[05] - perhaps he's into you ! | prev. | m. list | next

ace trappola x fem!reader smau

! warning(s) : cussing, miss-spellings in the tweets & texts, slight lilia lore spoilers, common jamil and azul behavior ("kys" used 2 times) ! w/c : 1k

when lilia vanrouge says he's coming over, he usually appears approximately 20 seconds after he warned you of his upcoming arrival, dressed in his dorm uniform.

tonight, however, your favorite fae-stie barely gives you a second to prepare before he appears in your room in a puff of green mist and his pink silky pajama set (yes, the one much like shaggy wore in the loch ness monster scooby-doo movie, just in pink). 

"what's up what's up what's uuup~!" he sing-songs, dropping down gracefully on the edge of your bed.

"hi, lils. cater?"

"on his way, do not fret. i brought some diasomnia snacks! and–"

"did you make them."

"no, he did not," said a monotone voice from somewhere. upon realizing it was not lilia who spoke, you turn toward the source, only to see malleus draconia (alias hornton) in the flesh, causing you to very nearly die of a heart attack.

okay, you might be over exaggerating. a little.

"--and malleus, i hope you don't mind. he wanted to join 'girls' night," the musician grins.

“nah, he’s welcome to join any time, i’m just not quite sure he’ll find it entertaining,” you say as you turn to look at the raven haired fae, “make yourself at home, hornton. i’ll go get the drinks and wait for cay.”

you spot grim playing with the resident ghosts in the living room area on your way to the (severely run down) kitchen. before you can even fully step into the room, you hear a few light knocks on the door and take a sharp turn towards the entrance instead. what greets you there is a heavily shaking individual known as cater diamond dressed in only his pajamas, carrying some baked goods (courtesy to trey) and his phone.

“w-what’s up what-’s up what’s u-u-uup?!”

a beat of silence passes and you momentarily consider just shutting the door in his face because how and why the fuck are riddle rosehearts and deuce spade also here. you can handle malleus, he’s much like a pet rock, but riddle in the same room with lilia and cater? you think your hair might start graying a bit early.

“riddle and deuce! what are you guys doing here?” you step aside to let them in with a strained smile only to glare daggers at your good friend behind their backs.

“cater insisted i come along and ‘hang out’ with ‘the girls’ for a bit. he said i need to mingle with people my age more to be able to keep up with the trends, or something along those lines, i believe. i don’t see a purpose behind me being here however, so i can take my leave if you’d rather keep it to a close circle discussion– i can’t leave trey to watch over the entire dorm either, i am housewarden, after all.”

“i got pulled along against my will.”

the drastic difference in their response, reasoning and length struck you like lightning for a mere second, “oh– uh, no, don’t worry, you’re all good, riddle. you can stay if you wish to! i won’t keep you against your will though. same goes for you, deuce. you just have to promise whatever you hear tonight stays between us.”

“not to worry, the queen of hearts rule number 14 states that secrets must stay between included parties. may the queen strike me down herself lest i break a rule.”

“anywayy~ after all this chitter chatter cay-cays’s gotten hungryyy and treys’ home-baked tarts are directly under my nose! it would be a crime to not eat them! shoo-shoo, up we go!"

a couple hours have passed since the guys arrival, and everything's been going well so far. it was quite a shock for the heartslabyul trio to find the malleus draconia here at first as well, but they’ve slowly warmed up to him and began to consider him as ‘one of the girls’. the conversation’s been flowing well and the night was filled with shared laughs and stories.

you were just finishing up recounting the recent happenings with ace to fill everyone in on the details when malleus spoke.

“i believe he might just be.. ‘into you’, was it?” he turned to lilia for confirmation, who nodded abruptly. “that’s what i’m saying! the little bat just won’t believe me,” he said, leaning onto cater (who nods along in agreement while patting his bandmate) dramatically, as if you not believing his nonsense caused him a fatal wound. so much for being a war general, this guy is a drama general at best.

“lils, he hates me.”

“enemies to lovers, i say! enemi–”

“on the contrary, i think he quite likes you, actually,” the redheaded housewarden speaks up from the corner he’s sat in, “you’re almost all he talks about recently.”

“oh, you’re right! i asked him about our alchemy homework last week and he found some way to bring you up, even in that conversation. ‘i wonder if [name]’s done it yet? should we ask? i hope she’s not struggling with her studies. perhaps we could help her out’ like, shut up,” said deuce, popping some candy in his mouth with a clearly annoyed look in his eyes. if you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he was jealous of his friend.

that forced you to stop and think for a moment. if it were anyone else (a picture of lilia and cater appears in your minds eye and you have to fight back a smile) saying it, you probably wouldn’t have paid it much mind, but if it’s the people closest to him, then perhaps there’s some truth behind the seemingly empty words?

“i have an idea, if i may,” all eyes turn to malleus (who.. you forgot was even here, with how quiet he was the entire time), eyebrows raised in question, “if you’re so unsure of his intentions and feelings, why not test them?”

the 2 light music club members eyes lit up at that and you felt an impending sense of doom.

and that’s how you found yourself dancing with deuce, then malleus, then riddle, then... all of them, for some reason? it was awkward initially, but the longer it went on the more fun it was, and perhaps you could say this was one of your best nights spent in twisted wonderland.

being erased from your own world be damned.

## ❝ after the events of the phantom bride wedding, ace started wondering whether he still had the ability to charm girls. he hasn’t thought about anyone romantically in years, hasn’t really flirted with anyone either, what if he’s gone out of it? perhaps it’s time to put his talents to the test; with the person who hates him most, no less. if he can charm her, he can charm anyone. ❞

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[thefirstknife]

hey have you seen the lore tabs for the exotic ghost shell and ship in the super high levels of the season pass? if so what do you make of them. like, speaker is a new light, has a name starting with s, is dealing with vex, and speaks as if theyre part of humanity in the ship lore tab like that cant possibly be maya sundaresh right but im not sure what other candidates there could be since the episode is called echoes and is almost certainly going to involve the vex on nessus

I've seen them! There's also one on the sparrow of the same type. I genuinely have no idea. There's some clues in the tabs, but they're super hard to understand without context, but yes, I do believe this is Maya.

Spectrum Shell, Unbridled Iridescence sparrow, Polychroma ship. Putting them in this order, because of the number on the log. Each lore has a "personal log" with a number: 0002, 0025 and 0031.

It starts with a vague description that I don't think shows a new light or a Guardian at all:

It is strange to be awake, physically, after so long spent wandering.

This is very peculiar; it has the vibe of this person having existed in some other form before gaining physical form. Since we know we'll be dealing with the Vex and Maya, this immediately reminds me of Ishtar scientist simulations.

Following the number of the logs, there's "AS." The speaker explains what this means:

Keeping a log will help, at the very least to track the days. As will my silly little joke to make myself feel important, two days after the rebeginning of myself. Anno… me. I suppose.

This specifies that the "0002" is "two days" and the "AS" is a joke on the time designation: "anno" being "year" as when used for example in "anno domini" (year of our lord) or AD. Instead in this case it's the author's name which as you've noted begins with an S. This bit:

I ignored and abandoned the best person I knew. I feel foolish, empty. Daunted at the immensity and masochism of my own stupidity. It feels childish to admit I'd always assumed she would follow me.

... first made me consider it being Maya thinking of abandoning Chioma. Then "S" would be Sundaresh, and it would also fit with her being a simulation newly awake and finally physical, as would the rest of the information of the author being a scientist and knowing things from the Golden Age.

Also interesting from the first lore tab:

At least I am not alone here. My new ally more than makes up for the Vex's dreadful company. His disposition is calming, reassuring—a welcome voice when I need affirmation and guidance. And such a fascinating origin! Such astounding variance in biology and culture. I look forward to our continued partnership.

The author has some sort of an "ally" among all the Vex, someone with a "fascinating origin" and "astounding variance in biology and culture." I have no idea what this means. Possibly non-human? Or at least neo-human, so perhaps Awoken? If this is Maya, she would not know about the Awoken. I'm thinking Awoken because, if we're dealing with the Vex, there's a guy in there: Asher Mir. But I would NOT describe Asher as calming and reassuring. Another option is possibly Mithrax? If we're dealing with some Vex shenanigans, he might be involved.

The sparrow lore originally made me feel like it's Maya because of the topic of discussion; the science and philosophy of personhood and simulations. The author also mentions "pre-Veil contact philosophy" which implies the author has been there or is at least well-read on the topic, which suggests a connection to the Golden Age. Also:

Traversal through other states of being are possible, as proven by my own journey and ascension over my Vex...

"Proven by my own journey" also would imply Maya, but the addition of the ominous "my Vex" is strange. Is this a hint to the new plotline then? Maya ascending over the Vex and becoming capable of controlling them or just using them in some way? Wild. Curious addition in the next paragraph with "... Vex, even these older ones..." Older Vex? As in Precursors? Or something else? I am very intrigued.

The ship lore is somewhat concerning as the author talks about humanity's unwillingness to continue progressing:

My hypothesis is that it is a true technological leap that hinders us. Perhaps when humanity sees what can be accomplished using a force that can reshape the planet itself, they will feel secure enough to turn to science once again.

The author thinks we can use a "force that can reshape the planet itself" to continue the technological advancement of humanity. A what? Is this something to do with Nessus and the Vex abilities to terraform? Furthermore:

These are problems my Vex can alleviate. Why take risks with AI when a more straightforward force may be utilized to facilitate a civilization's rise? Related… research with my ally has proven the path forward. Radiolaria remains easiest; its individual minds are simply so small, although they are multitudinous their connections make it simple. Other larger, more complex minds prove difficult for the time being… But I am not unfamiliar with the rigor of practice. I will delight in trial and error.

Again with the "my Vex" and the implication that the Vex can be used for these advancements, specifically radiolaria. This also includes "research with my ally" which makes me want to discard Mithrax as an option because he would simply not be suggesting these things. But who knows about the radiolaria's effects on people and transformation? Well, Asher does. However, I don't think Asher would suggest this either? Like, he may have the research, but I don't think he would ever make any implication that this would be good.

This was my thought process reading these. There's a lot of context missing and I can't wait to get back to them after the Echoes starts. I'm definitely leaning on this being Maya and don't have any other theories for who it might be. If anything, then another Ishtar scientist, but I doubt it they would put anyone other than Maya or Chioma here and it doesn't sound like Chioma nor does she have the "S" as her name.

I have no other theories for the "ally" either; my only other thought is Praedyth, whom Maya and the scientists met at one point and he helped them escape (?) the network. That was the whole deal in Aspect lore book + what seems to have been implied with the Starcrossed ending. Praedyth would also know a lot about the Vex to help with research, but he would equally not be someone thinking using Vex for a technological leap is good. Interestingly enough, a D1 quest somewhat implied Praedyth was part of the Future War Cult, which adds another layer of his connection to Maya.

The most of what I'm getting from this is that Echoes is going to be really damn cool.

[wizardsnorlax]

Ok so update on the Spiral Jon fic I'm writing: I'm getting it onto Ao3 bit by bit because it's super difficult to write on mobile, but I need to take a break and get ideas for the season three events out before they get lost, here's a link to the season 2 notes

Ok here we go

Melanie does not join the Archives, this is for the best

At one point in season 2 Jon gave Sasha Georgie's contact info for "in case of emergency" use so Sasha is gonna be (mostly) ok she just needs to pop an allergy pill every once in a while

Sasha might be good with the hardware of a computer but the software might as well be a completely different language so she's very little help with Georgie's show

Jon takes to reading Statements like I took to weed gummies

Sasha follows about the same trail of clues as Jon did in Canon but Daisy's grip on Sasha is a bit harder to hold so Sasha gets claw slashes on her arms instead of a knife at the throat

Things that have changed about Jon while Sasha was gone: his hair now has ringlet curls, the extra flexibility in his joints has progressed but not to the point anyone has noticed let alone would consider a problem and his eyes are twitchy from the stress of filling her position to the point he looks like he's constantly ODed on caffeine

Sasha gets back in the office and when everyone learns they can't quit or be fired Jon makes it his personal mission to be as much of a menace to Elias as possible

but he'd never do that to Sasha, she gets doodles of her hanging out with Cecil from Nightvale because she's a good boss:)

Martin scolds Tim for how he's been treating Jon and Sasha because of the changes caused by first and secondhand paranormal bullshit exposure

Jon gets to go out for drinks with people who actually like him

Everyone learns why Jon has a shirt that says "the difference between me and Superman is Superman has Super Vision, I need constant supervision

A discussion about who takes Jon home with them is had because at some point the poor goober lost his shoes and started trying to wrap around Martin like a belt

Sasha gets kidnapped on her way home

Michael helps her because some part remembers being an archival assistant and she's treated hers so much better than Gertrude did

Helen doesn't take Michael's place but the door still rejects him and the corridor collapses as both Sasha and Michael crash into Jon's new flat

Michael is freed but is in such bad shape he needs to be in the hospital for several weeks on recovery

Things attempt to be normal

Tim and Jon are menaces to Elias in very different ways

Jon doesn't want anyone traveling alone

Elias doesn't care but can't STAND the idea of Jon being there without a buffer so Sasha gets to have company on her trip, Tim goes to India and gets the ghost bullet, cue Mystery Mousketool meme

Martin, Basira and Daisy are handling the workload as best they can but since none of them are particularly suited to the task things go badly because Martin is terrible at direct leadership

When Sasha and Jon get kidnapped by Trevor and Julia, Sasha decides that the best way to clear some of the air is through lore dumping her backstory (still to be determined)

Jon is deemed suspicious by the false cop cause he does NOT look sober

Insert attempted police brutality interrupted by a shotgun

While the false cop is regenerating Jon gets the "how did you two meet" Statement from Julia

They get to the cabin and Jon freaks out a little at the idea of reading ANOTHER cursed book

Big relief when nobody gets eaten this time

Nobody ever believes him but Jon has kept every promise he's made (not that he's made many before but it's the principle of it)

Yoinks the page

Our duo finishes the assignment

Back home

Sasha learns about the storage unit

JON STOP REACHING FOR THE EXPLOSIVES YOU ABSOLUTE GREMLIN

Tim is EXTRA motivated to wreck shop at the Unknowing

Jon and Martin stay behind to be distractions

Big boom happens, Tim makes it out because the guy's literally too angry to die, Sasha is in the coma, Daisy is in the Coffin and Basira is just having a time of it

Jon gets mind fondled by Elias and it makes Martin want to rip the bastard's throat out but the best he can do is have the cops rough him up as much as possible

Jon is temporary head of the Archives and the pressure swallows him whole and he crashes like a meteorite because he desperately doesn't want to be the one giving orders

Martin's "assistance" has been leaving cobwebs in places nobody checks

And thus we enter season 4

[elbiotipo]

more of a "supernatural exists in regular life", like, for example, what would the history of our world look like if people had access to stereotypical magic? im not going for full historical accuracy since its not that important for the plot, its mostly bc i dont know how one could tie certain real life events to fantastical plots without it devolving into one of those "yeah napoleon was a space wizard" type skits. sorry for the word salad im bad at asking for advice lol

Well, I think the way NOT to do it is World of Darkness. I love that lore I really do but it makes NO SENSE and it gets insane, and it's part of the charm. But when you attribute everything to the supernatural, it just becomes a mess.

You know what you could use? Historical materialism. For real. Instead of thinking with people like Napoleon, think about magic as kind of (not really, otherwise loses flavor) a technology. What's the implication of having, for example, transmutation of materials or combat spells? Once you figure that out, you can start doing other implications, perhaps Napoleon's talent was in harnessing mass magical tactics instead of individual wizards for example.

A fantasy world gives a lot more to play if you want something less historically accurate. The butterfly effect is something very discussed in alternate history, I for example am of the camp that after there's a point of divergence, every single thing like individual births, deaths, lives, etc. changes because of the butterfly effect, but big overall trends persist. If you're working with a fantasy history, you can for example ignore that and say that people like Napoleon or Lenin still show up even if the divergence was in prehistory or the creation of the world

Ah, I'm not sure how to advice you. Let me give you an example for the alchemy-punk world I'm building: I assume that ancient civilizations like the Egyptians, the Han, etc. already had knowledge of alchemy but it was lost to the ages, and these come from yet older civilizations like the Atlanteans and such. And then alchemy starts showing up again during the Renaissance. That's a very standard premise; magic was lost or kept secret for a long time and then shows up. So you don't have to rewrite the entirety of history, or you can add at will details as you think about them.

My other piece of advice though: DON'T add BIG OVERARCHING ALL POWERFUL CONSPIRACIES. Not only it plays with unfortunate real conspiracy theories, but it also just ruins your worldbuilding to attribute everything to a big conspiracy and everything going just according to keikaku. The problem with a big conspiracy is that eventually it becomes so big that you have to wonder how it works, how is EVERYBODY into it. You know what's better for your kind of scenario, IMO? lots of small secret societies, all competing against each other. It's more fun, kind of fitting with real life esoteric societies that split more often than trotskyst parties, and you can understand why magic/the supernatural is a secret in this world; there simply are too few people who know about it.

And in fact, many people believe in the supernatural right now. People here right now believe in lobizones, witches, curses, la luz mala, energies, UFOs, folk healing, ghosts, and well, religion. So is there really the need for a secret? If you know how to balance it, not really.

[c0la-queen]

Harrowing Night | Viktor x Reader

Okay, I know I promised a drabble, but I've spent hours elbow-deep in the muck of League of Legends lore trying to figure shit out that I completely lost the motivation to write something complicated. However, I still have Thoughts that I want to share with you all, so I will post them in the form of Cola's Ramblings.

So, the only Halloween equivalent event I could find was something called Harrowing, but I noticed halfway through my research that this event was actually part of the old lore and is no longer canon. However, I am Not A League Player so I'm simply choosing to Ignore This.

From what I could find, it seems like Harrowing was a Ionian event that was spread to Piltover and Zaun through the Ionian refugees. (Again, I don't know how accurate that is, don't get mad at me if you actually know the lore please)

In my opinion, even though this holiday started out as a day of fear and caution, Piltover - as Piltovans are wont to do - takes this concept and decides to polish it until it shines as golden as the city itself. Instead of hiding away in their homes in fear of the dark, they decided to keep the spirits away by having fun. So, every October 31st, the throw a festival in the city plaza. There's lanterns, food and hot drinks, games and activities, music, and, of course, costumes! And they call this new version of the holiday Harrowing Night.

Reader absolutely loves Harrowing Night. She and Jayce, as childhood best friends, spent every Harrowing Night together. When they were young, they'd slip away from their parents' grasps and run off hand-in-hand to scope out what that year's festival had.

This excitement didn't fade away as they got older.

So, when October came around this year, your excitement steadily grew. You spent all month discussing costume ideas, trying to settle on the perfect one.

Then, the fated night arrived. As soon as you were done helping the boys out at the lab, you raced home to your apartment to get ready. As the sun sank below the city line and the sky turned from red-orange to inky indigo, you couldn't help but pace nervously. Jayce was 30 minutes late to pick you up. Where was he? Was he okay?

When you heard a knock on your door, that dwindling excitement built back up. You raced to the door as fast as you could, throwing it open and starting to berate Jayce for being so tardy -

...when you noticed that it wasn't Jayce. At all. It was Viktor, wearing comfy clothes and looking like he had just rushed over to your apartment last minute. (Had you ever seen Viktor in anything other than his Academy uniform?)

Viktor was having a hard time forming a coherent sentence. He had come over to your apartment in order to bounce some ideas for HexTech off you - something he'd started doing at your daily lunches together, something that he found helped him process his thoughts better. He would say this, but how could he say anything when you were standing there, looking even more beautiful than you already were? The costume you had chosen this year was an angel costume. You were wearing a knee length dress with your arms completely exposed - far too exposed for how cold it was outside at this hour - feathered wings with gold embellishments, and a matching halo headband. You'd done your makeup, something you didn't do often, and the glittery golden eye shadow really made your eyes pop. For the first time in Viktor's life, he was speechless. You were... ethereal.

He was broken out of his stupor when he heard that you were waiting on Jayce. Jayce? Ignoring the little pang of jealousy he felt (he hated it. You and Jayce had grown up together, and he was the newest addition to your lives. Of course you preferred Jayce over him.), Viktor was perplexed. You're waiting on Jayce? He asked. Jayce and Mel left for the festival an hour ago.

He hated how heartbroken you looked as that information set in. Viktor quickly realized what was happening. Jayce had ghosted you and taken Mel to the Harrowing Night festival without telling you. A hot flash of anger burned through Viktor.

In Zaun, Harrowing Night wasn't exactly celebrated. Plenty of Zaunites believed in it, but there was no grandeur to it. It was a quiet night where families placed jack-o-laterns and other wards in their windows and doorsteps in order to protect their homes from the spirits wandering about.

But Viktor knew that this night was important to you. You'd been rambling about it to him all week, telling him stories of the shenanigans you and Jayce would always get up to during the festivals throughout the years. You always had that sparkle in your eyes that he so adored.

The fact that Jayce, your best friend, did this to you? It infuriated Viktor. He thought that Jayce knew you best - a thought that had made Viktor bitter several times before - but he was quickly realizing that either Jayce didn't know anything about you or he just didn't care.

You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve to be sitting in your apartment on your favorite night of the year, trying to hold back tears to keep yourself from messing up your makeup.

Viktor wanted to fix it. He was an inventor at heart. He took things that were broken or damaged and rewired them, restored them, and made sure they worked again. He was going to make sure he succeeded with you, too.

So, Viktor tells you that he'll take you to the festival instead. He may not be as passionate about Harrowing Night as you are, but he's passionate about you. Er... about your happiness. If that means biting his tongue and going to an overrated Piltie festival with you? Dammit, that's what he was going to do.

He even put on the stupid devil horn headband that you had bought for Jayce, that way you two were in matching costumes.

Viktor had to admit... the festival was pretty neat. While the music was a little too loud, he enjoyed the hot spiced cider that he had been sipping on while walking around the plaza. There were people in costumes everywhere. Little kids, parents, couples, and friends. The air smelled like cinnamon and apples.

But most of all, Viktor enjoyed your excitement. It was like he was getting a glimpse of your younger self, coming back out of hiding to partake in the nostalgia and joy. The warm lights of the lanterns made your skin practically glow and reflected in your eyes. You'd gotten several compliments on your costume, compliments you gave back with fervor to the other costumes you saw. It didn't bother Viktor as much as he expected it to - you'd worked hard on your costume, you deserved the recognition. Besides, how could he complain when you were hugging his arm as you two walked, your warm chest pressed to his forearm as you nibbled on the funnel cake fries you'd picked up.

Yes, you enjoyed yourself thoroughly. Until about an hour in, when you'd turned a corner and spotted a little crowd gathered around a particular booth. At the center of the crowd, soaking in the attention, were Jayce and Mel. They were wearing matching costumes - your matching costumes. Jayce had taken the concept you'd come up with for you and him and decided to use it with Mel. Even more heartbreaking, Mel's costume was much more breathtaking than yours. Her wings were bigger, her dress was more beautiful, and her golden makeup and jewelry shined brighter than yours. She looked like a goddess.

Viktor wanted nothing more than to beat Jayce over the head with his cane. He knew Jayce could be a bit thick sometimes, but this crossed the line into self-centered asshole territory. Unfortunately, he had to ignore that murderous rage in order to focus on you fully. With a "Let's go" whispered lowly in your ear, he nudged you away from the crowd and away from the festival. He had an inkling that you wouldn't be able to enjoy the festival anymore tonight, and his leg was starting to ache. It was time to go home.

Still... he couldn't stand how dejected you looked as you sat on your couch, unstrapping your wings. The night was still young and he had nothing else to do that weekend, so he - quite demandingly - ushered you off to your bedroom to get comfortable. In the meantime, he set up the living room with blankets and a few snacks and drinks from your kitchen. He even dimmed the lights and lit an autumn scented candle he found on your coffee table.

That's when you returned, dressed in warm, comfortable pajamas. Hair loose, makeup wiped off. The setup made you smile, looking at Viktor with a grateful expression. He could see the faint redness to your eyes. His job wasn't quite done.

You two spend the rest of the night tangled together on your couch, draped in blankets, watching different seasonal movies. You rested your head against Viktor's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and you smiled. Maybe this Harrowing Night wasn't so bad.

As the credits of the third movie you watched rolled, Viktor noticed you'd fallen silent. He glanced down, blinking in surprise when he realized that you'd fallen asleep against him. As your chest rose and fell with your steady breathing, Viktor smiled. Maybe he could learn to love Harrowing Night.

[emerald-cloud23]

Genuinely hate what they did with the Serpentine Lore in s4 if I can be honest and ramble my frustrations here? (I go and talk about other Serpentine too)

The Anacondrai, both the dead tribe and the cultists, have very obviously a different shade of purple scales and a severe lack of black/yellow markings and crystals that Pythor has as well as the very different neck and head shape which are all very valid reasons to be disappointed in their designs, I am too. But it gets worse.

S1 shows us how Scales became the Hypnobrai general- he got different markings, got a tail and was the only one who held the staff. There was a second in command (which was Scales' previous rank in the tribe) and each member of the tribe that wasn't the general had legs. Plus, there's about four to five different designs per tribe (depends if you count the leader/general with their clearly shown special markings and tail). There is only one general per tribe.

The s4 Anacondrai lack all of that. All of them have a tail, even Garmadon and Skylor recieve snake tails despite clearly not being the Anacondrai general. This season mentions there's multiple generals in the Anacondrai tribe, yet we're only shown Anacondrai with the tail. Not a single one with legs or distinct designs. The lack of a resemblance to Pythor's markings, colors and head/neck shape is enraging enough but the absolute lack of diversity in their designs is so painful to watch as someone who literally has a degree in media design. They make it look like Pythor, even pre-bleach, like a completely different type of Serpentine while all the others are the same bland carbon copies of each other. They're literally my least favorite tribe because of this and I don't even have any Serpentine minifigures yet (except Crystalized Aspheera, but I'm getting to her later anyway) but even if I did, I wouldn't want to display them. I'd willingly display any Serpentine tribe except the Anacondrai. And that's saying something for someone who finds the designs of the Vermillion reminiscent of guts and thus dislikes them.

On the topic of the Vermillion, why not briefly discuss why there's not a single one of those with a Serpentine tail? Easy: they're the tiny baby snakes that just somehow through Ninjago logic can form human-sized Serpentine that can talk and do everything perfectly. They're basically just the little baby snakes though, and last I checked babies can't take over leadership positions.

Now, a brief look at Aspheera because people don't like that she has the ghost tail in sets instead of the Serpentine tail. And that's also really easy to answer: she's not a general, she's a sorceress. Not a general. Yes, she has a tail in the show but she has a completely different rank from the other Hypnobrai of her time that we know of (btw, I love that Char is in the flashbacks with her (except when she frees Wu and Garmadon), that's so cute imo). Speaking of Hypnobrai, did you pay attention to her in the flashbacks vs. her when she's released from the pyramid? When she's young she has Hypnobrai markings on her head but when she is free she doesn't. Why? I'd say it's like the earlier mention of markings, like how the general has their own distinct markings for whoever takes that spot & that exiled Serpentine (remember, she was to be magically entombed for her crime of overthrowing the king) just lose their markings altogether so you can easier identify those that are no longer a part of the tribe. There, problem solved. And for the question on how she could absorb fire and crystal powers? Simple: sorceress. She ccould've probably used Nya's water in crystalized too, if not for the New Ninja and police coming to lock the ninja up.

Also.. The pyro vipers? They're mummies. I assume they've been long dead even before Aspheera and the pyramids lava 'ignited'/revived them. I've no guess what tribe they could've been from but I definitely doubt that it would be a fire-related one. However, the Hypnobrai evolved physically and changed into the type that we've known since 2012 some time after Aspheera got locked in the pyramid. I also like that we got to see the Hypnobrai no longer being purely blue/grey with some yellow but that there's also some pink and purple ones now. That is, what I would say, a result of the four Serpentine tribes being locked under Ninjago city and uniting in more ways than just "we're all friends now".

[vryfmi]

IM SORRY FOR SPREADING MISINFORMATION BUT SKULL WASN'T TOM SMITH

my bad people, i only now have deciphered whole Bickerstaff lore block and for easier discussion ive transcribed it. once again, sorry for misleading.

[tl;dr] in the first draft of TWS Tom Smith was an assistant to Bickerstaff who was buried with the bone mirror. Bickerstaff framed his own death by killing him. skull in the jar is Bickerstaff. it's no longer canon, books and tv series follow different narrative.

Bickerstaff revelations

4. Basic story. Dodgy professor. Dark doings. Associates - one eaten by [rats], another went mad. Professor himself - disappeared? Or - killed by assistant...

ll How much do we know(?) (about his fake) at this point? Strange circumstances

6. Coffin opened. We think it's Bickerstaff. Holding odd gizmo [bone glass].

9. Scholar may suggest to [George] but he helps hunt for truth. Flatters him. (may genuinely think G could help him dig to bottom of it).

12. G has done some work on Bickerstaff already. When did he LIVE? assistants... who were they? Who buried him? Mystery...

13b. GHOST-JAR: some revelations. About kind of work professor [Bickerstaff] did. Skull = Tom Smith =assistant. Not fully in knows, but can tell you some things. Worked at old sanitarium. Where one bloke worked - he died… eaten by rats. Professor required he'd hidden PAPERS then he (witnessed? withered?) (of? it?) skull claims professor died… buried him, as he wished with gizmo [bone glass]

16-17. At Bick house we get psychic ?????? of events... assistant = involved there (he's Bick, but we don't realise), L sees stuff. Also -> ghost of rats bloke

18. Get m/s: which will help scholar. Doesn't tell xxx Symbols. Drawing -> ???

20. LW finds proof in Fittes Archive, but doesn't read yet

23. Revelations - LW+Lucy read what they've got from archives

g-jar = Bickerstaff

ll [know] about what doing (+ what does to one who by) ---> george doing(?) it

Revelation: LW+Lucy return home. Waiting for George. He doesn't show. Instead they look ??????? from Archives. Proves that object of [Bickerstaff] = scary indeed, also (scarier) that the skull isn't the innocent as … truth, but Bickerstaff himself. They realise that [George] + scholar are in to a ??? ? Also realise scholar's crime??

source: tweet by Stroud

[illarian-rambling]

Rel's Haunting was mentioned in my last ask and I'm intrigued can you share something about that?

Of course I can! I can also share Why I Hate Timaz pt.2

Rel's Haunting centers around a guy named Rel being haunted by a ghost, except Rel is an angel who just fell to Illaros, and the ghost haunting them is the remnants of their god.

The story opens with Rel's creation. An angel is a living tool of the gods, made to fulfill a specific function. Rel's function was to protect his god from being murdered by Timaz in the midst of a massacre of the Skysheerian gods.

See, during the War of Conquest, there were some bold moves made by various divine factions. Usually, the gods avoid interfering with mortals as a sort of mutually assured destruction pact. No one gives their worshippers too many special powers because then your competitors will give their guys special powers, and pretty soon, the world ends up nuked. However, during the War of Conquest, when the human army that would eventually become the Republic was steamrolling the south of the Iarlan continent, the elven gods of Skysheer decided to bend this truce just about as far as they could.

Instead of magic powers, they influenced the tides of luck. As the human and Skysheerian armies began to clash, if any good turn was going to be dealt, it would go to the Skysheerians. The weather was always on their side, their bowstrings never snapped, and their supply deliveries would always arrive a few days early. This wasn't strictly the granting of miracles, but it was enough to prompt a response from the Illarian.

It was decided that an example had to be set. The Illarian went to the home of the Aderenon with weapons bared. They demanded a halt to such actions, but things got out of hand, and when the Aderenon refused, the discussion turned to a battle. The Aderenon were swiftly dispatched by the more powerful human gods. However, another, smaller conflict took place at the same time.

Timaz had always had a rivalry with the god of wonder. Greed and wonder don't mix, and also the god of wonder was kind of a petty bitch. Timaz decided that he could get away with killing and stealing the power of the god of wonder in the chaos of the battle, and later blame it on one of the Aderenon. Rel was created as a desperate last act of defense by the god of wonder. They weren't able to stop Timaz from killing their god, destroying his name, and casting Rel down to the dirt.

So all that lore just leads up to where we start. Rel is a few minutes old. They're heavily injured by their fall. They know talking is a thing, but not that they're allowed to do it too. In addition, the last remnants of the god of wonder live within them, as Rel is the last remnant of his power that wasn't consumed by Timaz. The god of wonder narrates the story as he watches his beloved angel fumble their way through their first few weeks on the planet.

If you'd like to give it a read, I have it linked in my pinned post! Sorry I got a little deep into the lore, but I promise most of the story is just about Rel rambling about. Thanks for the ask!