#but it's more like a short one shot

[bamsara]

trying to figure out if the continued nausea is related to intense stress and travel schedule or something simple like food poisoning or an infection

[altcvnningham]

canis major

adler x bell!reader

summary: adler doesn’t go back to berlin to forget, but he isn’t so eager to remember, either. after leaving you for dead on that clifftop in the arctic, he knows best to leave the past well alone. too bad that past seems to be alive and walking right in front of him; though where he wants to forget, it seems you’ve already beaten him to the punch. or; bell survives solovetsky and only has a hole in her head and amnesia to show for it. read on ao3

tags/cw: bell!reader, amnesia, light angst, referenced adlerbell, somehow bell survives the ending of cw, adler can't let shit go, adler is not capable of remorse but mayyybe a lil guilt?? dog symbolism always, no pairing yet but hopefully i continue this as a spicy drabble series idk wc: 2.7k

a/n: sooo this is my first fic for the cod fandom and the first fic i've posted online in a long time so hopefully this lil ramble suffices!! i've had adlerbell brainrot and wanted to get at least something out before bo6 ruins all of my headcanons so here's a snippet of something i hopefully find the motivation to continue into a mini series. enjoy :')

Sometimes, he goes back to Berlin.

Stumbling out of the muggy bar into the dank alleyway out the back, Adler fishes out a pack of cigarettes from the front of his jacket; two firm knocks of it against his palm before he plucks one out with his mouth, pockets the box, and flips open his lighter. The clink of the metal echoes into the empty around him, the sudden quiet suffused with the sounds of passing cars on the street, muffled laughter from inside the bar, and the distant barking of dogs. Strays.

The cigarette ignites, glowing a cherry red, and he gasps around the filter greedily. Upon exhale, he sighs.

Adler isn’t a sentimental man by any means. What little he clings to, he does so with a loose grip, less than happy but stolid enough to allow whatever else he deems unnecessary slip through his fingers. Places, people. Things. Memories. Tucks the important things- logic, rationality, work, duty- into orderly compartments at the forefront of his mind, archived and marked off ‘til he needs it, while the rest, the mess, gets done away with, thrown into the great black gorge of oblivion. Anything else that stays- more often than not a thorn in his side, an unbidden, wriggling tumour he can’t find let alone cut out- is sequestered to a dark aperture in the back of his mind, anchored deep where it can’t come back up. Yet somehow, some nights, they always do. The smell of his ex-wife’s hair. The day he got his scar. Vietnam. The lab. Solovetsky—

The next word, the name, forks across his mind like lightning, and he bites his tongue before he can think it. It sits at the back of his mouth, nestled like an aching cavity in his molars. A tremulous breath that he forces down with another drag of his cigarette. Out with the rest. Out with the rest.

The barking doesn’t cease. Dogs, a pair of them, he can hear a couple streets over. He pictures them from the gravelly register of their snarling- maybe German Shepherds, a Bullmastiff or a Rottweiler. Their fight enunciated by the violent rattling of chain-link fences, segregated, the only threshold that keeps teeth from necks.

But no, not a sentimental man. He tells himself that the itch to revisit Berlin every Summer is for superficial reasons, and by no means is renting out a shithole hotel room opposite a sewer-laden river considered a vacation from anything other than the luxuries he gorges himself mindlessly on at home- maybe this is to keep him humble, more than anything. It doesn’t do well to remind himself of old times, not when he’s lived the life he has. Remembering seldom accompanies itself with the bittersweetness of reminiscence, and the taste it leaves in his mouth is always acrid. He doesn’t miss Berlin any more than he misses that dismal safehouse, or that sterile room he wheeled you into, questioned- tortured- no, interrogated- well, he doesn’t care to remind himself of the picture. Or the person he strapped to the gurney. But he catches himself thinking back to the city divided more than he likes to admit, and for whatever ostensible reason it is that drags him back here, he relents to it every time.

He tells himself it’s the weather, the cool rain a nice reprieve from the scorching California heat. Or that the food is better, not so much overprocessed shit and sugars. Can take his coffee as black as he likes without the waitress turning her nose up about it and double-triple-checking if he’s sure. And it’s the people, maybe, who leave him well enough alone. Or the drinks. The views, some places. The- air.

Not like Arctic air. Not like—

The one dog’s snarl rips bloodcurdling through the night, all froth and venom, and as the chain-link fence screeches and judders in its rusted welding the other mutt quiets a moment. Cowers under the meaner dog’s ferocity. Then, like it had been wounded, it lets out a low, anguished howl, beast reduced to a scared little pup. Adler holds the smoke in his chest around a stifled breath anticipating a release. But the first dog just grumbles, the fence clinks, and there isn’t much noise after that.

But the quiet doesn’t last long- just as Adler drops his cigarette and snuffs it with a wrench of his heel, another sound resonates, yowling through the alley.

The grinding of tires upon wet asphalt crunches from just beyond the alleyway entrance. The streetlamp overhanging the entryway glares bright yellow as it bounces off of the garishly coloured taxi cab, pulling up to a groaning halt outside the bar.

He thinks nothing of it, pulling at the collar of his leather jacket. It’s getting cold, and he’s left his drink inside. Wouldn’t want to waste good beer. Adler turns, and makes for the door.

And you step out of the car.

A half-finished cigarette bounces on the sidewalk before you exit, the softened heel of your boot following soon after in a splash upon the flooded curb. Your German is rusty- always has been- but it’s easy enough to utter a quick and easy danke as you pull yourself up out of the cab. The door shuts with a slam, and you tilt your head back to gaze up at the sign above the bar- Der Fluss Lethe glaring in faded lightbox red- and you let out a contented sigh, your breath suspended in the frigid air. Pink, bitten fingers pluck at your gloves, fingerless faded green knit, shovelling them into your jacket pocket.

Adler’s fist is already curled around the handle of the back door as he clocks your presence in his periphery, a stranger like any other- but your image resembles the one that coagulates in the borders of old memory, the dried blood of you he hasn’t been able to wash his hands of since ‘81. Enough that he does a double take, his eyes wide behind tinted glasses, and he stops, his heart following suit.

He’s seen enough bodies in his time to fill the morgue in his mind twice over, and plenty ghosts to wander coldly among the unmarked graves. Vietnam alone is an unwinding cemetery stretching endless, catacombs along the inside of his skull, lined with what his old shrink would call remorse. Guilt. As if the feeling mattered. As if self-reproach could turn self-flagellation into something so incandescent as redemption. As if the bile in the back of his throat could bring back the dead.

And it couldn’t, because it isn’t… that’s not—

Bell.

It’s in the way you stand, your back rigid, that slight slouch to your shoulders, always dragged down upon you like they bore the weight of the whole world (and they did, once, do you remember?). The pelting of rain smacks off of the lapels of your jacket and ricochets like stars, caught in the light of the streetlamp overhead, but for all he knows or cares it could be raining diamond and all he sees is you- the wrinkling of your nose as you accommodate to the cold, how your cheeks flush at the chill (as they had those nights he pulled you into the darkroom, evidence of your apprehension drowned in the red glow of safelights); your hair is longer, unkempt, but still that same colour (clumps he’d find in his clenched fist when you’d argue yourselves into a wrestling match, pinning each other by the throats to dented walls in Die Landebahn); that scar upon your brow; that wavering line of your lip, pursed and hiding behind your reticence as you always did, and your eyes- your eyes—

—you feel someone watching—

—your eyes turn, and fix upon him with the startled softness of a doe, hunter betrayed by the snapping of a branch underfoot. Adler’s heel crunches against broken glass, his hand lingering right in that threadbare threshold upon the doorhandle, and he can’t speak, can’t move, can’t think—

Open the door, Bell, open the door—

—and you stop outside the cab, your breath caught in your throat. You see a shadow in the alley, in the shape of a man.

The darkness of the alley gives enough cover that you don’t see much, but what you do make out of the man prickles at a part of your mind long dormant: the haughtily broad set of the shoulders; the halo of blond tinted red just beneath the flickering exit light above the door where he stands; the shadow of a strong, clenched jaw; and in the brief glinting of passing headlights as cars rush on behind you, you see a face half gorged by a thick, forked scar, a fissure struck down his furrowed expression. A pair of dark aviator glasses hide those eyes that you know are looking at you, reflecting back nothing but your own bewilderment.

There is something you know. Deep inside that half rotted head of yours, where an incomplete recollection of your existence before you awoke bleeding on that clifftop lies, you feel a twinge of recognition. Familiarity. Something. Something stirring deep in your marrow- a fear inherited, a conditioned surrender, a faded polaroid, a kiss? Your migraine, chronic, comes clawing back with a vengeance, as it does most nights, but this time with a savage fervour that wrenches your face into an involuntary grimace. Where the hole in your head had once been all those years ago it tickles and burns, burrowing into your brain and groping greedy fingers along remnants of memory. It claws at you, digging through your amygdala to find something fresh, something old, something palpable, real, something- anything. Searching what little remains visible to you in the thick fog of your own mind to pin a meaning to this feeling, an answer to your question, a name to that face.

You’ve seen him before. You swear. Somewhere. In a dream, reoccurring, behind a red door. You don’t know how, or why you’d think you recognise him- in those dreams, the door never even opens. Your hand ever stuck on the handle, jammed and impenetrable, what sits behind it forbidden to you. Like not even your own mind wants you to know. It confines you to your ignorance, almost blissful.

Adler’s heart kicks violently in his chest. He shot you. He killed you. He’d heard your death rattle on that clifftop in Solovetsky and the sound was almost like singing, your last word, your last breath. A miserere for your short and fractured life. And he’s looking at your ghost, standing there all owl-eyed and as beautiful as the day he found you bleeding out on that airstrip. Before he took you. Before he took you and collared you and made a damned mess of things.

The only thing separating you from the Bell he knows he killed- his Bell- is the star-shaped scar split across your left temple. The only wound he never had to sit and heal as he belligerently patched you up, poking and preening you like his prize dog. Yet in spite of never seeing it before, he recognises the wound all too well. He put it there himself.

And as you stand there for that brief moment- no more than twelve seconds stretched to an eternity- he thinks for a moment that you’ve put it together. You recognise him. You see him. As he is. You’ve figured him out, Bell, as you always do. You’re the only one to have gotten away with it, nearly. Or so he thought. And now he’s watching a corpse having dug itself out of the grave he put it in, standing there, staring at him. Suppose you’ve always been a dead man walking.

You could do it, he thinks. Turn. Fling your heel round and barrel towards him with all the enmity of a cornered animal. He thinks of the strays, barking. Can picture your mouth frothing at the sides as you sink your teeth down into him- gnarled canines, hooked to your chain-link fence- which he probably deserves. Not an unfamiliar feeling by any stretch, but one faraway enough to seem almost sweet now through the hazy lens of nostalgia. If there truly is a sentimental bone in his body after all, then maybe it’s just for that. Still, he holds his breath, awaiting the killing blow he’s surely due. But it never comes.

You release your held breath, finally, tearing your eyes away from the callous faced stranger. It’s a ridiculous notion. Just an uncanny instance of déjà vu. You don’t know that man any more than you know yourself. You settle on a more rational answer- just one of those faces. And with a disgruntled sigh you rub the scar upon your temple to soothe the ache, turn around, and enter the bar alone.

Adler sighs, his heart sinking from up high in his throat back down to his chest. His hand has latched onto the doorhandle for so long it’s gone numb from the cold, bruised knuckles bluer than they were before (bar fights- not here, but another, as there will always be). He wrestles his jaw pensively, knowing he ought to take it off, keep the door closed, turn away, and leave. Slink back, tail between his legs, to that shithole hotel room to drink himself into a stupor. Let you haunt him there, instead. As you always have.

But he doesn’t. He has no idea what idiocy compels him, what soft, dewy-eyed weak link in him snags on that chain, to willingly wander back into the viper den of reminiscence, but he wrenches his fist around the handle, pushes, and lets himself back into the bar, the thick, hot air hitting him like a drug that he breathes in, tart and sour with the cloy of sweat and alcohol but still faintly- just faintly- of you. Like rain carried along the wind.

And Russell Adler is not a sentimental man.

But from across the bar he hides behind his beer glass, watches as you move about, a phantom, weaving through the faceless mass of people celebrating a championship he cares nothing to follow. You take your order at the bar with a smile he’s never seen on you before, boots folded to tip-toes as you lean over the liquor-stickied top, your perfect mouth pink and sweet and laughing and alive. The world seems to move about you in a haze, an indistinct mist of blurred faces and bottled voices and beyond all the light and life and joy that seems to burn bright around you like a halo all he sees is you.

Maybe, then, he’s a fool.

But it isn’t lost on him, how your fingers skirt across your hair in an attempt to hide the scar upon your temple. Nor is it lost on him how you wince at the feeling, the stars in your eyes dimmed for just a split second as you shiver, like a touch imperceptible running fingers down your back. Nor even the way you fight the urge to look, to follow the feeling of his eyes fixed upon you, and surely not the way you lose that fight, surrendered to it, your sweet face turning and finding him in an instant. Without so much as trying, like instinct, like something as pathetic and saccharine as fate. Your heart called to it, a lighthouse in the fog. Port in the storm. Ships passing in the night but called crashing to the same shore.

(The pieces of you are scattered everywhere, Bell. He finds you in every split seam inside himself. Splintered shrapnel dug through his temporal lobe, severing synapses ‘til they go dark. Even stars die quicker than that. Quicker than you. Is that what it felt like for you, too? When the lights went out, was it him you last saw- or the sky, waxen, over the Arctic? A waning night, a distant moon. The inconsequence of death- brief celestial ephemera.)

The stranger across the bar looks at you, offering nary a smile, eyes indiscernible behind shadowed sunglasses. And where you ought to find his apparent coldness disconcerting, instead you wring out of your chest with a white-knuckled caress a feeling like… comfort.

Sometimes, Bell, you go back to Berlin. You don’t quite know why.

[pkmoth]

ohhh my GOD this took so much time but WOOOO BATTLE SPRITES!!!!!!!!!!! HELL YES!!!!!!!!!!! i was Also able to mod them actually In Game which is SO exciting i feel so proud of myself

ANYWAYS UM!!!! heres king lucas hes fine and sane and normal i promise <33333 will yap more about him in the eventual au masterpost once i get this aus loop design drawn :]

party menu | in love and time au tag

[petite-phthora]

Can I kiss you?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 1]

Next >>

Ao3

---

“—so sorry! I swear I didn’t mean to kill him! It was an accident! He just jumped me out of nowhere and I have had bad experiences with clowns in the past so when I saw it was a clown trying to kidnap me I kinda just panicked and punched him! I swear, dude, I didn’t mean to hit him so hard—“

Jason, much too calmly, likely in some form of shock, rises from the crouched-down position he had been in to check the clown corpse’s pulse.

He had seen the poor, still rambling, twink getting grabbed from a distance and was about to step in as Red Hood, not even having been aware it was the Joker who —shouldn’t he have been in Arkham? There has been no announcement of him breaking out yet— had grabbed the guy until he had run close enough to the scene.

Which was after the guy had already been startled so badly by the Joker trying to kidnap him that he sucker punched the Joker into the wall of the alley so hard the clown died.

Said twink then realized what he had done and that he had a witness, that witness being Red Hood himself, and had started his frenzied speech on how it was an accident and to please don’t take him to jail he’s only just started his scholarship at Gotham U. and he can’t have murder on his track record yet.

Breathless, Jason looks at the nervous twink in front of him, who's still trying to plead his case, and who just obliterated the Joker with a punch.

Before his brain can catch up to his mouth, he’s already cutting the distressed monologuing off.

“Can I kiss you?” He blurts out.

Danny, taken off guard, breaks out of his panicked—oh, Ancients, I just killed someone— stupor and lets out a startled laugh.

“Take me out to dinner first” came the automatic joking reply, Danny still largely in shock of what he did.

Jason, either not picking up on the joking tone or ignoring it, nods seriously, already trying to come up with the best place for a dinner date with the cute twink to thank him for his service to the city.

Danny, who has calmed down slightly by now, glances between the red-helmed vigilante and the clown corpse. His gaze lands on Red Hood and he hesitantly speaks up again.

“So, uh, what happens now? Do I need to go to the station to make a statement orrrr?” He pauses awkwardly.

Jason, who’s still trying to figure out whether the Bat Burger would be a good place for a first date or not, doesn’t reply.

“I’ve got school in the morning and I only have like,” he pauses to check his phone for the time, “3 more hours before I have to be up for my first lesson. Soooo, I’m just gonna go. That cool?”

Again, he waits for a reply. But it doesn’t come.

“Right. Cool cool. Uh, see you later? Mr. Red Hood dude sir?” Danny gives a clumsy and awkward salute before turning tail and speed-walking away.

It’s not until 30 minutes later, once Jason has finally decided on the perfect place to take the guy to dinner to, that he realizes the twink is gone.

Fuck, he forgot to ask for the guy’s name.

…

And number.

[nekittie]

once again obsessed with the “buck and stiles are cousins” concept because my brain truly hates me.

[ducktracy]

proper reupload in the high quality this fantastic segment so deserves; eagle pig and duck bias notwithstanding, this will forever be my favorite variant of the fabled switcheroo (and a reminder that Daffy was first at his own game!) the committal on behalf of both characters--especially the sincerity of Daffy's feigned sincerity--really sets it apart

[hollowsart]

seriously, Marvel. please consider a little series of comics that focus solely on the mundane side of Spider-Man's rogues' lives. like focusing solely on those who were and are a part of the Sinister Six cuz those are popular favorites.

let us see more about them beyond being villains and plotting and scheming to rob banks/tech facilities or take down Spider-Man. let's see more of their more mundane side.

I'd do ANYTHING for a comic about Mysterio and his every day life outside the villain persona. I already know a Doc Ock focused one would do MAD Numbers from his fanbase.

no lie, Electro fans would go haywire if there was a comic focused on Max Dillon and his less energetic lifestyle.

I ADORE world building and I think we could use some more for the villains. their environments can tell a lot more about them as a character and I think we really could use more of that in general within Marvel as a whole. there's a lot of focus on the characters and their relationships, but it's limited to purely dialogue. a telling and never really showing. and what it tells doesn't do too much.

slap some more DEPTH and INTRIGUE into these characters!!

What are their daily morning routines?? When they're NOT plotting and scheming and having to secretly meet up with other bad guys to make top secret exchanges to further their devious plans. Like.. HOW do they prefer to live and decorate their living spaces?? Show and tell us more about their likes and dislikes!!! DO they have other talents? Did they have any other career ideas they would have enjoyed besides the ones they ended up with? ANYTHING more would be nice!!

I'm just a sucker for world building and character developments beyond the base narrative limitations.

[quamaii]

Max when the contraption he built specifically for Jimmy to throw knives at Duncan is used by Jimmy to throw knives at Duncan:

[no-s-estelle]

I've been gnawing on The Librarians like a dog on a bone ever since I finished the series a few weeks ago, and now I have Thoughts:

I hope the new show explores more of the library's history and the magical universe around the library. There's so much potential for Lore there, and so many implications the show never touched on. The library's existed for over 2000 years, but all the Librarians we see are white Europeans/Americans? (Besides Ezekiel) Technically Charlene and Judson as the original Guardian and Librarian must have been ancient Roman, Greek, Egyptian maybe, but that was never explored. The library went from Alexandria to the New York Metropolitan Library? Where was it in the interim? It could have literally been anywhere in the world! Show me the library in tsarist Russia, or Edo Japan, or the Incan empire. Or at least mention that the library spent time anchored there. You have 2000 years of history to play with, ffs.

And then in the earlier seasons the show implied the existence of a whole magical society, and then barely did anything with it. Show me how the library as an institution impacts the magical world, beyond just collecting and locking away artifacts! Give me more librarians mediating disputes between pissed off dragons, except we don't have the CGI budget for actual dragons so they're just guys in fancy suits! What happened with the lake forum??? I kept waiting for that to be a bigger storyline, and it never went anywhere, even though Cassandra kept using magic. It felt like an unfired Chekhov's gun. Just. Just give me lore, please.

From press releases, it looks like the new show is going to at least start off in Serbia? Or just generic Central Europe? So I'm interested in what they do with that. Idk, I mostly want them to really lean in to the world-wide storytelling potential, even if they shoot it all in Oregon. I believed the same one forest in British Columbia was 50 different alien planets for Stargate; I'll believe Oregon is China or Japan or West Africa or wherever they want me to believe it is.

[beanghostprincess]

Thinking about giving Shanks a weird obsession/ Pavlovian response to lipstick of all things. I’m imagining Buggy as a teen practicing his first stage makeup and going trough the motions, glitter, eyeshadow, liner, spending ages getting the crossbones right. He’s not quite satisfied with his first try of lipstick and wipes it off before he even finishes his upper lip. Shanks teases him from his bunk, Buggy’s been looting the kitchen for cooking oil, since that’s the easiest makeup remover he can acquire, for weeks now, but the other boy is on a mission and he’s so close to figure out his first perfectly flashy look, so he’s uncharacteristically hard to rile up today. He goes trough the motions again, liner, lipstick, swabbing of a bit of excess color with a paper towel. It’s hypnotic to Shanks for some reason he can’t quite explain yet. He watches as his friend pops his lips once, twice, sticks his thumb in his mouth. „What was that last part for?“ „Getting it off my teeth.“ Buggy turns, lips bright red and white teeth flashing him a ferocious grin. "What do you think?" Shanks thinks he will never get sick of watching Buggy try out every color under the sun on his face. That hes like a Parrot, loud and colorful and just as silly and ridiculous and pretty. That he wants to taste greasepaint and kiss that pretty shade of red off of Buggys face himself. "Flashy!" is what he answers instead with a thumbs up.

Years later Shanks still thinks the act of putting on makeup is mesmerizing, catches a look of a young woman lining her lip with a compact mirror and stares for a second. It’s awkward, always having to excuse himself later, because of course this reads to everyone around him as flirting, but it would be cruel to make someone hope for something like this. It’s not like it’s their fault after all. The color might be right but it’s never the right person.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha I am so normal about them hahahahahahahaha

Thinking about Shanks always remembering how much he wanted to kiss Buggy that day and how close he had been to doing it,,, If I can make it gayer and angstier please because I can't stop thinking about this,,, Can I,,, Can I use this for a fanfic,,,, Can I please,,, I will beg if you want to pleasepleaseplease can I,, Can I write a fanfic,,, About this,,, Anon pleas-

[transmascutena]

finding a good reaction series for any anime is so hard, and then trying to find one for utena is like trying to find a needle in a very small haystack, i think i've only found like one or two??? that have actually been pretty enjoyable?? and by that i mean, like, where the reactors actually take the show seriously and try to analyze and understand all of the symbolism/meaning/commentaries on society instead of being just like 'woahhh that was weird ig, oh well' and just moving on. although one of the ones i enjoyed also completely missed that juri was in love with shiori in her first episode but honestly i found that more hilarious than frustrating considering how good they were at picking up other small details and how blatantly it was spelt out hfsiuacjk. suffice to say, they figured it out later.

but like when I found the other good reactor to utena it was SOOO nice. like. i don't need the reactor to be absolutely correct on everything and catch every single detail, i just need somebody WILLING to actually engage with the show, and have the ability to look deeper than surface level. i've watched this reactor regularly for a while and i figured utena was the type of weird symbolic stuff he would really enjoy, but when I was proven right and he loved the show and loved the characters and created well-reasoned theories and predictions it was SOOOO satsifying. and i can probably never recommend him to anyone in good faith because he can make some tasteless jokes that i've been pretty desensitized to over the years because he says them more as a bit, but it's still to the extent that I can't tell how other people would take it if they were to watch him for the first time. but when it came to the utena and akio stuff he immediately understood that the show was depicting grooming and abuse and treated it as such in his commentary even before episode 33. and i know like that's probably a low bar, but after seeing people think it was a legit romance, it was so gratifying to see the actions of akio being responded with immediate disgust. he said that utena was probably in his favorite shows of all time at the end of the series, and he was so excited at almost every twist of the plot, so altogether my favorite reactor.

anyways, all that's to say, do you have any reaction series recommendations for utena that you think were a good watch? thanks for your time and all of your great utena posting!

only utena reaction series i remember liking pretty much all the way through was the one by semblance of sanity. there were probably things they missed or whatever as there will always be on a first viewing, and some of the things they said about the final episode in particular were a bit odd (though i've forgotten what exactly it was), but generally it was very enjoyable to me. you could tell they liked the show a lot and wanted to understand it and i think it also helped that they were two people who could bounce ideas and theories off each other. most reactors do it alone which can in my opinion get a bit stale at times. it was really just one of those things where i was looking forward to the new episode from them every single week (maybe helped too that it was only my own second or third rewatch and i was looking for new stuff myself still). i even subscribed to their patreon for a month towards the end so i could view the full uncut reactions, meaning i effectively watched the whole thing twice, but i don't think that was the smartest use of my money or my time lol

[sannyo-appreciation-posts]

What Exactly Is Sannyo Smoking?

Well of course it sucks Mamizou, don't you remember what she said it's made of?

Now, an herb you can smoke that can grow on a mountain. The first, most obvious, initial guess would be marijuana. It's a weed after all, it can grow basically anywhere. Plus, let us be honest, it would be a little funny.

marijuana can definitely grow on mountains, it even grows on mountains in Central Asia

Plus, it is apparently spreading over northern Japan right now as a weed. They used to grow it for hemp material, not to smoke, it would probably not do much, but that wouldn't stop Sannyo if she wanted to give it a shot.

(Except I'm deliberately teasing)

There is a very, very obvious reason why it's not marijuana.

Marijuana has no nicotine, even though you can smoke it, it's not by any stretch of the imagination "tobacco"

Even if we imagine a world where this is the only thing Sannyo ever smoked, Mamizou smoked it with her and just said it was bad tobacco, not to mention Mamizou has recently been to the outside world and would probably know weed in seconds. (Which, although hypothetical, would have made for a hilarious Mamizou thought bubble)

We are looking for "tobacco" after all, we need nicotine, not just anything you can smoke, but it's a weed and a popular joke, so I obviously had to tease.

I could go through every variant of wild Nicotiana, tobacco was even imported to Japan by Portuguese sailors in 1542, and it's cultivation was legalized in 1625. The Hakurei barrier was formed in 1885, that's actually plenty of time for actual wild tobacco to spread.

But it might not work either.

While we might find some enthusiastic and previously cultivated tobacco growing as a weed that spread up to the mountains, it's not going to be unique enough. It'll be growing all over the place by the time it gets up a mountain. And the village would be smoking that exact same thing.

But most importantly, it's no fun.

Truth be told, there is a genus of Nicotiana that would work well in mountains, furthermore, Portugal actually had some at the time as an import from the Americas. But thats no fun, so I'll just return to this later when I inevitably run out of exotic options.

After all, if its tobacco made from "herbs" it would boarder on cheating to just use nicotiana, regardless of the form it ends up in.

Thankfully, there are other herbs and weeds beyond nicotiana that actually have nicotine, it really would be worthwhile check one of those.

And I've got a fun one. A whole family in fact.

Just above the Genus: "Nicotiana" is the Tribe: "Nicotianeae" and above that we find the family Solanaceae.

The Solanaceae, also known as the potato or deadly nightshade family

Nicotine is a naturally produced alkaloid in the nightshade family of plants

It contains everything from eggplants and other vegetables to the infamous Deadly Nightshade. (Atropa belladonna)

And of course, like I said, further down the family, it even has nicotiana itself. All of them contain nicotine to some greater or lesser extent. (Yes, hilariously even eggplants, a little bit)

Solanaceae consists of about 98 genera and some 2,700 species. They grow naturally in more parts of the world than wild Nicotiana.

But we are just going to be looking through the nightshade variations, maybe some fruit, but no potatoes today. And these are coveniently famous for their narcotic effects.

And some varieties, such as the Datura stramonium (occasionally called the Devil's Trumpet) had its leaves smoked in pipes and cigarettes, so much they were traded by the East India Company in the 18th century. And since it was popular for traditional medicine, some people might have even planted it.

But that type is not native to Japan, so it's got the same problem as the nicotiana. Not to mention, even though its an invasive weed, and can survive a little below the freezing point, in its current state, it probably doesn't like mountains. It probably wouldn't last a full winter on one.

This might be definite enough to just say it can be some hypothetical, wild, non specific variation of nightshade with the right combination of alkaloids and nicotine and presumably, relatively non deadly in the form Sannyo uses it.

Or maybe it is just better adapted to mountains form of imported of the Datura stramonium I just mentioned. I doubt even if it spread like a weed, that anyone but Sannyo would bother to figure out you can smoke that type of plant as tobacco.

But we are mostly just having fun at this point.

I doubt we could possibly think Zun cared up to this point, and definitely not beyond this point, we are just doing a fun overanalysis after all. Zun almost always seems to go for extinct species anyway, so it wouldn't be fun to follow that train of thought regardless..

[But if we just want a probable canonical answer Zun thought up. He might have just meant some non specific extinct variation of nightshade, since if there is at least one native version then that's enough to claim there could have once been others,

Besides, it's even possible zun just imagined she could possibly even mix her favorite flowers somehow, which while she probably could not, it would definitely be cute. ]

But we are going to take this further anyway to see if we can find something real and possible that currently exists today.

The simplest thing to think of native to Japan is just Japanese belladonna (Zun's proof of concept for an imaginary extinct nightshade if he really wanted a hypothetical one)

Scopolia japonica, also called Japanese belladonna. It's about as dangerous as the name implies. If eaten by mistake it can cause hallucinations. And while it no doubt contains at least some nicotine, it also contains the alkaloids Scopolamine

And more hilariously Hyoscyamine, known for helping the colon or bladder...

yes, you can use this extract to help you poop or pee if you want too.

Which is even funnier than the marijuana joke i made earlier.

And the only other species in the Scopolia genus is pretty similar and in Korea.

So we'll want to find something different.

But we are trapped. We only have imports left.

And the Datura genus we'd likely want is stuck in the Americas so we can only really consider a variety that came from those possible 18th century imports of Datura stramonium.

They are pretty perfect, tbh, spread widely to the Old World early where it has also become naturalized, and since it was already a weed that could endure dry climate and fairly cold environments. It could probably spread up a mountain.

They are our best bet for something you can smoke for recreation, with nicotine, outside the nicotiana genus that only Sannyo would use. If smoked people used its properties for recreation but you can also use it for anesthesia. Inject it's primary ingredient Atropine and you can use it for all sorts of weird stuff. (Though I pretty much resigned myself to having Atropine in the plant the moment I decided to run up and down the nightshade family).

Though in truth, she's probably just smoking wild tobacco that has lost a lot of flavor while struggling to adapt the mountain. So I'll move on to the most likely answer.

Portugal's more early tobacco is Nicotiana rustica, also called Aztec tobacco.

It is pretty tough and would probably adapt to a mountain pretty well.

I'd like to think it's the Datura stramonium since it's cooler and weird though.

In overview:

The simplest, best answer is just wild imported Aztec tobacco (Nicotiana rustica) from Portugal. Which had trade with Japan open up extremely early. Its honestly perfect for this

Followed by the more provocative option of Devil's Trumpet (Datura stramonium) imported later in the 18th century.

and the funny option. The only one actually native to Japan

Japanese belladonna (Scopolia japonica)

But it's almost definitely just that Aztec tobacco. (Nicotiana rustica)

We could just imagine she mixes flowers or herbs into it to validate her "herbs" comment if we want (which again, would be cute)

[zappedbyzabka]

NEVER FORGET

[thebirdandhersong]

the miserable angry person I become when I haven't eaten is, in a word, atrocious. it is 9pm I have not had my dinner murder is about to be on the menu if I don't fix this soon

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacqueline 44/52: Halloween scrimbly! Jack and Jacqueline are gonna kill it at the Legend-Legate Halloween Party because yes, Jacqueline did indeed get Jack on board...

All he had to do was dare her to cut her hair for it! It went a little like this...

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

It started, (as most things did for her, weirdly enough) with a sprite sleep.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary. Especially this close to Spring’s approach. Work ramped up for Jacqueline and like, nine out of ten times Dite would be startled by a large thump out in the atrium, only to see her girlfriend COVERED in snow laying face down by the pond.

“Long day?”

“SO long and I am SO tired. I can’t even make it to the bedroom. What EVER will a cute LIGHT AS A FEATHER sprite like me do~”

Apparently, roll over, throw the back of her hand over her forehead and pout with really big cute eyes right at Dite.

“Well it’s a GOOD THING your fluffy, tall, and VERY strong girlfriend is here to rescue you.” She knelt down, picked her up bridal style and flew the pair of them right to her rarely used bed.

“Boop!”

“Hehe. Boop.”

A finger came up, booped her nose, and in seconds Jacqueline was passed out, a welcome chilly presence against Dite’s side.

They stayed cuddled like that for a while. Dite amused herself in the meantime. Stole Jacqueline's phone and scrolled through the tag she had for stuff to show Dite later. Let her brother know where she was, threatening him under pain of death should he try to wake his sister up and bring her back out into the field (he promised he wouldn’t and said he, too, was in hiding and Winter was who they had to watch out for). Checked in with Elle, since, y’know, Jacqueline’s phone was RIGHT THERE and Dite knew her url. Napped for a bit.

But when it became apparent that Jacqueline’s sprite sleep was just that, and would last more than half a day, Dite wriggled her way out and shifted to watch mode.

It was quite fun, really. Keep up with her notifications, place sweets on the bedside tables to see if they’d rouse the sprite (and they did but Dite always missed it by THAT MUCH, only knowing Jacqueline had eaten the treats based on crumb distribution), re-tuck her in every so often, cuddle when Dite decided sure, why not, she could totally sleep for a bit! You know, that sort of thing.

And while keeping vigil at her side, Dite booted up her PS4 and played her very favourite game possibly ever: Hades.

She lost count of how many runs she did. But she got a fair way along in the storyline by the time Jacqueline woke up. So much so that she didn’t even notice the sprite rouse and slowly make her way to the edge of the bed. And she must’ve been there for a hot minute because it wasn’t until Dite had dealt the final punch onto Learnie that she realized her girlfriend was awake and watching, and NOT because she had noticed calmly while button smashing. No.

It was because the moment Learnie exploded, Jacqueline made a noise that may have been a purr? And said, “Mm. That's hot.”

Right in Dite’s ear.

Needless to say, Dite was startled. So much so her flight and fight response kicked in and she shot into the air, longbow drawn, arrows ALREADY LAUNCHED before she realized what had happened.

“Oh! Oh no! Jacqueline! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Jacqueline pulled an arrow out of the bed, feathers flying about. “It’s fine! I scared you! My bad. I knew you were in the zone but didn’t realize how in the zone you really were—hhh.”

The breath escaped the sprite as Dite grabbed her in a very tight hug. Emphasis on the tight.

“Dite. Dite. I need to breath—” the top of her head was wet. Why was it wet? Was Dite—

“I’m s-s-sorry!”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to cry about it!” Wiggling out of Dite’s grip (a challenge in itself), Jacqueline managed to throw her arms around the goddess’s neck and squish her nice and tight. “I’m okay! Really.”

She pulled back and held onto Dite’s face, wiping the wet off her cheeks and immediately booping noses.

“Boop!”

Dite laughed. “You’re so cute.” sniffling, she wiped the rest of the wet away, fanning her face. “Whew. Okay. Okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Positive! It’s just a couple arrows.” She pulled another one out of the bed. “And I’m slippy.”

Laughing, Dite pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “Okay! If you insist.”

“Which I do. You’re playing Hades? That game you've been telling me about for like. GOD. Two years at this point?”

“Yep!” Chipper, Dite floated back down to the bottom of the bed, picking up the controller and popping Zagreus up to the next level. “It was a fun way to spend the time while you slept. How long have you been watching?”

“I woke up to a you died screen. Very disorienting. But then I got to watch you go through the underworld! Nyx is hot. So is Achilles. Like, everyone in that house was pretty hot.”

“If you think that, just wait! There’re a bunch of characters that weren’t in the house during that run! Wait until you see Thanatos. You’re gonna think he’s so hot”

Grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around herself like a cloak, Jacqueline picked up her phone, plopping down to sit beside Dite as she continued her run.

“It’s been a while since you played it.”

“It has! I got busy and I’d beaten the main plot. Now I’m doing the epilogue plot! And I’ve added some heat to make it harder, which is why I died so soon! One of the bosses was given a chariot and a MACHINE GUN. I think. And I was NOT ready for it.”

“Why did you pick it back up again? Had the urge?”

“All MONTH actually! They announced a sequel.”

“They did?”

“Yeah! It looks super cool! Here, let me show you the trailer.”

Pausing the game, she pried Jacqueline’s phone out of her hand, pulling up the Hades 2 sneak peek. Jacqueline watched with rapt interest, eyes going big.

“Woah. That looks dope.”

“Right? And it looks like it has a LOT more gameplay and I am SO EXCITED! I can’t wait until it goes into beta! I’m hoping I can play it during pre-release. I think you’ll really like it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! The protagonist uses MAGIC! AND she’s trying to rescue her family! She’s Zagreus’s little sister.”

“Oh, cute! Maybe I’ll keep tabs on it then, if you think I’ll like it. And also, magical little sister. LOVE that.”

Dite giggled. “I thought you would. Wanna try playing the first one?”

“Maybe later. For now, I am perfectly content sitting right here and watching you play.” Pecking Dite’s cheek, she grabbed her phone back and opened it up, catching up on messages.

“What did you do to my recent emojis?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

It had also started small.

After their brief chat, Jacqueline didn’t really show any more interest in the game, though she was happy to start her own save and do a run or two or five. Which Dite had expected, of course! Jacqueline always liked up close combat and was a big fan of button smashing (you had to be when you played Super Smash Bros with her younger siblings. They were FAST—but Jacqueline was faster and Dite, even faster!) and Hades was full of button smashing.

And incredibly hot characters, according to Jacqueline. Dite took her word for it.

At any rate, Dite was not prepared for the ensuing love the sprite ended up having for the game’s sequel. Not until she got back from work to...WAY too many missed texts from Jacqueline.

DITE IT ENTERED EARLY ACCESS

I gotta pay for it? WHACK.

GUESS WHAT I JUST DID

OH GIRL IT’S DOWNLOADING

I can't find my ding dang controller

I STOLE YOUR BLUE ONE! SORRY BABE XOXO

Oh girl. GIRL. It’s so cool

Oh it’s so FUN

Okay. Just got my ass whooped.

OKAY WOW YEAH super different mechanics but like, really fun. She has this cool thing that I think replaces Zag’s cast basically? But it’s like a big sigil looking thing and it KEEPS THE LIL GUYS FROM MOVING ABOUT! I love it

NEW GODS

THEY’RE HOT

SOME OF THEM LITERALLY

I don't wanna give you too many spoilers but lmk if you’re free tonight? I’ll bring my laptop! And return your controller. Maybe. Idk it’s my favourite shade of blue, so...😈😈😈

There was a brief gap, according to the timestamps. Enough for a couple of runs, Dite guessed. The messages continued after, borderline unintelligible (Dite thanking the gods for small miracles like autocorrect as she read on).

Oh

Oh NO

DITE

DITE SHE NEVER GOT TO MEET HE R BROTHER

SJVHUHVUI

VUUEAKCJWNE

ASDFGHJKL

I’M SO SAD AND HEARTBROKEN OMG

SHE DIDNT GET TO MEET HER BROTHER? NOW SHE HAS TO GO SAVE HIM? SHE’S NEVER GOTTEN TO MEET ZAG?? I THOUGHT THEY HAD LIKE SOME TIME TOGETHER BEFORE CHRONOS BUT APPARENTLY NOT???

OH SHE’S SO CUTE WHEN SHE’S LITTLE I’M 🥺😭🤯

Another bout of silence before the final string of texts.

...girl I'm hooked.

I'm OBSESSED

I need the full game SO BAD

MELINOË 😭🥺😭🤩🤩🌨😭🧜🏻‍♂️

That seemed to be the end of it. Dite giggled to herself, quickly typing a few replies.

Well the good news is now, you own the full game! Yay💕💕💕! We should share Steam libraries if we haven’t already! 😘😘

So sorry for the late replies, blue eyes! 💙💙 It's high season for me! But I'm home now and yes, absolutely free.

What do you want for dinner? I can grab something or make something and we can hole up here for the night! Just you, me, and the sequel to critically acclaimed god-like, rogue-like dungeon crawler game Hades 2! 💙💖⚔

Also the controller is your favourite shade of blue because I got it for you, silly! 😘💕

The replies were instantaneous.

Is for me? YAY! 😁😁😁

I’ll be right over!

Can we do Za from that place by the tower of Pisa? 🥺🥺🥺

🍕🍕🍕🍕

Dite laughed.

Sure! I’ll grab it and meet you back here?

😎🆒

And that was Jacqueline for yes.

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

It was obvious once she’d returned with the pizza that Jacqueline was absolutely ENAMOURED with the game. The love radiated off of her in waves as she talked about it!

And talk about it she did. The pair of them spent the entire evening and well into the morning taking turns doing runs, guessing story beats, and trying to see who could make it farther out in the runs each in-game night.

By the time the sun rose down below them, Jacqueline had unlocked the path up to Olympus, and BOTH girls had squealed in excitement (enough to upset several cherubs as they flew away angrily. One even hissed).

They’d called it there, then. Angry cherubs made for a bad time.

But that certainly didn’t stop Jacqueline.

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

Whether with Dite or on her own, Jacqueline could not get enough of the game. It was like Dite said; she was enamoured with it. She loved it on its own, and she loved how much fun she had when playing it alongside Dite.

And maybe, just maybe, she felt a bit for Melinoë.

Whatever the case, it fast became one of her favourite games and was very much on the mind when talk of the Legend-Legate Halloween party came up once more.

For the last almost fifteen years running, Santa had been joining the festivities given that he now had a Legate of his own.

And for the last near fifteen years running, Santa and Charlie had won the costume contest every. Single. Time.

So when July came around and Halloween hit the shelves, talk of the costume party came up once more amongst Jacqueline and her Legend, the Big Bother himself.

It’d become a regular lament around this time of year.

See, she and Jack had won the contest since their first year both attending post reunion. They had held onto the trophy for a couple of sweet, sweet years when Charlie got his Legate status and he and Santa swooped in and managed to steal the trophy every goddess damned year.

“And I am tired of it, Jacqueline! I mean, the only reason they’re winning is because they have  SEVERAL departments FILLED with costume experts, I mean, come on. It simply isn’t fair!”

And sure, maybe Jack had a point. But like, they were using the resources they had at their disposal so like. You know. Why not.

Jacqueline had said as much, only for Jack to grumble and glower and tell her to stop defending the enemy.

“In fact, you should stop fraternizing with the enemy, too! No Charlie hangouts until after Halloween.”

Jacqueline had bit her tongue. Swallowing her laughter, she cleared her throat.

“Okay, but like, if I do that…how will we know our enemy? We can’t defeat them if we don’t know them, you know?”

“No, I don’t know! Good point! Okay, fine. Keep fraternizing. We’ll see who fraternizes last.”

Jacqueline snorted. “What the frost does that mean?!”

“I’m having a moment, Jacqueline! You think I know what the things I say mean when I’m having a moment?!?! Honestly. Where’s the support!”

He’d gone on for another good twenty minutes, much to Jacqueline’s amusement. Finally, though, he had eased off, and chit chat returned to the regular gossiping and bitching as they made sure to keep the snowcapped mountains…well. Capped with snow.

Of course, before finishing for the night Jack had once again reminded her to start thinking of a costume that would beat the Calvin-Claus duo once and for all.

It was distracting her something fierce that evening. She’d already lost two death defies to Chronos! TWO! And that hadn’t happened in like, the last ten Underworld runs. Goddess above, the costume thing shouldn’t be bothering her that much.

Finally getting the last hit in on Chronos, Jacqueline sighed. She piloted Melinoë around the decrepit House of Hades, really wishing the game was fully out. She was dying to see how gameplay would work re: saving the rest of Melinoë’s family. She also really, really wanted to reunite her with Zag! She couldn’t WAIT to see the plotlines and the arcs and the—

Oh. Now there’s a thought.

Sending Melinoë back to the Crossroads, Jacqueline sat up straight.

She knew exactly what costumes would give them the trophy this year.

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

“DITE!”

“JACQUELINE!”

“I JUST HAD A BRILLIANT IDEA.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! I can trust you, right?”

Dite laughed. “We are literally dating, Jacqueline. Of course you can trust me! Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“Because this isn’t your run of the mill Jacquie brand idea. This is serious stuff, Dite. This is...Halloween related.”

“Oh! You’ve thought of a costume for you and Jack? For the Legend-Legate party?”

“YES! And I think it’ll have a really good chance at winning the whole thing.”

Dite’s wings fluttered. “That’s wonderful! What’s the catch?”

“For this to work, there are two big things I have to do. The first one: use what I have at my disposal which is a literal goddess of a girlfriend.”

Dite flicked her ponytail. “Hedone is at your service!”

“I like that you added the sparkles.”

“You don’t think that was too much?”

“No! Not at all! I loved it!”

Dite grinned, hovering. “Yay! So what do you need from me?”

“Access to godly forages and godly resources.”

“Done! We’ll check in with Mom’s side of the family, they’ll probably let us do more nonsense than Dad’s side. So what’s number two?”

“I need to convince Jack to do it.”

“Why is that?”

“I think we should go as Mel and Zag.”

Dite brightened. “Oh! Oh, I love that idea! That’s so cute! We can make the weapons HERE and we’ve got TONS of reference material to get the fits JUST RIGHT and I can find some laurels for you both that’ll REALLY make the look proper godly, ou, it’s going to be SO FUN. I bet Jack’ll go for it!”

“I know if worse comes to worse I can guilt him about it but that’s not really how I want to go about doing it, you know? At least, not seriously.”

“Well, how about a PowerPoint?”

Jacqueline blinked. “Oh, shit! That is a great idea! I fucking love PowerPoints!”

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

And that’s how, months later, Jack found himself at Jacqueline’s recently-restored-forgotten-about-house, seated on the huge sofa and watching as Jacqueline set up a PowerPoint presentation on the TV, Dite grinning like a maniac beside him.

“And…there we go! Open up!”

The PowerPoint loaded.

“Why Jack and Jacqueline Should Attend the Legend-Legate Party as Zagreus and Melinoë from critically acclaimed, god-like, rogue-like game Hades and its sequel, Hades 2. That’s a bit of a mouthful, don’t you think?”

“But it gets the point across, right?”

“Jacqueline, I don’t even know who these characters are.”

“Well good news for you: The first half of this PowerPoint will make sure you know just that. We’ll start with the first game, because that’s where your character comes from: Zagreus, Prince of the Underworld!”

By some miracle, Jack actually sat through the entire slideshow, paying rapt attention and interrupting a minimal amount and learning quite a bit. Dite was more than happy to compare the game to both sides of her family in real life, much to Jack’s amusement. By the time Jacqueline made her way through the Hades 2 portion, Jack had a pretty good working knowledge of the characters and the game. Games, that is.

“So! In conclusion! Here’s why we should go as these two. One: they’re siblings, so are we! Two: they’re MAGICAL siblings. So are we! Three. They are INSANELY hot. Four: LOOK at how BADASS their fits are! Five: the big ass weapons are DOPE and WILL get us bunny votes. Six: I’ve gone ahead and pulled a Santa and Charlie and used the resources I have at my disposal.”

“Which are?”

“Ta-da!” Jacqueline grinned, presenting Dite. “Celestial girlfriend!”

“That’s me! AND I’ve gone ahead and gotten everything we need to get this going!”

“You know, Dite, technically you’re the enemy here too.”

“Hey! Jack! Be nice!”

“No, it’s okay babe! He’s right. But here's the thing. I love Jacqueline very very much and,” she leaned closer to Jack, her cheery disposition falling, determination taking its place, “I want to see Santa and Charlie go down just as bad as you two do.”

Jack looked surprised. Pleasantly so. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Alright then.”

“So? What do you say?! Please? Please Jack? Pretty please?”

Jack looked thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his chin and hemming and hawing.

“Need I remind you about the time you accidentally stabbed me and then left for fourteen hundred years?”

“You do not, thanks.”

“Okay, good. Just checking. So? What’s the answer?”

“Tell you what, little flurry. I’ll do this costume with you. But! If and only if you cut your hair as short as Melinoë’s for the thing. You know, authenticity’s sake and such.”

Jacqueline patted her hair which was, presently, very, very, very long. “My hair?”

Jack nodded. “Yep! Off it goes. Right up past your shoulders.”

“...done.”

Jack sat up in shock. “Really?”

“Yeah! I’ll cut my hair for this. But you HAVE to go as Zagreus. No take-back-sies, especially after my hair cut.”

Jack smirked. “Done.”

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

About a week before Halloween, Jack popped by to visit the fam only to find Jacqueline with very, very, very short hair.

“Wow,” he said, pulling out his seat and helping himself to the coffee time spread. “You really went and did it.”

“Yep! I told you I would! And also, you dared me to."

"Ah yes! Right. I did, didn't I?"

"Yep. And Jacqueline Frost does NOT go back on a dare."

"Evidently."

Dite brought the costumes by earlier, by the way. They’re done and just about ready to go! We’ll need to try them on and make sure they fit well and all that jazz but then we’re good to go!”

“Weapons, too?”

Jacqueline grinned. “Yep! Actual, FUNCTIONING weapons! I was playing with Lim and Oros earlier, holy heck. If that’d been my loadout during the piracy? I’d have conquered the piratical world, Jack.”

“Well it’s a good thing it wasn’t! There’s be no living with you then, King of the Pirates.”

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

Halloween week rolled around and with it, the Legend-Legate Costume party.

Jacqueline stood in her room, all dressed up, admiring the freeze job on her left arm. The ice was thick enough to give her arm an almost ghostly look about it underneath; close enough to Melinoë’s ghostly prosthetic of sorts to work for her.

Grabbing Lim and Oros and taking a few practise swipes, she tumbled out of her room,

“JACK! You ready? We gotta GO!”

“Chill out, would you?”

Across the hall, Jack’s door opened. Out he walked, in his Zagreus costume—huge sword and all.

“AH! You actually DID IT!”

“Of course! You actually cut your hair, and I am a man of my word.”

“Woo! Yes Jack!” In her excitement, the sprite was hovering a bit, the north winds filling the halls. “We’re gonna kill it today! That trophy is as good as ours.” Landing, she swiped through the air with Oros.

“Yes, just one little detail we need to fix.”

“What?” Jacqueline landed. “What detail?”

“Eyes. Quite literally. I have a little spell that may work, but it won’t do eye colours we don’t have in our genes.”

“So instead of one red, one green, it’ll be one blue, one gold-ish?”

“Bingo. I thought we may be able to do the red what with our favourite uncle and all,” (Jacqueline snorted), “But wen I asked Dad, he told me that the only reason his eyes were that dark was because of all the negative magic and whatnot that he used. Something like that.”

“Really? I always thought they were identical except for the eyes and hair.”

“Nope! Same eye colour too!”

“Damn. I do NOT envy Gran.”

“Nor do I. Anyway, hold still, would you?”

“You remember which side is which, right?”

“How could I not? With how informative your presentation was and how you haven’t stopped talking about the game?” He sniffed. “Please.”

There was a pull of magic in the air. Jacqueline looked down at the ice on her arm—yep! Two-toned eyes.

“Ou, that’s banging.”

“Banging?”

“You know darn well what I meant to say. Let’s bounce so I can go swear.”

“And so we can win that trophy! The look on Santa’s face when we take it from him will make my Christmas. I won't even ask for anything else! Except for maybe a framed picture of the exact moment we're announced as the winners.”

“And if we don’t get it, we have WEAPONS. We can take it,” Jacqueline smirked rather devilishly, stabbing the air with the dagger. She spun on her bare foot and ran down the stairs, weapons trailing magically behind her.

🎃👻🍷🥳✨

It was Cupid and Dite who were hosting this year.

Their villa was done up, lights flashing, the smell of good food wafting down their way. Decorations were put up, and it looked like some of the other gods were hanging around as well.

They made their way into the atrium, the party in full swing as they looked for this year’s hosts.

“Jacqueline!”

“Dite!”

“Ou it looks so GOOD ON YOU!!”

“And look at YOU!?!?!? Are you NEMISIS?!”

Dite giggled, flaunting the armour and standing very tall. “Sure am, Princess.”

“Oh, I love it! Why Nem, though? She’s so rough and tough with Meli and you for SURE can’t do that with me, your cute and lovable girlfriend!” Tilting her head and smiling sweetly, she folded her hands under her chin, Lim and Oros in her grasp.

“Dad was inspired by you two and had this great idea—”

“I sure was! I'll take it from here, kiddo." Cupid finally appeared, floating towards them. "Hey! Jack! Ya made it! And Jacqueline, look at you two! Lookin’ good.”

“You have got to be joking me. Really Cupid? Really? THESEUS?”

Cupid laughed, doing a loop-de-loop on the way over. “Yeah! Did it with you in mind! I’ve played my fair share of Hades, so when Hedone told me you and Jacqueline were doing Zag and Mel, I thought, hey! You know who annoys the shit out of Zag? THESEUS! And so, ta-da!”

He floated back, arms outstretched, lights catching onto the costume.

“I can’t even be mad anymore, Cupes. I’m simply impressed.”

“Ha! That’s the spirit, Jack. Anyway, c’mon in! Mind the crowd. Some of the more laid back family members are here—and some of our Greek cousins, too. Dionysus and Bacchus are in the house. It’s gonna be a PARTY TONIGHT! HAHA!”

“I saved you some treats! C’mon!”

Dite pulled Jacqueline away, the sprite grinning up at her as they disappeared in the direction of the food. Jack smiled, watching them go, content.

“I gotta say, Jack. I’m surprised you agreed to this.”

Jack quirked an eyebrow as Cupid floated closer to him, at eye level with his fellow Legendary Figure.

“Oh?”

“Yeah! I never thought you’d go for something like this,” he gestured to Jack’s Zag outfit, “for a costume.”

“Jacqueline was very excited about. She insists it’ll knock Santa and Charlie right off their pedestal.”

“Oh, I think it will. You’ll never guess who they’re here as.”

“Mario and Luigi?”

“Nope.”

“Scooby and Shaggy?”

“Ha! That’d be funny to see. Nope! Wanna guess again?”

“Not particularly.”

“Buzz Lightyear and Woody. From Toy Story.”

Jack laughed. Out loud. “Really? THAT’S the costume they went with?!”

“Oh yeah! So ah, between you and me, Jack…” the god floated closer. “I think you and your sister got this.”

“You and Dite have a good shot too.”

“Ha! Are you kidding? We don’t enter that shit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Hedone gets a little too competitive so I ah, try to avoid competitions as much as possible. Seriously, it’s terrifying. You should see her playing board games. Risk? Monopoly? Yikes. She brings even the greatest strategists to tears. Minerva hasn’t been the same since the last board game night. It’s bad, Jack.”

“It’s funny you mention that. When Jacqueline gave me her presentation on the world of Hades—or at least, this iteration of it—” he gestured to himself. “She got very…intense when I asked why she was helping.”

“Yeah. You’d think love was enough, right? Nah. That coupled with beating someone at a competition? Yeesh. You’re lucky you made it out alive, let me tell ya.”

Jack snorted. “The night is still young and this sword is very, very real. Or so I’ve been told. It’s lighter than I expected.”

“I think Heph did that on purpose.”

“I’m not sure whether to be thankful or offended.”

“Eh, when it comes to these guys, it's usually a bit of column A, column B. Regardless, I think you guys have a good chance at winning tonight! Helps that I’m hosting too. We gods are a vain bunch. And I don’t think I could stop them from voting even if I tried.”

“Ou. Then I can tell Scott that I got the godly vote.”

“Ha! You’re gonna be insufferable all year! More so than usual.”

“Only if you’re Scott.”

“Is that why you agreed to the costume?”

“Cupid, please. You know damn well why I agreed to it.”

Cupid smiled. “I do, yeah. I just wanna hear you say it.”

Jack tried very hard to look annoyed but it did not work. He bit back his smile.

“Well, you know how it is. You do very silly things for the people you love.”

“Ha! There it is! You betchya!”

“And you know…there’s no big, huge, grand gesture I can do to make up for everything I did to her,” Jack continued, finding himself watching their Legates in the distance.

Jacqueline already had chocolate on her face, Dite fawning beside her as they helped themselves to some drinks, talking animatedly with Tinkerbell and Peter Pan—ah. Roy’s kids, Jack realized. Olivia and Myles. The pair of Legates were admiring Jacqueline's weapons while she shoved an entire cupcake into her mouth, Dite showing them how to wield the set.

Jack smiled softly. “And while there may not be some grand gesture I can make, there’s all sorts of little things I can do to make up for it all. And this is one of them.”

Cupid chuckled, clapping Jack’s back. “Attaboy! C’mon, let’s get you a drink.”

[mechieonu]

FROM THE START self-love and acceptance has been one of the major themes of the series and if ANYONE could benefit from that tigress is RIGHT THERE