#chaos reigns supreme here

[mandy-malady]

I love that while m*sk🐀 is making it to where you have to pay for a sub just to appear on the main feed on 🐤, tumblr has gone feral with allowing anyone to blaze any post.

this is truly the superior site

[absolute-hooligan]

One of my favorite things about posting here is that I will most likely never see my post again. And I don’t mean that in a popularity sense, I just mean that it’s out of my hands.

That fucker is gone with the wind now. I threw a random string of words into an incredibly cursed abandoned well. Then I wait for the words to be fired back at me (after I’ve long forgotten it, aka, an actual minute later) with far funnier tags.

I think that’s beautiful.

[libraryofolive]

time to dye

featuring: Takuma Ino x gn!reader

genre: Fluff, crack

word count: 1.1k

synopsis: Chaos reigns supreme as your golden retriever boyfriend helps you dye your hair

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

When your boyfriend Ino Takuma squeezed the first blob of dye directly onto your scalp, you couldn’t help but shriek at the cold goop hitting your sensitive skin.

“What are you doing?” You cried, keeping your head as still as possible as to not splatter dye across your white bathroom walls. You were dressed only in your cheapest oversized tee, one that already had more than a sprinkle of dye on it from previous attempts at colouring your hair, and panties, not trusting Ino to not accidentally get anything on any trousers you wore. You loved him, you really did, but when he asked you to help you colour your hair, you were… sceptical, to say the least.

“Trust me, babe! This is how I saw someone do it on TikTok!” He too was dressed in an old t shirt and a pair of boxers, heeding your warning about not getting anything on the clothes he actually liked wearing. The flimsy plastic gloves that came with the box dye adorned his hands, a dye brush in his hands as he started to spread the concoction over the top of your hair. His tongue stuck out his mouth slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration. You admired his concentrated face in your bathroom mirror, only to get pulled out of your admiration by his shoddy technique.

“Takuma, make sure you get it on every layer, not just the top of my head. As cute as the Narcissa Malfoy type of hair can be, it’s not what I’m going for right now.”

“I told you, just trust me! I’ve done my research, I swear.” He made eye contact with you through the mirror, grinning wildly. The fact that he had gone out of his way to look into how best to help you, and was so happy about it, made your heart flutter. This - much like your previous appreciation of your boyfriend - was cut short again, though, as you felt dye slowly seep its way onto his forehead.

“You’re getting it on my face, babe - its a good job I remembered to cover my forehead with Vaseline to avoid it staining my skin.” Your voice was full of mirth, lightly teasing your pseudo-hairdresser. Music wafted around the two of you as you settled into a comfortable silence, Ino too concentrated on your hair to keep up a conversation. You broke the silence occasionally to remind him of something or to tease his technique, but you were happy to be pampered by your eager boyfriend. You had to admit, this was a much nicer way to dye your hair than straining to reach the back of your head and praying you hadn’t missed a patch that you couldn’t see - especially when Takuma’s gloved hands started massaging your head.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna get it all over you.” You asked when his long fingers started to work themselves through your locks.

“Shh, baby, relax. I’m giving you a head massage - making sure I get dye into all the nooks and crannies. You’re gonna look so good, I know it.”

“Because of your expert hair dressing skills?”

“Well, yeah, but also cos it’s you, and you always look good.” His off-handed compliment had your face warming and your gaze straying from his in the mirror.

“Yeah, whatever.” You mumbled.

Eventually, all of the dye was used up, your boyfriend’s gloves discarded, and a timer set to let it marinade into your hair. The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor of your bathroom, now facing each other, knees touching.

“Can I wash it out for you? Like a proper salon?” Ino asked you.

“Really? You want to do that?”

“Well, I’m not half-a-job Bob. Gotta make sure my client is looked after and the dye washed out properly, duh. And to try and save your pillowcase and towels later.” He grinned at you, taking your hands in his and holding them up in the middle of the two of you. You hummed affirmatively as you studied his arms - he had slashes of colour running up his forearms from where they had accidentally caught some of your hair. He brought your hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

Washing the dye out of your hair was nothing but chaos - you kneeled, leant over your bathtub, the shower head that normally rests above it being pulled off its holder and used by Ino to rinse off your hair. He started off by rinsing off as much dye as he could without shampoo, but when it came to loading your hair up with the soap, he put the shower head down next to you in the bath. This caused the water still coming out of the showerhead to propel it onto its back, the water ending up spraying all over your walls and bathroom floor. You started screaming, unable to lift your head out of the tub for fear of making it worse with your dripping hair, and Ino had both hands covered in your expensive shampoo that he had been told not to waste under any circumstances.

“WHAT DO I DO?” He yelled, eyes wide as they took in the carnage he had accidentally created.

“GRAB IT, KUMA!”

“BUT YOUR SHAMPOO-”

“I CARE MORE ABOUT MY BATHROOM THAN MY SHAMPOO, YOU DIMWIT!”

Eventually, Ino grabbed the shower head, pointing the stream of water back into the bathtub. Warily, he handed you the the showerhead so that you could hold it steady whilst he lathered up your hair with soap. Why the two of you didn’t think about that in the first place, you had no idea. You decided to chalk it up to the fumes of the dye messing with your heads.

Eventually, the water being used to wash your hair ran clean, giving you the all clear to stop. You banished Ino to the living room as you dried and styled your hair, not letting him see his finished product until it was, well, finished. You adored him, you really did, but you didn’t trust enough to apply extreme heat to your hair just yet. Maybe one day, you had assured him, but when you looked at your sodden bathroom walls and floor, today was not that day.

You jumped into the living room, throwing your arms wide open and yelling “Surprise!” to catch your partner’s attention. His jaw dropped when he saw your hair - his work - and how well the colour suited you.

“Woah.” He walked towards you, running his hands through your freshly coloured and styled hair.

“You did a good job, babe.” You praised his work.

“Good job? Baby, my work is spectacular!” He said, a wide smile on his face and hearts in his eyes, admiring you, and praying that you’d let him help you next time, too.

[kaixserzz]

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me

Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.

While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).

Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?

No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).

Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.

In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.

All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.

That was before you came along, of course.

The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.

When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.

He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.

Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.

Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.

And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).

And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.

You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.

Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.

But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)

So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.

Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.

Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.

The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"

Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"

With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.

It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).

"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."

As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.

"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"

"Oh? Do you not like it?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"

Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.

You also love to hop onto people a lot."

"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"

"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.

"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.

"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.

Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.

Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"

And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."

Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.

"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"

He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"

"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.

"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"

At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.

He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.

Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.

"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.

"Hm? What is it?"

You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"

He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).

A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."

"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."

"What, like cheese?"

"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."

You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[spiderspinno]

No, no, that’s Dr. Evil. Dr. Who is the bad guy from the King Kong Show.

thoughts on doctor who?

Is that another Tumblr imaginary movie?

[reality-detective]

I did a post about this 👇 a little while back 🤔

Revolution Disclosed! The Military Occupation Launched by Trump’s Executive Orders and The Role of the Judge Advocate General: The Legal Backbone of Military Occupation

Disclose: the explosive truth behind Trump’s inauguration—a military occupation that began in 2017 and continues today. Dive deep into the secret power of the Judge Advocate General, military tribunals, and the war for America’s future. The old government is gone—it’s time to wake up!

January 20, 2017, marked not just a transition of power but the beginning of a military occupation. Trump took control of a nation under siege by forces unseen by the average American. This day should have sent shockwaves through the nation but was buried under layers of media manipulation and public ignorance. We are living in a new reality—one too many are blind to, and it’s time to open our eyes to the truth.

Picture this: Trump stands on the Capitol steps, flanked by a Military Intelligence Serviceman and a Judge Advocate General (JAG). This wasn’t a ceremonial show; it was a blatant signal that the military was in control. The Military Intelligence Serviceman represents the shadowy force that pulls the strings, while the JAG stands as the guardian of the new legal order, ready to enforce it with an iron fist.

When Trump declared, “This American carnage stops right here and stops right now,” it was more than rhetoric—it was a direct communication from the Armed Forces, announcing their intent to restore order. The days of political games were over; the military was stepping into the light to bring the nation back from chaos.

The JAG’s presence wasn’t just symbolic; it was a statement of intent. Under Trump, military tribunals would enforce a new order of governance, and those who dared to oppose it would find themselves at the mercy of a system designed to eliminate dissent.

Let’s be clear: the military occupation didn’t start on January 20, 2017; it began months earlier. Trump didn’t just inherit the presidency; he inherited the authority of a War Powers President, operating with the full backing of the military. The country has been under military occupation, while most remain oblivious to the truth.

Under Trump, 11 Emergency Executive Orders (EOs) were enacted, granting extraordinary powers to maintain order in a nation on the brink. The Biden administration, far from reversing these orders, has quietly extended them, ensuring the military’s grip on the nation remains strong.

The current administration is a puppet government, maintaining the illusion of democracy while real power lies with the military. The American people need to wake up; they are living under a military regime. The corporation that once governed this nation has been dissolved, and those who once held power have been brought to justice.

It’s time to stop living in denial. The military is in control, and the sooner Americans accept this, the better equipped they’ll be for the challenges ahead. The media has lied; the government you thought you knew is gone. The future belongs to those willing to see the world as it is, and in this new world, the military reigns supreme. 🤔

[michaelsfavgirl]

first kiss

Pairing: Captain EO x fem!reader

Synopsis: You confess to EO that you've never kissed anyone before. Rather than judging, he guides you through your first kiss with care and tenderness.

Tags: fluff, smooching

Word Count: 1.7k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Wanted this to be a short drabble at first but I'm incapable of writing blurbs so here we are

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The control room of the spaceship buzzes with anticipation as you step inside, greeted by a chorus of voices rising and falling in excited chatter. Your crewmates, a diverse bunch of characters with their own quirks and specialties, are huddled together, discussing their plans for the upcoming mission to confront the evil Supreme Leader.

Their voices bounce off the metallic walls, creating a cacophony of sound that threatens to overwhelm your senses. You raise your voice above the din, attempting to restore order amidst the chaos.

"Alright, everyone, settle down!" you call out, your words slicing through the chatter like a knife. "We need to focus and come up with a solid plan. But keep it down! We don't want Captain EO catching wind of our scheming."

The crew falls into a tense silence at your command, exchanging nervous glances as they remember the consequences of attracting Captain EO's attention. He may be understanding, but when it comes to maintaining discipline aboard his ship, he doesn't tolerate any nonsense.

"But we can't afford to underestimate the Supreme Leader's forces," Fuzzball interjects, his voice tinged with urgency. "We need to be prepared for anything."

Pilot Geek nods in agreement, his expression serious. "Our weapons need to be primed and ready, and our defenses must be impenetrable. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

You nod in solemn agreement, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "We're not just here to engage in battle," you remind them. "Our mission is to liberate the oppressed people of this planet and bring an end to the Supreme Leader's reign of terror."

The crew murmurs their assent, their determination shining through despite the palpable tension in the room. They know the risks involved, but they're willing to face them head-on in the name of justice.

"We also need to gather intel on the enemy's defenses," you add, your mind already racing with strategic possibilities. "We can't make a move until we know exactly what we're up against."

As the crew delves into discussion, you can't help but feel a swell of pride in their resilience and camaraderie. Despite their differences, they're united in their resolve to make a difference in the galaxy. But just as the planning session gains momentum, the door slides open, and Captain EO strides into the room, his presence commanding attention.

You exchange a quick glance with him, noting the subtle softening of his gaze before he turns his focus to the crew.

"What's all the commotion about?" Captain EO's voice pierces through the chaotic buzz of the control room, his tone calm yet commanding.

The crew members exchange nervous glances, their voices trailing off into an uneasy silence. Sensing the tension, you step forward, taking on the role of mediator, though you can't bring yourself to meet Captain EO's gaze directly. "We were just discussing our strategy for when we reach the planet, Captain," you explain, your words careful and measured. "We want to ensure we're fully prepared for whatever may come our way."

Captain EO nods in understanding, his expression inscrutable. "Good," he replies, his tone carrying a hint of gravity. "But we must proceed with caution. We cannot afford to disappoint Commander Bog again." The crew members nod in solemn agreement, their resolve strengthened by their leader's words.

Before you can say anything further, Captain EO interjects, his voice taking on a decisive tone. "Excuse us, please," he commands, his hand reaching out to gently grasp yours as he guides you out of the bustling control room. The crew members exchange knowing looks, their smiles evident as they return to their tasks, their previous conversation momentarily forgotten in the wake of Captain EO's presence.

As the two of you walk in silence down the corridor, you can feel the warmth of his hand enveloping yours, sending a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins. With each step, the anticipation builds, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally reaching his private office, he locks the door behind you, ensuring your privacy from any potential interruptions. The room is bathed in a soft, ambient light, casting shadows that dance across the walls and adding to the intimate atmosphere.

Alone together, EO's stoic demeanor begins to soften, replaced by a warmth and longing that reflects in his eyes as he tenderly cups your face. His forehead pressed against yours, a silent reassurance of his presence and protection. In his embrace, you feel yourself relax, the tension of the day melting away.

"Rough day?" he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil of your thoughts.

You nod wearily, leaning into him as he draws comforting circles on your back. His chuckle is soft and melodic, a sound that brings a sense of peace to your troubled mind. "It's alright," he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "You're safe here with me." And in that moment, surrounded by his warmth and reassurance, you allow yourself to exhale, surrendering to the solace he offers.

As you pull away from each other, the air between you crackles with an unspoken tension. His gaze lingers on your eyes, a silent inquiry dancing in their depths, searching for something he can't quite name. There's a moment of hesitation, a wordless exchange passing between you, before his attention drifts down to your lips. Your heart quickens at the intensity of his gaze, a flutter of anticipation coursing through your veins. Instinctively, you turn your head to the side, breaking the connection before it can deepen.

Concern flashes across his features as he registers your sudden withdrawal. "What's wrong?" he asks softly, his voice tinged with worry. "Did I do something to upset you?" It's a question that's been weighing on his mind for some time now, as he's noticed your tendency to retreat whenever things start to become more intimate.

You sigh, feeling a pang of guilt at causing him any distress. Before you can fully disengage from his embrace, he tightens his arms around you, refusing to let you slip away. "Please, sweetheart, tell me," he coaxes, his tone gentle and reassuring.

You hesitate, unsure of how to articulate the swirling thoughts in your mind. Finally, you gather the courage to admit, "I've never kissed anyone before."

A small smile tugs at EO's lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement at your confession. He chuckles softly, finding humor in your nervousness. "Is that all?" he teases, his tone light and affectionate.

You pout playfully and nudge his chest, a mix of embarrassment and indignation bubbling within you. "It's not funny," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

His smile softens, and he reaches out to tenderly stroke your cheek. "I'm sorry," he apologizes sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

You lean into his touch, the warmth of his hand soothing against your skin. "It's okay," you reply softly, meeting his gaze. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing."

His expression is filled with understanding. "That's alright," he reassures you, his voice gentle. "I can show you."

A surge of warmth floods your chest at his offer, a fluttering sensation dancing in your stomach. "Really?" you whisper, barely able to contain your excitement.

He nods, a tender smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he replies, his eyes brimming with sincerity. Your heart races at his words, the promise of his guidance filling you with a sense of anticipation and newfound trust in him.

EO's touch is like a gentle breeze, calming your nerves and soothing your racing heart as he cups your face once more. His thumb strokes your cheek softly, a comforting gesture that sends warmth spreading through you like sunshine on a cool morning. "Okay, sweetheart," he says softly, his voice a melodic whisper. "We're going to start with something simple, just quick little pecks, nothing too crazy. I don't want to overwhelm you."

Gratitude floods your chest at his patient and understanding words, and you nod in response, feeling a rush of affection for him. As he continues to explain, your attention wavers, captivated by the rhythmic movement of his lips as he speaks. Your gaze fixates on his mouth, hungry and curious, as you imagine the sensation of kissing him.

A soft chuckle interrupts your reverie, and you blink, realizing you've been lost in your thoughts. "Sorry," you mumble sheepishly, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"It's alright," he reassures you with a warm smile that lights up his eyes. "Let's try this again, shall we?" You nod eagerly, determined to focus this time. Closing your eyes as he instructs, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling nerves.

You feel his breath brushing against your lips as he moves closer, and then his lips meet yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It's a simple press of lips, fleeting yet filled with tenderness and warmth. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as the kiss sends a delightful shiver down your spine. You tremble slightly in his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions coursing through you like a river in full flood.

Sensing your nervousness, EO pulls away slightly, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs soothingly, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "You did so well, sweetheart." You lean into his embrace, finding solace in his reassuring presence. His arms around you feel like a fortress, offering protection from the uncertainties of the universe.

"Thank you," you whisper softly, feeling a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. "For everything."

He smiles warmly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Anytime," he replies softly, his voice filled with unwavering devotion and affection. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

In that moment, cradled in EO's embrace, you feel a sense of peace wash over you like a gentle tide. With him by your side, you know you can weather any storm that comes your way. And as you rest your head against his chest, you realize that you've found something truly special in him—a love that transcends space and time.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

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[ch3rrybite]

bonjour ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ♥️

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[joyfulcowboycandy]

Rules are meant to be broken

Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: implied abuse, angst

gender neutral Y/n

Riddle Rosehearts was no stranger to frustration. As the dorm leader of Heartslabyul, it was his duty to maintain order and ensure that every rule was followed to the letter. But there were days when it felt like the world was conspiring against him—days when no matter how often he repeated himself, no one seemed to listen. Today was one of those days.

 

He sighed, stepping into the quiet garden that lay just beyond the dorm. It was one of the few places where he could find peace amidst the chaos. The roses, neatly trimmed and blooming in vivid reds and whites, were a small comfort to his overwhelmed mind. Here, at least, everything was as it should be.

 

Or so he thought.

 

 

“Wow, this place really is something else,” came a voice from somewhere above him.

 

Riddle jumped, startled, his hand instinctively going to the magic pen tucked into his jacket. He scanned the garden quickly, looking for the source of the voice, his brows furrowing when he couldn’t spot anyone.

 

“Up here, red boy.”

 

He snapped his gaze upwards, only to find someone lounging in one of the tree branches, swinging their legs idly. Their uniform was different—nothing like the ones worn by students of Night Raven College or even those from Royal Sword Academy. The stranger grinned down at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

 

“What are you doing up there? Who are you?!” Riddle demanded, straightening up, his posture stiff with authority. “And how did you even get in here?”

The stranger didn’t answer immediately, instead shifting to hang upside down from the branch, their hair falling towards the ground as they giggled softly. “Is that really the first thing you want to know? Not a hello? Not a ‘how are you’? You’ve got strange priorities, don’t you?”

Riddle’s face reddened in frustration. “This is serious! You’re trespassing—do you even know what kind of trouble you’re in?”

They finally flipped back up, sitting properly on the branch again. “Hmm… trouble, huh? I guess I’ve been in trouble before. But it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

His grip tightened around his magic pen. This person was toying with him. “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have no choice but to report you to the Headmaster. I’ll even use my magic if necessary.”

 

“Ooooh, magic,” they teased, their voice lilting playfully. “Scary~.”

 

Riddle’s face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. How dare they not take him seriously? He was about to give another stern warning when they interrupted with a giggle.

 

“You’ll what? Turn me into stone? Or maybe a hedgehog, like in that one game? You’re really cute when you get all worked up, you know that?”

His face burned, this time from anger. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. “I’m warning you—”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go,” they said, raising their hands in mock surrender. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back. It’s way too fun teasing you, rule boy.”

 

Without another word, they slipped from the tree, landing gracefully on their feet before darting off towards the outer edges of the garden. Riddle stood there for a long moment, his heart racing with frustration and confusion. Who were they? And how did they manage to get into the academy without anyone noticing?

 

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the encounter. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter now. He had more important things to worry about than some random troublemaker. Still, their words—so irritating, so audacious—clung to his mind as he returned to his duties, irritation bubbling up again as he replayed the scene.

 

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

 

Days have passed since Riddle’s encounter with the strange person, and he’s finally been able to find a peace of mind in the Heartslabyul gardens.With its meticulously pruned roses and the perfect symmetry of the hedges, it was one of the few places where order and calm reigned supreme. For someone like Riddle, who lived by the rules, this place was a sanctuary—a world he could control.

 

Until now.

“Man! Isn’t it just gorgeous here?” A voice drifted down from above, interrupting his moment of peace.

 

Riddle frowned, searching for the source of the voice, already knowing who it was. When he glanced up, there they were, hovering several feet off the ground like a floating menace, arms crossed lazily as they looked around the garden in wonder.

“I mean, look at this place! It's so neat, so... perfect.” They gazed down at the rows of roses, smiling. “Totally different from everywhere else I’ve been. No chaos, no mess. It's kinda pretty, don't you think?”

 

Riddle’s eyebrow twitched. Pretty? He wasn’t here for idle chit-chat about the aesthetic of the garden. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice tight with authority as he folded his arms. “You’re trespassing—again.”

They waved him off, paying little attention to the tension in his voice. “Come on, rule boy, take a break. Enjoy the view! Seriously, you must have worked really hard to keep all this in order, huh?”

Riddle’s patience was rapidly wearing thin. He straightened up, puffing out his chest as he glared up at them. “That’s not the point. You shouldn’t be here, and you definitely shouldn’t be using magic in the middle of the garden! This is Night Raven College, not some playground for—"

“Shhhh.” They waved a hand dismissively, floating a little higher as they continued to gaze down at the pristine flowers. “You’re so serious. Why not enjoy what you’ve got? Most people aren’t blessed with all this fortune, y’know.”

“This isn’t a game!” Riddle snapped, his face growing redder by the second. “Do you even care about the rules? You’ve already broken several just by being here!”

They turned their head lazily toward him, then floated down slightly, just enough to hover at eye level with him. “Why would I care about rules when I’ve got wings?” they teased, giving a playful little flap of their arms. “Besides, your garden’s way too pretty for me to just stay away.”

 

Riddle let out a sharp breath, trying to steady his temper. “It’s not my garden. It belongs to Heartslabyul, and we have rules for a reason. You can’t just do as you please—”

 

“Can’t I?” They tilted their head, a playful smirk dancing on their lips. “You keep telling me what I can’t do, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”

 

“You’re testing my patience,” he warned, his fingers tightening around the handle of his magic pen. “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have no choice but to use my Magic on you. It’ll be Off with your head.”

 

“Ooooh, big scary magic.” They grinned, clearly not intimidated. “The whole ‘off with your head’ thing? Sounds kinda dramatic, don’t you think?”

 

His eyes flashed with anger, his frustration boiling over. “It’s not something to joke about! You’re violating the rules, and if you keep this up—”

 

“You’ll what?” They interrupted, their voice lilting with faux curiosity. “Turn me into a teapot? Shrink me down? Come on, give me something fun!”

 

Riddle’s face flushed with irritation. No one had ever spoken to him with such blatant disrespect. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say another word, they floated just a little higher, now hovering above him by a few inches, the gap making them taller than him. They gave him a teasing grin. “See? I’ve got the high ground now, rule boy. What are you gonna do?”

 

Riddle glared, his fingers twitching in his frustration. “Enough of this! You’re breaking so many rules that I could—"

 

“Off with my head, right?” They laughed, playfully flipping upside down in mid-air, dangling there with their hair falling toward the ground. “I’d love to see you try.”

 

It was too much. Riddle raised his pen, ready to summon his magic, his face hot with fury. “If you don’t leave this instant—”

 

But before he could finish, they darted away with a swift, mischievous laugh, their voice echoing through the garden as they zipped past him. “See you around, rule boy!” they called over their shoulder, giggling as they disappeared behind the hedges.

Riddle stood there, his magic uncast, eyes narrowed in disbelief. He’d been so close to using it—so close to giving them exactly what they deserved—but once again, they’d slipped away. His frustration burned hotter than ever, and he cursed under his breath, lowering his pen in defeat.

It was only then, as the wind settled and his thoughts cleared, that he recalled something odd. Just as they had flown past, the wind had lifted their sleeves, revealing something on their arms—dark, scattered marks. Bruises?

For a brief moment, a flicker of concern crossed his mind. Had they been hurt? He hadn’t noticed them before. Could it have been from something else? Maybe they were just a clumsy individual.

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it vanished. There was no time to worry about such things. They were a rulebreaker, a constant disturbance. Whatever trouble they were in wasn’t his concern—not right now. Besides, they clearly enjoyed their antics far too much to be bothered by something as trivial as that.

What a weird individual...

 

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

Riddle was having a particularly exhausting day. Between lecturing unruly first-years and preparing for the next dorm meeting, his patience was wearing thin. He decided to take a brief walk through the gardens—hoping, perhaps foolishly, for some quiet.

 

Of course, his peace didn’t last...

 

 

“Riddle! There’s someone flying again!”

 

 

Ace’s voice broke through the air, and before Riddle could respond, Deuce chimed in. “It’s that person! The one you keep yelling at!”

Riddle’s eyes narrowed as his gaze shot up to the sky, and there they were—That person, soaring lazily through the air, like always, ignoring all rules of decency. They weren’t even trying to be subtle about it, gliding in circles above the garden, hovering just out of reach as if daring him to say something.

“Great Seven…” Riddle groaned, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment creeping up his neck as Ace and Deuce snickered behind him. “Do they ever not fly?”

Ace smirked, elbowing Deuce. “You’d think they were here just to mess with Riddle, huh?”

Riddle spun around to face them, his face as red as his hair. “Quiet, both of you! Do not make this a spectacle.”

 

But they were already descending from the sky, making a slow, dramatic landing in front of him. They hovered just above the ground, not quite touching it, as if they enjoyed the idea of floating higher than him—yet again.

“Well, well, look who it is!” Their teasing grin widened as they spotted the other two, obviously amused. “I see you brought your little entourage today.”

 

Deuce blinked, clearly confused. “Are they a student?”

“Hardly,” Riddle muttered under his breath. “They’re a nuisance .”

Ace tilted his head, watching them float lazily around. “They don’t look like they’re from here. How are they even doing that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Riddle said tersely, his grip tightening on his magic pen. “What matters is that they’re breaking the rules. Again.”

They laughed, circling closer to him. “Oh, come on. You’re not really going to make a big deal out of this, are you? I’m just enjoying the view! The garden looks so much prettier from up here.”

Riddle’s patience snapped. He refused to be made a fool of in front of his underclassmen—especially not by this persistent troublemaker. Without waiting for any more taunts, he lifted his magic pen and muttered the incantation.

 

“Off with your head!”

 

 

Their eyes widened, but they were too slow to react. In an instant, Riddle’s magic took hold, making them fall down from their hovering position and a chain materialized around their neck. They fell with a thud, landing face-first on the grass and dirt.

Ace and Deuce both winced at the impact.

“Oof, that looked like it hurt,” Ace whispered.

Riddle, still fuming, quickly approached them, who was groaning as they tried to push themselves up. But before they could, Riddle pressed a knee firmly against their back, holding them down with ease.

 

“Ah! Let me go!” They cried out, slapping their hands against the ground in frustration.

 

Riddle ignored their complaints, his eyes sharp with authority. “You’ve been warned enough times. This is what happens when you break the rules.”

He heard a soft gasp from behind him—either Ace or Deuce, he wasn’t sure—but it wasn’t until he looked down that he understood why. Their sleeves had shifted, exposing dark bruises along their arms and legs. They hadn’t been this visible before, but now, with their uniform crumpled and the light catching on their skin, it was impossible to ignore.

For a moment, Riddle hesitated. The sight of the bruises startled him, his mind stumbling over itself as he tried to process what he was seeing.

 

“What…?” he mumbled, releasing his magic in surprise.

 

They wasted no time. The second his grip loosened, they wriggled out from under him and jumped to their feet, brushing dirt from their clothes and scowling. “Well, that was rude.”

Ace and Deuce exchanged confused glances, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation.

“They’re so small,” Deuce commented under his breath. “I thought they were taller?”

“It’s because they’re always flying,” Ace whispered back, scratching his head.

Riddle’s heart was pounding, but he quickly straightened himself, regaining his composure. He pointed at them, his voice colder than before. “You are never to return here. Do you understand? And you—” he turned to Ace and Deuce, fixing them with a stern glare, “are to say nothing about this. To anyone.”

Ace raised his hands defensively. “Hey, no problem. Your secret’s safe with us.”

Deuce nodded, though he still looked somewhat bewildered. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

They grinned, their teasing demeanor returning just as quickly as it had vanished. They dusted themselves off, unfazed by the attention or the fall. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell either.” They shot Riddle a cheeky smile. “After all, it wouldn’t be fun if the whole school knew about this .”

Riddle flushed again, both from anger and embarrassment. “Just leave already.”

With a final mocking salute, they spun on their heels and disappeared into the maze of hedges, their laughter trailing behind them like an echo in the garden.

 

Ace blinked. “So, uh… who exactly was that?”

Riddle straightened his uniform, avoiding their questioning looks. “No one. And don’t mention this to anyone. Not a word.”

Ace snickered. “Man, you really know how to pick your enemies, huh?”

Riddle didn’t respond. His mind was too preoccupied with what he had seen—the bruises. For a fleeting moment, concern had gripped him, but now, with them gone, it seemed almost insignificant again.

 

They were just bruises. They were probably fine. They always seemed fine.

 

He brushed it off as he began walking back toward the dorm, Ace and Deuce following behind him with hushed whispers.

 

But a small part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—he had missed something important.

 

 

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

 

Weeks passed since their last encounter, and Riddle wasn’t expecting to see them again. After he had finally subdued them in front of Ace and Deuce, surely they would think twice about showing up in Heartslabyul. But just as he started to believe he had seen the last of their antics, they returned—completely unannounced.

 

 

And of course, they made their entrance in the most obnoxious way possible.

 

 

Riddle had been sitting under the shade of the Heartslabyul garden’s rose bushes, taking a rare moment of respite from his duties. The afternoon was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the occasional flutter of wings from the garden’s creatures.

 

That is, until a sudden voice screeched right next to his ear.

 

“Boo!”

 

Riddle yelped in surprise, nearly leaping out of his seat as his heart pounded in his chest. “Great Seven!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest as he spun around to see them floating mid-air behind him, a mischievous grin plastered across their face.

 

They burst into laughter, doubling over while still hovering in the air. “Oh my—! I didn’t think you’d actually scream! That was priceless!” They wiped a tear from their eye as their laughter continued to echo through the garden.

 

Riddle’s face burned, both from the shock and from the embarrassment. He straightened up, fixing them with his best glare. “Do you find it amusing to terrorize me every time you show up?”

 

“Well, it is pretty entertaining!” They replied, still floating just above him. But as they shifted, Riddle noticed something he hadn’t seen before—a dark bruise marring their cheek, barely hidden by a lock of hair.

 

Riddle’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight. His previous annoyance ebbed, replaced by an uncomfortable concern. He glanced down and saw the same bruises along their legs, peeking out from the hem of their uniform as the wind tugged at the fabric.

 

He tried to keep his voice steady. “What happened to your face?”

 

They blinked, as if surprised by the question, but then they grinned again, lazily flipping over in the air until they were lying on their stomach, floating parallel to the ground. They rested their chin on their hands, staring at him with that same playful expression.

 

“Oh, this?” they said, pointing vaguely to their cheek. “Nothing worth mentioning. Just part of the fun.”

 

“That’s not an answer,” Riddle said, irritation creeping back into his voice. “You’re avoiding the question.”

 

They simply smirked. “I’m not avoiding anything. I’m just giving you the answer I want to give. Besides, it’s not like it’s your business.”

 

Riddle clenched his teeth, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You can’t just keep showing up here, breaking the rules whenever you please. I’ve warned you before—this isn’t your playground.”

 

“And yet,” they said, flipping upside down so that they were staring at him from a completely inverted position, “I keep coming back.”

 

Their teasing tone grated on his nerves, but there was something else about the way they looked at him—something that made Riddle pause. He noticed how their playful smile faltered ever so slightly when they flipped upside down, their eyes locking with his. For a moment, they seemed less mischievous and more… tired.

 

But before he could say anything, they let out a small sigh, their arms dangling loosely as they floated closer to him, still upside down.

 

“I’m skipping school,” they said, finally answering his question in a completely nonchalant tone. “This place is more fun than there anyway.”

 

 

Riddle’s frown deepened. “You’re skipping school to come here? You can’t just—”

 

 

His words stopped short as their hand floated close to his face, almost brushing against his cheek. On instinct, Riddle reached out and caught their wrist, pulling their sleeve up slightly. What he saw underneath made him freeze.

Bruises. More than before. Dark, angry patches of discoloration, scattered across their forearm.

Their expression didn’t change as they floated there, upside down, watching him quietly. They didn’t pull away, didn’t laugh—just stared at him with an unreadable look on their face.

 

Riddle’s grip on their wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely. “You… you need to stop this,” he muttered, his voice softer than before. “You can’t keep running around causing trouble. If there’s something wrong, you need to—”

They interrupted him with a quiet giggle, their usual teasing smirk returning. “What are you, my caretaker now?”

“I’m being serious,” Riddle snapped, though his heart wasn’t in it. He let go of their wrist, watching as they hovered back slightly, floating just a few centimeters above the ground. “You’re breaking the rules here. You’re probably breaking the rules at your own school too. If you want to come here, ask for permission, like a normal person.”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?” They replied, their voice lilting playfully. “Besides, it’s way more entertaining to see you all flustered like this. You’re cute when you’re mad.”

 

Riddle’s face flushed at the comment, his composure slipping for just a moment. “I—That’s irrelevant!”

 

They giggled again, clearly enjoying his reaction. “See? This is why I keep coming back.”

 

Riddle huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re impossible.”

 

“Thank you,” they said with a wink.

 

There was a brief silence between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the wind. Riddle stared at them, their bruises still fresh in his mind, but they didn’t seem bothered by them. If anything, they acted as if nothing was wrong at all.

 

Finally, they sighed dramatically and floated backward, as if preparing to leave. “Well, I suppose I’ve bothered you enough for one day.”

Riddle hesitated, a strange feeling settling in his chest as they started to drift away. He wanted to say something—ask them why they kept coming back, why they looked the way they did—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, he simply watched as they floated off, their teasing laughter echoing behind them.

“You’re such a troublemaker,” Riddle muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of worry as they disappeared into the distance.

 

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

Riddle wasn’t quite sure why he was waiting.

 

He knew, logically, that they were unpredictable. They showed up when they felt like it, played their games, and disappeared just as quickly. Weeks had passed again since their last encounter, and yet… a part of him couldn’t help but keep an eye on the skies, half-expecting their mischievous form to appear at any moment.

 

And, just as he’d predicted—though he would never admit to anticipating it—they returned.

 

This time, they appeared more quietly, their arrival marked only by the soft flapping of their clothes as they hovered into view. They didn’t scare him this time, no teasing “boo” or sudden surprises. Instead, they simply floated over to where he was standing in the garden, a lazy smile on their face.

 

“Miss me?” they teased, as they hovered slightly above him, legs crossed in midair.

 

Riddle, despite himself, felt a tiny smile tug at the corner of his lips. “I wasn’t expecting you, if that’s what you mean.”

 

“Liar,” They said, their grin widening. “I could see you glancing up at the sky earlier. It’s like you knew I’d be here.”

 

“I most certainly did not—” Riddle stopped himself, realizing that arguing was exactly what they wanted. Instead, he exhaled slowly, opting for a more measured tone. “What do you want this time?”

 

They hovered a little lower, their face now level with his, though they were still floating just above the ground. “Hmm, what do I want? Good question. Maybe I’m just here to enjoy your company.”

 

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy my company? Since when?”

 

“Oh, don’t act so surprised!” They said, letting out a playful laugh. “You’re fun when you’re all worked up, but you’re not half-bad when you’re calm, either.”

 

Riddle fought the urge to roll his eyes, though their words did make his heart stir slightly. For once, there wasn’t the immediate surge of irritation he usually felt when they teased him. Maybe it was because, despite their playful tone, something about their presence felt a little… softer today.

 

They drifted lazily through the air, landing on the edge of a nearby fountain and dipping their fingers into the water. Their expression was more relaxed than usual, and Riddle noticed a faint smile that didn’t feel entirely mischievous.

“I like this place,” They murmured, breaking the comfortable silence. “It’s so different from everywhere else. Everything’s so... proper. Kind of weird, but pretty in its own way.”

Riddle, still standing by the garden’s entrance, glanced around at his meticulously pruned roses and the neatly trimmed hedges. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. “Heartslabyul follows strict rules to maintain its order. It’s why things are the way they are.”

They chuckled, flicking water from the fountain playfully in his direction. “Yeah, yeah, the rules and all that. You’ve told me a million times.”

“Perhaps you should start following some of them, then,” Riddle said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone this time.

They shrugged, swinging their legs casually as they sat on the fountain’s edge. “Nah. Breaking rules is half the fun of life. You should try it sometime.”

 

Riddle gave them a pointed look. “I’m the housewarden. I enforce the rules. Breaking them would be... hypocritical.”

 

They leaned forward, resting their chin in their hands and grinning up at him. “That’s exactly why it’d be fun. Imagine how shocked everyone would be if you did something unexpected for once.”

 

“I’m not here to entertain the masses,” Riddle replied, though he couldn’t help but be amused by the thought. He folded his arms, watching as they splashed the water idly. For the first time, they weren’t just teasing him to get a rise out of him. There was a lightness to their presence, something that felt... different.

 

 

 

“You don’t always have to be so serious, you know,” they said after a moment, their voice softening. “Sometimes you can just... let go.”

 

 

 

Riddle frowned slightly, but before he could respond, they turned to face him fully, standing up from the fountain and floating back into the air just above him.

 

 

Their teasing grin returned, though it didn’t have the sharp edge it usually did. “So, Housewarden Rosehearts... when’s the last time you broke a rule?”

 

 

Riddle blinked. “What?”

 

 

“You heard me,” they said, crossing their arms as they hovered just a little higher, enough to be eye-level with him. “When’s the last time you did something that wasn’t in some rulebook?”

 

“That’s an absurd question,” Riddle said, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “I follow the rules for a reason.”

 

They hummed, looking unimpressed. “Well, maybe you should try not following them. Just for once.”

 

Before he could respond, they leaned in closer, their teasing grin returning. “Or are you afraid you’ll like it too much?”

 

 

Riddle’s face flushed, caught off-guard by their sudden proximity. “I—I don’t have time for such nonsense.”

 

 

“Uh-huh. Sure you don’t,” They said, clearly enjoying his reaction. But something about the way they were teasing him this time felt different—lighter, almost. As if, for once, they weren’t just trying to get a rise out of him but were actually having fun.

 

For the first time, Riddle didn’t feel entirely on edge around them. There was still that flicker of irritation, yes, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It didn’t overshadow the strange sense of ease that settled between them as they bantered back and forth.

 

“You know, for someone who’s always scolding me, you’re not so bad,” they said, their voice softer now. “You should smile more. It suits you.”

 

Riddle’s breath caught in his throat for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to respond, especially with the way they were looking at him—genuine, for once, without the usual sharpness in their gaze. It wasn’t often that they weren’t mocking him, and Riddle found himself... liking it.

 

Before he could think of something to say, they floated backward, spinning in the air and flashing him a playful grin. “But I should get going before you lecture me again.”

 

Riddle opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come. He watched as they drifted up into the air, their laughter echoing softly as they waved him goodbye.

 

“See you around, Housewarden,” they called out, their voice teasing but not mocking.

 

Riddle stood there, watching them disappear into the distance, a strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. He hadn’t yelled at them. They hadn’t frustrated him like usual. Instead... they’d talked. Almost normally.

 

And for the first time in a long while, their departure left him with a small, reluctant smile on his face.

 

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

 

The garden felt strangely empty without them.

 

Riddle paced the familiar path, glancing at the pruned hedges and blooming flowers as if they could somehow summon their playful spirit back. He hadn’t seen them in weeks, and he found himself missing their teasing remarks and carefree laughter more than he cared to admit.

 

 

Then, as if the universe had listened to his silent yearning, he heard the soft fluttering of fabric against the wind. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat.

 

 

 

There they were.

 

 

 

But this time, they wasn’t floating above him with that familiar, mischievous grin. Instead, they stood firmly on the ground, their posture relaxed but somehow lacking the usual exuberance. Riddle felt his heart drop at the sight.

 

 

 

“Riddle!” they greeted, their voice bright, but he caught the slight tremor in it.

 

 

“You…” He found himself stepping closer, frowning at the sight before him. Their cheeks were paler than usual, and their clothes were slightly rumpled. But what made his heart sink were the bruises peeking from beneath their sleeves and the dark marks along their legs.

 

 

“Why are you standing on the ground?” Riddle asked, a teasing edge in his voice to mask the concern brewing within him. “You’re usually floating above me, making yourself taller.”

 

Their eyes widened, clearly taken aback. “What? You noticed?” Their surprise quickly shifted to a grin, as if they were delighted by his observation. “Wow, look at you! Switching things up, huh?”

 

Riddle felt the corners of his mouth twitch up, almost despite himself. “It’s not exactly a common occurrence. I thought you enjoyed being taller than me.”

 

They laughed softly, sitting down on the grass, the joy of their earlier antics dimming slightly. “Maybe I just like the challenge of getting you riled up,” they admitted, but their voice held a hint of something deeper, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen before.

 

As they sat together, the atmosphere shifted. Riddle felt a strange warmth growing in his chest, a sense of appreciation for their presence. He had grown fond of them—of their spirit, their laughter, and the way they lit up the dullest of moments.

 

“I missed you,” he said, surprising even himself. The admission hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.

 

“Really?” They said, their expression softening. “I missed you too, Riddle.”

 

An awkward silence settled between them, the usual banter replaced by a shared understanding that felt almost intimate. they leaned back, gazing at the sky above. “So, what’s been going on in your world? Still following all those boring rules?”

 

“Of course,” Riddle replied, though his tone lacked the usual annoyance. “Someone has to keep this place in order.”

 

“Boring, boring, boring!” they teased, rolling their eyes dramatically. “You really need to loosen up, Riddle! How about we have a little fun instead?”

 

“Fun?” he echoed. “I can’t just abandon my responsibilities..."

 

“Responsibilities, shmesponsibilities!” They waved a hand dismissively. “Life is too short for that. You should come flying with me! It’s so freeing!”

 

Riddle crossed his arms, suppressing a smile. “You make it sound tempting, but I’d prefer not to plummet to my death, thank you very much.”

 

“Aw, come on! You’d be fine. I’d catch you,” they said, leaning forward, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “Plus, I’m sure your ‘housewarden’ reputation would survive a little adventure.”

 

“Housewarden?” He raised an eyebrow, the nickname surprisingly pleasant. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

 

“Why would you need my name? I’m just the ‘troublemaker’ that keeps you on your toes,” they said, shrugging playfully.

 

“Come on, at least tell me,” Riddle urged, leaning closer. “It’s only fair since I told you mine.”

 

They laughed, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “You want to know my name, Housewarden? You’re going to have to work for it!”

 

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

 

“So, what are you going to do about it?” they challenged, leaning back on their hands with a grin. “It’s not like you can give me a detention or something.”

 

“Maybe I’ll just have to think of something creative to make you tell me,” he replied, his mind racing to find an answer that wouldn’t give away his flustered feelings.

 

 

 

 “I wanted to show you something.” They sat up, an excited gleam in their eyes. “Do you want to see my wings?”

 

 

 

“Wings?” Riddle echoed, his curiosity piqued. “You have wings?”

 

They nodded enthusiastically, a flicker of their usual mischief returning. They shifted around to face him, their back to Riddle. Slowly, they pulled back the fabric of their shirt, revealing a small, clipped wings protruding from their shoulder. It was delicate and fragile, a remnant of what once had been.

 

Riddle’s breath caught in his throat. “They’re beautiful,” he said, though a pang of sadness twisted in his chest. “But… why are they so small?”

 

“They were clipped a long time ago,” they said, their tone light but with a hint of sadness lurking beneath the surface. “It’s all that’s left of me.”

He reached out, gently poking the tiny wings. It twitched under his touch, and they giggled, the sound bringing warmth to the chilly evening. “Hey! That tickles! And... It doesn’t really work anymore,” they said, a flicker of sadness passing through their eyes. “But it’s still mine.”

 

“You should take care of them,” Riddle said, his voice more serious now. “You deserve to have wings that can carry you.”

 

The fairy smiled at him, a genuine smile that lit up their face. “I appreciate that, Riddle. But for now, I’m happy just being here. My flying magic is good enough for me.”

 

“I…” He hesitated, unsure how to voice the conflicting emotions swirling within him. “I… I kind of like having you here,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

 

Their eyes sparkled with mischief as they flipped back around to face him, their playful nature returning. “Aww, does that mean you’re developing feelings for me?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Riddle snapped, though the flustered warmth in his cheeks betrayed him. “I’m just saying—”

 

“Uh-huh,” the fairy interrupted, laughter dancing in their voice. “Just saying, right? I think you’ve got a soft spot for me, Roseheart.”

 

He opened his mouth to retort, but found no words came. Instead, he simply watched as they stood up, ready to leave. “You know,” they said, glancing back over their shoulder, “I had a lot of fun today.”

 

“Wait—” he began, suddenly feeling a tug of desperation.

 

But before he could finish, they were already turning away. “See you around, Riddle!” the fairy called over their shoulder, their voice bright and teasing.

 

“Wait!” Riddle shouted, unable to contain the urgency in his tone. “You can’t just leave like that!”

 

“I have to go, Riddle. I’ll be fine!” They shot him a reassuring smile, but there was something in their eyes that didn’t quite match the carefree tone of their words.

 

“Are you sure? Can’t you stay a bit longer?” he pressed, anxiety creeping into his voice.

 

They hesitated for a moment, their expression softening. “I wish I could, but I really have to get going. You know how it is.”

 

“But I don’t want you to go,” he admitted, his heart racing. “You can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

 

“I’ll always come back,” the fairy promised, but there was a fleeting sadness in their gaze that made him uneasy. “Just… keep an eye on the flowers for me, alright?”

 

“Wait— I don't even know your name yet!” Riddle started, feeling a cold fear settle in his chest. “And what do you mean by that? Will you really come back?”

 

They looked back, their smile bittersweet. “Just trust me, okay? I’ll see you soon!” And with that, they took off, leaving Riddle standing there, feeling an ache in his heart that he couldn’t quite understand. As they disappeared into the distance, he was left alone in the garden, haunted by an unsettling feeling that this might be the last time he would see them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Days turned into weeks again, and Riddle found himself waiting in the garden, but they never returned. Their absence lingered like a shadow, a reminder of the connection they had forged. Each day felt heavier, the laughter they once shared echoing in his mind.

 

 

The garden, once filled with color, felt like a graveyard for unfulfilled hopes. He realized that the strange feeling growing inside him was not just appreciation; it was something deeper—a connection he hadn’t fully acknowledged until it was too late.

 

 

Riddle never heard from them again. The vibrant memories faded, overshadowed by the weight of the unspoken. He would later come to learn that sometimes, darkness overtakes the light, and the ache of missing someone could become a part of his very being.

[kevin-ibw]

Show us the snippet, please 👀👀

I hope to finish this fic soon 😭

Summary: Angelic Overlord Vox visits the hotel to offer help in promoting Charlie's dream, not before calling in an old friend for extra help.

Characters Involved: Vox, Vaggie, Alastor, Charlie

Word Count: 420 (this was not intentional, I swear)

The angelic overlord manipulated the dials with intent. The atmosphere in the room grew tense, filled with a palpable sense of dread. Each twist and turn seemed to amplify the static emanating from the radio until it reached a deafening crescendo. Others in the room scrambled to shield their ears from the overwhelming noise, their faces contorted in agony. However, Vox remained unconcerned, his demeanor cool and collected amidst the chaos he orchestrated.

Vaggie's frustration bubbled to the surface, her voice cutting through the cacophony, “Hey! What do you think you're doing-” as she attempted to confront Vox. One of his eyes cracked open for the first time since he arrived, its turquoise pupil, encircled by concentric white rings, fixed its gaze upon Vaggie, making her freeze in place before shutting closed once more. The atmosphere crackled with an eerie tension as Vox's clawed hand deftly turned the dial a little to the left.

Suddenly, the air was pierced by a sound so shrill, so piercing, that it seemed to rend the very fabric of reality. An ear-splitting ring erupted from the radio, assaulting the senses of everyone present. Their faces contorted further in anguish then, the TV overlord began to speak. His voice was crisp and clear as it cut through the cacophony like a blade through silk.

“Hello, old friend,” he called, his tone carrying a sense of glee. “It's been a while, hasn't it? I need you here at the Princess Morningstar's hotel for a little favor.”

And with that, the room fell into radio silence, broken only by the faint crackle of static from the now-muted radio.

And with that, the room fell into radio silence, broken only by the faint crackle of static from the now-muted radio. As the silence stretched taut, the lights overhead flickered and dimmed, casting the room in a sinister crimson hue. Shadows began to stir around the radio as if drawn by some unseen force. They swirled and danced, tendrils of darkness reaching out like fingers searching for purchase. Then, with a suddenness that sent shivers down everyone’s spine, the shadows surged forth, enveloping the room in a suffocating embrace. They crawled along the walls, devouring the light in their path until darkness reigned supreme. In the midst of the darkness, a figure began to take shape. At first, it was nothing more than a silhouette, a formless specter lurking at the edge of perception. But with each passing moment, it grew more defined, more substantial, until finally, it stepped forth from the shadows, solid and immutable. Alastor, The Radio Demon, stood before them. Suddenly, Charlie realized things might have gotten worse.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Never have I ever everlark on the Zombie apocalypse 🧟🤭

Okay go with me on this one, because it's a little bat shit and out there and full of pseudo science and cheesy deux ex machina but here we go...

Extreme canon divergence.

Still with me? *cracks knuckles and gets to work*

Okay, so we know that tracker jackers are hive-minded. They somehow communicate and track their prey as a hive. We know this because Katniss hopes she can saw through the branch before the ones that sting her tell the rest of the hive about her. Not that it matters once she drops the nest on the Careers and Peeta but I digress. There's also the moment right before the fabled sewer kiss, when Peeta tells her something like "Leave me. Before I turn mutt like them," (paraphrasing) in reference to the lizard mutts... which opens the door to my concept.

What if Peeta wasn't talking in generalities but literally means that his mind is somehow tied to the mutts in the sewer? So, we diverge before that.

Hijacking has never been done successfully before, so the progress on Peeta Mellark's conditioning is carefully tracked and followed. An entire team of scientists working on the project. One ambitious scientist notices that in playing around with genetic alterations along with the fear conditioning, they've managed to alter Peeta's brain chemistry. He quietly takes his findings to another part of the lab and tries to recreate and expand upon this interesting muttation. He uses brain eating amoeba to deliver the new gene sequencing. This is how our zombies are formed in this au. Hive minded, engineered to be weapons that murder with their bare hands and can, with enough bites on their victim, transfer the contagion, creating more zombies.

Of course, at some point, several of the experiments break containment and chaos reigns in the Capitol. Snow escapes with his granddaughter and absconds to his bunker somewhere in District Two. A few of the guards at the prison have the brilliant idea of using the three victors they're in charge of as bait so they can escape the descending horde of brain eating muttations. It backfires. Johanna goes axe murderer supreme on the guards and on the zombies. Annie is mid meltdown and Peeta is dazed and confused, until one of them goes after Annie. He manages to protect her long enough for her to escape and protect him in return, and the three of them make a run for it.

On the other side of Panem, deep inside District 13, Katniss and Finnick watch the horror unfold onscreen as the Capitol tears itself apart in panic. Coin is, of course thrilled. They just have to contain the threat inside the Capitol and let the city burn itself to the ground. Of course, you can bet your boots that Katniss and Finnick aren't going to sit there and wait to find out if their loved ones have survived. They manage a poorly planned escape on a hovercraft and somehow have way too many allies for what is supposed to be a stealth mission.

The story would follow the two separate groups as one flees for their lives and the other barrels into danger, searching for Annie and Peeta. Half hijacked and confused, Peeta starts to mistake what happened with him and Annie during the escape means something. She's trying to keep him at arms length, but everything looks so bleak where they are, it becomes difficult not to lean on him.

Eventually, of course, the Katniss et al group discovers just how out of their depth they are with these things when they lose one of the Leeg twins, and Boggs... Right before the escaped victors stumble across them and manage to get them out of danger... temporarily.

Finnick and Annie have their joyful reunion. Peeta's confused by what's going on here. Katniss flings herself at him, and is coldly rebuffed. Oh wait you thought this was a happy ending? Mwahahahahaha. Your mistake.

So now the group needs to get out of the Capitol, and their hovercraft is too damaged to fly them out (obviously because that's how this genre works, duh), which means they have to make it past the zombies and through Coin's perimeters. Oh and she's not letting ANYONE out of the Capitol, even if they're not infected.

At some point, hijacked Peeta will come out to play. At another point, Finnick will be bitten as he heroically saves Katniss and the rest of the group. I haven't decided yet Katniss mercy kills him ala Nightlock Nightlock Nightlock, or if he manages to survive but now the group shifts it's focus from "Get the hell out of this city" to figuring out a cure. There would absolutely be some version of the unhijacking/Everlark sewer kiss with Peeta insisting that Katniss kill him. And just for funsies, they discover that Peeta somehow has a vaguely sympathetic link to the zombie horde, which is both an asset and dangerous af to their group.

How would I end this monstrosity? Option A: it conveniently turns out the brain eating amoeba thing means the zombies die within a certain window so Coin's containment thing actually works. This presents a problem when forming a new government because what she did saved a lot of people... but it also left a whole lot of people dead. Vaguely sinister ending as Katniss and company consider the ramifications of Coin in power. Option B: Cliffhanger ending when it seems like all hope is lost because Snow isn't dead and why not. idk this genre is clearly not my forte okay????

<3 kdnfb

Never Have I Ever

[i-am-dulaman]

petition for that long rant on revolutions here, i really enjoyed the way you laid out your facts and explained the first rant and am not too good at reading theory myself (i am still trying tho) thanks!!

Okay okay so the problem with revolutions is they get messy. Real messy. You get counter-revolutionaries, moderates, extremists, loyalists, and everything in between. One revolution turns into 5, and even if your side wins, its almost guaranteed to have been tainted some way or another along the way.

Take the first french revolution. It started as civil unrest, the estates general initially called for reform of the french state into a constitutional monarchy similar to Britain. Even king louis XVI was in support of this. But extremists wanting a republic and counter-revolutionaries wanting absolute monarchy clashed and things became more and more chaotic and violent. Eventually the extremists won, the jacobin reign of terror ensued, and 10s of thousands of people were executed. Now don't get me wrong, i am all for executing monarchs and feudal lords, but look what happened a few years later; Napoleon used the political instability to declare himself emperor, a few more years later his empire had crumbled, and the monarchy was back with Louis XVIII.

Or take the 1979 iranian revolution. It started as protests against pahlavi, who was an authoritarian head of state and an American pawn. As the protests turned into civil resistance and guerilla warfare it took on many different forms. There were secularists vs islamic extremists. There were democrats vs theocrats vs monarchists. Etc. Through all the chaos, Khomeini seized power, held a fake referendum, and declared himself supreme leader and enforced many strict laws, particularly on women who previously had close to equal rights. Many of the millions of women involved in the revolution later said they felt bettayed by the end result.

Or the Russian Revolution. It started as protests, military strikes, and civil unrest during WW1 directed at the tsar. He stepped down in 1917 and handed power over to the Duma, the russian parliament. This new provisionary government initially had the support of soviet councils, including socialist groups like the menshiviks. But they made the major mistake of deciding to continue the war. Lenins bolsheviks were originally a very tiny group on the fringes of russian politics, but they were the loudest supporters of peace, so they gained support and organised militias into an army and thus began the russian civil war. Lenin won and followed through on his promise to end the war against germany, but its a bit ironic that they fought a civil war, that killed about 10 million people, just to end another war.

Im not saying any of these results were either bad or good. They all have nuance and its all subjective. But the point i am trying to make is that they get messy. The initial goals will always be twisted.

France wanted a constitutional monarchy, they got an autocratic emporer.

Iran wanted democracy and an end to American influence, and well they ended american influence alright but also got a totalitarian theocrat.

Russia wanted an end to world war 1 and got one of the bloodiest civil wars in history.

I cant think of a single revolution in history that achieved the goals it set out to achieve.

But again, im not saying this is necessarily a bad thing, just a warning against revolutionary rhetoric and criticisms of reformism. Sometimes revolution is the only option, when you're faced with an authoritarian government diametrically opposed to change, then a revolution may be worth the risk. But it is a risk.

But if you live in a democracy, claiming revolution is the only way is actively choosing both bloodshed and the risk of things going horribly wrong over the choice of peaceful reform.

So when i go online in some leftist spaces and see people claiming revolution in America or UK or wherever is the only way out of capitalism I cant help but feel angry.

I know our democracy is flawed, and reform is slow and can even go backwards, but we owe it to all the people who would die in a revolution to try reform first.

I know socialist reform is especially hard in our flawed democracy where capitalists own the media, but if we can't convince enough people to vote for socialist reform what hope do we have of convincing enough people to join a socialist revolution. Socialism is supposed to be for the people, but how can you claim your revolution is for the people if you can't even get the support of the people?

So what I'm trying to say is; if youre one of those leftists that are sitting around waiting for the glorious revolution, doing nothing but posting rhetoric online - at least try doing something else while you wait. Join your labour union, recruit your coworkers, get involved in your local socialist parties, call your local representatives (city council, senator, governor, member of parliament, whatever) and make your opinions known, push them further left, and keep pushing.

[fenricken]

You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 1/7

Ao3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

next

Summary:

Danny has been getting the hang of this whole “Ancient of Doors”, “Apprentice to Clockwork”, “Dad to the Chaos Gremlin Dani” thing, and he’s really starting to find his flow! Sure, he sometimes misses the life that could’ve been, but overall everything has been great! Sure doesn’t need anything throwing a tangle in things.

Bruce is suffering. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or what the hell is going on. All he’s running on is instinct and strange forces propelling him towards some end he’s not entirely certain of.

Basically, Danny tries to help Batman over the course of events covered in Batman:Return of Bruce Wayne

Chapter One:

“Clockwork? Are you here? I got your message.” Danny floated up the tower, peeking behind cogs and pendulums, hoping to find a glimpse of his teacher’s signature purple cloak.

It had been a long time since certain… events had led Danny to become a far more permanent resident of the Infinite Realms. Of course, he wasn’t alone, as much of Amity had also followed him here to carve out a new life all together, his friends and family included.

Danny had since reached maturity and been recognized as Ancient of Doors for his actions. When faced with his evil future self, he strove to find another path where he didn’t become that future self. When Dani was revealed to be with the enemy, he chose to love her still, rather than hate her as many would. When he was faced with a reality where he was famous, and accepted by his parents, he chose to undo all of that for the peace and safety of his friends and family. While he now knew his parent’s acceptance would always come, he still had to make the choice then to put his trust in them and reveal himself so his friends could be saved when the GIW came to destroy Amity Park. And so, for his commitment to forging new paths, always finding another choice, and braving the unknown he was named Ancient of Doors. 

Sam had also found her own mentor in Undergrowth, working hard as his apprentice to aid him in his duties as Ancient of Wild Growth. Tucker and Technus had quickly formed a rivalry, both competing to see who would reign supreme as the Infinite Realm’s ultimate tech master. Jazz had found her purpose in the Department of Lost Souls, as an advisor to those who weren’t certain about their afterlife, and what they wanted to do with it. After Jack and Maddie’s change of heart with regards to ghosts, it was not long before they found new purpose in investigating and researching the many mysteries of the Infinite Realms and beyond.

While he and his friends had reached their own maturity, Dani had remained a child. Something about “It’s easier to cause chaos this way” and “No one ever suspects the baby”. Danny’s fondness for his clone only grew until he saw her less as a cousin and more as a daughter. Ultimately, it was only a surprise for Danny and Dani when the ghost-bond snapped in place, formally cementing her as his daughter, to both of their suffering.

Currently, she was out in one of the universes, chasing after some hybrid spider-pig, Danny thinks. Unless she got distracted and went to hang out with Klarion again, in an effort to “maximize joint chaos”. Tucker and Sam were both busy with their respective duties, Jazz was at work, and last he checked Mom and Dad were elbows deep in a mech suit they were hoping to get working off an Infinite Realms Corn-based fuel Sam had created. Danny had been feeling quite bored before he got the summons from Clockwork, and had jumped on it right away, hence his surprise at not being able to find his Mentor anywhere.

Danny had finally reached the top of the tower. He could see a table set up with a small tea service, but still no Clockwork. Figuring there’s nothing else to do, Danny pours himself a cup of tea, and settles in to wait.

—

Who is he? What is this place? His hand rests against a cool, smooth surface that appears so at odds with the rest of his surroundings-rocky ground, a red sky, and the water lapping against the cliff-side. There is nothing, and no one else that he sees, except – a cave. He stumbles in, visions of symbols surfacing in his brain- two “W”s, an “S”, a bat. He carves these into the rock-face desperate to have a visual trigger that would help him remember anything, but nothing comes.

A rock clatters against the floor of the cave, followed by someone’s voice. He approaches, steadily, entering into the light. Four men stand before him, weapons raised. They say something else, but he can’t understand.

“Where am I? What is this place?”

They do not answer him, but pull back their weapons. They introduce themselves, and speak some more. Names, he realizes- Man, Boy, Giant, Surly, Joker. This last one gives him pause, tickles something in his brain that upsets him, but soon his eyes lay on the structure from before, and he stumbles back to it, certain it must contain some clue.

The men he walks past continue to converse amongst themselves, but he has only one destination in mind. He digs through, looking for anything, but comes up only with a large swath of fabric. That same “S”, that calls to him but gives no answers.

The men set up camp, cooking as they go. They invite him to join, and he does, his hunger for food now outweighing his hunger for knowledge.

—

“Danny, I’m glad you came as soon as you could.” 

Danny’s teacup clatters as he jolts in surprise. He turns to face Clockwork, “I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself. What did you need my help with?”

Clockwork’s face turns a bit grim. “There is… something twisted in the time stream in one of the Justice League universes. While I can tell it is meant to happen, I am still uncertain about what is actually happening, and fear that I am unable to see with any certainty the outcome. I need you to venture to when this is to investigate on my behalf.”

Danny nods, his concern growing. “Of course. Is there anything in particular I should be prepared for?”

Danny swears he sees the corner of Clockwork’s mouth twitch up into his signature sly grin, before his face is quickly schooled and he says “No, just observe for now. Your destination is through here.”

Danny watches as the cog begins to glow before he ventures forward.

Immediately he is met with the sight of violence. It seems one group of cavemen has taken to attacking another during their dinner. Danny watches, cautious against intervening, trying to figure out who he is meant to watch for. He sees one man, dressed in black bottoms, escape the field of battle with a young boy and hide in the bushes. The battle quickly turns against the four who had been eating dinner, and Danny looks at the leader of those attacking, surprised that the leader’s face is familiar to him…though he can’t quite place who.

The man from before rejoins the fray, quickly beating many off before ultimately being subdued himself. The leader of the attacking cavemen crows in victory, before the army collects the man they’ve now taken prisoner and any other spoils, and returns to their home base.

Danny follows, trying hard not to focus on the bloodshed beneath. He may have lived a long time, but the kind of person willing to commit such violence is not someone he goes out of his way to find. He watches as the chief holds the man they took captive above his head.

“Conquering Chief Savage brings gifts from the forbidden land!”

“Shit,” Danny thinks, “I can’t believe I’m witnessing Vandal Savage’s villain origin story. Or is he already a villain at this point?”

Danny continues watching as they tie up the captive, who they’ve been calling ‘Man-God’ underneath a giant bat pelt. He takes a closer look, before reeling back in shock.

“I thought his pants were weird, but those are pretty 21st century” he thinks, before glancing around at hearing a shuffle. He sees a shadow lurking beyond the camp, crouched down. Danny approaches, recognizing the boy that had been rescued from the fight. He wears what looks like a yellow utility belt, and has painted a bat-shaped mask over his eyes.

“Wait… bats, a yellow utility belt…” Danny glances again to the Man-God strapped to the ground. 

“What is Batman doing here..?” Danny pauses, thinking. He should only be here as an observer, but it has never felt right to just stand on the sidelines when he can make the choice to do something to help. Maybe he doesn’t have to do too much. He floats over to where the Boy is crouched, clearly wanting to help but paralyzed with fear and indecision.

“Go to him. Help him as he has helped you. There has been enough bloodshed this day, will you wait around to see more?” Danny whispers to him, watching the boy’s eyes harden as he comes to a decision.

The boy is quick to act now that he’s made a decision. He approaches Batman, and frees him from his bonds. Danny watches as they collect themselves. Batman dons his utility pelt, and the bat pelt that had been hung over him. By the time they’ve finished their preparations, the sun has risen and the men who captured Batman are rising.

“Should I cause a distraction?” Danny wonders, but before he can do anything, Batman and the boy spring into action, taking out fighter after fighter, until Batman is left facing Vandal Savage.

They charge towards each other, but Danny’s attention is caught by a shadow that begins to pass over the battlefield. He looks up, noting an eclipse is starting. He can feel the energy changing, knows that something is going to happen when the sun has been completely blotted out.

But Clockwork has instructed him only to observe, so observe he will. He turns back to the battlefield, noting that Batman and the boy have managed to push back Vandal Savage, but are still being chased off by the remaining caveman. They drop over a waterfall, but when Danny follows, he only sees the boy surface.

The sky is dark now, as the sun has been completely covered, and there is energy concentrated underneath the water. Danny focuses, in the way Clockwork has taught him, to figure out what lies beneath and where Batman has gone.

“A strong amount of time-manipulation energy…No Batman, not in this time anymore.” Danny looks around to see the boy has realized Batman will not follow, and has left to find shelter. 

“Did he make another jump through time? But how? I didn’t see that he had anything on him capable of such a jump?” Danny thinks. He’s considering if he can piggy back off the residual energy to jump to when Batman is, but a portal opens behind him and Clockwork steps out.

“Danny, I think it would be best if we return now.” he says, gesturing for Danny to follow.

—

Back at his mentor’s lair, Danny explains the situation to Clockwork. Clockwork inclined his head in thought, only speaking after some time, “I can’t say for certain whether or not Batman was meant to be in that time period. However, there is something suspicious about the way he’s been traveling through time. Did you notice anything off with the time manipulation energy, Danny?” 

“I can’t say for certain,” Danny starts, “Though I did notice there was a build-up to the event, in line with an eclipse. Then again, I’m not familiar enough with the way dimensional energy manipulation feels in the universes with the Justice League to say for certain.”

Clockwork hums, before turning to rifle through a cupboard that popped up behind him. He pulled out a glowing orange orb. “Here, it’s a record of the time-manipulation energy gathered from one of the Flash’s misadventures. Can you compare and feel any difference?”

Danny closes his eyes before focusing again. “I can feel there are some significant similarities, but it feels like both have an added component that is different from each other? I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

“The energy reading from the sphere I handed you will likely contain energy both from the time-manipulation and the Speedforce the Flashes use to travel between time. If we assume the time-manipulation energy is the constant in both samples, then…”

“There’s some other energy added into the mix that is propelling Batman forward through time?” Danny finishes.

“That is likely the case. Until we know what it is, it would be best to exercise caution. We don’t know how it interacts with the time-manipulation energy, so we can’t predict how it might affect you Daniel.” Clockwork pauses in thought once more, “I’ll spend some time figuring out where Batman made his next jump. In the meantime, take a rest and prepare yourself.”

“I’m not totally familiar with the universes containing the Justice League. I’ll spend some time researching for now… and maybe I’ll ask Dani what she knows when she returns.”

Clockwork smiles slightly, before nodding. “A fine course of action, it might be best to gather all the information we can before proceeding.”

A/N:

At the time of plotting this, I haven’t read A Glitch in Time. I know that there are some time periods in common that Danny and Bruce travel to, so I want to address that at this moment I’m not planning to reference A Glitch in Time.

As for actual writing, I feel a bit stuck on how much of Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne to actually reference, as I’m aware that most people in the dp x dc fandom are more familiar with Danny Phantom, and from other references I’ve seen to Batman’s travels through time it might not be a story many are familiar with. That being said, I don’t want to just directly repeat details from the comics. I guess if you feel I didn’t provide enough background from the comic series to understand what’s going on, or that I should maybe try referencing less, please let me know so I can make corrections.

On that note, I do recommend reading Batman:The Return of Bruce Wayne if you get the chance. There are so many interesting layers it adds to the mythos and history of Batman and the Wayne family, and it’s really a great read. It helps that you don’t really need too much knowledge of what comes before– except maybe that Batman had crafted a god-killing bullet he shot Darkseid with, before Darkseid retaliated and “killed” Batman. Even this is alluded to in the story in enough detail that you can understand what’s going on, though.

[libraryofolive]

drabbles and fics masterlist

MDNI 18+

gojo satoru:

replacement - hurt/comfort fic

Synopsis: You boyfriend insists he's over his ex. But if he's over him, why does he keep calling you his ex's name?

make me look pretty - fluffy fic

Gojo convinces you to do his make up and there's just one problem - the man can't sit still.

geto suguru:

let me take over! - smutty drabble

You finally convince Suguru to let you dom him, but it doesn't quite go as you expect.

nanami kento:

lost time - an angst to fluff fic

Synopsis: Nanami Kento left sorcery - and you, his best friend - behind two years ago. So what happens when you, still pissed off at him, get assigned a mission together?

Nanami x alternative!gn!reader - fluffy drabble

Synopsis: General headcanons in a drabble format about what it would be like being Nanami's alternative partner

the tattoo - smutty drabble

You come home one day with a new tattoo, and challenge your partner, Kento Nanami, to find it.

talk - smutty drabble

You are Nanami's new worker, and he is now finding it so hard to keep his strict separation of business and pleasure because of you.

use your words - smutty drabble

Part 2 to 'Talk' but can also be read as a stand alone. Nanami's colleague has started having some rather unprofessional dreams about him, little does she know that he has been having the same problem.

choso kamo:

impatience, chapter two - fluffy fic

You meet your new neighbour, Choso, and his younger brother as they move in across the hall from you. He's your neighbour, and that's all he can be, right? No matter how attractive he might be.

higuruma hiromi:

cloudy days - hurt/comfort drabble

Your husband comforts you when the negative aspects of life get a little too much.

Mrs. Higuruma - angsty hurt/comfort drabble

An outlook into what it would be like to be the wife of one Hiromi Higuruma, during and after the fight against Sukuna.

ino takuma:

relax - hurt/comfort drabble

Your boyfriend comes home after a rough day at work, but luckily you're there to comfort him.

time to dye - fluffy drabble

Chaos reigns supreme as your golden retriever boyfriend helps you dye your hair

okay but hear me out... - fluffy drabble

Making a hear me out cake with your boyfriend is just meaningless fun, right?

toji fushiguro:

use the door! - fluffy drabble

You're stood happily cooking dinner alone in your kitchen, when your boyfriend sneaks up on you. Unluckily for him, you didn't know he'd come home from work already.

bad idea... right? - smutty drabble

After getting a 'u up?' text from your ex, Toji Fushiguro, you decide that fucking seeing him tonight was a bad idea... right?

multi-character:

proposals - fluff

How would the JJK men propose to you? Find out here! Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Takuma Ino and Hiromi Higuruma

Want to read some of my smaus? You can find that masterlist here!

[m2jay]

Soul Touch [Ford x OC]

Here's a little preview of what's in the story. Thanks to the release of "The Book of Bill" and the dating sim game "Swooning Over Stans," I think it was time for me to contribute to the Gravity Falls fandom and write a fanfic. Here's a part of it:

◬◬Bill's POV◬◬

"A X O L O T L! My time has come to burn! I invoke the ancient power that I may return."

        To think that using the last of my powers in Stanley's mind would lead me to this. That damn con artist is really going to get it this time. As I invoked the strength I had left inside, I managed to survive within the cosmos life other deities are able to do. Banished to a realm amongst the stars, I was met with the AXOLOTL. Though soothing of a presence, it's not my style.

        I crave chaos and destruction, one that leaves me with a good laugh. Seeing the terror amongst humans is absolutely amusing, and it's fun to see how far they'll go for their own selfish desires. They live in a meaningless way. There's nothing good about the world they fight so hard to go on in. Why do they fight so hard for a life that just ultimately has so much struggle in the end? Having infinite power is where it's really at. They're all too stupid to understand.

        The party had stopped. Time was dead and meaning had no meaning. Existence was upside-down and I reigned supreme briefly. I had it all. 

        Everything was in my grasp, even ol' Fordsy too. The fact that I was outsmarted by his lesser half is an absolute embarrassment to my existence. It's not fair, and I will get him back, along with the whole damn Pines family. They will get what's coming to them once I get out.

        I've been locked away in Theraprism in Dimension #5150. It's a neutral zone that's outside of time. If I were stronger, I'd have destroyed this useless place. I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not in order to get out of here.

        I had many crimes against reality against me. I've done memory laundering, breaking and entering the fabric of space-time, chrono-infanti-regicide, multilevel  marketing, psychic torture, the "2nd-Dimension Incident," and Weirdmageddon. Personally, I don't think this is all that bad to keep me locked up in one of the highest wellness centers of space and time.

        People don't change, not even GODS. Wanna know how to get out of a mental ward, kid? It's faking it. You tell them what they want to hear. You mask everything. Don't be your true self. Trust no one.

        My power isn't as strong as the AXOLOTL, but I still got it. I've managed to fabricate a book that will go out into the Pine's family's dimension. I call it "The Book of Bill." Pretty clever, right? It's pretty impressive if I do say so myself.

        If anything, of all gods, why am I here? Isn't there some Christian entity or something that went against the God or whatever. If anything, why not blame all my atrocities on that guy, huh? Don't a lot of people do that anyways to get away with things? I mean seriously, I'm not the embodiment of bad itself or anything. Let's blame it on that Satan guy. There's so many dimensional timelines, I can't be the ONLY BEING THIS BAD HERE! 

        I can't lose my cool completely here. Heck, not even at all. I need to keep up the façade in order to get out. That's right, and I'll be out here soon. I just know it. My all-seeing eye is still capable of looking through the abundant paths people can take. I see the last opportunity and will take it for myself. 

        Sixer, you're in for something that cannot be fixed. I'll make sure you regret not taking my hand to rule dimensions and travel across galaxies at my side. When I get my hands on you again, I will turn you back into a gold statue that'll be erected onto my record player, forever in a musical dance that spins. You'll be sorry.

        As for your good for nothing brother, there's an end for him that I am counting on. Just you wait, Stanley. Punching my eye and breaking my body in the mind space will be the last time you'll ever lay your mortal hands on me.

        I need to smear my mind blank. The SEA ANGEL of the Theraprism is here. Oh, how she's easy to manipulate. I guess it's why you can consider the gal an angel. It's a shame for her, really, because she's so easy to manipulate. The way she thinks I'm actually changing is HILARIOUS! What a shame for them for when their time comes. They'll all see.

        "Bill Cipher, good stars!" The dim-witted SEA ANGEL greeted happily.

        "Yes, good stars! Haha.." I greeted. 'Haha..'

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

Links to the fanfics will be listed here so far:

Wattpad

Quotev

[cyberpunkonline]

The Untamed Web: How Internet Culture Rebels, Evolves, and Defines Our Digital Age

What is Internet culture? The question drifts through the ether like a rogue signal, elusive and captivating. To untangle this web, we must trace its lineage back to its inception, a digital genesis rooted in the analog rituals of Deadheads in the 70s. Much like those dedicated followers of the Grateful Dead, early Internet denizens sought connection and community, but instead of tapes and stories, they shared bytes and bits in mailing lists and Usenet newsgroups. Here, intellectuals, hackers, and rebels mingled in a digital potluck of ideas, raw and unfiltered.

As the dial-up tones gave way to the persistent hum of a growing network, Internet Relay Chat (IRC) emerged as the heartbeat of this underground culture. Real-time interaction became the new frontier, a global speakeasy where minds met in channels dedicated to everything imaginable. This wasn't just idle chat; it was a crucible for innovation and rebellion. Hacking groups like Cult of the Dead Cow and Legion of Doom pushed the limits of technology and legality, shaping the Internet in their anarchic image.

Then came vaporwave, the eerie soundtrack of a digital dystopia. This genre, with its nostalgic echoes of the 80s and 90s, felt like the Internet itself was creating music. Vaporwave artists like MACINTOSH PLUS crafted tracks that were both haunting and familiar, resonating with those disillusioned by the encroaching corporatization of digital spaces. It was a sonic rebellion, an aural middle finger to the commercialization of the Internet.

Memes, those viral fragments of culture, became the lifeblood of this digital underground. From the early days of "All Your Base Are Belong to Us," a quirky mistranslation from the game Zero Wing, to the complex narratives of modern memes, these digital artifacts spread like wildfire, uniting and dividing communities in equal measure. The tragicomic saga of Harambe, the gorilla shot at the Cincinnati Zoo, turned into a meme that evolved into a cultural phenomenon and even inspired a cryptocurrency in his legacy. Memes are the modern folklore, ever-evolving and reflective of the current digital zeitgeist.

At its core, Internet underground culture embodies the cyberpunk ethos—an unyielding rebellion against corporate overlords, a fight for digital freedom and privacy. Piracy, casual hacking, and the rise of cryptocurrency are not just acts of defiance but declarations of identity. This culture stands in stark opposition to corporatism, advocating for the decentralization of information and power. The emergence of decentralized networks and cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin are testaments to this ongoing struggle for autonomy.

Influences of Discordianism, with its embrace of chaos and rejection of traditional structures, permeate this culture. The Internet thrives on disruption, finding beauty in the unpredictable and the chaotic. It's a digital frontier where order is constantly challenged, and chaos is celebrated.

Politicians view Internet culture with a mix of fascination and fear. The concept of an "ungovernable" digital populace is both an ideal and a nightmare. Early Internet pioneers dreamed of a decentralized, unregulated space where freedom reigned supreme. However, as the Internet has grown, so too have efforts to control it. Governments impose regulations, corporations seek to monetize it, and the original vision of an ungovernable digital utopia becomes harder to live. Yet, pockets of resistance remain, where the spirit of rebellion and the desire for autonomy continue to thrive.

But like any culture, it has a dual nature. The democratization of information and the global connections fostered by Internet culture are profound positives. Yet, the same platforms that unite can also incubate hate speech and cybercrime. It is a reflection of humanity itself, with its myriad facets of light and dark.

So, what is Internet culture in 2024? It is a digital rebellion, a chaotic blend of nostalgia, anti-corporatism, and radical freedom of expression that continues to shape and redefine the digital landscape. In one sentence: Internet culture is the chaotic digital tapestry woven from the threads of rebellion, nostalgia, and the relentless pursuit of freedom.

We seek resistance. It begins with the maintainance of the culture.