#heres his origin story lol

[brooke-burnes]

Brooke's Journal Part 1

Origins: "The Worst Birthday I've ever had"

I think the only way I'm gonna be able to cope with this is if I detach myself from it. If I treat it like it's something that happened to someone else, a crime scene I only ever saw pictures of, at an address I don't recognize, it feels less... personal.

Even if I know for a fact that it was.

Well, no matter how little I wanna talk about it, I'm probably gonna regret not writing this down.

I was going home late after work. A few of my co-workers made me a cake to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. It was good. They talked me into staying late with them to decorate the office for the winter holidays. Something about how my desk was always decorated the best. I doubt any of us were expecting that me staying late would save my life.

As the bus pulled up to the stop, I noticed the red and blue lights around the corner. It wasn't until I actually rounded the corner that I realized they were in front of my house.

I remember being confused and concerned. This is the point where everything becomes a bit of a blur.

They almost didn't let me in. It took a few minutes of convincing. I think Red Hood was there. He really didn't want to let me in.

Walking in was really jarring.

Everyone was in the living room. It looked like they were decorating the tree.

This would have been my second year celebrating Christmas with them. The only family that would want me around for more than a year. The only family I wanted to be around for more than a year.

It followed the Joker's typical M.O. in a few key ways: the "haha"s written on the walls, green purple and red spray paint, and the sides of everyone's mouths cut like that one Yo-Kai. That said, I'm honestly not convinced it was the Joker. He's not exactly the type to make home visits without being damn sure Batman would show up.

That aside, the entire house was completely ransacked. Furniture was destroyed, a few doors were torn off the hinges, plates and glasses were shattered on the floor.

By the time I went upstairs to my room to see what had survived, Batman had showed up. He and Red Hood insisted on sticking with me. I'm honestly grateful for it.

Upon opening the door to my shared room, a click sounded and before I could react, a bomb went off. I'm damn lucky batman was there. He used his cape to shield me from the blast. I remember wondering what the hell it was made of to be able to block a fucking bomb at point blank and have all three of us get out of it without a scratch.

The worst part was after the smoke cleared.

On my wall, in bright red paint, were the words "where did you go?" along with my deadname.

Everything of mine was torn to shreds. All I could salvage was a silver bracelet with red roses that was under my bed. I don't even remember where I got it.

That's not even the end of the story.

After all that, Batman told the commissioner to "call their mutual friend" and "let him know the bat's calling in a favor". Then he turned to Red Hood and told him to keep an eye on me until "he" got there. He drove off while I got taken to the police station, and I was wracking my brain trying to think of what I was gonna do, who was I going to stay with, my phone had died on the bus ride home and I didn't have any family I could reach out to anyway.

As I was spiraling I heard a car pull up outside, and moments later, Bruce Wayne sat down across from me.

He offered to let me stay with him until I could get on my feet, and without anywhere else to go, I accepted.

I write this entry from my bedroom in the manor. I have nothing to my name but the clothes I wore to work that day, the few things I had in my backpack, a bracelet I found under my bed, and my smartphone (but no charger).

At this point, I'm not sure what I can do. Tomorrow I'm going to get a charger, call my boss, and figure out where the hell I go from here.

-Brooke Alexandra Burnes

[baede-6]

Had a grown man tell me that I'm not allowed to ship my Guardian with Cayde-6 because it "wasn't in the lore" then promptly send me his Destinypedia page.

So anyway, now they're married.

[artblock-tm]

I’ve mentioned in my Ambivalent Souls infodump but I have a crack au that just inserts those OCs into the story of Death Note.

Hare is Light, Zerie is L, Midnight is Misa, Thirio is Ryuk, Attakai is Rem, Maroon is Near, and Feil is Mello.

I’ve drawn… a lot in a short amount of time. Haha. Whoops.

The au follows the main story of Death Note (the show) with some slight characterization changes. If you wanna ask me about it, my inbox is open!

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 8

Majora('s Mask)

*throws bouquet of roses* For the Time lovers.

Also my bias is probably coming through really strongly right now, but I'm not well rested enough to care plus I've been playing Majora's Mask a lot again this month, it's as important to me as Twilight Princess so this is kind of my love letter to it and Time and my excuse to explore the concept of Majora and the Fierce Deity and divinity in LoZ, though that's an essay for another day lol (/j)

As always can be read as romantic or platonic depending on your preferences, Reader is gender neutral and this is definitely self indulgent so it can be read in or outside of an LU context, most of the references to the LU names are for simplicity and to give a rough idea of why Reader has some stuff they do. Makes it easier to clarify lol, though as I've been hit by yet another storm the Linktober prompt will be for tomorrow, I'm basically picking a god and praying this actually posts X_X

TW(?):

Don't think there's any warnings besides MJM's typical body horror really, and very graphic descriptions and Majora in general.

Even after so, so long, so much so it feels like a lifetime ago, Termina still stuck with you and Time.

The thing about being in a timeloop that went on for who knows how long and whose failure to reset it would be total destruction to so many good different people, is that you quickly learn some habits to try and maximize as many successes as possible, how Time (Mask, then, after the living nightmare of Termina, during the War of Ages, still Link though) quickly learned the location of each enemy he could, how you learned to call out the best way to quickly assess and take down an enemy as quickly as possible, how you both learned to watch each other’s backs and to care for the people and Termina to the point Link went from just a warrior to a healer, granted the trust of holding the crystalization of the hopes and dreams of the people of Termina that, even if they couldn’t remember it, wanted the cycle to end, wanted to hunt the threat to reality itself and purge it from the world. To bite down onto it’s neck and feel the thrill and glee and cutting down such an opponent.

Most importantly, after bleeding, crying, sweating and toiling against the unrelenting flow of time and insanity all brought upon by a lonely child being left alone and manipulated to commit heinous acts as ‘pranks’. It taught you and Time the importance of contingency plans, and about always, always being prepared for any and all situations, unlikely as they could be. Of taking through note of even the smallest detail that caught your eyes at a glance.

‘To defeat an abomination, you need one of two things: A deity, or a monster.’, you think cynically to yourself, stepping over Time’s fallen form as Warriors bolted over with blizzard forged fury in his cold, calculated movements to defend him in your stead as you called Hyrule over, the young man quickly starting to heal your Hero as you glare down at the disgusting stain on reality engaging Twilight and Wild all at once, gleeful at having watched the person you adored the most fall, bringing out the ultimate contingency from your cloak, you hadn’t even told him about it, because you prayed you’d never need to resort to this, ‘… Forgive me, Link. The first option isn’t doable here.’

Time was your everything, you knew how his story ended, with so much grief until he finally met Twilight again. You tried, you really did, to not allow yourself to love him but it was impossible because he was Link, the man who longed for adventure ever since he was young, embodying the freedom of the forest of life and death that made up the whole of Faron Woods and the Lost Woods and as steady as it’s moors, voice quiet and calm like a stream in the woods and with and with a smile to rival the warm sun and so, so heartbreakingly kind. Who protected and saved and healed people while slowly healing his own soul and who attempted to soothe his descendant’s pain the second he could even from beyond the grave.

And you’d be darned if you allowed anything to take him from you or the boys before his time without a fight. You couldn’t care less if he would eventually die as he was destined to in every timeline, it didn’t matter if it was futile, because he mattered, you loved him, and you’d keep him safe and happy for as long as you could.

It didn’t matter if one day tragedy will catch up to him, it mattered that he was loved while alive.

Even if you had to step on fire to make sure of it.

“Twilight, Wild. Step away.”, the edges of the spikes of the purple and crimson mask that haunted your nightmares as much as it did Time’s, it leered at you with it’s arsenic and pus eyes, picking apart at your weaknesses as it’s spikes dug into your hand as you tightened your grip to keep if from shaking. Tone falsely confident as you called to the Hero of Twilight and Wild to retreat.

(‘To defeat an abomination, you need a deity or a monster.’

The definition is awfully interchangeable, if you look at it.

You had found it, abandoned and in a dungeon Wind’s Era, not quite awake, but not asleep either. The eldritch hunger almost chocking you with it’s voracity, the darkness assessing, stalking, prowling and starving, it prodded at you but didn’t dig yet. It knew how to play the long game in it’s quest to stop feeling empty.

Funny thing is, so did you. You were a lot harder to break than the Skull Kid, would not break.

Majora wanted to cease, like how it had ceased before the Terminan Tribe ripped it from it’s slumber, taught it hunger, taught it cruelty, taught it how to manipulate and take amusement in consuming the wishes of mortals and their very souls only to never be satisfied. Had fueled it with wrath from being ripped from a lovely, endless dream of beautiful songs and a kind soul. To be torn from it’s fantasy and then left to rot.

You offered to grant it a proper rest. And so a deal was struck. Your one contingency if the situation was truly dire, in case you couldn’t get the Fierce Deity Mask instead -because you knew how Link was, he’d burn himself out until there was naught but ash. You refused to let it ever come to that, after his excruciating screams of pain had clawed an aching, hurtful place into your very soul-, and Majora was starving and desperate, a dangerous combination for any being but something you could use.

So be it, if to protect divinity you needed to become a monstrosity, a monster was what you’d be.

You’d keep him safe. And you knew that if the Fierce Deity put him down once, he could do it again in case you slipped. Between him and Sky you weren’t afraid at all of the risk.

Even if Time never forgave you for taking it.)

You smile bitterly, tearing up in spite of yourself as you see the second Time spots you and the cursed artifact in hand, eye wide, voice ripping from his throat in desperation, “I’m quite selfish, I’m sorry.”

His haunted expression cuts you deeper than any knife, as you knew it was an image that featured in many of your nightmares and his own. But you’re insatiable for his happiness, so you take the plunge.

“NO NO NO NO DON’T-“

You put on the mask, and you scream.

It’s like stepping on fire, a twisted, desperate tune, a note of discord, a belt of harmony and fury and most importantly, the mighty need to consume the one who had tried to take the one you loved away from you.

Defy death, defy entropy, defy chaos, defy flame and voracity.

You cling to your self control with a snarl, howling in defiance. Sinking your nails into the abyss’ throat and biting, tearing, holding, tasting rot and withered flowers and the writhing of shadows and the blood of distorted gluttonousdivinity on your tongue with savagery equal to the way the demon sinks it's spikes onto you. Chew on it’s tender, rotting flesh, quaff down the lukewarm pus of it’s heart and the rust of blood as it bites off your skin, stripping your mind into chunks as it nests into your ribs like the spikes of wild, dead roses when it finds your mind tougher to break and you BURN YOU ARE LIFE YOU ARE CHAOS AND YOU ARE DROWNING AND YOU ARE FLAME-

You move, and Majora’s laugh sounds like a scream and a song as reality howls.

Your bones, sinew, muscles, nerves, veins and teeth are reformed, the being pounces, dancing, swerving, whipping, cleaving, ripping and feeding into the monsters with putrid, revolting gusto. Whenever it’s attention even tries to waver towards the Heroes you sink your hold in harder, stubborn, you’re sure there’s blood dripping from your mouth beneath the mask, your eyes, your ears, as it reaches a crescendo of glee and pain. A human body isn’t meant to hold so much divinity at once, much less as wretched and horrific as Majora’s, but you don’t care, can’t care, when you’re holding onto yourself like a vice, refusing to give it even a single inch.

It doesn’t kill Dark Link, the bastard (the one who’d hurt Time, the one who would have finished him off if not for you and Warriors). But the screech the Shadow releases as it gets ripped to shreds and the ripple of it’s retreating form is enough to make you partially agree with Majora’s vicious, amused glee that it was satisfying. Even if the feeling of you allowing it to utilize your skin temporarily felt revolting and disgusting in a way it made you wish you were actually on fire, not just in so much pain in a metaphysical level that it sure rivaled being set on fire, frost burned and lightning struck all in one go.

All is still now, all is silent.

Now comes the difficult part.

'Are you quite sure?', whispers Majora, crooning like nails on chalkboards, and it’s spikes sink into you tighter when you grip the sides of it, teeth gritted as you start prying it out of your face, amused by your defiance, but no longer as hungry. You did allow it quite the meal, you bet nothing like fellow divinity tastes better to the being, like the taste of a forbidden fruit you were going to be unfortunately acquainted given you’re sure Dark Link’s blood is on your teeth.

'Yes.' comes your faint response, as your sanity frays in fragile threads, you think someone calls your name, but you are drowning, you are burning, and you know that if you don’t focus it will break you. And you’d be fully dead before you let that happen. If you’re going to die you’re going to die as a human.

'Tou are so, so cold… So cruel.' It drawls, the demon’s voice like the gnawing of rats, like maggots under you skin, you convulse, falling to your knees with a wounded keen and pull harder, you barely noticed someone falling by your side, frantically calling your name, but the mask’s eyes dim to an outsider’s perspective, resigned as it hums dreamily, 'I suppose that’s why The Divine Hunter cares for you so, why it’s vessel’s claim is so strong.'

Good, you were banking on it being sleepy, after gorging yourself on the enemy of your boys, Hylia’s gash and Din’s assets your mouth is going to taste putrid for months isn’t it?

Majora hisses, growls, howls and screeches, a brush against your essence as it retreats. Unwinding from every single cell of your body, distorting your atoms back to their proper shape. It still hurts, buy it’s more bearable, although you quickly notice you’re chocking on a different form of Divinity, more possessive, more wild but just as old and ferocious as it snaps at the retreating heels of the twisted, chaotic thorns. Making reality remember your own shape quicker at the cost of filling every crack consumed by the demon.

You swear that thing is smiling smugly at something else, teeth bared and very entertained, taking the suffering of the people of Termina and the cold revulsion in your veins with it as it retreats with it's cacaphony of voices to the shade, 'A shame. Feasting more would be delightful, but very well. We trust that though you hurt today, tomorrow you’ll make sure we head on our way.'

You don’t have the mind or heart to say anything else to it, for it grows silent as the spikes rip from the sides of your face, you bite of a tortured yell as the spikes rip off chunks of skin and flesh, clawing at the ground with, thankfully, soothing, perfectly regular fingers and nails, albeit cracked, you feel someone take their hand in yours, and you crack open an eye, carefully aware of the blood dripping down your face from the half removal of the heart shaped mask and the thrum of thunder replacing the cold in your veins with boiling, protective warmth.

Time.

“You shouldn’t be up already.”, you rasp, looking over his wounded form, healed by Hyrule, you shakily take your left hand to keep prying at the Majora’s Mask, only for him to take it gently in yours, you taste blood, the petrichor of the Lost Woods mist and pine on the back of your mouth, chasing the rot of Majora away.

“It’s nothing, we both know I’ve had worse.” He says, firmly shaking his head. His scarred eye is open, ivory like bone, the markings more vibrant and prominent with the ferocity of a god, he looks tired, and you attempt to speak, to apologize, to voice your worry because you knew channeling the deity without a conduit was a bad idea, before coughing, shaking from the aftermath of your reckless, reckless plan.

(You unfortunately can’t say you regret it much, though, when you silently bear the combined brunt of Time and Fierce Deity’s care once you reach camp and the protective way they act towards you. Even though Majora is long gone much to your resigned exasperation, and the rest of your boys amusement, but that is for much, much later.)

Time gently hums, it rings through you like thunder as he holds you close, tapping your neck in a rhythm you could recognize in your sleep for when he was about to pull arrows, blades or shrapnel from your skin, or was ready to have it done to himself, you immediately loosen yourself as much as possible, gripping his hand tightly as he rips the rest of the Majora’s Mask off, inert and lifeless as when you’ve both woke up from a new day, he holds you close as you try to breathe, reassuring himself you’re still here, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Please.” He pleads, begs, prays. He can't lose you too.

And you can’t help it, you smile as you cry crimson and russet tones from your eyes, holding him back as close as you dare to. He doesn’t hate you, you’re sure you’re going to soon participate in the argument of a lifetime. But Link doesn’t hate you, doesn’t see you as a monster any more than you could ever see him as anything but the kind companion you always knew.

So you let yourself nod, helpless to say no to him for anything really. And allow yourself to breathe, you’re both going to be alright.

[good-beanswrites]

Haruka getting possessed and while he is he’s causing chaos and he throws Shidou like a rag doll

👀👀👀 Ohhh this got my brain spinning... (I went for ghost possession scene before hearing your angel/demon thoughts, but both have so much potential omg) Thank you for the ask pal!!

Shidou rolled over in his sheets, perfectly prepared to continue sleeping until the shadow staring at him from outside his cell jump started his pulse.

His hand instinctively shot to the side of the bed before he realized he wasn’t in his home, and this wasn’t an intruder. “Wh-what –” the hell? “What is the matter?” Thanks to years of practice his voice stayed entirely steady.

There was only silence in reply.

He placed a palm on his chest, taking a steady breath. He squinted at the shape of the silhouette against the bars. “Kusunoki-kun, is that you? Is everything alright?”

Her head shook. 

“...Okay. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He got out of bed, looking around for his first aid kit.

“It’s Haruka-kun,” she said, her voice hushed. It was as if she were afraid to be heard, but they both knew the warden was asleep by now.

“Is he injured?” It was a good sign that Muu hadn’t seemed frantic, but middle of the night doctor calls were never good. 

“He… hasn’t been himself. The way he’s acting, the things he’s doing…” She paused, trying to choose her words. “Muu is scared…”

Grabbing his supplies, Shidou joined her in the doorway. He placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s always frightening when someone you love is going through this. Depression and stress often cause people to act in strange ways. They seem like they’re entirely different people.”

Muu shook her head again, this time with more urgency.

“Shidou-san. Do you…” she looked like she was getting up her courage. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” He blinked. “If Sakurai-kun is saying it was something otherworldly that hurt him, he probably wants to spare you the pain of the truth. That he –”

“– That wasn’t Muu’s question!” She clasped her hands together, looking over her shoulder at the empty panopticon. “Do you believe they exist?”

Shidou frowned. He wasn’t the spiritual type. As any grieving man, he’d catch glimpses of his son around the prison now and then. It was a natural, neurological response to the guilt and distress they were under – even Kazui admitted to thinking he saw his wife around the dark corridors. 

Shidou opened his mouth to reply. 

A scream echoed into the dark. Yuno’s. 

Muu ran into Shidou’s cell as he tried to leave, pushing him back. “It’s not him!” She cried as Shidou tore himself away. “It’s not Haruka!”

He burst out, making it only a step or two before he froze.

Haruka stood a few feet away, an arm raised post-strike. Yuno scrambled away from him on the ground. She made it to her feet, running to Shidou. She had no visible injuries, but her eyes had never looked so panicked before.

“I just wanted to help. I saw him struggling and I just – and he –”

Muu’s arm reached out from the cell and pulled Yuno inside. Shidou let her go, turning his attention back to Haruka. The others were just coming to their doors to see what the screaming had been about. 

“Friends… All these friends…” Haruka’s breathing was heavy. Shidou cursed himself for letting Muu’s words cloud his judgment, but it truly did sound as if it wasn’t his own voice, as if he were playing a part. “All these friends and it still wasn’t enough? Greedy… You’re so greedy…”

Psychological breaks look different in everyone, Shidou reminded himself. Haruka was scared. That was why he hit Yuno. That was why he was speaking strangely now. He was doubting who was friend or foe and lashing out regardless. Shidou had seen this countless times. 

He didn’t know why he felt the need to rationalize things.

“Why…” The boy was hugging himself. “I was your friend… so why?”

Shidou stepped forward. Haruka’s head snapped up to look at him. “Stay back!”

“Sakurai-kun, it’s alright. I’m going to come a bit closer.” He placed the first aid kit on the ground, showing Haruka his empty hands. “I’m not going to harm you. It’s dark, so I would like to get a good look at you. I want to be sure –”

Haruka howled with laughter. It was unbearably bitter, and quickly dissolved into more heaving breaths of rage. “That’s what this has always been about! You want to look? LOOK!”

The floor beneath Shidou trembled. The lights in the panopticon flickered. The guard’s tower in the center, which had laid dormant along with Es, now rumbled to life. The huge spotlight moved on its own. It flashed through the room, the blinding beam landing on Haruka.

He certainly didn’t look like himself, either. His eyes were wild, and the light reflected oddly in them. His body was held with more confidence. More anger. His frown twitched, as if he wasn’t used to using those muscles in that way.

Shidou was having a harder time rationalizing things. 

“I just want to help you.”

“That’s all I ever wanted!” He shrieked. He balled his hands into fists. “All I ever wanted was to be there for him! And look what happened to me!”

 He screamed once, and the prison bell rang along with him. It shouldn’t have been ringing at this hour.

Then, a sudden calm settled over him. His arms dropped at his sides. The tower light flickered once, then shut off. The prison was plunged into complete darkness. The others, who’d been watching in stunned silence from a distance, gasped.

“It’s what will happen to you, too.”

It was the last thing Shidou heard before he felt something slam into him from the side. His feet left the ground. Haruka hadn’t laid a hand on him, nor would he have the strength to throw him like that, and yet he careened through the air until connecting with the guard’s tower.

His head throbbed. He couldn’t draw himself up. He groaned in pain. The prisoners called to him, and he heard running footsteps.

Shidou made a sound of protest as Haruka’s hands wrapped around his throat. 

Not-Haruka spoke again. “If I wasn’t good enough for him, no one is.” 

“You won’t look at him ever again.” 

[smiles-ocs]

Some art for this story. Ronan is a babyyyyyyy

[spider-man-2o99]

miguel voice Well. guess im an enemy of the state now. shocksake .

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

meadowsweet

[fiepige]

Venom!Hobie Cat-Symbiote AU!

Okay so I might have made an AU of my AU...

It's based on my Venom!Hobie au but with a slightly (?) lighter tone in the sense that Hobie actually gets along well with his symbiote. Though they initially mostly get along due to shared mutural trauma... (But more about that later)

This version of the symbiote is more animalistic and usually communicates with Hobie through emotions- sorta projecting its own emotions and feelings towards him to let him know how it feels about something, though it might also communicate via single words or short sentences but that's pretty rare.

So, I'll do like I did in my original Venom!Hobie post and focus on the Design first:

Since they get along the symbiote feels safe around Hobie and thus it'll often "extend" itself outside of him and take the shape of a (freaky looking) cat - Kinda like how VENOM is able to partially seperate itself from Eddie while still being tethered to him:

Like this but they actually get along and the symbiote looks kinda like this:

(Once again- I CANNOT draw but the brainrot is stronger so I need to share this)

(I didn't draw the symbiote goo that would extend from it to tether it to Hobie but it's there I swear!)

Since this is Spider-Punk's symbiote I wanted some of the spikes to carry over in this design

I haven't quite decided if it should have the "running-mascara" look (buttom drawing) for its eyes like Spider-Punk's mask has or not so lemme know what you guys think?

The spikes are used as a way for it to communicate to others as a way to make its body language more expressive (though it only shows itself around people it really trusts so it rarely uses them as it still just communicates its emotions directly to Hobie when it needs to)

And like with Venom!Hobie the spikes are reminiscent of symbiote teeth

When it's relaxed/happy the spikes will be pressed down towards its body - making it easy to pet- if somebody would dare approach it that is

Hobie pets it a lot as it usually sits on his shoulder when he walks around (when there's nobody around that is)

The symbiote is still made of the same goo as regular symbiotes so it does not feel like petting a cat at all- Hobie doesn't mind but most other people find it rather unpleasant to touch

The "fuzzy" look is just the symbiote goo trying to imitate cat fur

The reason the symbiote takes this form is partially because it's more animalistic and likes physical affection (from people it trusts, it will bite your hand off if it doesn't like/trust you and you try to pet it) and partially because Hobie is a cat person and it used it as a method to make Hobie like it more when they first "met" + petting it helped Hobie calm down and still does

It's gotten pretty good at mimicking cat noises including purring

It'll usually stay on Hobie's shoulder or sit in his lap like this, it's still tethered to him so it can't go that far without him - not that it really wants to anyways

If it likes someone it'll rub itself against their legs and mimic purring noises

Okay now we move on to the

Origin:

This is my current headcanon for this AU but as always feel free to share your thoughts/ideas/inputs if you have any <3

Hobie and the symbiote "met" at one of Oscorp's labs

Hobie was living as a homeless teen (13-14 years old having escaped an abusive household a few months prior) and was captured by Oscorp to be used for their symbiote experimentations

Hobie was an easy target as he had just been bitten by the radioactive spider a few hours prior and thus he was starting to suffer from the fever the bite gave him

Hobie was to be fused with a new kind of symbiote

The symbiote had been made to make people more susceptible to orders- making them less inclined to think for themselves

But in order to make that possible the symbiote had been put through some rather painful and extreme experiments- making it more "dead" than alive at this point

When it's fused with Hobie, who's still very sick at this point, the spider bite is still working its magic on Hobie's body and thus it also partially heals the symbiote

Both Hobie and the symbiote are terrified of their situation as they're put in holding cells made specifically for symbiotes.- Their only comfort is each other.

The symbiote takes on the cat like appearance to soothe Hobie after being subjects to a particularly bad experiment

Since Hobie's gotten powers from both the spider bite and the symbiote they quickly become the subjects for many inhumane and painful experiments as the scientists futilely try to figure out how to replicate the symbiote (as they're unaware of the spider bite, thinking the symbiote alone is behind Hobie's new powers)

Due to the symbiote Hobie develops a taste for human flesh

And he gets his first taste of it as he manages to escape the lab during one of their many tests- killing as many guards and scientists on their way out as possible. (This is also the first time they fully transform into Venom!Hobie)

He would later return and burn the lab down completely.

As a result of their treatment at the lab + Hobie's past with his abusive family, both him and the symbiote have developed a deep distrust to other people.

Which is also why Hobie isn't trying to get rid of the symbiote, he considers it his only friend for a long time.

Hobie still loves playing music (which is also how he eventually makes new friends) but has had to make some adjustments due to the symbiote, thus he usually uses both earplugs and noise cancelling earmuffs when he's playing and even then he still gets migraines if he plays for too long or too loud

He still craves human flesh and will usually target cops or anyone associated with Oscorp to sate his hunger.

He doesn't feel bad about killing but will still try not to harm civilians (emphasis on try- sometimes the hunger gets the best of him)

He still operates as Spider-Punk but for a long time he's mostly fueled by his hatred for Oscorp and how they treated him and the symbiote

But as he slowly learns to open up to people he starts to shift his focus onto figting to help people and make the city safer (which means he'll still target cops and Oscorp employees but that's not his only focus anymore) (he also makes an effort to actually save civilians at this point)

Though due to the symbiote and their past this version of Spider-Punk is more prone to just straight up killing his villains (+ he still gotta eat right?)

But I'd like to imagine that this version of Hobie also finds his own community who help him out and accept both him and the symbiote

Giving them kind of a "happy" ending despite this version of Hobie being more messed up and unhinged...

Once again this turned out way longer than I intended lol (I just can't shut up about Venom!Hobie, the brainrot is real!)

Thank you so much for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

(And please let me know if you have any thoughts/inputs/questions about anything I wrote! The brainrot is real and I'll never get tired of talking about this guy)

Also click here if you wanna read more about my Venom!Hobie concept <3

[un-pearable]

george lucas handed an overwritten mess in and then the fandom + otherwise involved creators in the extended universe and other supplemental media have spent the last decades ritualistically dissecting it and reworking it’s constituent parts into some of the most fascinating worldbuilding you can get. and the average person has no knowledge of this and just watched disney completely fumble it within an hour and a half of their first title crawl in The Force Awakens and proceed to completely fall apart within the next 3 hours . and that’s just what star wars is to them

[sealrock]

decembhyur, day 16: journal

9th sun of the 1st umbral moon, 15XX

it was supposed to be a simple job: find the mark, take off her head as proof of the kill, bring it to these uppity inquisition people who'd rather eat chocobo shite than look me in the eye, leave with a sackful of gil. they had no clue she had a babe with her, and neither did I when I took this bounty. knowing this lot, they'd throw in an extra thousand if I got rid of the child. I've had my fill of killing women with children... why must the little children suffer unjustly? these people are no different than the corpse brigade, they just wear fancy robes and preach their holier than thou rubbish. I walked away empty-handed that day. well, not entirely. she said his name is achille.

when the woman—an elezen named tauvane—discovered my intentions, she looked... how can I say it? she was more savage than human, with her claws and brute strength. she put up quite a fight: she had the strength of damn near twenty men. she nearly ripped my face off before she slammed me into a nearby boulder to make her escape. I took note of unnatural black growths trailing along her arms and legs, much like a dragon's scales. her hair was matted and filthy, and her eyes screamed distrust and panic, like a wild animal backed into a corner. she was by the river with the babe; I managed to catch up with her just before she plunged him in the rushing water. whether it was a cruel act of survival or sparing her child from the hands of her homeland, I cannot say. she was dealt with an unfortunate hand in life, that much I can tell. whatever crime or crimes she committed had the inquisition desperate enough to seek outside help. but I couldn't go along with the plan. I pitied her, I pitied the child clutched to her chest and swaddled in tattered rags, his mewling cries muted by the driving rain. instead, I let her escape... but she left achille in my care. she said he'd be better off with me, and that she'll return for him 'when the time is right.' and just like that, she dashed away into the trees with a speed I never witnessed before. I couldn't stand there and gawk, however. I needed to find shelter. as I write this, achille is sound asleep on my bed. I found temporary respite in this hunting village called tailfeather, and I leave on the morrow. apparently tauvane stayed around these parts, but the locals were unaware of her bounty when they allowed her a safe haven before she gave birth. rhalgr's cock, I never expected to become a father again, not after... what happened in ala mhigo. he's not a replacement for the son I lost. I have too much blood on my hands as it is. the families I killed for the sake of the king, they torment me. I cannot pass this fate onto him. he's too young to be separated from his mother, she made a mistake. besides that... he's very ill. I don't have the proper medicines to help him. he may not make it by next sennight. maybe I should have put the two out of their misery when I had the chance. I'll leave him here in the village, there's a woman that's able to nurse him. he'll be better off here.

24th sun of the 1st umbral moon, 15XX

... I found myself unable to leave this child behind. it's been roughly a fortnight since tauvane entrusted her son to me, and she hasn't returned to tailfeather. I fear she must have perished in the storm. but to happy tidings: the healers here saved achille's life with their folk magicks. it was then that I learned he was half-blooded; his ears were barely pointed, meaning his father was a hyur like me. I'm ignorant of ishgardian politics, but if the whispers of the healers are true, then achille would've lead a difficult life in tauvane's homeland. to condemn a child just for the manner of his birth, it sickens me. I'm relieved that he'll pull through, but... I can't bear to hold him, much less look at him. he's not my son, I am but a stranger to him. just before I said my final goodbyes, when I took a glance at him, I found him staring back at me. his eyes were the same shade as his mother, a brilliant red hue that reminded me of blood. it matched his fuzzy crown of dark red hair. he was quiet for a long while before he broke out into a smile. he smiled at me, someone he doesn't know. I am not his mother. I couldn't leave him. I am not his father, I doubt he ever knew his father. but he chose me as his provider, his protector. when he's old enough I will take my leave of this place, I am sure that is what tauvane wished for me to do. as of now, he's a little menace, and I say that with affection. he's incredibly curious about my hair. he won't stop tugging at my beard and braids with his mighty grip. he's so small that I can carry him with one hand. but I know he will grow into a strong young man someday... he and tyro would've been like brothers, if tyro had lived. my poor tyro. he will not replace the one I lost. but nevertheless, I believe what was destroyed can be rebuilt. what was cut down can grow again.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Wanted to draw but didn't wanna mess with anything that had pen pressure in it just yet, so here's some ms paint doodles done while I watched a manchild play lethal company

[threshie]

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 6

Mask(s)

Soft and sweet with just a hint of melancholic because 1.I'm tired and probably need a nap father than coffee, 2.I actually managed to make a pretty good mocha and the Anchorage LOZ animatic came onto my playlist before writing this and it kind of influenced my mood, and 3. I'm saving the usual Majora's Mask flare of angst for another prompt because I was having way too much fun dissecting the tragedy of the Hero of Time before sleep deprivation snatched the idea away which is usually my sign to pass the heck out and save the second option for when I have more energy lol.

For the Warriors fans, also Warriors is a disaster of an older sibling but we adore and appreciate him for it in this household, as always can be implied romantic or platonic between him and reader.

You were all but pinned down to the ground, brought down more effectively and unable to find the strength to get up.

Well, not literally, there were no enemies nearby, the chaos at camp had long since died down and there wasn’t anything much to do now that night had fallen, the heavens deigning to put all of it’s glittering jewels on display.

Were it any other day you’d probably focus more on appreciating it in full, the fire was crackling merrily, you were safe and had a full stomach and even with the ever present threat of the Shadow possibly deciding to ambush you all while most of your guards were down, you had your boys with you and the crisp autumn petrichor was a balm on your soul, weary from the journey.

Maybe it would be fine to rest for a little while.

And then the small figure clinging to you flinched, burrowing closer and holding onto your tunic like a lifeline. And awareness came to you like a smack over the head with a log, your fingers gently carding through blond locks as you hum gently. Weighting options and just how quietly you could move without bothering the precious Sprite at your side.

You had guessed Time had been a sweet kid, and you still wanted to lodge a formal complaint with the gods for writing such cruel fate for him because the man couldn’t catch a break and you’re not the only one to take it personally. But he was killing you here, this is how you die, with an adorable but oh so heartbreakingly sad little boy having fallen asleep leaning against you after telling you all sorts of stories about his extensive mask collection.

(You don’t know wether you want to cry, scream or laugh, Mask was so, so young. It breaks your heart, just a little.

Really, the deities of Hyrule must adore tragedies. Bastards.)

Sighing, you decide to compromise, gently keeping the Kokiri boy right where he is, fast asleep and with barely any nightmares as you hum and card your fingers through the spun gold strands, you brush your fingers through the last masks he fell asleep mid through telling the story of how he’d acquired. If you were careful surely you’d be able to reach his pack on his side so he wouldn’t worry later.

A pair of brown boots invade your vision, Warriors crouches down. You think you spot a flash of surprise on his eyes as he spots Mask napping on you, and then fond amusement of a big brother you knew he directed often towards Wind, tone low, “Well would you look at that, out like a light. It’s a rare honor for him to trust anyone like this.”

You chuckle a bit, shaking your head, “I can tell, he’s a good kid. I’ve barely met him for a day and I’d already take on an army for him.”

“Welcome to my world.”, comes Warriors dry response, though you both knew he was a hundred percent serious, his own mask quickly falling away as he gently picked up the Deku Sprout Mask to put it back in the small sprite’s pouch, hiding it’s confused, fearful sadness from your gaze (and it’s an effort, not to twitch, as your rage towards Majora gained even more kindling to burn) as the soldier handled it with the due solemnity of being one of the few Mask would allow to even touch the masks without his immediate supervision, “... I never thought I’d see him again, as...”

“I know.” Your tone was quiet, as you carefully picked your choice of words.

If there’s one thing you knew about any Link, is that they’re all really good elder brother’s and that they are too hard on themselves. Warriors specially, Mask and Wind were his everything, there wouldn’t be words that could describe how gutted he was, after confirming his suspicions with you, regretting not saying anything against Mask joining the battle field back then, loathing himself for not convincing him or Lana into letting him stay in spite of his bad feeling that as soon as the young hero of time passed through that portal he was unlikely to ever meet him again.

... You settle for something simple, instead, reaching a hand to softly pat his head, taking care not to mess his hair too much, “You did good, Wars, it’s not your fault. Mask also knows you did your best.”

He still, sighing, the mask falling away as he guides your hand to his lips, quietly thankful (really, like big brother like little brother, your wonderful, silly, caring boys. You make a point to cheerfully bat away the butterflies in your stomach, ), “... Feels hard to believe that, some times. Thank you.”

You hum, after putting the Zora mask away, Warriors takes Mask’s other side, pulls you closer and breathes.

(Just in case, he lies to himself.)

You quietly listen to his stories about his little brother, and Warriors is content.

[cathymee]

maybe it's to maintain a sense of tension & turmoil that would eventually reach an explosive peak, a sense of tug-of-war, a back-and-forth to hammer home the ideals they want to deliver and for the viewers to chew on, but although these arguments regarding hiroshi & his stance as a man torn between his loyalty for his country & the loyalty for his Filipino friends and lover is of course important, how they write these scenes & the points they present from this week alone is getting too repetitive...? literally the argument scenes from last night & tonight between adelina & hiroshi is basically the same; the ideas were the same, the dynamics were the same: the aggressive, radical adelina, bristling rage and fear over the injustices she's seen thus far, and the cautious, inspiriting hiroshi, all hopefulness and reassurance one moment as a lover, defensiveness and sternness as a japanese soldier in another. this debate will be ever-present ofc, it is one of the series' biggest conflicts, but it is unfortunately so easy to tell when it is a.) being pulled up as a main topic to move the plot along / be a necessary conflict for character development/introspection / be the conflict to deliver the morals & messages the writers want to send to their viewers, or b.) when it is being pulled up only for the drama and filler to pass the time. like watching the characters sit down to argue for 10 minutes, do other things for the plot for 2 minutes, then sit down again to argue for the next 20 minutes. lol.

[cerealmonster15]

Jamil: uggghhh azuls gonna be so critical and picky when he judges my food 😒

Azul when he judges Jamil’s food:

[praises u heavily praises u heavily praises u heavily praises u heavily praises u heavily praises u heavily prai