#i know someone else already made some but i want to get my hyperfixation and my special interest together okay

[disposal-blueeee]

got some of my jake art reblogged recently and i find it funny because right now i draw this man like this

( by right now i mean like 2 months ago this drawing is old

i'm sure i can draw him better like , actually right now . it's been so long since i drew him which is funny because he's my favorite character and i would die for him

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

[kamaluhkhan]

THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 

“what? n-no!” 

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 

it just didn't seem fair. 

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 

every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.” 

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 

“she deserved more.” 

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do. 

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.” 

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 

luke bristled at your nickname for him. 

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 

 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.” 

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse. 

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.” 

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?” 

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?” 

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 

everything was falling into place. 

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 

 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet. 

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated. 

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 

would you hate him, if you knew? 

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

[junabuggy]

Okayy so I’ve done something similar but I wanted to see it from someone else but it’s Creepy pasta room head canons !!! I don’t mind who you do but I would love to see Jack’s most of all !! Thank you <3

Creepypasta room headcanons

A/n: At the beach rn with family.. sighhh I hate the beach (._.) BUT I LOVE THIS REQUEST !!! LMK IF YALL WANR A PART TWO (^_-)☆

Includes: Jeff, Ej, Toby, BP and Nina :333

Warnings: None

「 ✦ Jeff ✦ 」

🔪✮ MESSY ASS ROOM and it does NOT smell all that great tbh 😭😭

🔪✮ Has zero shame about it too, you come to hang out in his room he'll just kick stuff to the side and shove stuff off the bed casually.

🔪✮ Posters all over the walls, most of them are of bands he enjoys (He stole most of them 💀)

🔪✮ Jeff has a knife collection so he has a little setup for them :3

🔪✮ ALSO!!!! Side headcanon he fucking loves MSI (The song "This Hurts" by them is literally him chat)

🔪✮ There's a window in his room by his bed that you can use to get to the roof of the manor, it's actually got a pretty damn good view too

🔪✮ Has a mini fridge in his room beside his bed that has drinks in it

🔪✮ Mostly energy drinks and Pepsi with like, a singular water that'll never get drank.

🔪✮ Probably doesn't have sheets on his bed.. the mattress is full of mysterious stains

🔪✮ Musty BEAST (I love him)

「 ✦ Eyeless Jack ✦ 」

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 Jacks room doesn't smell all that great either.. he keeps all his organs to munch on and such in there.

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 There really isn't much there tbh, just the essentials to have in a bedroom.

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 A bed, a wardrobe, chair and a desk with an old computer on it..

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 Oh and a few shelves with one big window that he usually keeps closed ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 His flooring is a grey-ish carpet and his walls are painted black

👁️‍🗨️𖤐 Kinda boring, ik 😭

「 ✦ Toby ✦ 」

🪓☆ Chaotically clean room, bro is a maximalist to the extreme (^o^)

🪓☆ ‼️‼️ He yearns to collect ‼️‼️

🪓☆ there's a few shelves with trinkets he's collected over the years on them (≧ω≦)

🪓☆ Posters, banners, stickers, drawings and records littered eevveryywhere on the walls and ceiling of his room (maybe this is just projecting because thats witterly my room ☝️)

🪓☆ Has the glow in the dark star stickers on his ceiling for sure

🪓☆ His room is MUCH bigger than the other proxies, has everything he needs and more

🪓☆ I mean, he has a little couch in there that has a big stuffed animal on it and a bug blanket (His hyperfixation is bugs, if you couldn't tell /silly 🪲🪲 )

🪓☆ He spends a shit ton of time in his room because it's genuinely super cool

🪓☆ Has a Tv mounted on his wall in the corner !!

🪓☆ Oh and he has a guitar in his room that he l can't play, he just thinks it looks cool o_O

「 ✦ Bloody Painter ✦ 」

🎨꩜ VERY CLEAN ROOM. AND VERY PARTICULAR ON HOW HE KEEPS THINGS.

🎨꩜ Don't mess with any of his shit without permission first and you'll be fine 🙏

🎨꩜ Has some of the normal (Ones that he doesn't use blood in, he keeps those safe.) paintings, drawings and sketches he's made on his wall behind his easel in the corner of his room :33

🎨꩜ I also think he likes to write!! So maybe some poetry is on his wall as well in that little corner ^_^

🎨꩜ Almost the entirety of his back wall is window which he loves

🎨꩜ HAS PLANTS !!!! 🌱🪴

🎨꩜ Has a nice desk to draw on with a comfortable chair. Theres a nice smelling candle on it with a few books and a lamp (●＾o＾●)

🎨꩜ Also owns the most??? Comfortable?? Blankets?? EVER????? Amazing textures, NO SHERPA <(｀^´)>

🎨꩜ Has a drawer thingy dedicated to his art supplies (Which is also very organized, btw)

🎨꩜ HE HAS A RECORD PLAYER. YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.

「 ✦ Nina ✦ 」

🪱ᰔ SHES A SCENE GIRL!!! ROOM IS SCENE!!!

🪱ᰔ Like holy shit it's so colourful ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

🪱ᰔ LOTS and LOTS of homemade stuff stuck on her walls along with various other things, there's stuff everywhere

🪱ᰔ Now you already know she owns a gir blanket and a gir backpack, like cmon (灬ºωº灬)♡

🪱ᰔ Collection of stuffed animals !! Some on her bed and some in a hanging net in the corner above her bed

🪱ᰔ Has LED lights and there's no windows in her room

🪱ᰔ Has a nice desk with a computer on it and trinkets, her keyboard lights up rainbow ☆´∀｀☆

🪱ᰔ Her wardrobe and closet are FULL. She has like, so many cool clothes, belts and accessories

🪱ᰔ Convinced slender to let her paint her walls funky and cool !!

🪱ᰔ Soooo her walls are purple and she painted on with a smaller paint brush cheetah print all over them :3 (She's an icon and I love her dearly)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲

[teddybeartoji]

mickey i need ur thoughts on jjk men (esp satoru) helping out and showing love for their partner with autism

like uuuuuuuu i was thinking abt toru keeping a pair of his sunglasses with him hust in case youre visually overwhelmed. ORRRR him teleporting you to a quieter space when he notices that theres too many complex sounds that are upsetting you.

ughhhhh like imagine one of them remembering that pressure is soothing for you and js puts their full body weight whenever you come back home from a bad day.

GUHHHH them keeping candles of your favorite scents and alwaya makes sure to keep your safe foods stocked up whenever you visit

OH NOW I'M REALLY KISSING YOU GRAY MY BELOVED!!! THIS IS SUCH A WONDERFUL LITTLE ASK WAHHH I GOT SO GIDDY

i agree with everything you said!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! now i know that every single one of them would do anything and everything to help you out!! but i did pick some things out that really made me think of them!!! anyway hello my fellow autistic ppl this one is for you all i love you very very much<333

satoru 100% carries extra sunglasses with him and i think he'd actually carry his black blindfold aswell. obvs he's not gonna make you wear it as you're moving through public but he'd lead you to a quiet spot and then just let you have a moment. he's either sitting you down next to him or he's holding you against his chest, protecting you from every single ray of light that could possibly make it any worse for you. bc honestly... sunglasses are sometimes just not enough for me personally. i've had my fair share of times where i just have to cover my eyes with my hands bc it just hurts so much.

we all know that satoru is a big yapper but i know he needs his quiet time too. i think he would love to just Do Nothing with you in complete silence. maybe you're both just taking a nap together, maybe you're just laying in the sun out in the park. maybe you're resting your head on his lap, maybe he's resting his on yours. it's all just about gentle touches and looks.

he loves it when you ramble and he's literally your biggest hypeman!! he's ready to spend all of his fucking money on you and any fucking equipment you could ever need. you want a new game or a new console? they're both already waiting for you at home. you want to start drawing? he has already ordered a tablet for you to practise on. you want to get into photography? he's buying you a camera and three different lenses. he wants you to be happy and he wants you to be able to do everything you could ever possibly want. he's just the sweetest guy ever i am crying rn actually:((

he's the best little autism bf btw. bc he gets it. he understand. he knows. he knows all about the light sensitivity. he knows all about the difficulty of eating "normal" foods, always munching on candy and snacks bc that's just easier. he knows about the fidgeting, he knows about the innate need to have somebody lay on top of you. he knows about the rambling and the hyperfixations. he knows about the confusing social clues and the ridiculous differences of speaking tones. he knows about the eye-contact problems - whether you're someone, who struggles to keep it or you're someone, who can't tear your eyes from everybody else just like him - he understands! he knows about being straighforward and speaking exactly what's on your mind and then being scolded for it. he knows about Not Really Understanding personal space. he truly does understand and he's ready to do anything and everything to help you cope with Life.

toji is theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee best weighted blanket and i stand by that. he's so fucking huge and he's so fucking heavy - he's perfect. he's gonna tease you about it but just a little!! you tug him by his hand and he gladly takes his place on top of you bc let's be honest... he's gonna love it, too. he's protecting you! he's taking care of you in a way that doesn't need words! he's trying his best! and if this is what you need - he is going to do it!!!

also with the light and sound sensitivity - he'd gladly pull you into his chest and cover your eyes with his big ass palm. and it would feel soo comforting wtf. the weight of it and just the fact that it's him?? fuck, i know it'd be so good. or your ears. he's placing them on your ears, muffling the overwhelming sounds while cradling you and wahh:(( he'd make you feel so safe.

suguru and shoko and parallel play. it's amazing. they will read a book while you're gaming. or suguru's painting while you're reading. or shoko's having her morning smoke and coffee while you're doing your skincare (i'm sorry i just can't get out the beautiful picture of her sitting on the little windowsill of your bathroom, a cig inbetween her fingers and a cup of coffe in her hand. no words are being spoken - it's just the sound of the birds outside, the water running and her gulping down her little espresso. thank you for listening.)

or suguru's doing his little home workout routine as you're crocheting. or it's you and shoko just laying on your shared bed scrolling on your phones in silence. could literally be whatever. they're gonna glance at you every once in a while, they're gonna ask how you're doing, how you're feeling and then they're gonna give you a tender smile and a kiss on your cheek and continue on. i'm melting just thinking about it.

suguru is obviously also going to be there for you if you have sleeping problems. he understands them all too well and he's pulling out all the stops to help you fall asleep (and himself). he's gonna make the tea one night and you'll make it the next night. it's equal. maybe you're also going to take a lovely little bath together, you'll giggle exhaustedly as you both slur out very stupid jokes and after that you'll both climb under the covers and take turns in listening to each others heartbeats and (hopefully) fall asleep.

shoko and sarcasm. she definitely makes a lot of sarcastic jokes and comments and she'll be a bit confused at first when you just blurt out the good-old "i don't know whether you're joking or not". but i think she'd find it super cute. she'll still occasionally make the comments but she'll make sure to check in whether you got it or not. i think she would tease but she'd do it very lightly (she definitely cackles when satoru doesn't understand sarcasm though lmao but you're her baby and she doesn't want you to feel bad). and i think she would love if you made terrible sarcastic jokes. like she would laugh until there are tears prickling in her eyes and you'd still be like ????? i don't understand and then she'd laugh even more. she's so cute.

kento is always ready to cook for you. he understands how hard it can be, how overwhelming it can be. he doesn't mind it a bit. i truly think this would be good for the both of you! he loves to cook and it's such a relaxing thing for him, and it's even better now that he knows he can see you fill your cheeks with delight. he needs you to eat well and he will make sure you do!

i also think that he's so patient with you and he'd never ever make you feel like you have to speak with him. he buys little plushies that you can turn inside-out, a pink side and a blue side - indicating how you're doing on the Speaking department that day. and these tiny interactive pins and you can express whatever you're feeling without ever speaking a word. he never pressures you in any way, always just reward you with more reassurance and a kiss to your temple.

he's ALSO the best listener. like he never talks over you. never. not even on an accident???? it's a superpower i think. he let's you talk at your own pace and he just stares at you with very soft eyes:((

wait i also think that shoko, utahime and yuki would gladly speak for you. in a sense of if you have social anxiety or you stutter or anything like that, they'd easily take up the task of ordering for you! they literally have all of your orders remembered and everything.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Hello Hello! Can I get Dirt Cake with a lemonade please?

( Congratulation Sheep! and I hope this Event runs smoothly for you💖-Jan)

Hello Jan! ☆

Ahhh thank you so much for your order! ♡ And thank you so much for your kind words! I got excited when I saw your order was for Idia (as he's my favorite lol) so thank you! I hope you enjoy! ♡

This is part of an event I'm doing where people can request stories by placing orders! For more information, please refer to this post! ♡

⋆ 𝓘𝓭𝓲𝓪 𝓢𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓭: 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼𝔂 ⋆

One dirt cake and a lemonade, coming right up! ♡

⋆ Being with Idia, you both had media you were into. Shows that you loved and held close to your heart, movies you would rewatch every once in a while, games you adored and played daily. Even if you weren't into the same genre or liked the same franchises, you cared about each other's interests, taking turns talking about whatever game or character you were hyperfixating on while the other listened.

⋆ If you played gacha type games, he would understand, comforting you when you didn't get the character or card you wanted. You would do the same for him as well, knowing how determined he is to get his favorite characters (no matter the cost). He would surprise you with in game currency or merch of your favorite characters, things you mentioned offhand or items he noticed you wanted through observation. He was observant when it came to you, to your likes and interests.

⋆ A new game coming out in the franchise you like? He already has it pre-ordered. A figure of your favorite character releasing due to a limited time promotion? He bought it as soon as the website made it available for purchase. Your favorite snacks are on sale, or you had a bad day? Expect a delivery driver at your door with your comfort food and snacks, already paid for.

⋆ Of course, there were games you played together that you considered "your games". Games were you could co op, working together to complete a goal. Games were you didn't have to play in person, having gaming dates were you played and talked to each other through a call. There were also shows you considered to be "your shows", always watching the latest episodes together.

⋆ Matching icons online, matching phone charms of characters you like. It was just some of the ways he showed he cared for you, even bragging about you to his online gaming buddies. Though, he couldn't help how he would get jealous sometimes, noticing you laughing or gushing about characters with people other than him. They could be online friends you have, talking with them over a call. He would sink lower into his gaming chair, doing his best not to focus on the conversation you were having behind him.

⋆ He was happy you had found others interested in the game you like, but he noticed how you started gushing to them rather than him recently, feeling out of the loop when you mentioned loving a character he had never heard of. How it seemed you were paying more attention to them than to him, smiling whenever they replied back and eager to respond. It would be this jealousy that would cause him to do heavy research on the franchise in question, wanting to be able to talk with you about it. For you to know that you can talk to him about these things, like how you've always listened to him.

⋆ Plus, he's your boyfriend. He can easily help you through any game, no problem. He is an expert, after all. No need to go to someone else when you can just co op with him. The only exception is Ortho, he can co op with you guys too. But the person at the game store being a bit too friendly as he asked for your friend code, or the person online who keeps complimenting you over game chat when they join your world? Nope, no way, not a chance.

⋆ Whenever he would get jealous you would always reassure him, making sure he knew how much you loved talking with him, whether it be in person, through a call, or text messages. That there's no one you'd rather game with, or watch your favorite shows and movies with. No one you'd rather be with. You were his player two, after all ♡

I hope you enjoyed your meal, and thank you for visiting the Cathie Cafe! ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[compassionatereminders]

Hi! I wanted to answer the anon who was asking about what ADHD meds do & don’t help with as someone who was late-diagnosed and started meds this year. However, the effect of ADHD meds and even experience of ADHD itself varies heavily from person to person, so do keep that in mind!

DO:

- Actually hearing and retaining what people are saying. I was never able to fully experience a college lecture without panic because of only hearing bits and bobs of the lecture, going in one ear and out the other. I can truly focus and actually respond to what people are saying in a single line of thought without desperately trying to stimulate myself as much as possible to maybe get 1/2 of the detail to stick in my brain.

- Time blindness!! At first starting meds it felt like the day went for 500 years. I felt so much slower and mentally calmer, and I was able to complete “simple” tasks in under 15-20 minutes that could normally take me up to 3 hours due to distractions.

- Memory! Off my meds I have an enormously hard time remembering anything I’m trying to accomplish. I bounce from task to task without ever finishing it. On meds I’m able to think “I need to do laundry” and I just. Do the fucking laundry. It’s magical and I’ve cried more than once thinking about how much I’ve spent my life thinking I’m stupid or lazy for not being able to “just do the thing” like everyone else.

- Shutting down/fearful procrastination— I would be stuck doing nothing for days and days because I would want to do a task so badly but overly think about it and essentially paralyze myself in the decision making/getting started process. When I’m on my meds I can just do the fucking thing! Even if I don’t really feel like it! When before I practically had to have the exact perfect circumstance and could never create them, I can just plop myself somewhere and do the fucking thing. Just like I’ve been told all my life— “Even if you don’t want to, do it anyways” except now I have the actual ability to do that like everyone else. Before it was like everyone else was telling me to turn on a light, but I had no switch.

DON’T:

- Help with hyperfixation. Sometimes I can fixate even worse when I’m on my meds, just because my mind is so single stream that I’m able to do things for even more excessive periods. I burn myself out accidentally a lot quicker if I don’t provide myself with manual distractions to take breaks from daily/academic tasks.

- Immediately fix you. It was hard to start meds because I had to unlearn a lot of habits I had developed to cope with my undiagnosed ADHD— such as constantly moving, stimulating myself, having candy, etc. Just because the day became longer didn’t mean my time management became awesome either. I’m still working on tools that help ADHD with my meds!

- Not really a don’t but more so an unexpected side effect was becoming very intensely angry or upset when the medicine wears off. I struggle with emotional dysfunction already but the anger was so severe and I didn’t know that ADHD meds wearing off can cause that.

- Work 100% all of the time. Some days things like stress, poor sleep, poor diet, etc, can alter the way the same dose of meds works for you. Especially if you are nicotine dependent or a regular caffeine consumer, the way your meds work can change on a day by day basis. Some days I feel like the meds aren’t working at all, but more often than not there’s still a difference between myself being unmedicated and medicated.

- Instantly make you better at studying/task completion. Apparently having ADHD for years made me so extremely avoidant of many things that I just don’t have the skill set to do them well yet. Like studying, for example. I still struggle with extreme perfectionism that impedes me outside of ADHD paralysis.

- I’m gonna say it twice but they DONT FIX YOU ON THEIR OWN. Yes, they make your life fucking way better than before especially if you’re an adult with undiagnosed ADHD, but you have to learn how to use tools and learn skills to support yourself for the medication to help you to the max capability! I will definitely say that being on meds helped overhaul my mindset when I’m off meds and improved my perception of myself, but again, the meds can only get me so far!

I hope this helped anon!!!

Thank you for taking the time to share this! I hope anon sees it 💕

[asuyaka]

Hello there! It's the anon who made the Gojo x affectionate reader request, I have to say I absolutely love your writing, it's so adorable and wholesome!

Anyways, I wanted to make a similar request like the one I previously asked for, but with a different scenario- kinda.

So my prompt is that Reader is like Mitsuri(not female tho, but if you're ok with it maybe make them a bit effeminate? Like the soft boy aesthetic!), they are a 1st grader but have enough strength to beat even the strongest adult in Jujutsu High to the ground like a ragdoll, they're very sweet and affectionate and just precious in general. They are best friends with Gojo and Geto and were sent to deliver the Star Plasma Vessel with the boys since their strength and durability can put them in the same level as a Special Grade student.

Now here is where this whole scenario actually takes place; Reader somehow managed to enter the domain(?) that Suguru and Toji were fighting on, unfortunately they only manage to get to where they are after Toji had already defeated Geto and after seeing their best friend now bloodied and unconscious on the ground, Reader gets very pissed off and make it their personal goal to give Toji some righteous ass whooping for what he did to their friends and Amanai. And after they took care of Toji they took Geto and ran out of the domain before it could collapse on them.

Sorry if that's a long request! I like making my asks as detailed as I can and tend to go overboard, especially if it's about my current hyperfixations. I hope you' have a great day/afternoon/night! Also remember to stay hydrated and take breaks!😁

- Sincerely, 🌈 Anon.

★ - 'm so glad you liked it !! o(*////▽////*)q req's a tiny bit confusin' but 'm think 'm got the general gist of it!! :3

★ - 'm sorry but 'm wasn't exactly sure who the main character was, so 'm decided ta use em both cauze yanno they're right there!! ^_^

☆ - Teen! Satosugu x Male Reader — can be read as platonic or romantic!

♡ - Zuha's a bit silly n doesn't know how t'write fight scenes s'forgive 'im if it isn't suuuper good! ꒰#’ω`#꒱੭

This whole 'merging' with Riko was extremely taxing on you, Suguru, and Satoru, but it's almost over so you three can relax and play Digimon 'till you passed out!

"Uwaaa! I'm so tired..." You mutter, leaning on Suguru's shoulder as your group climbs the stairs leading to Tengen's barrier around Jujutsu High.

Riko beside you huffs. "You can at least pretend not to be!"

"I'm sure [Name] didn't mean anything by it." Kuroi smiles softly as the five of you finally reach the top of the stair way, safely inside Jujutsu High barriers.

You let out a sigh of relief. At first, you weren't entirely sure why you were put on the mission, you're only a first-grade sorcerer while Suguru and Satoru were special grades, but Yaga chalked it up to you being strong enough and your friends needing someone responsible to be with.

The mission took more out of Satoru than anyone else, you and Suguru were heavily aware of that. On Day Two, you stayed up with him the entire night, busying yourself with whatever videos you could find and an unhealthy amount of Sakura Mochi.

You hear Suguru tell Satoru he worked hard, and he did. Harder than the two of you could thanks to his technique. You make a mental note to yourself to treat the two of them to food when the merging is finally complete.

"I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat again." Satoru rolls his eyes, the blue glow that indicated he was using his Six Eyes dissipating.

You walk up behind him and hug Satoru from behind. "Goob job 'toru!" You make sure not to squeeze too tight, he was tired and you didn't want to make him physically hurt too.

The next thing that happens, hurts.

You feel something— it's sharp — enter your abdomen and exit through Satoru's sternum.

The two of you instinctively look back. You're inside the barrier which is supposed to protect you from any intruders, but obviously from the blood that's piling up your throat, it didn't.

Satoru uses a small version of Blue and Suguru uses a curse. It hurt, obviously. You couldn't use your technique to nullify it because it wouldn't do it's job of hurting the man behind you, so you let it pass.

You breathe to calm yourself and analyze your situation. Your eye is bruised, not blind but there is blood obscuring your vision. You definitely have internal bleeding, but it missed vital spots so you can suck it up and deal with it.

Satoru and Suguru are talking about something, but you're worried about Riko and Kuroi— some could argue that you should be worried about the hole in your stomach but your injuries come later, Riko and Kuroi need to be safe.

"Suguru, [Name], get them to Tengen-sama."

Suguru tenses, gazing between you three before nodding. "Be careful!"

You get up, internal bleeding be dammed, grabbing Riko's arm and running the other way with Suguru.

The bleeding of your eye gets worse with every step and you have to keep running despite coughing up blood more times than is healthy. Suguru looks back at you, worried, but you assure him you're okay.

You can't let Satoru down. You can't let Suguru down, so you force your body to deal with it— force your body to use RCT, something you know like the back of your hand due to your technique.

The four of you reach the elevator that leads to where Tengen stays. Suguru makes sure You, Kuroi, and Riko enter in first before pressing the button for the lowest floor.

"H-here!" Kuroi hands you a handkerchief to clean the blood off your hands. You mumble out a small "thanks" using it to wipe your face as well.

You're strong, you know that. Being a first grade while in the second year is an amazing feat, but fuck you were scared.

You're able to go through Satoru's Infinity just fine, but that's because of your technique. That man, whoever he was, shouldn't be. "Satoru's going to be fine, don't worry," Suguru says as if he can hear your thoughts, patting your arm for reassurance.

If Suguru says everything is going to be okay, then everything is going to be okay. You remind yourself to focus, focus, focus— because after this, you two will go help Satoru, and everyone will be fine.

The elevator stops and the four of you get out. You're beside Suguru and Riko and Kuroi trail behind you. All of a sudden, Kuroi stops.

She's crying and you can feel your heart breaking. This 'merging' thing was fucked up from the get-go. No kid should have to always have in the back of their mind that they're going to die, and there's nothing they can do to stop it.

"Suguru..." You mumble softly. You shouldn't be seeing this— it's private, meant to be between them. Suguru nods. He understands, he knows what's happening is messed up and he's going to do something about it, who cares what Tengen needs?

The walk is silent, unnervingly so but you're about to kill a kid. The thought makes your stomach churn but you do nothing about it. You're strong, you can deal with it.

"Suguru, I'm staying back." You say, hands pressed into a fist and your head hung low. You can't stomach the thought of willingly killing a kid— you won't forgive yourself even though you know you can't do anything about it.

Suguru doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. You were put on the mission last minute, and he knows how empathetic you are.

You watch them make their way to Tengen's territory and you feel sick. You feel sick to your stomach, hunching down and forcing yourself to calm down.

"focus, focus, focus." You say like a mantra to yourself, even though you're scared. You know how to focus if the situation is right, but you just feel nauseous.

You hear steps walking closer and your heart jumps. It's Satoru! Satoru did it and now he's coming back to show that he's a part of the strongest duo in the Jujutsu world.

"Damn. Didn't know they had security here."

Your eyes widen. That voice doesn't sound like Satoru, and it doesn't look a thing like him. It's that man, the same one that went through Satoru's Infinity.

You can see him clearly now thanks to the yellow fluorescent lights on the sides of the wall.

He's more muscular than you you can tell that easily. His hair is flat against his head with eyes that don't have any form of empathy in them, and with a scar on his lip.

You aren't scared, surprisingly, you're angry— fucking livid.

He killed Kuroi, a woman who was so nice, so grateful for the things she'd had in life, a woman who didn't deserve to die. He killed Satoru— he killed the people you care about.

You don't ask questions, you don't stare with your mouth open like a moron, you start fighting.

You're struggling to keep your emotions in check even though the first and basic rule of Jujutsu Sorcery is to not let your emotions get in the way.

The man, whoever he is, grabs your wrist, hastily pocketing his gun and grabbing a knife, stabbing it straight through your sternum and dragging it down to your hip line.

He takes it out, your blood staining his forearm. He switches the way he's handling it and stabs you through your throat.

Your vocal cords and blood vessels are in pain, but you can't yell, can't scream, can't do anything. Your body face-first falls limp on the floor, pushing the knife deeper into your throat to the point it comes out the back of your neck.

He stomps on your head for good measure, grabbing his gun and walking towards where Geto and Riko are.

You feel your heart slowing down as your blood leaks to your fingers. You're dead, you're dead if you don't do something—anything. Your eyes close and blood leaks out of your mouth. You're done for.

The sound of rubble falling wakes you up, your hand twitching before you lug yourself up, the front of your uniform stained with your blood as the energy from your subconscious RCT flares off your body.

You pull the knife from your throat. It stings, obviously, but you don't care about that.

You know for a fact now that Satoru, Kuroi, and Riko are dead. With every step, you hear more crashing and buildings getting destroyed.

Your eyes scan the area. You can feel the output from one of Suguru's stronger curses, it's faint, most likely due to distance, but it's definitely there.

Jumping from the platform, you hastily make your way to where the energy was coming from.

You're there— so close until the building fucking collapses.

Your heart drops when all the dust and smoke clears. Suguru is lying down— is he dead? Oh Suguru, please don't be dead — an 'X' on his torso his eyes are closed and that same fucking man is standing in front of him.

"Shit kid, just can't stay dead can you?" His grin pisses you off. It's full of teeth as his scar grows wider.

He notices your expression, holding back a snicker. It looks just like the curse-eater's when he realized Gojo died. "Might wanna close your mouth, you'll catch a flyhead in there." He snickers, putting the blade he had back into his cursed spirit and getting a smaller weapon with two blades on it.

You grab a weapon out of your back pocket. Your technique barely helps in hand-to-hand combat so you're used to carrying a weapon on you that you're used to using. Why you didn't use it the first time, you aren't sure yourself.

It's a decent-sized blade Yaga had made with the technique of a retired sorcerer. Hammerspace or something, you don't really care. All you need now is that man dead.

You throw the knife at him for a distraction. He deflects it, like you expected. You ducked behind him, your hands curled up into a fist as your hand connected with the blade of his sword.

You had to make this quick so you can tend to Suguru.

Not giving him any time to land on his feet, you grab your blade from the air switching the grip into a reverse hammer and brute-forcing your way through his hand.

The blood splatters on your cheek, grabbing the blade out and using your other arm to hit him from the side.

You take a second to breathe. His arm has a hole in it and he's breathing heavily. That cocky grin finally wiped from his face.

Every single bone in your body was telling you to kill him, to put an end to him right then and there for killing people who didn't deserve it— for killing teenagers.

But then you remember Suguru. Suguru who's lying on the floor somewhere, most likely bleeding out. That is what pulls you out of your anger-infused trance, turning your back to the man and rushing for Suguru.

He doesn't try and kill you, thankfully, but you notice Riko's body is gone.

Pushing all that to the back of your mind, Riko's dead body, her lifeless face— her life that was cut too short because she was born as a vessel, you find Suguru.

His breathing is there, very faint, but it's there. Immediately starting RCT on his body as tears brim your eyes. You're crying now, crying over all the things you should've cried about before but were too busy trying to keep yourself alive— not that you could die anyway, you do RCT subconciously.

"Suguru... Suguru, please open your eyes," Your voice wavers as his uniform gets damp with your tears.

You keep RCT going, pressing your ear where Suguru's heart is as his blood stains your face. You cry over the death of Satoru, you cry that you weren't able to save Kuroi or Riko, you cry about how you couldn't kill the man that would've killed most of the people you knew— most of the people you care about.

"[N-Name]...?"

Suguru's voice sounds so weak. It sounds horse, like he's dehydrated, but it's there— God, Suguru's alive.

"'m sorry- was too weak- 'm so sorry S'gu!" You wail as the tears fall harder, your decently muscular arms wrapped around his torso as you wait for him to berate you, to yell at you for not killing that man when you had the chance.

"[Name]— It's okay, I just... fuck, okay, listen, it wasn't your fault, alright? He had a heavenly pact and from what I can see, you at least caused him to bleed." Suguru's hand wipes the blood on your cheek, his thumb presses against the grass to get the blood from that monkey off him.

"I'll check on Satoru, so wait here, okay?"

You don't have the heart to say no to him. You're too weak, too mentally fatigued to stand up and see the corpse of someone else you loved, someone else you cherished.

So you watch Suguru leave, accompanied by wet sniffles and dry wails, you curl in on yourself and wait obediently for someone to come get you.

You don't know if you're hallucinating, but you swear you see a patch of dark blue hair, blood leaking from Riko's the person's head before you pass out.

[darling-i-read-it]

plsplspls can i request some norman fluff i am hyperfixating on him again 🫶🏼🥲

I was going to write this last night but got tired and have so many thoughts about norman that I wanted to be fully rested. Norman Bates you will always be famous to me bbg

Norman Bates makes me insane

If you want domestic life with a slasher, Norman is the closest you will get in my opinion. Aside from his mother, he truly is just the calmest man who gets anxiety with any kind of flirtation.

Say you meet at the diner when he goes out once. He's the town oddball. The kook. Everyone knows that after his mother died and the highway was moved, everything slightly altered in him

and you move into town and you get a job as a waitress and Norman is the nicest of your regulars. he always comes once a week to get out of the house, never stays for long because he has so much to do, and always gets the same thing.

"Eggs overeasy today Norman?" you tease. His cheeks flush as he goes to correct you, never once blaming you for potentially getting his order wrong.

"Oh u-"

"Scrambled Norman. I know, I was just pulling your leg." He flushes and smiles. He nods.

"Thank you." You maneuvered around him and to the back, dropping off his order. After he had cleared his plate he waited patiently for you to come around with his check. You always came in a timely manor and told him briefly about things that had happened over the week in town.

Today when you came back around, you had a particular smile on your face.

"Your breakfast is on me this morning Norman," you declared. He gave you a confused look. "On one condition." He cleared his throat, nodding for you to go one. "I get to come see your hotel and we have dinner over there."

a DATEEEE??????????

Norman Bates went a deep shade of red and then smiled. He had the most innocent smile on his face, you never would have guessed anything was wrong with him. In the moment he completely forgot about his mother.

he accepted gratefully, saying he would pick things up special. You promised to be by the next day around 5.

you came by the next day and Norman had never seen someone so beautiful. He saw you in your work clothes, your apron usually covered in the muck of your morning.

you were wearing something you thought date appropriate and he had gotten one of his better sweaters out of the back of his closet. One of the ones his mother had gotten for him to wear out.

He was cagey at the dinner.

You couldn't even glance up the stairs. He was already disobeying by having you in the house. But he wasn't cagey enough to deter you from having a good time.

Norman was shy but he had great conversation. All the people who came by his hotel made for great stories. You brought stories from the diner, from before you had moved out there

You noted he didn't have any help out there and he was clearly a busy man.

'Norman have you ever thought about hiring help?"

"Who would be my waitress?"

"I can make you eggs here!"

it was a bad idea. horrible even. Norman knew this but his desire to have you around was so strong, even if it wasn't technically safe for you. How long could he hold his mother back? What if he insured you were always here when someone else was, when there were people in the motel?

He started to try and find reasons to keep you around. Things that needed to be done but not necessarily as soon as he was having you do them.

You helped him paint the outside of the motel. You changed the bulbs in the sign. You got new linens and looked through the logbook for frequent fliers and silly fake names.

Norman couldn't shake it though. His mother would always be there to argue the worst of you. Even if you were helping him and not harming him, even if you hadn't made any actual move.

he wanted to kill his mother. but she was a shut in, she had no one else to help her! he was trapped in a cage of her making, one he could not leave. the dutiful son.

he made the first move. He wanted to kiss you silly since the first time he had seen you, imagining how your lips tasted in shameful nights.

You were helping him in the office. He was back in the parlor while you sat at the desk out-front. You had just checked in a couple, clearly people who were not currently married to each other.

They had used ridiculous fake names. Norman walked back to the front of the room. He looked particularly handsome, wearing a white button up shirt tucked in his slacks.

"If we were fake married, what would our names be?" you questioned. Norman took a bite of the apple in his hand and shrugged. He leaned against the desk.

"Mr and Mrs Disney," he suggested. You nodded slowly.

"Mr and Mrs Flinstone."

"Too one the nose. That show just premiered," he suggested." He looked over your shoulder at the log book. He had gotten so used to having you around, so comfortable with your presence. He liked imaginig the two of you as a married couple. The Bates Motel with two Bates once again.

"Mr and Mrs Disney it is," you teased. You looked up at him and he was so close, his face just hovering beside yours. You smiled cheekily.

Before you had even comprehended it, he had kissed you.

Norman wanted that life. He liked the idea of that life. Maybe his mother would be okay with it if you were married. Maybe he could sway her.

Without even knowing it, you had helped him muster courage to fight his mother. A problem you barely knew existed. You had heard her, you had thought it was weird you had never seen her, but you trusted Norman.

A ring on your finger would be so nice, he thought. So nice.

Finally put a cork in the townsfolks mouths.

Norman took a wife?

[givemea-dam-break]

Hello! I have read some of your fics and you are an amazing writer, I love your works, and since I saw you have request open for my current hyperfixation, I wanted to ask for some jealous Anthony Lockwood , thank you :)

a/n: yesssssss thank you i would absolutely love to write this! I'm so, so glad you like my writing! thank you for all your support <3

warnings: mild language gn reader

"Who are those flowers for?"

You look up from your book, curled up on the sofa in the living room, watching as Lockwood strides in. Something in your chest leaps at the sight of him, longing to watch his usual routine of pacing, then sitting and reading a magazine, but you fix your gaze back on the book in your lap. You've just started a particularly interesting chapter.

"Me."

There's a pause and a glimmer of tension in the air. "From who?"

"Ned Shaw."

Lockwood scoffs, and when you look up again, he's sitting, glaring at the cluster of roses stuffed in some random vase you found in one of the cupboards. They're a bright, blinding red on the window, bathed in golden sunlight.

"Why?"

You suppress a smile. "You're just full of questions today, aren't you? Well, judging from the little note that came with them, he wants me to go to the Fittes at Fifty ball with him tonight and thought the roses would be a symbol of his good intentions."

Lockwood scowls. "Ned Shaw? Of all people, Ned Shaw?"

"We've talked a few times," you say with a shrug. "Not always willingly. I've bitten his head off already for how he treats you guys. But, behind all the grumpiness, he's actually an alright guy."

"And he asked you to the Fittes ball?" He's still staring at the flowers, and it seems as if he's trying to burn them with sight alone. It takes all your willpower not to laugh.

"Yeah, is that so surprising?"

"No, but..."

"But what?"

He sighs through his nose. He seems mostly at ease, except for his expression, but there's something more to it than the rivalry between Lockwood and Co and Fittes. Ned Shaw is part of Kipps' crew, and, sure, he's not the nicest guy ever, but he's saved your life a few times and you've caught up over coffee once or twice. It's not like you're interested in him. You're quite caught up over someone else entirely.

"And, so what if I said yes?" you ask, pretending that your focus is still on your book. Really, you're watching Lockwood out of the corner of your eye, or admiring him as Lucy would put it. "No one else asked me."

"You're going with us, aren't you?"

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd assume that's jealousy in your voice, Anthony Lockwood." Grinning, you glance up from your book.

Lockwood scoffs again. "Jealous? Of Ned Shaw? There's nothing to be jealous about."

"Well, he did pay for me at Arif's yesterday when I was getting some snacks. Awfully kind of him, don't you think?" You turn to the next page of your book. "He bought me this, too. Heard I was into this genre and thought of me when he saw it."

"Bullshit. You don't read that genre at all."

You raise your eyebrow, gently shutting the book. "And what makes you say that?"

Lockwood leans forward, his infamous 'Lockwood Grin' making its appearance. "You don't read anything by that author in particular because, in your words, he's a 'misogynistic prick who has never seen a woman in his life'. You don't read that genre because it reminds you too much of real life when in reality you want to escape it." He points over to the windowsill. "Those flowers? You prefer orchids over roses, a fact you've made clear before, and you think that red roses in particular, such as those ones, are overrated. You like orange ones more."

Speechless. He's left you completely and utterly speechless, and he knows it because his grin is triumphant.

How does he know all of that? They've never been topics of conversation, merely things you've said in passing, but he's remembered it all. Your cheeks flush, and your smile becomes more shy and subdued. None of it is even that interesting, but he's gone out of his way to remember it.

"What do you suggest I do, then?" you ask, trying to keep your elation hidden.

"Don't go with him."

"Who do I go with then?"

He knows it's a leading question, you can see it in his eyes and the way his smile softens slightly at the corners. "Me."

Internally, your brain is throwing a party. Fireworks and confetti cannons are going off, a disco ball is flashing a rainbow of colours, and your heart is dancing along to some music, but you make sure to keep your face as casual as possible. That proves to be harder than you thought.

"Oh, is that so?"

There's something in those dark eyes of his that has butterflies swarming in your stomach. "Yes. I think I'm a much better dance partner than Ned Shaw."

"Who says we'll be dancing?" you say. "We've got a job to do tonight. I'm sure we'll be far too busy."

"I'll make time."

And now he's done it. Your breath catches in your throat, and a smile plays on your lips as you look away from Lockwood. You can feel his gaze on your face, still, and you feel all giddy and mushy inside. When you turn your eyes back, he's still watching you, studying your face intently, and you find yourself doing the same - enjoying tracing your eyes over the shape of his face, the neatness of his hair, the green tie he fiddles with the end of. The only sign of his emotions behind that bright, cocky smile.

"I was never going to go with Ned," you admit, your eyes firmly locked in place with his. "I already declined his offer."

"You did?" You don't miss the relief in his tone.

"Mm-hm. Told him about the roses, too. And, really, this book isn't that great. Quite naff, if I'm being honest. There is no way this man has ever seen a woman. I mean, seriously, in what world is this good writing?"

Lockwood laughs, and you wish you could record the sound and put it on repeat to use it as some sort of painkiller. You find yourself laughing, too. You feel at ease with Lockwood, comfortable just sitting with him. It would be a content life just relaxing here, curled up on the sofa, with him for the rest of your life, laughing and talking.

"So, I know I haven't bought you flowers, or a book, or anything, but will you be my date to the ball?" Lockwood asks.

It sounds a bit like a line from some fairytale, enough to make you laugh softly.

"I will, Lockwood. But, I have one request."

His smile is so radiant it lights up the whole room. "And that is?"

"Don't kill Ned."

"Ah, well, no promises."

[celticbotanart]

ALRIGHT, since Halloween is just around the corner and this blog is ALSO about sharing and talking about my full-time hyperfixation (music), I want to make some recommendations of "unusual" or just unknown songs that very well fit the theme! I've mentioned before that I love making thematic playlists and that I have rules for them everything (it's serious shit!!), so I wanna share some of the songs featured in my "Ecclectic Halloween" playlist. The two basic rules I applied for that playlist are:

The song MUST include anything supernatural, spooky, bizarre, "murder/serial killer", classic creature and so on

The song can be of ANY genre; is it metal? Prog? Disco? Electronic? Soundtrack? COOL, ALL ARE WELCOME!

Let's get started!

1 - Rainbow - Tarot Woman

As an unapologetic 70s dad rock advocate, I HAVE to start with one of my fave bands of the genre! The song begins with a DOPE synth/keyboard solo, and then iconic Dio (the one Dio from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure was named after) comes in with a bunch of cryptic imagery, like the predictions the tarot woman is telling him as she turns the cards side on:

Something in the air Tells me to beware - No, no, no! Her love is like a knife She'll carve away your life - So go, go, go! Beware of a place, a smile on a bright shiny face I'll never return, how do you know? Tarot woman! But I don't know, I don't know!

2 - Blackmore's Night - I Guess It Doesn't Matter Anymore

From the same breed of the first song, cause Blackmore was the guitar player / composer for Rainbow - except that Blackmore's Night is a project he made way later (late 90s), with his wife Candice Night, who sings all the songs and composes with him. This song is about the CLASSIC tale of someone giving a lift to a mysterious woman they found wandering at the side of the road; when they get to the place she wanted to go and asks to leave, the driver turns around! And the lady, she's suddenly gone!!!!!

Standing in the rain, the cold and angry rain In a long white dress, a girl without a name She stood beneath the light, Glowing like a candle bright I guess it doesn't matter anymore (...) Finally she spoke, 'come pull off the road' Saying she was headin' home I turned and she was gone, I was all alone

3- Loreena McKennitt - The Bonny Swans

You might be asking: "Oriel, what the fuck, why is soft spoken-christmas songs-traditional folk medieval instruments Loreena McKennitt in this playlist at all??? With a song named like THAT?? What is so scary about pretty glorified ducks anyway?" - And to that I'll say right off the bat this is the most metal song in the entire playlist, and I say this unironically. This song is inspired by an old ballad and it tells about a girl who was drowned by her own sister out of jealousy of her betrothed; the sister kills her so she can have the lad for herself. It already has murder, as you can tell - but it gets WORSE, as the body of the drowned girl floats down the river and is found by a miller's daughter; a passing-by bard then uses the dead girl's bones and golden hair to make a harp that plays on it's own, possessed by the dead girl's spirit???? She (as the harp) asks to be taken to the court, the bard takes her, and AS A CURSED HARP MADE OF BONES the dead girl outs her sister as her murderer, in front of the entire family and the court. Look. If this isn't METAL AF, I don't know what ELSE can be. The "bonny swans" from the title comes from the comparison Loreena makes of the pale girl's body floating in the water, to swans swimming along. kkkkkkkkkkk JESUS.

He made harp pins of her fingers fair With a hey ho and a bonny o He made harp strings of her golden hair The swans swim so bonny o He made a harp of her breast bone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play alone The swans swim so bonny o He brought it to her father's hall With a hey ho and a bonny o And there was the court, assembled all The swans swim so bonny o He laid the harp upon a stone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play lone The swans swim so bonny o

4- Sting - Moon Over Bourbon Street

Probably one of the most fun songs in this, because it's a song written by Sting, inspired by Anne Rice's "Interview With the Vampire"! The song is under Louis' PoV, and he laments his current condition as a vampire and also as a man of god, as he wanders through New Orleans's streets. This Sting's live performance of this song (the live in Berlin, 2010) is my favorite by far - there's a whole ass epic orchestra and even a theremin! hehe

I pray everyday to be strong For I know what I do must be wrong Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet While there's a moon over Bourbon Street It was many years ago that I became what I am I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb Now I can never show my face at noon And you'll only see me walking by the light of the moon

5- AQUA - Halloween

Yes, THAT AQUA - turns out they DO have more songs other than Barbie Girl, and they actually slap - I was there in the 90s, when the Deep Eurodance Magic was written. I LOVE this one because it has such a fun vibe, and obviously, inspired by the "Halloween" movie franchise - Lene plays as the girl alone at night who receives a call from René, playing as the psycho who's after her. They even act that scene at the begining of the song dsjfhjsdgf so cool!

The sound of shoes, a shadow that moves Something odd is tic tac ticking Someone's in here, I'm so full of fear The telephone is ringing!!

6- E Nomine - Das Tier In Mir

ONE OF MY ALL-TIME FAVES IN THIS PLAYLIST. E Nomine was (?) a German electronic music project who DARED to mix in dark techno/trance beats AND CHANTS IN LATIN, as this deep-voiced dude sings/borderline-raps in German. ITS HARD TO EXPLAIN, BUT I PROMISE, ITS SO SO SO DOPE. They also sang about all sorts of religious / dark fantasy themes - they have an entire album based on the Bible, which I promise, they made it a LOT MORE RAD AND COOL than it sounds; and another album about the supernatural and all kinds of creatures, like vampires, ghosts, werewolves, demons. "Das Tier in Mir" or "The Animal In Me" is their "werewolf" song - it starts off with this kid singing in Latin about the forest, and the moonlight, and the song goes on with Deep Voice Dude singing under the werewolf's perspective; it even features a dramatic transformation sequence!!

[Latin]The forest is hidden, in the moonlight, My home is the forest In the starlight (...) Dark clouds and dark thoughts, The full-moon night smashes my barriers down. The animal desire that I massacre comes in me. I feel this bloodlust here and now. Deep in the night the twinkling stars, A sweet smell is drawing me into the distance. But careful if my passion gets aroused quite gently in the night And the hunter wakes up in me! (Translation from here - it's rather clunky, but that's the gist of it!)

7- E Nomine - Mitternacht

Yep! Another one by E Nomine, BECAUSE THEY JUST SLAP TOO HARD. "Mitternacht", or "Midnight" is pretty much about the Witching Hour, all the spirits comes out when the bell strikes midnight!! This one is SUCH A FAVORITE of mine because it sounds EXACTLY what a DJ would play as vampires dressed in fancy, old outfits and masks waltz around in a haunted, opulent manor

When the gondolas are in mourning and the dead's lament resounds horror is breathing down your neck When the clock starts striking cold thick fog is touching you gently ...midnight! [Latin] midnight, dark night, cruelty of the soul the bell is ringing twelve times ...midnight! (Translation from here - same from previous song, kinda clunky but we get it)

8- Dead or Alive - Something In My House

Another classic banger with the catchiest fucking tune ever, by You-Spin-Me-Right-Round-Baby-Right-Round Dead or Alive, sung by ICONIC genderfucker wizard Pete Burns (the Gender Envy of him in this video is real). I have to admit, this one is SLIGHTLY cheating on my rules, cause the "something in my house" in question is not anything supernatural - it's a metaphor for a gone-wrong relationship, lol. Ngl, I think this is kinda fucking brilliant. But like, the spooky, Halloween-y vibes are all there nonetheless: wolves are howling, Pete is singing in an old castle and looking 200% like a vampire. Even if I'm cheating a little, it still fits!

There is something in my house - my house, It's just a ghost of a long long dead affair, There is something in my house - my house, I just keep a hearing you runnin' on up my stairs, But you're not there

9- League of Legends - Fiddlesticks, The Harbinger of Doom

Finally, some soundtracks! I don't play LoL, but I absolutely love some of the character's themes, and Fiddlestick's is one of them! For what I've got, Fiddlesticks is like this ancient, nightmare-ish Freddie Krugger-like entity, and BOY, does the song reflect exactly THAT. It SOUNDS like a horror movie, and I'm obsessed about it!!

When fields lie calm and wind stands still (Run home, run home) As the crows make night of the fading Sun (Hide now, hide now) When the trees do bow, as if they weep (Stay down, stay down) Though its light beckons forth, a melody calls out (Too late, too late)

10- The Alan Parson's Project - The Cask of Amontillado

And!!! Last but not least!! Closing this playlist with THIS ULTIMATE DAD PROG ROCK BANGER, which as you can see, is inspired by Poe's tale "The Cask of Amontillado". In fact, the entire album where that song comes from, "Tales of Mystery and Imagination - Edgar Allan Poe", is inspired by his work. Yeah there are also songs on "The Raven" and "The Fall of the House of Usher" too for example! It's just so cool! But "The Cask of Amontillado" is by far my favorite, specially with the instrumental part at the end, ughhhh <3

By the last breath of the four winds that blow I'll have revenge upon Fortunato Smile in his face I'll say "come let us go I've a cask of Amontillado" (...) You who are rich and whose troubles are few May come around to see my point of view What price the Crown of a King on his throne When you're chained in the dark all alone

This is definitely a long ass post, and I really had to cut it even shorter bc of Tumblr's dumbass video limit, but that's alright. I might even put up a part II, hehe I hope you like the Halloween-y songs recs!!

[yearningaces]

Hi! (It got too long, sorry)

So um.. i had some time to think while I was trageling, and I didnt wanted my thoughts to get lost in the void so I wrote some things in my notes about Declan (its not entirely about him, mostly about just Hallewells). So if its okay then I would share it.

The first one is actually just a situation, or well.. so um, I temporarily forgot that he is in the medival times and I had a daydream about him in the modern age.

The thing is that I really love how devoted he is, but I also like how cold he is towards everyone else. And you said that he isnt a entirely a good person so I wanted to play with that thought, how he was acting before he met his heart. (I.. um... its about a car crash so um.. dont read it if it makes you uncomfortable, there is no blood or anything but someone does dies and someone got injured, sorry)

Its colorful because I just realized I can do that in my notes lel (and I was hyped from my own thoughts, how silly)

Next one is like.. um.. mostly an ask. Shortly its about what would be his first reaction when he first sees his heart.

The next one is about um.. shortly, when you cannot communicate what you feel or want, what would he do then?

I am really sorry if any of this is uncomfortable or hurtful for you and you do not need to answer and also sorry for how I wrote in my notes because I was in a hurry... and on a bus so if you see any mistakes in my english then please ignore it. And also ignore this ask if you dont want to answer. (Im just hyperfixating right now here.) Thank you if you answer!

Please NEVER apologize because this is all liquid word gold and nothing could have made me happier to read because you got him! You got him nailed down!! Let's run through this one by one!

Second scenario!

First of all the car crash is 100% in character for a Hallewell. He's done his job, he's moving on without a second glance. Maybe MAYBE if that Hallewell knew his heart already and the woman who was injured looked like his heart? He might toss the man's phone to her. That's really it, they are such an emotionally detached being, not good, but they're doing general good by hunting and murdering the bad in their own way (also please please I'm rotating the powerhouse of this scenario iny mind the next few days of a modern time Declan just... Appearing in the road like that on a dark stormy night to do his job. I need to figure out the best weapon he'd use if not in beast form.) because that's exactly it! To most folks unless the Hallewell has actually shifted, they only see an intimidating human. For the prey of the Hallewell, they see or at least in the back of their mind they feel just how inhumanly wrong this creature is. These aren't good creatures, their job is to hunt and kill foul hearted individuals but that doesn't really make a Hallewell GOOD you know? Very duty bound and almost nothing else is in their heads

It's something I didn't touch heavily on, but whatever decides when a Hallewell is born (be it the deity that drives them like Crom dubh to a Dullahan) or the fate that creates a Hallewell because remember they can't be born from another Hallewell, whatever decides that they're meant to be is what decides who they're fated to. One individual through their entire lifespan, and that's it.

If I could say one good thing about a Hallewell it's that they are viciously devout to their heart. That is their only person, all of the lacking emotions and care is poured into that one person that's why it's so extreme. It's not strictly romantic though, it could be a platonic bond where the Hallewell feels a driving need to be your closest companion. A familial one where in their eyes their heart is their only family, but more commonly a romantic one where they want to be the best partner you could hope for so you'll never want to leave them behind. Because that's it for them, they could never find another person to care for.

Though the way they find their heart is a little... Fitting for how scary they can be.

The reason their heart is called that is because that's how a Hallewell finds them. They hear your heartbeat. They follow it until they find you.

Have you ever been hunted down?

Even if you know you're completely safe, it's terrifying especially if you don't know that and if the Hallewell in question is too excited to consider that fact so it will be a heart attack but once said Hallewell catches up, like I said with Declan, he'll be on his knees as soon as he sees you, holding onto your hand as if in disbelief over your existence because he's spent centuries committed to his duty alone, he's a rarity among Hallewell of being older and only now finding his heart, but now he has, and he would do anything to convince to keep him around. It doesn't matter if his heart is the strongest burliest man around, or the tiniest, he will act with the same adoring worshipful actions. He'd try to go off of your reactions, because at any point a terrifying stranger pledging his lifelong fealty is unnerving at best. He'd offer his home, protection, always good food on the table- he'll cook for you if you'd like, books, gems, fine fabrics, entertainment, himself, anything and everything he has if you will only permit him your presence and should you decide anything more he would be most blessed but would never expect as such.

He's an intense dude... All Hallewell are really.

As for the third thing!

This is hell! A Hallewell unable to aid his heart, Declan would be close to tearing his ribs open to offer you his racing heart if it helps! It's a scenario where he can get very very overbearing but he wants so badly to help and is close to just finding the nearest person he knows you've expressed lacking fondness over to devour them.

Now this is a very dependent scenario, but if you were crying, breaking down good and proper, first and foremost he'd isolate the both of you. No crowds, no guest fuck off everyone he will grip a bitch and toss them halfway across town if he feels they're making the situation worse regardless of who it is. Once alone he'll try to hold you, be it both of you on the ground he wouldn't care, if you let him he'll hold you close and not say a word until you do even if it means staying there for hours until he's stuff and sore he wouldn't care.

If he can't hold you? Okay he won't try again but he's gonna pace around on high alert instinctually patrolling the area you're in to ensure nothing can come near you so you can have the space to breathe properly.

Eventually he'll gain enough sense to bring you water and something light to eat because crying is dehydrating and exhausting. If you let him he'd carry you to bed, tuck you in all nice and cozy and try to help you rest.

The issue comes in now, if you go to sleep and don't tell him what happened once he's positive you're sleeping he'll lock the house up so you're safely protected from any nosey folks, and he will hunt everyone he knows you've been connected to. Not to kill but it's not off the table. He needs to know who did what to upset you so much and he doesn't care if that means fighting everyone in your town. He'll drag folks out of alehouse and toss them into a ditch to interrogate, he's not above beating someone to near death if they know something and if they're the cause I'm sorry they're no doubt going to die

If you tell him to stay before falling asleep, or find a way to explain, he'll just stay beside you as motionless as stone, watching you breathe. Counting the moments, waiting, watching. When you wake if you can tell him what you want he'll do anything.

If you can't tell him what you want just try to tell him to stay close so he doesn't go on a rampage trying to figure it out himself

[yutaholic]

Thank you for even making that post because I honestly feel like I’m going to explode!! Championing every issue is EXHAUSTING. I have such empathy fatigue. Bombardment of “rules”, behavioral guidelines, services, companies, networks + food brands & PEOPLE to boycott ALL THE TIME. Fandom is space many of us come to unplug from reality…it’s certainly my hyperfixation & ppl be like “well then get another one because you shouldn’t support–” IT DOESN’T WORK LIKE THAT. Fuck. I can’t take it anymore. Calls to action being in EVERY single place have weakened my mental state even more than it was before which was already on “pending disability” level of severe & now I’m just. burned t-absolute-f out….at everything!! I can literally FEEL myself unraveling. Kpop stans & their toxic activism can go to hell. They’re so worried about making sure to condemn others for “not doing enough” or being bad people, that they don’t even realize their actions are making them into bad people. This shit takes a toll on mental health, there is science behind this, it is real and what happens to human beings when inundated with constant terrible news, and it’s not just being ~too privileged to care~ but these performative mfs have no concept of blacklisting anymore and just want to assume the absolute worst about someone, call them names & wish harm on folks who are at the end of their ropes! It’s maddening! So even if compassion fatigue isn’t why you didn’t go out of your way to Denounce and Drag™️ him (bc you totally have the right to simply not want to do that on a fanfic blog!) I’m just glad someone else stated that this is supposed to be an ESCAPE. fuck.

Baby, burnout will fuck you up. Don't do that to yourself. Take the time you need and recoup. Life is a constant war and you can afford to lose a battle here and there to focus on your own health and well-being. Getting yourself back into a good place mentally will be a huge win. We both know the ppl obsessed with performative activism aren't doing anything from a place of compassion. The real ones are out there making change, not sending people death threats online from the comfort and safety of their mommy's basement.

When I posted the pic of NCT Dream and Big Time Rush, I wrote in the tags how BTR was something my sister and I loved and bonded over. We watched the show even though it was obviously a kids show and we were both adults. It was just something that gave us joy. My sister passed away years ago and anything BTR-related will make me teary because I think about how much we laughed together over it.

So the first thing I get are messages over how problematic BTR is, that I should delete the post or I'm pro-genocide if I don't dislike them. Ngl that made me so upset because I got a bunch of faceless people trying to taint some precious memories of me and my sister. If they came at me trying to educate me on things I didn't know that would be different, but it's straight to judgment and hatred toward me over something I posted that was totally innocent.

Meanwhile I get criticized for posting about a kpop group instead of reblogging every call to action post. I donate my money to these causes, but I don't post about it because I don't need my ass kissed for doing what I know to be right. I am 1000% sure the anons in my inbox that try to police me have never given a dime to anything, but are policing people's blogs for not reblogging posts or talking about it more.

I feel bad that I haven't been very active on here this year so I try to come on when I have some free time to interact with you guys. I make a silly post about Doyoung and get anons tearing into me for it like I'm his social media manager. Okay so because the world is going to shit we aren't allowed to enjoy anything?? Can't make jokes about anything. Can't show support for anything. Just wrong on every fucking count.

Believe me I am so goddamn aware of how lucky I am that I can sit here and say I'm very privileged that I live comfortably in the life I have. I know what's going on in the world and I do my part to help where I can, but I also have to keep functioning. I don't want every minute of my life to be seeped in anger, I did that for a long time and it not only eats away at you, it makes you ineffective in actually changing the things making you angry in the first place.

This was just supposed to be a blog where I posted my stories. One of the few places I could go and not constantly be reminded of how fucked up the world is. I've always said that people who told me reading a fic of mine made their day a little better or helped them escape for a bit were always my favorite. That was what I came here for and I loved being able to share the tiniest moments of peace and quiet with others through stories with guaranteed happy endings.

I'm frustrated because I have 4 drafts ready to go next year. I got the story posts done and made all the headers. But I don't want to post them. I have no problem admitting I'm selfish and spiteful. Even though I can turn off anon, I can't block these miserable people and I don't want them reading my stuff. They don't get to consume my content and then tell me to off myself right after.

A massive fuck you to those of you that ruined this blog for me.

[gunsli-01]

I was tagged in this by @tired-and-unjellied @rainbowghostcat and @a-star-that-burns-brightly,

cute thing im coming up with this picrew of yourself and your current hyperfixation !!

Thank you all for tagging me I was happy to see it and it made me feel really included! I love being tagged in things generally. So, it really made my day to see these as I was going through my days!

I hope you're all enjoying yourselves and the new timeline information!

Oh, and Rainbow on a milgramblrgram note did you like the long greeting. It's getting great reviews-

How was the portrayal of Mikoto, I'd like to know your thoughts if you have time to read all that- that is. No pressure if you don't though. It's pretty long.

To be honest my current hyper is actually just me, myself, and fucking I. Yet, that's not a media and I did just write all that so ya already know I'M- (<- Accurate depiction of the fanbase falling into super hell trial three. I'll be fine though~ Because I was already in hell. So, I'm just going to be going, "Super!")

I've pretty much been embodying this song. To me selfcare is recognizing when I don't want to speak to anyone and not pushing myself to do so out of a misguided fear of missing the opportunity to, or misinterpreted my own feelings and ways of display care and consideration one-sidedly. Ultimately causing a lot of undue stress. That and generally recognizing that no one is ever entitled to the ability to access/communicate with someone else especially if someone is abusing that ability.

This may sound antisocial, maybe on some level it is. Yet, this is actually the most social I've been in a year. It's more just a reminder to myself to just not talk to people who make me feel bad about talking to anyone at all or about my hobbies. Something that some may be able to tell I've been really getting back into.

So another current hyper fixation has been my many ocs. Right now with a big focus on my little sweetie Daniel-

Who also fits that song quite a lot too I'm realizing,

Daniel: Yeah, it’s a real touristy place but a lot of students where I go hangout there due to it. Easy to get lost in a crowd. So, sometimes I just get a ride out there when invited or someone sends a ride to me if they really want me there. Nayo: Sounds fun- though it also sounds like the times you go there are very conditional. Have you ever been there without being invited Daniel: I mean yeah. Why else would I go there? Nayo: Was just curious- since you did just say that you tend to either pay for a ride when you’re invited out or someone sending one to you. For all I know, it could have been specifically to meet up with people. Daniel: Yeah, it was just to meet up with others. Not like that’s a crime though.

"I've gone outside and taken Ubers my friends have made me go."

I've been trying to to plot out the best way to finish his trial. I'm also really into Mugram (Mayumi and Masaru the oops we fucked up at work duo that is if Masaru is running a gambling scam to make quick cash.) and Tsumigram (mostly still really fixated on Toa) still. Plus, I'm interested in seeing a-star-that-burns-brightly opinion on the new timeline today. Sorry about that at first disjointed explaination on the pregnancy entrapment theory by the way I fuck up spelling a lot and sometimes forget connectors are necessary hope the edited version connected things in a more understandable way.

Also more proof for that pregnancy entrapment Yuno theory just dropped thanks to Nott sending me the graffart. Where staff just decides to highlight the red ribbon that's tied to the balloon reflected in Yuno's eyes within Umbilical the one she was aiming seeming just in case her first songs visuals were to subtle about it,

Since the graffart is directly referencing things in the prisoners first trial songs,

I messed up I found out- Is right!

Yuno as soon as she found out that was Yellow's baby,

"Oh, please! Gimme that baby and I'd yeet it off a tower."

The fanbase trial three are about to be out here like, "What?!"

Oh damn that's gonna be funny if it's actually the case.

So, yeah I've have a lot things that I've had my eyes on lately. Sorry for the more long response. I just didn't want to just slap all your tags together answer and say nothing else. So I brought up a few things I thought might interest all of you.

Also, go check out @apatchworkstar they put a theme on her blog for desktop that's very cute. Also on that note thanks for the all the help Tired-and-Unjellied I really hope it wasn't too much of a bother.

Oh also I'm tagging Star and @purgemarchlockdown for the tag game. Neither of you have to do it if you don't want to, though.

[sincerely-sofie]

The """"villain""""Twig!AU is making me go insane over what would happen. I haven't hyperfixated on something so much, so quickly in years. I need to give my 2 cents or I just might implode

(Tw: self hatred, suicide implications, Death, Caps lock)

Twig would think of herself as an irredeemable monster for indirectly hurting her friends. she would probably think that, because Darkrai made people have nightmares because of malice, (while not knowing its just a thing he can accidentally do without realizing it.) she would think that on some level that she WANTED to hurt the people closest to her. Her self loathing would get SO much worse. BUT she CAN'T be self destructive because she wouldn't want anyone else to be cursed with this power. She would spiral even further. She wants to die, but she knows she can't from age because of Celebi. She would hate herself even more for even thinking of finding someone to put her out of her misery. She loves her friends to a fault. She wants to be with them, but she thinks that she's inherently evil. It wouldn't help that she would not be able to practice controlling her powers in isolation, give that nightmare aura invariably needs someone else to practice with.

Everyone in her friend group, the Guild, heck, maybe even team skull, would desperately search for her. Combing every place they can think of. Searching every mystery dungeon, forest, mountain, cave, even going under the sea to search. But it's no use. One by one all of them would give up and accept that she is missing. Maybe forever. Except Kip. He would never stop searching for her. He's madly in love with her and knows her better than anyone else. All he wants to do is tell her that he still loves her, and that he would endure any nightmare, no matter how awful, just so he could wake up next to her. And that they would figure out how to control her powers together. But he can't. Maybe he evolves from the constant stress and work put in searching for her. He can't accept that she's gone. He CANNOT live without seeing her one last time. But no matter how much he tries, he can't find her. All of his effort, YEARS of searching with no results. He would either fall into an intense depression, rarely eating or getting out of bed, or die in an accident during an expedition. His thoughts for the last who-knows-how-many-decades have almost entirely been about Twig. And that doesn't change during his last breath.

Grovyle would possibly take it the worst out of all her friend. She was the ONE person he SWORE to protect, and he SCREWED IT UP! HE COULDN'T HAVE DONE ANY WORSE! He would consider himself an utter failure on every conceivable level. It doesn't help that his old savior complex habits resurface worse than ever. He doesn't want anyone to worry about him. He needs to be strong. He always puts on a mask whenever he's around others. He denies everything when someone confronts him about obviously not doing well. Whenever he's alone, he wishes he could just, dissappear. But that would mean someone else would wonder what happened to him. So he can't do that. As a result, he becomes more distant from everyone. His friendships fade because he's never genuine. He runs away whenever he begins to get too emotional. And denies that he is doing such a thing.

Dusknoir would be incredibly distraught by this. He hurt Twig before, who's to say he hadn't done hurt her again? She didn't even say goodbye to anyone, least of all him, why would she even care about him? And now all he wants is to beg her for forgiveness. Completely unaware of the fact that she had already forgiven him for his betrayal a long time ago. He has no idea that she would be appalled that he would want her to forgive him when she would be the one begging for his forgiveness for hurting him and "being evil". Both of them recieve no closure for this. And both of them live without knowing that the other wishes they would ask for forgiveness.

Celebi would become more reserved than ever. She learned that; not only could a legend be killed, but also what happens to the person that kills them. She would consider her powers to see the future and the past a curse. One that only she can bear. She becomes so much less adventurous and adverse to risk. Whenever the other Celebi's ask her why she looks so glum, she quickly changes the subject. She can't have them know. It would destroy them. She would consider all of this her fault as well. If only she knew what would happen, she could have stopped it. If she had been more responsible, she could have had Twig live her life, and all of this would have been avoided. But she can't change it now, because if she were to try and go back in time, another Celebi might come to this timeline and learn what happened. Then they would tell the others, and then they would talk, and she would be solely responsible for ruining the lives of infinite Celebi's. It would all have been her fault. She shoos any celebi that arrives in her timeline out of there. Her relationship with Dialga crumbles as a result of how often she threatens other Celebis to tell him that they are interfering with other timeliness. Eventually, the other Celebi's start avoiding her altogether. "If she's gonna be so mean, then we just wont talk to her" they reason. She's alone, her friendships are ruined, the only people that can relate to her hate her. But they are all safe. That's the only thing that matters now.

Cressalia would take some time, but eventually she finds out what would happen. She would feel responsible for being the one that got Twig cursed with this power, but also she would try to police Twig the same way she tried to control Darkrai. "She must be doing this on purpose". Perhaps Cressalia is the catalyst that made Twig leave in the first place. By trying to help her in Cressalia's own special way, by guilt tripping them while assuming they know what they're doing. It's only after her experience with the Snivy that she realizes what she has done. And now she did EXACTLY what she did to darkrai. To someone who never wanted or asked for this power. She would want to seek forgiveness, but Twig doesn't sleep. She doesn't know where she is. This guilt would eat away at her, leaving her a shell of her former self.

I love a good (fictional) tragedy, because all of this is no-ones fault in particular. Celebi thought legends couldn't be killed and didn't take any precautions in the possibility of that happening, Cresselia thought she was doing the right thing, both before and after Darkrai's death. Twig, Kip, Grovyle and Dusknoir couldn't have known that any of this would happen. It was the perfect storm and set of circumstances that caused this. The most tragic part of all of this, is that by trying to protect everyone, Twig hurts them more than she would have if she had simply stayed. If she didn't have a tendency to put the well-being of others over her own, she could have lead a much happier life, with some pain at the start. Rather than being in pain forever, while unknowingly causing so much more suffering. Ignorance is often bliss, but it is a curse in this.

I dunno how in character all of this is, (Personally, I think my interpretation of Celebi is a bit iffy, she probably would have known that legends can be killed, seen this future, and taken steps to prevent all this from happening) But my brain latched on to the implications of this AU like a steel trap and would not let go until I wrote this down

Thank you for continuing to make art Sophie! I love this suffering more than you probably realize. (Genuine)

Okay so like. When you said you were gathering your thoughts I was so excited. But I would have never DREAMED of this amazing ask.

This is such an interesting continuation of the AU’s premise! It really drives home the irony of Twig’s belief that she makes things worse for those around her, and that her friends would be happier if they never saw her again— Twig is the heart of the main cast. She’s keeping everyone from going off the deep end with just her presence.

I don’t know what to say other than GOOD GLORY do we ever need a tag for this AU because I’m getting attached to it 😭

[forever-fan]

My FNAF Hyperfixation has inspired me!

So I've been reading a bunch of FNAF time travel fix-it fics. If you don't know what I am referring to, they are basically fics where Michael/William/Henry/basically anyone else finds themselves in the past by some circumstance. They then try to fix the future.

Now that you know what I'm talking about I can actually get to the point. I have decided to write a FNAF time travel fix-it fic. It is tied to an AU, so don't come at me about "canon". Here is a sneak peek at it.

-

Michael wished he died in the fire. Well, technically he was already dead. He had no pulse and he couldn't breathe. His brain had long since stopped working and he got his energy from Remnant rather than digesting food. In all reality, he was a stubborn spirit trapped within his own corpse.

Michael hadn't died in the fire that Henry had set. Hell, his body was barely harmed. All he remembered was passing out before waking up in a random alley. Michael realized someone saved him, but now he was even more alone than ever before.

When the Mega Pizzaplex opened on top of Michael's old restaurant, he knew there would be trouble. Sure enough, there was. Michael took a job as a security guard and found that, while they weren't murderous, the animatronics weren't quite right.

Michael also found his fellow guard, Vanessa, to be a little shifty. She turned out to be way more than shifty when she pushed him into the daycare ball pit from a height that would have maimed or killed anyone else.

Michael's afterlife only got worse when he emerged from the ball pit and found that he was back in Fredbear's Family Diner in 1980.

-

This short introduction obviously doesn't tell you all the fun little headcanons that I have for this fic. I guess you'll just have to read it to find out. Of course, I haven't written in yet. But! I am so hyped about the movie that I think I'll probably finish the first chapter before twenty-four hours have passed.

[Edit: My entire document on Microsoft Word deleted itself from reality... RIP. So... I'm rewriting the first chapter all over again. :> And trust me, I looked through all of my files and drives. Let it be known, I have turned on auto-save cause it sucks to rewrite dialogue, and know for a fact that it's not the same as it was. Also, I lost a doc with half of my headcanons for a different fnaf au. Sadness.]

Real quick, I do have only a little bit of important information for anyone who wants to understand the timeline. (Also so I can remember the basic timeline I made for myself.)

Original Timeline

1968 - Michael is born.

1973 - Elizabeth is born.

1974 - Charlie Emily is born.

1975 - Evan is born.

1980 - William discovers something called Remnant.

1981 - The Missing Children Incident happens and Fredbear's barely stays open.

1982 - William begins to create the Funtimes to harvest Remnant.

1983, March - Elizabeth dies at her friend's birthday party, three days after Circus Baby's Pizza World opened.

1983, August - Evan dies a week after the bite of '83. (FNAF 4)

1983, August - Mrs. Afton [Yet to be named] dies after driving her car off a cliff.

1983, October - Charlie is murdered by William at her own birthday party.

1986 - Michael goes to college to get away from the tragedy and gets a little therapy.

1990, April - Michael receives a letter from his father asking him to find Elizabeth.

1990, June - Michael dies in the Sister Location. (FNAF 5)

1991, January - Michael assumes the name 'Fritz Smith' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria before being fired on his first day. (FNAF 2)

1993 - Michael uses the name 'Mike Schmidt' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. (FNAF 1)

1993 - William dies in the Spring Bonnie suit

2000 - Michael works at Fazbear's Fright. (FNAF 3)

2010, Late December - Michael opens Freddy Fazbear Pizza Place. (FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2010, Early January - Henry sets the fire, and Michael survives. (Still FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2020, July - Michael works at the Mega Pizzaplex and is pushed into the ball pit only six days before the events of Security Breach.

Time Travel Timeline

[To be edited as chapters are added. Peek under the cut only if you have read the most recent chapter, or if you don't give a shit about spoilers.]

1980 - Michael arrives in the past. He is not happy.