#i didn’t even have to use uncanny dodge .

[archivestarlyht]

> level 15 game was a forced arena fight with a bladesinger wizard controlled by the dm, then the other two players (barbarian fighter and paladin).

> paladin and wizard make an alliance, which saves the paladin because wizard polymorphs him into a giant ape.

> sol’rys gets lucky enough to avoid the giant ape’s wrath because the paladin was preoccupied with the fighter and had been invisible on turn one. paladin ends up downing the fighter.

> wizard had been taking enough damage sol’rys downs him with a lightning arrow. ends polymorph on paladin.

> sol’rys and the paladin the last two standing and it devolved to him arrow attacking and hiding to avoid getting hit ☠️ both survived and won lmfao.

> nothing is funnier than me asking if i can do something or be like “no actually i’m so hard to hit that i can make you reroll your attack! :D” or “oops sorry i’m invisible you can’t see me!” and the dm being like “yeah lmao gloomstalkers are so annoying”

i love my bitchy drow guy like at higher levels he’s so fucking annoying <3

[aquaticmercy]

Blood Bound

Part 2 of Dark Necessities

Summary : You are blood bonded to Bucky. The problem? You don't know what a blood bond is.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x half-vampire!reader (she/her in mind)

Warnings/tags : Blood. Cursing. Sexual tension. Pleasure from a vampire bite (?). Brief mention of sex (not graphic). Violence.

Word count : 3.1k

Note : Reader is a daywalker like Blade. John Walker and Eric Brooks feature in this because I kinda tolerate John because I think he has potential to be a well-written character, and I loved the Blade comics as a kid. Enjoy!

Whatever manifested between you and Bucky after the feeding only grew stronger in the days that followed. 

It wasn’t just the bite, nor was it just the intoxicating power of his super-soldier blood; it was something more— it has to be. It was something that you could not identify yet— it was as if it unlocked something dormant.

You didn’t understand it. The only bond you knew of was the familiar bond— and that required Bucky drinking your blood, not the other way around.

You knew you should’ve read up more on the history of vampirism. Granted, your lack of knowledge at this point wasn’t entirely your fault— you hadn’t lived very long, at least not by vampire standards. You haven’t even lived through a human lifetime yet.

You had barely scratched the surface of the supernatural experience. Eric Brooks had told you to read thousands of ancient inscriptions, and you were even a quarter way there yet. 

Besides, maybe you were just overthinking it. Maybe this was just what it felt to feed on an enhanced being.

Of course, you had fed on people before Eric— Blade— found you. He had seen you as a feral teenage daywalker, reckless but full of potential. It had been different then. Human blood was good but not great, it just gave you sustenance. You’d always imagine you had to get used to blood the same way high school kids learned to like beer.

When Eric took you in, he gave you shelter. He gave you a home and proper training. He gave you bags of serum monthly— ones he developed as a blood replacement. He gave you scrolls to study, books to read.

He told you to never ever consume human blood, even if it means you would never be satisfied.

Well, you broke that rule.

It had been weeks now since you first fed on Bucky’s blood, and now you could feel him like a second pulse.

It started with small things. So small that it went unnoticed at first. You’d reach for a glass of water, only to have him pass it to you before you even realized you were thirsty. He’d appear beside you on missions, his arms raised to protect you the second you sensed an incoming attack. And his injuries—those bruises and cuts you’d tend to— left ghostly aches on your skin.

After the feeding, both your powers became something else entirely. 

Your already sharp reflexes were sharper, your speed more supernatural that it should be. Bucky noticed it too—he moved with more than super soldier agility, leaping over gates as if they weren’t there, dodging bullets with uncanny ease. 

It wasn’t just that. Your emotions flowed into each other in unexpected surges. 

When Bucky felt anger, a hot, restless fury built within you, too. When your mind was clouded by doubt or fear, he’d tense up beside you.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you both stumbled back to your shared apartment. His shirt was ripped, exposing the bruises mottling his chest. He tried to ignore it, but he knew you felt it, too. 

“I need you,” he murmured, voice steady, almost begging. 

“Bucky, we can’t keep doing this,” You swallowed. “What if you get hurt?”

“I won’t,” he growled, fingers brushing over your cheek, voice thick with longing. “Don’t you feel it? I’m stronger, faster— I’m healing quicker than I ever have before. Whatever this is, it’s changing both of us.”

The words hung in the air. You’d felt it too, that surge of power, that electric hum that vibrated through your bones.

“What is this?” you whispered, not expecting an answer. “What is it doing to us?”

“Let’s find out,” he said, his voice a dark, thrilling promise as he leaned in, the heat of his breath grazing your skin.

You hesitated, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. “Maybe we should ask Eric. He’s dealt with this daywalker thing longer—he might understand—”

There was a glint of frustration in his gaze. “And have him tell you to stop feeding off me? To go back to starving, until you waste away?” His hand cupped your face, pulling you closer. “His serum isn’t working anymore. Cow blood isn’t working. You need this. And I’m not about to let you go through hell to satisfy someone else’s rules.”

You felt your guard slipping, his words and the heat in his eyes breaking down your last defences. He was offering himself to fill the void inside you. And you couldn’t deny him any longer.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you onto his lap.

Slowly, you let your fangs graze his skin, a soft, tantalizing scrape that drew a low groan from his throat. His hands tightened around you. With a gentle press, you sank your fangs in.

The first taste of his blood hit you like a shockwave, the way it did the first time. He flooded your senses in a dizzying head rush. He tasted so intoxicating that it left you gasping.

You felt his pulse in your mouth, steady and strong.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”

His words were a spark to the fire inside you. His blood was like a drug. You couldn’t talk where you ended and he began.

His hands roamed over your back, fingers tracing every curve, pressing you closer as if he couldn’t bear any distance between you. The way he held you, the way he breathed your name—it was like he was offering every part of himself to you

When you finally pulled back, Bucky’s eyes were heavy-lidded. He reached up, brushing his thumb over your lips, smearing the faint trace of his own blood as he gazed at you, his hazy eyes a mixture of wonder and desire.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, his voice a low growl.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to the mark you’d left, your tongue flicking over the wound as he shivered. You could feel his pulse slowing, his heartbeat returning to a steady rhythm as the euphoria settled over him. He looked almost dazed, a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips as he gazed up at you.

“You really think Eric would understand?” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with a dark humour.

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “He wouldn’t,” you savoured the warmth beneath your hands. “And I don’t care. This… this is ours.”

He let out a low, satisfied hum, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles that sent a shiver up your spine. 

The feeding continued, more frequently, and you both realised the connection you felt went beyond survival in battle.

The first time you felt each other’s pleasure in bed, it hit you both like a wave, powerful and dizzying, sweeping through you so intensely that you weren’t sure where your body ended and his began. His pleasure sparked in your core, racing along your nerves like electricity, feeding back into him, and then doubling again within you. The feeling grew in an endless loop.

Every gasp, every moan became a shared experience, each sensation reverberating between you in dizzying echoes. His touch, as he moved within you, left you quivering; his breath against your neck seemed to burn, intensifying every rush of desire until you could barely breathe.

It was all-consuming.

And then, once, you’d fed from him in the midst of it, your lips against his neck as his pulse thundered beneath your mouth. The second your teeth broke skin, a flood of his essence surged through you, a rush so potent, so intoxicating, you nearly lost yourself in it. 

It was more than pleasure; it was pure, unfathomable ecstasy, a high that pulled both of you into an untethered oblivion.

Afterward, both of you lay tangled together, limbs intertwined. It was as though pieces of yourselves had fused. It was the most intense connection you’d ever felt, something neither of you could put into words. Even if you could, it would never do it justice. 

In the silences you shared, you knew that no other pleasure could ever compare to what you shared.

—

The mist hung thick around the old Hydra outpost, cloaking it in a damp chill that seeped into your skin, even with your heightened senses. The place reeked of decay and rot. A vampire nest thrived in the old base— newly turned vampires hiding from the world, growing stronger, more feral with each night that passed.

They killed people. They turned people.

You, Bucky, Eric Brooks, and John Walker were there to wipe them out before they could spread their sickness further.

Eric took point, his silhouette sharp in the mist as he motioned for you and Bucky to fan out around him.

“Close ranks.” His voice was barely a whisper. “No one goes in solo."

You nodded, knowing better than to push against his authority. 

John, off to the side, gave Bucky a wry look. "Better keep up, Barnes.”

You could smell the faintest whiff of fear from John—though he’d never admit it. 

You moved forward, sinking deeper into the ruins, stopped by cracked concrete walls that loomed like tombstones.

Your eyes met Bucky’s. 

As you scaled the wall together, Bucky’s fingers brushing the concrete just behind yours.

John huffed below, struggling to keep up. His irritation crackled in the air as he muttered, “I thought we were both supersoldiers.”

“You’re getting slow, Walker,” Bucky said, his voice a low rasp, though he didn’t look down.

Once at the top, you peered down into the yard below. The stench hit you—stale human blood, mould, the faint copper tang of vampire blood. You all dropped down with a quiet thud, though John was louder than you’d like him to be. 

“Left flank,” Eric instructed, motioning toward the entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded, gripping the hilt of your knife, feeling its hunger.

Bucky moved beside you, ready, his presence as familiar as your own heartbeat. John and Eric fanned out to the right, slipping into the murky depths of the compound with grim determination.

The first vampire appeared just as you and Bucky reached the door, its eyes blazing red in the dim light. It had time to hiss, but not to scream. You launched yourself at it, your knife slicing through. 

A second figure lunged at Bucky, but before it could touch him, you were there, your blade found the vampire’s heart.

Bucky grinned, a wild, reckless glimmer in his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You shrugged wordlessly, almost casually.

Inside the base, the halls were narrow and cold, every corner shrouded in shadows. Bloodstains smeared the walls, and the smell of decay lingered thickly in the air. You moved quickly, every step calculated, every breath measured. The vampires were emerging in hoards now, drawn by the scent of fresh blood and the thrill of a fight. They came at you in waves—fangs bared, claws extended, feral eyes blazing.

One raked its nails across your shoulder, tearing into muscle. You winced, and Bucky’s eyes snapped to you, feeling the sharp pain sear through him, too. He yanked it off, his fist connecting with its jaw with a brutal crack. You pivoted, driving your knife through its chest, twisting until you felt the resistance give way.

John staggered past, panting as he took down a vampire, his face slick with sweat. He cast a sidelong glance at you and Bucky, frustration etched deep into his scowl. “How are you both running circles around us?”

“Stay focused, Walker,” Eric barked, but you could tell he’d heard John. He’d noticed how your movements mirrored Bucky’s, how you flinched when he did, even how you were breathing in time with each other. Eric’s gaze lingered too long, as if he was convincing himself something he didn’t want to believe.

“You’ve been off the blood serum for a while,” Blade murmured suddenly, his voice low and directed at you. “What have you been feeding on, kid?”

“Animal blood” you said quietly, keeping your gaze neutral, slashing down another vampire with ease.

Eric’s knuckle tightened, and you knew he didn’t believe you. He’d taught you everything you knew, raised you like a sister. And here you were, deceiving him with half-truths.

Before he could respond, another wave of vampires rushed you from the darkness, cutting the conversation short. 

Blade fought beside you, taking in every detail of the fight, every flinch, every glance you shared with Bucky.

“If you’re feeding on something else, you need to tell me.” He stepped closer, beheading a bloodsucker without even looking at it. “Now.”

You wanted to tell him, to explain the connection you shared with Bucky, and asked if he knew what the hell was going on, but the words caught in your throat. 

The fear of his disapproval held you back. He had warned you so many times against crossing that line, of giving into the hunger that all vampires struggled to control. And yet… Bucky had been different. 

You shoved Eric back, drawing his attention to the fight. “Save it for later,” you said, your voice clipped. “We’ve got company.”

You turned, facing down the horde with Bucky at your side, the two of you tearing through the vampires with an intensity that bordered on frenzy. Each kill was swift— brutal. Your knife left trails of gore in your wake, while Bucky’s fists shattered skulls with merciless precision.

At one point, you felt the burn of a blade slicing across your forearm, a deep, ragged cut that sent a surge of pain up your arm. But before you could react, Bucky flinched beside you, clutching his own arm as if he’d been wounded too. 

His gaze shifted back and forth between you and him. He moved in close, his voice barely a whisper as he muttered, “This isn’t normal.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what was happening.

The final vampire fell, its scream echoing down the blood-stained halls. The four of you stood in the aftermath, panting, bruised, and blood-soaked. The air was thick with the scent of the undead.

Eric’s gaze shifted to Bucky. “This shouldn’t be possible,” he muttered, almost to himself. “A blood bonded daywalker…”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You didn’t know what a blood bond was, never even heard of it. But the way Eric said it made your heart skip a beat.

Eric’s gaze softened for a brief moment, a shadow of pity flickering across his face. “If this is what I think it is…”

Eric didn’t press any further, but as you moved toward the exit, his words lingered in your mind, haunting and unshakeable. Whatever had happened between you and Bucky, you didn’t know.

And maybe, deep down, you didn’t want to.

—

As the four of you trudged out of the Hydra base, John caught up next to Bucky with a skeptical glance. His breath hung in clouds around them in the night air, but he ignored the cold, eyes narrowed on Bucky’s calm, steady pace.

"Alright, Barnes," he muttered, keeping his voice low so you and Eric wouldn’t hear. "You gonna tell me what the hell’s going on? Did you get a new serum or something?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play dumb,” John snapped, frustration creeping into his tone. “I’m not blind. You’re faster. Stronger. You and..." He glanced in your direction before lowering his voice even more. "You both are."

Bucky shrugged, “Guess I’ve been working out,” he replied coolly, brushing John off with the kind of indifference that only seemed to make him angrier.

“That’s not funny.” John’s frustration was barely concealed.

For a moment, Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you, watching as you spoke quietly with Eric up ahead. 

“I told you, Walker,” he brushed off, “maybe you’re just getting slow.

—

The safe house was dark and quiet, a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. 

You barely had time to breathe before Bucky’s hand wrapped around your arm. He guided you into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Bucky’s lifted you to sit on the edge of the sink, his eyes taking in the blood on your shoulder, concern flickering across his face. 

The cut wasn’t closing as quickly as he’d like it to, your shoulder throbbing faintly— so did his. 

“Let me see it,” he said, voice low but intense, as he reached for the hem of your shirt. You started to protest, but he was insistently stubborn.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, but even you could hear the strain in your voice. 

Without another word, he took off your tactical gear, the cool air brushing over the cut on your back. His eyes darted over the wound. 

Then, without hesitation, he pulled off his own shirt. “You know it’ll help you heal faster,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours before he tilted his head, offering his neck to you.

Your lips met his, almost desperate. You were satisfying a hunger as he pulled you closer, his hand tangling in your hair, your nails grazing his skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Then, slowly, you angled his neck.

You could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, as you pressed soft, lingering kisses on his skin. 

Finally, you bit down.

A euphoric thrill coursed through you as his blood flowed into your mouth, filling you with a euphoric sensation that spread through every nerve, igniting something primal within both of you.

Bucky’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. His breaths came faster as he tilted his head back, a low, almost pleading sound escaping him. Each swallow of his blood was a pleasure so vast it felt spiritual. His fingers tangled in your hair, nails digging into your skin.

The moment was so intense that neither of you heard the door creak open.

“What the fuck…” John’s voice was harsh and full of shock.

You jerked back, catching John’s wide eyes. He took in the scene— your mouth still stained with Bucky’s blood, his arm around your waist. His confusion morphed into anger. “Are you… drinking his blood?”

Eric was right behind him, his rage thunderous. For a moment, he looked between you and Bucky, piecing it together with a calm that was worse than John’s horror. 

“This is what you call animal blood,” Eric said in a quiet accusation.

You glanced at Bucky, whose face had gone rigid. He didn’t pull away from you, his hand still resting protectively on your waist.

“I… I can explain,” you started, but even you weren’t sure what to say.

Eric’s gaze shifted from you to Bucky, a flicker of recognition in his eyes that turned grim. He muttered under his breath, “do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

-to be continued(?)

shall I make a part 3 or turn it into a series?

[magickman1234]

Please Ma’am

The cute thick waitress appeared with a tray with what Anne thought was certainly dinner mints and the check. Jen was chanting away oblivious to the world they both were mildly stoned so they missed it until it was placed in front of Jen. A plate with another slice of that chocolate cake. Jen blinked and looked at the waitress.

“Oh uh, you already brought me that, thank you but we want our check please,” she managed between stoner laughs.

“Please ma’am it’s on the house,” the waitress stood stoic like on Jen’s left side.

“Okay but I’m full, please take it back or can I have it to go?”

The waitress didn’t give any indication of a response and stood at attention.

“Please ma’am eat it.”

“What…what do you mean? I’m not hungry I already am stuffed,” Jen laughed as a nervous look crossed her face.

“Please its complements of the house,” the woman said flatly. “It’s special for you, please eat.”

“Well I’m not hungry!”

Suddenly Anne noticed several more waitstaff approached from unseen corners or something. The emptiness of the restaurant dawned on her. Anne shot a nervous look at Jen.

“Hey how about I eat it then?” Anne blurted out. “Umm, I’m sure I’ve got room let me take it…”

Jen nodded in agreement her eyes wide with fear at realizing they were surrounded.

“Oh no ma’am we have a specific dessert for you.”

Anne gulped in fear at that statement.

“Only the blonde can eat this…” the blank faced waitress said.

“You can’t be serious! Omg this is a prank right?” Jen looked from stern faced waitstaff to waitstaff.

Her eyes went wider the lack of response and strange blank stares were making her panic. She looked at Anne who was just as nervous.

“Do you need help ma’am?” Said one random waitperson.

There were now an impossible number of waitstaff surrounding them. The crowd stared waited on the now scared Jen to respond.

“Help? What the tuck does that mean?”her fear transmuted to anger.

It was too much so she stood up. Angry as she turned to make her way between two of them. Rapidly hands clasped her shoulders and she was turned to the table as she screamed and shouted. No real response but to hold her down harder as she struggled to get free. Her last year of overindulgence and pot smoking left her weak and flabby. Her once semi-fit body render lard by too many years in Covid isolation and freely available pot and junk food. She realized her weigh was easily used against her as she plopped into the chair easier when pushed. Two held her down. Anne watched frozen in terror as the original waitress picked up the plate.

“Please eat ma’am. It’s on the house.”

Monotone like a weary employee at the local grocery store reminding their five thousandth customer to keep to some mindless policy. The plump rocker chick bounced and jiggled as they held her. The cruelty of her fate not lost on her. All those indulgences had added up. The waitress first put it in front of her but she resisted and even tried to spit on it. The waitress was uncanny and dodged that plus several attempts to bite her hand. A strong hand grabbed Jen’s shoulder length hair and yanked her head up. The grip was vise like at her shoulders as the waitress picked up a good chunk of the slice. Another hand squeezed her nose shut until she gasped for air and the chocolate cake went into her mouth cruel hand shoved into all into her mouth as she struggled to spit it out. She chewed and gulped the waitress looked her in the eyes as Jen’s wide eyes teared up. A meek helpless pleading look to the waitress did nothing as the hand staid over Jen’s mouth. The second half came and muffled cries and more tears the whole piece was gone down her throat. Gasping for air the fat girl begged them to stop as another even bigger piece came.

“No, no, no! Please! I’m so full!”

No mercy the whole piece came forth. Anne could only watch as Jen struggled to keep up as a who;e chocolate cake came out. She watched her friend beg again as Jen rubbed her sore distended belly. They had just finished a feast! They held her down again and the force feeding harsher as Jen moaned in pain and humiliation to keep up. Chocolate smeared all over her fat face as tears trailed her dark makeup down her pale plump cheeks. They were savage and bits of cake were all over her.

“Oh god no! Please tell me,e that cake isn’t for me! I’ll explode! I’ll explode if you make me look at another piece!” She earnestly begged.

Anne teared up too they made eye contact and shared several useless nonverbal pleas to try something until that fourth piece came to Jen’s face. Drunk from food and stoned she submitted more fully and started to eat it without completely being forced to. Something fucked happened and she found she loved it part way through. There was an irresistible and irresponsible urge to finish it as she felt her stomach hit its limited as she finished an immense belch escaped her. There was an odd sense of relieve as her stomach went from taut to relaxed with the burp. In fact she felt her whole body relax. Anne screamed as flesh poured out from her friend’s plump body. Jen moaned in fear and pleasure as she felt herself up. Her skin burned with joy and her panties wet as they squeezed her enhanced fupa. Her belly was hit the hardest. Anne stood and her wait people grabbed her. At her edge of awareness a tray with a huge pie behind was behind Anne. Jen grabbed her tummy fat as she edged to an orgasm with the next slice as she eagerly gobbled it up. She saw the spark of arousal in Anne as clap of fat asscheeks on a seat before they forced Anne to eat a slice of blueberry pie. Anne didn’t last long at all as she moaned for joy the reality of a fantasy given flesh was too much for her. She rubbed her thighs together in a tempt to stimulate herself. Her panties beyond soaked as she fluttered eyed on the edges of orgasm as she gobbled it up. Someone lifted her skirt up and slapped her fat right asscheek mostly bare with her thong. She nearly came her pussy sore from getting so excited too fast. She was honestly too aroused to come.

“Don’t resist Jen it feels so much better!”

Another swift ass slap to her left cheek made her cry out for joy. She left herself start to widen as she ate the second piece of pie. Lost in the pleasure of it all she felt her belly and her hips as they hand fed her. She was certainly filling out but it was not fat! She glanced at her hands and saw they were blue and her legs were turning deeper blue. The truly impossible reality of juice under her skin hit her as she watched the slow growth of herself. The fear long gone she moaned for joy as her hands felt her spreading ass.

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

DONNIE’S TURN

TW for sensory type stuff and blood. Check the tags as well!

Prev, Next

@phoebepheebsphibs

@daboyau

@littlemissartemisia

@foxolotlfreak

@that0n3shr00mi3guy

Donnie sends weapon after weapon at the hand. It reminds him of a cockroach with its uncanny ability to dodge and survive. He considers the thought that like the bug, this hand was cut off something more powerful as an attempt to keep surviving.

He has to divert those thoughts. One wrong move and he’s spored all over again. Hopefully this has been enough time to give the universe’s new Phonora guest time to escape.

Maybe now is the time for him to get going as well.

Or, it would be, if more people didn’t start walking around!

Hold on, he recognizes one of them. It’s the Mikey who tried to steal from Leo’s Fanny Pack. There’s an alternative Donnie he sees with him that must be from the same universe. He’s aware that they’ve had to deal with the hallucinations as well.

Wait, is that also a mutated April!?

Mikey must have sent out help looking for Leo.

“You three! Get out of here! That hand is still in the area!”

He watches as the hand suddenly springs out at them. The other version of him shields his brother, and Mayhem April moves in front of them both.

No, this is not happening to them again.

That Mikey is small. Even in comparison to other Mikeys, he’s small. Malnutrition stunted his and that other Leo’s growth.

He’s too small to go through this again.

And, though he won’t admit it outright for no good reason, seeing another April further enforces his decision.

He creates and tosses a device at them. It becomes a shield type bubble around the three. The hand slaps against it and slides down.

Donnie smirks in pride.

Not this time, you demon.

The hand lands on the floor and turns back to him.

Uh oh.

Donnie whips around his tech bō, hoping to hit it back when it inevitably comes after him. He takes a step back, only for the floor to sink beneath his foot.

Are you kidding!?

How is a hand smart enough for booby traps!?

Darts carrying spores whiz by him, spraying in his face. He coughs and sputters.

“April! Mikey! Other me! Go back to Mikey! Make sure he’s safe!”

April’s face falling tells him all he needs to know.

He grips his tech bō tighter.

“Then get Raph! Warn him!”

“We’ll get you help! I swear!” April shouts.

They all try to get the ball moving somehow while in the cramped space. Donnie takes a breath, glad that he’s managed to save them at least.

“You’ve come back.” A voice squirms into his brain.

Donnie gets a full body shudder.

So this is what it’s decided to make him think about this time.

“Perhaps we were too hasty to remove you last time. Join us once again, we’ll put your mind to good use.”

The Kraang hive mind.

He takes a deep breath.

They’re long gone. It’s okay. He’ll never have to feel that way again-

OH BANANA PANCAKES, WHAT IS TAKING OFF HIS BATTLE SHELL!?

He moves around as quickly as possible to stop the sensation. His eyes avoid where he left the others. He’s hoping they aren’t watching him lose his mind.

There still some level of pride he’d like to keep.

Or maybe….he just really, really, that’s two reallys, doesn’t want a Mikey and April specifically to see this.

His movements don’t quell his feeling of vulnerability. The battle shell is fully taken away and tendrils start poking into his soft shell.

There’s no way to move from whatever was doing this. It’s a hallucination, of course he can’t.

It’s everywhere.

He’s unable to ignore how well it’s replicating the worst thing he’s ever experienced.

His arms start to feel-

No! Why is it in his arms!?

That did not happen!

No, no no no, it’s in his legs!

It’s all over!

He moves around like a madman, as if they’ll leave his body if he does so enough. It’s taking all his strength not to scratch into his skin to make it end.

His breathing grows heavy, he squeezes his arms tightly enough for his nails to dig into them.

On the verge of shutting down, his thoughts go back to how being the ship felt. It was so much, flooding his senses as he was surrounded by feelings and touch and voices.

The same happens to him now. Being pulled away from reality into a sea of endless consciousnesses where you don’t know where you begin and end. You just exist within everything.

It’s suffocating.

He gets on his knees and rocks back and forth. It’s a useless attempt to self soothe. How could it possibly help?

Why can’t it just go away!?

I hurts!

He doesn’t want to feel it!

Make it stop! Please!

Anyone!

Leo! Raph! Mikey!

Oh Mikey……

What a poor excuse of an older brother he is.

Leo is probably in an as bad or even worse situation than Mikey is based on how long he’s been gone. He has no idea where Raph is.

Why did they separate!?

They should never leave each other’s side again at this point!

He wants to see them so badly….

A small, tiny part of him wishes the other versions of his family were still here.

Would the spores even let him see the real them?

He’d probably see them dead or missing pieces or something equally as horrible.

Does he dare look?

He pulls himself out of the grip of the hallucination just enough to take that chance.

The other Mikey is sobbing, beating his fist on the inside of the ball. April and the other Donnie are mostly successfully holding him back but he keeps wriggling away.

He’s….yelling his name?

Why does he care? He’s not his Donnie.

Maybe for the same reason Donnie protected them all.

Ah, sentimentality. It’s the folly of all of them, and most versions it seems like.

He shakily reaches up but doesn’t dare even think about getting rid of the bubble. There’s danger all around. It’s the only thing keeping them safe.

The other Mikey presses his face against the inside of the bubble.

Donnie smiles slightly.

“It’s okay.”

“No! It’s not okay! Donnie, do something! Please!” Mikey pleads.

“How!? We can’t get out of this bubble! I don’t even know how his device works!” The other Donnie insists.

Mikey gives him as big of puppy dog eyes as he can manage.

“Even your cutest face can’t change reality! He probably doesn’t even want us to try anything. You know why he did this.” Other Donnie continues.

Mikey looks back at the spored Donnie.

His eyes were filled with purple light that had begun changing to a very creepy blue. It hurt to see him so uncomfortable, so in pain. The blue only stopped getting worse when he saw Mikey.

That means Mikey can do something, right?

He quickly turns to April.

“What happened with his Mikey? And-!….Wait, where’s Karai?”

April frowns deeply.

“He got spored, again. Karai….trapped herself with him and Leo to stop him. He went crazy! We couldn’t snap him out of it. His arms-“

Donnie hits the bubble, startling all inside.

“Did he use his ninpo again!?”

He seems a lot more lucid.

April gets an idea. It’s a very painful one she knows she won’t feel good about even if it works, but it’s all she has.

“He did! Donnie, it’s…..it’s bad. Real bad. Leo is covered up by all these viney things too!”

The blue in Donnie’s eyes is nearly vaporized by all the purple. He grips his teeth and stands up, completely ignoring the squirming from before. The feeling is starting to go away entirely.

He grips his tech bō again and sees the hand making its way out of the room. The tech bō turns into a spear he launches right towards it. Black blood drips onto the ground but the hand isn’t still.

It squirms and writhes, trying to get away.

Donnie walks over, the hand removes itself from its arm portion and runs off. He lifts it up and smirks slightly as he looks it over.

At least he knows it could be injured.

“You did it!” Mikey cheers in relief.

Donnie looks back at him, smiling a bit more before a headache suddenly starts pounding in his head.

No!

He won, didn’t he?

A different voice booms into his skull.

“Come to me. Feed me your fear.”

He’s still connected to the hive mind.

The hand scuttles off, knowing it barely escaped this time.

It doesn’t fear for the turtles’ lives as it does not have the capability of fearing anything.

That isn’t to say that it does want them dead.

It simply knows that it isn’t how this story will end.

The tragedy and angst has been so entertaining, but they will be saved. It’s proven already. It’s written in fate itself.

Three(?) down.

One to go.

[sapphicsaints]

sweet solutions

Tamar Kir-Bataar x female reader

NSFW

A/N: I'm still new to writing these, but theres not a lot of Tamar Kir-Bataar fics anywhere so I figured I'd try my best :) I'd love any feedback.

Summary: You keep slipping your guards and Tamar comes up with a solution.

Warnings: Mentions of violence and slightly spicy content.

Word Count: 3.1k

You were sick of Nikolai’s hovering. Ever since the civil war ended and you returned home, he insisted on always having guards with you. The last straw was when he decided you needed two extra guards – even though there hadn’t been any assassination attempts in months, let alone on palace grounds. 

That night, you convinced a friend to tailor you, and snuck out your window with her at night, going to have a few drinks in one of the many taverns. Later, after she’d fixed your face, you stumbled back through your window, landing on the carpeted floor with an oof. You groaned and slowly pushed yourself up, just to see Tamar sitting on her bed.  

“Oh, you’re finally back”, she said. 

“Yes, why are you in my room?”. 

“Why do you think?” 

“You wanted to raid my closet” You answered, swaying back and forth with a cheeky smile. 

Tamar glared at her, and your mouth snapped shut – her gaze was furious.   

Tamar’s hands rubbed over her face, “I have eyes everywhere”, she said finally. “I haven’t told your brother yet but you’re getting reckless”. 

“Who gave you the right to spy on me?”

“Who gave you the right to sneak away in the middle of the night!”

“I didn’t need the right” you yelled, “I’m not some naive little girl”.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow”, Tamar said, she pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your forehead. “Go to bed”. 

She headed out the door and you flipped her off behind her back. 

“I saw that”, she yelled out. You’d forgotten about the mirrors. 

You brushed your teeth, washed your face, threw your clothes off, not bothering to change into a nightgown, and collapsed on your bed into a restless sleep. You never could sleep well after drinking. 

-Break- 

You woke up to knocking on your door. 

“Go away” you yelled, pulling your pillow over your head. 

“I’m coming in”, you heard Tamar’s voice. 

She took one look at you sprawled out, half-naked, on your bed and threw a dressing gown at you. You caught it, sat up, and tied it around yourself. 

“You didn’t like the view?”, you said with a pout 

“Oh I liked it”, Tamar winked, “But it’s a bit distracting right now”. You rolled your eyes. 

You rubbed your temples, trying to ease the headache from your hangover. “Any chance you’ll help me with the headache”. 

“Nope. You earned that”. 

You groaned and threw a pillow at her, which she dodged before walking over to sit next to you on the couch. 

“I can get your brother to loosen up on the guards”, she said. 

It seemed too good to be true, you narrowed your eyes, “what’s the catch?” 

“I teach you how to fight”. 

You shuddered. You’d been able to draw with Tamar once. Just once. And you still considered that one of her biggest achievements. The girl was uncanny in a fight – silent and as cold as steel. She loved to tease and antagonize you too, or at least she used to. The two of you hadn’t sparred since Spinning Wheel. 

Your stomach dropped thinking of that place. You’d gone back once to visit with Nikolai and the twins after the war ended. Nikolai decided to permanently close the base, as a memorial. There were too many painful memories littering that large room, the halls, the four flights of stairs that were angels compared to the giant metal contraption Nikolai had rigged.

You’d barely survived the escape from Spinning Wheel, tagging along with a group of first army soldiers. You’d served in the first army as infantry – following in your brother's footsteps. Marksmanship was your best skill – and you could hit a target 500 feet away easily. It was pure luck you came across the Soldat Sol and Alina’s group a few days before the ambush. Luckily, they recognized you and you convinced them to let you join in on the ambush. 

“It’s my country too” you argued. You proved your skills with a rifle and they let you fight. Alina had argued against you going, but Tamar stood up for you. You’d grown closer since she’d decided to stay at the little palace. Neither of you had put an official label on what you had, but you both understood you were exclusive – Tamar had a jealous streak. Something you liked to tease her about, in good faith. Your brother liked to dangle the possibility of an engagement to you with influential nobles and foreigners as a bargaining tool. He knew not to cross the line and try and set up a real engagement, last time he brought up marriage you decked him in the face. His pride prevented him from getting the bruise healed. There was zero chance you’d end up with some grubby-handed noble, and your brother understood that. 

You came out of your daze, turning to look at Tamar 

“When do we start?”

“I have some things to do but I’ll find you mid-afternoon”. 

You nodded, “Alright”. 

Tamar gave you a quick kiss before you left. You caught yourself smiling for a few moments after she left, holding a hand up to your lips, 

“Pathetic” you mumbled under your breath. 

Tamar did find you later in the library, you were brushing up on some liturgical Ravkan. It was horribly dull but you wanted to keep up with your language studies. She laughed at your choice of reading and put the book aside before pulling you up out of your seat. You were excited about the lesson. 

“No weapons”, Tamar said, starting to off her axes, pistols, dagger, and all of the other weapons she carried on her at what seemed like all times. 

‘She probably sleeps with them’ you thought. 

You took out your pistol, pulled the daggers out of your boot, inside your shirt, and the ones tucked into your waistband. The war had left a sense of paranoia in you, and your weapons almost felt like a safety blanket. You felt a bit naked without them. 

“Your hair knife”, Tamar said with an amused expression 

“I almost forgot about that, thank you” You replied genuinely, and you had forgotten about it. It was a dull blade – it wouldn’t cut through your hair, but someone would feel it if you jammed it into their eyes. Once that was removed, you both took up your stances. Tamar tweaked your form, pushing your front elbow in slightly. 

You felt nerves trickle up into her, you’re a little rusty on hand-to-hand combat – and haven’t been practicing as much as you should’ve. Tamar leapt into action without warning – silent, cold, and deadly as always. Your nerves started to disappear as you dodged the first blow, and the second, the third landed and winded you a bit, but you aimed a knee right for Tamar’s stomach – and it hit before the other girl lifted your knee to push you right on your back. You wasted no time rolling to her feet, skipping the kick, and this time running straight towards her, you faked a blow to Tamar’s stomach and went straight for the headbutt, your forehead smashing into her nose. It was something of a classic move of yours. But, Tamar didn’t miss a beat. She took the chance to trip you, and fell on top of you, straddling your waist. When you kept trying to punch her, she pinned your wrists down to your side. 

Tamar was too strong for you to buck off with your hips, so you just squirmed as much as you could, bringing her leg up to push against a certain area … Tamar jumped in surprise and you took the chance to flip her over, you on top this time. She hesitated too long, and Tamar flipped you so your back was pressed against her chest, her legs locking yours down, and with you in a headlock. 

Tamar POV

Y/N did well in their first round. Tamar released her from the hold and stood up, offering the other girl a hand, she yanked her up, so her mouth was close to her ear. “Good one princess”, she said in a low tone. Her face flushed and she pushed Tamar away. Tamar loved teasing her, they’d grown closer since Tamar and Tolya decided to stay on with the King. Everyone knew they were together in some way, but the two of them hadn’t put a label on anything. 

“Again”, she said. 

They went another round. The fight lasted almost the same length, and Y/N was giving everything she had, Tamar didn’t hold back. It ended with Y/N on her back again, Tamar straddling her – carefully positioned so she couldn’t pull the same trick, although Tamar thought she really wouldn’t mind it. She shook that thought from her head before standing and offering another hand. She whispered in her ear again this time, 

“I think you can do better than that”. 

Tamar saw the fire build in Y/N’s eyes. The last round was a good one, Y/N’s movements were more aggressive, and she hesitated less – but she had some tells. She would give the smallest bounce before she made any move. Although she seemed on fire, Tamar could sense her growing tired. Y/N had landed awkwardly at some point, and even though she got back up – Tamar noticed her wincing and favoring her left shoulder. Tamar ended the fight quickly. 

She stood up again, on shaky legs, “another”. 

Tamar shook her head, “that’s enough for today”. 

“Come on, please”

“No”, Tamar gave Y/N a look that told her it was the end of the conversation. Y/N rolled her eyes but let Tamar wrap her arm around her waist and lead her back inside. She walked her to her doors, intending to say goodnight there but Y/N pulled her inside, closing the doors behind her. 

“Why haven’t you actually kissed me yet?” Y/N blurted out. They’d been flirting and dodging around each other for weeks. Tamar relished the stolen moments, small kisses, and general affection they had together but feared pushing anything too far. 

Tamar’s eyes raised, “Why haven’t you kissed me?” 

“Because I’ve been waiting on you”. 

Tamar reached for her, one arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her flush against her body – the other hand came up to fist the hair on the back of her head. The kiss wasn’t gentle, it was rough and full of passion. 

Y/N looked down at her clothes, “I need to change”. She walked off to the corner without another word and started stripping out of her clothes. She threw them into a corner before walking towards her bathroom, “feel free to join me”, she said turning back to look at Tamar, as she headed to fill up her bath. 

Y/N must have seen how Tamar’s jaw dropped through a mirror, she said “Close your mouth. You’ll catch flies”

Her mouth snapped shut, her cheeks flushing. Tamar wasn’t surprised often, but Y/N seemed to have a knack for it. 

“At least I’m not on duty tonight”, she thought to herself. Tamar wanted Y/N to be officially hers. They’d dodged around the conversation for a while, preferring to show each other how they felt through actions. They’d also avoided anything too intimate – holding hands, cuddling, and small kisses were about all they’d shared.  

She was lost in her thoughts for a few moments before she stripped and followed the princess into the bathroom. She admired her figure, lean muscle, with scars littering her arms and torso. A black sun tattoo stands out on her upper right shoulder. Tamar had given it to her the night before the ambush. She turned and caught sight of her rosy, pale nipples and forced herself to look Y/N in the eyes. 

Y/N  POV 

“Like what you see?” You asked with a flourish, filling the bath with hot, soapy water. You were pleasantly surprised Tamar had decided to follow her. It was your boldest move yet – and she was hoping it would pay off. 

“Yes, yes I do” Tamar’s eyes were roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her. You were doing the same, from the glint of muscle on her forearms to the perfect shape of her breasts, and the chiseled lines built into her stomach. 

You turned and climbed into the tub, waving Tamar over to follow you. The other girl rolled her eyes, it was a ridiculously oversized tub, ornate and ugly. You hated it and knew Tamar thought it was obscene. 

“This is the gaudiest tub I’ve ever seen”, you commented as she settled in the water. Tamar moved behind her, letting you rest up against her – she hummed in contentment. 

“Let me clean you up”, she said – Tamar reached for a rag and started dabbing at your split lip from training and scrubbed away the dirt you’d accumulated during the day. You turned around and returned the favor. You sat, enjoying each other’s presence, till the water started turning cold. Tamar climbed out first, lending you her hand, and grabbed two towels for both of you. 

You toweled yourself off, heading towards your wardrobe. You found a pair of comfortable loose black pants that looked like they could fit Tamar, and a rough spun top. You tossed them towards her and Tamar caught them gracefully, slipping on the clothes. 

You looked out the window, it was getting late – the sun had already set – and they’d missed dinner. Towel wrapped around you, you turned to Tamar, “will you spend the night with me?” you asked, a bit afraid of the answer. 

“If you want me to I will”. 

“But do you want to” You pushed 

“I do” Tamar smiled, she slipped around her and pulled out one of her old nightgowns she never uses anymore – 

“Here, I like this,” she said, you elbowed her but Tamar’s expression was serious. You sighed and dramatically rolled your eyes, 

“If you insist,” you said, quickly slipping it on. You grabbed a blue dressing gown and tied it around herself, “wait here”, she said, heading towards the doorway, “I’ll get us some dinner”. 

You took a secret passage out to the kitchens and saw Enya in there, cleaning up the last of dinner. 

“Any leftovers for me?” You asked

Enya jumped, “Quit scaring me”, she threw a towel at you. You ducked it and laughed. You’d grown up around Enya, and she was one of the few adults that didn’t treat her differently. 

“I’ll send you up a tray, now shoo,” she said. 

“Could it be two?” You asked. 

Enya hmphed but nodded, waving you away. 

You hurried back to her room as quickly as you could. You were happy Tamar was still inside, leaning back in an armchair, reading one of your books. She closed it as you entered the room. 

“What was that all about?” she asked. 

“Getting us some food” you smiled. 

“You could’ve rung for someone? That’s what your brother does”

“I like to visit Enya” 

“You know the kitchen staff?” Tamar asked, without a tone of surprise, more one of admiration 

“I did grow up here” you replied to her. 

You flopped down onto Tamar’s lap. “I hate these rooms” 

“Hm … why?” Tamar started kissing down her shoulder, biting gently near her neck as Y/N let out a small moan. 

“They’re too lonely”. 

Tamar stopped and turned her head to look at her. The other girl shrugged her shoulders and Tamar pulled her in for a kiss. 

“Move in with me”, she said without thinking. 

“I would in a heartbeat” 

“What would your brother say?” 

“Who cares”

“He is technically my employer” 

“He would never get rid of you” 

Tamar just hummed in reply. 

“Plus, he hasn’t quit telling me to make a move on you” 

Tamar leaned back to look at her, “Funny. Zoya’s been saying the same thing to me”. 

“Maybe we’re both just idiots”

“Just you, princess”. 

“Okay, humbug” 

“No”, Tamar started laughing

“Humbug” Y/N said in a sing-song voice. 

Tamar pinched her side, Y/N  squirmed in her lap, “Quit doing that”. 

Tamar whispered into her ear “Quit moving like that”. 

“Are you sure you want me to”, she answered, slightly breathless 

Then, a knock sounded on the door and you leapt up to answer it. You opened it and found two trays left on a table outside, ‘Enya must’ve told them to do that’, you thought. 

You smiled and brought the food in – it was your favorite type of meal. A bowl of some sort of stew, some bread, and grapes. You threw a grape at Tamar, who caught it in her mouth. 

You ate in silence; you didn’t realize how hungry you both were and devoured your food – it tasted like heaven. After you finished, you silently stood up to take the trays back outside the door. When you turned back around, you started to feel shy – and maybe a bit insecure. 

Tamar POV

As Y/N turned back to look at her, Tamar could see the hesitation on her face. She stood up to meet Y/N halfway, and pulled her into her arms, “are you sure you want me to stay?”

Y/N pulled her face back to look at Tamar, she leaned up on her toes and kissed her, “yes”, she said and kissed her again.  

Tamar grinned before picking her up and spinning her around. Y/N laughed, and it was a sweet sound. She picked her up, letting her wrap her legs around her waist, and carried her to the bed. They collapsed onto it together, a tangle of limbs and laughter.

“Can we just sleep?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet. 

“Of course, love,” Tamar said, she pulled the girl in closer, and let her cuddle up on her chest. She ran her fingers through her hair, and slowly fell asleep – listening to the sound of her heartbeat.

Y/N is an early riser like Tamar, she felt the other girl slip out of bed in the morning. She sat up to see Y/N standing next to one of the mirrors in the room, tilting her head to the side. Y/N slowly turned around, hands on her hips,

“TAMAR KIR-BATAAR” she screeched. 

“Yes?” she answered slowly. 

“What is this?” Y/N pointed at a purple bruise forming on her neck, stalking back over to the bed. 

“It’s a gift” Tamar grinned. 

“Take it back”

“No”

“Can’t you fix it?”

“I won't” 

Y/N groaned and Tamar pulled her in for another kiss.

[oliverreedmasterass]

Greta Van Fleet going on Americas Got Talent for the heck of it that’d be so fun

ADDISON HELLO IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE YOU SENT THIS IN I'M SO SORRY BUT TA DA I'VE GOT SOMETHING FOR YOU!!

The Greta Van Fleetles

Words: 3.2k words

Warnings: drinking, language, sexual innuendos, just overall buffoonery

Notes: Thank you @jmkho for recommending a little Beatles crossover, mixing my two favorite bands was a blast to write :)

-------------------------------------

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Jake asked from the backstage area of the Nashville arena, nervously playing with his dress shirt and fake beard. 

“Because it’s funny as hell,” Sam replied with a shrug. Beside him, Danny was struggling to tame his curly mane into a wig cap, wrestling with it on top of his head. Sam took a break from buttoning up his black fur coat and put his hands out to stop Danny. “You’re gonna rip your head off, let me help you.” 

Jake stared onwards at his younger brother, who was using both his hands to force the cap from the back of Danny’s head to his forehead. Danny’s eyes were squeezed shut in pain, but he didn’t utter a single sound. 

“I think this is an interesting direction for us,” Josh admitted. Jake turned back to study his twin and smirked at his long, dirty blonde wig, shaved face, and large round glasses. 

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Jake joked. Josh toyed with a few strands of the fake hair and gave Josh a goofy grin. “I have to get into the Liverpudlian mindset.” 

“What’s the plan anyways?” Jake turned back to Sam, since the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. Sam finally secured Danny’s wig cap with a loud snap, making Danny wince, and turned to Jake with triumph still etched across his face. 

“We go out there, get a few laughs, play ‘Dig a Pony,’ and call it a day.” 

“Why ‘Dig a Pony?’” Josh raised an eyebrow. 

Sam thought hard. “It’s a fun song.” 

Jake turned to Josh and studied him. “Do you even know the lyrics?” 

“John Lennon didn’t know them when he performed it on the rooftop,” Josh said back. “He had a poor PA hold up the lyrics like a human music stand.” 

“It’s a great marketing strategy,” Sam continued to talk at his bandmates. “I mean, we’ve got a new album out, this will get people talking and then they'll look into our stuff. If anything, I think it’s a genius plan.” 

“You would,” Jake had to laugh at his younger brother’s ego. “I think there’s a reason why most successful bands don’t go out on the America’s Got Talent stage dressed as a Beatles cover band.” 

“That’s because they don’t think outside the box,” Sam pointed out. 

“I think you just want to do this to prove to people that you look like George Harrison,” Danny shared his thoughts. Jake smirked at the shaggy mop of a wig that Danny had placed on his head. It didn’t quite suit him, but it also didn’t look horrible. 

“Would that be a crime?” Sam crossed his arms. With the bright green pants, furry black coat, and Fender strapped to him, he really did resemble the late Beatles lead guitarist. In comparison to Sam, Jake hardly looked like Paul McCartney. With Josh’s help, he had managed to slip on his own shaggy, chocolate brown wig earlier and had a big, bushy beard that entirely covered his lips. His dark three piece suit and Hofner violin bass hanging over his shoulder were really the only indicators that he was supposed to be Paul McCartney. Jake was frustrated that Sam had managed to convince him to take over on the bass for their performance because he hated being away from his guitar, but he tried to suck it up. It was for a silly American reality show. Sure, their performance would air on television, but it wasn’t like the stakes were entirely that high. 

“It really is an elaborate plan, Sam,” Josh had to muse. “Most people are already in agreement that you’re the reincarnation of George Harrison.” 

“I think Sam’s up to something else,” Danny thought aloud while trying to straighten his wig. “I bet it’s a way to dodge the Led Zeppelin comparisons. It’ll help if you sing more like John Lennon than Robert Plant.” 

“You know I don’t sing like Robert Plant on purpose, right?” Josh shook his head back at Danny in disbelief. “But I can do a mean John Lennon accent,” he added, pitching his voice to be more nasally, British, and full. 

“Good, keep in character,” Sam gave Josh a thumbs up. “That’ll make this bit even funnier.” 

“Ay,” Josh continued to speak like John Lennon. “Swap out the ‘S’ for an ‘N’ in my name, I’ll only answer to the name John now.” 

“You spell your name J-O-N-H?” Danny cocked his head to the side. 

“Aw fuck,” Josh smacked himself in the forehead, breaking character. “My damn dyslexia. I really thought I had done something there.” 

Danny chuckled at Josh’s mistake, and pulled on the plastic red coat that he and Sam had thrifted earlier that day. He grabbed two drumsticks from the table next to him and spun them around a few times, looking around at his bandmates. 

“Do I make a good Ringo?” he asked with his eyebrow raised. 

“You will in a second,” Sam replied. 

“Oh?” Danny asked. Sam searched around in his tote bag and retrieved a fake mustache, which he carried to Danny and pressed on his upper lip. 

“I hereby declare thee, Richard Starkey,” Sam announced. 

“I’d like to be, under the sea, in an Octopus’s Garden,” Danny started to jokingly sing, which Sam met with a loud laugh. 

“Are you guys ready to go?” Terry Crews joined their circle, wrapping his arms around Jake and Josh’s shoulders. “You all look great.” 

“Ready, we are,” Josh nodded. “Time to make some bleedin’ history.” 

Terry Crews motioned for them to take the stage and, with their heads held high, the four strutted to center stage, met by a loud applause from the audience. Sam’s smile was wide as he centered himself in front of the microphone and looked down at Simon Cowell, Heidi Klum, Howie Mandel, and Sofia Vergara. 

“You look familiar,” Howie called up to them with a twinkle in his eye. “Did you stumble across a time machine or something?” 

“What year is it?” Danny leaned forward to joke into the microphone, sporting a pretty impressive Ringo impression. 

“2023,” Sofia replied with a chuckle. 

“Well lads,” Jake stepped forward to look around at his band members, “it looks like we accidentally just took the trip of a lifetime.” 

“That’s what happens when ye get by with a ‘lil help from yer friends,” Josh added. 

“What are you going to be performing tonight?” Simon asked, seemingly unamused by their comedy routine. Sam took the hint and found his place back in front of the microphone, clearing his throat. 

“We’ll be doing, uh, ‘Dig a Pony,’ off the Let It Be album,” he declared. 

“Go on then,” Simon nodded.  

“He is mean,” Danny whispered to Sam as they moved away from center stage. 

“We are The Greta Van Fleetles,” Josh spoke into his microphone, pausing for a brief second to flash a cheeky wink back at Sam, Danny, and Jake. “One, two, three, four!” He counted the group in. 

Sam chose “Dig A Pony” as their song, not only because it was easily one of The Beatles’ more bizarre songs, but also because the bass and guitar parts were essentially the same. He had been insistent that he play guitar so he could entirely assume the role of George Harrison, which Jake hadn’t been thrilled about, but they both knew that they could manage to trade instruments. 

As they started the song, Sam felt like they were doing a pretty good job, playing in time with Danny’s enthusiastic beat, syncing up each note perfectly. 

“I-hi-hi, hi-hi, dig a pony,” Josh sang in a lower register once the song slowed down to the first verse. “But you can celebrate anything you want, yes, you can celebrate anything you want.” 

Jake, still playing Paul’s bass part, hurried across the stage to join Josh at his microphone and sing a higher harmony, which made Sam nearly laugh out loud. 

“I-hi-hi, hi-hi, do a road hog?” Jake and Josh both sang with their eyebrows furrowed, obviously not remembering the lyrics. 

“But you can penetrate any place you want,” Josh belted out, without realizing what he was singing, causing Jake to burst out into a cacophony of wheezes and giggles, most of which the microphone picked up. 

“Yes, you can penetrate any place you want,” Jake harmonized with Josh once more, in between gasps as he tried to catch his breath. 

Down at the judge’s table, Simon hit the red buzzer. 

“Aw, c’mon!” Sam couldn’t help but yell down at him. He really wasn’t good at handling criticism. Simon shrugged back at him, as if saying, it’s not my fault you guys stink. Sam tried to not let it get to him, but he missed a few notes as they built up to the chorus. 

“ALL I WANT IS YEW!” Josh and Jake both hollered into the microphone, starting to sound a bit pitchy. “ANYTHING HAS GOT TO DO ME LIKE YOU WANNA DO-OO-OO-OO-OO-OO-OOH, BECAUUUSE.” 

“Those aren’t the lyrics,” Danny groaned from his drumstand. “You guys are fucking it up.” 

This only made Jake laugh harder, and to Sam and Danny’s dismay, they watched as he turned his back to the audience and took a break from playing his bass to wipe the fat tears away from his eyes. Sofia and Heidi both slammed their fists down on the red buzzer, and Sam threw his head back to groan in despair. 

The negative reception from the judges only made Jake cackle harder and, with his goofy mood unlocked, he made his way back to Josh and the microphone stand and did a loud “Whoooo!” into the microphone while bashing his head around, to the point where his wig flung off and flew across the stage. 

“Wrong era of Beatles!” Sam scolded Jake for his buffoonery. Josh pulled the microphone off its stand and twirled the cord around a few times as he danced over to Jake’s wig, which was sitting in a dark brown pile on the edge of the stage. Josh balanced on one leg and reached down to grab the wig, securing it on top of his own wig and gave Howie a wink, which he returned. 

“I-hi-hi, hi-hi, rode a pony,” Josh returned back to butchering the lyrics. 

“Give me the mic, I’ll sing it right,” Danny shouted down at him. Josh was incredibly tickled by how easily offended Danny got by Beatles slander. 

“Well, you can imitate everyone you know,” Josh crooned, lowering his fake glasses down onto the bridge of his nose and wiggling his eyebrows a few times for the cameras. “Yes, you can imitate everyone you know,” he sang a second time in a falsetto wail. Jake’s laughter was picked up again by the mics when the crowd started to cheer Josh on. 

“ALL I WANT IS YEW!” Josh hollered as he filled with confidence. “HEEBA DEEBA BOOBIE DOOBIE SCOOBIE DOOBIE DO-OO-OO-OO-OO-OO-OOH.” 

Behind him, Danny grumbled something and Sam missed his cue to break into his guitar solo. He loudly cursed at his error and then struggled to get the timing right, making a collection of squeaks with heavy feedback. In his moment of panic, he accidentally started to play a terrible rendition of the “Stairway to Heaven” solo. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jake howled in delight at his brother’s mistake. “No Stairway!” 

“I didn’t realize you knew how to play Stairway,” Josh accidentally spoke into the mic. 

“I don’t,” Sam’s face was red with embarrassment. He dropped his hands down to his side in defeat, leaving only Danny to carry the tune, and Howie slammed his fist down on the red buzzer, officially eliminating them. 

“I’d like to say thank you on behalf of our group, and I hope we’ve passed the audition,” Josh spoke over the boos from the crowd. 

“Well, you didn’t,” Simon stared the band down. Jake pulled his wig cap off and shook his short hair out before giving Simon a fake pout. 

“Ah, fooey,” he mumbled. 

“I was holding out hope for you guys,” Howie said, “You almost pulled it off.” 

“How do you feel about second chances?” Josh attempted to flash another grin in Howie’s direction. Howie studied the faces of his fellow judges to see how they were feeling, and then turned back to Josh with a shrug. 

“Why not?” he guessed. 

Josh took his cue to rip off his own wig and glasses, which he flung off stage, hitting Terry Crews in the face, and clapped his hands together. 

“My name is Josh Kiszka,” he shouted with all of his might. “And I give you,” he broke for a dramatic pause, “Magic.” 

“Oh lord,” Danny shook his head in disbelief from off to the side. “Not on live television.” 

Josh planted his feet firmly on the stage and took a low stance. 

“What you’re about to witness is not for the faint of heart,” Josh announced. “I’m going to show you the magical prowess of an enchanter.” 

He had the audience, judges, Jake, and Sam in the palm of his hand as he sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled. Slowly, he lifted his hands up, stretched them behind his head, and moved them back upwards to be visible once more. The audience watched as Josh’s index fingers and thumbs looped together in a connected chain. He held his interlocked fingers out in front of him for everyone to see and then, slowly once more, moved them back behind his head. 

“When I do the reveal, all I ask is that you remain calm,” he declared. The entire stadium was still in anticipation. “ALAKAZAM”! Josh screamed, raising his hands back up towards the sky, showing that they were no longer linked together. 

“Oh my god,” Danny shook his head. 

“What?” Sofia asked from the judge’s table. “What was that?” 

“Magic,” Josh answered with a grin. 

All four judges pressed down hard on their red buttons. 

“I see you’re too close-minded to truly appreciate my powers,” Josh protested. 

Jake, who had somehow managed to drink half a bottle of pinot noir while Josh performed his magic trick, stumbled back onto the stage and pointed down at the judges. 

“This will be sure to impress you.” 

“Terry? Where’s Terry?” Heidi searched around, trying to find their host to remove the hooligans from the stage. On the wing, Terry was sitting on the floor in a daze with a medic who was tending to a nasty gash on his head, earned from Josh’s glasses hitting him earlier. 

Jake spun around in a staggering circle, waving his fists over his head, and then attempted to jump down into the splits. Everyone winced at the sound of his pants ripping down the middle and his knees cracking with a loud pop. 

“I guess I can’t do that move anymore,” he squeaked out in pain and toppled over onto his side. Sam stepped over him and tore off his oversized coat, revealing his bare chest. 

“Can you please get them off the stage?” Simon shouted at the security guards, who were apparently non-existent. 

“You want talent? I’ll show you talent,” Sam stated with the utmost intensity, still butthurt that they hadn’t gotten the golden buzzer for their Beatles cover. The judges gaped at him as he slapped his hand under his armpit and started to swing his other arm up and down, pooting out a string of farting noises. 

“Go Sam, go!” Josh cheered his younger brother on. Sam maintained direct eye contact with Simon as he let out an impressive line of 16th notes with his armpit, and then broke into a tune that slightly resembled the “Can-Can.” 

While Sam played away, Jake attempted to rebound from his devastating dance injury and started to spin circles on the floor, holding his weight up on his shoulder while his legs pushed him around. Josh revisited his magic trick, shouting at the audience that he bet they couldn’t guess how he was pulling it off. To the crowd, it was challenging to watch the three brothers at once, since so much was going on. Danny stood back by his drum kit and stared at Sam, Jake, and Josh with a frown. He had never considered going on America’s Got Talent, but he was curious if he had enough raw talent to be voted onto the show. 

He stepped down from his drum stand, removed his wig and mustache, and pulled off his red coat, revealing a black button up shirt and dress pants. After tucking his drumsticks into his back pocket, he reached down to retrieve the Fender Sam had left unattended on the ground. The feedback buzzed at his touch, and he placed the strap over his head with a soft grunt. While Jake, Josh, and Sam continued their clowning, he stepped up to Sam’s microphone and strummed a quick chord. 

“Day after day, alone on a hill,” Danny started to sing while playing along on the guitar. “The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still.” 

The chaos at center stage started to wind down as Danny’s warm vocals washed over the audience. Jake’s spinning slowed to a halt and he laid on his side to watch his friend sing his heart out. Josh had his hands flopped to his side and he gaped at Danny. Sam tried to play along with him using his armpit. 

“But nobody wants to know him, they can see that he’s just a fool, and he never gives an answer,” Danny’s voice grew with more confidence. “But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down, and the eyes in his head see the world spinning round.” 

Josh snapped back to life and started to whistle along to the flute part while Danny hummed. He sang a few runs, just to show off a bit, and then played the final note. Almost immediately he was met by a thunderous applause. 

“Who knew Ringo could sing?” Howie joked. 

“Why didn’t you start with that?” Sofia added. “That was incredible!” 

Simon stared down at the line of judges and arched an eyebrow. 

“I say we go for him, what are your votes?” 

“Yes for me, absolutely,” Sofia nodded. 

“Definitely,” Howie agreed. 

“Yup,” Heidi smiled. 

“And that’s a yes for me,” Simon stated as he wrote something down on his notepad. “Congratulations, Ringo.” 

The crowd’s cheers were deafening. 

“We made it?” Josh perked up. 

“No, only Danny,” Jake leaned into his side. 

“Huh?” Josh didn’t seem like he could process what had happened. 

“Oh god, he’s gonna go solo,” Sam tugged on his face in despair. 

“I’m going to decline that offer,” Danny spoke into the microphone with a playful grin. “I was just curious if you would take the bait.” 

“Oh,” Heidi breathed out in shock. 

“I have a new record to promote with my band, Greta Van Fleet,” Danny explained as he motioned back at his bandmates. Taking the opportunity, Danny turned towards the camera and pointed at it. “Starcatcher: July 21st, 2023.” 

“Now that’s what I call marketing!” Sam perked back up to exclaim. The three brothers rushed to Danny’s side and embraced him in a bear hug. 

“Thanks for not leaving the band,” Josh whispered to Danny. 

“There’d have to be a lot more tension in the band for me to pull a Ringo and leave,” Danny replied. 

“Please get off the stage,” Terry Crews spoke to them, holding an ice pack up to his bandaged head. “I think you’ve done enough.”

[so-many-crushes]

Tomato Soup For The Soul

Hello hello! I decided to do @rhiatargoed-selfships's SafeShiptember!

Prompt: Day 25- Taking care of one another if one of you happens to catch a cold. Summary: After Robin’s girlfriend comes down with a cold, it’s up to her to take care of Alice (if she’ll let her) Word count: ~1.4k

Alice felt like she had been hit by a bus. She hadn’t left her house in two days- the most movement she had done recently was walking from her bed to the living room couch. Alice truly hated being sick and would often try to power through it, but when her dad saw the thermometer read 103°F she knew there was no way she’d make it to work that day. So Alice was spread out on the couch for another day, blanket covering her body, and tissues on the coffee table. She finally began to doze off when a sudden knock at the door made her jolt awake. Wrapping her blanket over her shoulders like a cape, the redhead trudged to the window to peek out and see who was interrupting her nap. 

“Robin?” Alice said as she opened the front door, “What are you doing here?”

“Hi babe,” Robin said, brushing past Alice and into the cabin. “I heard you’re still sick.” She frowned before adding, “You look like shit.”

“Gee thanks.” Alice sneezed, “What’re you doing here?” She asked again.

“I heard you’re still sick.” Robin repeated, “I’m here to make you feel better.” She held up the paper grocery bags she was holding before placing them on the kitchen counter and heading back over to Alice, “Because I’m the best girlfriend in the world.” She leaned in for a kiss.

“Are you kidding me?” Alice dodged out of the way.

Robin raised an eyebrow, “Uh? Yeah? I’m the best girlfriend in the world.” She leaned in for a kiss again.

This time Alice held up her blanket in front of her lips. “I’m sick, Rob. You’re not staying with me, let alone kissing me. Besides-” Alice looked at the clock “Shouldn’t you be in class? How did you even get here? Did Steve drop you off?”

Robin simply shrugged, “I think I’ll be fine missing Mr. Mundy’s class and band practice, and no- Steve did not drive me, he’s too busy working. I rode my bike.”

“You rode your bike all the way here?” Alice groaned, why did her girlfriend have to be such a sweetheart? “Robbie…”

“Not my fault you basically live in the middle of the woods, and like I said,” Robin pointed to herself, “Best girlfriend in the world.”

“Ugh, fine, you can stay since you biked all the way here, but!” Alice narrowed her eyes, “You’re not getting a kiss because I’ll be damned if I get you sick.”

Robin stuck out her bottom lip, “Even though I got you a gift?” She reached into her backpack and pulled something out.

“Robin…” Alice's narrow eyes softened as she looked at the comic book in the taller girl’s hands. “You didn’t have to-”

“Aaaand,” she slid a second book out from the first one, “This one too.”

“Baby, you really didn’t have to do that. It’s a double issue.”

“But I got the right ones, right?” Robin grinned as she handed Alice the comic books, Uncanny X-Men Volume 200 and Crisis on Infinite Earths Volume 6.

“Yes, baby, I haven’t had a chance to get these yet.”

“Thank god, I had to ask one of your coworkers for help, there are too many comics in that store.”

Alice chuckled, “I’m paying you back, you know that right?”

“Sweetheart, it was like two bucks total. I’ll take two kisses instead.”

“You’re getting your two dollars, Buckley.” Alice said as she placed the new comics next to her tissues on the table.

“Yes, ma’am.” Robin saluted. “Are you hungry?” She moved back over to the grocery bags she placed on the counter.

Robin blushed, not used to someone caring for her like this in a long time, “A little bit, I guess.”

“Good,” Robin beamed as she took ingredients from the bags, “Lay down and go back to whatever you were watching, while I take care of my girlfriend.” Her gaze wandered to the television and back to Alice, “What are you watching?”

Alice glanced at the tv and tried to remember which VHS she put in to fall asleep to. “‘Revenge of the Cybermen.’” Alice held up the empty Doctor Who VHS case.

The brunette’s eyes flickered from the sci-fi show to the Marvel and DC comic books to Alice in her faded Star Wars shirt before she began to cackle, “I always forget how big of a nerd you are! How were you not bullied in high school?”

Alice’s face flushed, “First of all, I’m not a nerd! Second, I was with Steve most of the time, so no one bothered me.” Alice lied, she was bullied- just not for being a nerd.

“Ah, popular by proxy.” Robin made her way to Alice before sweeping her up into a hug and spinning her around. “My totally cool, totally popular, totally not a geek girlfriend.”

“Robin, I’m gonna throw up if you keep spinning me!” Alice laughed despite feeling more lightheaded from spinning than the cold.

“Fine, fine.” Robin placed Alice back on the ground and kissed her forehead before the girl could protest. Robin pulled back and frowned, “I was going to make you soup but you’re burning up.” Robin rested the back of her hand on Alice’s forehead, cold metal rings against warm skin.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m freezing.” Alice said as she wrapped her blanket around her, as if on queue Robin saw a chill run through Alice’s body. “I think soup is the only thing that’ll cure me.” She batted her eyes.

“Then soup it is.” Robin turned Alice around and smacked her ass towards the couch. Alice huffed as she sat down and took a sip of her water.

The couple chatted idly as Robin made a mess in the kitchen, after about forty five minutes Robin told her partner to sit at the kitchen table and close her eyes.

“Alright,” Alice heard Robin say as she placed dishes and silverware on the table, “You can open them.” Alice opened her eyes and looked at her girlfriend, “Ta-da!” Robin grinned and did jazz hands, “Homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese!” 

“Rob, really, you didn’t have to do all this; I would’ve been fine with a can of Campbell’s-” Alice looked at the food in front of her before bursting out in laughter. “You cut the-?” Alice’s laughter quickly turned into a coughing fit, as if her cold wanted to remind her she was still sick.

Robin patted Alice on the back as her coughing finally died down, “You don’t like it?” Robin looked at the bowl of soup and the grilled cheese that she did in fact cut into the shape of a heart.

Alice took a gasp of air and regained her composure, “No, no, baby, I love it so much.” She stood up and pulled the other girl in for a hug, “I love you so much.”

Robin blushed, “You haven’t even had any of it yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alice looked up into Robin’s eyes, “You made it, so I love it and it must taste good.” She pulled her girlfriend down and kissed her on the lips.

“I thought you weren’t kissing me?” Robin blushed even more once the pair pulled apart.

“I guess I’ll just have to take care of you.”

The couple sat at the table and Robin watched carefully as Alice took her first bite of soup. The redhead sighed as she felt the warm soup flow through her aching body.

“It’s good?” Robin asked, “It’s my mom’s new recipe, this is my first time making it.”

“It’s delicious, baby.” Alice smiled as Robin took a bite from her own bowl.

The two continued their conversation from earlier, Robin complaining that Gabby in the flute section in the band couldn’t handle a four count. Alice listened to Robin’s ramblings, a lovesick expression on her face as she dipped her heart-shaped sandwich into her soup and took a bite.

Eventually, Alice and Robin finished their meals and made their way to the couch, Robin stretched her legs out onto the coffee table. Alice laid down and rested her head in her girlfriend’s lap, slowly falling asleep to the sound of the television and the feeling of Robin running her fingers through her hair. It was the best Alice had felt in a while.

[markwateneymemorialcrater]

Honestly. CGI in movies peaked in the late 2000’s. Pirates of the Caribbean 3 probably being a notable peak. However that movie also marked the acceptance of overworking the CGI artists by studios. Like if you watch At Worlds End, Davy jones looks better than the CGI characters in marvel movies, despite having 15 years more advanced GCI and able to do far better renders.

Look at that majestic squid man! Totally reads are real.

So why is CGI in block busters now relatively bad? A lot of it can be blamed on studios unloading more work onto CGI artists rather than on pre production (avoidance of unions is part of why) i think they are also over-relying on CGI. Why devote 20 union set designers and builders a month of time to build a good set when you can film on a green screen, and farm out a cgi team in Asia for Pennie’s on the dollar?

Another thing that i think made the CGI in the 2000’s read better than modern day CGI is that is was still kinda shit. They had to work around its limitations. Davy Jones looks fantastic because they still used the actors eyes and makeup so they didn’t have to animate too much of the human emotion in eyes. They also were able to dodge the uncanny valley by simply making him so monstrous as to not read as “human”. They were able to get around his skin looking too rubbery by making him look constantly wet and you get those bright reflections so don’t have to worry about complicated light scattering within skin. Also he’s a squid man. He should look kinda rubbery anyways.

Let’s look at another CGI pioneer from the early 2000’s. Lord of the rings. Even more limited technology. But they used as many practical and in camera effects as possible. Where they use CGI, it’s to expand on the practical effects. It’s to blend a miniature with a full scale set shot. It was to add ten thousand horse riders to the 100 you got in full costume. Costumes by the way that were good enough even at the background character level to still be believable in close ups.

So this is a good give to demonstrate the blending of techniques. We have a miniature shot in the tower of orthanc. A full scale actor in costume in the foreground, and a fully CGI character (time to flex my LOTR knowledge and say that is the Ent Quickbeam) who is moving with believable weight and inertia for its size as well as having a fire simulation.

And sure. Some there are tells to the social effects. The CGI fire simulation looks a bit off. But it isn’t distracting. It still reads as believable.

And then look at marvel

The costumes are CGI. The background is CGI. The only thing that isn’t CGI is their heads. Which are still touched up with CGI to make it match the CGI. It also means that the actors have nothing to act against so their performance is affected.

Marvel movies have completely eliminated the concept of practical effects from the movie-watching public’s consciousness

[waitingona-mirabel]

Rage | Self Para

Date: Autumn 2023 Featuring: The DnD crew (Dipper, Eilonwy, Ian, Tony, and an NPC) Warnings: Vague reference to fictional axe violence, extreme artistic liberties with the game Dungeons and Dragons, the author of this still doesn't really understand bonus actions but just go with it

Mirabel had been saving her rage for the entire session. She only had two slots for it at this point, as Ryna was still a first-level barbarian, and Mirabel was careful about not wasting those limited advantages that characters had at the beginning. She was also holding onto the bardic inspiration Apollo had given her— even though Dipper had encouraged her multiple times to use it. Mirabel just wanted it to be the right time.

Now, it seemed, was the right time. After a long battle with a group of mysterious tentacles, two members of the party were still grappled by one of the tentacles, while Val had to spend her turn trying to heal someone who was grievously injured. It was only Ryna, hacking away at the tentacle to little avail as Mirabel rolled nat one after nat one and holding onto just a few health points. Things were looking bleak.

And then the tentacle came for Ryna.

“I’m just saying, now would be a really good time to use a bonus action!” Dipper prompted, and Mirabel took a deep breath. She didn’t want to mess this up. What if she was the reason someone died!

(Okay, Dipper had said he probably wouldn’t let level one beginners die in such an early session, but still).

“I go into a rage!” Mirabel said, heart pounding as she could feel the pressure mounting. Dipper looked thrilled. Everyone else looked relieved. Finally, their faces seemed to say. But Mirabel did not feel relieved— she had two chances to get this right before she was out of rage slots. “Can you, uh, remind me what that does?”

“You have resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage, you get advantage on strength checks, and you roll with advantage on saving throws. Like right now, since the tentacle is coming after you!”

“Okay! Okay,” Mirabel said, furrowing her eyebrows and rolling to dodge the tentacle. Once- no luck. But on the second try, she succeeded! Mirabel cheered and pumped her fist.

“Describe it!” encouraged another party member.

“What do you mean?”

“Describe the rage! What is Ryna doing?”

Mirabel looked down at the book that the group had been passing around. It was turned, not-so-subtly, to the Barbarian class page. Probably because Mirabel hadn’t used her bonus action all session.

This was the reason Mirabel had felt drawn to the barbarian class from the beginning. To Ryna. 

For every barbarian, rage is a power that fuels not just a battle frenzy but also uncanny reflexes, resilience, and feats of strength.

“She’s thinking about her home. It’s… it’s on an island, so she’s seen these tentacles before, she’s had to fight them before. That’s how she knows how to get away from them.” Mirabel had only written up a rudimentary biography for Ryna and it didn’t include tentacles or an island, but she had to make this make sense, right?

Plus, she liked the idea of Ryna as someone who had grown up on an island. For some reason.

“But sometimes she wishes she hadn’t gotten away. That she’d stayed and fought them, instead of just running off with the first caravan she could find. And now’s her chance to do it. She never got that chance before. She’s angry with herself for running the first time, but she’s even angrier at the tentacles, because somehow after all these years they’re still here and hurting the people she cares about and now things might be changing but she just doesn’t know, she can’t be sure, and she can’t even—” 

For some reason, Mirabel’s voice cracked.

And then she looked around the circle and saw that everyone looked a bit concerned. That was… probably not what they meant when they said to describe the rage, was it?

Her face turned red. 

“Um, I mean, Ryna’s gonna go in with the axe and try and cut the other two free,” she said, realizing that was probably, actually what the question was. She rolled twice. Thirteen. Then twenty.

Dipper still looked a bit dumbfounded. “That’ll crit… uh, do we want to take a break?”

There was no typical celebration of an enemy vanquished, just some sober looks exchanged. Mirabel stared at her character sheet, mortified. 

“I’m gonna, uh, get some water,” Mirabel said, just to spare everyone. Maybe they’d have questions. Probably. They were good friends, and good party members, and they looked out for one another. But Mirabel got the vibe that the tension in the room might dissipate a little if she stepped out. Also, because she was afraid she was going to cry. For some reason. 

She found herself, inexplicably, typing out a message to Elena, and then she felt very silly and deleted it. The princess of Avalor did not need to know about Mirabel's weird DnD outburst, especially not when she was about to go fight some tentacles— er, evil sorcerers— herself.

Mirabel splashed some water on her face and took a deep, shaky breath. Rage only lasted one minute. Which felt like an eternity in DnD time. You could do a lot in a minute, and then it went away as quickly as it had appeared. "You're fine," Mirabel muttered to herself in the mirror. That was what she had to tell herself. And everyone else, if they asked.

Or maybe Mamá was right. As usual.

Nah. The rage was over. Well, for now.

[raeynbowboi]

How to Play as Bugs Bunny in DnD 5e

That’s right, today we’re building the epic icon of Bugs Bunny. As the star of Looney Tunes, I could think of nobody better to start with than Bugs Bunny. Now, Bugs has a lot of tricks up his sleeve. He’s a master of disguise, misdirection, manipulation, he can pull items out of the hammerspace behind his back, and defy the laws of physics. So, clearly Bugs is some kind of all-powerful trickster. But how do we build him?

For his race, Bugs is a Harengon, a type of rabbitfolk from the feywild. We’ll give him +2 CHA, +1 DEX. As a Harengon, Bugs is a Fey type creature immune to the effects of spells like Charm Person and Hold Person that specify a humanoid target. He also gains proficiency with Perception, adds his proficiency bonus to his initiative rolls, add a d4 to a failed DEX saving throw, and jump five feet times his proficiency bonus.

 For his background, Bugs is most famous for his ability to pull things over on unsuspecting maroons. We’ll label him as a Charlatan. Now, why is he not a Performer? Because Charlatans get automatic proficiency with the Disguise Kit. If there’s anything he’s known for, it’s his disguises.

 In terms of Alignment, Bugs tap dances on the border between Chaotic Good and Chaotic Neutral.

BARD COLLEGE OF CREATION

Bugs is undeniably a Bard. He has a long history as a Vaudeville type performer, even canonically being a famous performer in numerous cartoons. In one, his gags with Elmer Fudd even began as a comedy routine they performed on stage, and later evolved to make them a famous comedy duo. In others, he’s a famous celebrity famed for his career in show business. So, he’s definitely a Bard. But, what College? Well, that would be the college of creation. They can create musical notes that attack people, they can pull items out of nowhere, which by 14th level can be Huge items,  they can animate objects around them like some old black-and-white cartoon from the 20s or 30s, and by late game, he can make multiple items at once. As a Bard, we get any three skills, and we’ll take Performance, Persuasion, and Stealth.

Name: Bugs Bunny Race: Harengon Background: Charlatan Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

STATS STR 8 DEX 20 CON 12 INT 12 WIS 14 CHA 20

SAVING THROWS STR -1 DEX +11 CON +1 INT +1 WIS +2 CHA +11

HP: 123 AC: 15 PB: +6 SDC: 19 SAB: +11 PP: 24 Initiative: +11 Bardic Inspiration: (5) 1d12

SKILLS Deception (+17) Perception (+14) Performance (+11) Persuasion (+17) Sleight of Hand (+17) Stealth (+11)

SPELLS

C Friends, Mage Hand, Minor Illusion, Prestidigitation, Vicious Mockery 1 Charm Person, Command, Disguise Self, Silvery Barbs, Tasha’s Hideous Laughter 2 Mirror Image, Enthrall, Gift of Gab, Suggestion 3 Antagonize (UA), Dispel Magic 4 Charm Monster, Confusion, Polymorph 5 Dream, Geas, Mislead 6 Mass Suggestion, Otto’s Irresistible Dance 7 Teleport (how he often ends up in the wrong place) 8 Glibness 9 True Polymorph

BARDIC MAGICAL SECRETS 10th Counterspell, Fly 14th Fabricate, Creation 18th Contingency, Reverse Gravity

WHY NOT ROGUE?

Some may wonder why I didn’t even consider the Rogue for Bugs Bunny. After all, Rogue does have some useful features. Uncanny Dodge and Evasion go a long way to make Bugs as slippery as he is, and that’s a good point. They also get another skill, giving him the chance to pick up Insight proficiency. Sneak Attack bonus also lets Bugs capitalize on his sneaky underhanded tactics. But, there’s a good reason why I chose Bard. Firstly, Arcane Trickster Rogues work off Intelligence, and Bugs is not book smart. He’s a wise guy and a charmer, but one of his common running gags is mispronouncing common sayings, like saying maroon instead of moron. Arcane Tricksters are also cut off at the 4th level, cutting Bugs off from great spells like Creation and Mislead, which go so well with his tactics. Any other type of rogue doesn’t get any spells, which deviates from where Bugs Bunny shines as a DnD Character.

Bugs is a character I’ve wanted to build for a while. I was going to do him when the Harengon came out, and then I just kind of forgot and left him sitting on a backburner. But he can do everything I would hope for. He’s clever, charming, and most importantly of all, great at manipulating people without outright brainwashing them. Just exploiting their stupidity. And since the Bard of Creation can create just about anything out of thin air, it really lets the player let their imagination run wild. Let’s see how intimidating Strahd is after he’s had an anvil dropped on his head.

[heliads]

Hi can I ask a request where reader is child of the Swan Queen and Siegfried..? And they were sent away as a baby away from storybrooke to protect them from rumplestilskin? And when 17 years later when Peter finds about this he kidnaps them somehow as a blackmail? To defeat Emma and Hook..? But he slowly falls for them? You know like enemies to lovers prompt? Please?

i love writing for peter pan so i'm so glad you requested this!

masterlist

You are barely two miles out of Storybrooke, and already something feels wrong. It’s more than the usual hurt of leaving home, of leaving your family, but something more. This is not grief but fear, raw-edged paranoia, and it eats at you like a hound.

Your footsteps cease in an instant, the crunch of leaves you’d been trying so hard to hide finally falling silent. You turn around slowly, casting your gaze about you, but see nothing other than growing darkness. The shadows at the bases of the neighboring trees seem to grow, stretching out as if they had fingers to touch you. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the one closest to you almost seems human.

You know better, though. The danger lurks in the town behind you, not in these forests. Your parents sent you away from Storybrooke to protect you from Rumplestiltskin, and there’s no way he’d find you out here. You’re not even sure if you know where you are, so some creepy guy with a bad name couldn’t possibly figure it out.

A wind blows through the trees, shaking a few leaves to the ground. You shiver and turn back around. Worrying isn’t going to help you at this point. Your parents tried to save you by sending you out, you have to make their efforts worth it.

Despite your best attempts, the feeling doesn’t go away. In fact, it gets even worse, as if there’s something right behind you, breathing down your neck. You keep an eye out, but there’s nothing there. You swear you can hear something out in the forest somewhere nearby, but can see no sign of it. It gives you the uncomfortable feeling of being the prey to a rather twisted hunter.

At last, you can take it no more, and call out to the surrounding wilderness. “Whoever’s out there, I know you’re there. Either show yourself or go away.”

Leaves crackle in a dim echo, and then a voice answers you. “Well, if you insist.”

It comes from the space somewhere to your left, and you whirl around to see a boy emerging from the trees. He wears roughspun green clothes, and you can see a long knife strapped to a belt around his hips. Even without his dress, though, you’d be able to tell that something about this boy isn’t right.

The secret lies in his eyes. They’re a bright, fierce green, and they watch you with an uncanny knowledge. Although you’ve never met him before, somehow you know with certainty that he knows everything about you- your parents, your reason for leaving, every secret you have ever tried to hide.

He grins slightly, as if he can tell exactly what you’re thinking. “I’ll admit, this isn’t the most formal setting for us to meet, but it gets the job done. I’m going to need you to come with me.”

You take a step backwards. “Not a chance.” All you know about this boy is that he’s been following you, maybe even since the moment you left town. The idea of going anywhere alone with him doesn’t strike you as smart.

The boy just shakes his head. “I think we’ve both had some sort of misunderstanding. You never had a choice.”

Eyes wide, you turn to run, but he’s suddenly standing before you, having moved across the small clearing in an instant. You make to dodge around him but he extends an arm, catching you by the wrist.

A faint smirk on his lips is the only sign that his demeanor is anything more than solid stone. “Don’t feel too badly about it. Few people can get in between me and what I want.” With that, he snaps his fingers, and the world disappears in a rush of black.

You awake in darkness, fighting a swirl of vertigo currently clouding your vision. At first, you can’t figure out where you are, and then the memories of what just happened come pricking back in at the corners of your head. After everything your parents had done to save you, you’d gone and gotten kidnapped anyway.

Your parents. It hurts to think about them. Your parents are Odette the Swan Queen and Siegfried the prince, one of the best examples of true love persevering over all. They’ve been through a lot together at the hands of Baron von Rothbart, that evil sorcerer, but they were supposed to be happy again. Turns out kind epilogues aren’t given fairly.

You scrub a hand over your face, trying to force the lingering darkness from your vision. When you blink the last of the spots from your eyes, you realize that you’re in the middle of a dense, dark forest, and without knowing how you know it, this isn’t the forest you were in mere moments before. Most importantly, though, there are bars of some kind of wood trapping you in place. When you reach out, testing them, you discover them to be made of something almost like bamboo.

Before you can think too long about why you appear to be in a cage, a boy strides forward from the trees. You feel your shoulders stiffen at the sight of him- it’s the same boy you’d seen in the forest earlier, the one who’d brought you here.

He cocks his head to the side, considering you. “Good to see you’re awake. I couldn’t have you dying on me, could I?”

You elect to ignore that last sentence. “Who are you? Why am I here?”

The boy holds up his hands. “A little slower with the questions, if you will. Technically, if there’s any interrogation going on, it should be me asking you. As a kindness, though, I will tell you my name. I’m Peter Pan.”

He pauses as if you’re supposed to have heard of him, and seems rather disappointed when you give no indication of having heard the name before.

You narrow your eyes. “Well, Peter Pan, why am I in a cage?”

Peter shrugs. “It seemed the easiest way to keep you here. I need something from your parents. Do you know how useful true love is in magic? They survived the attacks of a powerful sorcerer to be together. I could use that. So, I’m going to hold you here until they show up and give me what I want.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How are they supposed to give you true love? Isn’t that more of a concept than a thing?”

Peter just smirks. “I’ll let them decide that. For now, though, I’m content to wait for them to show up. However long that takes.”

It hits you now that this situation has turned from bad to worse. At least when you were running from Storybrooke you could do something. Now, though, you’re stuck. A tendril of anger sparks within you. How dare this boy show up, think he can boss you around like you’re nothing? You’re not nothing. Far from it.

For a moment, you think you’re imagining the smell of gunpowder smoke around you. Then, when the cage cracks and breaks in a sound like a thunderclap, you realize that it’s not in your head at all. You land gracefully on the ground, straightening up and brushing yourself off as if nothing had happened. Slowly, you glance up and meet Peter’s gaze, and it is then that you realize the cage breaking wasn’t just some freak accident.

He looks like he’s seen a ghost. “You did that. You have magic.”

You laugh. “That’s absurd. I have never used magic in my life. Are we sure it’s not just because your cage was rather flimsy and fell apart? This could merely be a matter of shoddy construction.”

Peter furrows his brow, suspicious. “Shoddy construction.”

You nod. “Exactly. I mean, what makes more sense, me suddenly having magic or the wooden twigs of your cage breaking?”

Peter pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s not how this works. It all makes sense now. In killing von Rothbart, your parents were host to a considerable amount of magic, which is now in you.”

You shake your head slowly. “That’s not true. I would know if I had magic.”

Peter takes a slow step closer to you. “Are you sure about that? Things like that only manifest themselves in times of stress, like now.”

It doesn’t make sense. There’s no way you have magic. Yet at the same time as you deny this, something pricks in your heart, as if there’s a voice whispering there. That could work, couldn’t it?

Peter holds out a hand, as if he can tell what you’re thinking. “See? You know it’s true.”

“I don’t know anything.” You spit the words out at him like they’re a foul curse, but he just laughs.

“Say what you will, we both know the truth. Now come on, are you going to make this difficult or no?”

He advances towards you, but you’ve had enough of his cages, both verbal and physical. You turn and run, sprinting through the trees like nothing could hold you back. For some reason, Peter doesn’t appear in front of you like he had before. It’s almost as if he feels he doesn’t have to, like there will be something here to stop you.

That doesn’t matter, though. You can’t afford to spend any more time playing into his traps. You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to run harder. At last, you dodge around a particularly sturdy oak, then come to a juddering stop. You’d thought you would be able to run away, make it to a town or something. You could hide until Peter gave up, then find a way out.

Looking out at the glimmering ocean before you, though, you can feel your every hope of escape start to leave you. The sun dances atop dazzling blue waves as far as the eye can see, meaning you’re on an island in the middle of nowhere. There is no hope coming for you, no chance of getting out. All of this is Peter’s land. No matter how far you run, you won’t go anywhere except back to him.

Peter appears beside you, as if sensing from your crestfallen expression that you’ve come to this conclusion. “You see now, don’t you? There is no leaving Neverland.” Usually, you’d want to hit him with some sort of clever retort, but you don’t have the space in your head to call it to your tongue. All you can do is stand here, staring at the ocean, thinking about how you will never leave this place.

Peter is good to his word, too. You try many times to escape his watchful eye and explore the island, desperate for some sign that there’s someone else out there. Maybe there’s a small fishing community on the banks that’s willing to hide you, or hunters in the woods that could shield you with their numbers. It never lasts long, though. He always finds you, and you always have to return to the camp.

After a while, he gives up on trying to bind your hands and wrists together, allowing you to wander around in the near vicinity of the Lost Boys’ camp. Peter frames it like a kindness, but you both know what it really is- a gesture of nothing. Even if you ran, what good would it do? You can’t go anywhere but circle his island. All Peter has to do is track you down, and then you’re right back where you started.

From there, you have a few options in which to occupy your time. The Lost Boys train every day, sparring with fists and staffs and the bow and arrow. You join in with them from time to time, always appreciating the experience to beat them senseless. Every time your fists hit one of the Lost Boys, you picture Peter’s face in their stead. It leaves you with a grim satisfaction to picture getting back at him in such a violent way.

Your other option is one you prefer to keep hidden. Ever since Peter revealed that you have the ability to use magic, it’s as if you’ve unlocked a door that you didn’t even know existed. At first, you have no idea what to do, how to call it back to you. After the weeks start to blend into months and you grow more frantic for a way to get off of the island, though, it becomes easier to use your magic, as if it can sense your desperation.

Peter knows that you’re trying to tap into your magic, of that you’re certain. He seems knowledgeable of everything on his island, from the tap of your feet upon the ground to the lap of the waves on the shore. You’ve caught him staring at you from across the Lost Boys’ campfire multiple times, like he’s trying to look past your skull and read your mind in pages from a book. He’s after magic of some sort, you know that, and you have no doubt that he’d use you to protect his island if he thought he could.

However, you’re not sure what good your magic could do. Although you seem able to do small spells and such, your best strengths lie in illusions. This makes the most sense- Peter had his theory about you getting your magic from the death of von Rothbart, and the evil sorcerer's biggest spell when it came to your family was changing your mother to look like a swan.

Soon, you grow rather skilled at casting up illusions. At first, you start small, changing the petals of a flower from red to yellow and so on. Then you change your face until you look nothing like yourself, or weave enough of a spell around you that you appear to be back in Storybrooke, not stuck on this terrible island. It delights you, this gift. How strange that you didn’t even know it existed a few months back.

Peter is getting more suspicious, you can tell. He must sense that there is some source of magic on the island that isn’t his. You’re careful to only practice magic when you’re sure he’s busy with something else, but you must not have checked thoroughly today. You’re halfway through changing the tree in front of you to look more like a marble column from an ancient temple when you sense that you are not alone.

You hastily send the illusion away, but you know that you were too late even before you turn around and see Peter standing before you, arms folded across his chest.

To his credit, he doesn’t even seem surprised. All he does is tilt his head to the side curiously, as if studying a rather perplexing puzzle. “Not bad. It almost looked real.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you want? You can’t use my magic, not in the way you want.”

Peter spreads his hands. “Are you so suspicious of everything that I do?”

You give him a look. “You complimented me. That’s nothing short of treason for you.”

Peter has the nerve to grin. “It was a one time mistake, I promise. I won’t do it again. Although,” he pauses to walk slowly towards you, “I wasn’t lying. For someone who just learned about her gift a few months ago, you’ve progressed rather quickly.”

You eye him resentfully. “I had a pretty good motive to learn something, especially if it would help me leave.”

Peter has the grace to look chagrined. Although you’ve found yourself talking more and more with him over the last month or so, nothing changes the fact that you’re only here because he kidnapped you. “Perhaps it was a rather jarring change.”

You find yourself wanting to laugh. “Are you kidding me? You abducted me to your island in the middle of nowhere, all because you hoped for a chance to steal some magic from my parents.”

Something almost like a smile twitches at Peter’s lips. “We all take drastic moves when we feel it’s necessary. Besides, I wouldn’t say that your time on the island has been all bad.”

You shrug. “A few things haven’t been terrible. You’re not one of them, by the way.”

This time, you’re sure of it- Peter does actually smile. It’s so unlike his usual scheming smirk that you’re almost shocked by it. Is it truly Peter Pan standing before you now, or some boy who hasn’t let his face show in centuries? “I’ll take that comment to my grave.”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk past him. “I hope it’s rather soon.”

You go to push him on the shoulder as you go, but Peter catches your hand, spinning you around with as much ease as if he’s been practicing all his life. “Hey, rude. I’m hurt.”

You swat him with your free hand, but the second the blow connects, he takes your other hand, twirling you in his arms until your back is against his chest. Peter’s breath is hot on your neck, and you can feel him on every inch of you.

You stammer slightly, doing your best to pretend you’re unaffected by this. “I don’t care.”

You can hear Peter’s grin in his voice as he lowers his arm to wrap around your hips in the guise of stopping you from moving. “No?”

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest like a bird’s wings, and you can only hope that he cannot hear it. “Not at all.”

Before he can do anything more, and before you do something you regret, you push Peter away from him, holding out an arm as if to keep him away from you. Peter just laughs, the sound tossed away by the breeze. “I almost believe you.”

You’re not sure what that afternoon did, but somehow, it changed everything. You considered Peter barely tolerable, but within a matter of another month, he’s a friend. The two of you bicker like childhood friends, exchanging insults like greeting cards. It’s fascinating, and utterly terrific. You find yourself laughing harder than you have in a long time, and living more brightly and freely than perhaps ever before.

You’re sitting near the fire of the Lost Boys’ camp one day when it happens. It’s the middle of the afternoon, with the other boys either out chasing each other through the trees or trying to improve their archery. You’re fully expecting to go at least another half an hour without seeing anyone, so you’re a little taken aback when the air in front of you starts to shimmer.

At first, you’re just confused. You rise to your feet slowly, one hand rising to the knife on your belt. It was a gift from Peter, one he’d tried to play off as necessary in case he tried to stab you out of irritation but one that’s become your favorite weapon ever since. After a few moments, you realize what the shimmer is- the beginnings of a magic bean’s portal. You can see indistinct figures as the gateway between realms begins to solidify, and feel as if the ground has been pulled out from beneath your feet.

Even without the portal being fully opened, you know who’s waiting on the other side. You know their silhouettes from growing up, having been ingrained in most of your memories. Odette and Siegfried, your parents. They’ve found you at last. However, they’re not alone, and as the portal takes shape, you realize you know the other woman as Regina Mills, the Evil Queen.

A realization hits you like a thunderclap. Here is how it will go: the portal opens, your parents step through and find you, it’s a joyful reunion. Regina, however, convinces your parents to look for vengeance. She feels the magic on the island and wants it for herself. Through some way or another, the island falls, all because of you.

You make your decision before you’re fully aware of it. You spread your hands, calling up your largest illusion yet. The magic ripples around you, drowning out the rest of the Lost Boys’ camp and your own body. When your parents and Regina step through the portal, all they see is a rusting pile of machinery, an abandoned alleyway in a shady street. Nothing special.

Your mother folds her arms across her chest. “What is this, Regina? Where is my daughter?”

Regina just shrugs. “Looks like your information was wrong. She should be right in front of us.”

Both of your parents train their gazes forward, and you have the odd sensation that they’re looking directly through you. At last, they glance around some more, but find nothing. The portal begins to close, so they head back. You wait a few moments after the portal disappears, then relinquish your spell, sighing with the effort and what you’ve just lost. Was it worth it, to give up your shot at being rescued? A quiet voice answers in the back of your head: yes.

Someone speaks behind you. “Why would you do that?”

When you turn around, Peter stands, looking stunned. You glance away, somehow unable to meet his gaze. “They would have taken over the island. Too many of the Lost Boys are happy here, I don’t want to destroy their home.”

Peter shakes his head slowly. “That isn’t the only reason why. You could have done that spell and gone with them. Why did you stay?”

You try to come up with an explanation and come up blank. “I don’t know.”

It’s the honest truth, but Peter seems unconvinced. “You do.”

You look at him incredulously. “What, you think you know better than me? I don’t know, Peter. Accept that.”

He shakes his head again, but this time something almost like a smile tugs at his lips, like he’s figured something out. “I think I know why.”

Before you can ask him what he means, Peter walks towards you, pace quickening with each step. He doesn’t stop, but crashes into you with a kiss that takes your breath away. For a moment, you’re left reeling, and then you return to yourself and kiss him back. Even when he breaks away, you can’t escape the rush of adrenaline, like you’ve jumped off of a cliff and been caught just before you hit the ground.

Peter’s wearing that smile again, the one you’d first seen back when he first saw your illusions. “Looks like I was right.”

You laugh. “Shut up, Peter.”

He does so, but only so he can kiss you again. For once, you let your worries leave you. For once, you decide then and there that you don’t want to leave Neverland, not if you can help it. This is your home, and for once, you’re absolutely fine with it.

ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000

[theoutcastrogue]

One D&D aka D&D 5.5: Expert Classes (Rogue and others)

I lowkey ignored these new developments, but now I’m plunging in. Latest Unearthed Arcana is out (PDF here) and it’s about Rogues, let’s go!

Changes to the Rogue Class

Weapon proficiencies: From simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers and shortswords in 5e, we get simple weapons, and martial weapons with the finesse property. So we lose longswords which were already not useful for sneak attack, and we get scimitar AND WHIP. Whip has reach! And I mean. Kinky. Wait, did we lose hand crossbows? Am I missing something? That’s a weapon FOR rogues, innit? I wonder if they’re saving it for Assassins only.

Sneak attack: Can only use it once per round (not per turn) with an attack action, so not as a reaction. Aw, that’s a straight nerf. To be fair, setting up a sneak attack reaction was a hassle, required you to stay smack dab in the middle of melee (for squishy rogues, this is The Bad Place), and ate your Uncanny Dodge reaction. So maybe it’s okay.

Thieves’ Cant: You get an extra language in addition to Thieves’ Cant, which can be Standard or Rare. That’s cool.

Evasion: Now at lvl 9, 2 levels later than before. Hmm, I think that’s a bit too late for “iconic class ability”, but it’s true Rogues have a lot of those, and you gotta spread them out somehow. Maybe bring back the older gradual version, of Evasion (only works if you succeed on the save) early and Improved Evasion (the full effect) later?

Subtle Strikes: That’s new. I like it. Despite being often described (and played!) as the loners who scout ahead solo, Rogues have always performed better with allies to distract their enemies. Ganging up on targets is a time-honoured tradition. Replaces Blindsight.

Slippery Mind: Now applies to Charisma too, not just Wisdom. Also cool.

Level 20 Capstone, Epic Boon of Undectability (or another epic boon feat): Well. It’s debatable if that’s sufficiently awesome for level 20, but I really dig the idea of a Rogue who hides and just... can’t be detected. Fuck your magic. And I think it should explicitly ignore blindsight and tremorsense and such, otherwise meh, by that point your Stealth (assuming Expertise and 20 DEX) is 27 minimum.

Changes to the Thief subclass

First of all, all subclasses now get abilities at the same levels: 3rd, 6th, 10th, 14th. For us that’s earlier, neater, and a definite improvement. These came too late in 5e, and sometimes it felt like your subclass didn’t even matter, other than the big boost at 3rd.

Fast Hands: Nerfed, can’t Use an Object as a bonus action any more. That’s bad, I think thieves should have fast hands for any and all purposes. Combat can become way more creative, and situations like “we’re on a vehicle that’s out of control, or a dungeon room filled with levers” way more interesting. That’s when you need a rogue with fast hands. Boo. Now you can only use this ability to pick locks, pick pockets, disarm traps, or Search. But something’s wrong with the Search action.

My first reaction was WISDOM? oh no! But wait a minute. That’s not investigation, that’s not looking for traps or rifling for clues or deciphering codes (these are apparently another type of action, INT-based, called Study). Then why on earth would a Thief get Search and not Study as a bonus action? That makes little sense, and also goes against the Thief archetype stereotype: hot mess, incorrigible fuckup, gets easily distracted, most of all by shinies, inadvisably dumped wisdom. (Am I projecting? OF COURSE I’m projecting.)

Second-Story Work: You get an actual Climb speed equal to your speed (okay), and can Jump with a dexterity instead of a strength check. Trouble is, Jump is an Action, and Cunning Action doesn’t apply. Boo. Still underwhelming ability, doesn’t do what it says on the tin. And mate, look, it’s real simple. Thieves will never be top damage dealers or damage takers, and they got no spells. To compensate, you have to make them incredibly cool, and fast and mobile.

Supreme Sneak: the advantage to Stealth checks applies if you wear Light armor or none. Previously you had to move up to half your speed, so that’s a big improvement. If you play tactical combat on a grid and not vague theatre of the mind, mobility is HUGE for rogues.

Use Magic Device: That’s changed quite a lot (previously it was just ignore attunement requirements). The scrolls thing seems interesting, but without spending a whole feat to gain proficiency in Arcana, it’s just an Intelligence check, i.e. exactly what happens when anyone tries to use a scroll not on their spell list. If no other rules change, it’s bad: it only lets you use 1st lvl spells or cantrips at level 10. The other two abilities depend entirely on how many and what kind of magic items your DM gives you. Having 4 good attuned items is amazing.

Thief’s Reflexes: It’s now 14th lvl instead of 18th, and instead of an extra turn on the first round of combat, you get a second Bonus Action (from Cunning Action only) [Proficiency] times per Long Rest. You know, unless you get into a ton of combats per day, this is arguably better.

Changes to other relevant rules

Duel Wielder / Light weapons: Good news for two-weapon fighters: off-hand attacks don’t take a bonus action any more, you just need 2 Light weapons OR one Light, one non-Two-Handed, and the feat Dual Wielder. Also, since normally “you can equip or unequip one Weapon before or after any attack you make as part of [the Attack] Action”, you can effectively fight with two weapons and still have a hand free before and after to manipulate things, AND your bonus action free for Cunning Action. Very good for Rogues.

Skulker: Useful.

Blindsight: Um. Does “effectively see” mean you can target them with a spell, or attack without disadvantage etc? Or does it just mean you know where they are? That could use a clarification. 5e didn’t have any either.

Hide: For the most part, this is unusually clear and well-defined (5e hiding was neither). The minimum DC 15 even if your enemies crit-fail is an unnecessary nerf, I think, but that’s okay. BUT. I swear no one’s ever managed to figure out the CLASSIC Rogue move “emerge from hiding place and sneak attack opponent” – i.e. attack with the benefits of being hidden; you should only hit once before they register you’re there, but that hit will hurt. Reading this, it looks like if I’m hidden like 5 ft away from my target and emerge from Cover, I’m in melee range but my Hidden condition ended BEFORE I get the chance to make my attack roll. Because now I’m not behind any Cover! So I can only pull it off with ranged weapons OR if I’m hidden and exactly adjacent to the target. I am not pleased.

Y’all. Decide if you want to give this to sneak attackers only or to anyone who hides successfully, give a reasonable distance limit (if I have to run 30 ft from cover to melee range, I’ll probably get made and will surprise exactly no one), say 10 ft, and LET ME DO THIS. Lemme dash out of the darkness or from behind a piece of furniture and stab people in the kidney, that’s the class.

Tools: This is really cool, I’m a skillmonkey, I dig tools, love it.

Unarmed Strike: I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING WotC TO LET ME KNOCK PEOPLE DOWN USING DEXTERITY. Good god people, haven’t you EVER tripped anyone irl? If you aim at the right spot at the right time, you don’t need any strength at all, you use their own weight and momentum to make them lose balance. Also, can I at least AIM a fist or a kick using dexterity? Never mind damage, just to hit? Is that so unfathomable? And can Unarmed Strike please be considered a finesse weapon, to support brawling Rogues? “Brawler fighting dirty” is a Type of Guy D&D needs. (Also needs ninjas, obviously, but we’ll see what they’ll do with the Monk and/or other Rogue subclasses about that.)

P.S. Also, may I express my profound relief that they rolled back that HUGE nerf in critical hits. They had made it “add an extra weapon damage die” instead of double all damage dice, to the woe and chagrin of martials everywhere and especially rogues and paladins. I mean come on, the sheer JOY of critting on a sneak attack should not be taken away! And it wasn’t, they rolled it back, phew.

See also:

reddit thread

GitP thread

WotC video for this Unearthed Arcana

WotC video for the Rogue changes

[infini-tree]

(not sure I'd this would count but) Potential AU; Melvin from your Labcomix AU switching places(worlds?) with regular Melvin? Or George and LC! George swapping?

send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story

HMMM ok ok ok. i’ll separate this by both scenarios but this is going to surpass the 5 headcanon suggestion of this meme, but i figure it’ll even out since its technically two prompts you can tell i have more ideas about a mainverse character in LC than the other way around

melvin swap (mainverse in LC)

mainverse!melvin immediately distresses LC!harold because he looks like his friend but is mean to him? why is he mean to him? he wants his melvin back!

LC!george isn’t exactly thrilled either because its a little creepy in an uncanny valley way to see how melvin acts kinda like him. i imagine the both of them just acting like the other is the version of the person they’re familiar with, which leads to a lot of friction and digs at their intelligence/maturity

MV!melvin is very salty about LC!george moving up a grade when he’s never been offered a thing

melvin swap (LC in mainverse)

LC!melvin is a little distressed by the fact that MV!george and harold are friends. after the shock wears off, i imagine their interactions to be similar to the homework hydra episode with the boys and cool melvin. except with more mythbusters-esque inventions and explosions

there’s still the whole friction re: LC!melvin not having the version of harold who’s his close friend and confidante. for some reason, i get the vibes that MV!harold is much more outgoing than what he’s used to. not by much, but enough to trip him up

george swap (mainverse in LC)

he is probably having the worst “introduction scene” out of these scenarios, sorry buddy. between LC!melvin’s antagonism and LC!harold-- who just is nearly the same as his harold is (except maybe a touch more timid), he has the rockiest warming-up period

the only one out of all these scenarios to find out/realize that the reason why things are so different between the universes is because he moved up a grade in this universe. he’s... not sure what to think of that, but jokes that he “dodged a bullet”

he’s the most likely to leave a message to his LC counterpart, though not without a small prank at his expense (think on the scale of a snake-in-a-can)

george swap (LC in mainverse)

MV!melvin thinks its one of their jokes, but once that’s passed, he considers LC!george to be an? academic rival?? LC!george would absolutely bring up how he’s moved up a grade. it drives him mad and also demanding to krupp why he didn’t get that

the thing about LC!george is that he values maturity a little more than intelligence (though, both are up there). he acts what he thinks a mature person sounds like in part as a defense mechanism to try and ingratiate himself to the older grade he’s in, but this leads him to be very pretentious about things that would even drive MV!melvin up the wall

[panicattheattic]

Spooktober Headcanons

Belphegor: Vampire ...

(From Twilight)

(Sorrynotsorry)

You hadn't expected this when you moved to Washington.

You expected to be the awkward new student that nobody ever talked to.

But you were immediately befriended by the most popular guy in school; Diavolo.

Though you could tell the 7 brothers who were his friends didn't quite like you.

Not only that, but their entire friend group was kinda off.

There was something strange about them that you just couldn't place.

At least they were always cordial with you.

Well, except for Belphegor.

He glared at you constantly and whenever he was nice you knew it wasn't genuine.

He was a master manipulator.

Despite seemingly hating you, he would always cajole his way into being your partner in group projects.

He played the nice, sweet, gifted kid who just wanted to help, so well that it was like someone was paying him to do it.

He would have tricked you too if it wasn't for how he acted when you were alone.

Like just now, as you sat on a log in the woods working on your ecology project.

More like watching while Belphie did the whole thing.

Not that you pawned it off on him.

Oh no.

He wouldn't let you help.

He said he'd do a better job anyways and that you shouldn't bother.

You didn't understand why he wanted to be paired with you if he never wanted to share the workload.

Not only that, but clearly he didn't want your company given his refusal to interact with you beyond what was strictly necessary and the occasional disgusted glare.

"Belphegor. Come on, this would go faster if you just let me help."

"No."

"But I can--"

His eyes shined, gold gleaming as he froze you in place with only his stare.

"It will go faster if we get it right the first time. That'll only happen if you let me do everything."

This was it. You were tired of his indirect insults.

You were tired of being forced into working with him because of his uncanny ability to convince everyone that he was the sweetest guy they'll ever meet.

You were tired of him.

You stood up and started to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Away!"

You didn't want to be near him any longer.

You unfortunately lost your footing momentarily.

Thankfully there was a tree nearby.

Less than thankfully, you cut your palm on the bark when you tried to use the tree to regain your balance.

You cursed under your breath and tried to keep walking.

Until you hear an aggravated groan from behind you.

But before you could even turn to see what the matter was (not that you were going to), you found yourself harshly pinned to the ground.

Belphie's grip on your wrists was nearly painful.

You'd never seen more hateful eyes in your life.

"You have no idea, what you've done... What you do."

You let him continue, honestly curious and a bit afraid to interrupt him.

"Always so careless. Do you have any idea what you're mixed up in? If I wanted to I could wrap my arms around you... Crush you in an instant. Yet you don't realize."

He went on for a while, berating you about being clueless, not noticing the obvious, etc...

You tuned out most of his spiel until you heard one word:

"Blood"

All the dots connected.

"Don't you ever wear perfume?"

"Did you honestly scrape you knee on dirt?"

It kinda all made sense now.

In a messed up kind of way.

"You, all of you... You're vampires."

The mocking, nearly maniacal laugher was all the answer you needed.

"Don't blame us for not warning you, blame yourself for not noticing it sooner."

Belphie explained how he wanted nothing more than to drink your blood.

He confessed to already having come up with a dozen plans on how to kill you.

But he also said he wouldn't.

And you believed him.

He wasn't trying to manipulate you, you could tell.

And you would be lying if you said you never had a hint of a crush on him.

So you did what any sane person would do.

You pushed him the hell off of you and ran the frick away!

You avoided him for weeks after that.

You even skipped a few classes you had with him.

You only approached him again after his twin brother convinced you to give him a chance.

You couldn't say no to Beel, given that he was actually the sweetest guy you knew.

You went (With Beel nearby, you weren't risking it) to see Belphie after school.

He surprised you.

"I'm sorry."

And he meant it.

So you gave him another chance.

And you were glad you did.

He was actually not that bad of a dude.

You hesitantly became friends with him and finally felt comfortable enough to call him by his nickname.

The first time you did he paused.

He would have blushed if he had blood.

Everything was well until the next bump in the road.

You awoke in the middle of the night with a weird feeling.

And there he was.

The cheeky bastard.

Standing in the darkness, watching you.

Watching you sleep.

You were understandably creeped out.

You threw a pillow at him, which he at least had the decency to not dodge, and whisper-yelled at him.

"What the hell, Belphegor?"

He visibly cringed at the sound of his full name.

But you know what his reaction was to all this?

He pouted.

He pouted like a child.

He explained how he liked watching you sleep.

Because he used to love to sleep, but since becoming a vampire he couldn't anymore.

Watching you sleep made him feel at ease.

You honestly felt bad for him.

Though you wanted to slap him.

Had he been doing this for months?!

You'd discuss that later.

For now, he was lucky you were sleepy and couldn't focus much.

You waved him over.

As his eyes widened, you rolled yours.

"It's weirder if you just stand there."

As he hesitantly got under the sheets next to you, you almost laughed.

You'd never seen him be awkward before.

When he was settled you snuggled into his chest and shivered.

He was ice cold.

"I'm sorry."

But you shook your head.

"It feels nice."

After a beat of silence you finally felt him relax and gently wrap his arms around you.

You weren't sure where your relationship with Belphie was going, but if it was going to be romantic, he had a lot of things to figure out first.

~Aqua

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 8

@pocketramblr This one is a bit shorter, but it came fast. :3

.

As much of a disaster as this was, it would have been about a thousand times worse without Tensei there. The Nomu guy had All Might pinned down, and as terrifying as that was, it was only made worse by how little he reacted to Shouta erasing his quirk whenever he caught sight of him.

No wonder Midoriya had been a wreck this morning. If nothing else, this confirmed his quirk was some kind of precognitive danger detection, and Shouta fully intended to get it registered as such the minute they got out of this mess so that the next time Midoriya showed up shaking in his red shoes, they could hit the problem with an army.

The hand-covered villain started reciting numbers. What was he doing? Counting something? Time?

Shouta blinked. The villain said a new number.

Oh, hell. The bastard was measuring the length of time he could keep his quirk active.

Distantly, because he was currently fighting about a dozen villains and really needed to keep his attention on not dying, Shouta registered an approaching young scream. Then something thunked into the fountain, and a line - a carbon fiber cable? - appeared between Shouta and the hand villain, giving them both pause. The pause lasted just long enough for two pairs of red shoes to plow into the side of the hand villain's head.

The momentum of impact took both Midoriya and the hand villain into the fountain. Then the fountain disintegrated. Shouta turned his quirk back on, and Midoriya log rolled away from the remains of the fountain.

"Get out of here!" ordered Shouta.

"Yes, sir!" said Midoriya, scrambling to his feet and managing to dodge several villains' attacks in a way that looked both natural and uncanny.

Shouta refocused on the hand villain, who could evidently disintegrate things by touching them. What a joy. A completely terrible match up for close range fighters like himself and Tensei. Or All Might, for that matter.

As Shouta strategized, part of his brain filed the question of how Midoriya had gotten there under 'for later.'

It would be best to restrain him while he was still disoriented-

Then the portal villain was there, between him and the disintegration villain.

Shouta found himself falling.

.

Izuku did not reach Ingenium in time to stop him from being pinned by the tree. Not that he'd known Nomu would throw a tree that way, but he'd been more than aware that something bad was going to happen.

From what Izuku had seen so far, All Might had been trying to keep his fight with Nomu away from others while still occasionally throwing an assist. But Nomu was strong. If Izuku didn't know better, he'd say the villain had multiple quirks-

-except maybe he didn't know better. Here was Izuku with two quirks, after all. Who was to say there couldn't be another quirk like One for All?

That could be bad.

Judging by the way All Might's direct attacks and punches barely moved Nomu but throws seemed to work normally, in addition to a regeneration quirk, Izuku would say he had something else that absorbed impact. And then possibly a strength quirk...?

All Might and Nomu rolled out of the trees. All Might was ever-so-slightly bloodied. Nomu looked unscathed.

It would be a gamble, All Might probably had already realized it, but...

Knowledge was power.

Izuku cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "All Might! I think he has more than one quirk!"

Black bled into the air.

"You certainly are a golden egg, aren't you?"

The mist villain and the hand villain were there. The hand villain, who bore a strong resemblance to a drowned rat, cackled.

"You've been trying to seal his movements, haven't you?" he said, voice scratchy. "But it's no good, he's just as powerful as you. Nomu- our specially made multi-quirked anti-All Might weapon. Kurogiri."

"Yes, Shigaraki Tomura."

More portals started to form, and Izuku started to get a better, horrible idea of what the villains' goal here was.

He needed Ingenium, and Kaminari.

He edged away, then turned to run. He couldn't directly help All Might right now, but if All Might could just hold out a little longer-

He grabbed Kaminari and Tsuyu's hands. "Help me get Ingenium free! I have a plan!"

"You have a plan, Midoriya?" asked Ingenium.

"Y-yeah," said Midoriya. "Just, we have to get this off of you for it to work-"

"Explain to me as you go."

"Well-"

.

"Multiple quirks," said En quietly.

"No! Toshinori killed him!"

"Never thought he was human enough to die-" started Banjo.

"Please tell me you aren't quoting pre-quirk literature at us right now," said En.

"Yoichi?" asked Hikage.

The ghosts shifted their attention to their first member.

"You don't seem very surprised," observed Nana.

"I guess it's like Banjo said," said Yoichi with a pained smile. "I just... never really felt like it was over... Even if I didn't think he'd attack Izuku of all people..."

"Well, he isn't. Clearly he's sent his goons after Toshinori. But why wouldn't you think he'd go after Ninth as soon as he realized Toshi passed on One for All?" asked Nana, putting her hands on her hips.

"Probably because it doesn't look like he has One for All?" suggested En.

"Oh," said Nana. "Yeah. Good point."

.

Izuku didn't miss the pain that flickered across Ingenium's face as he stood, or the way he was clearly favoring one side of his body, but they didn't have a lot of options right now. This was the best they could do. All Might was still avoiding the portals, and Nomu reaching through them, but he'd had to abandon his cape.

Worse, he was still obviously worried about the four of them, and had left himself open to injury to knock small-fry villains away from them multiple times as they levered the tree off Ingenium.

They didn't have time. They didn't have options.

(This would be a great time for reinforcements from the school to arrive.)

(They didn't.)

Izuku handed the spooled out end of the grappling hook to Ingenium, and the gun end to Kaminari. Tsuyu wrapped her tongue around Izuku and they jumped away, out of range.

Then Ingenium took off, compensating for less thrust output on his injured side. He was wobbly, and the hand villain easily dodged him, but the mist villain, with his focus on the portals, didn't. Ingenium slammed the points of the grappling hook into the man's metal collar, and ran.

Lightning struck, racing down the conductive cable from Kaminari to the mist villain. The man convulsed, the portals snapping shut.

One of them snapped shut on Nomu.

The villain's arm flopped onto the ground, and Izuku swallowed hard. That could have been All Might, if they hadn't timed that right.

Nomu roared, but its muscles bulged, and its arm, rapidly, disgustingly, grew back.

They'd gotten rid of the portal threat, but what now? Nomu and the hand villain were still very much threats, and if the hand villain got even one hand on All Might, it was game over.

.

Third cursed, surprising everyone.

"Ooh, are you finally acknowledging Izuku's superior skill in strategy and quirk analysis?" asked Yoichi, striking a pose.

"No," said Third, stepping away from the wall. "You can keep him to yourself. I just don't want Eighth to die." He walked over to the fiery form that was Yagi Toshinori's placeholder in the mindscape. "He's still connected."

"Well, yeah," said Yoichi. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving him Fa Jin."

"What! He can do that?" demanded Banjo. "What about Blackwhip?"

"How the hell would Toshinori explain Blackwhip? Give it a rest already."

Third put his hands on Eighth's shoulders.

.

"Midoriya!"

"Monoma?" Izuku staggered as Monoma dropped both hands on his shoulders. "What?"

"The portal villain!" said Monoma, eyes wide. "He has multiple quirks!"

"It's true," said Kirishima, running up behind him. "After we were zapped to the ruins zone, Monoma was able to do all sorts of stuff."

"So, he's like Nomu?"

"That thing has multiple quirks, too?"

Normally, cling someone with a quirk that affected their appearance a thing was frowned upon, but in this case they were all going to let it slide.

"Yeah," said Izuku. A terrible idea began to rise up in his mind. But then he was distracted by Kaminari starting to wander towards the fight. "I think it has three," he said in a rush. "Regen, strength, and shock absorption if you can think of anything-" he cut off. "We need to get Kaminari."

"I've got him," said Kirishima quickly, "I can take a hit."

Izuku nodded.

"Midoriya, Ingenium!" said Tsuyu with a gasp.

Ingenium had collapsed, clutching one of his legs. Tears pricked at Izuku's eyes. There was too much going on!

A wave of ice crusted over Nomu.

Todoroki!

All Might took advantage of his opponent's temporary incapacitation and leaped back to where Izuku and the others were, grabbing Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ingenium on the way. "You kids need to get out of here!"

"But the shock absorbtion-!"

"Geez, plain kid, what are you, some kind of exposition dump?" asked the hand villain, scratching his neck. "A secret gimmick boss?" He laughed. "Yeah, Nomu has shock absorption. Like I said-" Nomu ripped itself free of the ice, "-he's a specially made living sandbag, a damage sponge just for-"

The hand villain cut off as a floating tree branch hit him over the back of the head, knocking free one of his costume hands. He staggered but didn't fall, swiping behind him with one hand. One of his own hands, that was. Hagakure yelped.

Not really thinking, Izuku picked up a rock and threw it at the hand villain, who caught and disintegrated it. "That's it, you hero brats!" He was blown back by a gust of wind.

"Go!" urged All Might. "Shock absorption quirks always have limits! So do regeneration quirks!"

So did All Might.

"If I could touch him," started Monoma. "If I could touch you-"

"Go," repeated All Might, more urgently.

"You heard him," said Tsuyu.

"Running away?" taunted the hand villain. Then, more quietly but still audible, "Wake up, Kurogiri."

All Might smiled grimly. "Not at all," he said. Then he charged the Nomu.

.

The silver lining to being shipped express to the location of one of the most traumatic events in his life was that Shouta had cell service. He could call UA.

Literally everything else sucked.

"Nezu," he croaked into the receiver. "Attack-"

"On the USJ, yes. I gathered reinforcements when the computer system stopped returning my pings and I couldn't contact you or Thirteen. What is your- oh, dear, how did you get all the way out there?"

"One of the villains has a warp quirk," said Shouta, he shifted and hissed. "Dropped me from over a story up." Probably more like two. Or even three. "Kinda want to know why he dropped me here."

"I'm sending a ambulance your way," said Nezu brusquely.

"There's also a guy who can turn stuff to dust with a touch - got me a couple times, but only got my skin - and really... muscly guy. Fighting All Might. Lots of cannon fodder. My kids-"

"You've done everything you can. Focus on not dying. You were always one if my favorite students. I'd hate to lose you."

"I'm a teacher."

"And? Ah! That's Iida Tenya on the road!"

"'S he okay?"

"Somewhat winded, but unharmed! Anything else we should know?"

"One of the villains was going toe-to-toe with All Might," said Shouta, blinking black spots out of his eyes. "The leader had a five-point disintegration quirk- Got me a couple times, just lost some skin though." He inhaled deeply, and groaned at the distinct sensation of a cracked rib. "Kids were scattered. Don't know where they all were. Saw Midoriya." He took another gasp of air. "I think Thirteen was injured."

He could hear sirens.

"I think," he said, weakly, "that's... no, there were a lot of canon fodder guys... Did I say that already? I think that's it."

"Thank you, Shouta. I'm going to leave you on speaker. If you can think of anything else, let us know. We need to debrief Iida, now."

"Hn," said Shouta.

.

By the time All Might punched Nomu through the roof of the USJ, the hand villain was shaking the mist villain vigorously, and Izuku and his classmates were halfway to the exit, carrying Ingenium and Kaminari.

Izuku was relieved, despite the danger still hanging in the air. It couldn't have been more than thirty minutes since this all started, but it was probably shorter, and Izuku knew All Might had all his time for today.

With Nomu gone, there was no way All Might would lose. Not even to someone with a destructive five-point quirk. Izuku could write a whole article on his reasoning, with sources cited.

All Might flipped a cube out of his pocket, and it unfolded into a pair of handcuffs designed specifically for restraining people with five-point quirks. It was obvious that the hand villain wasn't going to come quietly.

The mist villain's yellow eyes opened groggily. All Might moved-

-too slow.

The hand villain and the mist villain were gone.

The other villains who had come with them, however, were still very present. Which is why, Izuku would maintain until he died, he passed out when the rest of the teachers stepped through the door of the USJ and he finally felt safe.

.

Shouta watched as the two villain leaders stumbled out of a portal not far from him. He had the presence of mind to silence his phone, but couldn't focus enough to do much else. Hopefully Nezu still recorded all his calls, the paranoid rodent...

"Kurogiri," growled the hand villain. "Where the hell are we, and why are we here?"

The mist villain - Kurogiri? - shook his head slowly. "I am unsure, Shigaraki Tomura. I do not recognize the area." His voice was unsteady and itched at Shouta's brain. "I suspect... I suspect that the electric attack of that student has damaged my quirk control."

"Then get it undamaged, idiot. Goddamn sun... we're out in the open! I can hear sirens."

"I believe that those are ambulance sirens. Police sirens have a different pitch-"

"I don't care! Open a portal back home!"

"I am uncertain if that is-"

"Take us back to the bar. Now."

The villains left again, all without noticing Shouta. Maybe they were just desensitized to corpses lying in dark alleys or something. Not that he was a corpse yet. Even if his eyes were sliding closed.

What an illogical affair.

This was a stupid place to die.

.

"Alright," said En, in a tone that indicated he wanted attention. "Now that Ninth is no longer in danger of immediate death, I think we have some things to talk about. Firstly, Yoichi, I have a question for you."

Yoichi looked resigned. "Ask away, then."

"Before I ask it, I just want to preface that I've always had the utmost respect for you, and obviously there's nothing you can do to act on it from in here, but I can't help but notice that you seem... unusually attached to Ninth."

Yoichi gestured for En to contine.

"So, I have to ask... Yoichi, are you a pedophile?"

"No, I'm not rel- a pedophile?"

"Like I said, you seem unusu-"

"I'm his uncle!"

"What," said Nana.

"What," said Banjo, not quite at the same time.

"Wha- Not that I'm not pleased I won't have to figure out a way to double murder you, but what?" demanded En.

"I can't believe you thought I was a pedophile! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with him?" said Banjo, phantom representations of Blackwhip peeling off his body. "What's wrong with you? How are you Ninth's uncle?"

"In the usual way!" shouted Yoichi, who seemed to have gotten stuck on high volume. "I'm actually kind of shocked none of you noticed right away!"

"How could we possibly have noticed?" demanded Banjo.

"I noticed," said Hikage.

"I- Wait, what, really?" Yoichi turned to Hikage.

"Yes," said Hikage, gravely. "All for One was in the family photo on the wall in Ninth's house. The one in the living room. I thought we were just avoiding the subject to be polite."

"Hikage," said Nana, "I cannot begin to tell you how much that wasn't what was going on. Is that why you two were sulking?" she asked Third.

"We aren't sulking. We're protesting the ridiculous decision to give One for All to the son of All for One. And I'm going right back to it."

"Bah!" said Yoichi, waving him off. "Go sulk in your corner! You're just jealous that Izuku is the coolest One for All holder!"

En's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. "Those two were sulking way before we were in Ninth, let alone his house. When did they find out?"

"Like, the day after Eighth met him. I told them because I wanted advice, but I got sulking instead. See if I tell them any more secrets, ever."

"That was a year ago," said Nana. "Are you- How in the world did you know, anyway?"

"He looks just like Hisashi did at that age," said Yoichi. "Also, he always said that if he had kids, he'd name them Tomura and Izuku, so..."

"Ninth looks like his mother, though," said Nana.

"Yeah, and All for One is a grade-A narcissist," said Yoichi.

"You're saying he picked, ugh, what was her name- Inko. He picked Inko because she looked like him?" asked Nana.

"Yeah, essentially."

"Wait, wait, back up," said Banjo. "Tomura? Did you say Tomura?"

"Yeah?"

"That's what the mist guy called the hand guy that one time. Actually- Didn't All for One go by Shigaraki for a while there, too?"

The only audible sound was a heartrate monitor's muffled beep. Presumably from Ninth being hooked up to one.

"That's messed up," said Yoichi, finally. There wasn't much else to say.

[nocapesdahling]

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 2

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: In which we hear a little from Helmut Zemo, the city is flying, and you find a baby. Not necessarily in that order.

Rating: Mature (17+)

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Here there be angst; Accidental Child acquisition; Mentioned child neglect by others

A/N: I made myself sad while writing this chapter, knowing that certain things mentioned will never happen. Here begins the forewarned angst. Maybe once I finish this story, I’ll write a fluffy AU.

Chapter 2: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 2.1k

Colonel Helmut Zemo repositioned his earpiece. He was not a man prone to fidgeting and never had been, especially on the job, but he had counted his squad after they had gotten clear of the city and they were one short.

You were missing.

His family was safe, his squad was safe, but you were not. While he kept his expression neutral, inside was a different story. You had to be here somewhere. You just had to be. He would not accept any other outcome. Once they arrived at their base outside the city, he searched room after room and asked person after person and could not find you. You were not in the Mission Control Room or in your workshop fiddling with your gadgets. You did not seem to be anywhere, which meant that he had to consider the idea of you still being in the city.

“Q, come in Q. Where are you? Branko is in need of you. He broke his new infrared glasses and Ana tore her body armor. Don’t ask me how she did it, darling. We thought it was indestructible, but you know Ana. She took that as a challenge.” He let a hint of his desperation show in his voice. “Q, please come in.”

All Zemo heard was static before a voice, your voice, answered and he breathed out in relief. “Hey, Boss.” you started haltingly. You sounded tired and out of breath. “Well, I’m still in the city.” Here, you paused and Helmut’s hand clenched into a fist. “We’re in the air, Helmut... I don’t know if I’m going to make it. You’ll have to give Carl his birthday gift from me. I think he’ll like it.”

His smile was filled with clenched teeth and looked more like a grimace. “Even now, you joke, my Q. Even now.”

__________________

You held back a sob at the pain you could hear in his voice.

You had been meant to rendezvous with the rest of your squad at the checkpoint, but had stopped as you passed an orphanage. You thought you had heard a baby crying, but that couldn’t be right. The orphanage looked to be and should be empty. You strained your ears, knowing you couldn’t leave a baby or a child there to die. There it was again, a baby’s cry. You knew your squad was long gone, but you reassured yourself with the thought that you could easily catch up with them after you saved the baby.

You searched through the rooms on the lower floor before finding one with cribs. No baby was in sight. You paused, hearing fighting and chaos outside. Knowing that you had to move quickly, you hoped for another cry. Just as you were about to dig out your infrared glasses from your pack, there it was again. There was a cry coming from behind some hospital style curtains. You pushed them aside and found what looked like a newborn baby or close to it, abandoned before their life could even start.

You didn’t have much experience with kids, but hoped your time as a babysitter would help somewhat. You had been the babysitter for the family with twins that lived in the apartment complex a few blocks over. They had been cute kids, a boy and a girl, but they weren’t babies. You had been on the job when their apartment was bombed and heard the news afterwards. Even with your connections, you had no luck in finding out what happened to them. You assumed they died alongside their parents and mourned them accordingly. You were never able to bring yourself to watch The Dick Van Dyke Show anymore. It brought back too many memories.

You picked the baby up and cradled her to your chest as she blinked her eyes up at you. Well then, maybe not as newborn as you had supposed. Her eyes had already settled on a color that was close to your own. It was a bit uncanny. You smiled at her, tickling heir stomach as you checked her diaper. You crinkled your nose at the smell. “I see that’s why you’re crying, little one. Let me fix that for you.”

You laid the baby down to change her when her eyes scrunched up and she let out an almighty wail. “Oh my, little one. What strong lungs you have. What about a song? How does that sound, hmm?”

The baby continued to cry and squirm, and you knew this needed to be done quickly as the sounds of fighting had escalated outside and you didn’t want the robots to be alerted to your presence.

You began to sing, “We have been waiting for you. Now you are here. More perfect than I imagined. Our house is now a home. No matter where you go. Sunlight shines on you.” You sang the lullaby again as the baby stopped crying and blinked sleepily.

“There. All done. I’m glad you liked it, though I don’t know if I’m much of a singer. My mother used to sing it to me. You should hear my friend sing. He has such a lovely deep voice and my godson loves it when he sings ‘Baa, Baa, Black Sheep’. I’m sure they’ll both be excited to meet you.”

You smiled down at her and searched the room, finding a baby carrier hidden behind some blankets and formula in the fridge in the next room over. You lifted the baby and put her in the carrier, strapping it to your chest and chatting idly all the while. You noted that she must be around 4 to 5 months old as she supported her own head just fine. You fed her the formula, mopping up her chin, and prepared yourself to go outside. You positioned yourself by the window, gun in hand and infrared glasses in place. There didn’t seem to be any robots in the vicinity at the moment, which meant that it was time to leave and catch up with your squad. You checked the baby one last time and were glad to see that she was still asleep.

You were ready. You stepped outside the orphanage and started to jog in the same direction you were going earlier, doing your best not to jostle the baby. Maybe, you could get through this and get both you and your little charge to safety. Maybe, you would see Helmut again. Then, the street behind you began to splinter and crumble and the ground gave a great lurch. The city had begun to rise from the ground.

__________________

You debated what to do and came up with some semblance of a plan that had at least a 65% success rate. That was not in the least bit promising, but it was better than the 0% chance you had if you stayed here. You needed to get you and your new passenger off the city somehow, and this was the only plan you had thought of so it would have to do.

You had ducked down in an alley that you recognized as not too far from one of your favorite cafes when your phone began to ring. Quickly, you picked it up and answered it with a brief glance at the caller ID. It was Helmut. __________________

“... Even now, you joke, my Q. Even now.”

“Well, Helmut, you know me. Always look on the bright side of life, even when the city is flying and you’re carrying an orphaned baby.”

“A baby, Q?” His tone was disbelieving and you could picture what he would have said if he were here in front of you. “Only you, Q, could get yourself into this mess. For someone so intelligent, you can be kind to the point of stupidity. I admire it as I admire you, but you must not let your compassion come before your safety.”

“Yes, Helmut. A baby. I think I’ll call her Alena. Maybe give her Heike as a middle name. What do you think? Oh, and you’ll be the godparents of course?”

You could hear Helmut let out a heavy breath and the slight hitch in his voice when he answered. “We’d be honored, Q. Heike will be thrilled and Carl will love having a new playmate. They’ll be like brother and sister I’m certain, eating Turkish Delights even when I’ve specifically told them not to.”

You laughed a bit wetly. “That’ll be nice. If we can get out of the city. We have something to look forward to. Cavities galore.”

He laughed and when he spoke his voice was softer than normal. “You’ve always had a soft heart, darling Q. My friend, I told you that your compassion might get you killed one day.” There it was. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist commenting on what he sometimes thought of as a weakness of yours. You also knew that he wouldn’t have you any other way. He sounded composed over the line, but you knew him well enough to know that he was suppressing everything and trying to hold it back for you to keep your focus on your current situation.

On the other side of the phone, Zemo was glad that he was alone so no one could see their leader fighting to keep his emotions contained. Now was not the time to be showing weakness in front of his squad. They needed him controlled and composed.

You were the only member of his squad that he could be soft with anyway.

“I guess you were right, Boss. I guess you were right. But I’m going to do my best to make sure that today’s not that day.” You paused, holding in a sob. If you weren’t careful and if your plan didn’t succeed, then today would be that day.

Over the course of the conversation, you had been walking as fast as you could, without jostling Alena too much, in the direction of your apartment that was luckily in the center of the city. You dodged more robots, and had the brief thought that whoever had made these things had to be compensating for something.

Why else would they have made so many?

You continued, mustering your nerve as you finally came in sight of your apartment. “I love you, Helmut. You know that, right?”

“I love you too, my Q.” He responded without hesitation.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Helmut. The absolute best. Give my love to Carl and Heike.”

You had reached your apartment as the robots all began to fly towards the bridge side of the city, leaving the way clear for you. “Goodbye, Helmut Zemo. Use that exploding pen at least once for me, won’t you?”

With that, you ended the call and turned off your earpiece. You wanted to spare him what could be your final moments and selfishly did not want to hear a goodbye from him. It might be cruel of you to not give him the closure you now had, but a goodbye from him felt too final. It meant you would never see him or the little smiles he gave you, when he didn’t think it would be professional to laugh at your little asides during mission briefings, again.

Just the thought of never seeing Helmut smile or hearing him laugh again made your tears fall, which you quickly wiped away before they could hit Alena. You brushed your fingers through her baby fine hair and checked on her. “Still asleep, little one? It’s been a hard day for us and it’s about to get harder, but that’s okay because I have a plan.” Your eyes filled with determination as you walked towards your apartment’s makeshift workshop. You had just the project in mind for this.

__________________

You were unaware that in your squad’s base, Zemo was staring at his phone in horrified disbelief. You had hung up on him, and he was unable to help you from here. He was a powerful man, and this feeling of powerlessness both stunned and devastated him.

He could not save you.

Zemo threw the phone, smashing it against the wall, and screamed your name. Not Q, but your full name, the name he hadn’t called you in years. He received only silence in return. He trashed the room until his hands were bloody and as he fell to the ground, he finally allowed his anguish to break free and sobbed. He had not cried like this in years. The destruction of the room and his tears weren’t enough.

Nothing would ever be enough again.

He did the only thing he could do as he recalled your last words. “I will, my Q. I promise.”

Tag List: @rumblelibrary​

A/N: I couldn’t help myself with the reference to the Maximoffs. The Sokovian lullaby is the translated version of the one Wanda sings in WandaVision. Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series.