#i mean hes dying here too and its cool whatever. but this is silly . the other one was NOT silly

[zagreus-eats-your-bread]

Images that go hard

[yourlocalmoon]

Caregiver Dazai hcs

Warnings: None! (Surprising considering its Dazai right?)

Notes: I ACCIDENTLY POSTED THIS WHEN I HADN'T FINISHED IT YET :( anyway, I don't understand bsd characterization yet.. So if Dazai seems reallyy ooc I'm sorry :[ This is centered around reader or you~ But if you want him for actual characters feel free to send an ask and request :D

- Dazai is a very excited caregiver, he likes taking care of you and he isn't afraid to show it! He's very affectionate- Hand holding, kissing your forehead, holding you close. Lots of hugs!! And I mean lots.

- But Dazai is also secretly, very overprotective. He keeps you safe in ways you wouldn't notice unless you looked closely, but you are much too small for that !! So let Dazai cuddle you instead of walking near that alleyway- "Oh- Nope! No going over there~ It's cuddle time!!"

- Speaking of him being secretly overprotective, he's so silly that you won't notice him glaring at anybody who comes a bit too close for his liking!! If he even hears of port mafia members walking near the place you two are headed (because he obviously can sense Chuuya coming a mile away) he will switch walking routes instead of doing his thing where he purposefully walks down that road.

- He will probably baby you even when you're big, which means it's impossible to ignore your regression with him.. And you better not try. You're too busy? Not anymore!! You wanna focus on a project? Uh.. Nope!~ You can't regress? That's alright! Just let him wrap you in a blanket, give you a paci and watch your favorite cartoons together.

- Dazai uses you as an excuse alot to get out of doing paperwork- Kunikida is yelling at him and Dazai is just pouting, "My baby needs me! I can't stay here when my precious baby needs help-" and the thing you need help with is changing your cartoons, somehow it takes three hours before Dazai comes back to do paperwork.. But oh! Atsushi finished it already sooo-

- Dazai coos at you. Constantly. 24/7. You will literally breathe and Dazai is dying from how adorable you are, People know to avoid the room where you can hear the high pitched- "Awh you are such a cutie!!!- oh you need help? Ofcourse- AWHHH~~~"

- In the agency, no one cares you regress. However.. Kunikida IS TIRED OF DAZAI AVOIDING HIS PAPERWORK. So after a bit, they build you a little area near Dazai's desk where you can play.. Now he can't LEAVE. BECAUSE YOU ARE HERE- *Ahem.* anyway.

- But!. If you don't want others to know you age regress, or more specifically the agency- Then Dazai will keep it a secret! He's good at excuses, and very good at knowing when you are regressed or slightly drifting near your headspace. So if you guys are in a important meeting but you're starting to regress, Dazai literally does not care. Man will just pick you up and go "Okay cool, we are gonna leave now :D" just up and leaves with you in his arms.

- Dazai doesn't seem like much of a cook, and he isn't, but he can make the basics. You know those mom's who cut their children's lunch into shapes? Dazai does that. If you are older when regressed, he will make your food into funny shapes and HE LOVES IT. You caused him to start following millions of mom's just so he can keep getting new shapes and ideas.

- Dazai is SO into doing funny voices when you two play together, just hand him a stuffie you want him to play and he's already going into a voice and acting out things.. No matter how dramatic. And no, he isn't embarrassed about getting caught. He'll just drag whoever caught you two into it, so congrats! You'll have another playing buddy!

- If you prefer coloring, he's happy to color right with you! He started using the agency's printer to print out coloring sheets for you, (It also gets on Kunikida's nerves, I mean he loves you too! Thinks you are adorable, but seriously- please Dazai the printer is for agency matters-) and will happily buy you whatever materials you need.. Including finger paint. He's so supportive when you're messy. "All the great artists have caused messes!!" He reassures you.

- But if you are a smaller regressor, or maybe a more calm/sleepy one, he's good at being just quiet enough but still excited enough. If you are tired, he'll carry you. It's comforting to have you rest your head against his chest while he walks around, it's nice to know you are close.

- It's even cuter if when tired, you talk or do sleepy babbles because Dazai literally just nods quietly and goes "Mhmm... Oh really? Wow!" He's trying to stay as quiet as he can, but internally he's cooing :( look at his sweet baby, so sleepy.

- Dazai loves being called 'Dada', I mean, he loves whatever his baby will call him but dada makes him feel all warm inside because yes!!! He is your dada!! It makes him feel even more happy about being able to take care of you.

- Calls you 'His little star' or the most common 'his baby', Usually adds 'his' instead of just baby. A bit possessive, but he adores you too much for someone else to take care of you. "My little star, how about we cuddle and go to sleep together hm? Dada is so tiredd~"

[wario-speedwagon]

i wanna hear abt whatever "the backflip failed to assert dominance" had going on

Haha, now that one is quite a silly name for what was a more serious, mystery story, with the title stupidly referencing what the plot twist is, hehe! Sadly, this wip was abandoned a long while ago as I didn't have clear ideas for what I wanted to do with the story to its end after a certain point, and I wanted to focus my creativity on the two WIPs I was still feeling inspired by (one of which was Pruny! :). However, I'm feeling generous, so I'll just copy/paste the whole unfinished draft below the cut for your own reading, maybe you'll still enjoy it!

It's very rough and clunky at parts, and rereading it for myself took some strength to not immediately change several lines to make it read less confusingly, but it was better than I remember it being! :) The next paragraphs will be spoiling the "twist" and what plot plans I had for it in case you wanna read it for yourself and come to your own conclusions first, so Spoilers in 3, 2, 1...

. . .

So this story takes place in 1993, the year Freddy's would end up dying. We follow the Scott Cawthon phone guy of the Utah location who has just doomed himself by hiring the infamous Dave Miller. Previously up to this point, DSAF 1 happened as normal with the gnarly ending (where Jack and Dave got away with murder and shut down Colorado), but when DSAF 2 happens, Dave arrives to Bakersfield as Jack never showed up, meaning Vegas was the last he ever saw of him. So Dave has been continuing his Freddy's closing mission one place at a time, though eventually losing his passion for it since he's alone again doing it.

However, the Scotts have gotten more and more cautious of Dave over the years and this one is especially proactive about watching Dave and preventing him from achieving his killing MO if at all possible. Killing time at work to cool off suspicions, Dave records some phone tape recordings (which are featured in and taken from Project: Save the Kiddins), then he checks out Scott's paperwork and sees an application by "Mike Schmidt" who seems suspiciously like an anonymous Old Sport, which excites Dave and inspires him to get his old Spring Bonnie as well as Sportsy's Spring Freddy suit too, now! (After all, he can't just kill the kids not suited up, can he?) Sadly though, it would turn out that this is actually the canon FNAF Mike Schmidt, who as you know is also a rotting anonymous zombie serial working at Freddy's...

Meanwhile, Scott, with Dave having left the premises, finally has some free time for himself and decides to fix the Happiest Day machine before having a "dream" (not realizing he's gone into it) and meets a puppet and some ghost children. And then the story leaves off with Scott feeling compelled to save the children's souls.

I didn't have enough draft written to make my subtle hints grow more obvious before revealing, but if you were somehow very smart enough to figure it out, this Scott is actually a Phonified Jack who springlocked himself (perhaps by backflipping, hence the dumb title hehe) on day one of DSAF 2 before he could ever reunite with Dave. That's why he was extra aware of Dave's danger and methods while also feeling drawn to saving the children in the Happiest Day machine :)

I'll almost certainly never return to this WIP, but it was fun revisiting it and even sharing it, so thanks for the opportunity! :D

Hurricane, Utah, 1993

Friday, XX/16/93

Model 51_1 was swamped in paperwork to work out like usual. As always, too many employees to replace, and thus too many positions to refill. Another dayshift spot to fill after another typical event, another nightguard they'd inevitably gone through, it was always the same sh- crap here. Over half a decade of it for this Scott, not that counting did anything to help his spirit any.

Spirit? No, at this rate, he probably didn't have one of those anymore. That’s assuming he ever had one to begin with. Freddy's was effective at killing those off in anyone who worked there.

Focus, Scott. Let's see what we got for today.

Sighing for impending boredom, he adjusted his gloves in preparation for a whole lot of handwriting and took the first packet. 

Applicants. Alright, let’s see. 

As often as they cycled through employees at Freddy's, new applicants were always found for him by means he didn’t want to know. Probably the cause of their staff being so chronically sketchy though. 

Top sheet.

Randall Jade. 

Applying for night guard. A-And dayguard, how convenient…

Experience: sex work, goose control… the latter might be a relevant skillset… 

Phone no.: 1-800-8=D SEXY PHONE

Place of residence: Freddy's hopefully.

Well…the honesty was the opposite of professional, but Freddy's values rock bottom desperation in its applicants above all else. All in all, the programming in his head told him Jade was an ideal candidate for the position–uh, positions.

Next.

Dave Miller. 

Oh.

Oh no.

Dave Miller. 

Applying for dayshift worker. 

Experience: ur mom. 

Phone no.: 69

Place of residence: ur mom. 

Scott felt like he had been marked next for a death sentence. That's essentially what Dave was, all Phone Guys knew it. Dave Miller was an open secret, a promise for destruction for whichever location he picked next. A blight on Freddy’s not even a crucifixion could solve.

The programming in his head told him Miller was an acceptable candidate for the position.

Next.

Scott's hand trembled as he continued to whittle down tonight’s stack of papers.

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

Monday, XX/19/1993

Dave had received an unsurprisingly quick response to his work application just a day after submitting. He was naturally hired. Freddy's only survived because it had no standards. But of course, Dave vowed that that would also be its downfall.

So he showed up for his umpteenth first day. He didn't bother finding the Phoney; both of them should know exactly what was up without fake formalities. They knew their place by now. Those guys were like a hive mind with their programming and company newsletters.

Yet as he entered the building, Scott of course was waiting there to meet him anyway. Dave walked past his trademarked Phone Guy greeting to go see how this place’s Saferoom had changed over the decade he’d been gone. Phoney sighed at being ignored; both of them knew it was better for his immediate safety if he left Dave alone to his devices. Dave had to admit, it was in some ways nice to have his reputation finally precede him.

Old Sport had disappeared after Vegas in 87, and once he finally learned he would no longer be following him around, Dave realized he was going to be alone again for a while. But of course, Sportsy would surely come back for him sooner or later?

But in the years of meantime, Dave had tired of the mocking charade he used to put up for the Phoneys. The end result was always the same anyway. It just wasn't fun anymore, and it certainly wasn't needed.

After all, Dave's score was still undefeated.

He was more wary than usual about trying something too soon, though. The Phone Guys these days are always on edge about him, and they're always the most paranoid in the beginning.

To prove his point, he could see this new Scott carefully watching him from afar right now in his periphery. There was something… distinct about this one though… off-putting in some way he couldn't yet pinpoint, but he had a boring week ahead to digest his thoughts.

The best Dave could come up with for now was that it felt like he knew something the other Phoneys didn't. Like he was “in the know.” Whatever that would mean.

Dave checked the Saferoom, but to his surprise, there weren't any springlock suits here. That…was definitely an unexpected wrench in his plan. He promptly went to go properly meet this Scott after all.

“Phone face. Where the fuck're the suits?”

“Ah, now that I would’ve told you during orientation; we had to get rid of those after the original five murders here back in the 80s. Y'know, to prevent any more scandals here after miraculously saving this location from going under. Higher ups are really attached to this first location for some reason.”

Dave was right ticked off. This Phoney smelled like bullshit.

“Freddy's is dying, Dave, and the company's had to… adapt.”

Dave now had weekend plans to visit Bakersfield.

Not dignifying Scott with a response of acknowledgement, Dave just marched off to the office to fuck around on the computer.

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

Tuesday, XX/20/93

Another boring day of not murdering children. Another day of ignoring Phoney’s paranoia.

Dave decided to explore the security office next to kill some time. 

Scott of course noticed Dave’s detour. Seeing him in person again… it filled him with determination. A determination to… do something about him, certainly to stop his usual plan to shut down this location. He’d already gotten rid of the springlock suits last weekend, a crucial ingredient to Dave’s shenanigans that hopefully bought him more time.

He was personally familiar with what this “man” was capable of, and he wouldn’t have it occur under his watch. And certainly not if his hide depended on it.

…

Well shit. 

“Rip in fuck, nerd.”

Dave kicked the dayguard’s nearly headless corpse aside to raid the office drawers for anything interesting.

Most of it was junk like tape, post it notes, pens… no scissors. Maybe he could just draw some dicks and post them around the–

Ah. A tape recorder. Those’re always fun to mess with.

He played the one that was currently inside.

“Hello? Hello, hello? I have a message for you... to help you get settled on your first night. Umm, I actually–"

Dave immediately paused it. He didn’t know why he expected anything other than the same old tiring Scott voice stuttering through some training script. As the years went on, that same voice only irritated him more and more.

But then Dave smiled with bored inspiration and pressed Record.

"Sorry. I just had to cut that asshole off. What a fuckin' nerd. 

Anyway, good fuckin' going on landing a minimum wage job. Where you have to fend off gigantic felt-covered bastard animals who want to smack your neck and stuff you into a fuckin' bear suit. 

That phone guy left some tips of his own to help you survive. But honestly, it didn't do him much good. Spoiler alert: he fuckin' died. What a nerd! So, good ole Davey's gonna give you some of his pre-recorded safety tips!

By the way, this place is totally fuckin' haunted, and that's on me. I sorta murdered a few dozen kids, back in the 80's and stuffed them into the robots out of pure spite for the company. Don't worry though: kids don't count as real people. I'll call ya tomorrow. And remember: you can't out-wrestle the bear, so don't even try."

Satisfied with a job well done, he hit Stop. It felt good to make a positive difference in the world sometimes. Ah, who was he kidding? He smirked thinking of the next nightguard they’d hire hearing this as they fended for their life.

…He was still bored, so heck, tape #2.

"uh, hello? Hello? uhh, well, if you're hearing this then you made it to day 2! um, congrats! U-uh, I won't talk quite as long this time–"

"Hey, how ya doin' man? It's me again: Big Dick Davey! Night 2, eh? Good job on not getting stuffed into a tacky fuckin' bear suit! Honestly, the night should be the exact same as last night was, just with slightly angrier robots who will try to rip your throat out twice as hard.”

He drifted onto a Foxy-related tangent. He had too many opinions to not share them.

“...Well, that's enough pretending that I care about your safety for this night. I'll call you tomorrow with more Freddy's-related bullshit trivia. See you on the meanside.”

Dave looked up at the clock. Seriously? Only 2:15? 

Ugh, whatever, let’s just record another.

"Hello, hello! Hey, you're doin' great! Uh, most people–"

"Hey, yo, doggo, it's me, Davey. Wow, night 3. Incredible. See, if there's one thing I can do, it's give bad advice to future night guards. 

By the way, since these messages are pre-recorded, I have no actual idea whether you're actually alive or not. Let's be honest, statistically, you probably died back on night 1.” 

He looked down at the poor bastard on the ground behind him. 

“Priceless. If you're still alive, worry not. To survive tonight, just do the same shit you did last night, but better.

Just don't dick around and you'll be fine. I'll speak to you tomorrow, dude.”

Dave was starting to get bored again, so he called it a day and stood up from the office chair.

Oh, right. He should probably let Scott know about that bozo on the ground. He considered just letting him be a fun surprise for Scott later, but he was still in the paranoia phase, so Dave would probably be blamed for murdering him if he didn’t report it. He missed that one Colorado Phone Guy, he was probably the most chill one he ever had the pleasure of fucking over.

It was also the Phone Guy he and Old Sport got to take down together. 

Man he missed those fleeting days.

…

“Hey Phone-fuck, yer dayguard’s dead.” He thumb-pointed behind his shoulder toward the room he’d just come from.

“Oh godd-dang it, already?”

Scott grumpily walked over to the security office. Dave had to admit, this one was off-putting for sure, but he appreciated the laxer programming on the fake professionalism of this guy.

Though it made him uncannily human to him, and that circled back to off-putting. 

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

Another night, another stack of papers for Scott motherhecking Cawthon.

He let out a stressed sigh. 

Already he could expect to file another dead security guard. More applicants to reconsider already too. Jeebus, it was only the first night on the job, Randall!

Well, comparing the previously declined applicants against each other again, he– hey, wait a minute, there’s another new application that was submitted today.

Mike Schmidt

Applying for nightguard.

Experience: 20 years in night security, 10 years with Freddy’s.

Place of residence: Hurricane, Utah

H-How conveniently perfect. Although there was no Mike Schmidt in any of the company files despite such a history… He was one of those name-changers. …Whatever, taking their applicants at face value was the Freddy’s way. He of all people should know that better than anyone else.

The programming in his head told him Schmidt was a perfect candidate.

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

Wednesday, XX/20/93

Dave came in for day 3 of bored snooping around. Hell, maybe he should just start the killing already, just so he could move on from this extra depressing, windowless dump. 

The Phone Guy learned surprisingly quickly not to interact with Dave if not necessary, but that still didn’t end his unusually keen hypervigilance on his movements throughout the building. Dave half considered just dismantling this Phone Guy early himself since his usual MO was already being derailed off tradition.

Not committed to any particular plan yet, Dave went to the kitchen to locate a knife or any sort of stabby paraphernalia for future reference. And to his severe chagrin, there wasn’t a single knife to be found in any of the drawers or counters. Not even any forks.

It was a good fuckin’ thing Dave was a creative thinker, and right now, he was using those creative juices to think of payback for that damn Phoney. Phone Guys were never this annoyingly proactive.

But what, did this guy really think Dave wouldn’t provide his own tools when the time comes? The more annoying Phoneys often had a knack for thinking they’re two steps ahead of his plans, but all those Phone Guys were long gone now. Dave grinned at the thought of that. Served those creeps right.

He found himself in the office. There was paperwork strewn about the desk. There was no reason not to rifle through it. At the top was an application that Scott seemed to have accepted based on the red pen marks circling him when the others seemed blank.

Mike Schmidt, huh?

The more Dave read and pondered his application, the more a hope unexpectedly began to flicker where his heart should be. This guy had quite a history with these restaurants…

He booted up the computer to check the employee file on him, and there was one. Opening it… it seemed to be created this morning? This was a good sign.

Mike Schmidt.

Age: ?? (Note: Avoided answering)

Residence: Hurricane, Utah

Employment history: 1993-current, Nightguard, Location #1

Note: Skin does not look healthy. Avoid physical contact in case of STD, we can’t afford such lawsuits like we used to. Mike doesn’t talk much either. Exercise caution around him.

Heart elated, Dave promptly headed off to the security room.

…

He hit Record.

“...Old Sport! Oh, how I've missed you! You came back. You always come back. Have you come back for me, old sport? Have you come back for ole Davey? I knew it, I just knew that you really loved me! 

Look, I have to go, old sport. But, I'll be right back tomorrow night, okay? Stay alive, old sport. I'll speak to you again tomorrow, sportsy!"

And with that promise recorded, Dave excused himself from work early to start his drive to Bakersfield a couple days ahead of schedule.

And Scott was awe-struck to see Dave just run out like that. The programming screamed how wrong it was and urged him to drag him back here, but the programming also screamed at him to stay here on-site during working hours.

But most of all, his memories screamed that Dave was up to something disastrous. And this time, he would be at the receiving end of the catastrophe.

His programming faithfully corrected each and every one of the panicked swears he muttered as he paced back and forth.

Unable to calm down all the tension in his head, Scott looked for something to distract his mind from the impending dread. 

There. Something. That da-dang machine over there. 

It was always broken, and with no Dave to watch like a hawk right now, maybe finally fixing the poor thing would calm him down. Clearly no one else was going to do it so he might as well. He went to Parts and Service for a wrench.

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

A dream of being at his old Freddy’s job. 

It was disorienting. 

It probably wasn’t real.

Before long, he noticed a puppet standing there before him.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“W-What do you want? What’s going on?”

“The five children. 

Ten years later and they still do not rest.”

“I… don’t understand.”

 But that felt like a lie after he said it.

“Gabriel. Fritz. Susie. Jeremy. Cassidy. 

They’re all still waiting for rest.”

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

Thursday, XX/21/93

Yesterday was strange. He’d had the strangest dream when he fell asleep against the machine he’d just fixed, and then he felt compelled to carry out even stranger errands for the puppet in that dream. But… it felt right to do it. Something about the robots seemed tame this morning.

-End WIP

[crazylittlejester]

Heyyyyyy how y’all doiiinnnggg…..

It’s been while, hey siri play “DEAD” by Melanie Martinez -

A) from that old post about what I would want to see in the fic: lwk I’m cool w/ whatever I put in (what I though was at the time) a prompt for like 500 words and did not think this far ahead 😭 lol I trust ur judgement on whatever gets added I’ll eat it up like those rlly yummy life saver mints

B) I’m back babyyyyyy the Ao3 curse works harder but I’m harder >:3

may or may not have almost died but that’s okay it keeps me on my toes. I have new medical insight on how to improve my whump 💪🤩😍

C) I’m abesolutely so sorry about that anon (ik I’m super late to the party) what they said was so out of line and I cannot think of what you could have even possibly done that would (unjustly) cause such a reaction?? People are assholes especially when they can abuse anonymousy online. I’m glad u seem to be doing ok 💜

D) I know i say this every time and blah blah blah but please make sure to not push urself over creating content and pleasing followers. I will (likely) not be dying anytime soon and I can wait as long as necessary for the Cia fic dude I make the prompt with the understanding that with you as the writer I would be meeting your needs/criteria for my silly little mentally ill twink to get sent through the meat grinder. Take as long as you need 💜

On a much less feely note:

E)

(No hate to you or anyone really who has this opinion)

Theory/hot take/opinion/etc:

Echoes of Wisdom (new game coming in sept) Zelda ≠ Fable (from SNES + game boy games)

Like, I get it, on a surface level it makes so much sense because the EOW game is in the same artsyle as the Links Awakening (remastered) game. Nintendo doesn’t really use the same artsyle with games (atleast since the N64) unless they are direct sequels, prequels, or otherwise linked (BOTW & AOC). New game but with the same artsyle as previous game? Obviously linked!

Except, no??? Here’s where that opinion doesn’t hold as strong:

the main peice of evidence here is that the Zelda in the trailers is the Zelda from OOT.

(I really wish I could put pictures as anon 😭)

Verbatim. That is her. She is wearing a pink dress, trapped in a pink crystal, while link fights and eventually cracks open said crystal. It’s hard to see the dress because of the crystal obscuring it, but in another clip (when the staff is first seen i believe) you can see her in the dress and it’s her.

Even if it’s not, it’s definitely not Fable.

There are two (?) versions of the Zelda’s that fall under “Fable”. one is in a blue dress (ALTTP) and one is in a white dress white a pink over apron-thingy. While its arguable that the crystal makes it look pink, or its too dark to see anything, ultimately the tabard is not the same and the top being two parts is not there, so no, its not Fable.

Which is really weird, because the Link is in fact the same link as the SNES + Gameboy (I call it the “Pixel Era”) Link. Brown Longsleeved undershirt + green sleeveless dress-tunic over it. Even weirder, he wield the hylian sheild. WHICH DID NOT EXIST BEFORE OOT. Again, not Pre-3D link.

It does exist in ALBW, meaning if you are into LU then it works with legend being the same person in all those games, but ALBW is canonically the “successor” to ALTTP

BUT GANON IS HERE?????? Hellooo????

(Fun fact: Gannon is what his pig/beast form is called while gannondorf is what his Gerudo form is called! :D)

Gannon only exists in the pixel Era games + ALBW. All of the 3d games use gannondorf. So this is such a weird thing to exist.

EVEN MORE CONFUSING, THE ZORA!?!??!?

If you don’t know what im referring to, for like literally 2-5 seconds there is a clip of the zora of this game. Ok, cool. Zelda game, with water, therefore there’s obviously gonna be zora.

(This is a “duh” moment for older fans but pls stick with me lol)

There are two versions of the zora: pre-OoT and post-OoT. TLDR; pre-OoT they look like horrifying fish monsters and try to kill you, Post-OoT they become hot and even get shipped with link in the later games. Hyrule historia (which is not the most reliable sometimes) explains it better but it has to do with the big Triple Timeline. The difference in zora design depends on which timeline you’re looking at, one of the timelines doesn’t have them at all.

So what’s so confusing? Is does the zora design not fit?

Yes!! You know why? BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO OF THEM. BOTH ZORA DESIGNS. IN THE SAME GAME. CLEARLY INTERACTING IN THE FIVE SECOND CLIP.

Also this was pointed out by my sibling: in the beginning, the hood long wears is eerily similar to the Hylian Hood in totk/botw. Later on in the trailer, my cousin pointed out a canon that looked “like it was zonai tech” but it was just a green cannon so tbh that’s more loose.

The Gaurd designs are also kinda weird to me? I can’t tie them back to any of the games bc of the weird helmet shape, and their uniforms look exactly like link’s first outfit in Hyrule warriors, though that seems unintentional.

Anyways. This game is. Something. I really don’t think it’s related to previous games (I hope not for the sake of lore holes it could tear up) but what we do know is:

- OoT Zelda has been taught Ctrl C + Ctrl V by magic yellow orb and uses a staff.

- Likely Takes place in the downfall timeline due to artstyle, the fact that the enemy zora exist, and the fact that Gannon is here in beast form

- atleast some inspiration from botw/Totk with the copying and open exploration mechanics

- there is maybe some alternate space/dimension bullshit from that one clip of Zelda moving blocks of water like she’s Moses

- takes place where the Hylian shield exists and therefore likely the story of a hero is still a thing

- takes place where BOTH ZORA meet and interact with eachother

This is driving me crazy. My dad says it’s the Zelda multiverse 😭

Sorry for the word vomit, I rlly needed to info dump ✌️

Your favorite void crawler,

Mandarin Warriors 🍊

OH MY GOD HEY, HI, I WAS GENUINELY WORRIED ABOUT YA

a. alskkddk okay 👍

b. oh my god I really hope that you’re doing okay dude, or at least that you’re feeling a bit better 🫶🫶🫶 sending hugs and love your way my guy

c. people sometimes suck and I considered turning off anons for a bit after that but i have too many wonderful anons and id hate to lose any of em because of one idiot

d. it’s going to be the next thing I put up when I come back from my so called ‘mental health break from writing’ 😭 (i literally can’t seem to stop writing, i am glued to my google docs 💔). Im not sure if you saw the post (and its totally okay if you didn’t, youve clearly been going through a lot and i genuinely hope that you’re okay) where I said part of why it’s takin so long js because I’m writing two separate versions of the fic because it’s heavy enough I feel it should be rated mature, but I’m making a ‘watered down version’ for people who were really waiting for this fic but dont wanna read anything rated higher than teen. I don’t write explicit things, but we’ve crossed the line from ‘implying things’ and into the ‘traumatic past events are being discussed’ zone and if im gonna write about trauma I’m gonna Write About Trauma, an’ yeah

i really hope you don’t die anytime soon anon, i don’t know what it is exactly that you just went through and you do not have to tell me, but i sincerely hope you’re doing okay, and if not okay, at least feeling better. I really was worried about ya 💜

and to yap about EoW:

IM GLAD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THE HOOD AND THOUGHT OF THE ZONAI STUFF, IT REMINDED ME A LOT OF TOTK

i think itd be really cool if it was a new Link and Zelda. I love the like, art/animation style they chose, and I doubt nintendo is ever gonna tell us which Link this is 💀 but we can always have our theories 💔

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR YAPPIN, ITS WHAT THE YAP BOX IS FOR! FEEL FREE TO INFODUMP WHENEVER DUDE I LOVE IT HEAR IT, AND YOU SERIOUSLY HAD A LOT OF INTERESTING THINGS TO SAY

i know this is like the fourth time im saying this but again, I hope you’re alright. I missed ya, it’s good to hear from you again 💜

[jestiamy]

here i put off doing this. way too long

💭 ✈️ 🎮 (video gamesfor. undertale ocs in particular but i dont care)🖊️💍

❤️ 🤍 💔 💘🧡 💚 💙 💜 🖤 (i thought all of the hearts were pretty cool/hj)

🍝 🍦 🍔

😊 🤔 🧐 🤩 (starry eyes for. venera)😥 😓 😞 (😞 for. undertale ocs in particular)🤒 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

i want. venera and your. undertale ocs(more specific the ones u sent in the oc channel that one time ever)(i thought the one on the far left was cool but. all of them) and just to be silly throw in an. oc you barely talk about because why not.

this is for the. oc emoji stuff or whatever if u forgor(its been several days and ive been putting it off)

also would you like for me to put the. definitions next to the emojis(i would. prefer if you did this for me because i always forget btw) or liek. u dont care. or wyateverf.

I am fine ever with you not putting the things next to the emojis (I just open a separate tab and copy and paste the questions over) but I can definitely do that for you ya ++ edit like. almost at the end (currently on thinking emoji). I fully misread the part about venera and undertale ocs the first few times so I've just been doing random guys plus venera and the occasional undertale oc. genuinely my bad. my reading comprehension is not. especially good today. the rest will be. venera and undertale guy focused solely and stuff

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)?

I actually just end up giving almost all of my ocs a shuffle of intp/istp/intj ; the only outlier I have is. where I do the same thing except it's entp/estp/entj for more outgoing characters. the reason for this is because I've taken this test like three times and I got 50/50 split on intp/istp and I took it again recently and got 50/50 on intp/intj and I only know anything about those ones ; everything else (ennegram/other) I. don't know

✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person?

all of my ocs are. homely people. though a select few (makya and venera and. probably someone else I'm forgetting) are very not

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

Light likes reading, Jianwei likes theater and other related art forms when he can manage the money for it, and Gamma. apparently wanders up mountains. (they like gardening)

🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos?

Rana (twst oc) actually does have one but. only one. a claw one on his back. otherwise Makya has a few (mostly skulls and clouds and whatever) but only in that au that's set like. I think ten years post canon. before that he was too busy living in the literal 1950s and then being cursed to bother. oh and light has those cracks on their bones ; but that's less tattoo and more. cracks on their bones.

💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings?

Jianwei has ear ones, Makya has. a lot (one on lip, three on ears, two near eyebrow[one above one below]), and probably more I'm. forgetting. but I think most don't really tend to give them very often.

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

I can't. really think of any (too large of a selection to chose from) ; though. I mean a good plus for all of them is that so far none of them has ever eaten a person. that's like, so cool and positive of them right

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

Percei (other twst oc) technically is half eldritch abomination/parasite-trying-to-achieve-symbiosis-but-oh-my-god-that-isn't-how-science-works. it's only morally questionable because Percei's other half is like, full 14 year old boy dying slowly because of that. they both know and are totally okay with it but. definitely questionable. / Venera. is really secretive. which isn't really a big deal outside of the antag!au and even then in the antagonist au it's less "keeping secrets because I keep secrets" and more "if I do not lie I will be potentially put in extreme danger" so it's. definitely a trait. / Light. tends to disengage mid conversation sometimes to answer the little voice guys in their head. this interrupts many conversations. they do not feel keen to stop this. though in serious situations they can and will ignore the voice guys in their head until they are no longer in peril.

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

Jianwei would sell your kidney for you without telling you if he thought he would get enough money out of it / Percei is a walking murder. like literally. he is dying perpetually / Rana holds a lot of repressed anger. he is so angry. he tries to funnels this into enthusiasm, but he is not very good at it so he's just kind of. pissed off. but he smiles very tensely during that.

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

most of my ocs have the typical 'friends and family thing' - though antagonist venera is the only one with a specific person they are like. fully attached to. no one else.

🧡 ORANGE HEART — does your oc tend to prioritize family or friends?

makya would prefer family, but. he accidentally chose friends when it came down to it anyway. jianwei firmly prioritizes family. venera prioritizes family - though it's not really their choice (think: shapeshifter family. not. nuclear.) if she was allowed to chose it'd probably be friends. light prioritizes family they chose - which technically could count under friends. gamma prioritizes friends. rana prioritizes friends. percei prioritizes family, though it depends (rana ranks above distant family in percei's eyes, but his parents and rana are sort of on equal grounds of importance to him.) hong prioritizes family. he once prioritized friends. he no longer thinks that way. ch'en prioritizes family - though he sees them more in a typical found family light then the shapeshifter type family. gongdai prioritizes family. I could go on but I ran out of names

💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any?

I don't really think about it - only major exceptions are Light (zalgo and arial), Makya (fluent english & russian, conversational german and french, somewhat okay italian), Rana & Percei (fluent common, shockingly good old trade, and native nothern rosen)

💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside?

I have said it before but. all of them are inside people except makya, jianwei, and venera.

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

Venera can do some pretty heavy illusion work, but mostly they just use it for parlor tricks and storytelling. Haven't sorted out Rana & Percei yet but they probably could do something cool once I do. I say venera is pretty good at it, but it was hard to get to this point (they had a lot of time to practice.) and rana is average, while percei seesaws between "prodigy level good" and "astonishingly bad" depending on their health of the day

💜 PURPLE HEART — what is your oc's ancestry/genetic background?

I try not to think too hard about it. makes my head spin (I have way too much information about all of them.) the most detailed chart I've ever made on a family tree was for this one naruto oc named Itori. I charted out everything to his great great grandparents. I never want to think about it again. (I do have charts, but I refuse to do this one unless given specific characters.)

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?

Okay so the first one kind of varies. I don't often let my ocs explicitly kill people, but it's definitely happened at least once for most of them (makya was a very. infamous? mercenary? sort of. he was in a group of mercenaries but he wasn't really known for his work. he moved on to mafia work after being cursed) ; Jianwei had a sister once. he does not have a sister anymore. she's not really dead in any way that'd matter - but he definitely doesn't claim himself as her family now. it'd be kind of a dick move to after everything and whatever, anyways. [he counts for both of the last ones]

🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

Sirik likes lasagna. this is the only thing that comes to mind (I don't often think about ocs favourite foods. and also I've been at this for like fifty minutes now)

🍦 SOFT ICE CREAM — what is/are your oc's favorite ice cream flavor(s)?

Jianwei likes mint chocolate chip, Venera likes chocolate though he likes trying weird flavours if he kind find them, Makya likes cookies and cream, Sirik likes neapolitan, and. I don't know. Karius likes rainbow sherbert.

🍔 HAMBURGER — is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer?

I honestly forget there's a difference between the two. Anyways, Makya is good at cooking but awful at baking comparatively, Sirik can bake but sucks at cooking, Rana can do both but it's really hard to convince him to try, Percei can do neither but is willing to try if asked, and Karius can do both - but needs to be carefully talked down from attempting to do so very often. he tries very 'adventurous' combinations that taste genuinely awful.

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?

jianwei varies between conman, sad guy, and that one homeless guy that sleeps on playgrounds and trees sometimes. he generally tries to take it a day at a time - big picture thinking stresses him out. he mostly wants to just get a roof over his head right about now, I'd imagine

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

jianwei stares forlornly into the distance a lot. this is just his default facial expression. he has no idea he does this. antagonist v has trouble understanding what is and is not edible sometimes (??? why keep fake fruit on a table?? it's fruit. in a fruit bowl. why is this not edible?????) ; I'd share more fun facts but. my eyes are kind of starting to hurt. I've been looking at this tumblr box for an hour now.

🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional?

v is more logic driven by emotion ; antag!v is more emotion driven by emotion. sirik is emotion driven by logic. karius is logic driven by logic.

🤩 FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions?

venera is a planner but only in the short term, and only so they can hold up the fact they tend to be spontaneous if they can get away with it. antagonist venera is a planner, but only to hold up the fact they have no idea what they're doing or what's going on at any moment of the day

😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool?

Venera keeps their cool really easily - but most of antagonist venera's like entire personality is being stressed. their face tends to hide that though (resting face is very. 'super evil' aligned. they do not know it does this.) sirik is prone to being stressed easily too and doesn't really hide it - karius is also stressed, but unlike sirik, very tries to hide it. he mostly succeeds too.

😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge?

venera is open minded, but prefers to keep to themselves unless pushed otherwise. (see: the literal fucking ancient tomb they have in their room they've never once tried to decipher. if someone went "hey, venera, what does this book in ancient greek say." they'd probably find a reason to try) ; karius is. very stubborn. though he's naturally inquisitive he tries to curb that because. that's not really the best stance to have in his world and whatever

😞 DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone?

Light attracts others - they at first generally preferred to be alone but. the giant void of darkness really tends to change perspective. they no longer like being alone.

🤒 FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily?

venera gets sick all of the time. they don't really show that unless it's really bad though. inversely, antagonist venera actually has a really good immune system - though they tend not to cause a scene if it's really bad, they'll get all annoying if it's like a common cold or something.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?

Venera has the rest of their little shapeshifter clan guys. Antagonist Venera has Macaque (which. probably counts?). Sirik has Karius. Karius as Sirik. Light has the void (and that melty guy in it). Gamma has. Omicron. probably.

[lightphieric]

Virtue's Last Record: Numbers

Summary: Sigma tries to convince himself that Zero is an idiot. Title from the Omori OST. CWs: Okay, I feel like I have to explain myself a little bit here. I am Jewish and headcanon Sigma as being Jewish as well, and that kind of resulted in this chapter having some sideways references to the Holocaust. To be clear, this is not me trying to equate the silly fictional Nonary Game with a real life atrocity - these are just the connections I imagine a Jewish person who was actually in this situation (i.e. Sigma) would inevitably draw. So take care, and hopefully it doesn't come off as too tasteless.

“The Nonary Game” was a stupid name.

In between being an overall superstar and completely carrying every team he was on through the escape rooms, Sigma worked on his list of petty grievances against Zero Sr. His rabbit was annoying and mean, the lions were a creepy point of obsession, and even the name of his sick deathtrap could use some work.

He knew what “nonary” meant, of course. Of or pertaining to the number nine. But what significance did nine really have in this game? Nine points were needed to escape, which seemed arbitrary, and there were nine participants, which just seemed convenient. Quark was probably around nine years old, but honestly, if this whole game somehow turned out to all be about him, Sigma would laugh.

There were cool things about the number nine, for sure, like how the digits of any of its multiples always added right back up to nine. And it didn’t seem like it would be hard to exploit that in this kind of game. Every participant could have been assigned a number one through nine, maybe (Sigma thought he might be “five,” for whatever reason). The solos and pairs could have matched up with each other based on multiples, and certain multiples would open certain doors. The Ambidex Game could factor in at some point, too, he figured, although in all honesty that felt a little like a hat-on-a-hat at that point. Maybe it would be simpler to make the game a scavenger hunt for the one numbered door that all the participants could all open together…

Well, shit. Now he was thinking like Zero. And he really didn’t like that look for himself.

Thinking about this didn’t make Sigma a maniacal kidnapper. These were just plans for a fun board game. Yeah, a board game. He’d design it once he was free. A bestselling board game, based on his trauma. Ugh.

The truth was, Sigma needed to think nasty things about Zero Sr. and tear apart his grand ideas. He needed to pretend he could outsmart this guy, just to distract him from how sinister this whole game might have been. He’d heard the theories from the others that this was a Radical-6 quarantine facility. That the Nonary Game might have been a guilt-free way to get the infected to exterminate themselves. That this wasn’t the only one of these… facilities.

Sigma had been taught all his life that he couldn’t allow a mass extermination like this to happen again. Never again could people be sequestered with numbers printed menacingly on their wrists, watched over like hawks by some sadistic game master before ultimately dying by poison. Preventing shit like this was basically one of the tenets of his religion, and, well… Sigma didn’t know what he could have done to stop this, but dammit, being a part of this sure made him feel like he’d failed somehow.

Like he himself, through inaction, was responsible for unleashing a monster like Zero III onto the world.

He’d heard once that the best and only way to overcome someone like that once they already had power was to clown on them. He wasn’t so sure that was true, but in this moment, it felt like it was in his best interests to regard Zero as the incompetent clown he was sure he wasn’t.

[forever-rogue]

HI LOVE, PLS FOR THE AUTUMN PROMPTS #12 WITH BUCKY I’M WHEEZING

AN | This is one of my favorite prompts! You know I love Spooky Szn more than anything!

Warnings | mentions of dying (as a joke); reference to ptsd (in passing); use of pet name (bunny)

Prompt Used | “I paid $50.00 for this haunted house. I better die.”

Masterlist | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I can't believe you managed to convince me to do this," Bucky's face was pulled into a dismissal expression as you beamed at him. You tugged on his arm with excitement as the line moved forward, throwing him a smile almost as sweet as the Halloween candy that had been everywhere for the last two months. He looked over at you, and opened his mouth to say something but stopped to lean down to give you a kiss first, "all I'm saying is that for all the hype this place gets it should be good."

"It will be," you insisted excitedly, "and ugh...it's basically a premium haunted house so...its a little bit more than the average haunted house."

"Premium haunted house?" he raised an eyebrow in surprise as you took his hand and laced your fingers together, "what do you mean?"

"Well, ugh, this is supposed to be really creepy and realistic and actually scare you," you explained sweetly, hoping he wouldn't flip out too much when you revealed how much this place was going to cost, "so you know the saying, you get what you pay for…"

"Oh no," he appeared worried for a moment before being unable to conceal the grin on his face, "alright, out with it. What are you hiding, little bunny?"

"Well, this is the hip, cool haunted house and-"

"How much is it?" you gave him a little smile as he just huffed in bemused exasperation.

"Fifty dollars…"

"Fifty dollars-"

"Each."

"Fifty dollars each?!" for a moment his expression grew worried as you just give him a nervous smile, "you know, back when I was young-"

"I know, I know," you pulled him forward with you, "you walked twenty miles to and from school in old shoes, and you worked for a dollar a week. Well times are different and these days we're paying for premium haunted houses. Besides, I asked you on this date, so it's technically my treat. Just relax and have fun!"

"Fine," he agreed, "you're an odd one, little bunny. But I still love you."

"And just how am I odd?"

"Who enjoys paying money to get scared?"

"A lot of people apparently since haunted houses are a huge commodity!" you huffed and lightly stomped your foot as if to prove your point, "I promise it'll be fun! And if for some reason you're still Mr. Grumpy Boots afterwards, we'll do whatever you want."

"Fine," Bucky was never one to turn down a challenge, "for someone that gets frightened by her own shadow, you sure do love Halloween a lot."

"Halloween is everything baby," your eyes practically lit up at the mention of your favorite holiday, "you know it's the best time of year for so many reasons! Foods, the aesthetic, fall - all of it. You can't out argue me on this one!"

"I'm not even going to try and bother," you were nearing the ticket booth and growing more and more excited by the second. Bucky could practically feel your excitement radiating onto him as you clutched his hand tightly, "I'm glad you're happy. That's all that matters."

"I am happy. You make me so happy," you promised and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "I love you, James. Hey - are you okay with this? Like really, if you don't want to, we can figure something else out."

"I'm okay," he promised, offering you a small smile, "really. I love you too. Now, let's go and get scared."

"Yay! Oh Bucky, you're the best! I love you so much," you almost jumped into his arms when he so easily acquiesced to your request. When it came down to it, you knew he would do just anything for you, "if this totally sucks, you know I'll try and make it up to you."

"All I'm saying is that I'm going to pay Fifty-five dollars for this haunted house. I better die," he looked at you with such a straight face, for a moment you couldn't tell if he was joking or serious; but you both quickly burst into laughter, "come on!"

“Alright - but don’t get mad when your wish comes true and you die!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That wasn’t too bad at all,” you shrugged as you walked out of the haunted house, into the now chilly autumn evening. You stopped for a moment to admire the stars before noticing that Bucky was slowly trailing behind you, no longer at your side. You snorted lightly before crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him, “what? James...did you…did that actually scare you?”

“What?! No,” he insisted with a dramatic scoff as a grin stretched across your features, “that was child’s play at best. The costumes weren’t even that convincing. But I hope you had fun, baby.”

“I did,” you held out your hands towards him, still not convinced that he was telling the truth, “why don’t we-”

“BOO!” the voice behind Bucky was enough to make him jump out of his skin as he yelped and practically sprinted over to you. You almost doubled over in laughter as Bucky shoved you in front of him as a human shield, “you jumped! Actually jumped!”

“Sam!” Bucky groaned at the sight of his best friend wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he walked over to you, his girlfriend Leila at his side, and shaking her head at his childishness. You exchanged a look with her and rolled your eyes at your silly boyfriends, “you’re an asshole.”

“Had to capitalize on the moment,” Sam laughed as Bucky sighed, “man, I can’t believe you didn’t realize we were behind you. What happened to the White Panther - too busy being scared?”

“I was...I was not scared!”

“You were too!”

“Boys,” you quickly interrupted the two of them, “why don’t both of you shut up and we can all go out and get dinner? Then the two of you can be idiots and argue and I can actually spend time with someone with a brain.”

“Hey!” they echoed in unison as you linked arms with Leila and the two of you skipped away to your cars. They would catch up soon enough.

“Love you!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 14: Back to Basics (De-Aged)

AO3

Prev

The constant attention after her temporary death was a little stifling. Adrien was good about not overwhelming her. He’d seen her take bad hits before and he knew (from personal experience) that the cure would bring the two of them back to normal. No, despite being there in person as she died, Adrien was not drowning her in attention. She was thankful.

Her family, despite her constant reassurances however, did not get the memo. That she was okay. That she would be okay. Now and in future attacks. No, instead they constantly blew up her phone. ESPECIALLY during akuma attacks. Which was one of the only times she didn’t even have her phone on her. But whatever. One good thing did come from her temporary death though. She was talking to her dad. Like, actually talking. The bonding kind of talking. He wouldn’t talk to her about hero stuff (though she imagined he also wanted to forget about her “death” seeing as it was the third time he’d seen the dead body of one of his children). No, instead they got to know each other. She asked about Bridgette, which led to her finding out about his fiance- Selina Kyle. Marinette was really looking forward to meeting her, hopefully next time she took a portal to Gotham.

They also talked about Marinette’s designs- Uncle Jagged, MDC, how the company started, where she wanted to go with the company. Most of their conversations stayed at the surface level of getting to know you, but they were definitely getting closer. Though, she thought that if he’d just talked to her about hero work already (or took her on another patrol), their bonding would happen more naturally. Less like twenty questions. Her brothers, though…

Her brothers were constantly asking questions about how she was, how she felt, if she was safe, if she was sure they couldn’t convince her to leave Paris. It was a lot. But still nice. Nice to know that they cared so much, even if her death was only temporary (as she’d tried to remind them a million times).

The whole “dying painfully and then being resurrected after the battle” thing also led to her and Adrien making a lot of plans. Different ideas and things to do in case of certain akumas, types of attacks, deaths, just a LOT of contingency plans. She’d filled Alfred in on some of the plans, since several involved that half of her family or running to Gotham. But she didn’t tell her brothers. Or her dad. No need to worry or stress them out more than they already were. So she moved on. For several weeks. An entire month passed without Hawkmoth using a nightmare inducing akuma. It was nice. --- Adrien Agreste was not having a good day. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault though. Well, okay that’s a lie. It was definitely his fault. He’d thought after his crazy declaration in Gotham, asking Mari out would be easy. Simple. It was not. All the times he’d said she was “just a friend” were definitely coming back to haunt him. Every single time he tried to ask her out, something happened. An akuma attack. Marinette fell. Emergency photoshoot. Mari dropped all of her stuff and was almost late to class. Lila got someone to confront Marinette about something. He suddenly had an extra fencing lesson with Kagami.

But no more. No. Even though today hasn’t exactly gone as planned (overslept, late for photoshoot which made him extra late for school, got permission to eat at school but forgot to bring his food and then Mari left lunch instead of staying because her brother called so he didn’t even get to see her, forgot his science homework- yeah, bad day) it would be better. Because now he’s walking over to Mari’s and he’s going to ask her out if it’s the last- The shrill blaring of the akuma alarm breaks him out of his thoughts. Really? Now? Groaning, he darts into an alley.

“I blame you.” He deadpans to Plagg, glaring at the kwami’s maniacal laughter.

“Sure kid, sure. You know Pigtails is crazy ‘bout you. Doesn’t mean anything that you can’t ask her out.” He says once his laughter dies down.

“I hope you’re right.” Adrien mumbles. “Plagg, claws out!” He smirks as he’s transformed, feeling a lightness he hasn’t felt all day. He immediately uses his staff to launch himself onto the roof, taking in his surroundings. No crazy weather. No giant stone monster or baby. Nothing flying around. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Frowning, he retracts his staff to call Ladybug. It rings, but she doesn’t answer.

“Hey Bugaboo. Where should we meet? I don’t see anything unusual. Call me back.” He hands up and decides his best bet is to patrol around, keep an eye out for anything unusual. Just as he starts to think that maybe it was a false alarm, a red blob flies at him. He blinks.

“Chat! Follow me!” Tikki directs, whirling around and zooming away. Adrien’s heart sinks. Please let her be okay. I can’t watch her die again. Please. The words go on a cycle in his head as he runs behind Tikki, too worried to ask. He frowns when she dips down into an alley where someone- not Mari- is waiting.

“What’s going on?” He asks, completely confused.

“The akuma was able to get to Marinette before she could transform.” Tikki explains and Adrien frowns.

“Marinette? Are you- that’s Marinette?” He asks in bewilderment. The girl standing in front of him couldn’t be older than three.

“Unfortunately. The akuma can de-age people.” Tikki says with a sigh.

“Oh gosh, okay. Hi, I’m Chat Noir!” Adrien says, squatting down so that he’s eye level. He extends a hand, smiling at the girl.

“Kitty!” She giggles, throwing her arms around him.

“Oh, uh, hi.” He says, putting his arms around her and picking her up. He turns to Tikki.

“So is this one of those “take her to Mr. Wayne until the fight is over because she can’t be Ladybug right now” situations? Or a “hide her until this is all over” situation? We had  a lot of plans. De-aging was not one of them.” Adrien asks.

“Take her to Mr. Wayne. This akuma is sneaky and we can’t risk Marinette revealing her identity.” Tikki says.

“What?” Adrien asks. How could a baby Mari reveal her identity?

“Adri, wanna cookie please.” Mari says with a pout. His jaw drops and she giggles, patting his face. “Silly kitty!”

“She still knows?” He asks, his voice jumping an octave as he panics. How much did she know? Did she still know everything about the other kwami and the other heroes and- oh god, her dad is Batman. Oh this could be bad. Very bad.

“Okay, nevermind that, where are the glasses? I’ve got to get her out of here before someone hears her tell everyone’s secrets.” Adrien says, suddenly understanding the entire situation.

“Here go!” Mari says, pulling glasses out of her purse. Adrien takes them with a forced smile and merges Plagg and Kaalki. Though the akuma didn’t appear to be deadly, it was going to be a long battle for just one person. Especially since this akuma was actually good at hiding. He makes the portal and steps through, scoffing at the immediate defensive stances from her brothers.

“I’ve been here before.” He reminds them, letting his transformation fall.

“Who’s the kid?” Jason asks, going back to his breakfast when he deems Adrien not a threat. Adrien grimaces.

“So, yeah about that...um, Plagg will explain.” He says, slipping the ring onto Mari’s finger and taking the earrings. Time to get out of this mess. --- Bruce blinks as Adrien leaves as quickly as he came, no explanation. Only a ring of light. He glances at the little girl and frowns. Based on pictures he’d seen, he’d guess the girl was Marinette. But his daughter was a teenager. Which meant this little girl couldn’t be Marinette. But then who-

“Daddy!” She squeals, finally looking at him with her bright eyes. She runs up to him and raises her arms. He blinks, unsure of what she wants. She huffs. “Up.” She demands. He picks her up, eyebrows furrowed as she squeezes him tightly.

“Marinette?” He asks, still confused. A loud cackling draws his attention to the tiny floating black cat at the other end of the table. Of course.

“Pigtails is gonna freak about this later.” He says with a snort.

“And you are?” Bruce asks, wary of the creature. It was definitely not hostile, Adrien did leave it here. But he was still uncertain of its intentions.

“Plagg. The black ca kwami. Akuma back in Paris hit her and you all are her safe house. If she’s unable to fight as Ladybug, someone is supposed to bring her here. The kid or her, if she can still use a Miraculous.” Plagg explains, glancing around. “Say, you got any cheese?” He adds, and just like that, the kwami is off-supposedly to find cheese in the kitchen.

“So- how does she know you if she’s this little? She’s gotta be like, three.” Dick asks with a frown. “You just met.”

“Cause I’m Batman!” Marinette says, mimicking his voice. Jason snorts.

“Sure Pixie, and I’m Ladybug.” He says, reaching over and ruffling her hair.

“No, I am!” She pouts, crossing her arms. “You can’t be, you’re Red Hood.” She adds. Tim- who had been silently sipping coffee- spits over the entire table.

“Good job Drake. Now breakfast is ruined for everyone.” Damian sneers.

“She knows! But she’s tiny! She shouldn’t-” Tim rants.

“It’s magic, Drake.” Damian says, cutting him off. “I am unsure of what you expect. Now, since breakfast is ruined, I will be taking Titus on a walk.” He adds, standing up and starting to leave. Bruce is barely able to stop Marinette from falling as she leaps from his lap and rushes to Damian.

“Can I come?” She asks with a wide smile. Damian hesitates, glancing at him. Bruce shrugs. “Can I come, please?” Marinette adds, sticking out her lip in a pout.

“Tt. I suppose you can come with.” He says with pursed lips. Marinette squeals, grabbing Damian’s hand and tugging him along. The sound of a camera shutter makes Bruce whirl around to see- of course. Dick had his phone out and was taking picture after picture, a wide smile on his face as the two walked away, Marinette babbling on about how cool superheroes are as they walk.

“Who would’ve thought we’d be able to get pictures of baby Mari with us!” He says cheerfully, looking down at his phone. Bruce stills. He could have pictures with one of his kids, as a baby. He glances over at Tim, trying to figure out a way to ask that wouldn’t be too weird. Was the request too weird?

“Don’t worry, B. Already on it.” Tim says, shaking his phone. “Got several pictures of your little hug situation.” He adds. Bruce nods. Still…

“Everyone in the parlor in five minutes. Make sure Alfred comes too. I’ll go get Damian and Marinette.” Bruce says, standing from the table.

“For what?” Jason asks, visually bristling at the orders. Though their relationship was getting better, it was still rocky. And it likely would be for years.

“A family picture.” Bruce says simply. They’d have to take another when Marinette is herself, but he wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. --- Damian Wayne was many things. A former member of the League of Assassins. The current, (and in his unbiased opinion, best) Robin, an animal lover, a brother and a son. He also enjoyed drawing, occasionally painting too. What he was not, was a babysitter. He did not enjoy small children. They often cried for no reason, talked too much and smelled odd. His sister, luckily, did not smell odd. Nor had she cried. She was, however, babbling incoherently. And smiling. Nonstop. It was odd, but not awful. Looking down at the small girl, he was suddenly struck with the awful memory of her death. Of the sword that- no. She was fine. She may be a toddler now, but she was still fine.

“And then, Chat was a bad guy.” She says as he tunes back into her words. He frowns. That’s odd.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sure he misheard her.

“Chat! His suit turned bad and the moon went boom!” She exclaims, gesturing with her hands to mimic an explosion. Why was there no footage of this?

“That sounds like a very bad dream.” He leads, certain that it was just one of her fears. He knew Marinette struggled with anxiety and doubted herself as a hero. Surely that’s all she was referring to. She shakes her head.

“Nu-uh. Not a dream.” She denies, frowning. He starts to ask for clarification, to try and help, when she squeals and runs forward, wrapping her tiny arms around Titus. Damian sighs. It was useless to attempt to have an actual discussion with her right now anyway. Perhaps later they could revisit the topic.

“Careful, Titus.” Damian says, slightly concerned for how the large dog would react to Marinette. He had never really been around small children before, and while he was nice, some dogs just disliked children. Not that Damian blamed them. Instead of knocking her down or growling at her though, Titus nuzzles into her. Gently pushing her along as they walk around the gardens. Damian feels his lip quirk up in a smile. Pulling his phone out, he takes a quick picture, certain Marinette would like to see it later. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Father walking towards them swiftly.

“Father.” He acknowledges.

“Damian. We’re going to take some pictures together before she turns back.” Father says, glancing at Marinette who was giggling against Titus. She turns and notices the two talking, her smile growing even wider.

“Daddy!” She cheers, running forward and jumping into Father’s arms. Damian quirks an eyebrow at the uncharacteristically large smile on his father’s face. It was odd, but he also knew that his father regretted losing so much time with both him and Marinette. The others it was to be expected, but to not even have that time with his own blood children….

“Did you have fun with Damian, sweetheart?” He asks, and Damian blinks at the surprisingly soft tone. Very odd. He suddenly couldn’t wait for Marinette to turn back. He did not care for the sudden changes in his father.

“Yup! Dami showed me the flowers and the trees and Titus is so silly!” She rambles, nearly whacking Father in the face as she gestures wildly. Damian barely holds back a snort as he watches them.

“I’m so glad you had fun. Can we go inside now, there’s some things we want to do before you go back to Paris.” He explains. Marinette frowns, a pout replacing her large smile.

“I don’t wanna.” She whines, and Damian is shocked to see tears. Actual tears.

“Why don’t you want to go home?” Father asks, and the look on his face makes it obvious. He’s thrown.

“Tired.” She says, laying her head on Father’s shoulder. “Akumas are bad.” She adds.

“We’re going to help Marinette. You won’t be alone anymore. You and Chat Noir will both have help. We’ll figure this out.” Father assures her, holding her.

“Perhaps we could continue this conversation later, Father. You wanted to take pictures and there is no guarantee how long she will be...young.” Damian points out, making a mental note to also bring up the ‘Chat was bad’ scenario later.

“Er, yes. Let’s go. Come on honey, it’s okay. You’re still here.” Father says, turning and walking towards the house, quietly reassuring Marinette until she starts smiling again. While seeing his older sister younger than him was entertaining, Damian much preferred older Marinette. She had a better handle on her emotions. And though he would never admit it to her face, was also much more bearable in conversation. --- Jason was not fond of family pictures. Hell, he wasn’t fond of most things that involved family bonding. He’d been around more since they discovered Marinette, but that was mostly to make sure that Bruce didn’t fuck it up too badly. The kid was the most emotionally available one he had. She could do more than brood. And Jason was not about to let Bruce mess that up by being an asshole. So, sure, he’d been around more. But that didn’t mean he had to be in a family picture.

“I don’t wanna.” He argues, glaring at Dick who was trying to get him to come stand next to him. Dick, Alfred and Replacement were all coming up with poses will B got Demon Spawn and Pixie to come back inside. Jason wanted no part of any of it.

“Master Jason, this is a unique opportunity.” Alfred chastises. Jason rolls his eyes.

“I’ll join when he finds another kid.” He mumbles, trying not to sound too bitter. He wasn’t mad at Marinette, not at all. But being Bruce Wayne’s kid was a fucking recipe for disaster. Three of them had died (and come back). All of them were a vigilante or hero of some sort. None of them had a normal life. So as nice as it could be, being a kid of the Bruce Wayne, it was also a bit of a curse.

“Jay!” Marinette squeals, practically throwing herself from Bruce’s arms as they walk into the room. Jason lunges forward, catching her.

“Shit, Pix, you just about fell.” He swears, eyes wide as she giggles uncontrollably.

“Language.” Dick calls. Jason narrows his eyes, about to argue, when Marinette shifts in his arms. Oh yeah. She’s kind of tiny right now. Probably shouldn’t say anything too bad.

“Daddy says we’re gonna take pictures!” She says, grinning widely. Jason winces. Damnit Bruce.

“Really? Well, I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” He says, preparing to put her down so that he can dip out.

“We have to get a picture of just the kids too! Daddy says we’ll take more another day, but we gotta hurry.” She rambles, struggling in his arms to be let down. He sets her down, taken aback by how strong she is as she grabs his hand and tugs him behind the couch. Standing right next to Dick. Of fucking course.

“Pix, I don’t-” He tries to say.

“Nope. Picture time!” She cheers, running back to Bruce. Jason shakes his head. Of fucking course the Pixie was gonna get him to do some stupid shit he didn’t want to do. Of course. --- Alfred glances at the new pictures on the wall as he walks down to the kitchen. It had been a few days since Miss Marinette had left. A few days since he was able to see a genuine smile on Master Bruce’s face. The family had managed to get dozens of pictures and videos on that day, including a picture with himself, Master Bruce and the children. Glancing at the picture of just the children, all laughing and cuddled up on the couch, Alfred smiles. It was nice to have these pictures, pictures with genuine joy on his family’s face. Even if it happened because of a villain attack.

Next

Master list

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

[little-fairy-forest]

NO WAIT BECAUSE IM SO GLAD THERE ARE OTHER PPL WHO WATCH DREW AND ENYA

okay okay how about the bnha boys reacting to your video where you give your cousin/bestfriend a bowl-cut (inspired by drew phillips video)

uhhh heres the link to the video: https://youtu.be/3rRZfKCUGT8

im sorry but when i saw anon mention drew and enya, I had to do an ask like this im so sorry

🍀 hello darling! I've decided to merge all the boys together so the ask won't be so long since this has been sitting in my inbox for too long now :)

Class 1-A boy's x reader's viral cutting hair video

Class 1-A boys, fluff, gn!reader, romance

You had a youtube channel that you earned some money off of every now and again, sometimes you would just post videos uncut and they would end up being the funniest,

Due to the current pandemic, your cousins local barber shop shut down since a case broke out with the in the workers- he made a silly mistake asking you to help him out

When you mentioned once you cut a classmates hair after they got bubblegum stuck in it *ahem Kaminari*

You decided to cut your cousins hair but he let you do whatever since he was just at home working, oh what a mistake

As you filmed the video you and your cousin were crying laughing since you messed up the hair cut- which was meant to be a simple bowl cut and then dye it neon blue, but you were laughing so much you ended up doing it lopsided

Your jokes included digs at other youtubers and a few heros, but it got to the point where you had to stop because you were afraid you would mess up again

Once the disastrous video was uploaded, it was in Japan's trending list for ages since you generally were the funniest thing to happen in a while

After you raked in a few thousand more followers and were the main topic on gossip channels

you wondered what your classmates thought of the video

You didn't even have to ask- Sero decided to bring the topic to light in the common room, a few people were chilling before bed, well the boys were the girls were having a self care night in Mina's

"Did you see L/n's recent video, it went viral! Honestly I had to pause the video a few times to catch my breath" Sero mentioned as he sipped on his drink

"It was humorous to watch but I do hope they don't take that up as a side job- hairdressing that is" Iida adds as he fixes his glasses

"I dunno, they done my hair and it came out pretty cool" Kaminari says as he rests his head on his arms leaning against the back of the sofa

"Well they can keep the fuck away from my hair tch" Bakugou did not want you anywhere near his hair!

"Bakubro I know you would do anything for them to even get close to you head! Seriously you are nicknamed kat-suki by them afterall- and don't cats like head scratches??" Kirishima suggests as a slight jab at the ruby eyed blond

"Hah?! The fuck is that sappost to mean?!" Bakugou starts to get angry enough to hide his little blush dusting his cheeks

"I think what he is trying to say is that what did Midoriya say it was again oh, yeah you like them, as in you would like to date them" Todoroki said as he appears behind Bakugou

"Jesus fuck icy-hot" Bakugou jumped a small but from Todoroki appearing out of nowhere

"I'm sure we all know L/n is very popular and has lots of admirers, ite ok if you are aswell Bakugou" Todoroki teases as he watches the blond get more and more flustered

Bakugou leaves the room and Kirishima follows, Kaminari is laughing at the scene but realises something on Midoriya's phone, it was a text to you, how did he know, well 'y/n 💖👑' can only mean one person

Kaminari decided to leave the green haired boy alone, will save this information for a later

"I think it wasn't the worst haircut ever- I think I could pull off a bowl cut" Ojiro says as he thinks about what he would look like

"Nah I'd say you would look like a k-pop star" Sero imagines aswell, thinking what he also would look like with cut and dyed hair

"Dunno might ask them to try it out for practice, could be a fun side hussle, might even get a shot to be in one of their videos!" Sero suggests as he laughs at what he would look like with pink hair

"I suggest you try and keep your hero profile sensible and mature Sero!" Iida encourages as he can only imagine what chaos you would create on that boys poor head

As you sit with the girls you start to think who your next culprit, subject, lab rat uh featured friend will be for your next hair dressing video

Getting through my inbox slowly but surely!

Summer is right around the corner!

Nagivation has been updated please check it out :)

[fairestwriting]

can i request mc fucking idia in his racer car bed?

anon i... have developed an obsession with your request i must confess. This has a life of its own now. this is.. .. .mostly porn it starts of silly but its very much porn

+ if you like my writing, you can buy me a ko-fi to support me!

word count: 1147- over my usual limit but well. i got excited

(nsfw under cut)

“It’s-”

“Yeah.”

“A racer car bed.”

You close the door right behind you as soon as you switch on the lights. Idia stares around your bedroom with this sort of incredulous face, you don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind.

“I, um.” He stutters. “Didn’t think you’d have something like that.”

“Why, is it funny?” You joke, taking a step closer towards him. “Does it make you forget what we were supposed to be doing here?”

Idia’s face flushes red. “I-It’s, not, uh...”

“Come on. Sit down.” You chuckle, and nod towards the infamous racer car bed. Idia hesitates before he starts moving to sit on the bed -- And that’s when you take advantage of his nervousness, moving towards him to pounce quickly, your legs caging his in, hands on the sides of his head on the wall.

Idia squeaks, backing himself up against said wall. Cute, you think, unable to help the smirk that forms on your lips. Idia’s so damn cute -- You kiss him without even uttering a word, and he makes another surprised noise against your lips, struggling to keep up with your excitement. You feel his hands on your chest, then your shoulders, trying to pull you closer or hold onto you, whatever it was.

“So you didn’t forget.” You tease, and he averts his eyes, pulling the hood of his jacket towards his face to partially cover it up. Well, that just won’t do, but you could get that thing off him soon.

“S-Shut up, you’re so embarrassing.”

“Aw, is little Idia embarrassed?” He always complains, but he always lets you manhandle him as you want -- Hands on his waist urging him to move and lay down, so you could be on top of him. He’s so cute you feel like you’re burning, but it’s important to keep your cool now. “Why? Are you so put off by the bed you don’t want me to touch you?”

You’re just being a bastard now, but it’s worth it.

“S-Stop talking about the bed, you...!” He stutters, voice dying into a crack when you bite lightly at his neck. “Don’t bring the b-bed into this, please...”

“You look like you’re having fun, though.” It’s hard to keep laughter in, especially when this is just a little bit ridiculous, but you find that you enjoy this lack of seriousness. Idia still whines at every touch, trying to cover his face but staying so wonderfully pliant as you tug that jacket off him and put your hands up his shirt. “Should I say... maybe later I could take you for a ride?”

You’re not giving him enough time for his little snarky responses, just rubbing at his cock through his pants, pulling a surprised, high-pitched moan from him. This couldn’t take too long anyways, as much as torturing Idia for a little while was appealing.

“Nn, you’re s-so... ah, please...!” He’s barely coherent, bucking into your hand. Cute, you think, having to avoid staring, so stupidly cute.

“You’re so easy, Idia.“ You mutter, but your heart is racing now. Your hands get a life of their own, scrambling to undo Idia’s pants, eyes wandering all around, to the hiked up shirt, the hickeys, the way drool drips silently from blue lips, the rise and fall of his chest because of the erratic breathing. It’s overwhelming even when this started in a way that was so--

“S-Stop stalling, come on, please.” He begs hurriedly, you can just pull his pants down faster, feeling like you’re in a frenzy. It’s a god damn racer car bed. All of this should just be funny, but Idia’s whining and looking at you through these tear-blurred eyes, you find everything that was ridiculous about the situation simply slipping your mind.

The bottle of lube under your pillow is just a stretch of your usual reach away, though grabbing it is made vaguely harder through Idia’s incessant clinging, legs that have wrapped loosely around yours, trying to urge you to hurry. You silently promise that you will.

“You’re so cute it should be illegal.” You sigh, one part exasperated, the other horny enough to be out of your mind, and after pulling off his boxers and spreading his legs you have a slicked finger inside him. “Tell me what feels nice. And when I can do more.”

Idia whines, turning his face against the pillow to hide -- It doesn’t do much, you can see the flush on his chest, creeping down his neck. He’s so easy.

“Idia, baby. If you don’t use your words we’re gonna be here forever.” You chuckle airily, though you’re beginning to move your hand already, just slowly.

“J-Just put another in already, I-I’m--” He mewls, partially muffled on the pillow. “Please, please, I need it.”

“Right, right. Stop hiding your face, though.” Another finger goes in, Idia’s hand that had been clutching at the mattress starts clutching at your free arm instead, you get to see him all red-faced and messed up again. A gift from the gods, really.

“You’re so...ah, so mean.” He murmurs, and you chuckle before speeding up for a bit. “D-Do another, come on.”

“We’re not in that much of a hurry.”

“I am!” He squeaks, you’re silenced for a bit. “P-Please, I need it... need you, inside me, now.”

You swallow. Idia’s rarely demanding -- Something about him doing something like that, it’s just...and because he was now, you can barely bring yourself to think, just leaning down to kiss him, teeth nipping at his lips and entire body brimming with the need that coursed through your veins, you put another finger in and move as well as you can, just the way you know he likes it while you kissed him. You could feel your heart almost stopping when you feel him moan loudly into your mouth, squeezing around your fingers. Fuck.

“T-There, please, come on...”

Listening to his rants is easier than not doing it -- Idia clutches at the front of your shirt, eyes shut as helpless moaning spills from him, growing in pitch and volume, you’re gonna wake up the entire dorm, who cares, and you keep pressing on the right spot.

You know he’s close -- And that you’re not supposed to just let him come now, but temptation is a real thing, and Idia is irresistible like this. You wrap a hand around his cock to stroke him, getting almost a shriek from him before you kiss him messily again, and he spills all over your hand, unraveling with a cry that’s drowned on your tongue.

You pull away, breathless. Idia stares at you drowsily. Red faced, sweaty, breathless too.

“Good?” You ask, unable to think of any other words.

He nods. There’s silence as you ponder licking your hand clean--

“S-So... um.” Idia begins, voice almost brittle. “About that ride...”

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: While on a walk to clear his head, Alex is attacked by Caleb as a warning to him and his friends. Shaken, he refuses to tell the band what happened, but he does tell Willie who is furious and protective. Fluffy ending. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

Oooh, this was a really good request! All the details were really helpful too, so thank you for that. I really enjoyed writing it, especially the fluff at the end. I really hope this is the sort of thing you were after. Thank you for requesting it, I hope you like it!

TW: injury, blood.

Tripwire

It was safe to say that since Alex and the boys had left the dark room there had been a lot to process. Being dead, for a start. Adjusting to being a ghost had been a whole other ordeal too. Meeting Julie, forming the band, everything that had gone down with Caleb. Willie. Throughout those few months it had been non-stop, one thing after another, and Alex hadn’t had any time to slow down or take a break, not one single moment to really think about what was going on.

Now, somehow, all the difficult stuff was over and done with. Nobody had seen Caleb in weeks, Alex had managed to free Willie from the stamp, and the band had five more gigs lined up, plus a record deal on the horizon. While things were still definitely busy, it wasn’t so constant anymore. Alex finally had the time to just take a breather – or whatever the ghost version of a breather was, seeing as he couldn’t actually breathe. He had settled on his tried and tested method of going for a walk to clear his head to take the time to wrap his mind around it all.

The freedom of teleportation was nice, but it was definitely one of Alex’s least favourite ghost abilities. He couldn’t help but worry he’d somehow end up in the wrong place every time he did it, or that he’d poof out and never reappear anywhere else. It didn’t have the safety of walking through walls or being heard and seen when the band played together. And it might have been freeing, but it wasn’t nearly as freeing as just walking. Walking was slow and repetitive and methodical, rhythmic in a way that was relaxing. When Alex walked he didn’t have to think about where he was going – he could just let his feet take him there while his mind wandered elsewhere.

So that’s what he did. As he walked through the streets of Hollywood, Alex let his mind wander. He thought about everything that had happened since they came back, everything that might have happened in the twenty-five years before that, and everything that could happen in the future. Alex didn’t often think about the future; he didn’t like dwelling on things that were out of his control and the future was certainly that. But as he thought about it then, it didn’t seem quite so daunting – after all, nothing bad had happened in weeks.

As he was nearing the Orpheum, Alex suddenly felt as if something was wrong. It was an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach, a bad feeling that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Dread, maybe. Or perhaps just the intuitive feeling that something was coming and it couldn’t be anything good.

Ahead of him, no more than ten feet away, a mist was gathering, a light lilac cloud spinning faster and faster until it was so thick that Alex couldn’t see through it, growing taller and taller, wider and wider. The cloud spun so fast that Alex could feel wind rush past him from the movement of it, but it was gone as soon as it had come. The cloud dissipated with a soft whoosh, leaving behind a few sparkles drifting on the breeze it had created, and stood where the cloud had been was Caleb Covington.

While he wasn’t happy to see Caleb again after so long, Alex was glad to see he hadn’t lost his flair for the dramatic.

He knew he wouldn’t have time to get away, but he still considered it. Maybe if he ran instead of walking he could get away. He considered poofing out, but his mind had gone completely blank of places to poof to – all he could think of when looking at Caleb was the Hollywood Ghost Club, and going there was nothing short of the worst idea he could ever have had. So he stayed put, staring Caleb down, trying to stop the shaking of his hands and the hammering of his non-existent heart.

“Hello, Alex,” Caleb drawled. His hands were folded atop his cane and he wore a purple suit so dark it almost looked black, his cape wafting ever so slightly in the breeze, his top hat perched neatly on his head. Childishly, Alex wondered if he had the courage to walk up to him and knock the hat off his head. “Long time no see.”

“What do you want?” Alex demanded, trying to sound as if he wasn’t desperate to run away. He was aware that Caleb probably knew just how scared he really was, but if he didn’t show his nerves then he might have been able to convince himself that he wasn’t really frightened.

Caleb tutted. “Come now, is that really how you greet an old friend? I might have expected it from Luke but certainly not from you, Alex. I’m only here to see how you’re getting on without me!”

It felt like a trap, but Alex didn’t know what tripwire he was supposed to avoid.

“We’re doing fine,” he said firmly. “We don’t need you.”

“So you keep telling me,” Caleb replied. He flexed his hands, still grasping his cane. “Tell me, Alex – how did you and your little buddies manage to free yourselves from my stamp, hm?”

“Why should I tell you that?” Alex spat. It was a braver way of saying ‘we have no idea’.

“Oh, I don’t think you should,” Caleb admitted. “If you told me how you did it there would be dire consequences for you and your friends, but it would be extremely helpful to me. If you want to keep this newfound freedom with your silly little band, you shouldn’t tell me how you got the stamp off.”

“Then I’m not telling you,” Alex said.

“But,” Caleb continued, a malicious twinkle in his eyes, “if you want to walk away from this little chat unharmed then I suggest you tell me everything.”

Up until then, Alex thought he had been doing a very good job at standing his ground, maybe even looking a little intimidating. But the threat broke him. He felt himself freeze, his mind halt, and suddenly he was far weaker than the man in front of him.

“Unharmed?” he repeated. “What do you mean ‘unharmed’?”

Caleb cocked his head to the side like he didn’t understand the question. “Isn’t it obvious?” When Alex didn’t say anything, Caleb chuckled darkly. It sent shivers down Alex’s spine and made his stomach twist sickeningly. “Alex, if you refuse to tell me exactly how you got my stamp off, I am going to hurt you. And let me tell you, you’d be surprised just how much you can make someone hurt even after they’re dead and gone.”

Alex’s mind was spinning. There was no good option here, no way out. Caleb had trapped him in yet another impossible situation. He cursed himself for not poofing out while he had the chance.

But it didn’t matter how scared he was now, he would not let his friends suffer just to stave off his own pain. He had to take one for the team, even if he was dreading it. The smirk on Caleb’s face said that he knew he had won this round no matter what, smug and self-satisfied. Alex wanted to slap the smile right off his face, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of a fight.

He steeled himself, set his jaw, tried to look like as much of a threat as he could. “I’m not telling you anything. Nothing you do can make me talk. Do your worst.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused, but he nodded. “Alright then. You’ve made your decision. I can’t say I’m surprised – you’re not as weak-willed as you look. But you’re still weak. I can still hurt you.”

He tucked his cane under his arm and stalked towards Alex. Too late, Alex wondered if he could have taken that brief opportunity to run away, but he would never know because Caleb grabbed his wrist. It was just like how he’d put the stamp on, a quick touch and a slight sting. When he let go, Alex looked at where his hand had been – there was a blood red mark there, swirling on his skin. Its shape constantly changed, but Alex was sure he picked out a blade before it twisted and morphed into something else.

“What is it?” he asked Caleb.

“You’ll soon see,” he replied, already walking away. He threw the words over his shoulder as he left Alex alone. “Consider this a warning to you and your friends. Willie, too. It isn’t over. There is plenty more I can do to make you suffer. It’s up to you to decide whether you’re willing to put yourselves through all of this just to stay away from me. I’ll see you soon, Alex.”

And he was gone.

For a moment, Alex was confused. This stamp, whatever it was, didn’t seem to be doing anything. It was just moving about on his skin, as fluid as water, like a cool tattoo. He wondered – hoped – if Caleb’s spell hadn’t worked.

But then it hit him. It felt as if he’d been struck by lightning and hit by a bus at the exact same time, unimaginable pain slamming into him and knocking him right off his feet. It was infinitely worse than the pain of the jolts Caleb had inflicted on them before which should have been impossible because those felt like death. And yet there he was, lying on the ground, winded and light-headed, pain surging through his body, unable to move.

Another one. This time it felt like he’d been kicked in the temple and had his face stamped on. He was sure his nose was broken even though that probably shouldn’t have been possible. He lifted a weak, shaking hand to his face and touched his upper lip – when his hand came away, his fingertips were drenched in blood. Alex had been sure that ghosts didn’t have blood, so he wondered whether he’d been wrong or if this was some sort of sick illusion Caleb had created. He decided it didn’t matter, not when he was vulnerable and hurting, in agony worse than dying.

Again, like being stabbed in the gut.

Again, like he’d broken his legs.

Again, like a knife twisted in his back.

It went on and on, attack after attack, pain after searing pain. It hurt too much for him to even scream for help, not that it would have done any good. All around him, lifers walked by without a care in the world, not knowing that he was right there, a snivelling wreck, bloodied and bruised. He curled in on himself and waited for it all to be over.

Eventually, it finished. The last jolt came like a punch to the jaw and when nothing else happened for fifteen minutes, Alex began to come to his senses. He opened his eyes and eased himself up into a sitting position. Even that hurt like hell. He studied his body – his legs, even though they felt like they had been snapped in half, seemed fine; there were a few bruises on his arms, but nothing major; every aching joint was killing him and his head was pounding; again, he touched his upper lip and felt blood crusted there, but none of it was fresh enough to be wet.

He could only imagine how pathetic he looked.

How was he going to explain all this to his friends?

Never mind an explanation – he needed to warn them.

Slowly, he picked himself up off the ground. He regretted it immediately as his head started swimming, he swayed on his feet, almost slumping right back down to the ground. He wouldn’t let himself be beaten by this, he wouldn’t show anymore weakness. His vision blurred (by pain or unshed tears, it was impossible to tell), he focused as much as he could on the studio and forced himself to poof back there.

The feeling of teleportation was uncomfortable at the best of times, but in such a state Alex couldn’t have imagined anything worse. He landed in the studio, his feet hitting the floor with such force that it sent shockwaves up his spine, nothing compared to what he’d just been through but still unbelievably painful. Distantly, he could hear his friends stop talking, muffled and indistinct voices crowding all around him, their faces swimming in front of his eyes.

“Alex,” came a voice. Maybe Julie’s, maybe Luke’s, maybe Reggie’s, maybe none of them. “Alex, buddy, you alright? Come on, speak to us, Alex. What happened? Alex? Alex?”

There was little strength in his arms, but he used it to push them all away and staggered his way to the couch. He collapsed onto it, suddenly feeling weak, somehow more vulnerable than he’d felt lying on the ground as Caleb’s stamp beat him bloody. He checked his wrist now – the stamp was gone.

He came back to himself a little at that; if the stamp was gone, he couldn’t be hurt anymore. He was alright now, he was with his friends, Caleb was nowhere to be seen. But knowing that didn’t stop the tears pooled in his eyes from sliding down his cheeks or his hands from shaking so intensely they might fall off his body. Someone – no, not just someone, it was Julie – crouched down in front of him and gently laid a hand on his knee.

He jerked away from the touch like it burned him.

“Alex,” came Julie’s soft voice. “Alex, please look at me. What happened?”

All he could do in response was shake his head and curl in on himself, body heaving with every sob he was too weak to suppress.

“Alex,” Reggie tried. Alex felt the couch cushions depress next to him as Reggie sat beside him. “It’s alright, man. You’re safe here with us.”

“You’re not alone, Alex,” came Luke’s voice. “Just tell us what happened. Who did this to you?”

But still Alex could only shake his head.

No one said anything for a while. The only sound in the studio was Alex’s laboured breathing and ragged sobs. He’d never felt so pathetic in all his life and death – he could make it through torture without crying like this, and yet just being around his friends after the fact was enough to set him off. He felt useless, he hadn’t even tried to stop Caleb in any way. He’d let this happen, he was the reason he was hurt. This was all his fault.

After a while, he heard the sound of one of the boys poofing out, presumably Luke because Alex could still feel Reggie sat beside him. Only a minute or so later, there was the sound of someone poofing back in, but Luke wasn’t alone now.

“Alex?”

His haggard breathing stopped altogether as Alex opened his eyes to see Willie in front of him, crouched down where Julie had been before. There was a soft smile on their face, reassuring, but Alex wasn’t blind to the tears in their eyes. Alex timidly reached out a hand to him and Willie interlocked their fingers.

“I’m here,” Willie said, his voice wavering. “I’m here for you, hotdog.”

At that, fresh tears began streaming down Alex’s face. He pulled Willie to him, wrapping him in a fierce embrace, holding them so tight that it made his new injuries sear with pain, but he never wanted to let go. The pain was worth every bit of comfort that simply holding Willie provided, every moment, every second, everything.

“We’ll give you guys a minute,” Julie said quietly.

“What?” Luke protested. “No way, I want to find out who hurt Alex and I want to hurt them.”

“Luke,” Julie said, gentle but firm. “That’ll come later. I’m sure we’ll find out everything, but right now we shouldn’t surround him.”

Alex, still holding Willie like his afterlife depended on it, heard the three of them reluctantly leave him and Willie behind. He was grateful for the most part, but a little bit of him still wanted them there. It would have been harder to tell them all what had happened at once, but he would have preferred not to repeat the story.

Willie just held him. They didn’t press for him to talk, didn’t let go before Alex was ready, he just held him in his arms and occasionally whispered, “I love you. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Alex couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have someone like Willie care for him.

Eventually, he pulled away. It hurt to see Willie’s face streaked with tears, especially knowing it was because of him. Alex softly tucked a lock of hair behind their ear.

“I was out for a walk,” he rasped, his voice strained from crying. “Clearing my head. Like the day we first met. Same place and everything. Then there was this weird cloud and Caleb appeared. He said if I didn’t tell him how we got the stamps off then he’d hurt me.”

“Oh, Alex,” Willie breathed. Alex could see their heart breaking.

“I wouldn’t tell him. It’s not like we know anyway. So he… he put this other stamp on me – it was like, red and swirly and it looked like…”

“Death,” Willie finished for him. Alex nodded, looking at the ground, trying to still his breathing again. “It looked like death.”

“It felt like it too,” Alex said dryly. “Or worse.” He choked on his words, remembered it all, broke again.

He fell limply to the side, but Willie caught him, pulled him into a hug as he cried. There were images racing through his mind, one after the other – Caleb’s mirthless laughter and sly smirk, the stamp dripping across his skin, himself lying on the ground covered in his own blood. He still hadn’t figured out if that blood had been real or an illusion, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore because right that moment he felt as if he couldn’t breathe and his legs were numb and the walls were closing in and he was losing his grip on reality and losing his grip on Willie and–

“Come back, Alex,” Willie said, his voice cutting through Alex’s hopeless thoughts. “You’re not there anymore. It’s over. You survived. You are in Julie’s garage, I’m holding you, nothing can get to you. Come back, Alex.”

Slowly, Alex dragged himself down from his thoughts. He focused on the feeling on his hands clutching Willie’s hoodie, the tickle of Willie’s hair against his cheek, the warmth of Willie’s hands on his back. He focused on Willie and it brought him back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t apologise,” Willie told him, sounding almost outraged. He watched as Willie took a moment to collect himself, and when they spoke again their voice was much calmer. “You have nothing to apologise for. None of this was your fault. Please tell me you know that.”

Alex couldn’t have truthfully said so, and he wouldn’t lie to Willie. Bottom lip trembling as he held back yet more tears, he remained silent.

“Alex, this wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known Caleb was going to attack you. You couldn’t have predicted any of this. And it could have happened to any one of us. We all would have done the same thing. You made it through, Alex. This wasn’t your fault and you’re not weak for getting hurt.”

After a moment’s pause, Alex weakly repeated back to them, “This wasn’t my fault.”

Willie pressed a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. “Good. Please remember that. You don’t need to feel guilty about this, alright?”

All he did was nod, closing his eyes and resting his head on Willie’s chest.

“I can explain the stamp if you want,” Willie said, carding his fingers through Alex’s hair. “It has some fancy Latin name that I can’t remember. When Caleb uses it on someone, it takes the most pain they’ve ever been in, and it multiplies it by a thousand. It’s a good thing he can’t use it on lifers because if he did it would kill them with the first jolt.”

“I’m not surprised,” Alex deadpanned.

“The first time he used it on me I thought he was trying to kill me. Again. Or force me to cross over somehow.”

At that, Alex sat up and stared at Willie, wide-eyed. “The first time?”

Gently, Willie pulled Alex back to his lap and laid him down again. “He would use it on me if ever I stepped really out of line. The last time was the day you guys performed at the Orpheum. But I’m free now, so as long as we avoid Caleb it’ll never happen again. If we all avoid him – me, you, Luke, Reggie – then none of us have to get hurt.”

“I don’t think we can avoid whatever he’s got planned,” Alex mumbled.

“Maybe not,” Willie admitted. “But let’s not think about that now. Right, hotdog? I mean, you made it out today. Let’s focus on that. Is there anything you want to do?”

Alex thought for a moment but all he came up with was: “I just want to sleep. And I want you to hold me.”

He could hear Willie’s smile in their voice. “Of course. Whatever you want, Alex.”

Alex felt his eyes drifting closed, sleep catching up with him all at once, the exhaustion being a by-product of the agony. He didn’t mean to say it, but he heard his tired voice breathe, “I love you.”

And just before he fell asleep, he heard Willie whisper back, “I love you too, Alex. Sleep well.”

[fenheart87]

Lukanette prompts #26 (but Luka says it...)

There was always a feeling of calm when he came home, almost nothing was better than touching down in the Paris airport and feeling the stress from touring fall off with every step from the airplane. It had been longer than Luka had liked to be away from his family and really this time he was early, not that he had told his family just yet. Luckily, Penny was the best and booked him a room where he was able to crash for the night and had options for food places nearby as he was sick of hotel room service.

“If you’re fighting with Ma again, I don't want to hear about it.” He answered the phone, knowing it was his sister on the other line.

“No, just talking about your baby pictures.”

“Oh great, you’re being sappy? Do I want to come home in that case?” Luka teased, not meaning a word of it.

“Blame your nephew, he started it.” He choked on air as he heard shuffling before Rose’s voice came through, indicating she had taken over the phone.

“Luka! We got approved for a baby boy! Captain has been a little weepy but like a good weepy because he has the most adorable face and dark hair but with a slight curl and his eyes gosh! They are like the ocean! He really likes your baby pictures, ah I can't wait for you to meet him!” Rose squealed in excitement, risking Luka’s much needed eardrum.

“Wait, wait, how did you get a whole baby?!” the older exclaimed, putting the phone on speaker in an attempt to save his ears.

“Well, two mommies loved each other very much and decided they wanted to share their love with a very special little baby. The two mommies went to meet the baby but on their way they met another precious child and they knew right away that the little boy with hair as dark a night and eyes like the ocean was destined to become part of their family. And after some time of play dates and special trips around the city, the mommies got to take their new son home.” There was some shuffling as Rose was sniffling and his sister murmuring words of comfort to her.

“I wow, congratulations… Another Couffaine huh?”

“Not quite, we still need to finalize some papers and such. We’re meeting up at Marinette’s parent’s bakery, he loves it there. This will be his first overnight stay so we’re excited but nervous because we want him to feel comfortable.”

“I don't think you have to worry, you both have a lot of love to give and worst case, Uncle Luka can come to the rescue.”

“If you were here yeah, rescue us or him depending. Maybe next time.”

“See you can be sappy! I’ve got to get going but do keep me posted, I’ll read my message even if I don’t respond right away.”

“Sure, stay safe and away from crazy fans.”

“Jules, you know we have a dye party set for when I get back. I’ll be fine.”

"Whatever loser."

So change of plans, Luka would get to see his favorite designing baker sooner rather than later which was fine by him. First he needed to wash off the plane smell and find his plain black hoodie, then he would surprise his girls. Plan in mind, Luka grabbed his shaving kit and started the shower. Shucking off his clothes and tossing them into the bag of dirty laundry he would need to do soon, the guitarist Stepped into the Shower to rinse off with Some body wash. Deciding his hair wasn't in need of a washing, Luka quickly got out and toweled off. 

Luka watched as Marinette played with Llewellyn. The boy looked so happy to be running around the bakery and picking up speed now that he had some sweets to perk him up. It was kind of eerie to look at said child because Llewellyn was similar in looks to a younger Luka, it was definitely that fate had played a huge hand in guiding the boy to his family. The smiles on his sister's faces were definitely worth it and seeing him he hoped would bring an even bigger smile to them. 

"Do you want to color a picture or have more cookies?" Marinette kneeled down to the little boy's height and smiled gently, hoping to ease the sudden anxiety he seemed to be feeling. It really pulled at the guitarist's heartstrings and his body moved to do what needed done before his brain had caught up with it. A soft tune slipped gently from the strings, sneaking by everyone as it blended in the background and caused little shoulders that were scrunched up to slowly relax and fall at ease. Two pairs of blue eyes sought his person but he pretended to not notice as he twined together the gentle melody with the heart songs of those sitting at the table sipping their drinks.

"Luka! You big meanie head!" Rose squealed and carefully tackled her brother in law from behind.

"Hey watch it now, Claire doesn't like the rough treatment."

"Oh hush you! Sneaky little meanie head." The petite blond hugged him even tighter.

"Well since you're here, can I get you anything to eat or drink?" The designer rose from her crouch and turned to the counter, slipping through the gap of the raised counter.

"Ah something warm please and maybe a macaroon or two."

"You got it!" Marinette spun around and reached to grab a mug from the shelf, her shirt sliding to reveal a hint of green and black on her pale skin.

"I uh hey Ma-ma-Marinette uh is that- its okay if I just have a plain cup! I just uh okay please don't punch me too hard but is that a tattoo?! " He could feel his cool factor dying at that moment.

Marinette dropped from her tiptoes to standing normally once more and Luka found he could breathe again as the tattoo went out of sight again. She had always been able to give him a heart attack and the guitarist could already hear the ribbing from his ever lovable sister.

"Oh! Yeah, it was a gift from Nona. You know Nathaniel and Marc’s comic? It’s inspired by Viperion." The petite woman brought over some macaroons and his designated cup with Sabine's special blend. It was like a piece of home and Luka took a large gulp in excitement, "I tend to forget unless I'm in a swimsuit or in the shower."

"Oh Luka!" Rose cried, swatting at Juleka who was laughing and grabbed some napkins to help clean up the tea that her brother had spit everywhere.

"Hey who are you?" The small voice drew the adults attention.

"Well I am called many names but to you, I am Uncle Luka. Juleka is my sister."

“Cap’tin says I look like a little you.”

“Yeah a little bit but just means you were meant to meet us, maybe even be a part of our family if that’s okay with you?” Lka smiled softly, watching the little blue eyes grow wide and a bit sparkly from tears. “What’s your favorite song?” 

“Smoke on the water.”

“Oh good choice! And what’s your name?” Luka started strumming the requested song, twisting the notes and improvising some notes as he watched the kid.

“Llewellyn, I’m this many!” The small boy held up six fingers with a big smile.

“That’s a big number.”

“Not as big as your number though… Why is your hair blue? Can I have green hair? Can I play guitar? How do you play it? Is it heavy? Can you sing too? Are you a rockstar? When I’m big, can I be like you?” The young boy fired off, slightly catching Luka off guard and causing the women to laugh.

“Slow down speed racer, deep breath,” the guitarist inhaled slowly and evenly with Llewellyn and released the breath in the same manner before answering, “now isn't that better? Blue is my favorite color, maybe we can have matching green hair for your party. Playing guitar can be tricky but if you want I can show you how, it can be heavy if you hold it too long but then you build up some muscles and it’s not so bad. I can sing but not as good as your Momma Rose. I’m not a big rockstar but when I grow up more I hope to be. And I’d like that but I doubt Momma Jules would like that too much, I drive her crazy.”

“Are you mean to her?” The small boy frowned, scooting back a few steps warily.

“Nope, just silly and it drives your Ma crazy because it happens a lot.” Luka’s honesty and resuming the plucking of his guitar strings to ease the sudden tension. Sharing a fond look with Juleka that they would later deny, the elder male lifted his guitar and removed the strap completely before sliding to the floor. Waving over the young look-alike, he helped to position the guitar and demonstrated how to strum and play different chords before letting the child noodle on the guitar. Luka picked himself up and finished his slightly cold tea before returning the mug to Marinette.

“He’s so happy Luka! Just look at him!” Rose was sniffling and wiping away tears, the reality that Llewellyn was part of their family finally settling in.

“Yeah he fits right in. So now that you found a mini me, with your attitude and shares a whole name with me, are you going to deny that’s why you picked him?”

“Nothing to deny.” Juleka wiped away a few stray tears from her wife’s face and laced their fingers together. “It was meant to be.”

“Calling dad out here Jules.” Luka quirked a brow, ignoring the snort his words caused.

“Calling B.S. huh? Fine, that’s about ninety percent, the other ten is he looks like he could be your kid if a certain designer were the mom.”

His ears were full of cotton and he missed the squeak of surprise because of course, this was Juleka he was talking about, Marinette was coming up behind him and he froze. The slight curl to Llewellyn’s hair was similar to his if he had it shorter, the blue eyes were lighter than his but the shape reminded him of Marinette’s. And judging by the sly look in his sister’s amber eyes and the giggles from his sister-in-law, they had planned this to drop that bomb at some point. That’s what he gets for having a nosy family.

“Unca Luka! My fingers hurt, how do you play for hours ?” Luka turned around as his nephew, that would take some getting used to, groaned.

“Practice and patience.”

“Sounds like good advice for other things.”

“Practice and patience, two very very useful things when it comes to many things.” Luka tried to smile reassuringly at Marinette who was turning an even deeper shade of red and made his way back to Llewellyn, intent on ignoring his scheming sisters and spending the little bit of time left for the day bonding.

[ectonurites]

My least favorite type of fic!Tim is when he’s portrayed as depressed/very mentally and emotionally unstable, but also at the same time as someone who is like lauded as being super dangerous/the most skilled or something like that?? Those fics where Tim is chugging caffeine and barely sleeping, but characters are still like “oh I wouldn’t wanna piss off Tim he is Dangerous” and that’s annoying enough but then there are fics that at the same time as that portray him as like on the edge of a breakdown. It’s very irritating even if I’m not sure I can articulate exactly why, it just really rubs me the wrong way. Like, I definitely do think Tim has some issues with depression and stuff, but in fics like those it’s treated more like a quirk sort of instead of a serious issue

LMAOO I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT i’m not a fan of that either. I’m apologizing in advance if I sound mean in any of this critique i’m about to give of that fanon version of him. I want to preface this by saying that people can write whatever the hell they want, like, they’re allowed to! And I’m not referencing/calling out any specific works here. Just trends. But I’m gonna bitch about some things I’ve noticed that annoy me, personally. (so again, not saying other people can’t enjoy this stuff! just. not for me)

so like sorry if im mean but this is just me ranting and also this is my blog anyways so:

(nobody take this as an attack on them please because it’s really not)

The problem is a lot of those fics seem to interpret Tim’s behavior in Red Robin (& especially like that last whole arc of his Robin run also by FabNic) as if that’s his normal, rather than the result of a few years of CONSTANT traumatic incidents pushing him to a breaking point (because while all the shit he went through with his Dad, Steph, Kon, Bart, and then Bruce dying was spread out over several years for us as readers, it’s regarded as like within two years in canon! It all happens when he’s 16 and 17. According to the Batman comic right after War Games, Jack was murdered only days after Steph died.

(Batman #634)

That’s a LOT to process for one kid jesus christ) 

I love Red Robin honestly, I do, but it is about Tim at the lowest points in his life. It’s the grand finale of Tim’s story, and everything crumbles, that’s kinda the point! The end leaves him in a position to either rebuild himself or fall apart. It’s all about how he chooses to continue after this point!

(Red Robin #26)

The way he acts and the things he does in that comic should be regarded as such. He can’t live the way he does in Red Robin forever or he will literally burn himself out/become something unrecognizable, like, jesus it’s kinda even acknowledged in the comic when he thinks about what his potential futures would be if he keeps it up like he’s doing:

(Red Robin #25)

He sees himself as dead, as Batman (which he has countless times said he doesn’t want to be and at this point in his history almost every time he’s seen a future he became Batman in he had become a killer), or needing to retire and taking over an Oracle-esque role, likely because he exerted himself too much to continue. 

When you look at him around this same timeframe when he’s not isolating himself/too deep into the mission and is instead working with his friends back on the Titans, you can see that he is starting to heal and work in a more positive direction. He’s choosing to work on coming out of this rough period by being together with his friends who he loves.

(Teen Titans (2003) #100)

Not to say that you can’t write about situations in which he doesn’t start to come out of it, but if you are doing so it’s something you should be taking seriously because that’s the idea you want to explore, not just acting like it’s perfectly okay or normal? (And again, there are a lot of works that do explore it in good ways, there’s just also a LOT that don’t)

Like, so much content I see just make any sadness and depression and tendency to over-work himself that’s rooted in his traumas (which! those do have a basis in canon!) into a quirky personality trait rather than a response to trauma. Acting as if he’s always been this way and it’s normal for him. That’s what bothers me. If people want to seriously explore the effects of all these incidents and how that plays into his ability to do his job as a hero, then hell yes do it! But when it all gets brushed off as ‘oh thats just tim, he just doesnt eat or sleep or feel any happiness but like its fine he’s just always been like that’ I feel my blood boil. 

This also often strikes me as related/tied to fanon’s seemingly never-ending quest to make Tim into this victim of so many things he really wasn’t. They make his childhood 10x worse than it actually was (yes he was lonely because he was sent to boarding schools rather than having his parents around, but he was NOT just left home alone all the time as a child. 

(Batman #441)

He snuck away during a school vacation week to follow Bruce one (1) time and to then track down Dick. This is established in his introduction story! PLEASE read Lonely Place of Dying!) and it just... going with those fanon assumptions as being true changes so much of how people characterize him! 

Some people will also (not to call out tim/kon shippers especially because I  literally am also one but) vilify the shit out of Steph and make their relationship out to be some abusive thing rather than just... a messy teen relationship between vigilantes because they had really complicated lives and baggage with one another? Which they both acknowledge they made mistakes in!

(Red Robin #10)

Or people will vilify the shit out of Dick in regards to the situation at the start of Red Robin, or literally just make anyone who Tim ever had a disagreement with out to be the bad guy despite the actual situations always being way more complex and multi-faceted than that.

And then on top of all that, aside from making him into this ‘im broken 24/7 and not doing anything to fix it also everyone around me is terrible to me’ type of character, because he’s a lot of people’s favorite, they also want him to be as cool and strong as he is at his high points. So they’re projecting all this stuff onto him that makes him what should be a barely functioning person but then also act like that’s fine and he’s able to be a dangerous badass on top of it. 

Like I’m sorry but someone who is going out and actively acting as a vigilante like that which is incredibly physically taxing is NOT surviving on coffee alone and no sleep. That’s literally not possible, he’d fucking collapse. (And like, again, if you want to explore him pushing himself to that point, that’s one thing! but acting like he can manage all of that for more than a few days at a time/maybe while working on one really tough case is nuts!) and like, even canon can be a little guilty of this type of thing particularly since the New 52 (Detective Comics 2016 had more than a few references to him barely sleeping, but at least they also made references to him eating normally/healthily and he wasn’t completely self isolating or anything) (and also that comic had him be so self sacrificial he was ready to die to save everyone and only didn’t die because of Mr.Oz’s interference, he’s definitely not in his best place there) but usually it’s still within some realm of possibility.

Also like. The fanon ‘chugging coffee to survive thing’ just annoys the shit out of me because, like, yes there’s a few moments in canon where he’s under a lot of pressure and pushing himself further than he normally would and had some coffee (one of the only times I can even remember him having it on panel is... oh... during that last Robin arc I just mentioned a little while ago shouldn’t be where you source your normal characterization of him because it’s a very difficult situation that pushes him further than he normally would go! huh!) But the thing is like, people play it off for laughs, or like it’s a normal thing he would do at any time in his life! If you want to explore him pushing himself and using coffee as a crutch, like, there’s ways you can write it that takes it seriously, but almost every time I see it come up in fics it is like a core part of his personality and just ‘oh haha silly tim always with his entire pot of coffee he must chug every morning or he’ll die :^)’ And that bothers the hell out of me. 

In general it’s just... people treat Tim so weird. They want him to be so many different things that he’s shown himself to be at different times for very specific reasons, except they want him to do all of it at the same time which just doesn’t work. A person can’t function like that, and it’s not even close to who he is in canon. 

Again, people can do what they want, and this is just my opinion obviously, but yeah. My two cents on the matter.  Read Lonely Place of Dying, read Young Justice, read his Robin run. Read his comics and get a feel for who he was before all the rest of his trauma, and see how he canonically reacts to it along the way. I know reading comics can be tough for some people but so much stuff just echo chambers and becomes barely recognizable in this fandom and it’s just... a shame when it happens with a character ya love. 

[cybernaght]

Lost Tomb Reboot aka Reunion: The Sound of Providence Season 2

I swear I wasn’t actually planning to write this thing, instead just opting for random picture spams of the season, starting with every time this show got Zhu Yilong’s Wu Xie wet, because that was a trend I had not expected and kind of lived for.

All that will still happen eventually, but here’s also my five cents on the season, because it is very very important for you to know just how worthy of love it is. 

You see, Season 1 was silly and fun, and definitely, undeniably, enjoyable. 

Then Season 2 swooped in, and completely won my heart. I cannot even express how much I adored it. Everything about this show is extremely extra in the best possible way; it is likely to have been the most charmingly over the top thing I have ever seen.

(Vague spoilers for : specific monsters, narratively significant moments, fate of the certain characters, including the protagonist.)

Some of it comes from the pace, which speeds up dramatically early in the season, and only slows down marginally to allow characters some breathing room. It’s not just gripping because it makes you want to hit play on the next episode, it also keeps you engaged because you can’t wait to see how the next wild set of events may be resolved and then topped. At about episode ten I was questioning how they could possibly produce a sense of further escalation. At episode twenty, I was wondering if anything can top dramatic impact of whatever was occurring only two thirds of the way through the season. 

I need not have worried: every single incredible character moment, every mind-boggling turn of the plot, every single bizarre threat would be blown out of water by the next one. 

Partly, this seemingly has to do with the writers attempts to ground the material. I am not sure what the novel contained, but I can discern that it was something along the lines of ghosts, ghouls and various supernatural circumstance. But when you are told  “this is a curse”, your reaction is naturally to go, “ah okay, so curses are a thing, and this is one of them, gotcha”. When you are told, “this is a heavy metal poisoning combined with a neurotoxin affecting the victim’s central nervous system and making them violently hallucinate”, your reaction is to question whether this is how metals, toxins, poisons, or, indeed, central nervous systems work in any version of reality. 

The show does this a lot. From human shaped swarms of killer moths, to flying brain-penetrating eels, to probably my favourite monster of the moment: the murder clams.

Seriously, I cannot stress enough that this show has murder clams. They move with their clam mussels. They jump with their clam shells. They will murder you in cold blood. 

There are ancient “laser corridor” style set-ups, there are shapes made out of fog recording its memory, there are group hallucinations generated by the sound of thunder, there are Mission Impossible style full face masks. There is a character who walked off a gun wound and sarin gas poisoning in order to die in the arms of his lover who looks like his dead sister. And by “looks like” I mean, “played by the same actress”. 

There is a whole character of Doctor Churros, who saves our hero from imminent death by washing his lungs with oil. 

This, I suppose, ultimately, is how The Lost Tomb Reboot (Season 2 in particular) lures you in. It turns what I saw as the show’s fault in season 1 into its biggest strength by establishing the world in which nothing is too outlandish and everything is possible. It so thoroughly breaks your expectations barometer, you grow to willingly accept whatever is thrown at you. 

The most beautiful thing about all of it, is that the fun and games and moments of barely controlled hysteria do not lower the stakes whatsoever. Moreover, somehow this show makes me believe that it could just about do something as irrevocable as, perhaps, killing off the protagonist 

You know how you can watch, say, a super hero film, and then the “all is lost” moment happens, and you kind of have to struggle to care because you know that they will pull through. It’s curious to see how that happens, but you don’t doubt for even second that it will. Well, when that moment arrived here, I found myself between ugly sobbing, and going into speculation overdrive to try and figure out how the Reboot would deal with that. By then I have seen that show be an high octave action movie, a supernatural mystery, a horror thriller, a buddy comedy and a spy flick: it was not a massive stretch to imagine it turning into a revenge tragedy.

Wu Xie dying had been building up since episode one, so you had hours and hours and oh-so-many hours to brace for it, and when the tragedy does not strike, the relief is visceral. 

Despite all the moments of hilarity (whether intended or otherwise), despite the chaotic turns of the plot, despite how utterly off the charts this show is tonally, when it matters, the narrative is pulled together in a way which not only makes complete sense within the world of the series, but is meticulously set-up, satisfying resolved, and delivers lovely emotional impact. Considering that the moral of the story is a very common “live in the moment”, paired up with “greed is bad”, it was surprising how much resonance its delivery actually created. 

Ultimately, however, this show is about found family, and, more specifically, about Wu Xie’s ability to create this family for himself and for every single member of it. He starts as one of the trio, and ends as one of a large group of old allies, new friends, and people he has graced with so much kindness that they follow him until the bitter end. 

Lost Tomb Reboot ensures that you get to know them all, and it’s pretty damn hard to not love this misfit group of adventurers in its entirety. 

(The only thing I could say is that I wish the series spent more time making sure the viewer knows and likes Zhang Qiling, but it seemingly had little purpose for him apart form sweeping in as an avenging angel every now and then. I get that he is a well established character in the series, and that his whole thing is being deadly and enigmatic, but considering that you got to know the other two legs of the famous Triangle so well, it’s a shame that this one was reserved to mostly being Xiao Ge Ex Machina. It would have been nice to know what he was about apart from “really damn cool”.)

Bai Haotian remained my favourite character. She is cute, sweet, romantic, and, for the lack of a better word, “girly”. She is not shy about her crush on Wu Xie, and is prepared to do a lot of reckless, dangerous things for him. None of the above undermine her intelligence, cunningness and authority. Xiao Bai is a young woman in a position of power, and she absolutely knows how to handle herself; for every time she is a damsel in distress, she gets to be the rescuer. For every time she puts herself in needless danger, she learns to collect herself and plan ahead. For every time she is bossed around, she turns and takes charge. Her journey is not the centred around getting the guy, but around discovering her self-assertion; she finds her place within his team not by being a romantic interest, but through her personal strengths. 

My absolutely favourite moment for her came when an antagonist used her affection for Wu Xie to get an upper hand on her, and she gets restrained, knife to her throat. Xiao Bai swivels away, knocks the attacker out and goes to town kicking him, to a great astonishment of this team, as she states that liking someone does not make her weak. 

And it doesn’t. Being in love has nothing to do with weakness or strength. Being a young, and excitable, and a woman does not equate to weakness either.

I’m not saying that this show is a feminist manifesto, because it is definitely not that. Every other prominent female character suffers a pitiful fate in service of creating motivation for the men of the story. But it does spend a lot of time making sure you, the viewer, know its heroes well enough to mentally befriend them. And if this means giving the female lead complexity, I cannot possibly be mad at that. 

So, this was it. This was the Lost Tomb Reboot. It brought me a ridiculous amount of joy and I will miss it a lot. 

And yes, the picture spams will be 100% an excuse to rewatch at least some of it. 

PS. Said spams miiiiight be gif based if I figure out a way to colour correct the damn things. 

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (76) || atz

Tortuga is not happy to have you back.

“You were the man who took our town leader hostage! You cannot simply just stride back onto port and walk here as if you have not just committed the gravest of sins!” A portly man dressed in velvet and gold waves so furiously that his expensive silk cravat has become stained with sweat. “You, hooligans, don’t ever come back to this town!”

Wooyoung simply shrugs and makes to pick his ear with his pinky, entirely without a care in the world. You kick him in the shin and he yelps, shying away.

“Say you’re sorry!”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” He protests, and Yeosang tilts his head back slightly in the middle of negotiations to fix Wooyoung with a glare so menacing you can practically see the darkness rolling off him. Wooyoung must feel the same sensation - of death stepping across his grave - because he shivers and rubs the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe I might have done a thing or two-”

“This man… utterly unbelievable!” The official continues to rant, and even the soldiers lined up behind him are starting to wince from how piercing his voice is. He jabs a finger at Wooyoung ferociously. “I respect you, Pirate King, but the disrespect this man has shown us! Breaking into the officials’ town headquarters! Knocking out the guards! Dragging the head of this town out of his chambers in his… in his sleepwear! Preposterous, I tell you!”

Hongjoong raises his hands, a calm smile on his face to placate the official. “I deeply apologise for my crew member’s behavior. It must have been a terrible experience, but I can assure you my crew regrets his actions and is extremely repentant about his behavior.”

You look dubiously at the supposedly repentant man.

“He sleeps naked.” Wooyoung whispers loudly into your ear, a cheeky smile decorating his face. You stare at him, and then shake your head. He’s incorrigible.

“However, I ask you to understand that the situation at hand was dire, and that we had no other choice in order to go after our captain. As thanks for letting this matter slide, we’ll compensate the town head appropriately.” Yeosang’s angelic smile is at full power, and for a second you’re almost blinded by the halo settling above his head. The bag of gold coins in his hand (polished by Wooyoung for the whole of last night as punishment) somehow seem dull in comparison. “I’m sure you won’t regret it.”

The official’s eyes are like magnets, drawn to the gold. You can almost see him licking his lips. “... compensate?”

“Very handsomely.” Yeosang shakes the bag once. The sound is more alluring than any symphony or sirens’ song to your ears. Apparently, that must be the how the official feels too, because his hand reaches out to touch it, before he jerks it back to his chest, coughing lightly. “Well then, I suppose it couldn’t hurt just to let it go just this once...”

A soldier behind the official rolls his eyes to heaven in exasperation.

“However! That man is not allowed to step foot into the town, and must stay on the ship at all times. This in nonnegotiable. Also,” Yeosang hands over the bag of gold, and the official beckons Hongjoong closer. “There have been... ah... rumors... among the townspeople... Royal Navy... searching for a woman.... bounty... alive... five thousand...”

You glance over at Wooyoung, who’s sulking miserably. “You kind of deserve it. Although... thanks for doing it, to get captain and I back.”

At your words, Wooyoung instantly brightens. “No problem! It was the most fun I had in weeks anyway!” You send him a flat look, intent on chiding him, but then your captain calls your name.

To your surprise, his lips are drawn into a thin line, and there is a furrow to his brow that definitely wasn’t there before. “Chin Hae, do you... remember ever encountering the Royal Navy before meeting us?”

Frowning, you shake your head. There’s tension would tight into his face, and you feel something in your stomach sinking. “No. Why?”

Hongjoong opens his mouth to answer, but then closes it with a sigh before he can say another word. He wears a fond smile as he ruffles your hair gently, lithe fingers carding through the strands. “No matter, this isn’t the place for it. Will you come see me in the captain’s cabin tonight? We have some pressing matters to discuss.”

When he walks away, the smile melts into a grim, worried look on his face.

>>>

“Your legs are starting to hurt?”

San’s expression is filled with concern as he crouches in front of you, gentle fingers kneading and massaging your calves with practiced movements. You nod quietly, watching him as he works. “Yeah. Honestly... the same thing that happened with my hand might be happening to my legs, master.”

His fingers still, and when he looks at them, they come away white. San rubs at his temples, his face drawn taut with worry and something bordering dismay. He stares at your legs as if they could give him an answer to this question. “But this isn’t supposed to happen. Nothing happened to them, you didn’t get hurt, or stabbed, or-”

Your heart warms at the desperate concern burning in his eyes, and you reach out your hand to take his into yours, gripping it gently. When his pained gaze meets yours, you do your best to put on a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, master. I have no intention of dying. You’ll help me out, won’t you?”

San looks at you for a moment with his mouth parted, as if surprised, before it draws into a sharp, determined line. He squeezes your hand back tightly. “Of course I will. As if I’d let anything happen to you!” He rises to his feet, gestures over to the multitude of books and scrolls haphazardly piled and stuffed into every nook and cranny of the sickbay. “There’s got to be something here somewhere similar to your condition, and even if there isn’t, it’ll be somewhere in Tortuga. If it exists on this earth, I’ll definitely find it.”

Something hot stings behind your eyes, but you blink it away, gripping San’s hand tighter. “Hey, master... I... really want to live, you know? I want to keep sailing with the crew... and I want to be with all of you forever. You know that, right?”

It’s fear.

The ugly, twisting feeling coiling deep in your belly is fear. Fear that you’ll never feel the warm sunlight on your face again. Fear that you can never talk and laugh and cry with the crew again. Fear that everything might be coming to an end; an end that you simply cannot come to terms with.

You’d do anything. Anything to stay with the crew, and keep on living.

“Silly apprentice.” San rests a tender hand on your head, looking at you with so much affection you could cry. “Of course I know, because that’s exactly what I feel as well. If there’s any way, I’d take it in a heartbeat! Even if it means getting rid of captain!” He jokes, and you snort, swatting him on the arm.

“Don’t be silly, master, both you and I know that you’d never do that.”

San grins, a large cat-like smile spreading across his face, and rises to his feet, striding over to his workbench.

“Hey, we’re going to cure you. This is your master you’re talking about! You know,” he turns back to give you a little wink, “back in my home village, they called me something of a medical prodigy.”

You rise to your feet, heart so full you can barely feel the pain in your legs and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Then, master... I’ll be counting on you. I’d help you out, but first, there’s something I need to do.”

“Something you need to do?” San peeks over, curiosity brimming in his eyes as you fish out a red fox fur coat from beneath your pillow. A sly smile turns up one corner of his mouth. “Oho. Is that a gift for a certain someone?”

You poke at his side playfully. “He lost his jacket, so I thought I’d make him something to thank him. Why, unhappy you’re not getting one as well?”

San pouts and turns away, arms crossed. “As if! Now get going, I need some silence to concentrate, so shoo!” Under his breath, he mutters, “stupid captain stealing my apprentice... stealing her first handmade gift... maybe it’s really time to get rid of him...”

Giggling lightly, you step around him and out of the room, the fox fur gathered in your arms. It’s soft and warm and light, perfect for a sea voyage and comfortable to wear. You only hope your captain will overlook the some of the stray threads sticking out here and there; your sewing still isn’t perfect, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

As you step out onto the deck, empty save for loose coils of rope and a pair of wooden cleats lying on the floor, you glance down at the fox fur in your arms.

You’re going to be giving him a gift... that you made with your own hands.

What if he doesn’t like it? The thought pops into your mind and you groan, burying your face in your hands. Your cheeks feel hot, and you step over to the side of the ship to cool off and calm down. Beneath you, the ocean is like a mirror of glass, stretching out as far as the eye can see.

Calm down, Chin Hae, it’s just a jacket. And even if he doesn’t like it, so what? You could just give it to someone else!

With that thought in mind, you clench your fist, ready to get it done and over with. But before you can go, there’s a strange sound from beneath you, and you glance down in surprise as the water.

To your shock, the surface of the sea begins to ripple and swirl, disrupted by whatever’s beneath it. You can feel something rising, coming up to the surface, and its intent focused solely on you and you alone. Something in your mind screams for you to run, but your feet only stay rooted to the spot, your hands trembling and cold sweat running down your neck.

What is this?

And out of the depths emerges...

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-Two: Don’t Touch the Stygian Iron!

The plan was really stupid.

Amity told her as much. It was barely a plan at all. But Luz didn’t really see what other choice they had, especially since they were on a time crunch.

Once Amity had stepped out of line, Luz realized she had no idea where the portal was. She knew her father had said it was between the outskirts of the Underworld and the River Achaeon, but she had no idea where that was. So, they ducked away from the crowds of souls to hide inside a cave in one of the smoky black hills just outside the entrance of the Underworld and rested against a pile of blackened rocks until they figured it out. Luckily, Luz didn’t have to guess for long.

“The secret passageway is about half a mile from here, buried near Orpheus’ tunnel,” Amity mumbled quietly to her, and Luz was so startled by her breath so close to her ear (it wasn’t warm like when she was alive… it felt like an icy chill in her ear canal) she jumped about three feet in the air.

She smacked her head on the rock they were hiding under and recoiled. “Owwww!”

Amity’s eyes widened, leaning in. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

It wasn’t a sharp rock, but when she pulled her hand away it was stained red. It was a stupid injury, even dumber than the blood on her knees that was still drying from earlier, but Luz was starting to figure out that she couldn’t be her usual klutzy self if they wanted to escape.

The Underworld was… almost worse for the living than the actual earth. Injuries here hurt twice as bad and drained twice the strength they were supposed to. She would have to be more careful.

“I’m fine. How do you know that?”

Amity flushed. Well, Luz assumed she did, it was hard to tell behind the mist.

“I’ve seen it in my dreams.”

Luz gawked. “Your dreams took you to the Underworld? Mine were just in the mountain!”

Amity rubbed her forearm uneasily. “I told you that my nightmares weren’t like yours. Before I started the quest, I wouldn’t get many flashes of the mountain. Most of my nightmares… well they took me here.”

“This whole time you’d been having those dreams and you didn’t tell me?”

Luz frowned, not wanting to think too hard about what that meant. That she’d known the whole time dying was something that would happen to her, and that Amity had been lying to Luz since they rescued her. It didn’t make her angry… she understood why she’d done it. Amity was the kind of person stubborn enough to shoulder her burdens away so her friends wouldn’t worry. But it certainly called into question everything that had happened right before she fell off the mountain…

Like the kiss in the tree… or the one right before she’d battled Belos. Had Amity only done that because she’d known she was going to die?

Amity flinched, and Luz’s frown deepened. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Amity’s feelings, or make her feel guilty for what had happened. It definitely wasn’t her fault.

She wasn’t sure what she was even going to say, and thank the gods she didn’t have to. The most horrific sound of metal clashing against rock cut off the rest of their conversation, and Amity’s eyes widened.

“Get back! Someone’s coming in!”

Luz slid under a boulder deeper in the cave just as she heard the harsh laughter from a pair of male voices. Very familiar male voices.

“Those little demigods really thought this would just be over like that? They have no idea. Though the one with the plant magic really got you good, eh Theo?”

“Holy Hades, do you ever shut your mouth? Maybe if you hadn’t underestimated the daughter of Aphrodite we wouldn’t be back here. Did you know she had the favor of Ares?”

Theseus and Achilles, and by the sound of it, a dead Theseus and Achilles. Amity was watching quietly from behind the rock, and Luz did everything she could to calm her racing heart, worried any noise at all would give them away.

What even happened to souls who died in the Underworld? She decided she didn’t want to test it by getting caught.

“Hmph. Of course, I didn’t. It doesn’t matter. As long as that portal is open we can avoid judgment and I don’t have to see Paris’ slimy face again. Why would they let him be a judge of the dead? He started a gods-forsaken war!”

“But for no power-hungry purpose. That makes him perfect .”

“Whatever. Let’s just hurry. If the Emperor finds out we didn’t join him right away…”

“We did our due diligence. The mines are clear, and I don’t see any of those silly little demigods following us. It would take them well over a day to get to California or New York. I don’t care what the prophecy says, they’re mortals. Even they abide by physics.”

“Unlike us! HA!”

I heard the sound of a smack, the kind of backhand her Mami would give for coming home late without texting her where she was. “Lower your voice! Do you want to be caught by the kindly ones again?”

“That was one time!”

Slowly, the voices began to fade, until Luz couldn’t hear a thing besides the beating of her heart. She looked up and watched as Amity peered over the rock, her murky golden eyes narrowed in concentration. Eventually, she moved, and the mist around her moved too. She gestured for Luz to stand.

“They’re gone. Let’s hurry.”

Luz was more than ready to agree until she caught sight of her reflection in the rock she’d been leaning against and her eyes widened.

“Wait. Holy Hermes, what is this stuff? Black glass?”

She finally took a moment to examine the cave they’d been hiding in and realized that it wasn’t a cave at all. There were dark iron pickaxes, and smoking set of carving tools leaning against the entry. Just to the left of the strange metal, deeper in the cave was a bright light. The closer Luz stepped to it the quicker she realized that it wasn’t light. It was blistering hot magma, half a mile down the cave. Above the tools, there was thick scarring on the wall, like someone carved into it. Initials.

NDA.

“This is the mine they were talking about,” Luz realized in awe, looking around at more of the strange black material that was as dark as a nightmare. “But… what’s getting mined?”

Amity swallowed hard, suddenly looking nervous. “Stygian Iron. This is a Stygian Iron mine, right next to the River Styx.”

“Let me guess. This is very bad?”

Luz was getting really tired of not knowing things. Thankfully, Amity seemed to catch on, those she still looked like she was going to bolt at any second.

“Stygian Iron is a metal from the Underworld. It’s… probably one of the scariest kinds of weapons a demigod can make. When you kill a monster with it, instead of its essence returning to Tartarus, it gets sucked into the blade and trapped forever.”

Luz thought that was pretty cool. Maybe she should have killed Lena the empousai with it, and she’d never have been bullied again. But Amity still didn’t look pleased. Then, it hit her.

“Wait… what does Stygian Iron do to mortals?”

“Like all godly weapons, it passes right through mortals. For demigods who are alive, a cut from the blade might slow you down and exhaust the limbs, making you easier to kill. But for the souls of dead demigods…”

A shiver ran up Luz’s spine at the silent implication. She stepped forward, ready to usher Amity out of the cave and away from the black metal.

“Ok, well don’t touch it. Let’s just go.”

“Wait! Not yet.”

Luz stepped back, shocked. It’s like something hit her all at once because instead of fear, Amity now had that look on her face that made her nervous. The gears were turning, and there was no stopping her now. Amity leaned in to examine the ore, and Luz’s heart sped out of her chest.

Luz was so worried about her accidentally touching it, she tried to pull her away, once again forgetting she couldn’t. Her hand passed right through her shoulder.

“Amity, you just said this stuff is really dangerous, so why do I think you’re going to try and mess with it?”

“Because this might be the key to stopping Belos,” she insisted.

Luz wasn’t convinced. She didn’t see how any rock that could suck Amity away would in any way be useful. Amity sighed, gesturing to it with one misty finger.

“Luz, just think about it. What if the only way to stop Belos is to trap him, just like he trapped Hestia?”

She stopped cold. Now that was something she hadn’t considered. Now the gears weren’t just turning in Amity’s head. She started making connection after connection, and before she could even think about what she was going to say it was out of her mouth.

“Hestia said the prophecy was supposed to be about me.”

Amity flinched like Luz slapped her. She might as well have. Amity had gone through hell and back literally thinking that she had to be the one to make the sacrifices, to be the good demigod girl Odalia always said she needed to be, and here Luz was blurting in her face that it was all for nothing.

“I… I didn’t mean it like that-” Luz tried, already regretting her impulsive decision.  

“It doesn’t matter,” Amity said flatly, and Luz winced. She opened her mouth to try and protest, but with a misty shimmer, Amity’s hand was up and stopping her from saying anything else. “We’re on a mission and a time crunch. We need to stop Belos before that portal rips open again and we’re right back where we started. We don’t have time for this.”

Luz bit her lip, holding back another protest. She was right. There was no use arguing.

“Okay. So what do we do?”

Amity’s gold eyes glittered, and for the first time since Luz reunited with her, she actually looked alive.

“We make you a dagger.”

Despite Amity not being able to touch the Stygian Iron, she leads the charge when it came to crafting.

She instructed Luz on how to use the tools NDA left behind to pick up a chunk of iron. Then, she mimed how to hammer it down into a sheet. She helped Luz separate the Iron from the regular steel, and slowly shape a hilt out of it. (Thankfully, Luz didn’t have to help with that, Amity was able to touch the steel and do it herself from there). After that, they moved down into the sweltering heat of the Underworld magma and Luz repetitively carved out again and again until the tiny heap of metal looked something like a blade. Thankfully, NDA had left behind heat protection. An enchanted suit to keep Luz’s skin from melting off her body.

Funny. The suit was almost exactly her size. If she ever met NDA, she’d have to thank them.

After hitting the mallet against the glowing iron for what felt like the billionth time, Luz turned to Amity, exhausted. She hadn’t needed a suit, being dead and all. Apparently, the heat just felt like a sauna.

“How do you even know how to do all this?”

“One summer my parents wanted us to work with another cabin and master one of their skills. I picked Cabin 9 and basically lived in the forges that year. I didn’t just make my own xiphos, but one for Ed too, and then I was able to use the extra sheet for Em’s knife.”

“You made your sword?” Luz gawked, thoroughly impressed.

She shrugged her shoulders, mist moving up and down as she did. “The stones on our blades come from the ones Aphrodite gave us. I figured once I told you that you’d put two and two together.”

“How was I supposed to know that you made your own sword?” Luz exclaimed, waving the white-hot metal around as she did. “Who makes their own sword?? Is there anything you can’t do?”

Even when she was scolded for waving around molten iron, Luz couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of pride that even in the Underworld, she’d been able to make Amity laugh.

In no time at all, the iron was ready. With careful hands, Luz was instructed on how to push the hilt gently against the blade, and hammer it down while it was still hot. Then came the tricky part.

“Stygian Iron doesn’t become fully formed until it’s cooled, and the only way to do that is by dipping it in the Styx,” Amity explained, looking left and right down the black sandy beaches to see if anybody was coming. “Whatever you do, don’t touch the water.”

She remembered Chiron’s warning to Cooper and shivered. Luz approached carefully, swallowing. Very careful not to step anywhere near the slow lapping oil-colored waves, she gently lowered the metal into the water.

First mistake.

The second it went under it made the loudest, most heinous sound Luz had ever heard. Like the screams of a thousand souls dying all at once.

She shrieked, almost dropping the blade entirely as she pulled her hand back, bringing the newly cooled weapon with her. The sound of her scream echoed around the clearing, and there was a clammer of noise from the distance, the same direction Theseus and Achilles had left down.

Second mistake.

“Luz, go!” Amity hissed in her ear, and Luz took off running, glancing behind her once to make sure the daughter of Aphrodite was keeping up. She lost a little bit of speed as she did, and Amity glared daggers at her.

“I’m right behind you! Away from the cave! We have to blend in!”

The noise was getting louder, and Luz knew they were almost out of time. She had to trust Amity. The cave was compromised, it would be the first place they checked. But from what they’d overheard from the two newly re-dead demigods, there was a whole army waiting near the portal, and they had a new fancy weapon that just might save the day.

Luz kept running, keeping to the outskirts of the River along the sandy beaches, away from the mine and closer and closer to the distant River Acheron. If she could get there before anybody sounded the alarm, hopefully, nobody would think twice about her and Amity being there with them. If they didn’t buy it, they were dead. But if they stayed here, they were also dead.

It was their only chance.

Luz heard the gathering demigods before she saw them. And thankfully, the screams and shouts of outrage weren’t directed anywhere towards her.

It was chaos.

Demigods of all ages and from all time periods were throwing punches, kicks, and body-slamming other dead demigods to the ground. Left and right ghosts were dissolving away, but just as many seemed to take their place. There was cursing, screaming, shouting, as they brought up centuries-old baggage and Luz knew right away she wasn’t going to fit in.

Not because she was alive. Because she couldn’t get stuck running straight through this crowd. She’d stick out like a sore thumb just because nobody would recognize her.

In the time she spent standing there like a deer in headlights, Amity caught up to her and gestured for her to hide behind a boulder. She slinked in next to her, and Amity’s own wide eyes reflected the anxiety she was feeling.

“What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” Luz said honestly, peering up over the rock. She clutched the new blade to her chest, unwilling to part from the thing that she’d just risked her life to make. It was just under a foot long, and was, if possible, an even darker shade of black than the ore or the River itself. It was shoddy crafting at best (Luz never wanted to touch a forge ever again) with faulty lines and a bumpy edge but it was sharp as anything and shimmered maliciously, and the raw hilt of the iron against Luz’s hand rubbed callouses into her palm. “Do you think we lost whoever was chasing us?”

“I think so,” Amity said, peeking. “Screaming in the Underworld is not that uncommon. I made sure nobody saw us. But I don’t know how you’re going to get through that crowd.”

Luz spared a glance, a silently agreed. She watched as one of the demigods knocked another’s helmet clean off their head, and it went spinning into the sand landing barely two feet from Luz and Amity’s rock. The spirit dissolved into thin air, and the victor roared in delight before charging back into battle.

“How are they dissolving?” Luz mumbled, shaking her head. “Aren’t they dead?”

“They’re between worlds,” Amity explained, “Guided by Belos’ portal to wait until they are fully reformed. They can carry weapons, wear armor, anything that might guide them until they can drink Pomegranate Nectar in the mortal world and become human again.”

Luz stared at Amity, who might have blushed again. “I dreamed about this clearing a lot, okay?”

“What is Pomegranate Nectar? The sounds like something they sell at Whole Foods.”

“It’s the liquid in Belos’ chalice,” she added, and Luz suddenly remembered the table next to the portal with the golden cup. “The first few batches were made from stolen Pomegranates from Persephone’s garden, but you can use any Underworld fruit to make it.”

Right. Underworld fruit. This day just got better and better.

“Why aren’t you a half soul like the other demigods here?”

Amity looked at her misty body, frowning. “I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t been dead long enough.”

The fighting in the clearing got more intense and Luz ducked as a body slammed into the rock they were hiding behind and dissolved, their chest plate hitting the dirt with it. There were more shouts and screams, and Amity ducked next to her in alarm.

“We need to move.”

“I have an idea,” Luz said to her, already shaking her head. “But it’s crazy.”

“Sounds like us. Let’s try it.”

So, Luz crept around the rock and swiped the helmet and chest plate off the beach, putting them on as quickly as she could. She tucked the Stygian Iron blade under her shirt in the back of her armor straps, careful not to reveal it. To finish the look, she opted to call for Aletheia, and the blade grew in her hand, a comfortingly familiarity that made her feel much better.

“So? How do I look?” She asked Amity, who shrugged.

“Like a vengeful demigod. It’s a good helmet, I can’t see your face at all.”

Luz peered over the rock one more time just to see another angry demigod get run through with a sword. She flinched, and Amity tucked her fist under her chin in worry.

“This is so not going to work.”

“It’s going to work,” Luz insisted, even though it wasn’t exactly an encouraging sight. “Demigods are still demigods, even if they’re a thousand years old. This would work at camp. It will work here.”

She turned to look at Amity, realizing for the first time this meant they’d be separated. Amity seemed to sense this, and she shot Luz a small smile.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m the one who can’t die, you know that right?”

“What if I lose you in the crowd?” She fretted, the frown stretching across her mouth. “What if the portal opens, and I don’t have time to pull you through? What if somebody recognizes you and-”

“Luz!” Amity exclaimed, stepping forward and shaking her head. “Please, don’t worry about me. We have a plan. Just focus on getting to the portal without getting stabbed, and this time don’t look back. I’m right behind you.”

“You promise?” Luz hated how weak her voice sounded. Like a little kid worried she was going to lose her mom in the grocery store.

“I promise,” Amity said firmly, and Luz’s heart pounded against her chest as she tore her eyes away. She had to get a grip. She was on a mission, and she was going to bring Amity home. She just needed to focus. But the lingering fear was still there, and she wanted to kick herself for it.

“Luz, please,” Amity muttered, stepping so close to her that the cold rush of mist forced Luz to look back at her eyes. They were pleading, and Luz was smacked with the realization that Amity was just as worried as she was, but not for her, for Luz. Amity didn’t want her to run in their worried and get herself killed. “You have to trust me. I’m right behind you.”

That was enough for her. Amity was the most determined person she knew. If she said she was going to be right behind her, she would be right behind her.

“I do trust you,” Luz said, tightening her grip on her sword. “Stay close. I have a battlefield to avoid.”

The two of them stepped out from behind the rock, and Luz’s heart sank. Somehow, it seemed to have gotten even larger. In the distance, up the steepest Underworld hill Luz had seen yet, was a shocking replication of the swirling iron and obsidian portal back in the mountain. Luz had played enough Minecraft to know that it probably wasn’t a replication, but the real deal, something that appeared the same time the other one had been built.

She had hundreds, maybe even a thousand demigods she had to barrel through on the way to get to it. With all their slashing and hacking, she’d be lucky if she made it twenty feet in.

“Are you sure about this?” Amity hissed next to her, eyeing the crowd of ghostly demigods uneasily.

“Nope,” Luz said, taking a deep breath. “But when am I sure of anything?”

“Please, don’t get yourself killed,” Amity said, “I haven’t even gotten the chance to kick your butt at capture the flag back at camp.”

“Like that will ever happen,” Luz snorted, adjusting the helmet as she got ready to charge. “I’ve been getting lots of practice. You wouldn’t get ten feet near my flag.”

“Is that a challenge, Noceda?”

“It’s not a challenge, Blight. It’s a promise. See you at the top.”

She lowered her head, and with the loudest, most demigod-y scream she could muster, she charged full force towards the crowds of demigods, barreling in a straight line towards the portal.