#let’s just say he’s out doing kingly stuff

[witless-winion1]

A day before the Ithacans leave for war

Eurylochus: My dear sister, may I have a word with you in private?

Penelope: yes, of course, Eurylochus. What did you wish to speak with me about?

Eurylochus: Would you do me a favor...please, can you look after Ctimene? I know we leave for Troy soon, but I’m worried for her health- recently, she’s been very unwell in the mornings, and frequently tired, and if neither me nor Ody are here to take care of her, I fear…just please watch over her, would you?

Penelope, realizing: oh

Eurylochus: …what are you thinking? My queen, you seem pale-

Penelope: it’s nothing, forgive me. Yes, of course I’ll look after her. But thank you for alerting me to her…condition.

(inspired by @notsolonedesert, aka the queen of Eurymene- Aha that rhymes- anyways the comic)

[savanir]

I found your missing cat

It had taken a lot of work but about a month ago Danny finally got deep enough into A.R.G.U.S to be allowed into its Black Room. and my, what a treasure trove it is.

In the following weeks Danny has spent a lot of time finding all the lost Infinite Realms artifacts he was supposed to locate and return, as was part of his kingly duties. The Observants had been constantly on his ass about this but now that the results of his efforts are actually visible they have finally shut up.

Today though something new has gotten brought in and he’s eager to take a proper look, he could feel the Tyrant king’s influence from a distance emanating from it after all.

While on his way he noticed one of his colleagues, Miss Barbara Minerva if he remembers correctly, talking to who looks to be Wonder Woman. Danny hasn’t had the chance to do so himself yet, he’d love to introduce himself properly but he’s also a little worried about all the knowledge he has on Amazons from Lady Pandora (which he very much shouldn’t have) coming out the moment he tries to have a proper conversation.

Still he hopes nothing bad comes from those two ladies being on friendly terms. Miss Barbara's vibes are all over the place, and most often nowhere good, but who knows, maybe her being around Wonder Woman more will fix that.

He gets to his little section in the compound with the big examination table all decked out and ready for whatever. Today he gets to look at one of Pariah's lost blades, the godslayer sword.

Danny is working on getting all the murderous enhancements off of it and depowering it into something nowhere near so dangerous and deadly when something perks up within the weapon. 

Sensing a kindred protection spirit it leaps up from the blade and into Danny, happily nestling around Danny's core and starts purring up a storm. 

Danny however is violently startled out of his work. It's hard not to notice the sudden claws he feels both on his hands and feet. The spotted fur that covers seemingly his whole body now, his shifted ears, eyes and nose. And the fact he's now sporting a tail of all things. 

The Cheetah may be pleased with this new development but Danny is certainly not. 

Footsteps thunder his way, followed by a shout, "what is wrong!? I heard sounds of distress and- oh!"

"Uuuhhmmm..." What does he say!? How is he supposed to explain all this to Wonder Woman!?

She marches forward and firmly grabs his clawed hands in her own, not worried in the slightest about his now razor sharp nails, "worry not, we shall break this beastly curse that has befallen you, you have my word" 

She gives him what he thinks must be a reassuring smile, "I am Diana of Themyscira and-"

Danny isn't really listening after that, she's probably just giving him more reassurances. It's nice but she's also pretty intense. And Danny is still freaking out a little. 

"- so no need to fret"

Danny blinks,"Uh thanks, I- I'm Danny Fenton" 

"It is most pleasant to meet you Danny Fenton, even if the circumstances are quite unfortunate"

"Yeah uhm, just Danny is fine"

"Very well you may call me Diana" She nods and lets go of his hands.

Diana then wishes to see the artifact that cursed him so, aka the blade (which didn’t curse him), Danny thankfully already fully depowered the damn thing safe for some minor traces of whatever Pariah saw fit to stuff in it. 

By now Steve as well as Barbara have come to take a look themselves and though they appear startled at his new catlike appearance they are mostly just worried once Diana tells them he's cursed. 

Which he's not, this isn't a curse at all. The big cat spirit still tightly curled around his core is clearly a blessing of some sort, that'll make dealing with it all so much more complicated...

But at least Danny got to meet wonder woman right? That's cool.

[mysterystarz]

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 

This sucked ass. 

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 

You could almost call it picturesque. 

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 

His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 

What could be more human than that? 

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 

A grand gym and an even grander boy. 

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 

“We always love the extra coverage.” 

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 

“Not true.” He huffed. 

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 

You weren’t sure what to say. 

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 

“It’s been here…?” 

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 

“Mean. But seriously, why?” 

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 

The way he looked at you now was like worship. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 

The way he held you was reverent. 

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 

He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 

“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 

“With my sets, yes.” 

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 

“When?” 

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 

“Shush.” 

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 

“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 

“I have my sources,” you winked. 

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 

“So you do know.” 

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 

“We don’t have to right now.” 

“Thanks Tooru.” 

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 

Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 

“Je suis fâché.” 

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 

“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 

“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 

You weren’t sure. 

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 

You snickered. “Not a chance.” 

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 

This was intriguing. 

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

[xplr-myrddin]

After the poetry scene:

Arthur was in his room, doing his kingly duties (aka doing nothing). Merlin was doing his job, making sure the kings bedding was neat, that there was nothing on the floor and the everything was nice looking and clean. He had just came back with Arthurs food. He sets the plate down and says in a soft teasing way, "You should eat, wouldnt want you to waste away." Arthur scoffs but grabs his breakfast, eating some to get Merlin to back off.

After some silence, Arthur speaks up, something interesting had crossed his mind. "Merlin, how'd you come up with the Poetry excuse so fast?" Merlin hums at the question, though he doesn't look up, being busy with cleaning. "Seeing the situation we were in, and how masculine you attempt to keep your image, and how the way the Knights view certain things. It seemed right to say we were reading poetry." Arthur sighs and responds almost immediately. "Well, yes. I know that. But why poetry?" "It seemed the most believable, seeing as how most of the Knights know about my poetry an-" "Wait." Arthur interrupts Merlin. "What do you mean your poetry? You write poetry?" Merlin hums, internally beating himself up. "Yes, go ahead, make fun." He muttered and started to orginaize stuff he didnt need to. Arthur looked offended. "I wasn't gonna mak-" Merlin gives Arthur a knowing look and chuckles lightly, in disbelief. "You were." "Was not, Promise. I was gonna ask if I can hear one of your poems!" Merlin stopped and looked away. "Nope." "What? Why not?" "Because you're a dollaphead." "That's not a real reason Merlin." Arthur answers between gritted teeth. He huffs out, not wanting to get mad over something this....silly. "Give me a reasonable reason." He stated. Merlin looked up and hummed. "You wouldnt understand." Now that may have been too far of a joke. Arthur clicked his tongue but sighed, keeping calm. "Let me at least try." He spat out, frustrated.

Merlin sighed, knowing Arthur, he would not let it go ever. "Fine." Merlin started. "But don't interrupt." With another breath, Merlin looked away and his eyes grew sort of distant.

"With hair as golden as the sun, and eyes like the crashin waves of an ocean, the pure beauty they possess is like a spirit which has blessed us. Although they can be rude, their kindness shines through most. Through mountains and hillsides, everyone agrees, that this deity of change is bound to see me."

Merlin pauses after, going silent before speaking again. "Was that about me?" Arthur said suddenly, snapping Merlin from his thoughts.

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

Dp x dc thoughts and stuff

New Dimension, Who's This?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Okay okay wait what if ghosts sort of feed off their own energy supply or like humans make our own blood they make their own ecto.

But Danny is a halfa.

Maybe he doesn't make any or just not in his human form. So when his powers use it up he has to find a way to get more.

In Amity that isn't really a problem, but if he's not in Amity? If he's not even in his dimension?

...

Danny is king, he has been for a few years now. Lets say he's 20 something and he's still learning his og powers as well as his new kingly eldritch ones.

He makes a portal, goes in to check it out, and gets stuck when he doesn't have enough juice to make another one to go back.

Portals aren't simple, even a portal for something human at a lower power level needs a lot to make a portal in their own dimension.

Creating one for an eldritch being, the king of the infinite realms, to another dimension requires an insane amount of energy. so he's stuck... somewhere, with no energy source. Transforming back into something vaguely human looking is taxing so he sits on the ground to take stock. The extra arms, paper white skin and hair, and the many ever shifting eyes are gone, but he can still feel the fangs and pointy ears, his crown shrunk down to a broach keeping a cape in place, it's covered in a frost so cold the fabric around it crystalizes, and his clothing is an odd mix of ghostly regalia and a black hoodie. It doesn't look bad, but he doesn't know how this dimension works just yet and he doubts this will help him "fit in".

Thankfully invisibility and intangibility come so naturally to him it's just the switch that requires ecto, similar to transforming, once he's there that's where he'll stay.

He needs to find a power source, wherever it is he's ended up, so he goes looking. He finds Lazarus pits but they aren't bottomless like the lakes in the zone. Some are like a dripping faucet, sure it'll fill back up at some point but who knows how long that'll take. Others were artificial, someone ripped a hole between realities, probably a small one since the leftover feeling of a portal wasn't there.

Danny stays invisible for nearly 2 months as he searches for a way home, time can act differently between dimensions, in Amity he might be gone an hour or a decade. The best thing to do for now is to get in contact with Clocky and hope they can figure it out together.

While emptying another pit he hears an angry man yell "You said this one wasn't empty."

An obviously nervous voice answers, "It was full this morning, Sir."

"This is the last one we have any record of!" there's a crash that intrigues Danny so he pops above the surface to catch a glimpse.

His stomach falls when he sees a Vlad looking fruit loop tearing apart a makeshift lab in a cave. Equipped with the same ridicules cape and beard.

There is a woman sitting on a folding chair, her legs are crossed and she very obviously is done with whatever fruit loop 2.0 is doing.

He was expecting to find more than 4! If that's the last of the leaks he needs to find another source asap.

"We can head to Gotham." the woman says, still uninterested as she pulls at a thread on her sleeve. "That place has always been a cesspool for everything weird."

"Nyssa." the man takes a breath, no longer yelling he continues, "We've tried that."

The woman stands, she looks scarier calm than the fruitloop does angry. "No, we tried to find one. We couldn't search there cuz of the bats, but if there are a few diversions we could get enough equipment into the sewers and we'd continue our search unnoticed."

Danny doesn't care much about the rest, he needs to get to Gotham before they do. He just needs to find where that is.

...

Jason Todd came back from the dead a few years ago. [We can leave him at around 23, idk what age he was when Talia plopped him into the pits.]

He's angry ALL the time, it fogs his mind so much it feels like he's no longer in control of his body. He knows he nearly killed one of his brothers, possibly two, but they ignore it so he does too.

He hasn't seen his family much since he was... brought back. As always, something pushes him to take action when he would rather not.

This time it's a rumor amongst his lackeys about someone planning on killing Redhood. They don't know he and Red are the same person, so he was planning on leaving the helmet at a safe house and sticking around to give orders and keep an eye on things.

That plan falls through when a group of three come up to him, they think he spends the most amount of time with the boss and want to keep their leader safe, but don't feel they have that kind of relationship with him to show how worried they are. They push Jason to take Redhood and hide.

His way of doing things creates a pretty even playing field amongst the lackeys, other than Redhood himself. If he refuses he's not a team player, if he tries to advise against it they'll think he's the one trying to kill his own alter ego.

He has to go somewhere none of his enemies know of, but also where none of his allies know.

That's how he's ended up being shuffled into the manor by Alfred, duffle bag in his arm and a headache so horrendous it's hard to understand what Alfred is saying.

~

Jason had been at the manor for two weeks, in that time he'd heard of two territory fights by crime alley, someone emptying the Lazarus pits around the world, and the assassination attempt on him hasn't played out yet.

He was going insane with his family on him at all times. No matter what he did someone was with him.

He knew telling them he felt ill and didn't want to hurt an innocent if the rage took over wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't think of one that would work as well to get them on his side.

That meant, however, that he wouldn't be able to go out on patrol at all nor leave the manor alone.

Damian, of all of them, was the one that helped him. He still acted like the spoiled brat he always was, but he'd grown. He was calmer, not by much, but it took him longer to be set off than he used to.

It wasn't hard to convince him not to say anything, he still knew his brother after all he came prepared. An intricate knife from 15th century china he nabbed off a man with a sword collection that could rival Damians and a story of wanting to get back his cat that he had to leave at his main safe house was all it took to get Damian to agree.

With his needed entertainment (books and videogames), his cat stuffed inside his jacket (which yes, Emma did exist), and ice cream; they were making their way back to the manor at dusk. Jason froze, someone something was following them.

"Dami, do you have your sensor turned on."

"Of course I do." he puffed out his chest and stopped to push back his sleeve.

"Don't stop walking, check what's to my left." the building was boarded up. It hadn't been like that last time he was here.

"Don't tell me what to do." Damian caught up with him before adding, "The building has no electricity or anything in it, but it's weirdly cold."

Just as they both look over to the building something phases through the boarded up window. "Run, now!"

As they take off towards the manor the creature follows them. He can't hear it, no footsteps, no heartbeat, no breathing, but he can feel it. And he wants to fight it.

"It's still following us." Damian whisper yelled. then Damian answered a question he didn't ask. "We're half a mile from the manor, on the road with the ice-cream shop."

"You have your com on?" His need to fight this thing only grew.

"Just with Tim. We should never have them fully off, something could happen."

Of course, he knew that, he suffered those consequences. He was probably the reason it was so enforced... and why it was followed.

Suddenly the roaring of an engine and a black car with all it's doors open comes racing down the road. Damian jumps in first, with Emma stuffed in his jacket he can't just throw himself in so he chucks his games and slides in feet first, hugging his chest to keep her safe.

The doors shut and the car speeds off past the entrance to the manor.

The winding roads should have shook the creature off their trail. It's not long before the car takes them down a secret entrance to the bat cave.

There's yelling before he's even out of the car.

"You could have got hurt!" Tim is yelling at him, "I don't care who you think you are, you put our brother in danger!" The rage starts back up, he was here first, he was the one who could protect Dami not him.

"Timmothy I fight crime."

Tim swivels on his heels, "That thing wasn't human. How would you have fought it exactly?"

Jason can feel himself being engulfed in it again, he's vision going green and his whole body tensing. "Listen here replacement."

"I am not!" Tim turns back around, the steam in him vanishes when he looks at Jason's face.

"Boys," a calm voice echoes through the cave. "No fighting in the cave. Go up stairs to breath or finish outside."

Jason ignores Tim and Dami as he walks to the elevator. He can't look at Alfred, can't let him see him like this.

Once out from behind the bookcase he lets Emma down gently, then flops onto the couch. If they know what's good for them they'll find another way up.

They don't apparently and all three walk out the same exit, bickering.

The noise erases the effort he'd made to quite the pits, as he stands to shut them up the creature floats up through the table.

A terrifying creature with long teeth, pointy ears, long curved nails and a cap hiding a thin hunched figure leans towards him. As he jumps away the thing grabs him and latches on.

Jason tries to shake it off, but it's almost like it's stuck to him. Not physically, but there is something holding them together and it's not the creature.

Suddenly a bright light flashes and the creature turns onto a young man.

"Why's the ecto in this dimension so shit." It... he looks tired, there are bags under his eyes and his skin looks sickly. He's draped over Jason, at first he thought the man was holding Jason in place, but it seemed more like he was holding himself up.

Tim stopped in his tracks. "What the fuck?"

"Language."

"Sorry Alf, but uh... What's happening?"

The man mumbled something, he rested his head on Jason's shoulder, he could see the effort it took to speak louder. "I'm so hungry dude. Why are you the only liminal person I've come across? It makes no sense."

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

(continuation of the continuation for the reaper of heroes au/writing prompt #3)

I said I was done with this writing prompt, didn't I? I lied. Brain won't let go.

← previous

✦

Healing Jason is slow going. Whatever was used to bind his soul back to his body with the chains already snapped and corroded was some really nasty stuff. Phantom worked tirelessly with the yetis of the Far Frozen to extract it from his underdeveloped core without causing his soul to separate again. It was excruciatingly painful for the man to go through but Phantom held onto his hand through the worst of it, even though Jason was too delirious to fully appreciate it.

In the end, the lazarus water was flushed out of his system and stored in a jar for later observations. Jason slept for many days afterwards as the yetis supplied his underdeveloped core with the nutrients it needed to finish forming. Phantom patiently waited by his side for as long as he was allowed in between his kingly/reaper duties.

Needless to say, it was quite a shock to Jason when he woke up to a strange white haired main sleeping silently in the chair next to his bed and the yeti dressed in a doctor's coat fixing a new bag of what looked to him was gently glowing lazarus water to his IV stand. Initially, he freaks out, waking Phantom up as Jason sprints out of the med room and out into below freezing weather. He can barely walk he's shivering so hard.

"You might wanna come back inside where it's warm. Unless you want to catch the rest of your death out there?" Is the first thing Phantom says to him after he woke up.

Jason goes back inside and is bundled in the fluffiest blankets he's ever seen. He asks what's going on and Phantom freely explains everything from the moment he collected his soul. How Clockwork had announced the unexpected creation of another halfa and the gruesome fate he would've had if Phantom hadn't found him and taken him to the Far Frozen when he did.

"Is that why you feel familiar? I've heard your voice before."

Phantom smiles sadly at him and nods his head in agreement. He apologizes once more for not being able to save him then and for not keeping his soul safe while he was most vulnerable. This is what Jason had imagined happening between him and Bruce so many times. Wishing for him to apologize for not making it in time. For letting the clown live. With some thought, Jason forgives Phantom and wonders at his ability to easily do so with the pit gone.

Jason is advised to stay in the Far Frozen until his core is fully developed and stabilized. Until then, Phantom teaches him what it means to be a halfa as well as about the Infinite Realms and his role as it's ruler. Jason is having a blast, surprisingly. Even more so when introduced to Ghostwriter and given permission to peruse his vast collection of every book ever written. Things are good so far. Things grind to a halt when the yetis call for Jason and Phantom's attention to something rather curious.

The jar that held the lazurus water has reformed into a ball the size of Jason's fist. A ball with large white eyes that looked up at them with black tears rolling down it's face that steadily dripped to the bottom of the jar.

��

The sentient lazurus blob came out of no where, I swear. Regardless, I've decided the lazurus blob's name is Leslie and no one can change my mind. Their pronouns are they/them/it. Leslie is just scared and heavily misunderstood.

Leslie the Lazarus blob art by me

[raayllum]

Soren has always been quite charming, thank you very much.

He has great hair, and a dazzling smile—if he does say so himself—and a swaggering air where he can convince anyone to do just about anything. He'd gotten Callum to lift up logs for shining gemstones knowing very well there'd been nothing but gross bugs underneath just for his own amusement. He'd pulled puppy-dog eyes at Claudia and she'd always, inevitably, help him dye his hair. Even Ezran, on days he had to be very kingly and stoic, couldn't say no to a jelly tart heist if Soren asked for one.

Still, Soren can admit that Opeli can sometimes be a tough nut to crack.

She's traditional, and stern faced, and secretly funny, and she has to be the adult at the table most of the time—especially after Corvus leaves (because Soren is charming, but he can't convince him to stay—not when Soren's half-assing it and knows it) and someone has to hold down the fort.

Now she's insisting that no, they don't have time to go to the Banther Lodge and build snow forts, because they have a delegation to greet in Del Bar in two weeks, and going to the Lodge will add another few days of travel.

"It's Del Bar," Callum says. "They have bad weather that delays stuff all the time."

"It is important to make a good impression," Opeli counters, unwavering even if it's Callum and Rayla's first time back in Katolis in a little while.

"Come on, Opeli," Rayla says. "We can build snow-elves."

The cleric presses her lips together. "I'm afraid that—"

"Breaks to avoid burnout are important, though," Soren chimes in, and Opeli stops and stares at him. He won't lie and say he doesn't act more outlandish sometimes, ever so slightly—to be ridiculous but not immature—just to have her eyes on him a little longer. He leans back in his chair for said reason, hands folded behind his head. "And being fashionably late is Del Bar politeness, you know."

"Soren," Opeli sighs, wavering.

"The best mead is at the Banther Lodge, too," he continues, 'musing.' We'll want to bring something good as a present. Even if we sent a runner now, it'd only really save us a day, maybe two. With no vacation. So..." He grins at her, waggling his eyebrows. "Please?"

Opeli stares at him for a moment, and then a moment longer, before rubbing at her temples. "Fine. Fine." A chorus of cheers, starting with Ezran, sound around the table. "You may go," she relents. "But you better start packing soon. You'll want to leave in the morning."

There's a hasty scraping of chairs as people rise, Ezran scooping up Bait and Callum and Rayla exchanging excited looks. Soren remains as Barius leaves to start baking, watching as Opeli gathers up the paperwork.

"You're coming too, right?" he checks.

She stops, startling like she didn't realize she was still there. Then she focuses on shuffling her papers. "Someone must look after the kingdom—"

"There are other advisors who can spare a few days."

"Soren—"

"You'll be handling things on your own here when we go to Del Bar. You deserve a break too."

Opeli glances down. "I'm not sure—"

"I'd wish you come," he chances, ignoring the sudden lump in his throat. He's supposed to be charming, not sincere. He scrounges up more of a swaggering grin as she blinks, face otherwise unreadable beneath her circlet. "Things are always more fun when you're around."

Opeli lets out a wonderfully undignified snort. "I don't know about that."

"It's true. You're the only one who can stump Callum's snarkiness. And Rayla's surliness."

"I suppose so." She squints at him, mouth pulling up reluctantly into a smile. "You're sure I won't be a killjoy?"

"Not entirely," he says, "but—" and she laughs.

"I thought you were supposed to be charming."

He picks up a loose paper and hands it to her, fingers brushing. Soren tries to talk like his heart isn't beating too fast. "Can't be all the time, I think—although I didn't know you thought so at all."

Their eyes catch. She looks away first, clearing her throat but saying nothing.

Soren lets his gaze linger this time and pushes just a little. "So—you'll come with us?"

Opeli holds her paperwork to her chest. "Yes," she answers at last. "I think I will."

[elliethecat]

Okay y'all, here's my next Zora May entry!

If you don't know already, Zora May is hosted by the amazing @prisiidon, and this propt was "formal ball"!

(Sidenote I was listening to Aphex Twin while writing this to take that how you will)

There was a very important event in Zora's Domain, and Sidon was fretting most of it. That night was a very important ball—one that happened every few years—and it had to be perfect. Sidon had already finished planning everything, but there was something else that was bugging him. Link.

How could he be seen eating with and dancing with Link? Who would Yona dance with? What would the people of the domain think? What would he do?!

Sidon was eventually snapped out of this state of panic by a certain silly-yet-stoic knight grabbing hold of his hand. Link was having the exact opposite emotions as Sidon was. Link had a small smile on his face and was excited to dance with his king. Even though Link was nervous about the ball a bit as well, Link was ready for everything that might happen. Link nuzzled Sidon's arm as he held the King's hand and smiled.

“Sidon, everything's gonna be fine. If anyone wants to talk bad about us then they can fuck off!”

“Link! While I agree with what you said, you cannot cuss out our citizens!”

“But what if they deserve it?” Link said in mock disappointment.

“Link, even if they deserve it, that's not a royal thing to do!”

“I guess… You do know that I wasn't really gonna do that, right?”

“Yes, Link, I do. I can easily tell when you are joking.”

Link let out a soft laugh and hugged Sidon, a sweet smile on his face. Sidon can easily read Link like a book, and Link knew this.

“Now, my pearl, I sewed an outfit for you for the ball tonight,” Sidon said, a soft smile on his face.

“Ooo! Can I see it, Sidon?” Link responded quickly.

“Of course! I shall go and get it. I intentionally set it with my more elaborate regalia.”

Sidon quickly walked over to where he kept his regalia and got a beautiful white and silver suit and an equally as pretty white circle skirt with blue accents. The fact that there wasn't any trousers or a blouse showed that the two items were meant to be worn together, and it was a tad surprising for Link. Link didn't mind, though, as he was fine with wearing a suit or a dress. The ball was in a couple hours, so there was a bit of time for Link, Sidon, and Yona to work out all the kinks of the ball together.

Once Yona got back from doing queen stuff, she sat down by Link and Sidon and smiled at them. The smile wasn't just because she was happy to see them, no no, it was also because Link was sitting in Sidon's lap and was clearly happy to be with his king.

“Hello Yona. Link and I have discussed the ball and have decided that we do not care what anyone says about us, but we still have a problem. Who will you dance with? I do not mind you dancing with anyone, I just don't know how you would feel,” Sidon said.

“Oh, I'm fine with that arrangement, Sidon! There's this Zora woman that I have seen around the domain, and I was hoping that I would be able to ask her to dance with me!” Yona responded.

“I hope that she says yes, Yona!” Link chirped.

“Thank you, Link. I hope she does too…” Yona mumbled, clearly thinking about this woman whom she wanted to dance with.

Link and Sidon just smiled, and Link quickly got back to snuggling with Sidon. Link is quite the stubborn Hylian, so if he wants snuggles, you're gonna have to give them to him if you don't want to deal with him bugging you all day! Link's snuggles are wonderful to Sidon anyway, so he really doesn't mind at all.

Several hours later, it was time for the ball. Sidon was dressed in his full kingly regalia—a beautiful thing made with beautiful jewels, shiny silver, and beautiful fabrics. Yona was wearing a similar outfit to Sidon, but the person with the most eye-catching outfit was Link. The Hylian was wearing the beautiful skirt suit that Sidon sewed for him, and it made him look stunning. The skirt segment didn't restrict Link's movement, and what makes it better is that the skirt had pockets!

The three went to the banquet table to wait for the rest of the attendees. One after another, Zora of every status in society—the unemployed to royal guards—came into the room and sat down at the table. Link's outfit and seat right next to the king got a few stares, but Link didn't mind. Once everyone was there, the food was passed around, and every person at attendance got a good portion. The only variable that could have gone wrong was that Fronk and Mei brought their children, but they were very well behaved.

Once the feasting was over, everyone filed into the ballroom to dance. Before Sidon got the ability to ask Link for a dance, many Zora swarmed him to ask about whatever they needed.

“King Sidon,” Tula started, “Are you going to dance with Queen Yona? You two would be perfect dance partners!”

“Actually, Tula, I was going to dance with Link. Yona told me that she wanted to ask for another Zora's hand for a dance,” Sidon said.

“What?! But you and Yona are husband and wife! You two should dance with each other!”

“Well, we do not want to dance together. We both gave permission that we could dance with other people, and the person I want to dance with is Link.”

“But—”

“I will dance with him no matter what anyone says. He is my dearest, and I shall be by his side as long as he wishes for me to be.”

This shut Tula up quickly, and Sidon quickly got through every other Zora who needed to ask him something. Once that was done, Sidon turned to Link and extended his hand.

“May I have this dance, my pearl?”

“Pshh, obviously. You don't even have to ask, dummy,” Link said in response.

Sidon chuckled in response, and he gently grabbed Link's hands. Before they started dancing though, Sidon and Link spied Yona asking her attendant Khira something, and by both of their reactions it was clear that Yona asked her to dance. It seems like King Fasolla, Yona's homophobic father, gave her the wrong attendant in his eyes. He would be mortified if he found out that his daughter is dancing with one of her attendants. He doesn't need to know, however, and Link and Sidon won't tell anyone.

Now, it was time for Link and Sidon to dance. The two slowly danced together, though at times their dancing got a touch faster. The two were dancing beautifully, and the gentle spin of Link's skirt as they moved as one accentuated their beauty. Link and Sidon looked like a proper king and queen, but in this case it could be considered that they were a proper king and prince.

Most eyes were on the pair as they danced, and Sidon and Link noticed this. Sidon then spun Link around in his arms, though Link was a bit clumsy and almost fell. Sidon, luckily, was there to catch the Hylian in an accidental passionate move. Link was incredibly embarrassed, as was obvious from his face being smothered in a deep pink.

“Careful there, my pearl. I wouldn't want you to fall!” Sidon teased.

“Shut up, you handsome fish! You weren't the one who was spun around, were you?” Link rebuked jokingly.

“That is true, you handsome devil.”

“Stop complimenting me in front of the entire domain!”

“What if I don't?”

“Then I'll… I'll bite one of your fins off!”

“Violent much?”

“Just… Keep dancing with me and shut your mouth!”

“Well I can't resist orders from my dearest Hylian, can I?”

“Sidon!”

Sidon let out a soft chuckle at Link's possibly-faux anger. Well, really probably-faux anger, as Link doesn't sound so giggly when he's really peeved at something.

Sidon and Link then went back to dancing, and they danced just as beautifully as before. Yona and Khira were dancing as well, and they looked as beautiful as Link and Sidon as they slowly moved in each other's arms. Yona, Sidon, and Khira were definitely more graceful than Link, but Link was doing his best, and was still quite graceful all things considered. People were still staring at Link and Sidon, but the two could hardly care about anything other than their moves, steps, and each other. It's as though they were linked together with a thread at the heart and hands.

Link then tripped again, but this time it was on purpose. Once Sidon steadied him in his arms, Link was ready to put his plan into action. Link pulled Sidon's face in the last few centimeters and kissed him. Link kissed Sidon on the lips then and there. If their dancing already didn't cause a scandal, then this must have! Luckily, though, it was never more than a surprise to most Zora. The elderly Zora on the other hand were much more angry about this kiss, with them saying “Our King can't be gay!” and other such bullshit.

It was Sidon's turn to be embarrassed now, the King of the Zora's face becoming an almost as vivid red as his scales.

“Link! What was that for?!” Sidon asked.

“Payback,” Link simply retorted.

"Ah, well I guess I cannot find any flaws with that logic.”

Sidon then went to sit down with Link, so that he wouldn't faint.

Eventually, the ball was over, and everyone left the palace. Yona kissed Khira on the cheek before she left.

“Khira, thank you for dancing with me. I would happily dance with you again,” Yona said sweetly.

“No, thank you for dancing with me! It was a blast, Yona—and if you would like, I would happily think about courting you if King Sidon was fine with it,” Khira said in response.

“I'm sure that he would be fine with it. The only problem is that my father would raise the wrath of Ganon on us if he ever found out.”

“He would, so I must assume courting you will be for some other time.”

“Yes, it will be, but I cannot wait.”

With that, Khira left the palace, and Yona went to join Link and Sidon.

Sidon and Link didn't ask about anything, but they told Yona that they were proud of her for asking Khira to dance. The three eventually got back to the room that they shared. Sidon had a really comfortable water bed, and all three of them had to share it.

Link kicked off his shoes, changed into the undershirt of his Champion's Tunic and some comfortable trousers, and hopped into bed. Sidon and Yona took off their regalia before joining Link, as metal poking into your skin as you sleep isn't very comfortable. Link quickly started cuddling with Sidon, and Yona grabbed a book for her to read. Link made a few mumbled “Good night”s to Sidon and Yona before falling into the arms of slumber. Sidon very soon joined him, leaving Yona as the only one awake.

Yona couldn't help but think about Khira for several minutes before she fell asleep. Once she did, her dreams were filled with dreams of courting Khira and becoming her loving wife. Sidon, on the other hand, dreamt of the beautiful blond-haired Hylian in his arms.

[heresmyfiddlestick]

Friends, mutuals, countrymen, do not scroll past;

I come to cancel Caesar, not to stan him.

The cringe posts that men make live after them;

The nuance oft interred with their bones;

So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus

Hath told you Caesar was problematic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest--

For Brutus is an honourable man;

So are they all, all honourable men--

Come I to comment on Caesar’s call-out post.

He was my mutual, faithful and just to me:

But Brutus says he was problematic;

And Brutus is an honourable man.

He hath brought many hot takes to my dash

Whose notifs did the general discourse fill:

Did this in Caesar seem problematic?

When that anons have cried, Caesar hath wept:

Toxicity should be made of sterner stuff:

Yet Brutus says he was problematic;

And Brutus is an honourable man.

You all did see that on the Tumblr Blaze

I thrice presented him a kingly crown,

Which he did thrice refuse: was this problematic?

Yet Brutus says he was problematic;

And, sure, he is an honourable man.

I speak not to start discourse with Brutus,

But just to provide some context on his call-out post.

You all did stan him once, not without cause:

What cause withholds you then, to follow him?

[wolftheidioticfan]

IT WAS WAY TOO MUCH TO DO EVERYONE AT ONCE I JUST DID CHANCE'S CHARTS. IF YOU WANT OTHER CHARTS ASK FOR THEM. Anyways Chance's charts + generally the bosses....sorta. explained.

Boss relevance in ooorrder of Chance meeting them (all during story. I can talk about after story stuff later.)

EOC (eyeball object head humanoid guy in au :) ): Sore loser, originally showed up to scout out who Chance was since he sensed her in the world. Kicked the everloving shit out of her unprepared ass. Later summoned by her to fight since the Guide told her that in order to get stronger, this was a good start. LOST (SOMEHOW???) and became extremely bitter and a sore loser. Kept challenging Chance to duels to 'train' her himself. If he trained her, THEN he could justify losing. (Maybe likes her. maybe sends messengers to watch after her. Only a little.)

Pumpking: PUMPKIN MOON ISN'T PRE HARDMODE- alas, with the power of Extremely Unprepared Dumb Protag Disease...Chance got ahold of a medallion and accidentally summoned the pumpkin moon. Pumpking (often nicknamed King) decided to have fun with this new world, and after scaring the shit out of Chance, revealed that the towering multifaced jack-o-lantern...was just a disguise. A trick. He's actually no more than 3 feet tall. Then she didn't take him seriously and he may have killed her...seven times over. Huh, immortal. A hero? Hm. Hollowed out a dead mourning wood and decided to live around their town. Utterly annoying! Provides very little help if anything. Loves scaring the npcs.

Slime King (and the ninja) (still a fat slime): Accidentally summoned during a slime rain, very confused. No idea where it was and stumbled around for a while until Chance separated it from the Ninja. Slime King mostly is okay with Chance, but he also decided uhh this end of the world stuff is kind of Too Serious and stays out of it. The Ninja, however, helps EOC train Chance and is a total bud to her.

BOC (object head. very kingly. very weird): Met when Chance stumbled juuust a little too far into the Crimson while exploring. Chance, completely unprepared predictably died. But in shock, was not made apart of this hateful crimson world. Why is that? Eventually defeated with a lot of effort and told about the 'balance', and a cult trying to mechanically create a world ending disaster. Sigh. Assimilating this world would have to wait. Fine. He likes Chance, they challenge him in a way other things don't. She is. Scared shitless of this giant brain but appreciates his wit. If only he'd stop fighting with the EOW.

EOW (still a big worm <3): Met shortly after BOC's defeat and showed up to mock him. She was ALSO shortly defeated for threatening to eat up Chance's little town. Annoyed by this. But also doesn't want to just let something ELSE corrupt and destroy the world she'd been eating away at. Fine. Suppose we are 'allies' (mostly so she can hang around and annoy her rival)

Queen Bee (anthro bee lady!!): Defender of the jungle, protector of her kingdom of bees- Not dealing with an annoying human and her need to destroy half the jungle to 'save the world'. Kicked Chance to the curb around 3 times before settling on a deal. Chance would be more careful, replant more, and she would offer some weaponry.

Skeletron: A living cursed guardian aiming to protect the dungeon and keep its secrets. Not much for talking, but clearly sentient. After defeat (with the help of the Queen Bee's beenades), he mostly just...disappeared. Strange.

WOF: The Consumer, the bearer of the world's evil. The Guide's sacrifice to help Chance reveal the rest of the world, make it stronger and deadlier to brace herself for what was to come.

Queen Slime (still a funny fairy slime): Appeared after the Hallow was released to the world. Friendly, offered a lot of help should Chance prove herself more. It was a simple sparring, and she helped hunt down rarer ores and offered miniture slime mounts to make things easier (it didn't, but Chance won't say that to her)

The Twins (not mech in this <3 same as EOC): The EOC's younger, much louder and annoying brothers. They adored Chance (in only the way two guys who like to shoot you with lasers and bite you for fun can!) and love bothering her all the time. This whole thing is more of a joke to them than serious. Chance...Doesn't know what to do with them, honestly. They are pranksters and somehow even annoy King. How is that possible?

Skeletron Prime: N/A. A mechanical version of Skeletron brought forth by the cultists as distraction. Used later for parts.

Destroyer (big worm into a funny robot man): Also created by the cultists as distraction, but after being broken down, revealed some sentience and pain. Chance, feeling bad for the creature, took its 'brain' and parts and fashioned a new body for it. As thanks, it helps build for the town and provides defense for the NPCs while she's away.

Plantera (anthro plant): ...Awokened from too much destruction of nature. It seemed Chance never learned her lesson on breaking things you should not and awoke a bloodthirsty, rage filled plant. After defeat, Plantera mostly hangs around the jungle, replanting and defending it from anything that is deemed a threat. ...Even Chance, even after being defeated. They do not get along. The plant is too headstrong and insistent on being able to do everything herself in here after all. Always tells the terraforming 'hero' to piss off. Chance is...so tired.

Golem: N/A ancient machine the cultists activated to do destruction, but it had valuable loot and Chance thought it might have to do with their main plan and thus was destroyed.

Duke Fishron (anthro pig fish :): Who is this stuck up ass pig that showed up in town? Apparently, the Twins had to do with destroying his underwater home, so he demanded to stay here Or else. (chance found out that What Else was a lot of tornadoes and attacking. Of course). Selfish greedy guy, but a big brute and defensive of his new home. It works out. Chance just. Stays out of the way.

EOL: thought to be the very being that brought Chance here to this world, but it's merely a rumor. Upon capturing a beautiful little butterfly, it transformed into the empress, whom was impressed with Chance's perseverance. But, in order to gain enough power to defeat the Moonlord, her mettle would be tested. She is motherly, often chastising or keeping others out of danger around town. Truly believes in the 'Champion' of the world.

Lunatic Cultist: Forgotten his name long ago, it's hard to even tell if the mask isn't just his face at this point. Reviving the moonlord in search of wisdom, destruction, and his own way of returning balance. Turn all to ash and start from scratch. Little did he know, Moonlord would only aim to kill everything until nothing was left. Not just the 'plagues', but everything else as well. Bad natured, grumpy, and over all not well. Definitely saw some power he was Not Supposed to. Chance doesn't get this asshole's deal. Are You Kidding. YOU'RE bringing the danger, not fixing it.

Moonlord: Unknowable. Metal and Flesh. brought forth from cosmos not understood to rend this world and many others. Pure destruction and hate without reason. The thing that must be killed for good in order to keep this world and all others alive.

[docholligay]

Hot Sexy Free Purim Spiel

Hey y’all on tumblr who are Jews and Jew-adjacent

A few years ago, I took over the Purim stuff for my congregation, and I actually wrote my own spiel. I wasn’t happy with the free stuff they were pulling of the internet.

To that end, I was thinking today: Why do I not offer this up, as a free spiel?

So: If you want a copy of this spiel for your congregation, just hit me up in my ask box with your email address (remember it’s gotta be in hiimjewish AT jewmail DOT com for tumblr to let it through) and like, I dunno tell me something about yourself. I’ll get you as a reader on the google doc. Note that it’s a little light on some stage direction because I wrote this for me--I’ll be working on that and have it done at least for next year, if not this one.

My only ask is of course you not sell this, record it to be sold, etc, but I’m not concerned about that. Credit is nice but honestly I don’t care that much if Jews around the country/world know I wrote a series of Timely Jokes.

I REALLY want to hear if you use it though, because that would thrill me. Tell me people laughed, even if they didn’t.

Snippets in case the idea intrigues you:

Narrator: (In the style of a ring announcer) There are some who say he was the punishment for not putting the last Amalakite to the sword. Some say he’s the physical manifestation of the fact that anti-Semitism is always with us. And some people say, he was just a jerk. Ladies aaaaaaannnnndddddd gentlemen, the villain of tonight’s tale, HAAAAAMAAAAANNNNN! Booooo!!!

Haman enters through the back, really hamming it up, Ric Flair, Zoya the Destroyer style: *ad libbed* You love to hate me!  Oh, sad Jews, so cranky at me! Hahaha, I have the favor of the king, it doesn’t matter what you think!   

Xerxes: Haman! My beloved advisor. 

Haman: Yes, your Majesty, with shining locks and the body of a God, mellifluous voice echoing through the dreams of the people?

Xerxes: That’s what I like about you, Haman, always honest. Haman, *Throws an arm over his shoulder* Haman, we need entertainment. I’m thinking...I’m feeling something, calling in the air tonight. 

Haman:Oh lord…

Xerxes: What?

Haman: Wait thousands of years, your Majesty, you’ll get it. 

Xerxes: *Nods, swinging the wine bottle out toward the people* You know what these people would like to see tonight, Haman? 

Haman: I hear Hamilton is very big right now.

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

Contestant: I’m Mariska, I’m a Capricorn, I like long walks on the gulf, baking cookies, and doing whatever my husband says. 

Xerxes: *looking over at Haman* You know, Capricorns are just so bossy. I wonder if her moon is in Leo? 

Haman: Better not to risk it. Next!

Contestant two: I’m Megan, a preschool teacher--

Haman: Ugh, a woman of EDUCATION. 

Xerxes: You’re right, I don’t want a wife smarter than me. 

Haman: Next! 

Narrator: It’s easy to have rules for yourself, down on paper, but here in the real world, things get a lot trickier, once something, or someone, is before you. 

Esther: I’m Ha--Esther, and I enjoy cartography, reading, putting those little pearls in my hair for banquets. 

Xerxes: *Standing up* That’s it. She’s the one. 

Esther: I’m a Capricorn…

Haman: Not to ever doubt your judgment your Most High and Kingly but she said she loves to read, and you know those Capricorns…

Xerxes: What are you talking about? *swig* I’ve always loved Capricorns. Young lady! *He marches up the “stage” and puts the crowd on her head* You shall be my queen, and let it be known through ALL THE LAND, that we shall have ANOTHER great party, this very night!

---

Haman: God this is Vashti all over a---UGGGHHHHH!! You scrape to me, hit the dirt, right now. Or I’ll--THE KING SAID SO!

Mordechai: I answer to God, not to you, you little pischer. I have not bowed to any man, and I don’t intend to start now. 

Haman: And who is this God? 

Mordechai: Well, isn’t that the question? Some say God is the holy in all of us. Some say God is the traditions we have put together over the years, that bind our people. Some say God is a sacred bond--

Haman: No, no, what is the THING, your people WORSHIP? 

Mordechai: This is what I was explaining. How can there be only one idea, through so many people?

Haman: RAHHHH!!!!

Mordechai, unimpressed: We’re Jews, this is how we--

Haman: Jews! Thank you, that is what I was looking for, 

Mordechai: You know, Rabbi Akiva said that…

Haman: No, no, thank you, have a nice day, I’m going to murder all of your people now, goodbye. 

Narrator: Haman had no patience for details or debates, and maybe, if he accepted any counsel but his own, his story might not have ended where it did. Or maybe it would have anyhow, men like him are usually determined to ruin themselves. But we aren’t he to talk about what he might do, in some other story, but what he did in this one.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

i should emphasize, I did NOT write the original post, that was done by @heresmyfiddlestick and they get a cut of the sales from these prints.

I'm not sure how to format image IDs when they're this long so I hope this is right:

[image ID: A sheet of calligraphy print with gold and purple vinework and red daggerlike flowers. In the border there is a torn, purple lined bit of cloth meant to read as a toga and there it begins with a large drop capital F in red. the text reads as follows

Friends, mutuals, countrymen, do not scroll past;

I come to cancel Caesar, not to stan him.

The cringe posts that men make live after them;

The nuance oft interred with their bones;

So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus

Hath told you Caesar was problematic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest–

For Brutus is an honourable man;

So are they all, all honourable men–

Come I to comment on Caesar’s call-out post.

He was my mutual, faithful and just to me:

But Brutus says he was problematic;

And Brutus is an honourable man.

He hath brought many hot takes to my dash

Whose notifs did the general discourse fill:

Did this in Caesar seem problematic?

When that anons have cried, Caesar hath wept:

Toxicity should be made of sterner stuff:

Yet Brutus says he was problematic;

And Brutus is an honourable man.

You all did see that on the Tumblr Blaze

I thrice presented him a kingly crown,

Which he did thrice refuse: was this problematic?

Yet Brutus says he was problematic;

And, sure, he is an honourable man.

I speak not to start discourse with Brutus,

But just to provide some context on his call-out post.

You all did stan him once, not without cause:

What cause withholds you then, to follow him?

/.End ID]

shit shit shit it's march i forgot to promote this print to yall:

read it carefully lol it's the callout of Caesar

[isabel-cousland]

Modified DA:O Game Canon

The Landsmeet

Before the Landsmeet, Isabel tells Anora that Alistair wants Loghain dead and that she’s not going to stand in the way of that since he didn’t stand in the way of her revenge with Howe. It’s not the best political move on her part (she should really know better since she’s very good with this stuff), but she’s not exactly thinking straight throughout the whole Landsmeet. Naturally, Anora rightfully sides with her father in the Landsmeet, and her vote ends up breaking a tie between the nobles.

Loghain calls for Isabel, Alistair, and Eamon’s executions for treason, a fight breaking out as they try to defend themselves until the Grand Cleric proposes a duel. Alistair and Loghain duel and Alistair just barely manages to win and is completely ready to kill Loghain. When Riordan proposes that Loghain join the Wardens, Isabel agrees, and Alistair claims the throne because he sees it as the only way to get justice for Duncan.

Isabel pulls him aside to speak privately, and they get into an argument. Isabel believes Riordan is right and that they need Loghain. She tells Alistair that it’s what Duncan would do, and that killing Loghain won’t bring Duncan back, that she’s doing this to protect him, etc. Alistair threatens to leave, and Isabel snaps at him and tells him that he can’t because Anora would have him killed (I am fully aware you can convince her to let him live, but Isabel doesn’t know this at the time because again, she’s not thinking straight thanks to the threat on Alistair’s life). He gets even more angry and snaps back at her, saying he’s stuck taking the throne and that it’s better off that way because he’s not going to be a Warden with Loghain.

Eamon interrupts them, because they’re standing there arguing like children in front of the entire Landsmeet, and he says that the matter is settled and that Alistair will be taking the throne since he won the duel and all that. Alistair makes his speech, Anora is imprisoned (she is released after the Blight and is given Gwaren), and Loghain goes off with Riordan to go through the Joining.

The Landsmeet disperses and Eamon drags Alistair away to discuss kingly things. Afterwards, Alistair finds Isabel and tells her that Eamon’s troops left for Redcliffe and that he’s going to remain in Denerim since he’s stuck being the king now. They end up arguing some more–she says he can’t just leave the Wardens and that he can’t leave her, he’s super pissed and accuses her of some pretty bad things–and Alistair essentially breaks up with her.

Isabel is devastated and ends up crying herself to sleep in Wynne’s arms that night. Wynne gives Alistair a stern talking to about how he’s making an epic mistake and that he was foolish to throw away what they had just because he disagreed with what she did–which was to protect him in the first place. Alistair ends up going along with them to Redcliffe, claiming that if he’s going to be king he has to be with his troops, when in reality Wynne’s words got to him and he’s just not ready to stop being angry yet.

After all the time on the road between Denerim and Redcliffe, he comes to understand why Isabel did what she did, even if he doesn’t like it and doesn’t want anything to do with Loghain. They make up and he ends up awkwardly proposing to her: Isabel makes sure that he’s really okay with being king and he says he’s good. He mentions that Eamon babbled about finding him a suitable queen and that all he could think about was marrying her even though he was royally pissed off at her.

So there you have it, Alistair ends up as king and Isabel eventually marries him and becomes queen, and Loghain is still alive and a Warden.

Witch Hunt

When Isabel hears whispers that a woman matching Morrigan’s description has appeared again, she has her spies gather as much information as they can about the mysterious woman.

When she’s positive it’s Morrigan, she asks Nathaniel Howe to search for her. She had previously named him Warden-Commander after the events of Awakening, and since she’s stuck in Denerim ruling with Alistair, she needed someone she trusted to look for her, and that person was Nathaniel.

Nathaniel keeps Isabel informed of everything he finds as he searches for Morrigan.

Before she enters the Eluvian and disappears, Morrigan ends up quickly stopping by the palace to see Isabel one last time. She informs her about the Eluvian, Flemeth, etc., and Isabel says goodbye to her friend, thanking her for everything she’s done for her before Morrigan finally leaves.

Dragon Age: Inquisition

She does not “vanish.” When Morrigan resurfaces and contacts her about a lead on a possible cure to the Calling, she sends Nathaniel Howe to search for it. (It’s the same situation as in Witch Hunt: he’s still technically a Warden since he’s the Warden-Commander and she trusts him with such a matter. She’s also extremely busy in Denerim ruling with Alistair and trying to keep the country together as the world is starting to fall apart, so she can’t afford to leave for a lead that might not work out.)

Cassandra does contact her about leading the Inquisition before she interrogates Varric about Hawke's whereabouts, but Isabel declines the offer. She can’t afford to leave Denerim for that long, and it wouldn’t be good for the Queen of Ferelden to be the head of a Chantry organization. 

Shortly before Inquisition begins, she and Alistair start to hear the false Calling—it terrifies them, until they learn it’s not real.

She accompanies Alistair to Redcliffe and they meet the Inquisitor after In Hushed Whispers. While there, she and Alistair also question Fiona about the cure to the Calling.

Isabel gets the Inquisition in contact with Loghain for Here Lies the Abyss through Leliana, and actually goes to Loghain in order to help him and find out why she lost contact with him for so long. She’s actually in Crestwood when the Inquisitor and her companions show up with Hawke to question Loghain, and ends up running around Crestwood with them for a bit.

Isabel and Alistair contact the Inquisition for help when they believe the Venatori have a presence inside the palace, and one of Leliana’s agents helps drive them out (the Shadows Over Denerim war table operation). Afterwards, they send Fereldan troops to Skyhold to assist the Inquisition.

Isabel, Alistair, and Celene send representatives to the peace talks in Jader, where a temporary peace agreement is signed (the Delicate Negotiations war table operation). They all meet in person at Skyhold after Corypheus is defeated, where they agree to an official peace treaty between Ferelden and Orlais.

[silver-athena]

Things that could've happened if Lancer was in on the secret

Short conversations between Ghost King!Danny and in the know!Lancer

Mr Lancer had found out a while ago that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom when he saw him transform, not that Danny really cared, it was his senior year and he was already so over the whole secret identity thing.

He was tired, overworked, and a king.

He could care less about his identity.

But having his teacher know about his… extracurricular activities had already proved to be much more lucrative than he first thought.

“A ghost ate my homework,” Danny said, completely serious as he looked at Mr Lancer.

“Which one?” the teacher asked, the poor guy, he had probably been teaching for eons now, and yet Danny didn’t doubt that he got the slot of ‘worst student I’ve ever had to teach’.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him just a tiny bit proud.

“A blob ghost, it accidentally swallowed my work, if you still want to see it, here you go.” Danny placed the ectoplasm-covered paper in front of his teacher, wincing at the loud squelch it made as it hit the table, but otherwise not saying much.

Mr Lancer just sighed before waving him off, accepting that this was how it was going to be.

“I accidentally froze my school work while fighting yesterday's ghost,” Danny said, handing in his homework, frozen completely solid.

“Thank you for saving the city,” was all Mr Lancer said, accepting the homework and putting it in the microwave.

“So let me get this straight, you can’t make it to school tomorrow, because you have to go to court?” Mr Lancer asked, ignoring the incredulous looks his fellow teachers shot him as he pressed the phone closer to his ear.

“I know this is super inconvenient, but it’s really important,”

“At least tell me you’ve done nothing wrong,” he said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Not this time!” he could hear the grin on Danny’s face, “But I’m kinda like a judge in the ghost realm, so,”

Great.

One of his students was a judge.

In the ghost world.

Just great.

“No,” Mr Lancer said.

“Oh come on!” Danny whined.

“No,” he reiterated.

“They’ll be no trouble, I swear,” Danny promised.

“I won’t let Johnny 13 and Kitty sit in on one of my classes,”

“But they’re super nice! And Kitty really loves this literature stuff, don’t you want a student who actually listens?”

“...fine, but just this once!”

“Mr Lancer, I just got a call saying that two kingdoms are about to fight, may I take care of that?” Danny asked, grinning as he ignored his classmates staring at him.

“Not if it’s the Dragon kingdom,” Mr Lancer said, not fazed at all as he continued to read.

“It’s the Far Frozen and the medieval one,”

“Still no,”

Danny sighed, sulking as he slid down in his seat, pointedly ignoring Mr Lancer for the rest of the lesson.

“We need to borrow Fenton,” Skulker said, already grabbing Danny by the arm.

“Can it wait till the break?” Mr Lancer wasn’t even worried as the rest of the students stared wide-eyed.

“I’m afraid not, kingly duties and all,”

“Fine, but bring him back before the end of the school day,”

“No promises,”

“You can’t just… not go to school for a week due to ghost stuff,”

“Day of the dead is a whole thing Mr Lancer! We need at least a week to prepare for it,” Danny argued.

“Can’t they do it without your help?”

“I’m kinda the king, it’s pretty important for me to be there, I have final say and all,”

“...fine, but I expect a written essay about it, four pages, at least,”

“You’re the best!”

“Danny, please take off your crown, you’re distracting your classmates,”

“Sorry,”

“You’re late,”

“I’m dead,”

“Why didn’t you do your homework?”

“I died,”

“You-”

“Dead!”

“You can’t just use the fact that you’re dead as an excuse for everything,”

“Wow, insensitive much, I literally died dude,”

[travelling-on-the-octopath]

Can I just say... Claude updating his nickname from Your Princeliness to Your Kingliness for Dimitri... acting like a tsundere telling Dimitri that he's late when five minutes ago Claude was telling Judith that Dimitri came right on time... giving Dimitri his family heirloom weapon to help him achieve his dreams... promising to meet Dimitri again in the future... very good. Much to think about.

You absolutely CAN say, because Claude makes his tsundere nonsense even clearer when a unit talks to him

Like...okay Claude we get it. Everyone gets to know how thankful you are BUT the guy you pleaded to for help 😭. And his voice acting in Japanese when he and Dimitri clash at Gronder? Genuinely feels so distraught to me. Like we get so few moments in the game where Claude is angry, yet being put in a position of making enemies with Dimitri because he won't listen to reason (or the developers couldn't grow a backbone and outright say the other countries united against the Empire, because then Empire Bad 😒) frays his calm and he gets heated. Claude! Getting heated! That says a lot about how he is around Dimitri.

And, I think, Failnaught is the only relic from outside of your recruits that you're forced to get in canon. (The Lance of Ruin is a toss-up depending on what choices you make.) There is literally nothing you can do in this game outside losing that prevents Claude from giving you...checking my notes--the country he's in charge of, the physical manifestation of his claim to Fódlani lineage, and the power over his long-held ambitions.

Which is what takes me to what you mentioned: that Claude really does place a lot of the future, the thing he fights for every day, in Dimitri's hands, and does it because he knows Dimitri wants to and can do right by the people of Fódlan. This entire fucking chapter, cover to cover, is literally the character who wants to trust the most (yet ends up trusting the least) putting his faith in a man who most find themselves eager to put their trust in. And he does it completely willingly! He sees this man who's just "snatched him from the jaws of death" and he's like...'Yeah let me put him in charge of one half of my dream. That makes sense 🥰.' He fully believes that when, ahem, King Khalid asks for an audience with the King of Fódlan, he'll be met with a man who wants to see his world come to being. The only other person he puts that much faith in regarding his ambitions, if I recall correctly, is Byleth, and they're imbued with fucking player powers of importance out the ass. Stuff like that is what really makes me lose it (in a very good way) over Claude because he has such a good heart and such an interesting way of going about showing it, in contrast to Dimitri who has a good heart and doesn't know how NOT to show it.

Just. Just these two. They plague my thoughts daily.

[mosh-rem]

Danny is the ancient of space.

Nasa Director:Let me get this right your existence is illegal so you're supposed to turn yourself into the government for containment?

Danny:Ya apparently dieing and coming back is against the laws, so I figured why not go to the ou agency that's not gunna turn me into soup or a weapon.

ND:Good point, slaps a helmet on Danny, their now you're contained. Now back to what you were saying what's you payload capacity and what are your living or unloving needs

Danny: I'm not sure I can lift a school bus easy so atleast 30ton probably more. I won't be as fast as a rocket but once I'm out of atmo I get a power boost. And for your second bit, keep me around space stuff and feed me the same as a person and I'll be fine. Ooo I forgot to mention, turns into kingly form with a cloak cut from the cosmos, I'm kinds the embodiment of space now so I can clean up all that space junk if you want, or help y'all study extra planetary objects, creates a small star in his hand, along as it's space related I can probably help.

ND:Yup you are now Nasa property, let's get you some lodging I'm pretty sure one of the suites we have astronauts stay in during training is open.

Danny has found his people they don't mind if he blathers on about space no matter what he talks about. He gets to work with astronauts and they said he counts as one too! Hes never been happier! Until the giw show up

Agent W:We've heard that your agency is harboring an ecto-entity were here to contain it and arrest all involved with hiding him from the law.

Here's the thing due to Danny within a month Nasa has been able to put up 4 new telescopes and retrofit the older ones to last another 10 years.

ND:You're telling me that you want to take project Danny from us? The being that single handedly reinvigorated our whole program and has saved us millions in just a few months? Not gunna happen, he's contain by a government agency just like your laws require.

Agent W:We're here to take it wether you like it or not step aside or you will be arrested for interference.

ND:Wanna know somthing neat? Due to Danny we got our hands on nuclear pasta, now I'm not going to expect some bumbling idiot what that is so let me tell you. It's the most dense thing in existence besides you or a black hole.. Funny thing really when not contained in a special feild or under immense gravitational forces it likes to decompress with a force to make the Tsar Bomba look like a fucking bubble! You even look at our little rocket boy and I will bot only throw you into the containment feild but I will ensure every single office and agent you have gets a fun surprise from their buddies at Nasa. Don't fucking try me that boy is the best thing to happen to this agency since the JL confirmed aliens exist, and we will ensure that he is safe.

Agent W:You can't do that, and even if you had that pasta stuff we'd stop it befor it did anything.

ND: WE ARE THE ONES THAT THE AIRFORCE GOES TO WHEN THEY WANT NEW TOYS, WE WILL EXPRESS SHIP YOU A CRATER THE SIZE OF THE YELLOWSTONE CALDERA! I SAY AGAIN DO NOT TEST ME!

DPXDC Prompt #100

In the anti ecto acts it states that all ecto entities must be given to a government agency but it doesn’t say which agency. Danny after the nasty burger incident decides to take advantage of this fact and gives himself up to the justice league. The Justice league doesn’t know how to handle the teenage ghost that showed up one day and said he was turning himself into a government agency.