#maybe i'll write that post canon of them going to an escape room

[luxhesperus]

IT'S REALLY ALL ABOUT THE FRIENDS WE MADE ALONG THE WAY, ISN'T IT?

THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN AN EXTRA OF THEM CAMPING

"People who wanted to be together would never miss it again." // "However, being able to spend this life with the people they cherished was very precious, no matter how ordinary."

I AM IN TEARS 🥹 FOUND FAMILY STRIKES AGAIN

i can't believe i've finally finished card room 🥹 i started reading this on october 20 and read the last extra earlier 😭 i feel a little greedy wanting one more extra where they all just get together and go to an escape room and then dinner afterwards 😔

[dandylovesturtles]

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

[my-smial]

9 people you'd like to get to know better

tagged: @agapantoblu

Thank you, Agap, for tagging me! I like doing these things and I always need to do more things <3

tagging: @mornyavie, @rauwyn, @gender-trash, @melancholy--lion, @fandomreferencepending, @thewomanwhobloggedlikeaman, @blankerthought, @in-the-mists, @grundyscribbling, @sous-le-saule, @ainawgsd, and anyone else who wants to do it!

three non romantic duos:

Hmm, this one's tough. There's always a lot going on, so I could name sooo many characters. It would be harder to stop naming duos, so I'll choose a few media that have been particularly relevant to my life lately. Just know there are so many more. Every pairing from The Circle of Magic, for a start.

1. Percy de Rolo & Keyleth. I'm writing this while watching the Legend of Vox Machina TV show, so I decided to choose one of them. Ever since the first episode of both the show and the podcast, I enjoyed how these two bring out fun sides of each other. They're close, they love each other, and they relax around each other as they do around very few people. Even with their respective romantic pairings in the show - those are more fraught and intense. Percy and Keyleth always feel like they're having fun when they pair up.

2. Aaron & Andrew Minyard. Man!!! All for the Game has taken up my dash for months now, so I had to choose one pairing. I will choose the twins, because I can. I want them to like each other. I devour any fic I can find about them slowly blossoming their relationship over the post-grad years.

3. Wirt & Greg, from Over the Garden Wall. It's rewatch season! I love these two, and I enjoy the way they are brothers first and always. In particular, my favorite moment is when Greg, who is on the surface level scene more thoughtless and random, actively chooses Wirt over himself. He's offered to escape and chooses uncertainty instead to save Wirt and it's incredible. He is more thoughtful than a surface-level viewing would indicate.

a ship that might surprise others: mmm. Hm. This is hard. I don't really come up with non-canon ships often, and I am generally very normie when I do. I have non-canon hot takes like "Leverage OT3 is awesome" (that's a joke). So I'd say my most "surprising" ship is probably from Fullmetal Alchemist. I am firmly of the opinion that Ed and Winry should break up so she can follow her true love for Paninya, the mechanic girl with two metal legs from the baby episode. THEY ARE MEANT TO BE. Or maybe we can do fun polyamory! Winry has two hands.

last song: Come Out Ye Black and Tans by Colm McGuinness, specifically the rock version. Although I was listening to the regular and rock versions back-to-back on repeat. For Reasons.

last film: KNEECAP. I've listened to the band for a while and LOST IT when I found out they made a biopic and it was playing near me. Somehow I missed all the advertising until I randomly looked at a theater schedule??? Extremely funny being the rap fan in what felt like a room full of people there because of the Sundance win. I was honestly preparing to not like the film because Biopic Drama is not my genre, but oh boy was it not that. It was so fun. I was dancing and singing in my seat.

I loved their laissez-faire approach to whether this is a "true" story and the constant energetic thread their music pulled through the movie. It was a riot. As a bilingual film it felt very natural, clearly informed by people who actually live their lives bilingually - slipping in and out of languages happened logically, and the band walked a fun line between "suck it up and read the subtitles" and "99% of our audience doesn't speak this language or know this particular struggle, let's explain a few things in our own way."

Only thing I didn't like is that it's far more vulgar than I normally enjoy, but you know. I listen to KNEECAP on purpose. I knew what it would be like going in, it would honestly be disappointing if KNEECAP chose to clean themselves up for Hollywood. I actively chose to shut off that part of my brain during viewing, and it was a great time. Just know before choosing to view that the Trainspotting references are earned, and I can give you more detail if you want to go watch.

currently reading: The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson. I started it last year but didn't have the spare brainpower for such a complicated story - I got sick of keeping track of the POV swaps. But I did like the worldbuilding, so I eventually picked it back up and it's going much better this time around. For me, this is one of those books that I've been told to read so many times that I knew I would get around to it eventually.

currently watching: Actively on Season 3, Episode 11 of The Legend of Vox Machina TV show. Episode 12 is starting, time to wrap up.

currently consuming: Kimchi hash browns with eggs. Delicious.

currently craving: My fellowship application to get back to me please why does this take you so long.

This was really fun, thank you Agap!

[chloe-caulfield94]

Would Max be the one to propose marriage, or would it be Chloe?

In Season 1 Chloe expressed romantic interest in Max on multiple occasions, but she initially did it in a way that could be explained away as goofing around if Max didn't reciprocate. "Maybe you made a move on me and I don't know", "fuq that, let's elope", "I dare you to kiss me". She probably did it like that because her greatest fear is that of being rejected.

But she also made a series of declarations that were more straightforward. Your powers might not last? "That's okay, we will - forever". "I'm never leaving you". I guess those could be seen as vows of best friendship. But when she says "nobody is good enough for you - except me", straight after discussing the dating pool in Blackwell with Max, the romantic implications cannot be escaped.

In Episode 5 at the beach Chloe says that she and Max are "meant to be together". After Max refuses to sacrifice her, she says "Max, I'll always be with you". That does sound like something you would say as part of a marriage proposal.

So while Chloe was initially hesitant to voice her feelings towards Max, she quickly finds her courage. And she doesn't have any qualms about letting the world know how she feels. She tells mr Jefferson that she will be "Max's date" at the party. And when Max accepted her dare, Chloe texted Warren that he's now out of the loop.

So would she be the one to pop the question? The only arguement against that I see is the possibility of Chloe feeling unworthy or like a burden to Max following the storm, which would prevent her from taking such a momentous step unless Max clearly expressed the desire to do so first.

I adore the LiS comics and I personally consider them to be "canon" as much as the games. The comics shows that while both Max and Chloe feel the weight of what happened and Chloe misses her mother, they are moving forward in time. Chloe works as a car mechanic (turns out David, she can have the skills without losing the attitude) and she picks up scultping as a hobby. Somewhat surpisingly, she seems to be the main breadwinner in her relationship with Max, who is just starting to get her career as a freelance photographer off the ground. And in my personal favourite moment, Chloe says to Max "I'm through feeling like I wasn't worthy of your choice". When Max is struggling with guilt and "flickers" of other possible worlds, Chloe is consoling her, returning the love and care Max showed her in Season 1. Post-storm Chloe seems to be looking forward and making plans for the future. So I see no reason why she wouldn't propose making their love official.

Having said all that, I think it would be Max who would propose.

Max might be initially slow to pick up what Chloe is putting down, but when she does see the writing on the wall, she goes all in. Every time she emerges from a time jump, she exclaims Chloe's name and runs to hug her. When she's fighting to break free from the dark room and uses her selfie to go back to Jefferson's classroom on Monday, she says "It doesn't matter what happens to me. I have to save Chloe". When she's in the art gallery and learns that the storm hit Arcadia Bay, her first thought is "Chloe can't die". She throws away the "perfect" timeline without a moment's hesitation, ripping her award-winning photo: "Chloe comes first".

Max very clearly realizes her feelings and it is reflected in her internal monologue. But she's also not shy to express her love outwardly.

At the beach in Episode 5, Max says that she always wanted her life to be special, an adventure. "But not without you". At the lighthouse she adds "You are my number one priority. You are all that matters to me now". Doesn't that sound like a proposal? A beatifully put proposal I might add.

Seeing that Max quickly realizes how much Chloe means to her, that she has no problem expressing her feelings and that she's more than capable of grand gestures of love, my money is on her proposing.

The question remains: Would she get down on her knee? Given that Chloe is noticeably taller even when they are both on their feet, that would probably look funny, but very, very adorably.

[versegm]

Also gimme the deets on Theatre AU!!

Oh BOY this is gonna be a long one. I am incapable of making a normal modern au i NEED these bitches to be freaks in some way I literally can't help it.

The cape Castoria finds is meant to be Saber's cape! The relationship between Castoria & anime girl king arthur would be way too long to explain in thsi post, but they're connected so I figured it would make a cute easter egg.

I considered having Castoria freeload below the deck instead, because I've personally never played in a theater that had storage rooms above deck, but I really wanted to keep the Phantom Of The Opera vibe so I just went fuck it.

Love my girl Castoria who is a paranoid little rat constantly looking for the closest escape route <3

I have no idea how to write Oberon I just imitated Herlock's speech pattern and crossed my fingers

Gray is in fact a different Fate character! the tl;dr of Gray is that she's a regular-ass human, but unfortunately she was born in a weird arthuriana cult, which lead to her body slowly turning into that of king arthur. She has issues with her face a lot because like, if your face shifted to become that of a perfect stranger wouldn't that be fucked up. Coincidentally, Castoria also has king arthur's face, though for arguably less angsty reasons.

The Night of Wallachia is another nasuverse character (technically from Melty Blood rather than any fate work tho.) I will redirect you to Lance's post as to whomst this man is though because I have yet to play Melty Blood myself.

Moly is a plant from Homer's Odysseus btw

Deep fucking sigh I fucking wish. I fucking wish we had more stories about the aftermath of isekai adventures, my man. I want to know what's it like to see someone with medieval wartime reflexes who just refuses to talk about shit. Anyways the entire Guda subplot is just me not being normal about isekais, as per usual.

So this scene was originally a lot longer, with Guda tricking Castoria into giving a lot more personal information (exact date of birth, last name) and ending with them taking a group selfie- all info they can use later on to forge her ID. But it was kinda boring so I just went the "Guda forges papers by winging it and she can't call them out on it without admitting that her own living situation is garbage" route.

Didn't put nearly as much foreshadowing as I would have liked, but it's meant to be a hint of "hey maybe Castoria straight-up created Oberon, cuz how else would he know so much about her?"

Castoria is so fucking gender.

You probably saw me posting about it, but Guda's canon age in fgo is kinda nebulous. At the beginning of the game they are definitely "below the drinking age," but it's mentioned/implied a couple times later on that no one knows how old they are now (I think Vritra? Has a voice line along the lines of "oh you don't drink because you don't know how old you are so you're just being safe by assuming it's below 21? ok") What time travel and time loops and being locked outside of time does to a mf.

The Guda-Castoria-Oberon banter is a fucking joy to write. Bitches who keep teaming up to dunk on the third one.

This bit was inspired by my sister, who has collected all six of her chairs on the streets.

SO FUNNY STORY. I didn't actually ship Castoria/Oberon going in. But like. There was no reason for me not to include them having weird sexual tension, especially considering I was gonna do that with GudaCas and ObeGuda. So I was like whatever I'll keep it ambiguous but I'm not closing any doors. And then like a fool I tricked myself into liking it. I literally never fucking learn.

Ultra mega shout out to my cosplayer friend for their extensive knowledge of how to make fantasy armor.

The Luik festival is in fact a real-life music festival.

Lance was the one to point out that in a way the theater au is a role reversal from canon. In canon, Castoria and Oberon are both painfully aware of what they are and what they need to do, while Guda is increasingly unsure as to what they want and why they want it. Meanwhile here Oberon and Castoria are desperately grasping at any hint as to what is wrong with them, while Guda is crystal-clear on their singular goal of "I need to get the fuck out of here."

I keep forgetting that sexual attraction is a thing so I tried to pay attention to it for once. Hope I didn't overdo it.

Something something you have to let go of your past or you will only end up hurting the people who are in your life now.

When you learn that your friend has been on a path of self-destruction and you are directly to blame bottom text.

I think I already said it, but my original outline was for the three of them to have incredibly violent sex post fight, and then an extra chapter of "mh. Perhaps we should talk about things actually." I remember I wanted the dialogue to go along those lines:

Guda: ok so maybe we should talk about things actually

Oberon: not talking about things worked just fine for us until now

Castoria: it literally did not

Oberon: cranky because hatesex is so much better than regular sex aren't you

Castoria: I wouldn't know, only ever had one of those two

Guda: wait, shit, was that your first time? Oh my fucking god. what the fuck. let me give you an actual proper kiss instead of whatever the fuck this was. Oberon, you kiss her too.

I rewatched a bit of lb6 for unrelated reasons recently and I'd. Completely forgotten that when they reunite with Mash at the end of part one they do in fact act like that.

Quote from the lesson of the moth!

Wanted to make it reminiscent of their first meetings, with Guda also dragging them through a door.

So yeah, that's my self indulgence! I had a lot of fun writing it :) I love... isekais.

[mcalhenwrites]

For what it's worth, I want to read your writing! lack of audience can really get to a writer but I feel sometimes one needs to be reminded of why they write? Are you writing for yourself or to please strangers, which I get is obviously important for motivation and as a professional worker but I guess what I'm trying to say is don't be too down about it. I appreciate your hard work and amazing stories.

For what it's worth, I want to read your writing! Thank you, anon, that means a lot to me!

I agree with "write for yourself", because you'll never please other people/have to select who you want to please, and that's never going to end well. You can't please everyone. I used to be in the Tales series fandom, and I'd have mixed feelings about some of the games that contradicted the way others felt. I liked some of the lesser known/older games for the same reasons people hated them. So as a creator, you have to think about what feels right to yourself. It's good advice, but I have seen it taken out of context. (For the record, I don't see that happening here, because you do clarify that it's harder when you're stepping into the profession. I'll get into that in a minute, if that's okay!)

That said, I think there needs to be a distinction between writing and sharing. Writing is a process for myself, but the career aspect is stressful and straining and honestly feels hopeless most days. I hate the idea that every single part of a story needs to be about the plot, because the formulaic ways of the publishing industry don't work for every story, every writer. I think the existence of fanfic is proof enough of that, actually! So many of us love fics that cover what might have happened behind the scenes or just… we'll read fifteen different stories of the same tropes for a single ship. And tbh, I think a lot of writers - including myself - really prefer to have more canon included than the publishing industry has room for.

I'm trying to find a middle balance, personally. I want to share! I'm an avid reader, and if no one had shared, what would I have read growing up? Plus the want of financial stability, which is pressure I sincerely despise. I'd happily share everything for free if I had $100k-$120k a year for the rest of my life so I could have my house, healthcare, 3-5 cats, garden, video games, and home library. xD

Sharing is actually pretty difficult for me. I barely showed anyone my work until I was in my mid-twenties. I started writing stories down at age seven. I'm now in my thirties. But sharing is something I want to do and it doesn't get easier after all this time of trying to spread my work. Past the perfectionism (I am definitely working on this and have already made improvements) and the history of bullying I've had over my writing (of which there's been a lot). Overcoming all of that is tough. Which means I feel a little extra sensitive to the idea that if something of mine isn't getting traction, it's confirmation of all the times someone mocked my writing or vaguetweeted by a BNF to make fun of fics I'd just posted. And while I'm starting to realize that some of that likely comes from jealousy - not necessarily that I'm a great writer that poses a threat, but just that my writing means that I might take attention from them in the fandom (which is not how that works) - it's still so hard to stop thinking, "What if they were right?" when I don't get any or very few likes/reblogs or kudos/comments, etc.

I have worked very hard to be a better writer, thinking I could escape that. Now I'm beginning to recognize that that hard work has paid off, but I was also never as bad as everyone made me feel (including myself). I want to keep working hard, because my standards for myself are high.

My writing makes me so happy, I can't describe how much. So even through all the pain above? I still do it. I just think that maybe there needs to be more separation between writing and the results of that ever reaching the public eye. (Most of my writing doesn't. I write a lot. XD)

Sorry to get a little real there. And so lengthy, ugh! I never can say things briefly.

Thank you for reading out, though, and thank you for reading my writing. There are more people reading my works than I know, but sometimes I fear that I'm the only one who will want what I'm making.

I've had IRL and health issues bringing me down too, which overlapped with stressing out over the editing of the next chapter of the story I've been posting. That chapter wasn't making me happy, so I'm taking a break, ignoring it a few days, and going back with fresh eyes later. So that all was knocking down my mood, and seeing only one person comment on the latest chapter, I was like, "Oh, maybe I'm just making a big old mess of this story"… perhaps because I see the mess in my head? Every possible path I threw out, every scene I want to write but won't fit in the story, every part I feel is lacking, every bit of character and world info, etc. Is that translating into something coherent on the page, I wonder, and… it's a lot to think about.

Sorry for TL;DR on this answer, and again: thank you. ;A;

[eggs-can-draw]

you: Ok but what if v3 was actually broadcasted me: they would not livestream it to the public, not with their name attached to it, at least you: They use Junko’s old twitch account “How did you even get the password for that???” “Tsumugi is very dedicated” me: but I still feel like they'd want to keep it secret & maybe reveal it if they succeeded, maybe still keep their method secret, because they don't want people to know if they fuck it up, but even more immediately, they don't want people to believe they failed to protect the Ultimates in the meantime Yin: oooo and this is how the parents learn what's happening to their kids! they didn't broadcast the other 49 but they broadcasted this one! "you used MY SON AS A BACKUP SHUICHI?!?!?! and made him PARTICIPATE IN 49 OTHER KILLING GAMES?!?!!" you: And even then if things go too terribly they could easily just blame it on the remnants me: the Remnants they have supposedly taken down during DR3? you: “Oh noooooo the remnants escaped and kidnapped some kids! In their desperate attempt to appease the late Junko they recreated her killing game with these innocent NHPA students!” me: if they blame the fanatic stragglers it makes them seem useless, if they blame the main RoDs it reveals a previous cover-up, if they claim the project as theirs there'll be huge backlash and then doubled, tripled when it doesn't even succeed. I assumed "taken down" means killed. you: They can be vague if it fits the story me: but why would they want to make it public from the start? it causes those complications for them you: Don’t worry about it guys (I don't think I'll listen to that)

firedemongaming: The irony that they tried to make Shuichi the ultimate hope and had Rantaro as a back-up, but neither of them were actually the ones to become the ultimate hope, it was canonically Kii-bo

Nanami anon: “The Remnants of Despair are not a threat anymore” [16 years later] “So um. About the Remnants of Despair…” One overworked PR employee sobbing in the background

Yin: to show off "LOOK WE MADE A NEW ULTIMATE HOPE!" "and how did you do that?" "uhhh no comment" me: that's what would happen if they only made a reveal after succeeding, otherwise people will know HOW and that's an issue Yin: shrug maybe they livestreamed accidentally instead of video lol me: just. accidentally making a several weeks long stream without realizing you:Oopsie woopsie someone accidentally hit start stream

firedemongaming: Branch 14 is PR, Branch 14 is the branch naegirigami belongs to. The pr team is definitely not helping them this time XD I was explaining what branch 14 is in canon. I'm aware Byakuya and Kyoko aren't in it anymore in the AU. Doesn't change the fact that they pissed off their PR team AND their mascot Nanami anon: The project heads poached one (1) member of branch 14 to help with this. It’s not going well Yin: ......they purposely pissed off their PR team? lol me: the person, supposed to click "record" got distracted by seeing Makoto trip, clicked stream instead Nanami anon: … midway through V3 Makoto hosts a press conference since they kicked him out of the observation room. The FF is FUCKED

firedemongaming: Is it the eggman callout post of shadow? Nanami anon: Makoto: I'M WRITING A CALLOUT ON MY TWITTER DOT COM firedemongaming: 'BUT I'M GOING HIGHER! I'M PISSING ON THE MOOOOOOON!' you: “I'VE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT THE FUTURE FOUNDATION IS FULL OF BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKERS”

firedemongaming: long story short. FF is overthrown. The people try to install Makoto as emperor. Makoto has to quickly find legitimate reasons to convince them not to. Byakuya is just in the background 'do it coward' Yin: Makoto: I appoint my husband as emperor as I think he can do it better than I can Togami: oh I know I can do it better firedemongaming: 'i know I can do it better. But I'm not about to steal the glory from you. I'm more than happy to be a shadow ruler from the sidelines' Yin: Makoto: I don't want the glory! I want to be a house husband! you do it! me: Togami proceeds to dismantle FF into several smaller organizations with less power to avoid that shit happening ever again, like, sorry, but we can't have one organization that's above the law and does whatever they want because they're saviors if society is ever to properly recover firedemongaming: 'instead we'll install this one family that's above the law and does whatever they want because their family heads are saviours' me: no, no, he doesn't stay as the leader of all of them firedemongaming: I was making a joke about the emperor bit

... but I still think about the logic of immediately trying to fill up the position of absolute power when it's being taken down, why is this actually a realistic thing people would do. Eh, on to the next bomb in your askbox

Love me some sonic snap cube duo references

[dominimoonbeam]

all of your darlin fics give me sooo much serotonin (even if some of them hurt meee) ❤️❤️

i was also wondering if you are willing to write for starlight and avior mainly cuz i want to read about them going on a coffee dateee

I LOOOOVE Avior/Starlight! I did a fic for them a long while back but then have been kind of in limbo since waiting to see how the canon will unfold and not really sure what to write for them. So, this ask was super appreciated, Anon!

If you have any Avior/Starlight wishes I would love to hear them and if they hit a mark with me, I'll write them!

This one is Avior/Starlight at a café after escaping the meridian, both having forgotten everything but somehow still finding each other again. Posted on ao3 too!

tags: memory loss.

With The Starlight Eyes.

Avior went into the human café. He didn’t know why. He’d seen it a few times in the area and it caught his attention longer and longer each time. He didn’t even like coffee. But when he went inside it felt…right. It felt like he’d been there before, or heard so much about it that it felt that way.

He shuffled past the arrangements of tables and chairs full of people reading books and clacking away on laptops. The cafe smelled nice and something that had been wound tight in his chest for weeks eased a little, like a part of him had been looking for this place.

He got in line, no idea what he should order. He did not do things like this. Why was he here? What was the point?

The empowered humans at the café saw him for what he was while the few unempowered ones would see him dimly, forgettable but human to their eyes. He got to the front and didn’t miss how the empowered barista looked surprised to see a demon in their line. They smiled quickly and asked what he wanted. He picked something off the menu. Macchiato. He liked the word at least.

He pulled cash from his pocket and offered it up. The empowered human was not the least bit surprised to have to sort the bills and hand him back the extra. He knew some demons liked to play with human things and human barter but he hadn’t partaken much and there were plenty of demons that never did.

He watched them make the coffee and accepted the cup and saucer.

But when he turned toward the room, he realized that it was too full. There was nowhere to sit.

“You can sit here if you want,” someone said.

He turned and looked at the empowered human sitting at one of the little tables. They had a book in hand and some papers and highlights on the table beside a half-empty cup of coffee. They nudged their chin toward the chair across from them. “It’s not usually this busy in here.”

Avior smiled before he could even wonder why, his eyes flicking over this person. Did he know them? They were familiar but he couldn’t place them and Avior never forgot anyone or anything. He took the seat. “Thank you.”

The empowered human smiled back, moving their papers to clear half the little table for him to set down his cup. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Are you here that often that you’d know if I was new?”

They laughed a little and shrugged. “Maybe. I like this spot. It’s right between my work and home and I like the big windows.”

Avior nodded, momentarily mesmerized by the way the lights outside those windows reflected in their dark eyes, almost like stars.

They extended a hand and introduced themself.

Avior took the offering. “Avior.” He glanced at the book in their hand and recognized it as something he’d read a while back. He asked them how they were liking it and they beamed, clearly excited to tell someone their thoughts on it but quickly asking his in return. They were fast and smart. He picked up the big white mug and sipped, grimacing as he fought not to spit out the bitter liquid.

The empowered human laughed before they could stop themself, clapping a hand to their mouth when they did and apologizing.

Avior shook his head and put the mug down. “No. It’s fine. Admittedly, I didn’t know what I was ordering. I’m just… trying something, I guess.”

The human sat a little taller, leaning forward to look at his drink. “Have you ever had coffee before?”

He shrugged noncommittally.

They nudged their cup and saucer closer to the middle of their little shared table. “This one is chai. Do you want to try it?”

He looked at the offering. At their cup pressed toward him.

The human blushed. “Is that too forward? You don’t have to, of course.”

What was strange, was how much he did want it. He wanted to share something with them. He looked at the human again and would have accused them of using some sort of magic on him if he couldn’t see so clearly the honesty in their eyes. Those eyes. He could have sworn he knew those eyes before today. “Thank you,” he said, taking their cup up and trying not to think too much about where their hands had touched the porcelain or where their lips had brushed the edge. He braced himself and took a sip, but this drink was nothing like the last one. He thought about it for a second, their eyes always on him. “I don’t hate this one,” he decided.

The human beamed. “Do you want to trade?” They touched the saucer under his coffee cup but didn’t pull it toward themself just yet, waiting for him to decide.

He was still holding the chai. “Do you mind? You don’t have to drink that one. I can get my own—”

The human laughed and it was a warm sound, sending waves through his chest. “I don’t mind at all. I rotate through the menu.”

He nodded and they rearranged the table, the chai in front of him and the macchiato in front of them. He was worried they were just being polite at first but eventually they were drinking that coffee monstrosity and not even frowning. They talked so long that at some point the human ordered another drink and even though the café cleared out some, Avior never even considered moving to another table. The human was inquisitive and the conversation relaxed something in him, as though he’d craved this, even though he’d never needed anything like it before. It was almost like he hadn’t come to this café for the café at all—he’d come here for them, the empowered human with the starlight eyes.

[yavieriel]

@forerussake tagged me in a first lines meme, but I'm terrible at actually fucking finishing things and publishing them, so I'm doing a WIP-inclusive variant.

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published worked on. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends. A first-lines meme!

1. He flees the ruins of his body, and darkness encompasses him. Here, actually written and posted in about an hour yesterday.

2. The wind that pushed Melkor’s poisonous fumes back from the battlefield carried an achingly familiar scent of power, shimmering blue in the edges of his vision. Bind, which I have started desultorily prodding at again. There's a much longer but very piecemeal version still unpublished.

3. Olorin had appeared at the gates to Ingwe’s garden that morning, quiet and grave, and Ingwe had known at once that something was deeply wrong, the worry he’d felt since Melkor’s release coalescing into certainty. Manwe/Ingwe with a somewhat different take on their dynamic that my usual. A sequel of sorts to this fic by @gloriousmonsters, though I feel like the premise stands reasonably well on its own.

4. Varda has always loved teasing Ulmo, coaxing him out of his frigid solitude with her warmth and brightness. OT3: The Water Cycle, aka the Varda/Manwe/Ulmo fic. I mentioned this concept to @fireflypersona years ago and I still want to write it, but for now I have exactly three sentences.

5. The destination of the caravan was the court of a petty king who made his wealth selling slaves to Mordor, and so could afford its cargo of rare wines, polished gems, furs and fine linen from Gondor and points further north. I've always been a sucker for the classic premise of "Legolas is captured and enslaved and meets a stranger (Aragorn) who rescues him and they fall in love". I've read a lot of takes on it and always been unsatisfied one way or another; maybe someday I'll actually flesh this out. Very importantly, involves Legolas consensually acting as Aragorn's sex-slave to avoid blowing Aragorn's cover before they can escape, so like... fake dating turned up to eleven+fuck-or-die.

6. There was something different in the forest, something strange. The very long, largely canon-compliant Manwe/Ingwe fic I've been working on off and on for years now, spanning from Ingwe's first meeting with Orome to the War of Wrath.

7. When the evening meal is finished, Fingolfin retreats to his rooms. The practicalities of ruling are done for the day, set aside for rest and, sometimes, the more tender responsibilities of a lord to his people. I have a lot of nebulous feelings about nonsexual elven D/s relationships and fealty kink and occasionally try to work out what I think that would look like by writing about it.

8. It had been an absolutely miserable day at court so far. An Edrahil/Finrod/Barahir fic that I've been cowriting with @absynthe--minded, although it's been a bit neglected for awhile since iirc we hit a sticking point where neither of us were really happy with it.

9. Yavanna speaks to him a soft murmur of concern, the uncertain rustle of branches directing his gaze to the roots of Laurelin spreading across the crown of the Ezellohar, where a mote of gold is cupped within the high ridge of one curving root near the trunk. Another Manwe/Ingwe thing, meant to be a one-shot-ish thing set in the same universe as Pantie by the inestimable and much-missed Emily en Rose. Ingwe visits Valinor for the first time and much to his dismay, discovers that he's an omega by going into heat. Working title: "I'm so sorry Ingwe".

10. Valinor had always had a surfeit of exotic creatures - things that had long since vanished from Middle-earth, or lived far to the south or east of Beleriand, and some that he suspected were merely charming but not-quite-successful creations of the Valar that couldn’t survive without a little assistance. The thing where I've been faffing around with the idea of Finrod/Namo and/or Amarie/Finrod/Namo.

Feel free to ask questions about these if you want more of them, and/or to DM me for the googledocs link if you want to read whatever draft I have and comment on it there.

[devourer--of--books]

SGE x PJO AU: wiki pages

PART I: Hester

Okay, so hm, before we start.

Warning: some minor cursing, as well as spoilers for all percy jackson and the olympians, heroes of olympus and school for good and evil books. Basic knowledge of the main plot points is heavily recommended. 

Now that that’s out of the way, an unnecessary note:

I was unsure on how to structure this au, as I was originally going through the events of the novels book by book, but turns out that made the posts way too long (longer than they already are) and more like a mini-fic than an au post, so, for now, we’re sticking to a character-based wiki-like structure, one at a time.

This is obviously an au, so while we'll follow loosely the events of the riordan-verse, there's many tweaks, so it's easier to follow if you're familiar with the canon material but hopefully, I'll be able to answer any questions y'all might have.

I just might do mini-fic posts or write a one-shot or two, but that takes a while so maybe tell me if you’d be interested in that, because as usual, I am fueled by validation.

This is so goddamn self-indulgent. 

Hester Ravenswood

Daughter of Nemesis

Occupation: Head counselor of cabin 19 / High school student.

Early years: Used to live with her father, until he tragically died in a mysterious factory fire when she was 10. 

It is unknown how Hester got to camp, aside from the vague explanation she gives to Sophie and Agatha: she ran away from an orphanage and her mother guided her to Camp Half-Blood using dreams. She arrived at camp in the same night as Chaddick Edwards, and witnessed his death at Half-Blood Hill.

Camp years: Hester used to be a year-round camper at cabin 11. Since Nemesis didn’t have an actual cabin at the time, Hester was placed there, as per camp tradition, and while she often flaunted her parentage, she never got officially claimed. 

Within her first year, Hester dueled an older, unnamed demigod for a bunk bed at cabin 11. She wins the duel, but ends up with a bad reputation as a “shady back-stabber” around camp, due to her use of a hidden knife to win. The bottom bed of said bunk used to be always empty, despite Hermes’ cabin being very crowded, until Agatha’s arrival a few years later.

Hester is the third member of the quest to retrieve Zeus’ lighting bolt, alongside newcomers Agatha and Sophie.

The following summer, she runs away from camp with Sophie Martin to help on the quest for the golden fleece. 

Later that year, she participates in the mission to retrieve Yara and Willam Thomas from Westover Hall. 

During the quest to rescue Artemis, Hester is absent due to being given another quest by oracle/camp director August Sader: scouting the labyrinth. 

Next summer she leads the quest to find Daedalus, but after the incident in Hephaestus’ forges, she chooses to remain at camp to prepare for Kronos’ invasion, as well as aiding Dot Nottingham with Anadil Bloodbrook’s recovery after her time wandering by herself in the labyrinth.

A year later, Hester and Agatha blow up the Princess Andromeda cruise together, and she is heavily involved in the events leading to and during the Battle of Manhattan. Hester and Anadil are responsible for convincing a few minor gods, including Hester’s mother, to betray Kronos and help the campers fight off his army once Kronos cuts off connection between himself (alongside Sophie, Agatha and Yara) and his army to get to Olympus.

Post-war, she attends school alongside Dot Nottingham. It’s unknown what she plans to do after graduating, though it’s implied she might have to retake the year, as she often skipped classes to look for Agatha with Sophie. In one of those missions, Nemesis guides Hester to rescue Nicola Saylor, bringing her to Camp Half-Blood.

Currently: Hester is one of the seven demigods of the prophecy, and is abord the Argo II, headed towards Camp Jupiter.

Connections:

Dot Nottingham

While Hester mostly kept to herself during her first years at Camp Half-Blood, she has a secret soft spot for Dot, as she once overheard the girl standing up for her against Beatrix Jolie. 

She is the one that teaches Dot how to use a dagger. 

Every year, Dot offerers to house Hester for the school year, and every year she refuses, until after the Battle of Manhattan, when she accepts the invitation.

Agatha Schwartz

Hester and Agatha become friends shortly after her arrival, alongside Sophie, at Camp Half-Blood, when Hester claims to be impressed by Agatha’s confrontation with Aric Lesso, which seemed to freak every other camper out. 

Through the years, Hester  develops a not-so-one-sided crush on her, leading to a, rather messy, undefined romantic relationship between them after Hester kissed Agatha at Mount Saint Helens, but the two decide they are better off as friends after the Battle of Manhattan.

Hester is greatly distraught by Agatha’s disappearance after the war and feels horribly guilty for ignoring Agatha’s attempts to contact her prior to it due to remaining pettiness post-break-up.

Sophie Martin

Off to a bad start upon meeting, the two become tentative friends during the quest to retrieve the lightning bolt, and they even manage to join forces to aid Agatha, Hort Scourie and Aric Lesso on their quest for the golden fleece. 

However, Hester quickly grows suspicious that Sophie might be a spy for Rafal at camp. Once she hears that this accusation was proven true, during the quest to rescue Artemis, it causes an irreversible shift in their mostly playful previous dynamic, even though Sophie changes sides again after Rafal betrays her trust at Mount Tamalpais. The peak of their animosity is at their duel after “Agatha’s funeral”, in which Hester nearly strangles Sophie with her whip while blinded by grief, only stopping due to interference from Agatha herself.

Thankfully, things seem to have smoothed over between them after Sophie stabs, and sucessfully kills, Rafal in the Gods’ Throne Room, "ending” the Battle of Manhattan by keeping Kronos from destroying Olympus.

Sophie and Hester grow closer during Agatha’s disappearance, often meeting up for search missions whenever one of them believes to have a lead on their friend’s whereabouts.

Anadil Bloodbrook

Hester first meets Anadil during her first mission an the labyrinth, in which she manages to convince Anadil to help her escape Kronos’ forces, but isn’t able to take her along, feeling horrible guilt, believing Anadil to have been killed.

Once she learns that Anadil managed to escape and is actually alive, having been wandering through the maze on her own for months, Hester vows to save her, stepping down and handing over the quest for Daedalus to Agatha.

Hester manages to find Anadil, whose mind appears fragmented after so long in the labyrinth, and begs Dot to help her find a solution. The daughter of Dionysus eventually does, combining her mild influence over madness with Reena Shazabah’s healing talents as a daughter of Apollo.

Anadil and Hester keep in touch often after that, becoming very close friends and formulating a plan to secretly recruit minor gods and their children back to the olympian side.

The two of them start dating officially a few weeks after the end of the war and are currently still together.

Nemesis

Hester is contacted by her mother more often than most demigods, probably due to Nemesis status as a minor goddess. Nemesis offers to help Hester on occasion, but Hester always stresses that her mother is anything but kind; no help from her ever comes free of charge.

August Sader

Despite making a few jokes about the oracle’s host being past his prime, Hester shows a deep respect for the camp director, even if she doesn’t always agree with his tatics.

Reena Shazabah

Hester’s active dislike for Beatrix during her first few summers at camp lead to her passive dislike of all of the daughter of Aphrodite’s friends and flings, including Reena, but they eventually become friends and, after Reena aids Dot in healing Anadil’s mind, the two of them can often be spotted training together at the arena.

Rafal

While they were in the same cabin and Rafal was one of the few campers that didn’t avoid her, Hester tells Agatha she does not trust him. 

Once Rafal reveals himself as Kronos’ son, offering Hester a spot in his army, due to her being a child of a minor goddess, she tells him to “get fucked” and stabs him in the arm with her dagger, establishing their dynamic for the rest of the war.

Nicola Saylor

Hester is initially resentful of Nicola, for her presence reminded Hester of her own failure to find Agatha, but once the roman girl reveals that Agatha was most likely stuck at Camp Jupiter without her memories, Hester starts acting less hostile towards her.

Yara Thomas

Hester is part of the rescue party that retrieves Yara and her brother Willan.

At first the two seemed to get along, but after Yara joins the Hunters their friendship sours, as Hester has a very strong disdain for the group.

However, they start talking again during the Battle of Manhattan and grow closer once Yara offers to try and track down Agatha once she goes missing.

The current status of their friendship is unknown, as Hester will probably be livid once she finds out Yara met amnesiac!Agatha at Camp Jupiter months prior to Nicola’s arrival at Camp Half-Blood.

Hort Scourie

She doesn’t really care much for Hort at all before he is revealed to be one of the seven, but tolerates his presence on occasion, though Hester does state that kicking his ass on the arena is one of her favorite hobbies.

Weapons and Powers: Hester is very skilled with daggers and knifes, though her weapon of choice is usually a whip given to her by her mother on a deal they made when Hester first found out she was a demigod. Whatever Hester had to give her mother to keep her end of the bargain is currently unknown. 

The whip is shown to have a mind of its own, moving in fast snake-like motions that Sophie describes as “demonic”, glowing red when “awake”, but its use is rather dangerous for long periods of time, as it draws energy directly from Hester’s life force.

Hester has some sort of control over chance, being able to strike deals to tip the scales of balance in her favor, allowing her to succeed in unlikely situations, but more often than not, the price for doing so is way too high, being a last resort for her.

[pangolin-404]

Delving into what chapter 2 of Bendy: Rewritten (or just the side scroller AU, as a couple people have called it- still working on a vaguely clever name hh) would be like, where there are choices and reactions! More canon divergence! Things set up and hinted at!

The background music changes. No shame to batim's music, I quite like it, but it can be better. Whenever Sammy's around (carrying the cutout, looking over the band room, giving his ritual spiel) a banjo is added to the bg track. The followers get string instruments, more added depending how many are in the room. The sacrifice room is mainly string instruments

Sammy is somewhat a lost one. He loses his buff rights and is a mix of his pre- and post-update designs. I say somewhat because, while he is skeletal, he drips a lot and doesn't really have feet.

Sammy actually has followers. It can be pieced together from notes and dialogue that he split from the Lost Harbor after a close run in with Bendy permanently mangled his body and converted him to worship. He brought a few other lost ones with him (like, only a dozen but a couple died on the way). They wear Bendy masks, too, yet he's the only one wearing pants (mostly to hold his legs together). He also wears gloves to hold his fingers together, and only takes them off for brief periods to play an instrument before having to put them back on. Bendy left him with a lot of lasting damage

They all look the same and they know it hh

He's a proper prophet figure now that people look up to him. If Henry can find them huddled around a statue in prayer or drawing a ritual circle, they will talk about how much hope he gives them and how kind he is, despite how strict or overly optimistic he can be at times.

The followers' opinion of Henry changes with his behavior. Suggest Sammy is nuts? Say Bendy is evil? Drink too much soup? Break cutouts? They don't like that. Ask to learn more, give them some fresh soup, maybe even draw Bendy for them if Henry comes across fresh paper, and they'll appreciate it.

The cutouts are decorated with soup and candles. Drink a couple cans and the followers won't notice, drink more and they'll be upset, drink them all and they'll get concerned. Ink rats will scuttle out of hiding and can be found licking the empty cans.

Oh yeah you think humans were the only thing the ink affected? No there are ink rats and they scuttle around. Sometimes they become an enemy if multiple melt/fuse together and it's just a Lump Of Rat

"Did you drink the soup?" "No, did you?" "We don't have mouths! We can't eat!" "Who drank all the soup then?" "I don't know, but now there are rats everywhere!"

The whole chapter 2 area is bigger, kind of. Lots more signs of being lived in, with offices turned into little bedrooms and such. The followers are shy, though, and lurk behind locked doors, so finding them is tricky. Signs of life are everywhere but finding the life itself is difficult. Finding ones that talk more than a sentence is even harder.

Sammy is unhinged. Well-meaning, but ultimately mentally...cracked. He claims to have visions he interprets, but it's ambiguous whether they're nightmares/dreams or if Bendy's messing with him. He genuinely believes that Bendy will set them free, and he wants the best for his sheep. He'd be amicable if he wasn't trying to sacrifice Henry.

Instead of pressing the switches to open that first door, Henry had to find a pipe valve. A new "mechanic" of sorts is draining flooded halls. Ink pours down from piped above in an unpassable wall, and one or two valve are needed to shut it off completely.

Remember those notes I mentioned earlier? Well, some found around the music department contain buckets of how the followers see Sammy and their situation in general. They range from "oh hey here's Sammy's favorite tune-" to "note: don't play the organ! D:"

It's possible to find old newspapers and comics. Some of the pictures have been carefully cut out and pasted on the walls in various memorials, ranging from Bendy letting them outside to Sammy being "blessed" by the Ink Demon.

Some of the more petty depictions paint Alice as a jerk. She's an angel, he's a demon, so they're opposites. Since Bendy's so great, she must be awful! Rumors of a cruel Alice in deeper levels are hinted at.

The band room is slightly different. The projector's bulb is burst and there's a sticky note on it saying something about how touching it when you're made of ink is a bad idea, and to fix the projector before Sammy notices. Henry has to find a lightbulb and fix it now before he can turn it on.

The fight after opening the sanctuary affects the followers' opinions. They begin to realize what Sammy has in store for Henry. Killing all the searchers make them either makes them wince or frustrated, depending on their view on him up til that point.

I feel like you could probably click/interact with the banister to look over and it shows a still image of the band room below, and it shows whether or not the projector is fixed/playing and also shows any Bendy cutouts that pop up. I tried to draw that but couldn't get the angle I wanted, so

Sammy's sanctuary is like...just a big ol Bendy shrine. It's also where he sleeps, writes songs to Bendy, and where his banjo is kept. He has a Bendy plush on his bed

The further the chapter goes on, the quieter the followers are to Henry. They're gathering candles and offerings of personal belongings. They might be bittersweet, neutral, or glad to be away from him, depending on Henry's actions.

Jack is important to Sammy. They worked closely together and so they somewhat remember each other. He acts as Sammy's personal treasurer and doesn't let go of anything given to him. The first encounter with Jack is relatively the same, with needing to grab a valve from him. However, instead of holding the valve, it's sitting on the box

Henry's notes in his sketchbook also change depending on his interactions with things. If he annoys the followers and develops a bad relationship with them, he'll treat them like blind fools. If he helps them or is generally nice, he'll sound more sympathetic towards their situation and wish them well.

One is in the infirmary, badly hurt, missing a leg, practically a searcher, and delusional after getting just grazed by Bendy's aura. They believe they've been blessed by his presence, despite falling apart more and more by the hour (Bendy and any ink creature do not go together-). Henry can kill them and put them out of their misery, if he so chooses. The others won't like that.

Whether Henry kills him or not, Jack remembers. Getting items from him in the future becomes harder if he's killed multiple times, until eventually he's downright scared (I'll delve into more detail on the mess that is chapter 3). Befriending him completely later in chapter 3, on the other hand, will make the task easier.

Killing Jack triggers a horror vision. Henry briefly becomes unable to move, visibly distressed and looking around until the vision ends.

Not necessarily the sewers you first encounter him in, but close enough. You know you've entered an area Jack's in if there's a random item on a box that's under a light in an otherwise dim ink-flooded room

He goes through 'stages.' First the valve is on a box. Henry tries to grab it, but Jack (moving through the ink) pushes the box away. The methods of dealing with him is a messy web of cause-and-effect, with chances to crush him, corner the box slowly and steal the valve, it rush at it and cause it to slide off, or snatch his hat and bargain. (It's possible to steal his hat, kill him, and then keep/wear his hat, but why would you do that? Jack would forever loathe Henry and later on Sammy may ask for it back)

Nothing will stop Sammy from knocking Henry out. No matter how kind or cruel Henry is to his followers, Sammy will smack him over the head with a dustpan. He can't run, but the man can be sneaky if he wants to be, lurking through shadows and phasing in and out of the ritual portals.

(Clarification: because it would be a side scroller and the player could see Sammy sneaking up on Henry, instead there's a ritual circle on the wall that he'll jump out of when Henry walks past it.)

The sacrifice room is more of a hallway. The followers are all watching from the sidelines, peering through knocked out walls and over makeshift fenceposts. Candles and other offerings are around Henry. Sammy gives his spiel as always, first starting with a quiet "that face..." whispered mostly to himself but then using his Big Loud Musician Prophet voice to put on a show about how grand the sacrifice will be and how happy Bendy will be. The followers get excited for it.

Messy rendition but you get the picture

Sammy enters the room off to the side and calls for the Ink Demon. Ink leaks from the vents, and his aura is making some of the followers unsteady/weak. They become more restless, and unstable, until the calling reaches its climax (Sammy also sounds out of breath and his voice becomes wet and labored) and Bendy arrives out of sight. Sammy is torn apart, as per usual, though it's a slower, more audible mauling, and drags on through Henry's escape.

Some followers flee into the ink, while one or two are liquidated just by Bendy's aura. Others panic and attack Henry when he breaks free, messed up by Bendy's aura and so they resemble searchers.

Whether or not Henry powers through the onslaught or axes the frenzied followers may alter the number of followers he encounters later on, and (combined with how he'd treated them) how they react to seeing him again. "Oh I kind of remember you" vs "I don't blame you for using the axe" vs "Did you slaughter your way down here, too?"

Like in the updated chapters in game, the you can see ink machine lowering past crates/wood boards

Bendy actually pries himself up out of the ink with effort. Like, hands planted on the ground, lurching up, ink sloughing off of him, generally more detailed for a 2D animation.

Boris time! The boy himself peeks out from behind a wall before stepping out of the shadows

Feel free to send an ask for clarification/more detail about anything- I'm happy to go on more tangents!

[itsmeizumine]

so, i searched high and low for a post i swore i made talking about why i wanted to make a naruto oc and had this initial blurb and everything that i just intended to add on, but since it disappeared somehow, i'll start again

it's going to be long, but feel free to tag along the ride under break!!

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so, i know anyone who has followed me for a while might have caught up to the fact that i’m on my own naruto nostalgia personal hell right now. it has been dragging for a few months in and out since my lil sibs started to watch the ENTIRETY of naruto franchise just because (we’re talking about all filler eps, all arcs, all ovas, all movies; they’re real champs like that). we all are stuck in the same rooms with each other and nowhere else to go so there was really no way to escape this even if i wanted too, which… i did, in the beginning, not gonna lie (i can’t handle second-hand embarrassment guys, i just can’t, and kid naruto is– oh my god); but then i kind of settled on this constant utterly mortified state so deeply nothing else phased me enough to stop watching the damned thing with my sibs, and here we are.

(and pls, don’t get me wrong. i love naruto, it was important to me as a kid and i still feel echoes of its impact on me even now in my life; it’s just– watching it with my kidsie sibs and parents in the same room with it dubbed in my native lang and them having no context to most things anime, just… no lol)

and god, as much i like the series, rewatching it made my heart ache too. kid naruto had an awful life, dude. for real. it just made me want to swoop in, adopt him and get him somewhere else asap the whole time we watched classic. it was devasting blow after devasting blow since day one, and it took too long for him to find support and bonds (as flimsy as they were) he could cling and lean on (and even then he was left/had to leave behind some).

idk guys, i might be overthinking this but kids in precarious situations always make me emotional af

so i thought: my mojo is making ocs, okay, that’s how i dive into fandoms and such, maybe i could make someone he could call a friend? even if it’s just to comfort him and myself a bit?? yeah, let’s go with this

and like, i wanted him to have someone to goof up with and be silly and talk freely and not have to appear awesome to with that false bravato of his (because he uses that when he’s not comfortable, and i really really really need him to be, for once) but i also wanted him to have someone he could fall back whevener he wants, no questions asked, and that could take care of him if things came down to it, but couldn’t strip naruto’s control over his own situation as an adult would (because that’s terrifiying thing to feel, no control over what’s gonna happen to yourself; now imagine that as a kid that has to live and tend and watch out for their own well-being themselves or else they might as well die in a ditch and no one - in naruto’s mind on the very beggining of classic - would bat an eye?? yeah, no good indeed); so an older kid it had to be. older sibling figure or whatever.

and since i wanted this older kid to approach naruto amicably, they couldn’t be a kid native to konoha, even if they were there from on and beyond. or else they’d first think of naruto in the preconceived notions leaf-civilians kid thought (as a vague monster/demon their parents made of him), or as leaf-nin kid thought (a dumb numbskull, disgrace of the academy).

so before i even started on the kid themselves, i had to settle on a place out of konoha to start the deal (hahaha going through naruto wiki pages on my dying computer was so much fun guys, you have no idea)

i didn’t find a location that made sense in the wiki so i came up with something on my own. it turned out really cool actually. i’m going to link a post talking about this location in particular because this post is too long already, but what you need to know about shokinin daichi is that it was a completely civilian-based settlement. no one was prevenient from a ninja clan and married out of it for peace and quiet, no one had a second cousin that once dreamed about shinobi life as a kid or anything. i know it seems unfathomable in naruto’s universe to such a place exist, especially with how the world is exposed to us on the anime at least, but believe me, it’s more likely than you think. there’s far too much empty space on naruto’s geography and petty, small 1x1 feuds between clans for it not to. shokunin daichi was a place civilians were relatively content with their lives, and if one of them was more ambitious they’d aim for bigger things, yes, but it wouldn't usually scale so far as to become ninja.

my kid, kawarake, was the same. his family made up one the cores of the sanka clan, but since no one was looking forward to taking the clan head’s position from the main family anytime soon, they all lead relatively quiet lives with their own thing going on. the sanka clan run the ranch of shokunin daichi, and each of its cores took care of one kind of animal. kawarake’s family core took care of horses, and he spent most of his days since he was five tending to them or taking care of his littler cousins who wanted to tend them. if he wasn’t on the stables, he’d be strolling in the settlement’s main square to talk to and help all his extended family, or he’d be in his little hide-out by the river farther south from it. he was looking forward to start an apprenticeship under kakka’s clan on metalwork once he was bit older to have the excuse to go out of the settlement more often, but there was no rush on his part still. he was fine like this.

one seemingly random night, with most of the settlement preparing to lay down for the day, a group of nuke-nin found the place. no one knew how, nor who they were; and whoever was left after that disaster could only guess why, but as soon as the rogue shinobi caught sight of the quaint little thing that was kawarake’s home they started to set things on fire. they pillaged and ransacked and destroyed everything in their wake and soon it became clear that there was little to no thing the civilians could do to defend themselves, even with their mattocks and sickles and ropes and wooden planks and the strongest men and women there. smoke and heat enclosed around all of them, and people that had lived their entire lives there together were forced to leave with no plan or direction, just the clan heads’ ultimate order to grab who they could in their way out and survive. hope against hope that they’d find each other again.

kawarake had managed to find his nephew, and be found by his mom before they had to leave the remains of their burning, collapsing ranch behind. with stingy eyes and searing burns and scratches and soot here and there, they made their way out of the settlement to find kawarake’s dad and a distant cousin by chance, but couldn’t manage to reach a group - their people - running in the distance before they too dispersed each to some direction in search of safety. between the kawarake’s mom, dad and cousin, they decided that their best bet would be to seek refuge in konoha for now; and there they fleed to through forest and packed dirt as the night went on.

i don't think it's confirmed in canon but i've seen it around enough in fanfiction to think it might have been implied somewhere. the politics of seeking refuge in a hidden village might change from country to country but i think there's a consistency on the treaty: it has to be compensated for the risk it takes in accepting the refugee, either by trade if the said refugee can has capital to start producing right away or by demanding a shinobi from the refugee's household.

kawarake then becomes the first gen nin of his family, in order for them to stay in konoha and under it's protection. he's the best conventional candidate because of his age; his cousin and parents at too old for the academy, and his nephew too young. he's uneasy in the beginning, he's surrounded by ninja that can, with a few hand seals, create a catastrophe as big as what happened on his settlement just because they felt like it, and that's disconcerting af, but once he realizes that he's also gaining this power, and he's also also learning how to counter it, he manages to ease up a little bit. he even starts to look forward to the possibility of making missions out of konoha in the end; that way he can look around for all his family, and warn them they have a safe place to stay in konoha.

his family arrives two years after the uchiha massacre, and he graduates as a genin on team 3 the same semester as neji, tenten and lee. here's what i have of him and his team, intend to post more soon

he's a nice kid, guys, but he really shouldn't run around with a kunai like this

here's him, isako (also oc, gotta write stuff for her) and shiyoka (same, tho y'all have seen art of them and kawarake together already), their sensei is dope too and deserves her own presentation just because.