#please tell me people still like this stupid mod that I love so much

[zionanelequaso]

lounging larry x carl

sorry my demons

[nelyoslegalteam]

please tell me about your dnd campaign, stranger

hi hi hi hi hi hi hi do you have any idea how happy i am to get this ask. you have activated my trap card this is going to be SO long i am sorry in advance but The People Need To Know About My D&D Campaign.

so we’re playing in Adventures in Middle Earth, which is. supposedly a Tolkienverse-specific 5e mod but frankly it’s robust enough to fully count as its own system if you ask me. like it has its own guidebooks, character sheets, premade adventures, and features mechanics that 5e just straight up doesn’t have. it’s like if 5e were actually good. anyway. may i present to you:

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ The Mirkwood Campaign ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

so what, exactly, happened in the intervening years between the events of the Hobbit and LOTR? we did, BAYBEEEEEE!!

we are:

Murdoc, a hobbitish warden (adventures in middle earth’s version of a bard), played by yours truly!! raised in the shire and eventually moved out to the middle of mirkwood by an eccentric uncle who idolizes bilbo baggins, murdoc is the heir apparent to the brandybuck family inn. unfortunately for murdoc, he has developed extremely nasty prophetic dreams and is now burdened with the ability to see the future! a skill that has definitely left him with a very normal relationship to his new day job of Being An Adventurer!! i am unhinged and have uh. Talked About Him A LOT If You Care To Read This, but he is full of murderous rage and also tea and loves his friends very much. he also, more recently, surrendered himself as bait to the great werewolf plaguing mirkwood, trusting completely that his friends would come and save him. he was right. they did. and he lost his right hand in the process. :)

Ríros, an elven warrior (aime version of a fighter), played by @jaz-the-bard. tall, buff, sunshiny, and an absolute himbo. ALSO loves his friends VERY much and this is KEY. unfortunately for ríros, he is a redhead, and that does cause problems in a world where maedhros feänorion once existed. (stranger, i am so sorry if you are not one of my silmarillion regulars and did not know what you were getting into by asking me, a silmarillion blog, to tell you about my d&d campaign, and now have no idea who or what the fuck i am talking about). ríros is notably not maedhros though! he isn't even noldorin!! maedhros is a ghost who lives in his sword (and who is also played by jaz)! and who also maybe kind of accidentally possessed him one time, if you wanna read this here for a better explanation of ríros mostly but also all of the above.

The Bearer, a human slayer (aime barbarian), played by @thymo-leonta. grumpy old man. unwilling father to all these young and stupid adventurers he’s been stuck with. are they all adults? yeah sure. they’re still Children. we are making him go grey. also full of murderous rage. looks like he's running from his perfectly normal, happy, loving family. is actually acutely aware of the fact that he has been doomed to die. killed the werewolf that took murdoc's hand. as a consequence, became the werewolf that took murdoc's hand. has two dogs, both named Dog <3

Déorwyn, a human wanderer (aime ranger), played by @shadowkat2000. resident party Horse Girl. a fellow sufferer of The Bad Prophetic Dreams^TM. because this is not quite unfortunate enough for her, déorwyn Hears Dead People. apparently our GM gives her extra secret bonus ghosts that the rest of us do not hear or know about! this being the source of her foresight makes her pretty distinct from murdoc, despite them both seemingly suffering from the same thing, in ways that i have LOTS of emotions about. her horse is named windrider and Their Bond Is Unbreakable uwu

and @potatoobsessed999, our obligatorily Extremely Ominous GM!

(we are also occasionally joined by Ioreth, a human treasure hunter (aime rogue), whose player is unfortunately not on tumblr. a founding member of the party, has earned the epithet The Feral, mostly loves to hang out in the woods by herself, look for shiny things, and cause chaos. as a beorning, she CAN astral-project herself as a bear. it rules. once got possessed by a ringwraith, probably holds the most compassion for characters who have been through similar out of any of us. is usually covered in mud.)

initially in the employ of radagast the brown, a tenure that did not last due to murdoc's insistence that saruman is evil (i mean. yeah lol.), we're a group of adventurers traveling mirkwood with the aim to defend it as sauron slowly gathers power. we are

very

successful at the Fighting And Killing Things part of this

we specialize in:

lugging unconscious bodies through the woods!

lugging DEAD bodies through the woods!

lugging EACH OTHER'S bodies through the woods!

lugging things through the woods in general!

setting things on fire (usually murdoc's fault)!

making fun of our enemies so bad they just give up!

INCLUDING the ringwraiths (shoutout to ríros)!

serving annoying politicians subpoenas!

murdering them like the one time it was totally justified we promise!

accidentally convincing the council of mirkwood that murdoc's inn is a small fiefdom!

being generally cursed (except for ríros) (he just looks that way)!

HIRE US to take care of whatever problems are happening in YOUR local cursed forest! wights? patricidal politicians? generally awful politicians? sauron? the same fucking werewolf again? it's definitely just tuesday to us!

you can count on

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ the union of murdoc ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

anyhow, jaz is absolutely wonderful and has written several fics of our party, including (but not limited to):

Cooking Contest for the Free Peoples, based on an in-game conversation about beating sauron at competitive cooking,

In Which There Are More Ghosts, which is not canon to game but is in fact Extremely Representative of the exact kind of nonsense we get up to (campaign's haunted),

A Stranger With a Friend's Face, a canon to game horror story of how ríros got slightly possessed, the party acquired maedhros, and neither murdoc nor déorwyn managed to explain the presence of the vengeful ghost residing in murdoc's scepter and bullying him in his dreams to any of the rest of the party right up until this very moment,

and this wonderful drabble from the horror arc in which we were isolated inside of a haunted longhouse. complete with party memes here.

there's more, and i am going to a.) pick on jaz to add them if they can find them, and b.) pick on my beloved friends in general to Please Help Me Infodump About our Game!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Top to Bottom, Left to Right: Murdoc, the Bearer, Déorwyn, Ríros, Ioreth]

[yellowocaballero]

please tell me about untitled document gravity falls transcendence au. what?

The minute I saw this from Ami I was like "omfg of course you can have it queen <3" and the minute I saw it from you I was like "wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy."

Anyway, I really loved the Transcendence AU when I was younger and looking back it really was (and still is! people still write for it!) a beautiful thing to exist. The setting itself was so expansive and ripe for worldbuilding. The basic rules of the universe were so simple - 'the near future, with supernatural creatures and demons and magic!' - and opened up so much room for creativity and fun. The timeline was on such an expansive scale literally everybody could have an OC and they didn't even need to rub shoulders. Reincarnation topics meant that everybody got to write their favorite character AND make them an OC. The big creators made such great OCs that they became part of the universe and lore of the series. And for me, specifically, it was SO GEN and very family and worldbuilding oriented with almost NO shipping. I think at least some of the mods were ace and it was just the most ace-friendly fandom I'd ever seen. Haven't found that again lately.

I reread 'Return Rebirth Rewrite' and got nostalgic. I always had a mental image of how Lionel's deal with Alcor went, and then I decided to experience the absolute joy of finally having the skill to put to paper something that's always been in your head.

If you HAVE read RRR it's been a while, so TL;DR in a way that preserves the fun of the story underneath- RRR is about a normal twelve year old kid Dipper living with his reincarnated sister and loving father and discovering that he was actually a demon named Alcor in a past life.

Very short transcendentally self-indulgent fic under the cut. Hey, as it turns out, Alcor is FUCKING HARD to write.

Was it fate?

One class taken to satisfy a college requirement, chosen because it didn’t conflict with his Book-Binding class, spiraled into a certification. A high school ex-boyfriend that bought her cigarettes and induced a lifelong habit. Parents were dead - nobody to talk him out of it. Maybe it was a storm of factors that blew one decision into motion, a decision that would have stayed unmoving and silent if he’d taken the nurse’s advice and gotten some rest. Or maybe Lionel was just the sort of person who would always end up here, crouched in a motel room far from home, summoning a demon. Maybe he was weak.

Maya would have said that the love was too strong. But Maya was gone, and an oak tree grown too large collapsed under its own weight.

Lionel bought the supplies from the occult store in a daze. The past two hours had been a blur - he barely even remembered making the decision. A certification to archive the occult meant that he’d read dozens of books on demon summoning. He could do it in his sleep, and was practically doing so. He chose the best demon for the job with a distant, unaffected logic, and borrowed the motel office printer to print out a reference picture for a summoning circle. 

This was the stupidest possible thing to do, but he wasn’t stupid. It was a good summoning. He chose the best demon. An informed insanity. The only thing he didn’t do was write down his script for the deal. No need. It wasn’t exactly complicated. And writing it down would have made it real, and he couldn’t afford for anything to be real right now, so the resolution would have to stay in the making.

The summoning circle was drawn with a steady hand. The candles were lit with a decisive lighter tab. The summoning invocation was recited in a clear, firm tone. Passive voice. Dr. Gomez would have taken points off this essay. Would have taken points from his brain. Was he insane? Was he going insane? Was this insanity?

Lionel only really snapped back to reality once he was confronted with it. The candles flickered, then extinguished. Shadows bubbled and rose, snapping free of their outlines and leaking forward in pure blackness. Sulfur blew into the room on a gust of cold wind, as if standing by the shores of the sea. Lionel opened a portal and brought a demon into reality, and brought his own mind with it. 

He only properly realized what he had done once Alcor the Dreambender loomed before him. Maybe that was the first cruelty of a demon. Now he was going to bargain away his soul knowing exactly what he was doing.

Alcor was black and gold, a humanoid figure of shadow latticed with blocks of gold thread. Imprints of wings patterned the motel wall behind him, extending his presence in the room until he was almost crowding out Lionel. The top hat floating above his head was, incongruously, a regular top hat. Maybe? Lionel had only read about the top hat. Was that what top hats looked like? Why not a powdered wig? 

“Who dares summon Alcor the Dreambender?”

A desperate man, Lionel thought frantically. But he couldn’t exactly say that. 

Power stances, seem in control, take a stand. But Lionel wasn’t in the mood to pretend he was fooling everybody. His legs gave out from under him, and he slumped to his knees. Alcor angled his head downwards, somehow visibly unimpressed and bored. 

He should have prepared a script, but he would have forgotten it instantly. Lionel ended up speaking from the heart. The books said Alcor liked that sort of thing, but it wasn’t really a calculated move. He didn’t know how to do anything differently.

“Maya’s dead,” Lionel said plainly. “Maya’s - she’s my wife. Dead. Um - the baby.” 

Alcor’s unimpressed air tripled. Lionel couldn’t even muster shame. 

“The baby’s not going to make it. Respiratory distress syndrome and pulmonary hemorrhage. Respiratory failure, soon. I need - I need your help. Alcor. Please save my baby, Alcor.”

Alcor was unmoved. He crossed his arms and sighed, like a particularly exhausted doctor who had seen one too many desperate patients that day and honestly couldn’t give a shit anymore. “Another day, another little sob story. Let me guess, you’ll do anything?” His tone turned a little nasally and mocking. “You’ll even sell your soul, Mister Demon, just save my special little baby?”

The pointless mockery jolted Lionel back down to earth. Every piece of literature warned about demonic games and cruelty. Was this cruelty? It just sounded like somebody who didn’t even care. 

“Yes,” Lionel said. He wasn’t the kind of person who took the bait. Used to drive Maya mad during arguments. “Heal my baby. Make her strong and healthy and never sick. And - let me live the rest of my natural life, then take my soul. That’s my terms.”

Bored, Alcor said, “I can give you ten years of life before taking your soul.”

Lionel’s head snapped up, and he met Alcor’s eyes for the first time. At a certain point, the demon had crossed his legs and began floating in midair, one elbow propped on a folded knee and chin buried in his hand. His shadows had lightened somewhat, and now he appeared only like a man covered in shadow. “I can’t do that. Ten is too young to lose a father.”

“That’s your issue?” Alcor tilted his head, dark eyebrows arching upwards. “Not ‘thirty five is too young to die?’”

“Am I here because I give a shit about myself?” Lionel cried. Wasn’t that obvious? If the worst moment of Lionel’s life was tedious to Alcor, shouldn’t this be obvious? “I can’t leave her without anybody to love her. She won’t have anybody else. Please, come on - I know you don’t - don’t understand, but I can’t leave her alone.”

“Trust me,” Alcor said, flat and bored, “if there’s one thing I understand, it’s parents abandoning their kids. See it all the time. Your little girl would get along fine without a father.”

Demonic negotiations weren’t supposed to go like this. Lionel was too emotional, too confused. And despite Alcor’s boredom and distance, the topic seemed oddly - personal? Could that possibly be correct?

“That’s not what I want for her! I’m giving up my soul for her life, I want - I want it to be perfect. I want to tell her how much we wanted her every day. I want her to grow up with a dog. I want swimming lessons and birthday parties and vacations and - and all of it, Alcor. I have to be there.” Lionel took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Thirty years. That’s the maximum I’ll give. The life I want for her needs me in it. It’s already missing Maya. I won’t take any more from her.”

Alcor was silent for a second, long enough to make Lionel’s heart leap in his chest, before he finally sighed. “You’re one of those people who loves too much, aren’t you? People like you always lead unhappy lives.” He straightened, dropping down onto the floor and walking forward. The shadows slowly receded, and a man’s face began to emerge within Alcor. “Fine. Let me see the baby first before we shake on anything. An angelic act like this takes up a lot of energy. I’m not being hard on the price just to be mean, you know.”

Lionel stepped backwards. He knew that binding circles didn’t work on Alcor, but it was another thing to see him casually step outside of it. He was wearing the same antiquated clothing as in the illustrations, like a mannequin from a museum come to life. Like a haunted piece of the history Lionel loved so much, pulled from its rightful place by his sheer desperation.

He looked like anybody else. A complexion like Lionel’s own, mud brown hair gravity defying and framing a young face. He looked as old as Lionel. It put his exhaustion into sharp perspective - not an ancient demon wearing the form of a human, but just an old man seeming much younger. Or a young man grown too old.

It was even worse to look up at him now, and Lionel scrambled to his feet. He looked around the hotel room, as if the baby was about to roll out from underneath a bed. “She’s not here. She’s in the NICU. Please don’t teleport into the NICU, you’ll cause a panic.” 

“Bossy. Don’t worry, this is perfectly safe.” Alcor held out his hands in front of him, like a child waiting for a treat. “And…tah-dah!”

Lionel’s baby dropped from midair into Alcor’s arms. He almost screamed.

They said she’d die without intubation. Her tiny presence in Alcor’s arms should kill her. But Alcor quickly pressed a blunt finger onto her forehead, and a warm blue glow wrapped itself around her body. She slept soundly, swaddled in thin blankets, so tiny and skinny and red that she could barely be mistaken for a human baby at all. Lionel looked at her and saw a premature animal that would never grow up and become a person - a life form that would never even wake up. Seeing her in Alcor’s arms was stressful, but in a sideways way she seemed to fit.

“Let’s see the damage,” Alcor muttered to her. Bizarrely, he held her carefully and well. “You’re like a can of beans, you know that? Few hundred years ago you would have been DOA. Now look at you. Wrinkly cutie -”

Alcor halted. The last of his shadows fell away, and his eyes widened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alcor whispered.

The only thing worse than a premature baby at death’s door was a premature baby at death’s door that surprised a demon. Lionel stepped forward, hand half-outreached. “What? What’s wrong?”

Alcor didn’t respond. He just stared at the baby, eyes wide and frozen still. His lips mouthed something, but Lionel couldn’t make it out.

“Alcor?” Lionel asked hesitantly. “Is there something wrong with her?”

That jolted Alcor back into awareness. He looked between Lionel and the baby several times, shoulders drawn back, almost with new eyes. Suddenly and strangely, he seemed a lot more human. “Do you believe in fate, Lionel Sterling?”’

There was only one way to answer that question truthfully - with any sort of certainty. “If this is fate, I must have done something horrible in my past life.”

“Not how that works.” Alcor’s eyes were locked on the baby, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. He seemed almost dizzy. “Lionel. You really want her to live a long and healthy life?”

“I - of course.” 

“You’ll be the best father you can?” Alcor held the baby a little closer to his chest. “She’ll be the happiest kid in the world?”

“That’s what I want,” Lionel said helplessly. “I want that more than anything.”

“How nice.” Something heavy and frantic was churning in Alcor, and Lionel began to have the worst possible feeling. “I’ve been bored, you know. So bored. So bored I’ve been pretty depressed. Things just seem meaningless, you know? My last friend died years ago. I’m not really close with anybody right now, not even family. I’ve been wondering what to do about it. When I get bored I get a little weird. Maybe I’m a little weird right now.” Alcor looked up at Lionel for the first time, and Lionel realized with a cold shock that his eyes were just as wild as Lionel’s. “I feel so far beyond weird right now it’s almost funny. But it’s not boring, so it feels like a good idea.”

“Can you give me back my baby?” Lionel asked quietly.

“New deal.” Alcor’s face split into a grin, wild and insane and light. “I’ll heal your baby. Perfect health guaranteed. And! She will have certified, bona-fide Alcor protection her entire life. Nothing lethally unfortunate will ever happen to her or to you. Protection for both of you and good luck for all. Double and! You’ll keep your soul. Hell, you’ll definitely live longer.” 

For a second of complete stupidity, the deal seemed fantastic. The deal sounded amazing. Any deal that didn’t include losing his life or his soul was better than their first arrangement. But Lionel was desperate, not stupid. “What’s the catch?”

Alcor looked down at the baby, rubbing his thumb against her forehead. Quietly, he said, “I’m going to reinvent reality to give her a twin brother. Your end of the deal is to take care of him like you take care of her. Raise him as if he was your own son. That’s it. Easy.” Alcor paused a beat. “Well, not that taking care of kids is easy, and I can guarantee that this one will be a bit of a brat, but probably easier than dying. Dying’s pretty easy too, actually -”

“Like a changeling?” Lionel asked, alarmed. “You’re not taking her away, you’re just - adding a child?”

“Yup. Like a buy one, get one free sort of thing. I guess it’s like a changeling!”

“That’s it?” That still sounded too good to be true. “Will the child be evil or anything? Will it hurt the baby? What species will it be?”

“Who cares! This is a sweet deal and you know it. You can’t afford to say no and we both know that too.” Alcor shifted the baby into one arm and extended his other hand, wreathing it in blue flames. “So do we have a deal?”

Alcor was right. The extra child situation was bizarre, but two sets of diapers was infinitely better than a ten year lifespan. This was probably the best deal anybody had ever gotten for such a big favor. He couldn’t afford to press it.

“Is this going to fuck me over?”

“Lionel,” Alcor said, and for some reason he seemed dead serious, “I’m trusting you here. More than I’ve trusted anybody in hundreds of years. You’re a good person. I promise you’ll only regret this a little.”

And Lionel knew that was the best he was ever going to get, so he reached out and shook on it.

The blue flames enveloped him, a brief second of white-hot chill, before they extinguished. Lionel shuddered, and he felt something strange deep in his soul - as if something and hooked a chain around it, or bolted it to a surface and let it squirm. 

Alcor unceremoniously tossed the baby in the air, letting her blink out of existence and hopefully back into the NICU. He clapped his sparking hands, grinning maniacally and remarkably human. 

“Time to wrap up my affairs! Better write a goodbye note to Mike, leave a few emergency charms for little Alice - oh, give them Lucy Ann’s contact information for emergencies, let her know where I’m going too. She hovers. The Flock bleat and bitch if I don’t tell them where I am, so I better elect a president or something and let them self-govern. This is going to be fun! And bizarre! Don’t worry about a thing on your end, Lionel. Get some rest, and your reality and memories should be completely rewritten by the time you wake up in the morning.” Alcor reached out and clapped a reassuring hand on Lionel’s shoulder, as if the reassurance would actually make him feel better instead of a lot worse. “Trust me, you don’t want to remember this. It’ll make your life a living hell. Unless you like that sort of thing?”

Inanely, Lionel could only say, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” 

“Really? I’m a Dream Demon, I can help! I want to be nice to you.” Nobody who actually wanted to be nice to somebody said that. “Here, close your eyes. I’ll knock you out. You’ll sleep right through the restructuring of the universe, promise!”

“Wait,” Lionel said, “on second thought, I really -”

“Night night!”

A soft index finger pressed against Lionel’s forehead, and all went dark.

[silence-and-reveries]

YouTubers and LOA subreddits aren't actually helpful (short-rant)

Let me explain,

The various loa subreddits are kind of a cesspool. It's always some person who has no idea who you are trying to push their limiting beliefs about love and money onto other people.

You can never talk about sps cause nowadays people will call you limerent, you can't say you want to win the lottery (even though tonnes of people do!) cause they think it's not possible or that you're messing with the middle "oh you can get the money in any way, don't limit it to the lottery!"

Dafuq. No one tells anybody they shouldn't play the lottery. Rich people buy lottery tickets. Someone ALWAYS wins the jackpot eventually.

The 3D means nothing though and neither does other people's limiting perceptions about possibilities.

I hate how we call any person that doesn't immediately move on from a deep connection "limerent" these days. That term didn't even exist 50 years ago.

All of the classic and historical works of fiction, and even historical tales themselves portray romantic plots far more convoluted and disparaging than anything modern people experience nowadays. No one told these people that loving a person who you're in separation from was bad, that was literally the norm cause life was so much more chaotic.

People have to understand that circumstances can come in any form and that no one's circumstances mean really anything in regards to their manifestation. Because that's the fundamental principle of the law.

Another thing, we can't go around telling people their desires are bad for them. Cause that's stupid as fuck. Nobody chooses the things they get to desire, it's literally given to us by our higher-self, subconscious, divine self or whatever the fuck.

Yeah you can have tangible needs based on your 3D circumstances but as a manifestor you have the option to change the 3D itself or manifest something to change the 3D. Either way, we're still the operant power!

"You don't want to win the lottery, you want the feeling of wealth"

"You don't want that SP, you want the feeling of being in a loving relationship"

Like, this was literally posted today and all the comments are people agreeing. When it's fucking nonsense.

Literally shut the fuck up. No one tells engaged people they aren't actually in love, or tells business people that they don't actually want to have success. So wtf are we doing? Why do the mods let people say these kinds of things and reinforce people's limiting beliefs, literally killing their manifestation????

Please, if you can stop watching loa content creators on yt and stop reading subreddits (at least the posts that aren't success stories) cause these people don't read/listen to the source material and are making shit up to feel above others and ensure they're constantly dependent on them for advice, cause their manifestations are being sabotaged.

Never, ever give the 3D circumstances power over your subconscious mind or let it dictate what you should or shouldn't desire. Because that's you. The 3D is YOU. It would just be your past, unrealized self telling your current self to maintain the old ways. NEVILLE LITERALLY MENTIONS THIS

Idk idk, it's so upsetting to see posts like that first thing in the morning. I wish the mods would get over themselves and be more consistent.

Neville quotes about desires, limiting beliefs and the nature of the 3D

"Stop asking yourself whether  you are worthy or unworthy to receive that which you desire. You, as man, did not create the desire. Your desires are ever fashioned within you because of what you now claim yourself to be."

"Facts are the fruit bearing witness of the use or misuse of the imagination. Man becomes what he imagines. He has a self-determined history."

"Imagination is the way, the truth, the life revealed. We cannot get hold of truth with the logical mind. Where the natural man of sense sees a bud, imagination sees a rose full-blown."

"Truth cannot be encompassed by facts. As we awaken to the imaginative life, we discover that to imagine a thing is to make it so, that a true judgment need not conform to the external reality to which it relates."

"To passively surrender to appearances and bow before the evidence of facts is to confess that Christ is not yet born in you."

He says so many important things but people want to misconstrue his words for their own benefit. It's a problem.

[ask-frater-imperator]

// hii- this is the author/mod again, or whatever anyone wishes to call me- I felt like writing some fanfiction for none other than the ran man himself! I haven't written in 3-4 years, so I'm sorry if it's a bit weird-

Cw: talk of possible transphobia, body Desmorphia, gender dysphoria, angst, dead Papas, talk of surgery scars, just standard copia angst..

IF I MISSED ANY TAGS, PLEASE TELL ME SOMEHOW, AND I WILL ADD THEM!!

Copia sighed, still not calm at all from the interaction he just had not even a few minutes ago. He was on the verge of hyperventilating as he took the long walk back to his quarters, the only thing really saving him from not was the rat on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck..it was grounding for him.

As soon as he got to his room and shut his door, he sunk down to the floor. It felt like his knees had just given up on him.. he took a few moments to regain his breath, standing up and putting his rat back in his cage with his brother..

"I just need time to myself.. That's all.."

He locked his door and put in a record on his record player, he knew he had paperwork to do and probably questions to answer but he didn't care. He needed time to himself for a little..

He went to his bathroom, lucky for him it was connected to his room. He washed off his paints and took off his gloves as well..

"I've had admirers before.. this is nothing different.."

He whispered to himself, trying to do anything to relax.. anything to not face the fear of his own mind. He drew himself a bath, hot enough to fog up the mirrors a bit.. he easily undressed, leaving only the old grucifix around his neck.

He looked at himself, his body.. his face.. all of him. Despite the surgeries, the touch-ups, the botox.. he still didn't feel like himself.. 20 years of testosterone, and you think it would do something, right? Well, yes, it did, but he could only see the scars of it all.. seeing his chest and how the light scars that were there would probably never go away.. the touch-ups around his thighs to make it look like he had real male genitalia.. no matter how much he did, he still had things to hide. He still didn't feel like a real man.

He pried his eyes away from the mirror, throwing a spare towel over it. He mumbled to himself before stepping into the bath, his aching joints loosening a bit from the hot water.. he sighed as he started to relax, resting his head at the end of the tub.

"How am I going to tell her?..how am I going to tell..anyone?.."

He knew most of the ministry wouldn't mind it, they would still see him as Papa. But he knew.. he just knew there would be people who doubted him, people who would think he only did it to be papa, there always was. In all his years he had never had a proper relationship, too scared they would judge him, too scared they wouldn't be comfortable with him after he said anything about it..or anything relating to his gender or sexuality.

"It's fine... this is fine.. i am Papa! I am the face of the ministry! Why would I worry about something as simple and stupid as that?..so many siblings of sin love me..trust me.. I'm sure they still would..and if not then.. then they will have to deal with it!"

He could hear the music fill his room as he spoke, distracting him for a few moments..he didn't want to face his fears, he knew he would have to..but he would just have to be ready. He was papa, he had to be confident, he had to be perfect, he had to be so many things..he couldn't bare to think of what would happen to him if he didn't live up to his title.

"Primo would probably know something.. he would be in his room, reading.. I'd ask him for help, and he would say something wise like 'Just be yourself.. you may be papa, but you are still Copia as well.'... Secondo would probably offer to lend me a few bottles of his wine..Terzo... Terzo would be like a wingman..like on a kids cartoon, whispering stuff into an earpiece for me to say.. for me to do.."

He chuckled at his own words, a smile on his lips as tears welled up in his eyes, flowing down his bare cheeks as they joined the water inside the bathtub.. he missed his brother's still.. he missed being a cardinal.. not having to have too much responsibility, having his brothers around, being able to let loose and have time for himself when he wanted, being able to flirt with anyone at all, on stage and not.. he missed the days when he wasn't just Papa.. he was Copia.

He listened to the music around him as he closed his eyes, deciding to let himself relax rather than think for a while. He mumbled the lyrics to the song as it played, 'California by Chappell roan'..

.

.

.

//Yeah... uhh- I like angst if you couldn't tell- I'm a bit proud of this one, so I hope whoever reads this likes it?.. I guess?.. anyways I hope you're doing okay- have a good night/day/afternoon!!

[wastelandhell]

Thank you so much @bokatan and @h3raklion for the tag!

I can tell this is going to become a patented Furby wall of text™ so I'll just throw in a cut now. tl;dr: I love you all and i draw danse way too much

This has been an interesting year mostly in that its my first time posting personal art online in, what, 7 years? I stopped doing this kind of drawing shortly after high school. I picked up painting flash and have been focusing on my tattooing since then. In that time I never did any digital drawing or character drawing until 2 years ago this month, when I drew Val for the first time.

I was terrified to post anything anywhere, I think I posted one piece to reddit, but besides that I kept everything pretty private until April of 2022. I originally made this blog as a place to silently post my drawings and screenshots while providing a sort of devlog of my mods for my own records, and didn't think I would be noticed. I didn't realize people tracked the paladin danse tag, lol!

I'm really glad for all the people I've met through here, I never would have kept this blog up if it weren't for the wonderful messages from all of you guys. So much of my art, both in subject and execution has been influenced by the other users I've had the pleasure of interacting with and I hope to keep it up this year!

You all know I mostly just draw Val and Danse, and this is the palette I use for most things:

These are all pretty drab, I use different of blending layers and photoshop adjustments to get the colours how I want them at the end.

I usually try to use different brushes in each of my drawings, but these are the ones I come back to most often. The first one is a variant of one of these brushes, I modified it to change size based on direction and tilt. I used the brush almost exclusively until august and its still my favourite for quickly laying out forms and values. I use this one for freckles. The rest are some of my top picks from True Grit Texture Supply, mostly from Chromagraph and Monomania.

I'm glad I was able to really get into drawing this year, and going through my folder I'm pleased with how my anatomy and faces have improved. However I am disappointed in how much of it is just the same ginger fuck. I'm really stunting my growth by not varying my subjects, and now that I'm more comfortable with the tools I want to push myself to actually. uh. try. Put in the effort to make art that says something, tells a story. Less single characters floating in blank voids. More people interacting, scenes, environments. I also really want to get back into digital painting, I used to be really into digital painting and in theory know how to do it. I'm going to try and dig out that old knowledge lol.

Despite being bit bland, and having some glaring errors that still bug me, that Danse drawing is still one of my favourites. I think I spent at least 8 hours on it. I was dealing with some personal issues at the time and just really wanted to scratch that brain itch that the bos knight uniform gives me. It's stupid, I hate it, I can draw it nearly completely from memory by how often I'm looking at it.

The 'tried something new' panel is difficult because I feel like a lot of my recent work has been pretty stagnant. It's all done with the same technique, same palette, same boring cel shading, same layer order, boring. This is one of the few times I did any proper digital painting, and tried to adapt the looser style that I use when I'm drawing in analogue mediums to my digital work.

I just talked about art here and not mods because that would be a whole other wall of text. But it would boil down to: love to do it, no time, and expensive.

Also, if anybody is interested, I do my drawing in Clip Studio Paint and Photoshop on a Surface Laptop Studio.

[lets-talk-spirituality]

anon 😂 I've been thinking too you're not alone and waiting mod will do analysis on Keep driving* as well as the others I'm curious mod please can you do it 🫢

I’m in the vibe. Here we go.

Black and white film camera, Yellow sunglasses

So contrast between black and white and yellow, I think this could relate to how his mind has opened past black and white thinking to something more vibrant “doors broken yellow blue” everything is black and white but I’m looking through a yellow lens, choosing a positive mindset

Ashtray, swimming pool, Hot wax, jump off the roof

“I’m on the roof” now he has jumped off the roof, “jumped in feet first”

to me he’s setting a scene and is very much using imagery to evoke a feeling, like I can almost see a group of friends having out smoking and swimming, to me this stanza is reflecting on his time in 1D

A small concern with how the engine sounds, We held darkness in withheld clouds, I would ask, "Should we just keep driving?"

He knew something wasn’t right but picked yellow sunglasses anyway, he knew there were storms brewing, but he kept trucking along. This relates back to how he mentioned emotionally coasting in my opinion

** spinning out** like a car spinning out. This is in satellite and to me it’s about him having this big emotional awakening and him feeling out of control. I think SM is part of this emotional awakening he had.

Maple syrup, coffee, Pancakes for two, Hash brown, egg yolk, I will always love you

To me this goes back to whomever he would stay inside his house and have breakfast with which he wrote in some older song— hunger maybe?—this feels like him releasing an ex to me, however from a SM perspective it could also be something he imagines doing in the future and is reassuring them that he will always love them, breakfast together is an innocent enough way to indicate he tried to establish domestic bliss with someone but they never dealt with their issues and just kept going along anyway

Passports in footwells, Kiss her and don't tells

Reminiscent of the song about seeing someone in footwells and many places, but again it’s a string of images which is kinda how his life has been, just shit being thrown at him as he coasted emotionally

Wine glass, puff pass, tea with cyborgs

Cyborgs, ahhh I love this word. I’ve had a fascination with our loss of humanity. I have written so many poems about it, about us being zombies or androids, walking products of progress. People took this to reflect on connecting over zoom but to me it’s deeper. He’s saying if we just keep driving through everything we lose our humanity, we become machines, it’s what the system requires of us. We drink and smoke to feel, have tea with other people who have lost their humanity hoping connecting with them will bring us back our own humanity, with no emotions we aren’t human. These are things people do to feel alive

Riot America, science and edibles, Life hacks going viral in the bathroom

This is about how we live so much of our lives online and it’s a spectrum from riots due to what’s exposed on social media, to stupid life hacks, how we use social media to try to feel too, social issues, science all things we use to try to feel

Cocaine, side boob, choke her with a sea view, toothache, bad move

To feel something, you progress into more painful things, if you are numb you try some rough sex, you try going somewhere, you try drugs, all still things to try to feel, toothaches can happen from grinding or clenching your teeth on drugs, I also like to think he wanted to confirm for us all that yes, he is kinky like smut writers have been giving us for years.

Just act normal, Moka pot Monday, it's all good

My favorite line, we’re all out here doing god knows what to feel but we go right back to being cyborgs, like nothing happened, just act normal, fake it till you make it

Hey, you, Should we just keep driving?

This is a call out to the collective like hey how is this working for us all? We’re losing our humanity, and he achieves this sentiment through specific glimpses of his own memories. It’s actually brilliant.

I know it’s not as SM focused but that’s because it’s a song about society and loss of humanity, but ultimately I think it’s still at the end a question to SM too. Like hey, should we just keep going along like everything is normal, should we just keep going through all this meaningless human stuff, I’m trying to describe it but when I hear the end it’s like there’s this exhaustion with society and how people live and he’s asking not only should society keep doing this, but should you and I keep doing this thing, being human, being here, going along like we’re normal and everything is fine.

Ultimately his answer is no. We should embrace who we truly are and step into the light, hey you is meant as like a break in the images and it’s a lyrical way to break the fourth wall. He’s not this unattainable cyborg, he’s a person too, asking you directly, should we keep living like this. Also if you think about the sentiment in Matilda “you can see the world, following the seasons” this is the same thing. “I can see you’re lonely down there, don’t you know that I’m right here?” Basically all this says to me, hey! Wake up. You don’t have to live how you’ve been, you don’t have to be lonely and feel unloved, you can change your life, you can spin out, you can stop the car, you can turn around, you can see me! I’m here for you. I think this to me demonstrates he knows intuitively they’ve been through it, and he’s urging them to not give up hope.

That’s why Matilda is special to him other anon who asked that. Because Matilda is a song of hope, a song he wrote to remind them that things may have been bad but that doesn’t mean they always will be, they can choose differently, he’s showing them how.

[trashiesttrashboy]

I'm convinced the radiant radiant sisters wouldn't get anywhere near as much hate if they were men. Like ondolemar gets so much love even though he's a literal NAZI ELF! He can get away with that, but god forbid a woman is slightly rude to you. Taarie especially deserves more love she even tells you that she's trying to be nice and genuinely doesn't seem to realise that what she said could come across as rude (I'm convinced she's autistic). Like yeah her sister is genuinely being rude to you and other customers but she still doesn't deserve all the hate for it. I could understand her being one of those characters that everyone jokes about being one of the most annoying people in Skyrim, but people just genuinely hate her.

Camilla Valerius often gets called a whore because two other men like her. She doesn't even seem to reciprocate their feelings, and in Faendal's case she doesn't even seem like she's aware he likes her romantically! Please just leave the poor girl alone! I downloaded a mod that gives each NPC more to talk about to make conversations more interesting, but it just makes her out to be a whore like NO SHES NOT YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HER LIKE I DO SHE ISNT A WHORE! LEAVE THAT POOR GIRL ALONE!

Elisif definitely suffers from the fandom's mysogyny. People think she's incompetent, and use her inexperience as an excuse for that. But you don't see people calling Siddgeir incompetent, do you? Sure I've seen people call him an arrogant cunt (which he is) but never have I seen anyone call him incompetent. Another excuse people use is that she 'lets her court tell her what to do'. You mean she asks them for advice? Because her court are also literally her advisors? ISNT LISTENING TO YOUR ADVISORS SOMETHING THAT A GOOD AND COMPETENT LEADER IS SUPPOSED TO DO??? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT SHE IS DOING THINGS THAT A COMPETENT LEADER DOES??? AND THAT SOMEHOW MAKES HER INCOMPETENT??? People do also say that the empire is taking advantage of her, which I do agree with to a certain degree, however she is also in a tricky situation and it seems like she's doing the absolute best she can. Bare in mind she is young, has been thrust into a position of power that she probably wasn't even prepared for, may be forced into an even more powerful position that she probably doesn't even want, and is still mourning her husband! She has a fucking lot on her plate already without having to worry about the civil war and looking after her people. I think she's doing an excellent job! She genuinely cares about her people and does what she thinks is best for them, regardless of wether or not she benefits from it. Also she is the only Jarl to stay in power no matter what side wins the civil war. Absolute girlboss.

Extra note on Elisif, in my first playthrough I royally fucked up that dark brotherhood wedding contract and ended up in jail. When I got let out Elisif was fistfighting the guards (who were still hostile) to defend me. If it weren't for her I wouldn't have been able to leave the city without reloading an earlier save and redoing the quest. All because I was her friend. In other words, SHE IS AN INCREDIBLY LOYAL FRIEND! I COULD ASK FOR HER HELP HIDING A BODY AND SHED SHOW UP AT MY DOORSTEP IN UNDER FIVE MINUTES WITH SHOVELS!

These are three examples of women in Skyrim who suffer from mysogyny. There are plenty more but these three always come to mind first for me.

The hate for Delphine is deserved. She is literally the most useless cow in the game. Even a crippled beggar is more useful than her, at least they'll give me the gift of charity. Delphine can't even do the one job she LITERALLY VOWED TO DO! She took a fucking VOW AND STILL WONT DO IT! The only reason esbern doesn't get the same amount of hate is because he takes you to alduin's wall and tells you what it says, but his usefulness ends there.

Delphine is also kind of stupid. She calls you a fool for showing up even if you don't trust her, when she was the one who invited you not only into her home but INTO HER SECRET FUCKING HIDEOUT WHILE NOT TRUSTING YOU! DELPHINE, YOU ARE THE FUCKING FOOL HERE! If she didn't trust you she could have asked to meet in a different location that doesn't give away her secret base, maybe even with some mercenaries or just any help really to give her that extra edge if it turned out she was right to not trust you, but she doesn't do that because she's an idiot.

what do you MEAN people think people only hate delphine bc she's a woman. did you play the game. did you interact with her. come on now.

[originalgenshinscenarios]

zhongli , xiao , kaeya , childe , diluc ,albedo and venti (sorry if this is too much i just love them all so much) with a s/o that’s a tsundere

It's not too much! My character limit is 10 after all ;) I tried to make all equally long and I hope I managed that

Zhongli, Xiao, Kaeya, Childe, Diluc, Albedo and Venti with tsundere! S/O

Zhongli

Believe it or not but he quickly got used to the way you express your emotions. It was a bit confusing to him but he understood it in no time (with some help).

But even though he's used to it he still sometimes doesn't know how to respond. This leads to few awkward moments where he just doesn't say anything.

He knows how much you care for him so your sometimes harsh words never bothered him.

Sometimes he might chuckle when you give him a lowkey insulting nickname. He finds it cute when you try so hard to hide that he doesn't make your heart beat faster... That said you often make him swoon as well.

"There's no need to feel embarrassed, it's no secret that I love you" he says as he lets you feel his heartbeat as proof.

His soft smile often leaves you staring, he of course realizes it but doesn't comment on it or show it in any way that he knows.

Xiao

How in the world did you two started dating is one of the most mysterious of mysteries in existence.

Both of you were equally stubborn on denying how you feel and even how the other feels!

It used to be something like this: "I have no feelings for the likes of you" but the second you were gone from his sight he'd still look back at your direction hoping to see you soon.

Basically you two are a mess. But a good kind of mess.

Always pointing how whatever either of you do is nothing big will make you stay up at night and think "Why did I say that!?"

Luckily to you two it's obvious how much you are in love. So even when you are a bit tough to one another you quickly get over it. Xiao would be usually second to apologize though...

"I didn't really mean what I said... So forget it will you?"

He tries to do better and so do you. So it's kind of sweet to see how your relationship changes.

Kaeya

You can say whatever you want he will still know what you really mean. It's like he's reading your mind. That's Kaeya for ya!

He's the type of person who pretends to take your words literally just so he can see your reaction.

"Oh? You hate me now? I suppose I'll leave since you clearly don't want to be around me" with that petty tone. If you end up admitting that you don't want him gone he's going to tease the living shit out of you.

But if you are more stubborn you'll see how far he can go for a joke...

Still it gets lonely and boring without you so it doesn't go too far. He'd hate to make you suffer.

He's not afraid to admit to that mistake "Did you miss me? Because I sure did... Let's not do something like this ever again"

From that time he'd just joke around how he's the worst to satisfy you and without you realizing he'd get closer and closer leaving you a flustered mess. He likes it more than being away from you.

Childe

If you say something rude to him he'd say something along the lines of "You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" or "Aww I love you too"

The tension between you two is sometimes too intense. A lot of teasing... sometimes even more flirting.

He likes to leave you without any chance to escape him. Be it by hugging you slightly too tight or by everyone's favorite kabedon.

Or sometimes he does something that just makes it almost impossible for you to respond- what I mean is that when he's confident enough he'll kiss you instead of wasting time with words.

In the end he always gotta win. And winning you over time and time again never gets old. The more "mad" you get afterwards the better.

But he sure does like it when you smile more. So he's not gonna be a total douche.

Diluc

He understands that sometimes it's easier to deny your feelings but... You're literally dating.

It's hard to admit your feelings and he never will force them out of you, it might make the moment awkward at times but it might be better than pressuring you.

He is always confused why you get worked up so easily. But he won't be scared to tell you that you are acting like a fool either.

"Calm down Y/N, you don't need to explain yourself whenever you do something for me... That said let me thank you for your assistance"

You might insult him on accident but he'd always just roll his eyes to this and not react in any other way.

Diluc isn't the most romantic person, however his small gestures are his main charm. Always looking out for you and making you feel so safe around you is enough...

Albedo

He might look a bit exhausted by it but in reality he isn't really bothered by it and it's easy to see once you talk to him.

But the other way around is a bit tricky. He can recognize where he completely messed up but if it's something little he probably won't notice it.

The way you act doesn't make it any easier either. Albedo can be quite oblivious at times so please don't treat him with silent treatment becouse he might actually start ignoring you and do his thing for some time, only to later pretend that nothing happened.

"Do you want something? I was a bit busy but now that I'm taking a break I can hear you out"

If you end up in an argument he'd try to rethink what he did but in the end it would be hard for him to see if he did any wrong since he'd think that all he did was give you time to cool off. So direct question was in order.

After getting the answer out of you he decided to make it up to you. Before you knew it he asked you to get ready to go out.

Next you end up on a little date not so far from the city and yet it felt like the whole world was just the two of you on this small part of the world.

"I want to understand you better Y/N... Will you give me another chance?"

Venti

Just you try to deny him your love. That's a dare. He's going to be sooo pouty.

"D'aww Y/N come on! Don't be like that~" he hugs you from behind looking up at your face.

He's rather affectionate in general. But he sees the thin line between you being uncomfortable and you just being a little bit embarrassed.

I imagine that someone like him knows a lot of ways to make his beloved swoon. He knows how is way with words after all.

And he knows how some of his words work on you. So you can bet that he's gonna use that against you.

All teasing aside Venti is extremely loving you know? His jokes are just his way to show you to not take everything so seriously.

Even when he's acting like an idiot he's your idiot. And no matter how you try to deny it you love him and he loves you back. That's the reality.

Sometimes you'll just sit somewhere far away from any other people and just enjoy the moment. Heck he'll even sing for you.

That's when it's the easiest for you to open up to him, that's why he'd often "steal you away" you from your regular duties from time to time.

~Mod Lisa

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 140

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,325ish

Summary: The Starks receive unexpected visitors, that come with a plan. 

Warning: Possible gif overload. Gifs aren’t mine. I just love Tony and Morgan.

Before the small Stark family knew it, it was October of 2023. And their house had become a wonderful home for them.

Morgan was four and almost the spitting image of her father. She was smart like him too. She loved working with her father in his workshop or playing outside in the tent Tony bought for her. 

Y/N had got into gardening, especially because they were kind of far away from any grocery store. Tony was a willing helping hand and was slowly becoming a small farm boy. It bought a few small goats, an alpaca, a couple of chickens, two cats, and was planning on getting a dog for Morgan for Christmas.

Steve and Natasha only visited when Tony was gone or Y/N and Morgan went to them. Tony was still struggling to forgive after everything, and Y/N wasn’t willing to push Tony more than he had willingly done himself.

Y/N was currently in the kitchen, making lunch, while Tony was “being helpful”.

“Are these our gojis?” Tony wondered, looking at the bowl of berries.

“They are not,” Y/N answered as she cut tomatoes.

“What’s wrong with ours?”

“Your alpaca ate them all.”

“Oh.”

“All of them.”

Tony laughed, moving to the other side of Y/N. “What a glowing endorsement. First of all Gerald is our alpaca.”

Y/N scoffed out a small chuckle. “He’s not my alpaca if he’s eating my goji’s.”

“Okay.” He grabbed a handful of berries. “They’re gonna be nice in the salad right there, right?”

“No.” Y/N quickly reach over to stop Tony. “Don’t, don’t, don’t!” Tony looked at her with big doe eyes. “Could you put it down?” She gently pushed his arm away. “And get out of my kitchen.”

“Okay.” He turned towards the stove and crashed into some pots. “Whoops.” Trying to bite back a smile, Y/N looked up at the ceiling. “We’re good here, right?”

“Yeah, we’re great.” She got back to chopping. “Tell Madam Secretary that lunch is in five.”

“I will collect our alpha female, posthaste,” Tony replied, before exiting the house.

Y/N couldn’t help but grin as she focused back on the food. She was so lucky. So very lucky.

~~~

Tony walked down the porch steps, clapping out a beat. 

“Chow time!” He called out to his daughter, heading towards her little play area. “Maguna?” He sat on a small chair outside of her tent. “Morgan H. Stark. Want some lunch?”

Morgan appeared from the fort with a suit helmet on and a fake suit glove. She had her gloved hand pointed at her father.

“Define lunch or be disintegrated,” she demanded in her young voice.

“Okay,” he ran his fingers down the helmet to the edge. “You should not be wearing that, okay? That is part of a special anniversary gift I’m making for mom.” He kissed the side of the helmet before removing the helmet from Morgan’s head and brushing the hair from her face.

“Okay.”

“There you go. Are you thinking about lunch? Wand a handful of crickets?”

“No,” she laughed.

“That’s what you want.” Tony held up the helmet. “How did you find this?”

“Garage.”

“Really? Were you looking for it?”

“No. I found it, though.”

“You like going to the garage, huh?” Morgan nodded as Tony lifted her up and set her on his hip. “So does daddy. It’s fine actually. Mom never wears anything I buy her.”

As they made their way to the house, a black car pulled up and parked in the driveway. Steve, Natasha, and Scott Lang stepped out as Y/N came out of the house to see what was holding Tony and Morgan up. They all were looking at Tony, who was avoiding Steve’s gaze and gave a slight nod to Natasha.

“Uncle Steve!” Morgan exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of her father’s arms. “Auntie Nat!”

Tony failed to keep her there, and let her run to welcome the guests. Y/N and Tony shared a look. They knew that, since Scott was with them, this wasn’t just a friendly visit. Y/N walked down the porch, to where Morgan was chatting Steve’s ear off in his arms.

“Hey, Mo,” Y/N called to her daughter. “Why don’t we go inside and make drinks for everyone? Then you can talk your uncle’s ear off.”

“Okay,” she sighed, turning to reach Y/N. Y/N took her from Steve.

“Please don’t ask anything stupid of him,” Y/N whispered to Steve. “He’s—we’re finally happy.”

Steve didn’t bother to answer, which Y/N huffed about before heading into the house with Morgan. Tony, Steve, Nat, and Scott gathered on the porch as Morgan and Y/N made drinks inside. Scott was explaining something when Y/N brought a tray of drinks out to Tony. She wished she could hear what they were talking about, but she needed to stay in with Morgan. Y/N watched from the window as she fed Morgan.

“Now, we know what it sounds like—“ Scott said, finishing his story.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything really impossible?” Steve interrupted.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony asked, handing out drinks. 

“Thank you.”

“In Layman's terms, it means you're not coming home.”

“I did,” Scott said.

“No, you accidentally survived. It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a... What do you call it?”

“A time heist?”

“Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn't we think of this before? Oh, because it's laughable? Because it's a pipedream?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.”

“We can snap our own fingers,” Natasha stated. “We can bring everyone back.”

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony responded.

“I don’t believe we would,” Steve said.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won't help if there's no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist. I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise.” Tony sat down.

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel,” Scott replied. “That means no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events—“

Tony held a hand out. “I’m gonna stop you right there, Scott. Are you seriously telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on Back To The Future?”

“No.”

“Good. You had me worried there. 'Cause that'd be horse shit. That's not how quantum physics works.”

“Tony…” Natasha called. “We have to take a stand.”

“We did stand. And yet, here we are.”

“I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did,” Scott was pleading. 

Y/N could see that Tony was getting overwhelmed and she quickly told her daughter to go and save him. 

“And now, now we have a chance to bring her back,” Scott continued. “To bring everyone back. And you're telling me that won't even—“

“That’s right, Scott, I won’t even. I got a kid.”

Morgan ran up to Tony, who quickly set her in his lap. “Mommy told me to come and save you,” she said.

“Good job. I’m saved.” Tony stood up, facing his friends. "I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I... I missed you guys, it was... Oh, and table's set for six.”

“Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you and Y/N, I really am. But this is a second chance.”

“I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again. If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch.” He headed inside.

“Talk to Y/N about it. Think it over.”

“No need. We can’t risk this.”

Tony entered the house, holding Morgan close. He went straight into the kitchen to get washed up for lunch. Y/N watched as their three visitors walked back to Steve’s car. Steve looked back at the house, making eye contact with Y/N through the window.

~~~

Tony was quieter than usual the rest of the day. This worried Y/N, but she couldn’t let it get to her. She needed to take care of Morgan. They made dinner together and Tony and Morgan chatted loudly over dinner. He even offered to do the dishes while Y/N tucked in Morgan. 

As Tony finished the last of the dishes, he lost hold of the hose, causing water to spray everywhere. Including the small shelves beside the sink that held a photo of Howard and a photo of Tony and Peter. Seeing the photo of Peter slightly wet, Tony grabbed it to dry it off. Looking down he say Peter’s face. He missed that kid so much. He looked up, with a determination he hadn’t felt in a while.

When Y/N came down from tucking in Morgan, Tony was at a table. He was talking to FRIDAY and playing around with a hologram. She knew very well to leave him alone when he was like this, so she grabbed her book and curled up on the couch.

Tony was still going strong about an hour and a half later:

"Look at a mod inspiration, let me see what check out,” he told FRIDAY. “So, recommend one last sim before we pack it in for the night. This time, in the shape of a mobius strip, inverted, please.”

“Processing,” FRIDAY responded.

“Give me that eigenvalue. That, particle factoring, and a spectral decomp. That will take a second.” He stuffed some food in his mouth.

“Just a moment.”

“And don’t worry if it doesn’t pan out. I’m just kinda—“

“Model rendered.”

Tony fell back into a chair, in complete shock and amazement. “Shit!”

“Shit,” Morgan giggled.

Tony turned around to see Morgan sitting on the stairs behind him, large smile on her face.

“Sshhh,” Tony shushed, finger over his mouth. “What are you doing up, little miss?” He whispered.

“Shit,” she repeated.

“No, we don't say that. Only Mommy says that word. She coined it, it belongs to her.”

“Why you up?”

“'Cause I got some important shit going on here.” Morgan raised a brow at her father, not impressed. “What do you think? No, I got something on my mind. I got something on my mind.”

“Was it Juice Pops?”

“Sure was. That’s extortion.” He stood up and took his daughter’s hand. “Great minds think alike. Juice Pops, exactly was on…” Tony looked back at the model before heading to the kitchen with Morgan, “…my mind.”

~~~

“You done?” Tony asked with a smile on his face. Morgan was lying in her bed, finishing a Juice Pop. “Yeah, now you are.” He took the popsicle stick before wiping Morgans lips with his sleeve and pushing her head onto her pillow. “That face goes there.”

“Tell me a story,” Morgan said.

“A story… Once upon a time, Maguna went to bed. The end.”

“That’s a horrible story,” Morgan giggled.

“Come on, that's your favorite story. I love you tons.” He kissed Morgan on the forehead as he stood up.

“I love you 3000.”

Tony grinned, “wow,” he mouthed, putting the popsicle stick in his mouth. He turned off her lamp and headed to the door. “3000. That’s crazy. Go to bed. Or I’ll see all your toys. Night, night.”

Tony shut the door and heading to the living room. Y/N was still curled up reading.

“Not that it's a competition, but she loves me 3000,” Tony stated as he came up to the side of the couch. 

“Oh does she now?” Y/N questioned.

“You were somewhere on the low 6 to 900 range.” Y/N scoffed as Tony chewed on the stick and looked at the fireplace. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, it's just a book on composting,” she responded.

“What's new with composting?”

“Just—“

“I figured it out, by the way.”

Y/N looked up at Tony. “You know, just so we're talking about the same thing—“

“Time travel.”

“What? Wow… I… That’s amazing, and… terrifying.”

“That’s right.” Tony sat down on the other end of the couch.

Y/N reached over and squeezed Tony’s shoulder. “We got really lucky.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“A lot of people didn’t.”

“No, I can't help everybody.”

“It sort a seems like you can.”

“Not if I stop. I can put a pin in it right now, and stop.”

“Tony… getting each other to stop has been one of the few failures of our lives.”

He smiled lightly at her. “I sometimes feel I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of a lake... go to bed.”

“But would you be able to rest? Cause I sure as hell won’t be able to… I’ll stand by your side no matter you choose.”

“You already know what I’ll choose though, don’t you? Cause you’ve seen in.”

“I haven’t seen it… but I know that last fight isn’t the last.”

“I just… I can’t lose you and Morgan.”

“You won’t.” Y/N grabbed Tony’s hand. “We’re going to do this. Together…” She leaned in and kissed him softly. “Your lips taste like Juice Pops,” she giggled against his lips.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” 

She shook her head before kissing him again, this time more heated. Tony pulled her onto his lap.

“What would you say to grabbing some Juice Pops and taking this upstairs?” Y/N panted slightly.

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” He placed on last kiss on Y/N’s lips before standing them both up. “I’ll grab the pops, meet you up stairs.”

“We have to be quiet though. Last time Morgan almost walked in on us.”

“Oh, don’t worry. FRIDAY won’t let that happen again.”

next chapter >

NOTES: Sorry about the time jump. Please send in requests for one shots or questions you want answered about the missing time. Try to be specific.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[lu-lus-dicks]

For cursed mods response:

1. I can see that. You're very much strike me as a sexy lil cutie with gremlins in their head

2. Please do daddy

4. Should I be telling you to go to bed more often?

5. I remember you saying that in one of the posts

6. Somehow I saw that coming, but now I'm curious as to why you know polish

For traumatized mods response:

1. Nothing to say other than I'm writing all of this down as we speak

2. See? A cutie patootie pie like I said

3. Just fuck already

5. Depending on what you do for work, this can be so funny. I don't know why but the first thought that came to mind was "stripper". Do with that information what you will

6. Incest

8. Dick pics or not real

10. Don't atart giving me boners now daddy

As for the lulu headcanons, somw aren't even headcanons they're just canons. Gonna spoil some of your fun so here's lulu lore

1. Could be. No idea, haven't been to a therapist to unoack all that, but I genuinely love seeing people laugh so the humour is also a part of that. I would consider becoming a comedian if I ever had anything original to say. Once you figure out the patterns of my "jokes" I become so incredibly unfunny it's unreal

2. Yeah. I can make really good dumplings thanks to my mom (she's the greatest cook of all time. I'm so used to her delicious cooking I can't eat restaurant food anymore. Nearly barfed once because of this)

3. It's not imposter syndrome if I actually have no talent <3 I just have extraordinary memory and people mistake that for talent. The great memory doesn't even work when I need it to

4. It's a good thing you all don't know what I look like. Fat af (not obese yet I think but I'll get there probably) if you saw me irl and still thought "hot" I would honestly advise you to go check your eyes

5. Not really. I don't like liquids, they make me uncomfy. I have one type of fizzy drink I like and that's all I drink. Fun lulu fact I've prolly said before: lulu has never just straight up drank alcohol, he just gets drunk off alcoholic chocolates because he has a chocolate addiction and is a super lightweight

6. Only when it spontaneously appears in my brain. I write cool gift ideas down in my notes but I always forget to check them later

7. Can confirm, unfortunately I have a small PP fetish :( (fun fact, Lulu actually wishes he had a pp. Not trans just a weird fantasy about wanting to scare away men with it)

8. Sorry to dissapoint, but I am so stupid that I have no idea what classifies as a minority. Fyi I'm a caucasian white woman

9. I don't think I have anyone that I hate tbh. My default setting is just to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and never been a fan of the idea of revenge. Except cAnon. Fuck that guy

10. Idk but probably accurate. I actually have an excel spreadsheet of all the sonic the hedgehog fics I've read and rated them all with a very complex system and the highest rating of any of them is 125. As for the kinkiest or weirdest one it's either gotta be one dead dove do not eat crackfic where sonic the hedgehog fucks lancelot from the Arthurian legends (sonic had like 10 nipples in that one or something like that) or it was this other one where plants were like tentacles and got inserted through their dickholes. They gave birth in that one i think? Can't remember

What are your hcs for nunalastor?

I have a whole list of facts about nunalastor on my phone. I am their stalker fr

but as for headcanons here's some of em

traumatized mod def adopted cursed mod at some point. no way cursed mod was the one to make friends with traumatized mod.

cursed mod is a lil cutie patootie pie, even if the stuff they say is batshit crazy

they definitely fuck, fr fr

they kiss eachother goodnight and take turns on who gets to be tucked in

while fucking cursed mod and traumatized mod complain about cursed mod's work enemy together

cursed mod is either European (or asian) or loves talking to people in general (since they speak 4 languages I think?)

traumatized mod has the best kinks of the two

they both have small peepees

traumatized mod tops (obviously)

they actually hate me and I am being the most annoying person in their life <3

[willddheartt]

Scary Games | Ranboo

Summary: Ranboo plays a scary game on stream and youre there to help him when it gets too bad. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 772

Masterlist

Halloween, your favourite time of year. All the spooky movies playing all month, and decorations hung up in the stores and around people’s houses. You love it. 

Ranboo called you up earlier to tell you he was doing a ‘scary stream’ and wanted you to accompany him on the journey, you were over the moon excited. He was never one for scary stuff and got spooked super easily, the two of you could never watch horror movies together because the entire time he’d be hiding his face and looking away from the screen while you were getting into the movie and yelling at the characters for doing stupid things that ended up getting them killed. 

You sat on the edge of his bed as he was getting things ready for the stream. It was already getting dark outside and he insisted on keeping the lights off the ‘set the spooky mood’  “You sure you’re ready for this Boo?” you chuckled lightly, remembering the last time you showed him a trailer for a spooky movie you were excited for.  “It can’t be too bad. It’s just a scary Minecraft map,” he shrugged, “But you’re still moral support.” You laughed.  “I’ll be here to take over if you get too spooked.” 

-

The jump scares on the map and through his donations got him every time, you had to suppress a small laugh each time he’d jump in his chair. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed, but you could see the screen enough to know what was going on. 

“Oh my god!” Ranboo jumped, his donations screaming at him. You laughed, He looked at you over his shoulder, “It’s not funny.” he pouted tabbing out of the game and laying his hands in his head.  “Yeah chat if you weren’t here when we started, we’re joined with my friend Y/N, They’re here for support.”  “And I will finish the game if it gets too scary.” you laughed  “Yes, you have offered, but I will get through this.” Ranboo was determined 

The donations came through his headset, screaming once again making him jump.  “Okay, Can you like pull up a chair?” he asked looking back at you  You laughed, nodding. You sat next to Ranboo in his old gaming chair, swivelling back and forth beside him until he grabbed the arm to stop you.  “Sorry,” you mumbled 

He made more progress in the map than you thought he would be able to before tabbing out again. Taking his hands off his mouse and keyboard to lets his head fall in his hands. Begging the mods for nice media share videos.  “It’s okay, Boo.” You laughed rubbing his back, letting him know you were there and it was just a game  “It’s so bad, Y/N,” he shook his head  “Turn down the dono sounds, that’s the worse part.” you agreed, “The map isn’t that bad it’s the donos.”  “You know what, Yeah,” he said going into sounds and turning down the screams 

“You can do it.” You encouraged, “It’s just a game Ranboo.”  “I hate it.” he sighed, sounding like he was going to cry.  “If you want me to take over just say the word, Boo.” You chuckled  His chat proceeded to go on about the game, some people commenting on the nice and you gave him, saying ‘Boo’ was cute and ironic. 

“No!” He yelled taking his headset off  “You’re almost there! C’mon, you got this!” You encouraged, turning to face him. “You’re so close!”  Ranboo shook his head, “No I can’t.”  “Aw,” you chuckled, “Come here,” You pulled him into a hug, laughing.  “Mods, bring back the media shares,” he said  “Do you want me to take over?” you asked him quietly  “Please.” He whispered to you  You switched chairs, Ranboo kept his headset in but you took over the movements in-game. He talked to chat like he was the one playing but you continued through like it was no big deal. 

As soon as you reached the end of the map he went on to end the stream, having taken almost 2 hours to complete the map and needing a break from the scares. 

“Seriously tho, are you okay Boo?” you asked  “Kind of.” He shook his head, He pulled you into another hug. Through the course of the stream, he’d grab you for a hug anytime it got to be too much for him. You were always there to protect him from the jump scares through anything. 

[childrenofthenightt]

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

---------

3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out.  “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream.  Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

[ecto-american]

The Other Side

Phic Phight Oneshot for Kiinotasha and KC: (AU) Born a halfa and raised in the Ghost Zone by his mother, Danny struggles with his human identity when a permanent man made portal appears in the Ghost Zone.

On AO3 and FFN

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

Danny never questioned his life until that man made portal spawned. He never forgot when he first saw it six years ago while playing with Youngblood.

Naturally, they were playing aliens and spacemen, Danny's favorite. Earlier in the play session, they had found it, and it was deemed part of their spaceship. It was just a metal outline, an octagon. Thick enough that they could sit, and they pretended that the limited space was the entrance. Obviously on the left side was space, and the right side was their ship. Eventually their moms called them home, and during dinner when asked about his day, he told his mom about it.

She frowned, and she asked him for more details. Having played on it all day, he described it perfectly. His mom paled, and she forbid him from going there again, but she didn't expand on why.

He saw no reason to be afraid. It was just a metal shape. There were far more dangerous places in the Ghost Zone. So the next day, he told Youngblood about his mom's weird reaction. His mom had reacted the same, but didn't say why. His dad explained that it was dangerous, but not what about it was dangerous. Danny didn't have a dad, but he was sure that if he did, he probably would have said the same thing. But neither child could get it. What was dangerous about a shape?

So they just played with it again the next day, and they lied to their moms about what they did.

Two years later, another ghost had join to make them a trio. Her name was Box Lunch, and she was honestly a lot of fun. But she was still a girl, and they didn't tell her about their secret fun location until they were sure she didn't have cooties. When they showed her, she instantly knew what it was.

"That's a ghost portal!" she exclaimed. Youngblood and Danny thought she was stupid. Ghost portals didn't stay anywhere permanently. They opened and closed at random, when the human world and Ghost Zone would temporarily merge and allow for a rip to tear. But it always mended back together quickly.

"No it's not," Youngblood scowled. Box Lunch made a face at him.

"Yeah-huh!" she insisted. "My mommy and daddy get into the human world all the time! She said some people there have been trying to make a permanent portal to here!"

"Nu-uh!" Youngblood argued. "My dad said that humans wouldn't do that, they're more afraid of us than we are of them!"

"Yeah-huh!" Box Lunch said more forcefully. "My parents were human once, they said that people constantly wanna hunt us in the human world! And that they're coming here!"

"If they're afraid of us, then why come here?" Youngblood challenged.

"What else would it be?" Box Lunch asked, crossing her arms.

"It's a weirdo ghost's lair!"

And as they bickered back and forth, Danny had remained quiet. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. His friends often forgot that Danny wasn't just a ghost. He was also human.

Not that he was a ghost who was once human, that died. He was both, and he always had been. Born that way, according to his mom, because his dad was human. Danny didn't know too much about him, and he never really thought to ask.

He knew that his name was Jack, and how he looked like. His mom had hung a photo of him in his room so that he'd know; blue eyes, black hair, with a square jaw and in a distinctive orange jumpsuit. The orange suit always reminded him of the blue one his mom wore underneath a lab coat. She said he looked just like his dad when he was in his human form, and he could absolutely see it. Though as a ghost he had white hair that he seemingly inherited from nobody, with his mom's light blue skin and yellow-green eyes. As a ghost, he matched with a black jumpsuit, though as a human, he preferred regular clothes.

Most ghosts had learned of Danny's true nature early on as the news slowly spread when he was born. They loved him and accepted him as one of them. He could go out into the Zone as a human, but it always felt weird. So he was always a ghost.

That night, as he got tucked in for bed, he decided to bring the metallic object up again.

"Box Lunch said that the big metal shape is a permanent ghost portal," he blurted out. His mom stared at him with wide yellow eyes, and so he knew that Box Lunch was actually right. "Is it?"

She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I believe so," she confirmed. Danny sat up.

"Is that why you don't want me going near it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. Danny cocked his head curiously.

"But if I'm also human, wouldn't they be okay with me?" he wondered. His mom paused for a long, long time. "I'm also one of them."

"I don't know, honey," she admitted. He could tell that she did know. She kissed his forehead. "I'll talk to you about it when you're a little bit older, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now good night, sweetie."

It was four more years before it really became relevant again. He had essentially forgotten about the unoperational portal as homeschooling, other friends, and general undead life had continued on for him and his mom.

Youngblood didn't age, since he was once human and died, and so as Danny got older, they hung out less. While Box Lunch, a born ghost, grew, he became distant from her too for unrelated reasons. Danny wasn't alone, however. For a while, he hung out with other ghosts who had died young before he met his best friend. He was a bit older than him when he had died, sixteen to his fourteen, but Johnny 13 (and his shadow) and him had almost instantly become friends and hung out nearly every day. Often his girlfriend joined them too. His mom also allowed him to keep a newly dead dog that had followed him home, that alternated from a puppy to a large hulking beast of a monster dog. Danny named him Cujo.

Ghost Writer provided lessons in the arts on Tuesdays and Thursdays for him and a few other younger ghosts, which did include Johnny and Kitty. On the other days, his mom homeschooled him in her passion: the sciences. His favorite memories were of him and his mother in her lab, doing home experiments and building a wide variety of things.

She indulged in whatever nonsense he wanted to build, which included but wasn't limited to: rock cannon, small spaceships, figuring out how they could grow potatoes on the moon like the man in the martian book did, using ecto energy to cook poptarts.

Often her friend, Technus, but better known to Danny as Uncle Nico, came by to do more of the tech-based stuff. Danny believed that Uncle Nico could do anything with technology. He was one of the ghosts that often went through the natural portals, and whenever he came back, he had something for Danny. Typically game consoles and games, but sometimes fun little useless knick knacks that Danny treasured deeply. He fixed those game consoles many times, and also showed him how to download and install cheats and mods to make them more fun.

And after a morning full of science or the arts, Danny would eat lunch then rush off to play with his friends, Cujo always on his heels.

Looking back, he never did much as a human. He had to resort to his human side to rest, or would default to it if he fell asleep. It felt weird being in human form amongst ghosts, and so he was just always a ghost. He never thought much about it, and nobody ever asked him to be a human around them. It was just how things were.

On the day he'd never forget, it was just him and Johnny. His girlfriend had opted not to come. Danny couldn't remember the original topic, but it made him remember the portal. As soon as he told Johnny about it, the two idly scratching Cujo as the dog slept in between them in puppy form, the ghost's eyes lit up excitedly.

"Dude! We have to check it out!" Johnny insisted.

"I dunno," Danny hesitated. "My mom said that I should stay away."

"Come on, it'll be sick! I've always wanted to go back to the human world," Johnny begged. "And you've never even been there, despite being half-human!"

Danny paused. Well, when you put it like that...

"Okay!" he agreed. He floated up from his seat a bit so he could untangle his legs to stand. Cujo immediately got up from his spot laying near them, tail wagging excitedly. "Let's go! I think I still know where it is!"

It had changed since he last saw it. It now had huge yellow and black doors in place of the previous blank space, and it seemed somehow bigger than he remembered it years ago. But it was unmistakably the man made portal.

Even now, he didn't get what would be too scary about it that his mom would encourage him to stay far away. It was just a door.

"This is so fucking cool," Johnny whispered as he touched the door. "Imagine...no more trying to hunt down a portal. We can just come and go as we please...seeing our lost loved ones...seeing my mom again…It's been so long...I dunno if she'd even remember me..."

Danny didn't say anything, but he did begin to think and truly wonder for the first time what his dad was like. His mom never talked about him, and he never really asked. He and his mom were happy, and he also had Uncle Nico. Was his dad kind? Did he also like science? Why wasn't he here? Did his dad even know about him?

"Do you think we can open it?" Danny asked. Cujo licked his fingers, and Danny scratched his head. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at him.

"I dunno," he admitted. His hand turned into a fist and he knocked on the door. "It seems really solid. I don't think we can just break it or something."

"Hm. Lemme see," Danny mused. He came closer, and he put his hand on the door. It was cold, and Johnny was right; it was metallic, just like the outer edge he used to play on, and it would not break easily. His finger traced the middle line of the two doors. "Hm. Maybe we can pry the door open."

"The humans made this," Johnny spoke. Danny stared at him. No shit. "No, no, I mean. Maybe you should do something to it as a human." Danny thought on this, and he shrugged. Couldn't hurt.

His transformation rings came and went, leaving him in his human state. He was just in a t-shirt and jeans today, and he stayed floating near the portal.

His hand had barely touched the portal when it opened for him.

Danny gasped in shock, jerking his hand back as it opened. Johnny had also jumped, going backwards a bit, and Cujo's fur went up as he barked. It fully opened, and he couldn't see anything but the green ooze. This wasn't anything like Uncle Nico had mentioned natural portals being like. They normally acted like a window you could see through. But it was an unnatural portal made by man.

"Maybe this isn't such a-" Johnny began, but Danny had already stepped through.

There was a weird in between area that shined bright blue that he never heard Uncle Nico describe. But in this in between, he could see exactly what the ghost had mentioned. He knew he was still in the Zone, but he could look out the portal into the human world like a window.

A man in an orange jumpsuit, with black hair that was graying, was sitting in a room that reminded him very much of his mom's lab. He was staring at the portal in confusion, likely because it had randomly opened, and Danny instantly knew who it was. He had no idea if his dad could see him, but he found himself rushing backwards, and back into the Zone.

The second he returned, he became a ghost again, and he silently began to fly away as he tried to process. Johnny asked no questions, only following, Cujo following them both.

That night, at dinner, he finally asked.

"What was dad like?"

His mom stared at him for a moment.

"Well, he was very sweet," she said slowly. "Very bubbly personality. Always went out of his way to help his friends." She smiled softly as she talked about him. "Adored fudge."

"Did he like science?" Danny wondered. His mom gave a short laugh.

"Oh boy he adored it. Not the best at it, but he had a lot of enthusiasm," he replied. "We used to do experiments together all the time."

Danny stared down at his food as he thought. He looked up to her, and he could tell that she already knew what he was going to ask.

"How come I never met him?" he wondered. She sighed.

"...He doesn't like ghosts," she replied. "Aspiring ghost hunter when I met him, actually. I was alive then. Had the same ambitions." At his shocked look, she laughed again. "I know, ironic. We had dated for about two years officially. But then...I died. It was winter, and I was driving late at night during a snowstorm. My car slid off the road, and into a river. And I died from my injuries. I found that I could disguise myself as human, and I was in denial. So I just...continued on."

"...Why?" he asked. His mom shrugged in defeat.

"I guess I just didn't want to admit that it was over. I hadn't done everything I wanted to do yet. I was still in college, and I felt like my life had been forcibly finished before it had even truly started," she admitted. "Jack had proposed, but I had declined. I was too afraid to tell him. He began pursuing ghost hunting more seriously as a profession and building weapons and portals. I found out I was having you, and he was so excited to be a dad. I began getting scared. I didn't know how long I could continue the lie. I didn't know how it all would affect you. Then the police found my car and body, and I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. So I left. I had no clue how to face him, or even how safe you might be if we talked. Especially after you were born, and I realized that you were half ghost."

The more she talked, she more somber she became. By the end, she was sniffling a little. Guilt began to wash over him.

"Have you ever talked to him again? Like after I was born?" he wondered. She shook her head no. "How come you've never taken me to the human world?"

"I had considered it. But it's too dangerous," she explained. "Humans aren't like ghosts. If they knew that you were also ghost...you wouldn't wanna find out what happens."

"...Do you regret any of it?" Do you regret me?

She smiled softly despite the conversation.

"You were the best thing to ever happen to me," she told him. "I may have been very anxious about being alone, and how you may turn out despite it all. But you were born healthy and perfect in every way. You're absolutely the light of my afterlife."

Danny smiled back, feeling some reassurance. His mom stood up, leaning over to peck his forehead before picking up her plate. He heard Cujo scramble out from under the table, ears up in excitement.

"I think I'll finish this later," she told him. "I'm not too hungry tonight." She glanced down at the dog. "This isn't for you."

Cujo whined, following her as she put her plate in the microwave. Danny nodded, sparing a small smile to Cujo and ushering for him to come over. He slipped him a piece of chicken as his mom left.

Later that night, Danny couldn't sleep. He was too busy sorting out his rushing thoughts. He was of course still him. Nothing really changed, but there was this new growing emptiness. Danny was still Danny, but there was a whole other side to him that knew nothing about. It began to eat at him more and more. Who was this human side besides just human Danny who lived in the Ghost Zone? He didn't know.

He now wished that his mom had taken him to the human world before so that he could know. She did say that there was a risk in the humans knowing he was also a ghost, which he didn't get. The ghosts accepted him as one of their own, so why wouldn't the humans? He didn't get humans at all. And he needed to know more about them. He was one of them.

By breakfast, his mind was made up.

After an unusually boring lesson with Ghost Writer together, Danny immediately went to Johnny once their small class of sorts were dismissed.

"I have to go back." Danny couldn't breath for a moment. "I have to see what it's like. Like you said, I'm also human, and I've never been there. All my unlife, I've been a ghost, here, in the Ghost Zone. My dad's in the human world. And I need to know what it's like to be human. What it means. So I can maybe meet him one day."

Johnny nodded.

"I think I get it," he said slowly. "I'll come with you. Keep you company. I think I could pass for human pretty well, even if I have to say that I have some kind of sickly disease that keeps me pale."

Danny grinned.

"Thanks," he replied. "Come on."

It took no time at all to find the portal. Danny stared up at it, his breath once more stolen as he tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't go through it.

Nothing came to mind.

"It's okay if you don't wanna," Johnny said. Danny shook his head no.

"I have to do this," he replied. "I need to do this."

Johnny patted his back, and that was all the subconscious encouragement Danny needed to turn human and press his hand to the door. Once more, it opened. The fact that he's even able to open it made him know that this was something he was meant to do. He once again stepped through with Johnny right behind him.

[genderneutralmc]

Hi! I just followed you and i love your blog! Can I request a fluff/angst of MCxMammon? Like, Mammon comes back home drunk on midnight, goes straight to MC's room and letting his tears fall free, opens up to MC? He tells them how much he thinks his brothers hate him and nobody in this world loves him, but MC comforts him saying that his bros love him, as well as MC themselves do. That leads to sweet love confession and sleeping cuddled together. (i've probably made this confusing... Sorry.)

Warnings: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 1007

~ Mod Mr Potato Lord

It was past midnight in the House Of Lamentation, the sky was pitch black, the absurdly long corridors empty, and the only distinct sound that could be heard in the distance was a muffled voice. The voice sounded choked and dragged. Despite being a contrast to the devastating silence of the house, it seemed familiar to some of the residents.

A man with messy white hair staggered down the hall. Mammon was his name. He was the one to whom the voice belonged. It was late, so late that even Asmo was asleep at the moment, but Mammon didn't seem to be the slightest sleepy. Mammon sounded very much awake.

A slight melody escaped his lips as he tried to get to his room. The music wasn't a specific song, but he still sang it while changing the rhythm every two seconds. But Mammon's body failed to dance and walk at the same time, especially in such a drunken state, leading him towards the opposite direction of his room.

Everyone could see how the tawny skinned man was drunk, his wobbling figure, messy state, and slurred speech giving it away. So when Mammon opened the door to the room that didn't belong to him. Made his way to the bed that also wasn't his and woke up the real owner of the room. MC knew why he was like that.

"Mammon, what the fuck." MC whispered carefully to not wake the others. "You... You're drunk." "MCCC..." The man clutched MC's shirt in his hands, and his desperate hands reached them for a hug. After a few seconds, a small whimper could be heard leaving his mouth.

"Mammon? Mammon, are you okay?" Their voice sounded desperate. With some difficulties due to the reluctance of the white-haired man, they pulled apart from the hug. They looked at his watery eyes as if searching for the problem. "What happened?"

"Ya don't need to know." Mammon passed his index finger on his nose, soon using his hands to try to get rid of the tears that kept falling. But the human didn't move or forget they kept staring down at Mammon, with gentle eyes that said, "It's going to be okay, you can tell me."

Mammon averted his gaze, afraid of staring too much into the human's kind eyes and ending spilling every single detail of his life or his feelings. He could feel himself sobering up, and against every last drop of common sense in his brain, he spoke: "Do ya think my brothers love me?"

MC snickered, stopping their laugh when seeing the man's expression. Did he seriously question that? Softening their face, the human brought Mammon closer to them, hugging him a little. "Of course they do Mammon, what makes you think that?"

"C'mon MC, ya know how I am." The white-haired man said, stopping when he looked at the genuinely confused face of the human. "I'm good for nothin' scum bag that only knows how to steal, they always say that they're right, ya know. I can't do shit for myself, and whenever I go out, I get into a lot of trouble. I am in debt with the witches, and I owe them buncha money. I have no personality besides stealin' and pretendin' to be cool when I know I'm not."

"They think I don't know, but I do ya know? They think I'm stupid, and sometimes I think I am too. I can hear all the awful things they say about me and it..." Mammon was interrupted by a single sob escaping his mouth, tears streaming down his face, but he refused to stop. "... It... It hurts ya know? I... I just... I keep pretending that when people say I'm like that, I ain't bothered, but it hurts... It hurts... It hurts so so much."

Mammon managed to end, painful sobs escaping his mouth during the entire time and tears going down his face like a leaking faucet. MC was speechless. They hugged the man and passed their fingers through his hair, soothing him.

After he stopped crying, the human broke the embrace and spoke up. "Mammon looks at me, now when you look at yourself, you might see all these bad things about yourself but want to know what I see? I see a beautiful man that always wears a smile brighter than the sun on his face. I see a tender brother that is loved deeply by his family. I see someone that always helps his brothers and takes the blame most of the time whenever they get in trouble."

"I see someone who once spent the whole day hanging in the ceiling because he didn't want his little brother to get in trouble for trying to sell Lucifer's things to buy a concert ticket. I see someone that everyone loves and cherishes, someone that his family has long talks about how he helped them or made them smile by a simple gesture. I see you, and I love the person I see. So don't you fucking dare say the person I love is a worthless scum bag."

"Y... You... You love me?" Mammon blinked twice, he couldn't see the human face very well in the dark, but he could see how their eyes emitted sincerity. "I... I love you too."

"You do? Then promise me something, promise you'll never forget how the person I love is amazing and how deeply your brothers and I love you."

"...I promise." Mammon hesitated before saying, but as the words left his mouth, he felt his heart getting lighter, and he could breathe better. "... Can I... Can I sleep here?" He closed his eyes, afraid of the answer.

"Oh please, you sleep here almost every day, and now you're going to be shy?" MC playfully teased before laying on the mattress and extending their arms, welcoming Mammon in them, who accepted the invite fast. Soon MC and Mammon were snoring softly, cuddling in each other's arms, and enjoying the warmth of the embrace and the comforter.

[prettycooregrey]

aaaaaaaa @yukiyuuki‘s tags are so good it makes me want to talk abt what I think this panel means some more,,,,

the panel in question:

Post under the cut!

So when I was in middle school I had this blowout fight with my dad about something stupid and it escalated into yelling. But y’know, yelling back at your parents gets you in even deeper shit, so like... it’s best not to.

We had this cheap set of window blinds at the time that we got from a discount outlet that were “supposed” to look like wood but were really just plastic and tbh you couldn’t fool anyone. So in the middle of this fight I feel like I’m going to explode because I’m trapped in a fight with my dad and he’s yelling at me--instead of yelling back, I turned around and sank my teeth into the blinds like a bite block.

Again: these were made of cheap plastic and it left a very clear indent of my teeth. But the blinds were newish, they were a pain in the ass and took two men with DIY know-how to put them up, and my parents had to be careful with money, so they weren’t replaced for many years after. Any time I walked into the kitchen I would see it, and I would feel (irrationally, mind you) ashamed at my “loss of control.”

That’s what the phone is to Mike.

He’s had it for a very significant portion of the comic, over 40 chapters.

This is Call Waiting, page 2. It was posted in June 2011, just over ten years ago now. This is a very long ways back from the current chapter (Eternal Flame).

Oliver’s commentary on the page notes that Mike’s family is pretty comfortable as, in 2008, an iPhone would have been pretty expensive -- especially for a teenager. Mike was so desperate for the phone that he cashed in his birthday and Christmas presents for it so he could text Sandy.

sidenote: It’s been mentioned, probably by Mod Brambles iirc, that Mike’s lockscreen has never changed. It has always been this picture of Sandy from when they were much younger.

During their fight/breakup, Mike threw it very hard and with very little care across the room, causing the screen to crack. Presumably, like my window blinds, this serves as a permanent physical reminder of what happened that night. The phone is his link to Sandy, and represents nearly the whole of their relationship. Every since getting together, Mike and Sandy have met face-to-face twice, and all other communication has been through letters and phone lines. Mike’s cell phone is representative of them as a couple.

And... it’s about what you’d expect from two teenagers who have nothing in common.

In page 64 of Eternal Flame, Mike looks down at his cracked screen and tells his friend that they’re going to “get rid of distractions.”

As yukiyuuki said in their tags, this doesn’t just mean Francis. It means Lucy, too. Mike intends to continue his relationship with Sandy through the phone (with promised schedules calls and more frequent replies). But every time he unlocks it to text her... he’s going to see these cracks in the screen.

another sidenote: I don’t believe Mike would go out of his way to fix the phone within the confines of the narrative. The phone is expensive and a repair would be as bad--touchscreen electronics, if not insured, can be less costly to just replace instead of fixing. And while Mike gets along with his parents, unlike my relationship with my dad, he still understandably shrinks like a violet when they’re angry at him. also, Vero would have to dedicate writing/art to a scene as such and she has better things to be working on irt the comic it’s gonna be soooo funny if I’m wrong.

anyway.

additionally, there’s plenty of analysis on the way Mike sees cheating/cheaters and @bramblepaws​ put it a lot better than I ever could have, check it out here. the point is that he takes loyalty and commitment very seriously. while it wasn’t technically cheating since she’d dumped him immediately prior, I’m willing to wager that the fact that Mike went out and kissed Lucy as soon as he was cut loose is going to weight very heavily on their relationship for the rest of the time they’re in it, even and especially if it’s only by his own guilt. he absolutely saw this as a hiccup and not a true breakup, since it probably didn’t even last an hour. so not only was Sandy compromising fidelity, (wrt to Bramble’s post: “I really love him”/”you’re so... nice”), so was he.

after all, this wasn’t exactly the same at the other two kisses they’ve shared...

One of these things is NOT like the others, if you catch my meaning.

And while none of these kisses were technically cheating on Sandy or disrespecting his feelings toward her (the first two were before they got back together and the third is, of course, right after their breakup/makeup), Mike has always looked back on them as such because they represent the idea that when Sandy left, Mike fell in love with someone else and therefore he wasn’t “loyal enough,” hence the trauma surrounding being perceived as a cheater by his peers.

yet another sidenote: it occurs to me that these three kisses each have different instigators. the Confrontation one is instigated by Lucy, the Pillow Talk one is instigated by Mike, and while you could argue that Mike instigated in Eternal Flame, the truth is that they both made the decision and came together into that kiss and therefore it was a mutual decision.

so yeah. not only does Mike have another “tally” in his Wasn’t Faithful box, self-imposed and self-inflicted as it is, but Sandy does as well. Sandy’s as-of-currently [checks time] 4:51pm 7/15/21 emotional unfaithfulness (we don’t know how far it goes as the camera’s not on her, but it was unfaithfulness) paired with this third kiss is the coffin for Mike and Sandy that December was for Mike and Lucy (and in a previous post, I described Mike’s behavior toward Lucy in Eternal Flame as the “final nail,” and while we have yet to see Mike and Sandy’s this is a good way to frame the countless parallels between this chapter and December).

Neither of them are going to be able to forget about it. they’re attached to the point that I would describe their relationship as nearly codependent, and absolutely toxic... but it’s no longer a genuine relationship either of them are taking genuine pleasure in. they’ve each has encounters where they’ve experienced pretty explosive chemistry with other people, but they’ve been together since they were kids and for fear of hurting each other and in the unknown variables of new relationships, they’ve decided to stay together.

(please wear safety goggles in the fireworks lab, folks.)

but again, they won’t forget what happened here, and it’s going to have ramifications for how they move forward. the only thing they’ve done by getting back together is delayed the inevitable and gotten other people hurt in the crossfires.

and that’s what the crack in that panel means.