#transformers artifacts continuity

[kierastransformerssideblog]

Conjunxing! Featuring my main two OTPs

[kieraambers]

I'm in such a Transformers mood, who wants to read the script to the first episode of my transformers story?

[bloomeng]

This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)

(image updated: 9/21/24)

I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.

Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories it can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.

This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)

Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.

Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.

(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)

The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.

This is a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rogues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.

Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title stripped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”

In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.

Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)

Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.

So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.

To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.

But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.

Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.

Things I haven’t figured out:

- what each of the batfam’s weapons are

- what each of the magical artifacts are

- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as

Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifact wielders.”

- how the wonderfam fits into this

I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could to see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”

Fin… for now.

[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]

Current designs:

[solxamber]

1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”

You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”

“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”

“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”

“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”

You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.

“…How much are we charging?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”

“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”

“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”

Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”

By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.

You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.

The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.

“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.

With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”

“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”

You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”

You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”

“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”

“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.

When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.

“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”

Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”

You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”

“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.

“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.

He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.

Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”

“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.

Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”

Riddle’s death glare answered that question.

“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”

Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”

Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”

The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.

You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”

Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”

You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”

“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.

You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”

“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.

Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”

Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”

“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”

Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”

“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”

“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”

The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.

“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”

“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”

“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”

The orb started vibrating violently.

“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.

You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”

When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.

“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”

Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”

Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”

Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”

You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.

“This should work,” he said cheerfully.

The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.

“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”

Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”

The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.

“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”

Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”

Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”

“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”

“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”

“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”

“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”

Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. “And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”

You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”

A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”

“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”

“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”

“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”

“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”

“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.

Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”

“But of course!”

“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”

“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”

“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”

Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”

“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”

You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”

“Anything!”

“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”

“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”

“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”

The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.

“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”

Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.

"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."

You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"

"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."

Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"

Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."

Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"

You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.

Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.

Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.

"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.

"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.

It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.

Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.

It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.

"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"

Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.

You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.

"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."

But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."

"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.

Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."

"Shut up, Jamil."

It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.

As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.

"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"

"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"

"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.

Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.

The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.

“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”

“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”

Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”

“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”

Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”

“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.

Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”

“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”

You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”

“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.

Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”

“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”

The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.

You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.

Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”

“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”

Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.

Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.

“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.

“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”

Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”

When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”

You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”

Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.

Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.

But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”

Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”

He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.

Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.

“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.

“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.

“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”

“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.

“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.

The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.

You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.

You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.

Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.

Wait, what?

You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—

Oh, no.

“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”

You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”

Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”

Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.

“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”

Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”

“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”

“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”

He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”

Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.

After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”

You froze. “What are you saying?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”

You stared at Malleus in horror.

“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”

“Precisely.”

“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”

You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You groaned. “I’m going to die.”

And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.

“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.

Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”

The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.

For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.

Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”

Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”

He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”

Your breath hitched. “Really?”

“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.

He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.

“Run!”

You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.

And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:

I want this forever.

Masterlist

[coolshadowtwins]

Shen Yuan gets hit with a truth serum plot fic round up!

These are from the comments and reblogs of my previous post

Absolution by airplanelanding

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51587557#main

Summary: Luo Binghe stared back at him. There was something distant in his eyes, something Shen Qingqiu was too tired, too drained, to decipher. Then, Luo Binghe’s lips opened in a non-apology, a soft, murmured sentence—a quiet, “I need to know the truth.”

Shen Qingqiu frowned. He opened his mouth to question the damn-near imploring words, but he never got the chance.

He failed to notice something was in Luo Binghe’s hands until it was too late.

Or

Luo Binghe is determined to get answers this time, now that Shen Qingqiu can't run away. Even if he has to use a truth serum to do it.

aka A Water Prison Re-Write.

"open my lungs to let you in" by ghostybreads https://archiveofourown.org/works/37276570

Summary: Shen Qingqiu had a secret. So, naturally, it was only a matter of time before he was hit by a truth serum wife plot.

//

“How are you?”

“Horny. Kind of want Binghe to rail me, I guess. But it’s manageable.”

Liu Qingge’s hand on his forehead froze, and he was close enough that Shen Qingqiu could hear his breathing stop. He stared back expressionlessly, the mortification distantly crawling up the back of his neck. Honest One-Horned–

The frustrated scream that he usually vented in his head, came out straight from mouth.

“aaAAAAAHHHH GODDAMNIT AIRPLANE–”

no regret (i've been sorry all these years) by krmilia

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39006066

Summary: There is no actual way the System hated him so much, right? Right?

Recently a lot of shitty things happened to Shen Qingqiu. By that he meant sowers in Jinlan city, return of his wayward disciple – who, uhm, prepared him surprise by leaving the Abyss two years early – and now… Well, now he was poisoned with a truth serum.

(Or, Bingqiu finally talk.)

speak your mind (not that much!) by nyoomerr https://archiveofourown.org/works/38953875

Summary: Before the investigation in Jinlan City, Shen Qingqiu is hit by a curse that forces him to speak his mind. Unfortunately, this means that the first thing he does when he sees Luo Binghe for the first time in three years is to tell Luo Binghe that he's grown up to be really quite pretty.

Luo Binghe, not sure what's going on but absolutely enjoying the ride, abandons all his plans immediately. He has new priorities now, including but not limited to:

- get his Shizun to call him 'pretty' again

- steal his Shizun away from his (probably in existence) harem

- ???

funny how you just break down (waiting on some sign) https://archiveofourown.org/works/36742384/chapters/91657246

Summary: Luo Binghe’s hand is half-raised, and Shen Qingqiu is going to die and this is the hand that will—

“[Notice: In appreciation of your continued use of our services, System 2.0 is offering {Valued Customer} a complimentary Bonus Plotline! Do you accept?]”

aka, What if Luo Binghe could read Shen Qingqiu’s mind during the Jinlan City arc?

What is Seen by CavetteDracones

Summary: …is not [always] the real truth.

Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison?

BONAS:

Moshang

If It can be destroyed by Tossawary https://archiveofourown.org/works/53124079

I’ll probably add more as they are either found by me or suggested!

[good-advice-ganondorf]

Majora's Mask and what it means to be grown up

(aka my collected analysis of the Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask)

I will say that generally I don't think Termina is purgatory, or a dream, or anything like that. To me, Termina is kind of like a Silent Hill type parallel world, where you face your deepest traumas.

First, the parallels between Majora's Mask, and the child section of Ocarina of Time.

The first dungeon for both games is in a vast wooded area, there are woodland races inhabiting both areas, the Kokiri for Ocarina of Time, and the Deku for Majora's mask. The second dungeon is in a great mountain, inhabited by the Gorons. The third dungeon is in a vast body of water, inhabited by the Zora.

Then, things split. After Jabu Jabu, Link becomes an adult. After Great Bay, there's Ikana Canyon. A land of nothing but Death.

Who caused the death of Ikana? Who else but the king, Igo Du Ikana. Ikana was plunged into disrepair, after Igos started a war with a clan of Ninjas, to receive a powerful artifact, in a great and mysterious temple. Sound familiar? It should, this is exactly what Ganondorf did, after Link was sealed away for seven years. But Ganondorf was successful.

But Ikana isn't completely occupied by the dead, no. Pamela remains, with her father, turned into an undead monster. Much like Sheik, the last Sheikah, who is revealed to be Zelda. And her father? He's never seen, but I'd imagine it would be easy enough for Ganondorf to become king, if the other one was no longer around. From a man, to a corpse.

So, if Ganondorf is a parallel to Igos, and Zelda is a parallel to Pamela, what about Link? He's a little different. I believe that, along with Kafei and Tingle, all three of the transformation masks are a representation of Link, and his feelings towards being forced to grow up.

Tingle is, as we know, a 35 year old man who thinks he's a fairy boy. Similar to how link was a 10 year old boy, who thought he was a fairy boy. I believe Tingle is a reflection of what Link could have been if he never left Kokiri Forest. An adult hylian man, thinking he's a Kokiri.

On the contrary, Kafei is distraught at the idea of becoming a child again. He's weaker, he can't marry his fiancee, and everyone treats him like well, a child, despite his maturity. I believe this is how Link feels after becoming a child again. He used to be a strong adult, and even if he's not as mature as Kafei, he still went through a lot, and knows a lot more about life now. Kafei even reuses Link's model and animations.

There's a reoccurring theme in Ocarina of Time where Link just doesn't belong anywhere he goes. He's an outsider to the other races, because he's a hylian, but he's also an outsider to the hylians, because he was raised as a Kokiri. I think the transformation masks reflect that.

The Deku Butler's Son is what he could have been as a Kokiri. He could have been a happy little boy, living with his father, and his community. But Link and the Deku butler's son both left home to explore, and as far as both the Kokiri and the Deku are concerned, neither came back.

Darmani is what he could have been as a Goron. A powerful hero to the Gorons, celebrated by them for clearing Dodongo's Cavern. A close link between the goron elder, Darunia, and their sons. Both him and Link remain after death, lamenting on their histories as heros.

Mikau is what he could have been as a Zora. Maybe not a cool as hell guitarist, but a husband to Ruto, and Prince of the Zora Who would stop at nothing to keep her happy and safe, like infiltrating a fortress, or climbing inside of a whale.

Even the Fierce Deity is just Link, but back as an adult. As if so much changed so rapidly, he felt like he transformed into something less like himself, and more like a powerful god. He could have continued being strong, and powerful, the defeater of Ganon, but he had to become a child again. He has to stay as a small, and unknown child.

The ages of the masks even match the human life cycle. According to the debug menu (and if you subscribe to the theory that Link and DBS's ages were swapped), DBS is 5, Link is 12, Darmani is 30, Mikau is 78, and, Fierce Deity is 17, likely due to his model being recycled from adult Link's. Link starts the game in the body of a 5 year old, then a 12 year old, then a 30 year old, then a 72 year old, and finally, a God.

We don't exactly know how Link feels. But I can't imagine it would be easy to go from a child, with no concept of death, to be thrust into a position where he's forced to fight and kill an adult man so much stronger than he is. And then everything was just reversed. Like that. As if it never happened. And only Link remembers the impending doom he faced. All he can do is remember Ganondorf's reign. Almost like he's reliving the same few days, again, and again, and again.

[tossawary]

While I do think that Wangxian would still be obsessed with each other in a Human/Cybertronian pairing, whichever one of them is the robot, I keep leaning towards Wen Ning being the robot in a "Transformers" AU for MDZS. I think it really fits the "I rebuilt you into an abomination" angle for the Ningxian situationship.

Also, I keep making myself laugh by thinking about bitchy-faced Lan Wangji sitting awkwardly in Wen Ning's passenger seat, because Wen Ning passive-aggressively won't let LWJ sit in the driver's seat even if Wei Wuxian isn't in the car. 

Which led me to thinking about the worldbuilding and plotting of a MDZS TF AU in which only the Wens are Cybertronians. (For the Sunshot-Era characters, at least.) Young WWX and LWJ are roughly the equivalent of human characters like G1's Spike, Carly, and/or Chip. (Though it would also be fun to do a different AU where WWX and/or LWJ are transforming giant robots, of course.)

In my mind, this story would take place in a modern-ish sci-fi setting. Start close to a Bayverse-like setting (live-action TF movies), but quickly morph into a "Pacific Rim"-style mecha setting (humans building mechs to fight monsters, not necessarily with a "Drift" co-piloting setup) as the equivalent of the Sunshot Campaign war starts and continues, before ultimately the setting becomes more of a retro-futuristic space opera like the original 1986 TF movie and the third season of G1 (the original TF cartoon). 

So, Wei Wuxian is a teenage genius at some prestigious robotics university/college, which does important research on a handful of alien artifacts. Lan Wangji also goes to this school and teenage Wangxian have the usual interpersonal conflict between them. 

Alien robots have been visiting Earth with increasing frequency over the past few decades, usually flying in and out without doing much, sometimes causing some destruction, so they're somewhat known, but a lot of people still think it's an elaborate hoax of some kind. The recovered pieces of these alien robots have provided a technological boost to humanity, which has caused some serious problems all over the world, but mundane life goes on for many people even if mech programs are apparently a real thing now. 

(Wei Wuxian's parents (who were humans) had dealings with Cybertronians. He does not initially know this.) 

The Cloud Recesses school possesses some very important alien artifact that serves as our story's MacGuffin. I'm thinking that it's either the Allspark or the Matrix of Leadership. Whatever it is, it's been dormant and useless for a very long time... basically a rock... until Wei Wuxian manages to build technology that actually manages to interface with the MacGuffin. No one else has ever managed this before. He can make it do stuff. 

Unfortunately, in achieving this, he accidentally sends out the equivalent of a signal to all Cybertronians pretty much everywhere saying: "YO! Earth has got your stuff! The MacGuffin you've been searching for for a million years is over here! Come and get it!" 

So, the school gets attacked by a group of Cybertronians, probably led by Cybertronian Wen Chao. The school possesses enough technology for some of the more daring and reckless students (Wei Wuxian) to fight back a little, using a combination of smarts and highly volatile projects, until some mech pilots arrive to chase them off. Wei Wuxian manages to knock one of the transformers down, but he doesn't take the killing shot, because the transformer looks scared, and Wei Wuxian also saw this transformer trying to step carefully around the humans. The transformer retreats with the other Cybertronians. 

Insert some plot and character stuff here. Then, in the next action-y sequence when Wei Wuxian gets attacked by Cybertronians again, he's saved when a car pulls up in front of him (it looks like either LWJ or Jiang Cheng's fancy car) and flings open a door for him to jump inside. It's only as they're driving away that Wei Wuxian realizes that no one else is in the car. 

Wei Wuxian: "...You're a Cybertronian, right? Was this a bad idea? Did I fuck up?" 

Cybertronian Wen Ning (the transformer whom Wei Wuxian didn't kill earlier): "Yeah, kind of. I'm surprised that you just went along with that? I'm kidnapping you. Sorry." 

In this universe, the Wens are essentially the Decepticons, but if the Decepticons had basically already won the war. There are some remaining Autobots out there, Wen Ning actually has a few Autobot ties, but the Autobots are largely scattered. Wen Ning and Wen Qing are both Decepticons here to get the MacGuffin (Allspark or Matrix), so that Decepticon victory will be complete, and Earth will probably be destroyed or conquered in the process. 

Well, they were here to do that. Wen Ning isn't really feeling that plan so much. He feels bad for the humans. And he thinks Wei Wuxian is really cool! He's never seen anyone that small and squishy humiliate Wen Chao that badly! Wow. 

Wen Ning doesn't like Lan Wangji so much, however, which is mutual. Currently, I'm thinking about this with polyamory vibes. Wei Wuxian would love to have car sex with Lan Wangji in Wen Ning's back seat, but he's not looking directly at that thought because he's pretty sure that LWJ hates him, and he refuses to reflect at all on why he wants this fantasy to be happening inside Wen Ning specifically. WWX is too busy dealing with a robot war to face being gay, much less being gay(?) for a giant robot as well, he doesn't have the time to learn what polyamory is yet! 

Insert series of events here that ultimately lead to a Humans versus Decepticons war, where the humans have mechs and a growing force of New Autobot allies, but the struggle against these lethal transforming robot soldiers is still grueling. 

The great sects in this AU are all giant tech and/or weapons companies of various types. Which is, you know, morally not great, probably, but this is what these kids have grown up with. They're feeling additional pressure to "do their duty" to protect Earth. The Nie family are heavily involved in some mech program that's been running for a few generations now and has some disastrous health effects, but is not going to stop Nie Mingjue from piloting Baxia until it kills him. Jiang Yanli is already married to Jin Zixuan, son of the CEO of the Jin Corporation, which will play its usual role of "shadowy, greedy company" this time with cyberpunk-esque aesthetics. 

I'm not sure what the Jiangs do, but I'm learning towards something to do with space. Jiang Cheng could be in business school, or doing some form of military service, or participating in some astronaut program (still not good enough for his mother), in preparation to take over the family company someday. His life plan gets completely wrecked by giant robots. Specifically, when the giant robots destroy most of the company's buildings and factories, early on in the war, and then his parents also get killed. The insurance alone is a fucking nightmare to deal with. 

In this AU, the only person whom young man Jiang Cheng has ever experienced any kind of attraction towards is a 20ft+ robot "woman" (Wen Qing) who is allegedly a doctor and can turn her arms into buzzsaws (see Knockout from TFP). No, he doesn't want to talk about these feelings. You could physically force JC's ass into therapy and he'd still never talk. 

Anyway, everyone is having a really bad time in this war! Wei Wuxian grows out of his teenage years desperately pulling useful information out of the MacGuffin (Allspark or Matrix) and developing new technology to fight back. Work sucks. War sucks. The state of his family is a tragedy. His relationship status with now coworker Lan Wangji is a solid: "???" Every day, New Autobots like Wen Ning seem to get a little broken and Wei Wuxian can't fix it all. 

Eventually, Wei Wuxian develops something really dangerous that helps to kill off the leader of the Decepticons and win the war. I was thinking some kind of spacebridge technology, perhaps? Because I was thinking that a spacebridge accident should be what "kills" Wei Wuxian for 10+ years, before popping him back into his usual reality, back into a world that has seemingly moved on without him. 

After the Decepticons are first defeated, the situation is tense. Wei Wuxian is sitting on a goldmine of dangerous and powerful technology, capable of developing more. He somehow managed to bring Wen Ning back from the dead this one time and even the Cybertronians seemed weirded out by that. After the war, a lot of people aren't kindly inclined towards the New Autobots, and some people want to take them apart to see what makes them tick. 

Including Wen Yuan, a brand new Decepticon who was created during the war and then rescued by the New Autobots at the very end of it, taken under their wings before he could be forced to do anything to hurt anyone. Wei Wuxian is not this kid's dad. Wen Yuan isn't really a "kid". But he's still relatively small (only like 10ft-tall) because they don't have the parts to get him good upgrades yet and so inexperienced. I need you to picture a six-month-old robot very, VERY carefully picking up a human Wei Wuxian who is about half his size, who drank himself to sleep in the lab again, so that Wen Yuan can put him to bed. It is sad. 

The character who is probably the closest equivalent to an Optimus Prime figure here is Granny Wen. Optimus Prime if Optimus Prime sounded like someone's grandma. I think it would be fun to make her the leader of the New Autobots. Not sure yet whether or not she has or at one point had the Matrix. If she ever did, maybe it was ripped out of her chest at some point. 

I'm disinclined to kill off all the Wen remnants again in an AU, so I'm leaning towards Wei Wuxian helping them escape Earth through a spacebridge in the face of some "unofficial" mercenary attack. Wen Ning gets "killed" again (captured by the Jin Corporation, who are not identified at the time). Pretty much everyone else manages to get away. Except for Wei Wuxian, who gets caught in a spacebridge accident, and banished to the Shadowzone, assumed dead. 

Many years later, young scientist Mo Xuanyu uses Wei Wuxian's spacebridge research to bring him back from the Shadowzone. Wei Wuxian does not have a good sense of how much time has passed. He was wearing an exosuit, which kept him from dying outright, but being in stasis in between realities takes more than a minute for recovery. Damn. That was weird.

The situation more than a decade later is actually apparently less dire than he might have feared. The New Autobots managed to negotiate a treaty and a safe return to Earth, and have built a new base here, working cooperatively with allies such as Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng, who have put much of Wei Wuxian's work to good, productive use helping Earth rebuild. How do Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng work with the New Autobots when they can't stand speaking to each other and hate agreeing with each other ever? Well, that's what personal assistants are for. 

Lan Wangji apparently only got hotter as he got older and Wei Wuxian is having a hard time dealing with that! It seems unfair! (Wei Wuxian is going to cry when they find and rescue Wen Ning again. And someone will finally force him to talk about his desire to make out with Lan Wangji across the hood of his car who is also his friend who is also a giant robot.) 

I don't know what has happened to Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan here. They could be alive? Maybe not? In the AU, however, Jin Ling is the equivalent to Daniel Witwicky, who is son of Spike and Carly. Jin Ling in this AU is a cute human tweenager / teenager with the roundest, rosiest cheeks you've ever seen. 

And all the other "Juniors" are giant robots. 

Lan Wangji took Wen Yuan under his wing. Lan Sizhui has gotten his first few rounds of upgrades, so he's at least twice his previous size, in good repair now, and pretty much unrecognizable. I need you to imagine giant robot Lan Sizhui very carefully picking up "Dr. Lan" to demonstrate to the other junior New Autobots how such a thing is done with humans. Lan Sizhui is very roughly equivalent to the TF character of Springer at this point. 

Ouyang Zizhen is roughly equivalent to Arcee. Lan Jingyi is roughly equivalent to Hot Rod. They were brought to Earth because Cybertron is still partially under Decepticon control and the Earth base is safer for young Cybertronians. They are also roughly the same age as Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling.

As far as little human Jin Ling is concerned, he has just as much right to "leadership" of this friendship group as any of the others! They're alll the same age!!! 

And yes, one could also move Lan Sizhui into the "Hot Rod" position here, but Lan Sizhui has vibes that are closer to Ultra Magnus than Hot Rod in my opinion, and I like Hot Rod. And it is just funny to think about Lan Jingyi becoming a Rodimus Prime equivalent and having to deal with being the new bearer of the Matrix of Leadership. No one considered him a potential candidate, least of all himself. He did Not Ask. He does Not Want. 

There's a potential plot here regarding the Jin Corporation and Mech Pilot Nie Mingjue's murder and potentially some Unicron equivalent threat to the planet, but it's too heavily dependent on whatever has happened previously in this plot to create solid thoughts. And it's late! I would much rather amuse myself thinking about Lan Jingyi as Rodimus Prime. He would like to Get Off This Ride.

[whencyclopedia]

Twelve Menacing & Protective Mythological Figures

The term mythology comes from the Greek words mythos (“story of the people”) and logos (“word”) and so is defined as the spoken (later written) story of a culture. Modern scholars have divided myths into different types which serve many different cultural purposes.

Myths serve to explain the origin of the world, how various aspects of that world operate and why, the meaning of suffering and death and, always, serve to reinforce cultural values. Central to these stories are the supernatural characters – gods, heroes, demons, spirits – whose purpose is to convey the message.

These figures, whatever other purposes they served, were expressions of the fears and hopes of the people. The gods, in every ancient civilization, were considered benevolent in general, but there were always some deities who chose to make life difficult for humanity.

In the same way that one will tend to be more careful to humor and placate an intimidating teacher, professor, or supervisor more than one who is gracious and easy-going, the ancients were careful to make provision for menacing forces before thanking those who only meant them well. Amulets and charms, votive figures, incantations and prayers, gestures and daily devotions were used to protect one's self from supernatural threats and, in some cases, these practices found expression in a specific supernatural being.

Twelve Mythological Figures

The following list comes from cultures around the world, and the figures are chosen as representative of types. There are thousands of such figures from world mythology, and all have their own individual characteristics and particular functions in the culture that gave birth to them.

The twelve entities under consideration are:

Pazuzu – Mesopotamia

Bes – Egypt

Lamia – Greece

The Lemures – Rome

Nian – China

Huma Bird – Persia

Bhramari – India

Ixtab – Mesoamerica

The Morrigan – Ireland

The Manananggal – Philippines

The Kelpie - Scotland

Akabeko – Japan

Some of these are deities but the majority are supernatural entities endowed with powers lesser than the gods but far greater than human abilities. The underlying form of all the creatures signifies change, transformation, which is as inevitable as the human resistance to it. Humans derive comfort from the known and familiar and tend to shrink from, or actively resist, perceived threats to their established norm.

At the same time, there are obvious challenges in life which common sense dictates one should try to avoid such as death, disease, and loss, and these figures represented those threats and the hope of avoiding them. Among the greatest fears of the ancients, judging from the number of artifacts and incantations concerning it, was infant mortality because it threatened not only population growth but social stability.

Continue reading...

[mintesprig]

I always imagine MC to age in either one of two ways due to what they’ve become in the Devildom.

1. The amount of power they have and powers that have acted upon them (like time traveling, curses, blessings etc) deteriorates their body and they end up dying young.

2. Same reasons but it ends up preserving them as something more/other than human, like a memory trapped in amber.

Personally I do think it would be the second one. It’s not Solomon’s brand of immortality either though, it’s almost more like a living ghost. Or the way that artifacts feel, not so continuous but paused. This is of course if they stay ´human’ and aren’t transformed into something else.

[elysiaheaven]

Hey babe!!! So for hsr maybe possibly Kafka x female vampire reader? :>:)

Kafka x Vampire Reader!

You could feel the pulse of hunger within you, a throbbing reminder of your vampire nature. The mission from Elio was clear: locate the target and retrieve the artifact. But with Kafka beside you, focus was a fleeting memory.

“Come on, darling,” she purred, her voice smooth like silk. She leaned casually against the wall, her coat draped over one shoulder. “You look positively ravenous. Isn’t it hard to concentrate when all you can think about is the sweet taste of blood?”

You grit your teeth, frustration boiling beneath your calm exterior. “Kafka, stop playing around. We need to stay on task.” But your resolve was weakened by the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, tempting you further.

She chuckled softly, unfazed by your warning. With a practiced elegance, she shrugged off her coat, revealing her flawless skin beneath. The night air seemed to shimmer around her, and you swallowed hard as she unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her neck—inviting, vulnerable.

“Why don’t you just indulge a little?” she whispered, her voice dropping to a sultry tone that sent shivers down your spine. “You know you want to.”

Your instincts screamed at you, the hunger roaring to life as you took a tentative step closer. “Kafka, we’re on a mission…” But the words faltered as you found yourself mesmerized by the curve of her neck, the pulse of her heartbeat echoing in your ears.

She stepped back, playfully pushing you against the wall, a smirk playing on her lips. “Just think of it as a… distraction. A way to sharpen your focus. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

In that moment, the world around you faded away. With a swift movement, you pressed her against the wall, your lips hovering just above her skin. “I’ll show you a whole new world,” you murmured, the hunger overtaking you, transforming into something primal and passionate.

With a sharp inhale, you sank your fangs into her neck, and ecstasy flooded your senses. Her blood was a heady rush, intoxicating and warm, a sweet reward for your restraint. You felt her body tense, then relax as the initial shock morphed into pleasure, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“Oh, you’re so good at this,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in your hair. “Maybe Elio should send you on more missions with me.”

Kafka’s fingers tangled in your hair as you drank deeper, a mix of pleasure and pain etched across her face. She gritted her teeth, a low moan escaping her throat, urging you to continue. “God, yes… Just like that…”

You could feel the way her body reacted to your bite, how her breath hitched in delight as you pulled back, savoring the moment. The world around you faded into nothingness; there was only the two of you, lost in this primal dance of hunger and desire.

You licked your lips, reveling in the remnants of her essence. “You taste incredible,” you murmured, your voice a husky whisper. “You’re a distraction, but I’ll gladly take that risk.”

With a wicked grin, Kafka pulled you closer, brushing her lips against your ear. “Good. Because I’m not done playing yet.”

The mission could wait; you had found your new obsession.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #57 – Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson

Introduction

Kim Stanley Robinson is one of those names I’ve been meaning to around to since approximately forever ago, one of the real Canonical science fiction writers I’ve always felt slightly ashamed I’ve never read (see also: Gene Wolfe). Ministry for the Future in particular is a book I remember getting an immense amount of buzz and downright hagiographic reviews when it came out, even well beyond the usual science fiction circuit. So I went into this with vague impressions and high expectations – which, as it always does, turned out to be a rather dire mistake.

I do not regret having read this book, but that’s on its merits as a cultural artifact rather than a work of literature. Which is to say, I think this is interesting more than it’s good. It’s more or less equal parts a (rather experimental) novel, a work of futurism, and a political manifesto – and despite being incredibly sympathetic to the latter project, I’m not sure it really succeeds at any of them. Which might just be because I’m reading it now instead of when it came out – it is incredibly of its time, in a way that’s genuinely impressively dated even just a few years latter, and which continuously took me out of it.

It was, at least, very formally interesting. The tiny chapters and constant bouncing between different areas of interest kept it from ever becoming too much of a grind, too.

Synopsis

The book is, roughly, a history of the struggle against climate change and to restore the biosphere to equilibrium, beginning with the signing of the Paris Agreement in 2015 and continuing over the next half-century so until the world has been nigh-unrecognizably transformed and victory in that struggle seems more or less assured.

It is, nominally, focused on its only explicit divergence from our own world before the book was written (so, somewhere in 2017-2019) – the titular Ministry, a subsidiary body created by the Paris Accords to pursue and safeguard the interests of future generations – at first this is basically conceived of as a meaningless goodwill gesture by most of the really powerful people agreeing to it. But after a monstrously deadly heat wave across South Asia kills tens of millions of people in a matter of days, more and more people around the world start to wake up to the necessity of drastic action.

Over the next generation the Ministry plays a major (though less so than you might imagine) role in the transition of the world to a sustainable and just future, and the book follows both their efforts and the changing conditions around them that make any of it possible.

The story is told through a dizzying variety of perspectives – there a couple of what you might call protagonists (the minister for the future herself, a Scottish aid worker caught in the heat wave who barely survives and spends the rest of his life failing to cope with PTSD), but they occupy what has to be much less than half of the book. The rest is short persuasive essays, meeting minutes, anonymous vignettes from everyone from an Antarctic research scientist-turned-geoengineer to a de facto enslaved miner in Namibia, and odd little prose poems from the perspective of ‘the market’ or ‘photons’ or similar. It’s all mixed together quite thoroughly – few chapters are more than six or seven pages, many much less, and each new chapter marks a perspective jump. It’s a fascinating reading experience, if nothing else.

Taken As A Novel

...The Ministry for the Future is just not a very good one.

Partial blame goes to I think the very admirable instinct to avoid making some select group of technocrats and activists the Protagonists of History and instead try to maintain something like a global perspective. But the unfortunate reality of it is that the world is very big, and even at 500 pages the book is comparatively quite small. The result is that this is a story where the overwhelming majority of the plot is told in the passive voice, exposition relaying how trends never before mentioned and institutions not yet introduced are conveniently doing this or that to help fix the world, and then rarely if ever mentioned again. One wonders why the titalur Minister was chosen as a protagonist at all, given how the vast majority of her narrative could just as easily been filled by another other ‘life-on-the-ground’ level perspective (her great contribution is convincing the assembled centrall bankers of the world to do something about two thirds of the way into the book).

Also – while the instinct to avoid making ones main characters the perfectly agentic and hypercompetent engine of history is certainly admirable, it’s rather undercut by then still having one of those, but just giving us no real insight or perspective into it.

The mystique of the shadowy, untouchable terrorist syndicate has a powerful hold in the minds of action and science-fiction authors, and Robinson is apparently no exception. The energy transition in the book is greatly sped up by a near-omnipotent ecoterrorist movement that, through everything from sabotage and assassination to drone strikes and missile barrages, (literally) decapitates the entire fossil fuel industry and destroys so many planes and cargo ships so as to cripple the global airline and shipping industries. I’ll leave aside plausibility (for now) – but it just seems so self-evidently obvious that these are the main characters of the story. But with the exception of a single anonymous vignette, the story refuses to ever give the people involved names, faces, or personalities, nor dive into the whys and hows of specific operations. It’s quite frustrating, all the moreso because it feels like the author just saving himself the work of figuring any of that out.

Our two ostensible main characters themselves also just feel like – not a wasted opportunity, but definitely one more could have been made of? The world changes dramatically, almost unrecognizably, through the course of the novel, but their lives really don’t. Here and there sure, there’s not nothing, but the overwhelming majority of their pagecount is spent living what could very easily have been somewhat atypical lives in contemporary Switzerland. Despite all the talk of a ‘super-depression’ and the crippling of global trade, no shortages ever particularly affect them, no natural disasters touch ther homes. A lot of Mary’s chapters really just kind of read like tourism ads for the country Robinson clearly fell in love with at some point.

Taken as Futurism

Which is to say, taken as an exploration of how the world might actually develop, and a plausible prediction of the future based on current trends. Which, given the sheer amount modern frontier technologies, economic and political theories, and just general social trends are all discussed (not to mention a great deal of the breathless marketing and reception it received) the book is clearly trying to be. And which – woof, it does not work out.

The book is full of generational political upheavals occurring mostly because it’s a dramatically convenient time for them to. Most glaringly, the cataclysmic heat wave that sets off the book’s plot also conveniently utterly discredits the BJP and leads the landslide election of an entirely fictitious political movement across all of India, who then spend the next decades dramatically transforming the nation’s politics and economy with unbroken success and to a reception of thunderous applause. There’s no characters with names or faces actually involved in this, no more than a couple paragraphs of encyclopedia-like exposition devoted to it, but it’s the example and engine the whole rest of the book hangs on. The transition of the African Union to a powerful and legitimate supernational entity and the granting of permanent autonomy to Hong Kong (and much of southern mainland China why not) are even less dwelt on.

Now, this all could be excused as just the inevitable causalities of trying to write a book with a global scope – and I am sympathetic to that. But to begin with, I know just barely enough about the politics and the economics of a lot of several of the places touched on or used as dramatic examples to see how surface level and implausible the predicted changes are, and I can’t help but think it’s probably a similar story with all the other lightly touched on placed I don’t know much about (I remain agnostic on the accuracy of the geoengineering and carbon-clearing technologies projected, except that a lot of them suspiciously amenable to a single coherent aesthetic of the future).

More damning, to me at least, is the matter of agency – only the ‘good’ people seem to possess any of it. The conservative opposition exists as this vague, undifferentiated mass – standing athwart history and slowing things down in vague ways, but never really vital or active, never a danger to the political movements that have won or the progress that has been made. There are references to xenophobia and anti-refugee sentiment, but despite a refugee crisis that makes that of the 2010s look like a rounding error, it never leads to any really dangerous political backlash. Given how the world’s actually trending, the book’s vision of politics goes beyond optimism and into outright delusion.

This is especially true for how the book conceives of violence. Political violence is, in the book’s telling, near-universally the province of the ecological Left (with the exception of two events that provide excuses for dramatic set-pieces but fail to actually achieve anything at all). As mentioned above, seemingly omnipotent and untouchable eco-terrorists assassinate dozens of hundreds of the global elite for their crimes against the planet, destroy so many jet liners and cargo ships to force the adoption of new transportation methods, and sabotage so many coal- and oil-powered plants they help force the abandonment of the as fuels. They do this with no real blowback or reverses, no ruthless campaigns of state violence breaking apart the networks or destroying the infrastructure, no loss of public support from the disruptions in food and fuel their attacks would cause – it is not a realistic vision of what ecoterrorism might look like in the coming decades, it’s a plot device in the form of Robert Ludlum villains with no action movie secret agents around to stop them.

As a Political Manifesto

Which is, after all, clearly the real motivation behind the book, and the reason it received as many accolades as it did. It’s also where the book is easily at its most interesting – if, tragically, rather incoherent. Which might be me holding it to a higher standard than is fair but look, there’s only so many essays extolling the failure of the market or the coming obsolescence of war or whatever you can put in your book before I start holding it to the standard of actual rigour.

Mostly it feels like the book is undercut by its commitment to relentless optimism and need to jump around – a great deal of the book is spent giving the most positive possible gloss on particular phenomena or institutions from across the world in a paragraph or two, then say it needs to be scaled up on a national or global scale with no further thought or consideration of costs. Even when it’s not wrong it just feels unserious.

The subject the book spends the plurality of its time on – the main thrust of its program, if anything is – is economics and monetary policy. The great project of the Ministry is convincing the assembled central bankers of the world to create a new currency – a ‘carbon coin’ minted as a reward for sequestering or preventing the removal of a single ton of carbon for at least a century, with a guaranteed minimum value and appreciation over the same period – which would in time replace the us dollar as a global reserve currency and medium of exchange. The arguments around which are frustrating, because they go from plausible and compelling to wildly optimistic to the social science equivalent of star trek technobabble and back again without warning or any detectable pattern. It’s an interesting idea, at least, though one you get the sense is being imperfectly relayed – and the arguments for why the uncrowned monarchs of the global financial system would actually agree to it just aren’t convincing in the least.

Given the amount of times the book uses standard progressive language about how vital empowering minorities, women, the traditionally excluded and so on is to the fight to save the planet, it’s honestly kind of amusing the degree to which the big dramatic set pieces involve appealing to the conscience and principles of the most embedded representatives of The System imaginable. Running through the book are both a disdain and dismissal of economics as a field and a strongly felt technocratic sensibility and desire to have seasoned experts at the helm managing their areas of expertise – it can never quite decide whether bringing the world’s central banks under increased political control is something to be fought for, or a threat to hold over the bankers heads to get them in line and focused on the important task of creating a de facto world state (the quasi-utopia envisioned at the end of the book could just as easily be the globalist dystopia from any conspiracy theorist’s screen with no changes but the valence of the adjectives used to describe it).

It’s more peripheral, but Robinson’s clear affection for the nation of Switzerland and continuous praise of its many virtues in both politics and society does clash a bit with, well, reality. It’s weird to go from a chapter about needing to abolish tax havens to talking about how enlightened self-interest has left the Swiss government entirely behind the mission of fighting climate change.

A Product of it’s Time

Is a weird thing to call a book written barely more than five years ago, I’m aware. But it’s honestly kind of shocking just how aged and dated the book feels, reading it in 2024. Despite just everything I’ve written above, I’m trying not to judge it as harshly as I might, because I feel like I’d have been much more generous if various things didn’t keep taking me out of it.

Some of them are things that can’t really be held against it – the passages about Russia and it’s relationship with Europe reads as almost comical now, to be sure, but so does every sci fi book in the ‘80s talking about the USSR – but that doesn’t mean they don’t hurt the feeling of reading the history of the future. The book was published in October 2020, so the complete non-mention of not even COVID specifically but just any pandemic or major disease outbreaks feel positively unreal.

Other things are less the book already being falsified by history and more just seeing what turned out to be pretty transient intellectual fashions immortalized in print. Seeing a serious, celebrated book talk about the revolutionary potential of the blockchain to create a democratic new economy is enough to turn a hair grey. And on a less extreme level, talking up Modern Monetary Theory as this revolutionary hack of solve economics just feels so very incredibly pre-pandemic.

Too Long; Didn’t Read

Not angry I read it, but more because writing this review was fun and engaging than for its merits as a work of art. Can’t judge it too harshly, given that the task it set for itself is basically impossible – but Robinson’s written enough books that he probably should have known that before he started it.

The set piece at the beginning of someone living through the dead heat wave was incredibly compelling drama, at least.

[kierastransformerssideblog]

More worldbuilding! I nearly uploaded this with the first paragraph completely missing!

[halfagone]

Danny, You Need To Calm Down

Me: "I need to nerf Danny a bit for this fic. I should have him only reveal and use his intangibility."

Danny: *is still BAMF and kicks ass*

Me: "Hmm... I did not think this through."

---

I am serious, though. If you're creative enough and have watched enough superhero media then you'll be able to find all sorts of unusual applications to some of Danny's powers.

With intangibility alone, all Danny needs to do is stand there and let his opponent tire themselves out trying to just land a blow and then fight back. If he has some more melee or martial arts training, he could use a nerve strike and bam, one-shot knock-out. And that's not even counting super strength or flight or telekinesis or why is this boy so overpowered?! /rhetorical

And if you know me, you know how much I love writing a good OP BAMF Danny. But it can be pretty restricting too. With an abundance of powers and a proven track record to gain more powers when necessary, it's not exactly easy to keep Danny down. There are a few known weaknesses we can use to our advantage here, but they come with their own issues:

Major Weaknesses

Blood Blossoms

We've seen blood blossoms are pretty effective on ghosts from the "Infinite Realms" episode in Season 3, but only on Danny's ghost half. I always thought it was a bit strange, since Danny has used ghost powers in his human form so technically it should still affect him? But that's just a personal headcanon so feel free to ignore that.

But! Since Danny could just transform (if he can get past the total agony it causes him) then he'll be fine again. Blood blossoms are also edible, as proven by Tucker, which makes me wonder if Danny could eat them in his human form and make it out unscathed? Since it's only his ghost half that's susceptible to them.

However, it's commonly headcanon'd that blood blossoms are extinct as we only see them in this episode back in the 1600s from the Salem Witch Trials. But canon also tends to bring up some really interesting concepts and then just... never mention them again, so it's possible they're still out there and the Fentons just never learned of them.

Ecto-ranium

We don't see this one come up too many times in fanfiction, if only because many of us have totally blocked out the episode it aired in, "Phantom Planet", from our minds entirely. Ecto-ranium is essentially the equivalent of kryptonite, but for ghosts. (Unsurprising, seeing as Phantom Planet likely took inspiration from Christopher Reeve's Superman II.)

This does come with some plotholes of its own, seeing as intangibility had allowed the ecto-ranium to pass through the Earth despite ecto-ranium supposedly making it impossible for ghosts to use their powers? I'm still trying to wrap my head around that one, I won't lie...

So obviously this weakness also has some shaky ground to stand on.

Mind Control

We see in "Control Freaks" that Danny is pretty susceptible to mind control as well, so long as it comes from the right source. We learn that Vlad continues to collect ghostly artifacts, so it's entirely possible he could find another magical device of equal power and use. Freakshow himself comes from a family with a wide range and collection of ghostly artifacts.

It's also possible that ghosts like Undergrowth could be able to control Danny as well, as he was able to puppet Sam through his vines and plants.

Danny is still capable of breaking through the mind control, if given enough reason to. There is also proof, though, that he can do a lot of damage to himself and others before that time comes. Just food for mischievous author thought.

Plasmius Maximus

This device only appears in the episode "Maternal Instincts" but Vlad had created it to shorten out Danny's powers for three hours. This is another instance of an interesting concept that disappeared after one episode, but considering how Danny used it against Vlad, maybe the man just didn't want to risk it a second time.

Nonetheless, this does prove Danny's powers can be temporarily locked away. How this is possible isn't exactly clear, but I've taken to using a yarn knot analogy to explain it. I won't bore you with that explanation (unless you're actually interested) since it leans more into fanon and headcanons than canon.

Lesser Weaknesses

Blackmail

Now this isn't really a surprise to anyone since Danny is a good kid and most superheroes have this weakness, but Danny is very much susceptible to threats made against his family and loved ones. We see that Freakshow uses this against Danny in "Reality Trip" to make him do his dirty work, as in: collect all the pieces for the Reality Gauntlet.

We might make jokes that Danny could easily defeat anyone he comes across, but the truth of the matter is that he takes these threats seriously and he's lucky more people haven't used it against him.

Inexperience

This one is more understandable and maybe not even technically a weakness but this boy is so silly stupid sometimes it's honestly really endearing. He doesn't have the best grasp of his powers so he can make all sorts of unfortunate mistakes. Danny is the type of person who learns as he goes, and thanks to the fact his one eligible teacher also so happens to be the same guy trying to murder his father... his options are a little limited.

However, this can be easily fixed given enough time and practice. Danny might not have any formal training but he's also proven to be a very fast learner which could very well make up for whatever else he lacks. Due to the unique nature of himself and his powers, there's also a chance that even with a mentor he would still largely be self-taught.

---

It can still be pretty hard to write though. When you want to have high stakes, then you need to have a credible threat. And for a kid that has a gazillion powers, all with countless applications, it gets a lot more complicated. Honestly sometimes Danny might not have even needed the new power if he just applied one he already had in a different way? But so is the life of a teenage, overpowered superhero.

[bloomeng]

I’m so curious about what their respective artifacts look like in the magical girl au! Is Jason’s his earrings? Is Dick’s the crown?

I have also been wondering this myself and I’ve come to a tentative answer (however this is subjected to change if I come up with better ideas)

The artifacts transform with their users but in their dormant state:

Bruce’s is a brooch which he allegedly wears in honor of his mother which is a half truth (I’m toying with the idea of having him modify the brooch into cufflinks)

Robin (all of them) were given a small robin shaped pendant and each of them were allowed to choose how they wore it (Dick - a collar pin chain/ Jason - a pendant necklace/ Tim - a cufflink/ Steph - attached to a headband/ Damian - a collar pin)

Jason’s— as many have correctly assumed— are his earrings

Tim’s is also a pendant—cause he’s still hanging onto that robin title— that he wears as a necklace usually under his clothing

Steph’s is a barrette that she sometimes clips to a band to wear as a headband or clips to a hairband to wear as a bracelet (Bruce has been telling her for years that she was going to loose it this way but when it’s obvious she’s not gonna stop he made her accessories that she could attach it to securely)

As Oracle Barbara’s artifacts are her rings as Batgirl her artifact was a belt buckle

Duke’s is an ear cuff because I want it to match his little wing headpieces

Dick’s artifact I’m undecided on—I just can’t see him wearing a lot of jewelry— I want each of the artifacts to be wearable items that are believable enough to be worn in every day life and be in the rough placement of the artifact in costume but that doesn’t really work for Dick I’ve checked and the only accessories he wears in canon are watches and belts neither of which fit the vibe so right now I’ve been considering a pin so that he can move it around as he pleases similarly to how Steph uses hers (examples of how Dick wears it: cufflinks, tie pin, bracelet charm, collar pin, loose in his pocket…)

Cass I was thinking some sort of hair ornament that would transform into the clips she wears in costume but I just don’t see her wearing clips so maybe when I redesign her batgirl/black bat design I’ll revisit I was looking at the comics to see what she wears out of costume and I noticed when she dresses up she usually wears a necklace so I think that could be cute

When they transform:

As I mentioned Dick’s becomes his circlet and Duke’s his winged headpiece

Barbara and Jason’s remain as rings and earrings respectively

Steph’s becomes her tiara

Cass’s is subject to change but for now it’s her hair clips

Tim’s is the circular chest plate thing that forms the bow

Damian’s becomes Alfred the Cat’s collar

Bruce I have yet to design so to be continued

I’m thinking I might design some of the artifacts for fun I don’t have a lot of experience in prop design so no promises but I think they would be super cute

[deliciousangelfestival]

Cozy Secrets || Chp 3

Character: Spy!Bucky x Roommate!Reader

Summary: Y/N found herself at her high school reunion, accompanied by her unexpected fake boyfriend, who also happened to be a spy.

Chp 1 , Chp 2, Chp 3, -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

The days turned into weeks, and there was still no sign of Bucky returning home. Y/N continued with her life, focusing on her work as an interior designer. Today's agenda involved meeting a new client, Mr. Kensington, an eccentric aristocrat who had recently acquired a house in New York.

Y/N arrived at the grand mansion, its façade oozing opulence and mystery. The butler led her through the elaborate corridors adorned with priceless artifacts until she reached Mr. Kensington's study. The room was filled with antique furniture, rare paintings, and an air of sophistication.

"Ah, Ms. Y/N, delighted to meet you," Mr. Kensington greeted with a flourish. He was a distinguished man, dressed in impeccable attire that matched the grandeur of his surroundings.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Kensington," Y/N replied, taking a seat.

Mr. Kensington wasted no time in getting to the point. "I've heard of your extraordinary skills in interior design, particularly your ability to keep matters discreet. I have a rather unique project for you."

Y/N nodded, intrigued. "I'm all ears. What do you have in mind?"

Mr. Kensington leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a spark of excitement. "I need a secret vault hidden in my study. A concealed door, perhaps behind a bookshelf or a portrait. I trust you can handle such a task?"

A secret vault, Y/N thought, the intrigue deepening. She had designed various rooms and hidden spaces in the past, but this request added a layer of mystery she found intriguing.

"Of course, Mr. Kensington. Creating concealed spaces is my specialty. Do you have any specific preferences or themes for the hidden door?"

Mr. Kensington stroked his chin, contemplating. "I fancy the idea of a bookshelf that reveals the entrance when a particular book is pulled. As for the theme, surprise me. I enjoy the unexpected."

Y/N nodded, mentally noting down the details. "Very well. I'll start working on the design, and we can discuss any adjustments or additions as the project progresses."

"Excellent, Ms. Y/N. Money is no object, so spare no expense in ensuring the utmost secrecy and sophistication," Mr. Kensington declared with a sly smile.

As Y/N delved into the intricacies of the project, discussing potential materials, hidden mechanisms, and the overall aesthetic, she couldn't help but be drawn into Mr. Kensington's eccentric world.

Days turned into weeks as Y/N meticulously planned and executed the design for the hidden vault. Mr. Kensington, appreciating her dedication and creativity, granted her access to the entire mansion, including rooms filled with his vast collection of artifacts.

One day, while working in the study, Y/N felt a subtle change in the atmosphere. The workers seemed unfamiliar, and a hushed voice whispered, "Psst, it's me."

Startled, Y/N turned to see Bucky disguised as one of the workers. The realization dawned on her – Bucky had been undercover in Mr. Kensington's mansion all along.

"Y/N," Bucky greeted with a smirk, "Surprised to see me?"

A mixture of relief and curiosity washed over her. "Bucky, what on earth are you doing here?"

Bucky chuckled. "Let's just say, your client and I have a mutual interest in keeping things hidden."

Y/N's surprise at seeing Bucky in disguise quickly transformed into a mix of confusion and intrigue. As she absorbed the revelation that Bucky had been undercover, she couldn't help but wonder about the true nature of Mr. Kensington's secrets.

Bucky, maintaining his cover among the workers, approached Y/N with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "Fancy meeting you here, Y/N. Turns out, our dear client has more than just a penchant for eccentric designs."

Y/N, still processing the information, replied with a subtle nod. She had become accustomed to the unexpected twists in her life, but this one took the cake.

Bucky leaned in, speaking in a low voice. "There's a nuclear code hidden within Mr. Kensington's vault. My mission is to retrieve it, but the security here is tighter than I anticipated."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, realizing the gravity of the situation. A nuclear code – a high-stakes game that transcended the realm of her usual discreet designs. She glanced at the intricately designed vault, wondering how it concealed such a dangerous secret.

"So, what's the plan?" Y/N asked, her words measured and composed.

Bucky explained the intricacies of the security systems and the need for Y/N's expertise. Her task was to create a diversion, something significant enough to draw attention away from the vault, while Bucky maneuvered through the mansion in pursuit of the elusive nuclear code.

As Y/N immersed herself in planning the diversion, she couldn't shake the feeling of being caught in a web of espionage and secrecy. The mansion, once a canvas for her creative designs, had transformed into a labyrinth of hidden agendas and dangerous secrets.

The night of the operation arrived, cloaked in shadows and suspense. Y/N, clad in dark attire, executed the diversion with precision. A well-timed malfunction in the mansion's power grid created chaos, diverting attention and leaving the security team scrambling to restore order.

In the midst of the commotion, Bucky, still disguised as a worker, stealthily navigated through the mansion. His every move calculated, blending seamlessly with the chaos Y/N had orchestrated.

As Bucky approached the vault, the tension escalated. The intricate mechanisms of Y/N's diversion worked their magic, creating a window of opportunity for Bucky to access the vault without raising suspicions.

However, just as Bucky reached for the vault's hidden entrance, an unexpected voice echoed through the study. "What's going on here?"

Y/N, stationed strategically to monitor the situation, recognized the voice – Mr. Kensington himself, drawn to the scene of the disturbance.

Bucky froze, his disguise momentarily at risk. Y/N, acting on instinct, stepped forward, her voice calm and authoritative. "Mr. Kensington, there's been a technical glitch. We're working to resolve it. Please return to a secure area."

Mr. Kensington scrutinized Y/N for a moment, his gaze piercing. Yet, something in her demeanor convinced him to heed her instructions. With a reluctant nod, he retreated from the study, leaving Y/N and Bucky in the tense aftermath.

As the seconds ticked away, Bucky resumed his mission. The hidden door creaked open, revealing the vault's mysterious contents. The nuclear code, concealed within a secure compartment, awaited extraction.

With the mission accomplished, Bucky discreetly exited the study, merging back into the chaos of the diversion. Y/N, maintaining her composed exterior, discreetly observed his retreat.

Once the mansion returned to a semblance of normalcy, Y/N and Bucky reconvened in a discreet location. The weight of the mission lingered between them, unspoken words echoing in the air.

"Thanks for the assist, Y/N," Bucky acknowledged, his gaze a mix of gratitude and an unspoken understanding.

As he prepared to depart, a sincere expression of gratitude painted his face. Bucky enveloped Y/N in a heartfelt hug.

"Y/N, you're a lifesaver," he whispered, the weight of unspoken appreciation hanging in the air. With a nod and a final glance, Bucky disappeared into the night, leaving Y/N to navigate the aftermath of espionage and the echoes of a world she had unexpectedly become a part of.

Y/N returned home, the events of the covert operation still playing in her mind like a suspenseful movie. The intricacies of espionage and the clandestine world were not something she had ever imagined becoming a part of, yet here she was, entangled in the mysteries that unfolded beyond her interior design projects.

The next day brought an unexpected visitor to her doorstep. A woman dressed in black, exuding an air of mystery, stood on her porch. She introduced herself as Natasha, a member of the same agency as Bucky.

"Y/N," Natasha began, her gaze sharp and assessing, "you handled the situation with Mr. Kensington admirably. You have a knack for navigating high-stakes scenarios. We could use someone like you."

Y/N, still processing the surreal turn of events, regarded Natasha with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. The agency, with its covert operations and hidden agendas, seemed like a world far removed from her artistic endeavors.

Natasha continued, "You've proven yourself resourceful and discreet. We have a proposal for you – join our ranks. Work with us, and your skills won't be limited to interior design."

Y/N hesitated, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. The quiet life she had known, filled with designs and creative projects, now stood at a crossroads. The allure of the unknown, coupled with the desire to unravel the mysteries that had become intertwined with her life, tugged at her curiosity.

"What do you say, Y/N?" Natasha inquired, her expression unreadable.

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A wee gift for @little-dreams-of-life based on a prompt from the HxH server. Thank you for the inspiration <3

Timothy Drake is home alone. The Drake Manor is big and quiet around him. He fills it with noise.

This isn’t new or exciting. Tim is home alone a lot. What is new is the crate a FedEx employee insisted on carrying inside when Tim answered the door. The guy asks for an adult to sign for the package, but Tim just stares at him. Tim signs for the thing.

There’s a worried glance tossed in his direction as the courier leaves. But Tim shrugs it off like all the others and closes the door, then does up the locks and security system like he was shown.

Tim is home alone and he goes back to his homework without a second thought to the crate. He fills the quiet house with his own noise. When he needs a break, he skateboards down the hallways. The skate park is better, and Tim thinks about checking the weather report to see if it’ll be nice enough to go after school tomorrow.

Tonight is supposed to be clear. Probably a good night for birdwatching.

He pauses at the top of the stairs, one foot on the floor and the other on the deck, idly kicking it forwards and back. There’s a school field trip soon. Tim won’t be going – there’s no one home to sign his permission slip. If anything, he realizes, it’d be a great day to spend at the park. Even though he really wants to go on the field trip too. There’s nothing to be done about it. He resolves to make the day as good as it can be despite the loneliness that sits like gargoyle on his chest.

The crate sits innocently in the Entrance Hall. Tim peers down at it from the top of the stairs. He purposefully lets his DCs slap loudly on the hardwood of the steps as he gallops down.

There’s no note on the outside. Tim crouches down to look it over, but most of the markings are just shipping labels like “FRAGILE” and “THIS WAY UP – DO NOT TURN”. He doesn’t recognize the consignor address. Last he knew, Jack and Janet Drake were in Cambodia and the crate is from Ireland. But he is familiar with his mother’s handwriting on the Customs manifest in the outside pouch, so at least he can assume it hasn’t been shipped to Drake Manor as a type of postal assault.

The top is nailed down and Tim thinks of the hammer in the groundskeeper’s shed. It takes him only moments to find, but takes almost an hour to prise it open. He’s sweating and annoyed when he finally slides the top off.

Anti-climatically, he’s greeted with packing peanuts. 

Rooting around in the offending Styrofoam unearths a folded note – also written in his mother’s hand. The note is definitely not addressed to Tim, so he sets it aside then continues digging. Tim slowly unearths his parents’ newest relic collectibles, like his very own archeological dig. It’s all the same-old-same-old, old stuff and whatever his parents think is worthy of purchasing. Ceremonial relics, cultural artifacts, ceramic vases and bowls and small votives. There’s one odd wood carving that looks like something he’d have to make in art class.

Nestled in the bottom of a crate is a small wooden box, polished to a gleaming deep brown. The brass hardware stands out against the dark burnish. Tim turns it over in his hands and admires it, appreciating the way it fits neatly in his palm. It’s quite high quality, even Tim can see that. But of course, the box is only an accessory to its contents. There was a fleeting consideration to shake it, but Tim stamped down on the urge. Afterall, whatever was inside was an antique, if not ancient.

Tim puzzles over the small metal figurine inside. The purple velvet lining makes the pewter look like silver. But Tim has no clue what the shape is or what it represents. He squints at it in the waning afternoon light of the hall. The pronged circle attached to a wide rectangle vaguely resembles an ancient depiction of a human, if humans had horns. Or maybe the circle is a torso and the prongs artistic rendition of limbs? The prong is flared, almost like it has a crown.

There's a leather throng looped through the head. Tim thinks it's ugly and wonders what type of person would wear it. Sometimes Mother wore the ancient jewelry they collected, but this wasn't to her usual taste. Thus there must be something culturally important about it.

A mystery. Tim likes those. He likes solving things, he likes worrying his mind over pieces that don't fit until they do. Afterall, it's how he figured out Batman’s and both Robins’ identities and started birdwatching.

He pushes to his feet and jogs up the stairs. The computer in his dad's office has an internet connection. No one ever notices Tim using it. The housekeeper won't be around until tomorrow when he's at school. She won't suspect a thing as long as he turns it off and doesn't make a mess.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, Tim trips over his abandoned skateboard. In the moment between losing his balance and hitting the ground, Tim thinks “oh crap” and prepares mentally for impact. Tim is no stranger to the fickle ways of gravity. You don't learn to skateboard without becoming the proud owner of scars and bruises. Tim automatically outstretches his hands to catch his fall

The strange pendant, still clutched in his hand, catches the soft meaty flesh of his palm. Tim hisses in pain, knee smarting. Gathers himself to sit cross legged and kicks the skateboard, annoyed at himself. He carefully uncurls his fingers, then gulps at the large gash on his hand. 

Oh god, Tim thinks while blinking at the deep cut. That definitely needs stitches. Oh shit, who can he call to get stitches? Who can take him? Tim glances around himself as if expecting someone to appear, to come running at the sound of his fall, to coo over his cut. 

A cold feeling fills his belly. Stupid. Tim knows there's no one there to help. But still he looked. Stupid.

Blood drips onto his jeans. He needs to get up, find a first aid kit. Skating is going to suck like this. He blinks back tears.

The light in the hallways shifts, darkens. It's getting late. He really needs to get up. With a sigh, Tim scolds himself then pushes to his feet, hurt hand cradled to his chest. But as he stands, the light continues to ebb away, darkness swirling around him. Tim freezes. The air pressure shifts and Tim shivers in the sudden chill.

“I am Fright Knight, Lord of Fear and the Spirit of All Hallows's Eve. Who dares summon me?” a voice rumbles, echoes, rings through the hallways, deep and haughty. Tim whirls towards it, hands halfway to covering his ears.

And nearly trips again on his skateboard. A man in a pure black suit of armor, glowing a menacing green, floats half a foot over the ground. Tim can't see the man's face as he towers over him, but the green glowing eyes bore into him.

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here?” Tim snaps. Ok, dumb move probably. But what else is Tim going to do? He's twelve and home alone.

The suit of armor tilts its head. Oh right, duh, Tim. It answered that.

“Right, Fright Knight, summoned. Was it this?” He shows the knight his hand and thoroughly bloodied pendant. They both stare at his hand. A quiet plip-plip of blood dripping onto the floor accentuates the quiet.

“Where are your guardians?”

“Not home.” Tim isn’t an idiot. He knows better than to tell people his parents are out of the country. Or that he’s home alone.

“When will they return home?”

Tim stares at the floating suit of armor for a long time. There’s an impression it is squinting at him. He shrugs.

Plip-plip goes his hand.

(Remainder of the fic on ao3!)