#what must that be like everyone is so amazed

[raerae2727]

When they blow up at you: multiple One Piece men x reader

You make them upset and they lose their temper + how they apologize

Includes: Ace, Kid, Law, Sanji, Crocodile, Doflamingo

GN! Reader, established relationship

Warnings: language, crocodile is neglectful and doffy is toxic, both reader and kid are lowkey toxic together, ace sanji and law’s parts are sweet tho💋

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Ace

He’s always pretty upbeat and tries not to show anger around you, but one day you make a joke that takes it too far. Your relationship had always been full of humor and you simply misunderstood what was acceptable to joke about and what wasn’t. You know you messed up when Ace goes quiet and puts his head down. You put your hand on his shoulder and frantically try to apologize, but he clearly isn’t having it as he stands and tries to walk away from you.

“Ace, wait! Listen!” You call as you try to pull him back, eager to explain yourself and properly apologize. He suddenly turns around and, in front of everyone, begins to lecture you.

“Why don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Your guilt quickly turns to anger at the hypocrisy of Ace’s words. It always seemed to you that no joke was “too far” because of the way he so freely poked fun at you, your interests, and those you care about. How dare he pin this accusation on you?

“You’re the one who can’t take anything serious!” You respond, raising your voice louder than his.

He’s basically yelling when he responds, “At least I know where to draw the line!”

“What about all those times you made fun of me? Is it only an issue when I do it back?”

Everyone is staring at you two by this point, but all you can focus on is holding back tears when Ace yells, “I guess we just don’t go well together!” He slams his hand on the table, “Good luck finding someone else who’ll put up with you for as long as I have!”

Ashamed and heartbroken, you rush to your room and cry into your pillow. It feels like an eternity before you finally hear a knock on your door. You don’t respond but Ace opens it and lets himself in anyways, setting down his hat. He sits on the edge of your bed and breaks the silence with, “Good thing I stayed calm out there, right?”

Amazed that he still has the audacity to joke around, you sit up and scold, “Ace!”

He holds up his arms defensively. “Sorry, Sorry, I’m ready to talk about it if you are. And for the record, I love putting up with you.”

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Kid

Your relationship was always explosive because of your captain’s temper, but he must have already been on edge today because this was worse than usual. Killer wanted some rest so Kid is trying to make dinner for the crew, but he absolutely sucks at cooking. He refuses to listen to your advice and tension is growing as you continue to try and help.

“Stop being so controlling! I’m the captain here!”

The smell of burnt food is getting stronger, and you can’t help but take the pan off the burner yourself. “We’re hungry. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just accepting help for once.” You try to keep your tone neutral to avoid a fight - which is clearly ineffective as Kid grabs you by the arm and pulls you outside of the kitchen.

“Why are you so set on embarrassing me in front of my crew!?” He shouts, gripping your shoulders.

You roll your eyes and speak calmly to make him feel like he’s overreacting. “It’s not that big of a deal. It would be more embarrassing if nobody was able to eat because your ego is too big to let me help.”

Kid is infamously bad with words, so he just responds by cursing and shoving you with much more force than intended. You go tumbling back until your head hits the wall and you fall to the floor. Kid looks shocked but before he can kneel down to help, you shoot up and shout, “What the fuck was that!?!”

“I don’t know!! Are you okay?” He yells back, panicked.

“No! I’m gonna tell Killer that you’re abusing me!” You scream, not realizing the whole ship can probably hear you two by now.

“No!” Kid responds fearfully, one-upping your volume and holding you in place by your shoulders again. “I swear I’ll always listen to you from now on! I promise! Please don’t tell on me, you know it was an accident!!”

Before you can scream back, the kitchen door swings open and you two stare at Killer like deer in headlights.

“Get in here and set the table. I knew you guys wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

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Law

Law always stretches himself too thin between working late, taking care of his crew, and making sure they don’t get themselves in too much trouble. He must have been losing a lot of sleep because of this, as he’s asking you to bring him his 4th cup of coffee today and it’s not even noon.

You tell him, “I don’t think I should do that, babe. I’m sorry. You should get some rest instead.” His under eye bags are especially dark today and his hair is messy.

“I have to get this done,” he responds calmly, though you can detect a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Can you at least get someone else to make it?”

When you go behind him and rub his shoulders, he sighs and leans back in his chair. He must be exhausted. “Please, babe?” He asks once more.

“Law, you of all people should know the importance of rest.”

He pulls away from your touch and crooks his neck to look in your eyes. “And you, of all people, should appreciate the work your captain does to keep this crew out of harm’s way.” He doesn’t yell, but the scolding tone of his voice hurts you more than yelling ever could. He stands up and walks to the kitchen, presumably to make his own coffee, and you follow behind. “Can’t you just give me some alone time for once?” He snaps.

You’re growing increasingly frustrated at Law’s stubborn attitude. “You need to rest! I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re putting your health at risk.”

“Sometimes,” he grabs you by the chin and leans in, “I have to make sacrifices for this crew. Be thankful.” You can’t help but start to tear up. His harsh words stung extra when he looked at you like that. Law lets go of you and his gaze softens when he realizes how upset he’s made you. The tone of the conversation immediately shifts. “Sorry, I-” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you cared that much.”

“Of course I care.” You cry. “I love you.” You pull him into a hug and he leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ll take a nap if you promise to stop crying.” He whispers, rubbing your back.

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Sanji

“Can you add a dash of salt to the soup, love?” Asks your boyfriend. He’s recently taken to including you while he cooks, which is an honor coming from someone who takes it so seriously. He’s gentle, patient, and excessively romantic with you in every aspect of the relationship, though sometimes finds himself being a bit more firm when cooking. You waltz across the kitchen, handing over him a knife, stirring a pot, or cleaning dishes for Sanji, whose hand finds your waist each time you pass. You dip your finger into the sauce he’s making and give it a taste.

“It’s good, maybe a bit bland though,” you comment.

“Noted, head chef,” he teases back playfully while accepting your criticism and adding more seasoning. When you go to take another taste, your elbow knocks over an inconveniently placed jar of olive oil, spilling it into the sauce and all over the counter.

“Shit! I’m sorry Sanji, I’ll clean it up.” He looks a bit disappointed, but gives you a soft smile and pat on the back.

“Don’t worry love, it happens,” his tone shifts to something more firm yet still gentle, “but we only have one jar left, so try to be a bit more careful for me in the future, yea?”

“It won’t happen again, promise.” Your mistake makes you shaky with nervousness because you know how seriously Sanji takes food waste. When you reach for a towel to clean up the oil, of course you accidentally knock over a pepper shaker. It falls to the ground and shatters, pepper corns bouncing all across the floor.

Panicked, you stutter out a pleading apology while you scramble to find a broom. “Oh my god babe, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m so clumsy to-”

“How about you just leave the cooking to me.”

You look up, surprised at his stern voice. He doesn’t look back at you, just grips the handle of his mixing spoon angrily. Your heart drops into your stomach in shame.

“Go find someone else to help me clean up this mess, okay?” You can tell he’s trying his absolute hardest to contain his disappointment, but it’s still evident in his tone. You silently leave the kitchen, embarrassed tears stinging your eyes.

You try to calm yourself down in your room before dinner, you don’t want any of your crew mates to know about your humiliating mistakes. Not even five minutes after you had left the kitchen though, your door swings open. Sanji is on his knees with a bouquet of flowers and big puppy dog eyes looking up at you.

“I have no words to describe how sorry I am for getting upset at you. My anger was a bigger mistake than any amount of spilled food.” Your emotions quickly turn upside down and you laugh at the dramatic display.

“Sanji! I should be the one apologizing!” You run up to him and pull him into a tight hug. You reassure him, “It’s okay to get frustrated sometimes. I’m not mad!” He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes you tight.

Smelling the bouquet, you ask, “Where did you even get these?”

“I have a stash,” and you both burst into laughter.

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Crocodile

It seems like all he does is work, and you’re fed up with it. You get so bored sitting around in Crocodile’s mansion all day while he’s locked up in his office. Luckily, he left the door ajar today and you’ll be able to force him to give you the attention you deserve. You slink through the door and hoist yourself up onto the edge of his oversized desk.

“What.” He says gruffly, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m booored,” you whine, swinging your feet, “wanna go swimming?”

Crocodile sighs and rubs his temple in annoyance, still not looking up. “Go fetch me a drink and I’ll consider it.”

“No you won’t!” You argue, “you always say that!”

He slams a fist on the table and finally looks up to meet your eyes. “Maybe I would want to spend more time with you if you weren’t so whiny! Now go!”

You’re shocked and hurt by his unexpected anger and leave defeated, looking back one last time to see him continuing his work, seemingly unbothered.

Later that night, as you’re lying in bed reading, you hear the door softly creak open. Crocodile is holding an unopened expensive perfume with a ribbon tied around it.

“I know I haven’t had a lot of time for you lately, and I’m sorry.” He sighs, setting the gift on your nightstand and undoing his tie. “We’ll go swimming next week, I promise.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting into his robe.

As you drift off to sleep, you look at the various expensive gifts he’s gotten you as apologies, knowing he will never follow through with his promises.

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Doflamingo

Making Doflamingo angry is always the last thing you want to do, but his immature sense of entitlement can be infuriating. The two of you were watching the sunset by the poolside and discussing your latest reads while waiting on a servant to bring another bottle of wine. You didn’t notice how long it was taking until he brought it up.

“What’s taking that damn worm so long?” What’s so hard about fetching a bottle of wine?” The veins in his forehead started to bulge, a telltale sign of his annoyance.

You take his hand in yours and rub your thumb into his palm, trying desperately to keep him calm. “I’m sure it’ll be here soon, Doffy. Let’s not worry about it for now - keep telling me about your book.”

He could see right through you. Any attempt at influencing his emotions always only made it worse.

“Don’t baby me. This is an act of utter insolence and I don’t know why you expect me to tolerate it.” He slaps your hand away. “I’ll give that rat a piece of my mind once it gets here.” As much as you want to just leave it at that and enjoy the rest of your evening, your unrest with Doflamingo’s behavior has been growing for weeks and you speak before you can think.

“Can’t we just have one nice evening where you don’t have to abuse someone over the tiniest thing? It’s just some wine, we’ll live.” You’re terrified to see his frown turn into a wide grin as he starts to laugh.

“Have you forgotten who I am? Who you have the privilege of being close to?” With one sweep of his arm he knocks your glass off the table, shattering it and making you jump in fear. “Get out of my sight,” He hisses.

Offended by his quick switch-up, you bargain, “Doffy, can’t we just talk abou-”

“Out!” He yells. “And that’s Young Master to you!”

You scurry inside the palace, knowing things could get ugly if you chose to stick around. You wait all night for him to come knocking on your door with a superficial apology, even a passive aggressive one, but he never shows.

That petty man child was avoiding you. A whole week goes by before you even see his face. As you’re playing chess with Diamanté (who’s even more insufferable) to pass the time, you find yourself wishing you were with Doflamingo instead. As if on cue, he struts in and ruffles your hair from behind.

“What do you say we go share a drink together, just you and me, hm?” He muses, rubbing your shoulders as if he hadn’t just disappeared for a week. Your anger towards him subsides at his touch. You know you only feel this way because of his manipulative charm, but you let yourself love Doffy anyway.

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[thewales-family]

Happy 43rd Birthday to The Princess of Wales -January 9th 2025.

On this ninth day of 2025, I would like to wish the Princess of Wales a very happy birthday. 2024 was brutal for her and I hope she has a brilliant and healthy year. She fought against cancer last year and once again she showed her strength and determination to fight for her children and her husband who also supported her a lot. But at the beginning of the year, she also had to stay strong while idiots spread disgusting theories without knowing what she was going through. However, it is because of her strength that she is truly an inspiration. She won't stop impressing us even though she's human and must have rough days sometimes. No need to mention how she is such a gorgeous, amazing woman, simple, natural, kind and attentive to everyone she meets. She lives up to her title of “The Children's Princess” so well because she is so gentle with children and works hard with her project The Early Childhood for the healthy development of children. She is also a loving and devoted mother and she is very present in the education of her children as well as a loving wife who supports her husband and obviously loves him.

Catherine, thank you already for everything you have done and will continue to do. You are a true ray of sunshine despite what you have been through. You are so loved and you will be a brilliant Queen. We love you so much.

📷 (4 & 9) : Chris Jackson & Andrew Parsons/Kensington Palace.

[sasheemo]

When We Collide

Chapter 14

Chapter Summary: You wake to Agatha's unsettling yet impossibly grounding presence, unspoken questions threatening to unravel a fragile moment. And just like that, walls begin to crack.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N (very long, sorryyy): I still can’t believe it, but here we are. After exactly one month since the last chapter was published, I’m officially back! I can’t promise the creative block I’ve been struggling with for When We Collide is completely gone, but I’m really trying, and I’m so happy to continue this story.

Before you dive in, I just want to take a moment to make a small dedication:

Over the past week, I’ve received an overwhelming amount of love and support that I never expected. Moots, strangers, and even anonymous readers stepped forward in the comments of my update posts on Tumblr or slid into my DMs to show their appreciation and encouragement. You know who you are. It’s because of all of you that, in just over 24 hours, I managed to write an entire chapter after being stuck for a whole month. You gave me an incredible boost of energy and motivation. So, this chapter is for you. To my moots, followers, and each dedicated reader of When We Collide. To everyone who messaged me privately or left a comment on a post or a fic. To those who, even without reaching out directly, have always supported me with their thoughts and good vibes, waiting patiently for an update and never abandoning this story. What you’ve done, and continue to do, for me is amazing. You’ve filled me with so much love and support, and I truly hope this chapter (and the ones to come—yes, they’re coming, hehe) can serve as a proper thank-you.

It’s true that writing should primarily be for yourself, but when you receive this kind of support and encouragement, it becomes something truly special to write for others too.

Let me know what you think of the chapter, and thank you from the bottom of my heart! 💜

PS: Spoiler—I literally felt my heart break while writing a certain piece of dialogue. Had to pause, pick up the pieces, and keep going. Sorry y’all, I couldn’t resist 💔

Chapter Index

Read on AO3

You stir awake to the faint glow of the early afternoon, the light filtering softly through the edges of the curtains. For a brief, suspended moment, your mind lingers in the haze of sleep, the kind where nothing feels quite real, and you’re not entirely sure where you are. Then the weight registers.

The warm, undeniable weight of someone pressed against you.

Your breath catches, your body locking in place as you become acutely, painfully aware of Agatha’s head resting on your shoulder.

Her dark hair brushes against your neck, faintly ticklish, while her arm lies draped across your waist.

You don’t dare move. Not even a twitch.

Every nerve in your body stands at attention, screaming for you to do something. But you lie there, frozen, your heart hammering so loudly you’re sure it’ll wake her. The thought of turning your head to look at her fills you with a mixture of terror and curiosity, and you’re too paralyzed to face either.

You try—really try—to focus on the practicalities. How did this even happen? You’d climbed into bed hours ago, stiff as a board, determined to keep your distance. You’d stayed on your side, curled up awkwardly, staring at the wall like it held the answers to every question you were too afraid to ask.

But then sleep had come. Or at least something like it—a restless tangle of half-dreams and unconscious movements, shifting and turning under the weight of the night’s tension. 

At some point, the gap between you must have closed. At some point, her arm must have found its way across you.

A thousand excuses rush through your mind, each more fragile than the last, as if rationalizing the moment could make the closeness disappear. But they all crumble, leaving behind one undeniable truth: you don’t want to move. Not really.

You tell yourself it’s fear. Fear of waking her. Fear of the look on her face if she realized the position you’re in. Confusion? Annoyance? Disgust? The thought twists your stomach into painful knots. But beneath the fear, another emotion lingers, quieter and far more dangerous.

It feels… good.

You hate how much you notice it, how your senses seem to betray you with every passing second. The softness of her hair brushing your neck, the heat of her body radiating against your side, the faint pressure of her arm resting on you—it all feels far too natural, far too easy, like some cruel joke the universe decided to play.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to move, to shift, to put some distance between you. But your body doesn’t listen. You’re too hyper-aware of every tiny detail, of how close she is, of how safe she feels.

A shaky exhale escapes you, your chest rising just enough to disturb the delicate stillness between you. Agatha stirs slightly in her sleep, a soft sound escaping her lips as her arm tightens instinctively around you.

Your heart practically leaps into your throat.

You swallow hard, trying to convince yourself that this is normal. That there’s nothing strange or inappropriate about lying here like this. That it doesn’t mean anything. That it’s just an accident, a coincidence. That’s all.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Except it’s not. 

Because no matter how much you want to believe that this is accidental, that she’s completely unaware, a small, traitorous part of you wonders what it would mean if she wasn’t.

You try to focus on the ceiling, on the faint creak of the house settling around you, on anything other than her. But it’s impossible. Because no matter how still you stay, no matter how hard you try to quiet your thoughts, Agatha’s presence fills every corner of the room—and every corner of you.

Your breath hitches as you finally, finally let yourself turn your head. It’s tentative at first, a small, hesitant shift of movement. 

Your chin almost brushes her forehead, and the nearness of her—so close you could count the faint freckles scattered across her skin—leaves you utterly undone. 

For a moment, you can’t think, can’t breathe. The sight of her like this, her face so close to yours, is enough to send your thoughts spiraling.

Your gaze moves carefully, tracing her features as if each one might dissolve into smoke if you looked too quickly.

Sharp and soft. The words loop in your mind like a mantra, and you can’t stop staring. The sharp lines of her jaw and cheekbones, the delicate curve of her lips—they blend danger and allure in a way that leaves you off-balance, like she was never meant to be anything less than both.

Your let your thoughts drift, unbidden, to what you know about her. And, perhaps more troubling, to what you don’t.

You’ve spent all your life in the same coven, shared the same spaces, breathed the same air, yet she’s always been distant. A figure just out of reach, admired and feared in equal measure by most.

You sift through your memories, trying to piece together fragments, to make sense of the person sprawled across you now.

Everyone has been speaking of Agatha’s power in hushed tones since you were children—the raw, unpredictable force of her magic. How it brims with potential but defies control. Even the older witches have always been wary of her, watching her like a storm poised on the horizon.

And then there’s the story. The one no one speaks of outright but that lingers in fragments, carried around by rumors and half-truths.

It was just over a couple of years ago. One of the daughters of your mother’s friends—a girl you barely knew, though her name still echoes through the village homes and halls—was found dead in the woods. Cold, lifeless. Drained.

The whispers said it was Agatha.

They claimed she had taken the girl’s power, siphoned it like a flame devouring a candlewick. That she left her there, alone in the woods, to die. 

But that girl wasn’t just anyone. She was Agatha’s best friend.

The rumors painted it as a calculated act of power, a way to send a message and solidify her place as the rightful heir to the coven’s legacy. They said her magic demanded sacrifice, and she hadn’t hesitated to give one.

But that version of the story never sat right with you.

Even more so now, with Agatha asleep beside you, her head resting on your shoulder, her breathing slow and even in sleep. The idea of this Agatha—the Agatha who clings to you in her slumber—being the monster the rumors describe feels impossible to reconcile.

You’ve always wondered if there was more to the story. If the truth had been buried beneath layers of fear, jealousy, and Evanora’s carefully orchestrated manipulations. 

Because if there’s one thing you know about Evanora Harkness, it’s that she’d burn the truth to ashes to protect her image.

The slow rise and fall of your chest brushes faintly against Agatha’s arm, jolting you back to the present. You exhale shakily, your gaze locking once again on her face.

She looks so… harmless. The thought slips into your mind unbidden, and you can’t stop yourself from clinging to it. Here, now, in your bed, tangled against you, she does look harmless. Innocent, even.

And yet… the stories remain. The danger, the sharpness, the fury—it’s still there, lurking just beneath her momentary serene exterior. 

You should move. You really should. Break the moment, pull away, regain the distance you’re supposed to have. But you don’t. You can’t. Because for all the danger and mystery that surrounds Agatha Harkness, there’s something else, too.

Something that keeps you rooted in place, your gaze drinking her in, feeling her presence in every breath you take.

The stillness is interrupted by a faint shift. Agatha stirs against you, her body shifting slightly as her fingers twitch where her hand rests near your waist. Her breathing changes, no longer the even, steady rhythm of sleep but something shallower, more conscious.

You freeze, your own breath caught in your chest. Her head lifts just a fraction before settling again, her hair brushing against your neck in a way that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. For one agonizing moment, you wonder if she’ll pull away.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Agatha lets out a soft exhale, her lashes fluttering as her eyes blink open, slow and heavy with sleep. There’s a beat—a single, suspended second where her gaze adjusts, flitting from the faint light of the room to you.

Her arm remains draped across your waist, though her fingers flex slightly, testing their place. Her lips twitch, just barely, into something resembling a smirk.

“Is this how you treat all your guests, or am I just special?” she murmurs, her voice husky and rough from sleep, the teasing lilt sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

The words pull you from your haze of panic into full-blown mortification, heat rising to your face as you open your mouth, then close it, scrambling for a response. 

“You—you asked me to stay!” you stammer, your voice breaking as you shift just a little, glaring at her. “Don’t twist this into—”

Agatha cuts you off with an expression so faux-innocent you want to scream, her tone light but laced with mockery. 

“Did I?” she muses, her brow quirking as though she’s genuinely pondering it. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

Your jaw drops. 

Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since she stirred, and her smirk only makes it worse. The audacity, the smugness. She’s so calm, like waking up tangled together is just another morning for her.

For you? It’s a waking nightmare—or at least, that’s the excuse you cling to as you try to suppress the heat that is completely taking hold of your whole body. Your fists clench at your sides, and your frustration boils over. 

“You did! You said—” you stop yourself, huffing in exasperation as her smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“And you’re far too fun to annoy.” she counters shifting slightly, her arm sliding away from your waist as she props herself up on one elbow.

You bite back another retort, your face burning as you turn your head to look anywhere but at her. She’s infuriating. Smug and sharp-tongued and—close. Too close.

The silence stretches for a beat, and you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. 

It doesn’t help that she’s still watching you, her gaze a quiet weight against your skin. You can feel it without looking—how her smirk lingers, how her eyes flicker between amusement and something unreadable.

She shifts again, finally breaking the silence. 

“Well,” she says softly, her voice still carrying that teasing lilt, “if this is how you handle all your guests, I can’t imagine they stay very long.”

Your breath hitches, and you glance at her despite yourself, catching the faintest flicker of something beneath her grin. She’s teasing, sure—but there’s an edge to it, a quiet discomfort she’s trying to mask.

You huff again, crossing your arms and refusing to let her get the last word. “Maybe they don’t. But you did ask me to stay, so if you have complaints, take it up with yourself.”

Her grin softens slightly, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans back a little, her hand brushing against the blanket as she rests her weight on her palm. Her gaze flickers briefly to the window, her expression almost thoughtful.

You watch her for a moment, your own irritation ebbing away as curiosity takes its place. She’s still infuriating, still impossible—but there’s something else, too. Something quieter. 

You should let it go. The tension, the moment—it’s already too much and you both literally just woke up. But the question lodges itself in your throat, unspoken words buzzing like a swarm. You don’t even mean to say it. It just… slips out. “What really happened that day?”

Agatha’s head tilts slightly, her eyes cutting back to yours in a sharp, measured motion. 

“What?” she asks, her tone casual, but there’s a sudden wariness in her gaze, the edge of a blade being drawn.

You hesitate, regretting the words almost immediately, but it’s too late now. 

“The girl.” you clarify, your voice quieter than you intended. “The one they say you… killed.”

The room seems to still, the air shifting as the words settle between you. 

Agatha doesn’t move, her expression unreadable, but the flicker of something raw flashes behind her eyes—a shadow that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.

Her lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Really?” she drawls, leaning back slightly, the picture of feigned nonchalance. “That’s what you want to talk about? Here? Now?”

Your stomach twists at the sharpness of her tone, but you don’t look away. 

“I just…” You pause, choosing your words carefully. “I just want to know the truth.”

Agatha lets out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she looks away again. 

“The truth…” she mutters, her voice low, almost mocking. “You’re the first person to actually ask me for it, you know?”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless. 

“Wait.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “No one’s ever—?”

“No.” Agatha cuts in sharply, her tone laced with dry amusement that barely conceals the bitterness beneath.“Why would they? They already think they know. They don’t need my version.” 

She scoffs, her lips curling into a sardonic smirk.

Your chest tightens painfully at the words, the weight of what she’s said settling over you like a heavy fog. If no one’s ever asked for her version of the story, if no one’s cared enough to hear the truth… then everything you’ve heard—the whispers, the rumors, the stories—might not be true. Or at least, not entirely.

Agatha’s gaze flickers back to you, piercing and unreadable, as if she can sense where your thoughts are heading. 

“I know what they say.” she continues, her voice quieter now, colder. “Some of it’s lies, some of it’s not.”

Your breath catches, her words hanging between you like a challenge, daring you to press further. And you do. 

“But if not all of it’s true…” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, “… then why?”

You hesitate, the question twisting in your chest before it finally escapes. “Why do you let them believe those things about you, hmm?”

That stops her cold.

Her gaze locks on you, her expression sharp and unyielding, but there’s something flickering beneath the surface—something fragile and dangerous and far too human.

For a moment, you swear you see something shatter behind the mask she wears so flawlessly. And when she finally speaks, her whispered answer tears through the silence like thunder.

“Because the truth is too awful.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at her. The rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she so desperately tries to hide, steals the breath from your lungs.

But you don’t back down. Not now.

“Maybe.” you say quietly, your voice softening but steady. “But I don’t think it’s worse than the lies, than the stories people tell.”

Her head tilts slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. The tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease, but there’s something in her gaze—a flicker of hesitation, of consideration.

“You’re persistent.” she mutters, the edge returning to her voice, though it’s quieter now.

“And you’re exhausting.” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual despite the knot in your chest tightening with every passing second. “But since it looks like we’re stuck together—and you’re literally in my bed—you might as well tell me.”

You know the truth, though: you’re not really stuck together. Agatha could leave anytime she wanted—she’s clever, resourceful, and probably already thought of four different ways to slip out unnoticed, if she needed or wanted to.

But you also suspect that getting Agatha Harkness to open up requires more than simple patience. She needs to feel cornered—not with malice, but with intent. She has to know that someone is paying attention, that someone cares enough to ask, and that walking away won’t make the questions disappear. So you hold her gaze, refusing to let the moment slip away.

Agatha exhales sharply, the sound laced with frustration as she rubs a hand over her face. For a long, agonizing moment, you think she might retreat entirely. But then her hand falls, and she looks at you again.

And just like that, the walls begin to crack.

[therapardalis]

ohisms

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 . ( a collection of dialogue prompts from the film the hobbit : the desolation of smaug . adjust phrasing as necessary . )

[Cut for length.]

this is no chance meeting , is it , [ name ] ?

take back your homeland .

what if i were to help you reclaim it ?

that's not the worst of it .

we have another problem .

what did i tell you ? quiet as a mouse .

will you just listen ? i'm trying to tell you there's something else out there .

the bear is unpredictable , the man can be reasoned with .

come away from there , it's not natural . none of it .

it's obvious , he's under some dark spell .

you'll be safe here tonight ... i hope .

we grow in number , we grow in strength .

death will come to all .

there are others like you ?

you're running out of time .

a darkness lies upon that forest .

i would not venture there except in great need .

go now while you have the light .

this forest feels ... sick . as if a disease lies upon it .

something moves in the shadows unseen , hidden from our sight .

if our enemy has returned , we must know .

i would not do this unless i had to .

you've changed , [ name ] .

you must stay on the path . do not leave it . if you do , you'll never find it again .

is there no end to this accursed forest ?

we're going around in circles , we are lost .

the sun . we have to find the sun .

we're being watched .

they're growing bolder .

not just a thief , but a liar as well .

i myself suspect a more prosaic motive .

i have seen how you treat your friends .

you turned away from the suffering of my people .

a hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf . i'm patient . i can wait .

did he offer you a deal ?

shh ! there are guards nearby .

you were supposed to be leading us out , not further back in !

are you mad ? they'll find us .

please . please , you must trust me .

this is not a nice place to meet .

why now , [ name ] ? i don't understand .

a human sorcerer could not summon such evil .

in our blindness , the enemy has returned .

the enemy is preparing for war .

i started this . i cannot forsake them , they are in grave danger .

you want me to cast my friends aside ?

i think we've outrun the orcs .

we've no weapons to defend ourselves .

do it again , and you're dead .

what makes you think i would help you ?

no doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed .

oh , come on - enough of the niceties .

i would like to know who you are . and what you're doing in these lands .

we need food , supplies ... weapons . can you help us ?

i'd wager there are ways to enter that town unseen .

for that , you'd need a smuggler .

there was more he could have told us .

i don't care what he calls himself , i don't like him .

we don't have to like him , we just have to pay him .

i've been bled dry by this adventure ! and what have i seen for my investment ?

if you value your freedom , you'll do as i say .

folk in this town are suffering .

you'd do well to remember ; we know where you live .

it's a small town , [ name ] , everyone knows where everyone lives .

who would have the nerve to question my authority ?

you promised us weapons .

death ! that is what you'll bring upon us .

have you forgotten what happened to [ name / location ] ?

let us not be so quick to lay blame .

join us when you're healed .

[ name ] , you belong with the company .

i belong with my brother .

we have no time to wait , we're on our own .

the evil that is hidden here ... i command it reveal itself .

you have keen eyes , [ name ] .

let all those who doubted us rue this day !

i know these walls ... these halls , this stone .

i do not know what you'll find down there .

it never ceases to amaze me . the courage of hobbits .

if there is in fact a live dragon down there , don't waken it .

come , now ... don't be shy . step into the light .

there is something about you , something you carry .

there you are , thief in the shadows .

i did not come to steal from you .

do you think flattery will keep you alive ?

what else do you claim to be ?

truly , you are mistaken .

you have nice manners , for a thief and a liar .

i know the smell and taste of dwarf .

they are drawn to treasure like flies to dead flesh .

did you think i did not know this day would come ?

you should leave us .

and go where ? there is nowhere to go .

the dragon , it's going to kill us .

i kill where i wish , when i wish .

my armor is iron , no blade can pierce me .

i need you to distract the guards .

time to do what , to get killed ?

yes , i'm afraid . i'm afraid for you .

you're not yourself .

the darkness is coming ... it will spread to every corner of the land .

you were only ever a means to an end .

i will not part with a single coin . not one piece of it .

your reputation precedes you .

you have no equal on this earth .

i think our little game ends here .

so tell me , thief ... how do you choose to die ?

we've given him the slip .

there may be a way out .

it's our only chance , we have to try .

i've heard tales of the wonders of elvish medicine .

that was a privilege to witness .

i will not die like this . cowering . gasping for breath .

if this is to end in fire , then we will all burn together .

perhaps it is time i paid them a visit .

this isn't their fault !

you care about them , do you ? good . then you can watch them die .

i am taking back what you stole .

you will take nothing from me .

i laid low your warriors of old . i instilled terror in the hearts of men .

this is not your kingdom . these are dwarf lands .

revenge ? revenge ?! i will show you revenge !

i am fire . i am death .

what have we done ?

[asocial-lobster]

What We Leave Behind

Everyone leaves something behind. Sky knows this better than most. He has left eight amazing brothers behind in favor of going home to his own era.

Or perhaps it was them who left him?

There is a vacuum in his life. A certain chill to the air in his lungs, unspoken jokes bubbling painfully in his chest. Sky has known a lot of grief in his short life, and he recognizes this feeling for what it is: love turned lonely.

His brothers have not just left emptiness behind, though. It is Zelda who points it out first: Sky has begun wearing his sailcloth like Warriors carries his scarf. He scratches his neck like Hyrule when he is nervous, and his words are thoughtful and mature like Time's. His snarky wit has become more pronounced, honed from months in Legend's company. When he cooks, his fingers expertly find the correct spices without thinking.

Sky's brothers have left a gaping hole in his heart, but they have also left a thousand small habits and gestures. Like driftwood, they keep Sky afloat as he grieves. And if he sometimes cries when a memory of his brothers rises to the surface, then what of it? He is not ashamed to have loved and lost.

So Sky writes down everything he remembers about his brothers and clings to it, remembers. He wonders if he has left a lifetime of odd habits and joys with them, too. 

XXX

Four is a scholar, and he takes pride in that fact. He is a scholar and a blacksmith and an adventurer, a husband and an uncle. A brother. Four has always been good at filling his life with meaning. 

There are many people Four loves, many of whom he'll never see again. Still, he holds that love securely in every part of his tattered soul; it fills him, keeps his life worth living. He thinks of them often and must reconcile with the fact that he won't ever know what became of them.

All except one.

He has only been home for a year, when the need to know what became of Sky gets too strong to handle. Four is a scholar. He knows how to search for old myths and half-forgotten tales. Four is an adventurer. He knows how to carry himself with confidence on the roads, how to avoid danger and how to escape alive when the danger can no longer be avoided. Four is a brother. He knows how to mourn someone who isn't dead, just out of reach.

It is on this adventure that Four meets Aaron. Aaron is a scholar like Four, but also a baker and a petter of cats and a kind soul. Aaron's soul is whole and unblemished unlike Four's, but he doesn't mind. He is not a brother. He is both something more and something less, because Four knows that brotherly love and romantic love are entirely different things. It's not less, not more. It's just different.

Aaron follows when Four keeps travelling. Hand in hand, they scour the small towns for clues. They flip through old, dusty books and sneeze when it tickles their noses. Aaron makes hot cocoa and apple pie for Four's late-night studies.

Hundreds of years have passed since Sky's era, but Four finds what he is looking for at long last. It is not much, just a few lines in a grimy tome about the first rulers of Hyrule. King Link and Queen Zelda who descended from the heavens. According to the tome, they had two children. Only the oldest, Dinah, is mentioned by name.

Four leans into Aaron's embrace and smiles. He always expected something like that from Sky's future - they all did, really. Sky knew his place in the world long before he met the Chain.

Out of all of them, Sky has changed the world the most. The first hero, the first king. Four wonders if Sky knows just how many good things he has left in his wake.

XXX

Time's life on Lon Lon Ranch is uneventful compared to his adventures but never boring. He likes how small his life is these days. He is allowed to care only about those closest to him instead of the whole kingdom. It is nice to walk into the barn in the morning and know that the horses and cows are dependent on him to feed them, not to save the world.

At night, Malon's body is warm against his, a comfort he has been sorely lacking during his last adventure. Her hair tickles his cheek, but he doesn't brush it away. After so long apart, he cherishes the moments when they are close.

He misses the boys often. Not as they were on their adventure, high-strung and anxious, but as they were during their breaks and on Lon Lon Ranch. He misses Warriors' jokes and Legend's sarcastic remarks. The sailor was always so full of energy, mouth running faster than his mind – an impressive feat, given Wind's intelligence. Twilight was quieter, but no less funny or mischievous than the others. 

Time misses them, and in his ideal world, they would all be living on the ranch with him, Malon, and Talon. But the boys have their own lives in their own eras.

Time doesn't go looking for stories about the others. Only Sky and Four come before him in the timeline, and he feels fairly certain they have led happy lives. Sky had both Sun and Groose waiting for him at home, and the skyloftian was mature and kind. He will build a life for himself, Time is sure of it.

Four was well-balanced, a man in tune with his emotions. He had Dot and his grandfather. Four has adapted to sudden changes before, Time knows. He will adapt to this, too.

The person Time longs to see again the most is Warriors. Not because he loves him more than the others, but because he is worried about the captain. Warriors has been through so much already, and he was depressed when they parted. Time can't stand the thought that he'll never know if Warriors fought his way out of depression and into the happy life he deserved.

His adventure with the Chain has left Time with many happy memories, but it has also left a nagging worry in the back of his mind which he fears will never disappear.

XXX

Legend has spent a lifetime searching for weapons and items and answers to a thousand problems. He has fought and bled for a kingdom which never held any particular fondness for him - a prince in a line of princesses and queens. Still, Legend has risked his life many, many times on adventures.

What is a few more?

This time, it is not adventures of Hylia's kind. There is no returning king of evil, no nefarious lizards or scheming mages. There is only Legend's desperate wish to reconnect with the brothers he has left behind.

He finds old, forgotten dungeons filled with treasure. Most of it has nothing to do with his brothers, but some of it has. He finds weapons of Four's making. He even finds a quiet stone chamber with cracked gravestones. The fading text reads:

Her Majesty Queen Zelda Hylia Hyrule

and

His Majesty King Link Hyrule

Legend pays his respects and leaves. Sky deserves a peaceful rest.

The biggest prize he finds is a ratty notebook. It is buried deep within a dungeon, and Legend has no idea how it wound up there. But the title page reads Link in Four's neat handwriting, and that's a miracle in itself.

The small book is filled with sketches of weapons. Comments fill the margins. Some are about the swords' blades, observations on how well the metal folded or how durable they turned out to be.

But some comments are of another kind. Recipes and grocery lists are scattered across the pages. A recipe for apple pie stands out with a small heart next to the A. Legend wonders if maybe it was Four's favorite.

Ravio helps him bake the pie with apples from the tree in their garden. It's a perfect mix of sweet and sour. Almost like life, Legend muses. Happiness is always intertwined with grief. Sweet and sour.

He likes to read the book, again and again, when nightmares chase his sleep away. There really are a lot of recipes in the book. Did Four take up baking? Or did he marry a baker? Legend has no way of knowing, but he likes to speculate. The book lies on his nightstand when he goes to bed.

He writes his own little book, too. Maybe Hyrule will find it someday.

XXX

After a whole year with the Chain, Hyrule's era feels colder than he remembers it. But Hyrule can deal with it. He is used to the cold.

There's still a lot of work to do. Hyrule may have saved the world again, but his kingdom is still healing. The poison from the curse lingers like stains in an old carpet that can't be washed out. 

Hyrule is young. He was even younger when he went on his first adventure, fingers gripping uncertainly around a sword too big for his childish hands. Hyrule's grip is no longer awkward. Now, his fingers curl around the hilt like they were made for it. Maybe they were. 

How young is too young to be Hylia's chosen hero? Some of his brothers were younger yet when they were called by their first adventure.

Hyrule is cold, but he carries a flame in his heart. It is nursed by Wild's steady hands, shielded by Twilight's broad frame. The memories are painful, but Hyrule chases them anyway. They're the only thing he has left of his brothers.

Sometimes the flame is a roaring fire, devouring everything in its path. Other times, it is but a candlelight, barely enough to stave off the cold. He tells Aurora about it one day, and she helps him search the royal archives for old tomes and ancient scripts which may provide him with the closure he yearns for. But the curse has not been kind to old relics, and a lot of information has been lost to time. Legend is mentioned many times in the scripts, saving the kingdom again and again. It does not mention anything about his life after his last adventure. Hyrule hopes this is because Legend settled down to live a quiet life.

The archives do not mention neither Four nor Sky at all.

The flame burns in Hyrule's chest, and sometimes he fears it will devour him, too.

XXX

The deck rocks gently beneath Wind's feet. He rarely spends time on land these days, instead chasing the blue waves and playing tag with the salty sea breeze. He has been on many adventures during his short life, but he is not yet tired of the wonders in this world. The ship is a gateway, it is a magical portal. There is only one place it cannot take him, and that is the one place he most desperately wants to go.

Wind stares into the blue water and wonders what is hidden deep beneath it. Are you out there? He wonders. Has the ocean claimed your bones?

The sea is vast and infinite. Some days, she is kind, other days an angry, roaring beast. Wind's brothers lived in this world once, but the ocean has long since scrubbed the world clean of any remnant of them.

XXX

Twilight does not need to look for clues to know what happened to Time. The Old Man's regrets turned him into a stal, and he only found peace after Twilight met him. It hurts Twilight's heart to know that Time will yet have to suffer so much.

But there are still things to discover, unanswered questions lingering on his tongue.

 Twilight has visited Lon Lon Ranch many times during his adventures in Time's era. The world may have changed since then, but not much. Once he starts looking, it is easy to find his way back there.

He spends an entire day just looking at the ranch from afar. The stable has been painted in a light brown, and the fences have been moved so that the cows have more space. Smoke rises from the chimney.

An old woman sees him hiding in the tree line. She approaches him with a surprising confidence despite her age, demanding to know why he is lurking around on her farm.

The woman's hair is gray save for a few red strands which she has brushed back into a braid. Her eyes are sharp, and her face is lined with dimples and sorrows alike.

At first Twilight can do nothing but stare at her, taking in the embroidered cuffs on her shirt, the apron which covers her skirt. He manages to tell her that his family once lived here. The Lons. He asks if she knows what became of them.

The woman goes still. At first Twilight thinks he might have said something wrong, but then he sees the tears in her eyes.

The woman is his grandmother. She ushers him into a kitchen which feels familiar and wrong at the same time. The dining table is too sturdy. There are more shelves than there shouod be.

She finds cookies and milk – Lon Lon milk – in the pantry and sits him down in a chair. She tells him the story of her daughter and son-in-law who took their little son with them to the market and never came back. She tells him of the boy's brown hair and gentle eyes, of how he answered to the name Link.

She cries as Twilight tells her of his life, and at one point she grabs his hand in hers. Twilight lets her do it and cries a little himself.

The woman's name is Eva. She only had the one daughter, but she has a younger brother who lives in Castletown and a twin sister who lives with her on the ranch. The sister's children live on the ranch too, though they and their mother are out for the day. Twilight has more family out there, and Eva promises to introduce them soon. In turn, Twilight agrees to take her to meet Rusl, Uli, and Colin.

Eva is Time and Malon's daughter. She speaks very fondly of them and listens to Twilight's tales with interest. Unfortunately, Malon passed away a few years ago, and Twilight feels his heart break at the news. Eva is relieved to hear that Time has found rest.

The sky is rapidly darkening outside the windows, and the ranch's other inhabitants come home. They greet him with hugs and teary smiles. Twilight stays for dinner with the family he has never known. There is a lot of lost time to make up for, but that's okay. He is more than willing to put time and effort into getting to know his family.

Twilight knows he will never see Malon or Time again. But they have left him a wonderful family at Lon Lon Ranch which welcomes him with open arms. And though his heart still aches, he has found his peace with that. Twilight sits on the roof of the stable and looks at the setting sun, thinking of the family he has lost and the family he has gained.

XXX

Warriors regrets a lot of things. He regrets being unable to save many a friend during the war. He regrets how distant he has grown to his mama and sisters during a decade of depression and struggles. He regrets a thousand words and moments he wanted to share with his brothers but never got the chance to.

It's odd. Back during the war, he visited many of their homes and met their friends. He didn't know most of his brothers back then and didn't think twice about visiting the unfamiliar eras. But now, as desperate longing swells in his chest, he finds himself confined to his own era. No swirling purple-black portals show up to whisk him away to another time. No familiar blond or brown or pink heads bob into sight from behind a tree, a joke and a friendly smile ready on their lips. No one is there to release a frog onto his pillow or ruffle his hair while he yells indignantly. There is only Warriors and his grief. His heart has been ripped to shreds, and though he is supposedly the field medic, he cannot find it in himself to stitch it back together. To heal feels like betraying everything his brothers mean to him.

So Warriors clings to his memories. He carefully preserves Mask's and Tune's drawings between sheets of glass and hangs them on his walls. He scours the castle archives for information about his predecessors and when he finds little to none, he takes it upon himself to fill the gaps in Hyrule's history. He documents everything he can remember about the others and their adventures. He keeps the more private details of their lives to himself, scratching stories of Hyrule's kindness and Four's levelheadedness onto paper with a crooked quill during the long hours of night. He tries his hand at drawing, and he finds that he rather likes the version of Time which stares back at him from the paper, though he didn't quite manage to capture the mischievous glint of his eye. Still, the drawings are better than nothing, and he doesn't give up before he has all eight of his brothers committed to paper. There are only few things Warriors truly fears, and one of them is forgetting even the tiniest detail about the brothers he has lost.

XXX

Wild leans back against his arms and looks at the kingdom spreading out beneath him. There is no reason for him to visit The Great Plateau anymore, but he likes being there. It is the first home he can truly remember.

There is something magical about the world far beneath him. There was a time when Wild looked at it and only saw his own shortcomings, the ruins covering the landscape like his scars cover his skin. But the wilderness is thriving down there, horses and deer and goats running rampant among lush grass. There is a beauty to it, one which Wild understands better than most.

Besides, Wild has won a newfound interest in old ruins. When he and Zelda aren't busy rebuilding the kingdom, they explore forgotten mysteries and solve ancient puzzles. 

Sometimes they are lucky enough to find an old relic from his brothers' eras. An old stone carving depicting a great battle. A sword. The ruins of Lon Lon Ranch. 

It is crazy to think that these things have survived for so long, just waiting to be rediscovered by Wild's curious eyes. But that is the nature of his brothers, he supposes. Each of them changed the world forever, like ripples spreading across calm water. A seed lying dormant in the ground only to suddenly sprout come spring.

Everyone leaves something behind, Wild has learned. And while he may never see his brothers again, there is a comfort in knowing that the echo of their existence has carried on through thousands of years. His brothers may be gone, but their memories are everywhere. And, Wild thinks as he stares into the endless blue sky, maybe that's enough.

[raycatz]

some more LU things that throw me for a loop,,

An artist I follow, wilimia, started a LU dnd AU, and then mentioned wanting to make it it's own thing. Shortly after, they received an ask,

"I'd be down for un lu-ing the dnd boys cause I got lu blocked ad hate how it affects most links meet aus, so yeah. If you do that I'd reach non lu audience. Most loz fandom doesn't follow lu blogs"

and idk, I get it, but it's also hard to read. So much of Wilimia's art is LU. It seems like something they found, and still do, find joy in creating for--and for years, too--longer than I've been in the fandom. "Most loz fandom doesn't follow lu blogs." Most loz fandom wouldn't have any interest in the majority of the art Wilimia's shared? Anon would prefer it to be non-lu? It reads to me a little like putting down or dismissing the art just because it's LU. Wilimia's art is amazing. I admire it so much. Their ideas are wonderful, too. And like many other pieces of LU fanart, there's a lot of exploration of comparing and contrasting the games, or analyzing the games, borrowing the LU cast, without explicit connection to the events of the comic itself. So much incredible creativity missed, because it is LU. LU's not for everyone. To each their own, I guess.

But I feel like so much interesting insight into the games is lost if LU fanwork is disregarded simply for being LU.

I also struggle with feeling like I have to choose an audience. I have ideas for pre-LU comics that would tell stories of fun moments from the games, during an adventure--but I want to use the LU heroes because I care more for those interpretations of Link. I'm blending my own game experience and opinion of that Link with what's been provided by the fandom.

I think the stories are fun and worth sharing! However, what tag do I use? It's the Linked Universe design and character, but it's also me, but it's also not Linksmeet or the LU adventure, really. It's LU, it's not LU, it's gen loz, it's both. And yet you'd get scolded for posting LU in the gen loz tags. I feel as though I must choose a side.

For example: there's a moment in OoS where a woman asks you to help her in exchange for a shovel. I got the shovel and then immediately dug up the entire map chunk surrounding her house. It would make for a good comic! But do I make it LU inspired or gen loz? I'd probably use a slightly more generic design for Link (Legend) anyways because he would be younger. Honestly, I could probably get away with barely changing the design at all, tag it as gen loz, and be praised for it.

There's a huge double standard when it comes to LU and Linksmeets. Both argue that not everyone has played all the games. All the interpretations and designs are unique and, at times, should be read as their own aus without worrying too much about adherence to the game or specific comic canon. Characterization and knowledge varies by writer. At the same time, no one person owns specific design elements or traits. Don't worry too much about being too similar. Let people make what they want. Every new instance adds to the wider understanding of the character and is therefore valuable.

Yet, by the people who dislike LU and its fandom and favor other Linksmeets, in LU fandom it's seen as an excuse, and in Linksmeets and gen loz it's seen as a strength.

The character of my comic could barely be LU Legend, and yet if it is LU even in name only, it is disregarded and unwelcome. The character could draw strong influence from Jojo's designs or LU fandom, and if I change one thing only but claim it as my own, it would be praised and defended.

Analysis and discussion in the LU fandom (especially from around 2020) brought me a better appreciation and understanding of the heroes and game similarities then any other kind of online fan created material had.

So for my mini comic- and going off of the anon's ask- what do I do?

I want my work to be seen. I feel like it is valuable to be seen by anyone who enjoys the games. I want to inspire people who see the comic to think more about the games and to create. I don't particularly care through what lense they connect with my gen loz / nebulously LU work--if they apply the situation to their own game experience, gen loz, or to any Linksmeet--if my work has connected with someone- has broadened someone's understanding of a game or character- then my goal has been met. Obviously use the correct tags and credit where credit it due, but if I am making pre-adventure or gen loz stuff, then I want to inspire. Write fic! Add the headcanon to your own! Just like- if you make something based off an idea of mine, include me! We are all building off of each other's stories. It is all inspiration. It's all the same soup.

There is no Linksmeet element. And yet, in my heart, I know the character will become some personal variation of LU Legend, influenced by a variety of fanwork, because that's the interpretation I favor.

If it's tagged gen loz it reaches the broader loz and Linksmeets audiences. If it's tagged LU then it stays within the sub fandom I know and care for. The thing is--it's a pre-adventure story, so it's not solidly one or the other. I don't want to tag it gen loz and have LU fans feel they aren't allowed to think of it as LU Legend. I don't want to tag it as LU and have it be missed by so many people, or have gen loz / linksmeet fans feel they aren't allowed to think to think of it as their own characters either. However, also, why should I be creating for an audience who would disregard so much of my and other's works?

Mina of Mina's Linkverse's recent posts have thrown me for a loop again. She's shared a headcanon post about Twilight Princess Link that delves into how Link, given his background in Ordon, might feel about turning into a wolf. What struggles, but also acceptance and joy, can be found in it. It's beautiful. I'd love to add it as another perspective into my understanding of TP Link--both solely within the game context and also more broadly across a variety of Linksmeets. It's one more way to further appreciate things I already enjoy. However, Mina opened the post with "Dont tag as L/U". Okay, don't tag, but am I allowed to borrow this and apply it to LU Twilight? I relate to it most strongly through that lense. It's a general loz post, and LU is loz. What if I were to apply it to Mina's Fangs, or Em's Wolf, or Frulle's Twilight? If I were to write a LU fic or draw a comic and tagged Mina as inspiration would she take offense? Would it be less of an offense if it was anything but?

Am I as a LU fan allowed to take inspiration from this and put it into LU fanwork? What about LU fanwork that goes more strongly into exploring these themes or situations from the games instead of the comic itself?

It just feels kind of feels like a whole perspective or group is being excluded. I feel like I am being excluded and that I am unwelcome. But, maybe that's just me being an entitled LU fan who thinks everything belongs to them and needs to learn to stay in their lane.

I've considered making multiple versions of the same comic. One that uses the LU design and tag, and one that does not, so that I'm able to reach and be appreciated by both audiences. But, I don't want to have to choose. There would be no difference in the comic but character design and name. And yet, that's all the means necessary to be completely disregarded.

[bananasfosterparent]

I saw some of the Reddit drama regarding the Astarion subreddits (the spawn sub vs. OF) and it's really saying a lot how most Spawn fans care more about AA/AA fans and being free to bash him however they see fit on the main sub, but allegedly the evil moderators are censoring their opinions and are not allowing AA criticism so they are transforming the UA sub into an anti AA one. It's amazing how they don't realize their criticism actually consists in telling AA fans they are abuse apologists who spread misinformation on purpose (the bride theory) and media illiterate lmao. Yeah, I wonder why that's not allowed on the main sub. Perhaps they should reflect on the state of their sub which can be resumed to "I like UA because fuck AA and AA fans".

Heh... funny I got a message about this when I did, because I was quietly observing the drama when it happened. Well, sort of drama. Really, just the usual cliched "anti-AA person must save the igorant AA fans from their own selves via condescending and patronizing vagueposting" situation.

For context... An anti-AA person made posts to a few Astarion and BG3 subs, challenging the validity of the bride theory with zero context or reason, which unsurprisingly fostered negativity and arguments. They had other negative comments on semi-related posts which didn't make their case better. Then they argued with the OF mods about their arguing with other users and was banned after reporting others out of spite.

But looks like the person tried to run to the spawn sub to get validation for arguing with the mods, but I don't think it went very well lol

From what I could observe, they got a lot of downvotes and even comments directly calling them (and their aggression) out. People admitted they joined to gush over Spawn and their Tavs, not seethe over AA and his fans. It was quite refreshing to see. Even moreso, seeing the mods of the sub create a new rule to not dogpile on the mods of other BG3 subs. So perhaps the situation is getting better.

Still strange that "a place to talk about AA as an abuse narrative" is one of the main focus rules of that sub, buuut I'll take the small victories. Any time people are pointing out the AA fan witch-hunt nonsense as what it is (nonsense), it means there's a positive shift happening.

Unfortunately (especially in creative realms), there will always be argumentive people who just want to argue that their vision and perspective is the only one that matters/exists, and they believe it too. But maybe the direct heat on AA fans will die down or... Die out completely (one can wish 😩).

That said! That whole situation makes me wonder...

A gaggle of anti-AA Redditers were suspended from the site for brigading (organized downvoting) of positive AA posts and comments. I'm wondering if the user who made that rant post is one of them with a fresh account. The timeline kinda match up and they bring up the same exact talking arguing points 🤔

Idk, but for now I'm glad to see normal spawn fans speaking up against the anti-AA nonsense finally. I think it's at the point everyone is just getting sick of it lol

[potionorchard]

I love your character analysises! More food please

Do you have any thoughts on Alastor and the future direction of his character arc ?

Omgosh! Thank you very much, anon! I always feel like I have trouble articulating myself on what I want to say about characters I love, so it means so much!

Alastor, huh? This is quite funny because while I love EVERY single character of Hazbin, if you noticed my blog, then you probably guessed my mental real estate has been devoted to observing every second of the 10 minute collective screen time of the Vees and Lute/Adam.

That said, I love Alastor. My wife and best friends love Alastor and maybe there is something I can add to the conversation here.

In terms of Alastor and his future arc, one of my friends, @misstrashchan (who I regret tagging because she's gonna see my cringe blog again, dammit, don't look but her writing and analysis on fandom things are amazing, go look at her), is the one who pointed out to me the significance of Alastor being a deer.

It's something I didn't often think about but him being a deer speaks to the duality of his character.

You see, Alastor is a POWERHOUSE of an Overlord. He's terrifying, does as he seemingly pleases, cannibalistic, always seems to have a solution on hand against anyone who tries to stand in his way (be it Vox or even LUCIFER HIMSELF). But on the flipside, a deer is also known to be a creature that is often victimized or vulnerable.

And that's what I think S2 may explore with Alastor: his vulnerabilities. His weaknesses. Who controls and possibly victimizes him (or makes him feel like a victim).

Season One did this incredible job of speaking about Alastor's power. About how terrifying Alastor truly is from how everyone reacts to him and his status and from Mimzy's tale of his arrival in Hell. We can, of course, harken back to the rumors Vaggie spoke of in the pilot as well.

That's all well and good, but you know what else Season One of Hazbin showed us?

Just how insecure and vulnerable Alastor may truly be.

When Zestial questions Alastor on his whereabouts for the last seven years and even gets a jab in about him working with Charlie, Alastor quickly and coolly deflects, being like, "No, no, just a temporary sabbatical. What are other people saying about me?" Something that seems to bemuse Zestial as they walk together. He even overinflated himself at the Overlord meeting, stating that Carmilla and the others must be wondering where he's been (only for her to assure him... not really.).

Then let's get to the meat and potatoes. Dad Beat Dad. Episode Five has Lucifer, a source of DEFINITE power and status show up at the hotel and Alastor's first move is to establish himself as the heart of the hotel and why it's going to be successful. Sure, he doesn't like Lucifer, but he's the one swinging first. He moves in quickly to show everyone he can stand toe to toe with the literal King of Hell, to show that he's just as powerful. He is, isn't he? When Mimzy interrupts the song and the situation, he again plays it cool (especially around someone who knew him in his human life) but Husker can quickly spot that Alastor is thrown off. But again, Alastor keeps up appearances, threatens and mistreats Husker (how lovely, haha, it's like all the Overlords are bastards), and reasserts himself as soon as the loan sharks show up to show off his power.

"It's time to remind everyone of why I'm here."

And let's hop to the Finale where he's so (rather easily) defeated by Adam. Adam even breaks the source of his power, his microphone, the object that gives Alastor his voice. And Alastor, defeated, flees. On TV, on all of Vox's cameras. No wonder Alastor is having a breakdown in the final song! Everyone saw him, supposedly one of the more powerful, mysterious and infallible Overlords, get beaten so thoroughly and flee. It was a good day for the Vees/Vox is what I'm saying.

Okay, I tried to cover everything about Alastor's vulnerable moments. So what does this mean about him and I what I think his future arc is about?

Well, I think S2 will dive more into his backstory, who is truly is and what he wants. Ah yes. What does Alastor want? If the last song is anything to go by, he wants to be the one "who's pulling all the strings". But what does that mean for him? To be in charge and in control of Hell? To kill and slaughter as he pleases? I certainly couldn't say... yet.

But Alastor is scared. He's vulnerable. He's insecure. We can joke all we like about how blatant Vox is about how insecure about power he and the Vees are, but Alastor is just a different side of the same coin. Unlike Vox, however, he's just better at hiding it. I once saw a post about how The Vees are all talk behind flashy things that show off their power while Alastor and his actions prove he's the real deal. But as Husk says, he's on a leash too. He's putting on just as much of a front.

Oh yes. I think S2 of Hazbin Hotel will bring Alastor to new and different lows with himself now that's S1 has established the cracks among his surface. I think we'll see Alastor getting more desperate to reassert and reassure his power to others while also juggling whatever affection he feigns for Charlie (which might not be entirely fake... it seems some true affection may be leaking in).

Let's go back to Vox and the Vees for a second as well. It's no secret that the Vees are slated to the big villains of next season, in particular, Vox (who is noted to be much more manipulative and smart than he appears). And it's clear Alastor and Vox have a deep kind of history together that illuminates their knowledge of each other. After all, Alastor is perceptive and bold to proclaim that Vox wouldn't be anything without his reliance on Valentino and Velvette, something Vox immediately denied. We can joke about Vox having the homoerotic obsession and pining for Alastor while the radio demon clearly never felt the same, but I'd wager that Vox knows Alastor quite well too...after all, what was the final line in Episode Two?

"You'll have to do better than that, *old pal*!"

Vox and Alastor have a defined history and you can bet, we're gonna have major revelations about that and Alastor's first moves down in Hell too. Whether that'll all come out in S2 though? Who's to say? I can't see the future.

Alright, that's about all my thoughts on the larger scope of Alastor's arc and what I think we will see. Here's a few smaller questions/thoughts I have:

-Perhaps Alastor's asexual identity will be brought more into the forefront as he seemed partially unaware of it when Rosie brought it up. Of course, he could simply be confused at her joke. The old timer! XD But I think it would be interesting to explore it. So much of the Ace community adores Alastor, so it's something I wonder about.

-In Episode Two, Valentino says something akin to "Someone who owes us much more than money... the radio demon is there..." with a chuckle. It's a small line, but I wonder what Val believes Alastor owes them. Noticeably both Val and Vox have broken antenna. Clearly, the two have been through something together, and a good bet I have is that Alastor may just be to blame.

-Alastor and Charlie. He muscled his way in to becoming this manipulative influence in Charlie's world, now he's gotta sit with the consequences with his new adopted daughter figure. Haha! I do think there's a lot showing that despite his intentions, Alastor is definitely fond of Charlie. He's using her but he's also reaching out (sometimes literally in the case of offering his mic to her in Ep 7) and giving her a more powerful voice.

- Husker and Niffty. We saw how Husker fell into Alastor's clutches and it's clear Husk despises him for how he's treated and bonds with Angel for his abuse under Val. But we don't know the story about Niffty and how she came to work under Alastor or what their history is. They seem to have a friendlier relationship than Husk does with Alastor, but this could just be because of their similar bloodlust and intensity/whimsy. I wonder if we'll get more of these complicated relationships in S2.

Alrighty, that's everything I can put into the conversations on Alastor and where his character goes from here. Tl;dr: He's powerful, but not infallible, and he's putting on a front, and I think he will get his shit wrecked in S2 quite a bit! I'm so excited! Whoohoooo! More vulnerable Alastor!

[ridiasfangirlings]

The clans hang out in an everybody lives au and the conversation gets to love interests. Some don't want to reveal the names of who they like and instead describes them. MikoRei's description of each other sounds like insults, SaruMi doesn't recognize their descriptions, KuroShiro has Shiro having fun with this, and IzuSeri is the only normal one and they weren't hiding the other person's name.

Someone’s gotta be the adults in this conversation okay XD Imagine Everybody Lives AU and maybe the cast are having like a meeting at Shiro’s dorm just to go over the state of things in the post-Slate world. As they’re talking Neko comes in, having just finished up her classes for the day, and she attaches herself to Shiro as she asks if they’re having ‘girl talk.’ Kukuri was telling her about this, that everyone sits in a big ring and discusses their love lives and other things. Shiro says this isn’t quite the same but he would be happy to discuss his love life, he has a beautiful wife who cooks him delicious meals every day. Neko is intrigued by the food part but curious about the ‘wife’ mention, Kuroh steps out of the kitchen and clears his throat as he menacingly states that he perhaps has interest in someone but that person should learn to be more conscious of the one making his food. Shiro laughs sheepishly like oops upset the wife, Kuroh sighs and says it’s difficult dealing with a useless husband, all while Neko looks between the two of them in confusion.

Munakata suggests they get back to the task at hand but Shiro thinks this is nice, isn’t it good to just discuss personal things and get to know each other better sometimes. He wonders if Munakata has anyone he’s interested in and Munakata states that the only person occupying his thoughts regularly is a certain troublesome barbarian. Mikoto thinks that’s an awfully nasty thing for Munakata to say but he gets it, he’s got a lot on his plate dealing with a stuffed shirt kind of guy who always gives lectures and can’t admit that he’s wrong.

Shiro decides maybe he should change the subject before they start fighting and destroy his dorm, he looks around for a rescue and his eyes rest on Yata. Yata of course gets all red at the mention of romance, coughing and looking nervous as he admits well there is someone, this really amazing guy but he’s kinda hard to deal with and always oblivious about these kinds of things so it’s hard to talk to him. Fushimi clicks his tongue and says of course an idiot like Misaki wouldn’t be able to handle anyone with more depth than a swimming pool and Yata’s like oh yeah well who do you like then. Fushimi snorts and says he doesn’t care about stupid things like romance, but if he did maybe there’s a sunshine idiot with a stupid smile out there that he could handle if that person ever stopped being a moron for one minute. Yata’s all surprised like wait so you do have a crush on someone who is it while Fushimi says that’s none of Yata’s business and doesn’t Yata have a crush on someone else too. Shiro also has to stop them before another fight can happen, even as he mutters under his breath ‘it’s—it’s really obvious for both of you, you know.’

Finally he turns to Awashima and Kusanagi, both of whom are drinking tea and waiting to get back to business talk. Shiro asks about who they like, surely Kusanagi is the type of person that gets a lot of attention. Kusanagi slowly looks up from his cup and then laughs a little as he admits that he and Awashima are already dating. Shiro’s actually caught off guard because hey someone said it right out, he tries to ask Awashima and she just calmly says ‘yes, we’re dating.’ There’s a long silence as everyone collectively realizes that mature adults are really something huh. 

[ilovedthestars]

I wasn't kidding when I said I spent an hour just trying to sketch out the pose for this drawing! Sometimes you just gotta go through like 8 sketch layers to figure out what you're doing.

I also ended up looking at two references--this one from The Pose Archive, which I traced the legs from after struggling for a while to get proportions that looked right, and a photo of myself that I asked my roommate to take so I could figure out what to do with the arms. The process got significantly faster when I remembered I could use references and started working with them.

I think it's good to show some of the behind-the-scenes of your artwork every now and then, both because process is cool and because it removes some of the sheen of "whoa, i could never make that." I know I get discouraged at times by artists who "make it look easy," when really I can't see all the time and hard work that went into making something. I don't want to create that feeling for anyone else!

So, here's a glimpse into how much I struggled to get the pose right, and below is the timelapse where you can see how much I fiddled with the colors until I had something I was happy with. It was probably at least two hours of "i am spending way too much time on this" and "why does this still not look right" before I got to a point where I started thinking, "wow, this looks good." But I got there eventually, and I'm really happy I stuck it out!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[parakeetpark]

Uh oh. Essay in readmore time

What's so frustrating is that for almost all of my life I didn't know I had adhd, and only found it out 5ish years ago

During ALL of my studies i was intensely freaked out and even when i got a grip on some of my mental health shit at uni, importantly I was still unaware of the adhd. And only had some professional tell me about their suspicion about it AFTER I could have received any support in my schooling.

And I have been working damn hard over the last half a decade to learn about myself and the way I work, and be kind to myself and open minded, and learnt from many many different people with adhd how they function - especially through advice on here bc much of Google is shit, and learnt what does and doesn't work for my personally.

I slowly unravelled and found myself. To a point where I'm actually functional and content in myself.

So now i find myself in the most intense, stressful period of my life since then. Grieving and finally understanding what people meant when they spoke about grieving a very close loved one. How nothing feels real even.

And I've found myself so extremely wired from having to do a very vast array of tasks all crammed into a short space of time with a close deadline - exactly the same conditions as during my studies.......... where nothing ever helped.

Yet. In the last thirty minutes I've unwound because I instinctively KNEW what to do. I found myself following all the things i taught myself about my adhd, and now I'm like 70% more chill???? Huh?????? Noticed suddenly that I've been using my ADHD self knowledge for the past few weeks and coped remarkably well because of it.

It's shocking because imagine what i could have done if I had ANY help with my adhd EVER in my life from the adults who were supposed to notice in my entire childhood. Like HUHHHHHH, I am shocked. Imagine how I'm here as an adult using 5 years of learning adhd related advice and stuff I learnt through self awareness .... and feeling better.

SHOCKING!!!!

PS - long ass tags that immediately ramble away from my initial post and go into something positive and that made me feel fluffy inside. You've been warned

[heartsgettingwiser62]

I just saw someone choose BRENNER over Mike on a tiktok filter Imma go to bed now I've seen enough

[brionysea]

me when there's still a "mike wheeler is good and strong and brave, actually" moment in my mike stays in hawkins fic but it comes from dustin

[gatheryepens]

JOMP book challenge: April edition

Day 30: Read in April

I finished this book maybe a week or so ago and I really enjoyed it, not the best book I’ve read - I don’t mean this in a bad way. This was a really interesting book, the plot was well thought out and kept me engaged. I thought the characters were well written and realistic which was nice to read and another plus is I like Greek mythology - so definitely a book targeted to something I like. After reading this book, I don’t think I will continue reading the series as I have other stuff I want to read but I might revisit it in the future or if I so happen to get a copy randomly. I would rate it 3.8-4.0/5 and would recommend giving it a read if you like Greek mythology :)

[todayisafridaynight]

every day i thank god for the like. one or two japanese minedai artists who make mine the embodiment of 🥺 while also still making him. mine.