#where's that bit from the terror that's like great. that's just what we need. more ice

[capn-twitchery]

grace is now experiencing ice problems part Three

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Kitsune + Child Reader

Imagine the most vain, deceitful, mischievous kitsune 

Infamous for killing hundreds of humans and even more unfortunate children

An actual evil menace 

He has been doing this for a good two centuries 

Already having earned his two tails 

Unfortunately, the wisdom of older age doesn’t seem to disparage him from terrorizing the kingdom’s outer edges

Almost omniscient there's no telling where he is or if he’s in disguise or if he’s been building fake relationships with others to lure them in

It’s scary but not enough to scare off children completely

Which leads to you

A nice life in nobility means you’re sheltered or at least given a nicer tale than most kids

But your family wasn’t without humble beginnings 

So the only real time you do find yourself playing in the great outdoors is then

“Hello, little one!”

He doesn’t bother to hide his fox ears or his flicking tails 

He finds children are easily interested in them

Looking up from the sticks you were playing with, you offer him a smile

He smirks to himself this is going to be too easy

After introducing himself with another fake name he moves along

“Come follow me into the forest, deeper inside we can play house together there!”

“Hmm no.”

“Yay–wait. Did you say ‘no’?”

“Yeah.”

Not entirely...different but different enough

He knows some kids treat their parent’s words as law

so this will take a little more convincing

“Actually I just don’t want to play house right now.”

This is fine

Most children need a little peer pressure to do what he wants

“Fine then. Guess we won’t be able to play together, after all.”

“Okay!”

What?! 

He watches as you skip further away from his direction flapping the sticks

How irritating 

You didn’t do a single thing he wanted you to

He excuses himself to blow off some steam aka drowning some fellow in the river

He tells himself to shake it off 

he still is the best at tricking kids

He proves this by devouring the soul of some other kid with all the same tricks that didn’t work on you

But even with a full stomach, he’s bothered

How dare you?

How could you?

He finds you again maybe not at your vacation home

This time he’s a bit more direct letting his mask slip a little 

“Come with me. Please? I’m so so scared!”

“Then I’ll just get my dad. If you’re so scared.”

“NO! I mean why won’t you? You seem so brave,”

“I don’t want to go in there. I’m wearing my garden shoes. I don’t want these ones ruined too.”

He gets so frustrated 

Going to his lavish shrine where lesser spirits serve him and other mischievous yokai often come to party to complain

“I can’t believe this child is making this so difficult! Sometimes I have such a hard time not just eating them out of spite!”

“Right? But it’s the whole chase that makes it fun!” an especially powerful Chochin raves

“True that and it's more delicious!” a Kappa friend of his toasts 

It isn’t until he listens to a Yuki Ona who really makes him think

“Children bring a warmth like none other. Caring for one is an adventure.”

He remembers that when he starts to watch you again

Finally noticing the quirks that make you the way you are

What foods you like

How you like to be put to bed

It all starts to make sense to him but he still stays

He watches

And he waits

For what he doesn’t know 

He just waits

Sometimes he’ll step away to feed on an adult he comes across or an especially bratty child

Comparing them to you as he picks his teeth

He only really notices when there's a break in your routine

Part 2: Here

[peachesofteal]

Winter driving, or the ability to drive in hazardous conditions, is a major thing where I live.

People often overestimate their abilities or just lack the skills, proper equipment, and wreck… usually by sliding off the road.

Anyway, this makes me think about you, reader, driving a mountain pass in the dead of winter. The kind of winter where the ice is like glass on the trees, where the windshield of your car makes you feel like you’re in the millennium falcon during a hyperspace jump, where the air is so cold it hurts your chest. During the day it might be nice, the sun could be out, the wind could be warmer, but at night… everything is treacherous.

And maybe you’re not an experienced driver, in the snow. Maybe you don’t have great tires. Maybe you’re driving just a bit too fast, and before you can correct it, you’re spinning out of control, wrecking into a grove of thick trees. The last thing you can feel is the trickle of blood, dripping down your face, and the last thing you see… are the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

When you wake, it’s in a bed. Your head is killing you and your shoulder, upper arm are screaming in agony. But you’re warm, and bundled under a heap of quilts, hot water bottle under blankets by your feet.

What happened? You try to sit up, but can’t, squinting in the light of the morning, and when you try again, putting more effort into curling your spine forward, it hurts so badly that you yelp.

That’s when you see him. A man steps out of the corner of the room, from the edge of your peripheral… and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye.” He coos, coming closer and you get a better look at him, handsome, sweet face with an overgrown mohawk and brilliant blue eyes. “Ye had a terrible accident.” He says, ceramic mug from his hand clinking down onto the table next to you. “Pure luck we found ye when we did. Ye might’ve died out there, hen.”

“I-“

“Here. Drink this.” He pours something from a kettle into the mug, lifting it your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even lift your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes at the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” He murmurs, re tucking the misplaced blankets around your shoulder. You’re feeling woozy all of the sudden, maybe a little sick, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, tallest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” The bigger one says to the mohawk one, and he grimaces, trailing fingertips along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.”

“It’s been four days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Four days? Your brain latches onto the time. Since when?

“Ah know.” He slumps. “Tomorrow?” He sounds hopeful, and the brown eyed man nods.

You’re starting to fade, listening to them talk, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that confuses you until you’re losing the battle to sleep, not with it enough to hear the click of the padlock.

[lavender-storm]

You are here now

summary | Theo breaks down and confesses why he's been so distant lately.

pairing | Theo Nott x fem!reader, she/her pronouns

warning | mentions of abuse, su1c1de, sad Theo, probably grammar mistakes

word count | ~2k

a/n: English isn't my first language, so if you found grammar mistakes, no you didn't. I also haven't written anything in a while, so i hope this isn't too bad. Let me know what you think! Xx

His legs are weak, and he can barely breathe when he finally sees her walking towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Y/N," his voice booms off the walls, scaring everyone around them. She stops but doesn't turn around, not needing to see who it is. She could recognise that voice anywhere. "Can we talk?" he says, a bit more quietly now. But she doesn't move, unsure what to do as Theo approaches her slowly. "Please?"

She takes a deep breath and simply starts walking towards a more secluded area. Theodore is breathless, his face is flushed and his whole body trembles. He's thinking of what to say, how to put his feelings into words as they sit down on the stairs, far away from curious eyes. Neither of them speak as he tries to slow down his vigorous heart. But words don't come easy to him as anxiety takes over his body.

The silence between them is too loud.

"How you been?"

"Good," Y/N answers, avoiding his gaze."You?"

"Eh. Could be better."

Another long silence, as Theo tries to collect himself.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" she asks, voice stern and cold. How did they end up like this? She used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. He misses it. Every day and night, it's all he can think about. How she laughed at his jokes, how she found comfort in his arms. How it all turned around as a fight followed a fight, with yelling and tears. The last time they talked, Y/N told him how disappointed she was, that he became one of those Slytherins. His heart shattered as soon as the words left her lips. He understood why of course. But it was him against his father, and he needed to change. It was for the better.

He should have said something a long long time ago. He shouldn't have waited. But he's scared, and his life is a mess and he just wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He's breaking under the weight, he's all alone and he can't find a way out.

"No, no. I, uhm," Theo's nervous, and Y/N can tell. It's rare he's like this and a heavy weight settles in her chest. He's usually collected, and outspoken, he never had any trouble talking. She wants to comfort him and let him know he can talk about anything, so she hesitantly lays a hand on his forearm. Even after all those arguments and crying and not talking, she cares. Of course, she cares. She is full of love.

Theo takes a shaky breath and tears collect in his eyes. He can't hold it back no matter how much he tries, because he feels so overwhelmed by her. He doesn't even know where to start.

Should he talk about his father? Should he tell her how he treats him? And that he never meant to become like this, but it was inevitable.

He needed her then, and he needs her now, but he fucked up by pushing her and everybody away, and he's scared he can't make it right. Y/N quietly calls his name as she caresses his arm, and a loud sob leaves Theo's lips. Y/N's heart rate picks up, the worry she felt before turned into terror as Theo's body trembles with every sob as she cradles him into her arms, holding his head to her shoulders while raking her fingers through his hair. Her heart breaks for him as he clings to her like his life depends on her.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never meant to do-, I di-didn't know - I'm just s-scared, so fucking scared. I hate him so much and then I did this to you. I miss y-you so bad, I can't even fucking breathe."

"Theo calm down, I can't understand you. Shh, it's okay just take a deep breath with me okay? Yeah, like that, great. You're doing great. One more," she says as she holds his face in her hands. Theo's chest tightens at her kindness. All those things he fucked up. He's a horrible son, a horrible friend, a horrible person. And yet here she is, wiping his tears with such a loving look in her eyes, his soul aches - he doesn't deserve her. "Now tell me again, okay? Slowly. I'm here, I'm listening."

"I'm sorry. I know you hate me, but I truly am sorry."

"I don't hate you, Theo-"

"Yeah, sure, than you are mad at me, whatever same thing."

"Theo-"

"I'm sorry okay? For everything. I didn't tell you the-, "he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, tears still streaming down his face."I didn't tell you the truth. I lied because I didn't want you to know. But I needed you. I needed you so bad. So I kept it a secret because I was scared. What if you agree with him? What if you see me the way he sees me? So I just avoided you. I know it's stupid, but I was so goddamn terrified."

"Who is he, Theo? What are you talking about?"

"Dad," he whispers and hangs his head, refusing to see her reaction.

"What is he saying, Theo?"

"It's all my fault," he murmurs. Y/N's brows are furrowed in confusion, what is he talking about? What is his fault?

"No, Theo, no. I'm sure that's not true but what is-"

"But it is, Y/N! He is right. My mother always had to take care of me and my problems, that's why she- and now he hates me! I'm a burden and I made their lives miserable."

"That is not true Theodore, listen to me. Don't think that. And I'm sure they could never hate you. You probably misunderstood, I know your parents love you-"

"You don't hit someone you love! I would never hit you! Never. Not even Blaise or, or Draco, or the others, never. " Y/N's whole body freezes, her mind's rummaging through her memories. Oh Merlin. How could she miss this? How could she not realize that…

Y/N is angry. Angry that Theo didn't say anything until now. Angry that she couldn't see the obvious. He showed up with a new bruise every few weeks, and rumors of him initiating fights for fun, spread like fire. But no one ever knew who he fought. It always remained a mystery. Because all of it was a lie, and deep down Y/N knew, but that was easier to believe than this. He needed her and she ignored him. The only person she could ever open up to needed her the most, and she just left him.

"Theo, all this time we thought you were fighting other students, you-"

"He says it's the least I deserve. She was always working and always stressed because of me. They had to sacrifice so much. It's all my fault she couldn't take it. And now all of this is on Dad. It's my fault, I did this. I killed her."

It's an unwritten rule in the Nott family, that nobody talks about the death of Theo's mom. As far as others are concerned, she ran away. And so that's what Y/N thought too.

"She killed herself because of me. And he makes sure I'm aware of that. And I'm so scared that he's right."

"He is not right, Theo, look at me. He's not right. He's full of shit. I've never met your mother, but I know, he raised the kindest, smartest, most amazing boy ever. I know she must have been so proud to call you his son." Theo cries louder, his fingers hold onto her tightly. "I'm proud of you Theo. You don't deserve any of this."

Guilt claws at her chest as she takes him in. His eyes are red and puffy now, but a bruise is still visible under his left eye and a deep cut, already healed, splits his eyebrows. His skin is pale and cold, and he's so thin that his uniform hangs on his body like it's three sizes too big.

Months ago, it fit him perfectly.

She was so consumed by her anger and jealousy that Theo chose his new friends over her, that she couldn't even look at him. And she curses herself for being so oblivious and idiotic, because if she looked at him, only just a second longer, she would have seen the truth. Now, sitting on the stairs with only a little light, she can truly see him. And the Theodore that's sitting here is not the same Theodore she left that day.

"I can't do this without you, Y/N. I know I'm horrible but please. Please forgive me," he begs, but Y/N shakes her head. If someone should be apologizing it's her, not him.

"No, don't apologize. I'm- oh, Theo, I'm so sorry. I should have realized it. I should have paid attention, I should have been there for you. I'm so sorry I left you alone. I should have never done that," she says, pulling him into her embrace again. Theo hugs her tightly, basking in her warmth. "And you are wrong. You are not horrible. You are the most amazing person I've ever met, Theo. You were always there for me, always looked out for me. I'm so sorry I didn't do the same."

"You're here now,"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you staying?"

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere. Not again. I promise." He believes her. He knows none of this is her fault and if she knew, she would've never left. "I love you Theo, so so much. We'll get through this. Together."

And for the first time in months, Theo feels peace wash over his body like waves, and the noise in his head stops. It's silent and calm in his body and soul. Everything's going to be alright. Y/N is here again. They are okay again. He will be alright again.

[moonstruckme]

hello! I hope you are well and Christmas is treating you nicely so far! I was wondering if I could potentially request something based around reader not knowing how to swim with perhaps poly!marauders or any other character of your liking? Obviously do not feel any inclination to do so if this is unappealing! thank you!

Thanks sweetheart, hope the holiday season is treating you nicely as well!

cw: reader has a mild fear of water/drowning

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Steve’s hands rove your calves, cajoling. “C’mon, you know I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

“I don’t understand why you care so much.” 

“And I don’t understand why you would wear a swimsuit,” he laughs, “if you’re not going to swim.”

You look down at the smallest bikini you own, then raise a brow at him. “Well, it wasn’t for me.”

Steve’s grin turns smug but he doesn’t let up, wrapping his fingers around your ankle and giving a little tug. Not enough to drag you into the pool by a long shot, but enough that you brace your hands on the wet concrete by your butt. 

You give him a warning look. “Steve, quit.” 

He does, going back to soothing his palms up and down your calves. You’ve got your feet in the water, and that’s as far as you’re willing to go. You can watch Steve swim from right here.

“Look, I’m not saying you don’t look great up there. I mean, you do, you really—” he gives you a meaningful look that makes your already sun-warmed skin heat a touch further, seemingly mindless of the swarms of people around you “—really do, but I’m just thinking you’d look even better if you were in here with me, you know?” 

You tap your fingers on the edge of the pool, casting a look towards the shallow end. It’s chock-full of screaming kids and toddlers bobbing around with arm floaties, but it looks infinitely more inviting than where Steve is in front of you, barely touching the ground. 

“Can we go over there?” you ask, jutting your chin in that direction.

He turns to look at that side of the pool reproachfully. “Babe, the shallow end is like two-thirds piss. Just hop in right here. I won’t let you drown, okay?” 

You chew your lip. “That’s a low bar.” 

Steve grins, sensing victory. “I will make sure you flourish, honey, alright? Just trust me.” 

You take in a breath and hold it, nodding hesitantly. “Okay,” you say. 

Steve’s smile widens. His wet hands slide up your legs and grip you under your thighs. You think he’s going to support you as you ease in, but in the next second he’s lifted you off the concrete, spilling you into the water with him. 

You gasp in surprise at the action and the cold and skitter up him, wrapping your legs around his torso and clutching at his shoulders. 

“Steve!” you squeak, heart in your throat. The absence of any surface beneath your feet, the sheer jeopardy of it, makes your blood icy with terror. 

“You’re okay, you’re—jeez, you really are freaked, huh? Think you could retract your claws?” Steve keeps one hand on your back while the other pries at your fingers on his shoulders. After a second, you loosen your grip slightly. Just slightly. “Thanks, babe. No need to cut into me, I wasn’t going to drop you.” 

“I wasn’t expecting it!” you say, voice still pitched high. “You scared me.” 

Steve softens. His hand splays out on your back, keeping you more securely in place. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I just thought it’d be better to get it over with. But you’re okay, see? It’s all good.” 

You shiver a bit from the cold, hugging him tighter. Your boyfriend’s skin is warm despite the frigid water, his shoulders under your hands dry and freckling from the sun. And you can admit, it’s not the hugest downer in the world to be pressed so close to his shirtless abdomen. 

He senses your train of thought, that smarmy grin spreading across his face again. “Glad you could join me in here, honey.” He slides a hand up to your jaw, angling your face for a kiss. You feel a bit better.

“I don’t know what’s so great about in here,” you say. “We could’ve done this just as easily on solid ground.” 

“Mmm, but it’s so much cooler in here. Anyway, we’re teaching you to swim.” 

You raise your eyebrows, a spidery dread starting up in your gut. “We are?” 

“We are,” he confirms happily, palm moving up your spine and back down again once. “It’s an essential life skill, babe. But don’t worry, you’ve got the best teacher on this side of the Mississippi.” 

“Ah, well.” You roll your eyes. “So long as I have him.” 

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Steve ignores your sarcasm completely, adjusting his grip so he’s got a hand on either side of your waist and holding you out slightly in front of him. Your eyes go wide, and you start to dig your nails into his shoulders again, but he goes on casually, “Okay, just kick your feet.” 

You do, tentatively, feeling silly. Your legs feel awkward underneath you, disorganized and somewhat frantic compared to the other swimmers around you with their placid movements. But Steve smiles at you, proud, and you keep going. 

“Good, not bad, babe. Just keep doing that. Feel how I’m not having to hold you up as much anymore?” 

 “Mhm.” You give him a wary look. “You still can’t let go, though.” 

“I won’t,” he promises easily. “Okay, now try to move your arms around a little.”

“How?” 

“Like, uh…” Steve looks around, nodding to a girl treading water a few feet from you. “Like her.” 

You try, moving your arms from side to side with your palms facing down. 

Steve’s smile widens. It’s contagious, and you grin too, feeling like an idiot. “There you go, you’ve got it! The whole point is to just keep pushing the water down, you know?”

“Yeah.” You’re a bit mystified, struck by the odd feeling of the water moving around you. How surprisingly easy it is to control. You look down at your legs, kicking in weighty nothingness. “I think I get what you mean.” 

“Good, good. Okay, I’m gonna let you do it by yourself for a second.” 

“What?” Your head snaps up. “Steve, please.” 

“You’ve got it,” he reassures you, and slips his hands from around your waist. 

You start kicking double-time. Your hands move faster until they’re just splashing, useless. Suddenly, you can’t remember the motions they’re supposed to be making at all. Your chin touches the water, and you lunge for Steve, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“That wasn’t bad,” he says, sounding far cheerier than you feel. Your heart pitters against your rib cage. “You did good, honey. You’re learning quick.”

“Can we take a break?” you ask, tightening your grip on him. “I think I like it here better.” 

Steve’s arm bands securely around your back and he presses his lips firmly to your forehead. “Sure,” he promises. His voice is heavy with a quiet contentedness. “Yeah, we can stay here for a while.”

[penny-anna]

i have other things to do but here we gooooo owl house fic recs:

Autism to Autism Communication by Polyhexian

"I understand sarcasm," Hunter said, sounding offended. He crossed his arms. "You didn't do the voice thing." Darius stared at him. "The what?" Hunter put his arms in the air and gave his hands a sarcastic little wave. "I GuEsS I'LL hAvE tO sToP cOmInG oVeR, tHeN," he said in the most over the top and comical parody of sarcasm that Darius had ever heard in his life.

everything by this author is great & this one is a joy and a delight!!

Extant Species by Polyhexian

She'd been called a monster more times than she could count, but she knew what a real monster looked like.

i'd happily rec a bunch of polyhexian's stuff but this lil vee & hunter fic was a highlight. especially enjoy the part where hunter's advising her on how best to go about murdering him. love that for them both!!

Owlet by Polyhexian

"Eda!" Hunter yelled as he shouldered open the door and Hooty cooed and rambled at him, "I need help with my potions homewooooooaaaat the HELL is that?!" Luz looked up from where she was sitting on the couch and reading what appeared to be a romance novel about werewolves. "What is what?" "That!" he yelled, pointing at the hulking behemoth curled up in the middle of the room in a massive pile of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. "Is that the owl beast?!"

& 1 more!! short n sweet n cute

With Clay and Star Scraps by SiryyGray

Hunter decided to do some research into Grimwalkers. First discovery: Grimwalkers were outlawed in every city under every rule as far back as the history books go. Second discovery: Grimwalkers have no natural means of death. Third discovery: there’s a caveat to that second one.

some absolutely brutal grimwalker content. SPOILERS: hunter can't outlive belos.

Intrusion by rayrock

'He drops something in. It moves and writhes, but it is clearly exhausted. “Eat,” is all he says, voice barely above a whisper. But it is a demand nonetheless, intimidating enough to send shivers down her spine. She hisses in protest once more. He tucks the notepad and pen into his cloak and pulls out a staff. It unfolds and glows a bright red. He does not say anything more. He is nearly always silent when she sees him.' Or: Vee and the Golden Guard’s relationship is complicated, but it is there

some more vee & hunter content for you

just a little bit left by prodigalDaughter

The first time Darius had seen the new Guard unmasked, the fury and betrayal had risen in him like floodwater, bubbling and steaming out of creeks and sewers. Creed had never told him he had a son. —— Hunter has discovered what he is, but he’s not the only one who has to grapple with assumptions made about his origins.

hey remember the other day when i was talking about 'what if darius thought hunter was the previous golden guard's son'! well here u go someone wrote that fic

Wild and Wandering Cries by PorcelanaRota

So his uncle goes flying into the wall directly above him and he is unable to dodge. And his uncle, who is now more palisman curse slime than he is flesh and blood, splatters on the wall, on the ground, on him. Hunter’s been in hundreds of life-or-death situations. He’s felt real and true and visceral fear that sank into his bones and marinated into terror more times than not. Still, nothing has ever left him so shocked and horrified and just flat-out scared that time has actually stopped.

belos splash zone? belos splash zone.

mistakes (the thrilling saga, in high definition) by quynnyah

"This," Amity says, "is not normal human behavior." (Or: Amity and Hunter volunteer to help Camila on a grocery trip. It goes about as well as expected.)

some banging amity & hunter in the human realm stuff for u

Notched by angelcloves

Belos removes the ear tag from his newest Grimwalker.

tiny wee fic giving a backstory for Hunter's notched ear. i rotate this concept in my brain all the time. absolutely twisted.

There is no open window, but the floors still creep by theprincessofdenial

On Tuesday, they eat Chinese. On Wednesday, Camila once again doesn’t have the time to cook, so pizza it is. On Thursday, she wants to make a proper dinner but there’s a hold up at the clinic, Luz knocks over a shelf, Willow has a wardrobe emergency, and then Amity’s cat goes missing. And Hunter beats Gus up so badly the boy ends up bleeding, so there’s also that.

hgnnnh i would rec this entire series if i could (it's 14 fics totally 200k total). its all so chewy i want to get my teeth into it and rrrrrrrrrr. ANYWAY this is my no 1 fav i've been back and re-read it about 7 times. love the Camila Noceda POV; the way it captures the chaos of all 6 kids in the house and makes it feel so real & vivid; the absolutely brutal Hunter characterisation. if ur a Hunter fan go read this right away.

Distance by theprincessofdenial

For the first minute, they all just stand there in silence and watch the airship slowly disappear beyond the horizon. Even though they’re supposed to react quickly, the cold still comes as a shock. It takes some time for the reality to settle in and for them to realize how useless everything they have brought is going to be when their marrow freezes. Hunter hears some of the Scouts inhaling sharply after they approach the ledge and look down. They turn around, unsure where to start, and they shuffle their feet in the snow (terrible decision, really, this way their boots are going to get wet even quicker). Hunter’s the first one to break the silence, and oh, he does it with style. He has been rehearsing that line for a week. “See you at the bottom, suckers!” he exclaims as he pulls out the staff and disappears in a flash of red light. (or: The Obligatory "Leave Everyone at the Top of the Mountain and See Who Makes It Back to the Bottom Alive" Fic. With a splash of Steve)

2nd rec from this series. exactly what it says on tin. *banging pots together* you like whump come get your whump i ADORE what this author does w Hunter. also Steve is there (whump for Steve!!)

A Potter's Field by theprincessofdenial

The view from the staircase is, well, not stunning, that’s definitely not the word. It’s just that “view” is supposed to be accompanied by “stunning,” and Luz can feel her brain coming to a screeching halt and refusing to process what they’re seeing. It's skeletons. Come on, they both knew it was going to be skeletons. The entire Isles know at this point. (Or: despite what the stories would have you believe, in the aftermath, there are things to deal with. Those things include ruined infrastructure, electing new leaders, and prosecuting those responsible for the old regime. And apparently, also Grimwalker mass graves.)

& third and final. unbelievably chewy post-canon fic. lets get into the reconstruction of the isles in full detail. goes hard as hell. will sit in my brain for a long time i think. cannot rec this enough.

and rats all for now!! i got a bunch more stuff in my 'marked for later' so watch this space

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Remember my hivemind/bee-like/mind-control mutant Reader? Yeah, from the Villain AU? Well, what if we have a version of them in X-Men Evolution AU?

Reader Readerson, a lone wolf kind of teen, who wears brown boots, a black top, and golden-amber shorts, is a mutant who only recently discovered their mutation. But it isn't something they like, or feel safe with. Not at all.

They can control people, in a way.

They aren't sure exactly how or why, they just know they have some kind of, of venom, or maybe a pheromone, or something, that if a person absorbs, Reader can hear their thoughts. And the ones infected? They can hear Reader's, too. But when Reader tries to figure it out, or fix it, they find that while the infected retain their personality and memories and know how to breathe and blink, they are influenced by Reader.

Reader never meant to find out, they aren't aren't sure how it happened, it was an accident, they swear! But now their mind is constantly filled with the hum of other thoughts, seeing and hearing things those others feel, having to hear and know in full their anger and terror and panic and hate, and Reader just-

They stop sleeping.

They start wearing gloves.

They stay away from groups, from crowds, from everyone, more than they already did.

They feel scared of themself, they want to cry but can't, they feel like a monster, they don't want to be like this, they don't want to exist-!

They end up transferred to a new school, they're forced to pack up and go to wherever their new home is, and now they have to make themself as unnoticeable and forgettable as possible. They're alone, in this strange new place, left to their own devices, and with no one to turn to. It's excruciating. They're in pain. Their mind hurts almost each waking moment...

But they can't sleep for longer than a few hours, or they might see or hear the others, might have to see their faces and be under their scrutiny and possibly yelled at or blamed or abandoned all over again... And they can't go through it again. They just can't...

They end up catching the eye of Xavier and Mystique, both of whom want their teens to try and find our more about Reader, see if they can figure out the extent of their abilities, and perhaps see if they can get Reader to join them...

This leads to the X-Teens and Brotherhood teens trying to figure out the lonely kid who talks only when spoken to, who looks exhausted, and who wears gloves, sweaters even when it's hot, and stay to their own devices. Jean tries to see into their mind, to see what they're working with- and is pulling back out, shaken up a bit by how loud and scared it is inside Reader's head, full of constant stress and fright and paranoia...

Kitty and Kurt try to appear as possible friends or study buddies, putting on their best face, and inviting Reader to sit with them during fieldtrips. Reader is scared of almost everything and everyone, according to Jean, so they need to be as unintimidating as possible. Evan gets them to help tutor him and offers to help them with picking an extracurricular (Oh look, basketball, he's sure they'd be great at that! And he plays it too! What are the odds!) Rogue is sitting by them, offering silent company or recommending some good books, choosing ones with themes of friendship and acceptance. And Scott and Jean are trying to appeal to them, in an older sibling/student kind of way, asking if they are okay, and if they might want to see their Professor for some help, do they need someone to walk them home from school or drive them where tbey need to go?

Wanda is giving them space. She'll simply sit there, read a book or work on homework, but otherwise be a presence around Reader, so they'll get used to it. Pietro is trying to come off as charming, asking questions a mile a minute, offering g that he and his friends are the best, so wouldn't Reader like to try hanging with them? Todd takes art class with them, and compliments their clay sculptures and paintings, hoping to bind through creativity. Fred is trying trying help them during P.E., mainly by making sure they don't get hurt during dogeball (so do all the other mutants kids). And Lance tries to come off as trustworthy, pointing out they're both kinda loners, they both happen to have powers, and while he has a team, Reader doesn't, so why not join their side, hm?

Reader feels overwhelmed, but manages to hold it all in- until the adults enter, and now Reader is spiraling as their powers are about to be found out in their fullest form, and they can't stand stand be yelled at, or cast out, or seen as evil.

This ends up with the discovery going in a way Reader didn't expect... And with the growing platonic yanderes more worried than ever about this newest mutant...

@sugar-soda @vivid-bun @danni1323 @thewickedweiner @opossumdaydreamz @weebwholovesuchihasasuke @ainsellshadewalker

[thegreatwicked]

Writing Resources Part 2

My first list was so long I decided that I reached the character limit! So we have a part two! I'm going to try and keep them a bit more organized too! Hope these help you all in your writing endeavors and if you happen to use any of them try to give the original source some love!

Also, apologies if I've tagged you more than once and it's annoying! If I reference your material more than twice I will just link your whole Tumblr. I really do want to make sure everyone gets their credit and spotlight!

General Information and Research:

The Fantasy Guide to Royal and Noble Marriages or anything by @inky-duchess Her blog is extensive and is a wealth of information regarding things like royalty/nobility/Period social politics and is a fantastic resource, go check her out! Ink I do appologize I might be tagging you more than once!

@type1diabetesinfandom This blog is an amazing resource if you are interested in writing about characters with any form of diabetes or similar health issues. It was ana amzing find when I was writing my character Belladonna Black from Shadows of Deception who is hypoglycemic. What an amazing source!

How to Cook in a Medieval Setting: by @alpaca-clouds Food is the best way to know a culture and this particular blog post is a trove of information for your fictional foodie set anywhere in this spectrum of time or a great find for a fictional setting! This post obviously gets a chefs kiss!

The Symbolism of Flowers by @novlr Yeah! Leopold knew what he was talkign about, every flower has a meaning and it is entirely possible to send some a bouquette that translates to 'Fuck You' btw it consists of geraniums (stupidity), foxglove (insincerity), meadowsweet (uselessness), yellow carnations (you have disappointed me), and orange lilies (hatred). it would be quite striking! and full of loathing. THE MORE YOU KNOW. This blog is also a fantastic source for writers.

Writing About Body Pain by @slayingfiction I just came across this gem of a blog and if you're one who likes to make your characters sufffer than look no further, also, how ya doing? You ok? Just checking. This blog is also a fantastic writing resource.

How to Accurately Describe Pain in Writing by @hayatheauthor kinda piggybacking off the previous source but nevertheless lets make sure we make these characters suffer realistically? I'm ok too, if you're wondering. This is another great blog that focuses on the aspect of being a writer.

How to Use Canva to Make Mood Boards by @saradika I did not know much about mood baords but I'm telling you they are a gaem changer! They bring a life to your story in a way that is just so stunning and saradika has been so lovely as to make this helpful guide! She's also a very talented writer and is quite the Star Wars Fan! GO check out her stories!

Researching as a Writer by @so-many-ocs Research is a tricky topid to delve into and sometime sit hard to know where to start, this blogger has been so kinda as to make a bit of a roadmap to help you narrow down what you need to research and how. Wonderful blog! Very helpful!

Resources for Writing Deaf, Mute, or Blind Characters by @thecaffeinebookwarrior THIS! This right here is a gem and the only reason I don't write these types fo characters is because I've never known how to do so respectfuly and realistically! Not a problem anymore! Also a wonderful artist!

How to Write and Research a Mental Illness another gem from @hayatheauthor again if you're going to wrote a character with a mental illness lets make sure we get it right!

@namesforwriters It's little but a wonderful source of unique names for your story! Including mythology and music themed names!

Nightmare Disorder vs Night Terrors by @redd956 Some great clarification from a blogger who is diagnosed! So happy I found this as I was wondering about the distinction myself for a little while!

Types of Gemstones by @blueboxbeagle and brought to my attention by @keffirinne

A General Cane Guide for Writers and Artists by @deoidesignand brought to my attention but @cripplecharacters I was so excited to find this fantastic little gem recently and I look forward to using it! I'm keeping an eye out for more material in portraying characters with disabilities and disorders maybe it'll get it's own post!

@cripplecharacters linking this amazing blogger if you are wanting to expand your characters and write them with disabilities or diaper fees, this is a wonderful source of how to do it and stay respectful!!

@writingwithcolor use that painters pallet and write diverse characters and when you’re not sure what or how to write something check this blog out! Such a wonderful source for all questions concerning ethnicity, race and diversity!

@writinglgbtq I was looking for this blog!!! Your source for all things concerning writing the LGBTQ community respectfully and believably! So happy to ah e found this!!

@macgyvermedical I have been looking for a blog like this for some time and I'm so happy to add it to my writing resources list as tehre are far too many great and helpful posts to pick just one. Check out this amazing blogger who offers medical beta reads and asks for fanficiton!

Make it Pretty! My own contribution to help make writing a bit prettier! ꧁☽✶☾✶☽꧂ Enjoy!

Adding Page Breaks & Art to Your Stories Another of my own contributions for adding in nice clean page breaks to your stories as well as how to upload art to AO3, FFN and Wattled.

More will be added to this post as I find it and if you find anything that fits the general research on broad topics or specifics please let me know so I can continue this collective writing resource! And make sure to give some of these wonderful writers and bloggers some love!

[vanillavengeance]

mystic malfunction is on my mind again and i've been thinking about how funny it'd be if mikey hijacked a training session and taught everyone Lou Jitsu style (à la fish and ladders). ik Splinter's already been trying to make it a little more interesting for Mikey, but maybe it's the day after a particularly sour mission and he's like "yknow what? okay let's do it Orange's way today, just for a bit of a change of pace. lighten the mood a bit." the 2012 boys learn a very structured style, which is def useful (like when Mikey was fighting Shredder), but the 2018 boys are way more used to improvising and using their surroundings in non-traditional ways - particularly Mikey. i think it'd be really interesting to see how the 2012 boys would fare trying to fight in that style, and if they'd use it in future! anyway. the image of Mikey chasing them all around with an improvised household appliance weapon is EXTREMELY amusing to me, along with seeing Splinter's reaction when Mikey informs him that this was how they first learned how to properly fight. I think he'd go through all the stages of grief, but it'd definitely help him understand Mikey's lack of interest in regular training. anyway back to rotating your fic around in my mind like a microwave <3

Oh, I love this idea. Here, have an unedited ficlet I wrote in my notes app quick lol.

==========

Mikey vibrated with excitement, Splinter amused beside him while the others cautiously filtered into the dojo.

Splinter had seen how he’d struggled during regular training and after a small talk about why that might be, he’d allowed Mikey to run his own session to see exactly how the teaching styles differed. Both for Splinters own curiosity and to provide a different, more improvised kind of training so the others didn’t fall too much of a routine.

“So, how many different death traps are in here?” Raphael asks. Michelangelo is attempting to hide behind him but Raphael keeps pushing him away. “And where is one of them so Mike can be distracted by something else—“

“No death traps!” Mikey confirms. The others still look around cautiously as they come to stand in front of him. “I’m gonna show you the kind of training I got from Dad back home!”

The turtles share a disbelieving look, glancing towards Splinter who merely nods in confirmation.

“That’s…great,” Leonardo says slowly. “I suppose we could spice things up a bit.”

“You betcha!” Mikey exclaims. The turtles share one last confirming glance with Splinter before falling into their training stances and pulling out their weapons.

Mikey’s grin grows. “Nuh uh, nope,” he says, rolling onto his heels and thoroughly enjoying their confusion. “Won’t need those.”

Splinter turns to him in curiosity while the other look on in slight terror. Regardless, they lower their weapons to the ground in front of them and wait for Mikey to continue.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

—————

“That’s not how you use a toaster!” Donatello screeches, lunging away from the flying toaster Michelangelo threw by the cord like a flail.

“That’s exactly how you use it!” Mikey encourages from the sidelines. His alternate sends him a bright thumbs up before his head is promptly smacked to the ground by the lamp Raphael wields.

“How on Earth are you still alive if this is how your Master Splinter trained you!?” Leonardo exclaims, hurriedly blocking Raphael’s next lamp strike with his couch cushion. “This isn’t what training is supposed to be!”

“Sure it is! You just have to get creative! I don’t see Michelangelo complaining!” His alternate groans from the floor and he immediately backtracks. “Not about the training anyway!”

The chaos quickly resumed with Raphael going on a rampage with his lamp and the others scrambling out of the way with their other improvised weapons.

Mikey beams up a smile to Splinter who pinches his brow with eyes shut tight, taking deep breaths.

“I…understand your frustration with my teaching methods, now,” Splinter grumbles, watching with tired eyes as Raphael gets a whack to the face from Leonardo’s cushion.

Mikey launches to his feet, not being able to help himself anymore. Without any warning he grabs the closets of the many household items he gathered before starting. His hands adjust around the pens he grabbed, fashioning them into claws between his fingers, before jumping into the fray and straight towards a panicked Donatello.

They’re nowhere near prepared for all the razz-ma-tazz he’s about to unleash.

==========

Hehehe ❤️

[varlaisvea]

You said it was OK to send you asks about eso npcs so...

There's an archivist in Summerset, Meredil at the Illumination Academy. He essentially gets possessed by the collective spirit of all the trashy romance novels he reads, but after the spell wears off he's terribly embarrassed of how forward he was with the Vestige.

Would you consider writing something where the Vestige visits him again afterwards? :3

Ah, thank you for the request! I had to go back and re-play that quest, so thank you for that too :)

I should warn you: unless requested otherwise, I think it's fun to write the Vestige as The Vestige, ie the race-less, genderless PC, the person with no memories who asks questions like what does a high king do, exactly? And for the record I don't mind writing ~spicy things, but I usually keep anon asks on the lighter side unless requested otherwise.

So, this is cheesy enough for [i am shot to prevent sheogorath jokes]. I HIGHLY doubt this is what you had in mind, but... enjoy?

Thank you so much for the request, anon! Anyone reading this should feel free to submit more, if the spirit moves you.

(2k words, PG-rated, allusions to sex)

----------

We check up on all the students and faculty as we’re leaving the Illumination Academy. A lot of them are embarrassed after being transformed into book characters, but Bastian and I had a great time here. For me, it was because I got to mess with people a little bit, which I rarely get to do when I’m Serving The People Of Tamriel. For Bastian, it was because we took the time to stand around and read dozens of musty books. I mean, the ones I read were interesting, but he was reading things with titles like The Quarandil Theses and Perspectives on First Era Pastoralist Poetry. I love the guy, but how would I even know if one of those books suddenly possessed him and became his personality, like happened to the students today? At least I learned a lot from everything I read.

I get distracted by the fish pond near the gate, and soon someone appears next to me—Meredil, the archivist I spoke to in the school.

“I'm glad I caught you—I really must apologize again for my forward behavior earlier,” he says, laughing a bit nervously. "This is not the first mishap we've had with the Library of Shrieking Terror."

“Oh,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t care at all. Your version of the curse actually seemed kind of fun.”

His laugh gets more nervous. “Well I’d never deny that, though ironically what remains of it gets less fun by the moment... Anyway, look, I realize this is quite awkward, given what I’ve just said about my… current state of affairs, but let that only serve to underscore the fervor of my curiosity.” He swallows uncomfortably, and looks away for a moment. “I must ask you: how is it that your armor is glowing like that?”

I’m not sure what I’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. “You know, I don’t know? I guess I assumed it was enchantments?”

He looks astonished. “You can’t possibly tell me no one has asked you before, in your line of work.”

I shrug. “I don’t really know what my line of work is. Lots of people call me ‘adventurer’—do you not see many adventurers in these parts?”

“Oh, goodness; I am only a hundred fifteen years old, but I have seen a fair number of adventurers in these parts.” His eyes go wide. “Oh, don’t listen to me,” he says playfully. “Since the Queen’s decree, we do see travelers and wayfarers of many sorts, but, well… I can’t say too many of them go into the depths of the archives.” He sighs. “Stars, I need to get out more.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I’ve certainly seen some fancy adventuring gear but that…” He looks at my outfit in admiration. “Well-designed, well-fitting, and glowing! I’ve never seen a glow enchantment quite like that—I spent several long moments trying to calculate how one might go about amplifying an enchantment for such purposes before my curiosity got the better of me, and I hoofed it out here to see if I could find you to ask about it.”

“Ha, I really hadn’t thought about it much,” I say, now keenly aware of how brightly my gear is glowing, even in the late morning sunlight. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better answer.”

“Oh, don’t apologize at all,” he says. “Really, I had to know if it was something simple I hadn’t thought of, and otherwise, I couldn’t miss my chance to talk with someone with access to something like that. I don’t mean to be off-putting, but I imagine you must be a wildly interesting person.”

“Ah, well…” For some reason I’m more honest with this mer than I usually am when people say stuff like that to me. “Actually, I don’t think I’m all that interesting, as a person. When that guy’s bored of you?” I gesture to Bastian, who’s behind me staring up at the sky in abject boredom. He doesn’t even hear me. “That’s dull. At first when I got here, I was trying the same boring tactics to un-curse people as the mer who cursed everyone to begin with, whom everyone only-semi-affectionately described as boring.” I turn around. “Hey B, sorry for taking so long bud, you can take five if y—” Bastian’s gone before I can finish the sentence. “See?”

Meredil huffs. “If you’ve managed to obtain adventuring gear like that, you automatically have at least one interesting story, no? Likely many more than one."

“Oh, yeah. I have a ton of ‘em.”

“Then, I am interested to know how one could live an objectively interesting life and not be an objectively interesting person.”

“Well, I don’t remember most of my life—long story—but I could tell you a few tales about fighting dragons, or rescuing royalty?”

“Wait!” Meredil laughs. “You’re not just some adventurer, are you! You’re the Vestige of Coldharbour!” He grins wide. “Am I right?”

“Lots of adventurers fight dragons and rescue royalty. Right?” You’d think this conversation would get easier.

“Handfuls of people, but yes. But most of them have songs sung about them—you know them when you see them.” He makes a thinking face with his hand to his chin. “You stopped the Planemeld.”

I nod.

He stares at me for a few moments. “I’d assumed that when you won your soul back from Molag Bal, you’d gotten your memories back too… But, your memory begins when you became a hero?”

“Pretty much,” I say, smiling as I do when I’m reminded that strangers know details about my life from bard songs and rumors. Several moments of uncomfortable silence pass.

“So, those dragon-slaying and royalty-rescuing stories are the only ones you’ve got,” he says, meeting my eyes.

“Uh, yeah…” I sit down beside the fish pond. “And now I have a pretty good one about this place.” We share a pleasant laugh. “So… what do you think is interesting? I’ve got vampire lords, risky assassinations, multiple giant crabs… One time the ghost of a pirate turned me into a skeleton for a little while.”

He shakes his head. “I may spend my days in a place that could be mistaken for a mausoleum, cerum, but this tomb has books in it—I’ve read and catalogued all sorts of monster stories and political plots. Of course it is my honor to do so, but that has been much of my exposure to the world.” He sits down next to me. “But a perspective like yours, I don’t think I’d find in a book. Stumbling into an extraordinary life with no memory of an ordinary one. Learning about the world by saving it. Learning about people while constantly seeing them at their worst.” He smiles expectantly.

I just stare at him. “Ah, well…” No one says stuff like that to me. “I’ll be honest, I still don’t know what’s going on a lot of the time.”

“How would you? There are little children older than the length of your memory.”

Why have I never thought of that? “Most people ask about the ancient temples and Daedric demi-planes I’ve seen—or if they’re drunk, they ask how many famous people I’ve slept with.”

“Oh, I hate when I’m asked that question,” Meredil says dryly.

“People ask me about stuff they’ve heard I’ve done. I guess I’ve just always figured that means I’m not very interesting as a person? But honestly, it doesn’t bother me—I don’t have any memories to compare it to. And I can’t really blame people for asking about my adventures instead of asking about me—today was a fairly slow day for me, if that tells you anything.”

Meredil stares at me with a sad sort of look I can’t decipher.

“Um. I actually read a lot of books." Why am I lying to this mer? “Well, I skim some of them. But, uh… they’re a surprising amount of my exposure to the world, too.”

“You’re learning about statecraft and magic at the same time you’re learning, er… how to… socialize, make friends!" Meredil smiles at me, amused. "You’ve had to figure out the plots of Princes while you figure out how to navigate small talk.”

I nod slowly. “I have to ask a lot of stupid questions, but I’m learning.”

Meredil laughs. “Cerum, that is far more interesting than slaying dragons! And you wear armor fit for Auri-El himself!”

“Thank you,” I say, not knowing what else to say. “People don’t usually…” I trail off as I meet his eyes.

“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you," he says excitedly. "If not for that curse, I’d never have hit on the Vestige of Coldharbour, eh? Imagine! Ha! I can’t wait to write Mother. It is an honor to have flirted with you,” he says, bowing his head.

“Ha, I don’t know about that,” I say. “Flirting is one of those things I’ve had to learn along with slaying undead and such. I’m way better at re-killing liches. I mean, sorry, you were great at it, in my opinion—you’ve definitely read the books."

“I’m flattered that you appreciated my technique, ceruval. Those steamy books certainly increased my skill and potency, though; I could feel it. And the confidence they gave me…” He looks at me with a seductive grin. “Oh, imagine if you’d come upon me after I’d had a chance to read a bit more? I might be asking you a thousand fascinated personal questions with far fewer clothes, and from the comfort of a warm feather bed.” He looks away with faux innocence. “That offer is still good, of course.”

People say things like that to me all the time. I usually laugh and change the subject, but I find myself just staring at Meredil, trying to think of something funny to say. Why am I trying to think of something funny?

Meredil notices my lack of response, and hastily clears his throat. “Sorry,” he says, “the curse has been broken, but the downside of my particular variant is that its effects still very much remain, with no magic necessary.” He laughs nervously. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see to the situation.” He doesn’t move. “Uh, but… I can’t quite stand up just yet. You’ll need to walk away first, I’m afraid.”

I don’t move. “I realized something... interesting,” I say, after what feels like a very long pause. “I need to learn more about flirting and, uh, you know, all of that. I remember you saying you know where each and every one of those steamy books is filed. Don’t you?”

He stares at me in utter fear for just a moment, then says, quietly, “It would be my deep pleasure to guide your hand to them, of course. But I am in no state to assume I have taken your full meaning correctly, cerum. Tell me, am I being propositioned by the Vestige of Coldharbour?”

I panic a little—I wanted to read the steamy books; I wasn’t propositioning him. Was I? He was uncommonly kind to me… Was I? Guess I really don’t know anything about flirting. But… come to think of it, I do have several friends who can flirt their way into a bank vault or chieftain’s tent. What would they do? Razum-dar would instantly think of some wordplay that is simultaneously threatening, solicitous, and clever—I try to do that. First I shoot Meredil my best Jakarn eye-twinkle. “Hm, even if you are being propositioned by the Vestige of Coldharbour,” I say, with sultry Naryu nonchalance, “do you really think anyone would believe a story like that?” This marks the first time I have ever propositioned someone using that title, or any of my many titles. Feels slimy. Probably won’t try it again.

Luckily, Meredil is not put off. “Why assume I’m in it for the story?” he says. “Perhaps you’ll be the one telling the tale. Tales, preferably—especially after that curse, what I have to share could fill volumes, Vestige.”

We only get through one book, but it takes the rest of the day and evening. Meredil's feeling much better now, and he says I am welcome to return to Illumination Academy anytime I need more study. And it seems I’ve misjudged my dear friend Bastian Hallix: it turns out, Perspectives on First-Era Pastoralist Poetry is graphically sexually explicit and, in places, lyrically erotic. Interesting.

[destinysbounty]

GASP you have an “The Island” rewrite idea? TELL US EVERYTHING—

The Ninjago comics have some great ideas of other things that could have happened (like a boat race over lightning waters, a motorcycle escape from baby dragons, more on Misako’s pre-special adventures on the Island, etc.) but I’m so curious about your rewrite ideas :D

When we first got the trailer for The Island, I lowkey thought they were gonna take the "Misako goes missing and Lloyd tries to find her" premise and use it to at least briefly touch on their relationship. Which I was...cautiously optimistic for. Lord knows how badly Misako needs an actual character arc.

So that's the core of what I'd do with an Island rewrite. Use that plotline the facilitate a narrative about the past complications of their relationship, as well as Lloyd's fear of being abandoned/left alone.

For a long time, I've had this scene idea in my brain of Misako and Lloyd being lost in a labyrinthine cave full of strange glowing stone, and she explains that the reason she'd been seeking out the island is because of rumors that this very cave had the power to reveal secret information. However, the danger of the cave is that few people are ever able to leave it alive, as it traps most who enter. She reluctantly hoped the cave could tell her where she went wrong, what she did wrong - she did everything she could to prevent the Final Battle, but it happened anyway. She wanted to know if there was anything at all that she could've done to change that, or if her family was doomed from the start. This is also why Wu joined her for this expedition - he wanted those answers too.

As they walk through the cave in search of a way out, Lloyd asks more about her motives: how she knew he was the Green Ninja, why she left Lloyd at Darkleys of all places, and most importantly why she never came back for him even to visit. She explains herself, with the stones and stalagmites of the cave glowing as they reflect memories from her past. And finally, they have a little bit of closure from this conversation. It is then that they learn the cave only lets you leave once you have accepted the truth of the information you sought, hence why so few people ever escape - most people cant reconcile the harsh truths this cave confronts them with. Misako accepts that there was nothing she could have done to prevent destiny and Lloyd works through some of his abandonment issues, prompting the cave to set them free so they can go join the rest of their friends in the big climactic battle.

Idk. I may also include a scene like that in another fic or something. We'll see, I guess.

Also, I'd probably change the uh. Troublingly stereotypical human sacrifice depictions for the Keepers. And also just like, give Mamatus more of an actual character and personality. Maybe the islanders arent the villains but allies! Perhaps the rewrite focuses more so on Ronin as an antagonist - while also providing more in-character rationalization for his actions. Because while I do like the idea of Ronin as a villain, it feels a bit odd to have him go from a morally grey ally who at least sympathizes with the ninja even when he's not on their side, to a generically roguish villain. Let's dive into what prompted him to pursue such a high-scale crime!

Also, the keepers and Wojira talk may also prompt more discussion about some creation mythology and lore, Wojira's past and reign of terror before the FSM and Nyad came along, to really hammer in why they're so afraid of her. This would add some more setup for Seabound, as well as preemptively establish Wojira as a truly terrifying threat.

I can't say I have a thorough outline for what exactly the rewrite would look like, mostly just a few loose ideas here and there, but that's the general gist of what I've got so far!

[gemini-care-barr]

On the topic of Hal Jordan being maybe a bit better than anyone gives him credit for…

[I’m kidding ofc, we all know he’s a great guy, but bear with me for the sake of this post hahaha]

⚠️ Spoilers for Green Lantern #5 ⚠️

I get it, y’all, I really do. Hal can be pushy when it comes to love. And pretty undeserving of the love he pushes for because I mean how good is a guy that keeps professing his love to the same girl only to ditch her for long and unspecified stretches of time. Like of course, Carol keeps moving on, Hal, there’s absolutely no reason why she should wait around for some guy that loves her, but still leaves her! But hear me out…

Maybe Hal being pushy doesn’t actually change the fact that he’s a good guy. Maybe his pushiness is sincere. And maybe, just maybe, he’s a big enough person to set the whole “all is fair in love and war” thing aside to do what’s right and that’s what makes him so dang hard to resist.

So, this all stems from the latest issue of Green Lantern by Jeremy Adams and Xermánico which features Hal setting out to put a stop to Sinestro’s reign of terror across the earth. Hal’s first stop is Ferris Air as Sinestro has taken over all their unmanned drones to enact his plan. Carol catches Hal up on the situation and as he’s leaving to do his superheroics Carol hands him some nifty new communicators designed by her new fiance, Nate, y’know, the guy that Hal has been at one-sided odds with since the first issue of this new run. Hal, predictably, makes a snide little Hal-comment about Nate being smart and Carol, predictably, gives him no rope when she shortly replies that he’s “very” smart. I’ll always love these terse little exchanges between them.

Hal later runs into the problem of the last two drones being too far away from each other, and too close to their intended targets, for him to reach them in time. This leads to him coming up with the idea of putting his piloting skills, and indomitable will, to the test by simultaneously sending two constructs in opposite directions to catch the last two drones. Carol puts Nate on the line, and this is where my admiration for Hal, and Adams as a writer, grows considerably, as rather than getting another typical Hal remark we get a man on a mission.

Hal doesn’t care who’s guiding him in, he doesn’t care that he’s lost the love of his life (for no reason other than his own hubris) and that the one who has earned her love is now talking to him one-on-one. Rather than taking the easy drama route of giving Hal yet another opportunity to undercut his latest rival, Adams instead opts for the much more in-character route of having Hal just be the hero that he is. Hal’s only care is that there are people in trouble and Nate is the only person who can help him. And man, do they make a great team.

And this is a fact that neither gets nor needs any particular highlighting from the story itself. No remarks about Nate being the one to guide Hal in are made. Nothing is said about how well Hal followed directions from his rival-in-love. And that’s kinda my favorite part of all of this, the conclusion that I’ve come to, that Hal is not in the least bit petty and is a wholly honorable person, is not a conclusion that the story busies itself with proving. It just is. Hal just is a hero. He just is a good guy. He just does the right thing because that’s the right thing to do and, man, does that make it hard to say no to him.

[burst-of-iridescent]

atla live action thoughts: episode 1

SPOILERS AHEAD

tw: opinions

things i liked:

love that we're starting from a hundred years ago and seeing exactly how everything played out. iirc in the original, sozin's first move was to colonize earth kingdom territory so the show expanding upon it in sozin making it seem as though he was about to attack the earth kingdom as a red herring so he could wipe out the air nomads instead was a good change

sozin being able to wipe out the nomads because they were all gathered in one place for a festival makes a ton of sense, and i really like that they let us have time with the air nomads before wiping them out. gyatso and aang's scene almost brought me to tears, it was so beautifully sincere and touching

whoever casted gordon cormier needs a medal because THIS. FUCKING. KID. i nearly lost it when he started crying like what do you mean this baby has to save the world???

i am so thankful that they didn't shy away from the savagery and brutality of the air nomad genocide. seeing the fire nation cut them down so ruthlessly was absolutely horrific, but it was the perfect way to start this darker iteration of the story and those ten minutes alone made me feel more for the air nomads than the entire three seasons of the original. and having the scene cut between aang lost in the storm and his people being wiped out???? insane.

the visuals are absolutely beautiful. i think they shot this on a volume stage and holy shit did they make use of it because every establishing shot was gorgeous, especially the one for the southern air temple

ian ousley, questionable heritage aside, is actually doing a great job as sokka. his comedic timing is excellent

the bending actually looks... really good. i love how they're doing the airbending in particular, it definitely feels as though aang is entirely untethered to the earth

katara's arc is... interesting. i'll reserve judgement on it till the end of the season but right now i don't hate what they're doing with the changes to her relationship with waterbending. we'll see where they're going with this.

initially i wasn't a fan of them changing katara pulling aang out of the avatar state, but after reflecting i love that it was the memory of gyatso that brings aang back to himself. the idea that even though gyatso is gone, his love for aang still lives on within him, protecting him, is remarkably powerful and moving. and i think at this point, this version of katara and aang don't have enough of a relationship for her pulling him out of the avatar state to have the same impact it did in the original

THE MUSIC IS TOP-NOTCH. ngl i teared up when the credits were the iconic sun warrior soundtrack mixed with the atla theme

things i disliked/am conflicted about:

aang running away... doesn't feel like it's aang running away. i know he had the scene where he's crying and upset, but it feels more as though he just wanted to clear his head for a little bit rather than fleeing in terror because he was afraid of the responsibility of being the avatar. his guilt over abandoning his people and the world is fairly important to his character, so i didn't love the way they did this scene because it doesn't really feel like an active choice that aang made

gran-gran being turned into into an exposition machine to tell the audience - and aang - everything. really wasn't a fan of her being the one to reveal that aang is the avatar, or that they info-dumped everything about the fire nation and the war in one scene. it also sort of took away the gut punch of aang finding gyatso's skeleton because he already knows what's happened, whereas in the show it hits so much harder because of his blind optimism and naivete leading up to that moment

RIP katara breaking aang from the iceberg because of her righteous fury scene, you will always be famous. live action katara feels a little too passive so far but i hope that'll change in upcoming episodes as we get further into her arc

dallas liu as zuko... mmm, something about it is not working for me so far but i can't put my finger on why. i wouldn't say i disliked it, but i'm not loving it either. his performance feels a little too theatrical, somehow? but it's only the first episode so again i won't be too harsh till i finish the season

the southern water tribe should look far emptier and more isolated to get a real sense of how the war has affected them, imo. here the impact of their parents and most of the adults in the village being gone doesn't seem as apparent as it does in the original when it's literally just a few women and children

overall, premiere rating: 7.5/10

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC In 3 Tag!

Let's go with some more OCs from the cast of Crash Stardom! for this one!

Aiden Decroix

Smile - Onsra, s3nna's revenge & RichDropKick ft. SlidV

Under my smile

I'm stowing away all my pain

You can tell by the look on my face

I'm begging, I'm pleading I know that I need to be saved

Under my smile

There's a darkness that drives me insane

Living in terror the rest of my days

I'll find my escape or I'll take all my sins to the grave

I'll do that with a smile

Mothman - Joh Yoban

My dear Mothman, just bring me sorrow Won’t force myself to sleep alone When the sun falls, space will devour all Then we will be free and stay up all night long

My dear Mothman, this street is hollow The atmosphere is cobalt blue Every silence is sketching loud noise And we will be free and stay up all night long

Let’s fade into the night Fly away high

Inject the future Left all my thoughts on this crossroad When the wind blows, it will erase all Then wе will be free and stay up all night long

Family Line - Conan Gray

Scattered 'cross my family line I'm so good at telling lies That came from my mother's side Told a million to survive Scattered 'cross my family line God, I have my father's eyes But my sister's when I cry I can run, but I can't hide From my family line

[...]

Oh, all that I did to try to undo it! All of my pain and all your excuses! I was a kid but I wasn't clueless (Someone who loves you wouldn't do this!) All of my past, I tried to erase it! But now I see, would I even change it? Might share a face and share a last name, but (We are not the same!)

PS. Except in Aiden's case the lines would be: I'm so good at telling lies That came from my mother's father's side (He) Told a million to survive God, I have my father's uncle's eyes But my sister's mentor's when I cry I can run, but I can't hide

Randall Sloanne

Bottom of The Deep Blue Sea - Missio

The berth surrounding my body, crushing every bit of bone The salt, it seeps in through the pores of my open skin I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue

Welcome to my cage, little lover Attempt to rearrange with you, baby Still don't know your name, miss honey Let's go up in flames, pretty lady

The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind? I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue

Welcome to my cage, little lover Attempt to rearrange with you, baby Still don't know your name, miss honey

Vendetta - Unsecret

Fool me once and it's shame on me But you know you better tread carefully Fool me twice, I'm your enemy I'm your enemy

If you push, I push back Try to hide But I'll hunt you down like a maniac Down, you'll go down So if you hide I'm gonna hunt you down

Run, you better run Vendetta

[...]

Kindness never looked good on me Never been one to sit quietly Too late now to see irony In rivalry

Villain - KDA (male cover)

On the low, only love myself, no more Take you to the grave, I'll ghost I know I can be so cold In the dark, where I like to keep my heart Know I'm all bite, no bark Like to catch you way off guard

I'll stay so deep inside your brain And take you somewhere far away

Time to roll the dice, you know I'm the type Type to risk my life, not afraid to die Type to make you cry, type to put a price All up on your head, do just what I said

I'm a straight up villain, straight up villain

Chion Strihdda

Wildflowers - Tom Petty

You belong among the wildflowers You belong in a boat out at sea Sail away, kill off the hours You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, find you a lover Go away somewhere all bright and new I have seen no other Who compares with you

You belong among the wildflowers You belong in a boat out at sea You belong with your love on your arm You belong somewhere you feel free

Go The Distance - Hercules

I have often dreamed Of a far-off place Where a great warm welcome Will be waiting for me Where the crowds will cheer When they see my face And a voice keeps saying This is where I'm meant to be

I will find my way I can go the distance I'll be there someday If I can be strong I know every mile Will be worth my while I would go most anywhere To feel like I belong

I am on my way! I can go the distance! I don't care how far! Somehow I'll be strong!

Apollo - Timebelle

Like a bullet in my chest You're written, bound and etched Forever in my mind

We are fading in our hands Lost somewhere in a wasteland Not knowing up from down

But when the walls are caving And the world keeps turning We got the love We got to love

Now I will never let you go All the words won't make me fold It is never easy I'll follow you, Apollo

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[demdozeguys]

Strap in for a long one, because it's time for:

REVIEWING AND RANKING EVERY GAME I GOT FROM THE STEAM SUMMER SALE

ramblings under the cut:

UNRANKED: ULTRA STREET FIGHTER IV

okay look I know I said I'd be ranking all of these but putting a fighting game up against six linear-progression single-player adventure type games feels a bit unfair.

as for whether I liked it: yeah it's alright. it's street fighter, it's fun. only time will tell how much my brother and I will get out of it, but I'm already feeling like I don't like it quite as much as 5. how much of that is due to 4 not having Urien is anyone's guess.

#6: CROW COUNTRY

I'm gonna be honest I didn't fuck with this game nearly as much as I thought I would.

maybe it's because I'm new to the genre. maybe it's because I've been spoiled by autosave. or maybe it's just because I can't aim to save my life. but losing upwards of 20 minutes of progress every time some creature I failed to hit or juke tagged me one too many times got frustrating pretty fast.

I didn't hate my time with Crow Country. the environments are gorgeous, the story kept me intrigued, and filling out my mental list of "oh shit I can go here now"s was still satisfying. if this is your thing don't let me dissuade you, I just wasn't built for it.

#5: KAMIKO

Kamiko is decent fun, but there's not really a whole lot to say about it. It's a short and sweet zelda-esque game where the meat of the playtime comes from trying to go through it as fast as possible, and as you'll see later I happen to enjoy going fast. enjoyable, but not super meaty. if you like routing and time management give it a shot.

#4: PONY ISLAND

Alright, this is where we get into the Good Shit.

Pony Island is a game in which you play a game called Pony Island made by The Devil From The Bible. every few minutes there's some new weird meta setpiece to keep you on your toes, plus the code puzzles and pony sections between are solid fun on their own. it's a great time. and if you're interested, there's a pretty solid reward for getting 100%.

if I had to dock points, it didn't seem to have much in the way of replayability, but that's not a huge dealbreaker. I really need to get my hands on Inscryption now.....

#3: SPOOKY'S JUMPSCARE MANSION REMASTERED

I'm not normally big on horror but Spooky's kept me coming back. despite going into it already knowing what all the specimens did, they managed to keep me on the edge of my seat because you never know when they're going to show up. combine the legitimate building terror with an offbeat and self-aware sense of humor and you have a damn fun package.

it's worth noting that as of writing this, I've only completed the main story. the DLC campaigns probably won't affect the final ranking? but I have a feeling they'll make me appreciate the game more.

#2: PEPPER GRINDER

Pepper Grinder is fucking awesome.

The level design is great, the soundtrack rips, and just moving around with the core gimmick of "what if you could drill and then jump out" is so good. I just really wish there was more of it.

I was able to get all the major in-level collectibles and reach the end in under 3 hours. the bulk of my playtime came from the time trials, which do manage to hit a sweet spot of encouraging you to push yourself without requiring CBT perfection. demolishing the gold medal on the final boss took me well over an hour's worth of attempts and may have been one of the most viscerally satisfying challenges I've ever completed in a game.

Pepper Grinder is really, really cool. But if it had another world's worth of levels it would be even cooler.

#1: CHICORY: A COLORFUL TALE

Man. I fucking love Chicory.

The vibes are immacculate. The story made me really feel for these gay little animals. The soundtrack is delightful (Lena Raine, everybody!). The exploration is rewarding. The painting mechanics made me actively want to go back to areas I'd already been to and recolor them better than I did originally, which is like. not something most games do. You can even draw penises everywhere if you want. There's something for everybody.

I'm having a hard time putting down exactly what made me fall head over heels for this game as much as I did - especially when I wasn't expecting to going into it. Maybe it was just in the right place at the right time. No matter how it cheated the system, Chicory is easily the best game I picked up.

And that's that. this was my first time doing something like this (especially on tumblr) so it felt kinda weird but idk lmk if I planted any seeds in your brain

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode Origins — Bellamy

tw: horror / gore.

wanna read the extended story? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT THE NEXT CHAPTER OF PROJECT KILLCODE, THIS IS BACKGROUND FOR BELLAMY.

ONLY 6 DAYS PRIOR TO REDWOOD ACADEMY’S MOVE-IN DAY

“THE TESTS ARE CONCLUSIVE. The toxins produced when he’s in a high-stress situation are nearly five times stronger than any other time. Samples taken in high-stress have been powerful enough to cause necrotization,”

“He produces more effective toxins when he's afraid?”

“Yes, ma’am. We can still concentrate the toxins to that level if they’re drawn from him in low-stress, we’ll just need more of it. In the long run, it’d be better for him if we drew as much as we could when he is under stress. We’ll be able to dilute it for more product output without keeping him attached to machines all the time,”

“You’re saying we’ll be able to produce more products if we put him in stressful situations?”

“Well… uh, yes. Yes, ma’am, but-“

“I have someone for that,”

Bellamy had been turning over the conversation again and again in his head for the last hour. He wasn’t supposed to have heard it, but they left the intercom to his room on. What else was he supposed to do but listen?

He was sitting in the center of a solid white room. Floors, ceilings, lights and all. That’s where he stayed — his wrists attached to the floor by great big chains, each dawning a small green machine that separated poison from his blood. He never did anything else but sit, except leave for the occasional test every now and then. And that’s just how it was.

He was sitting cross-legged, fiddling with the hem at the bottom of his white jumpsuit, near his bare feet. The chains on his wrists hit the floor every now and then with a clack. He hadn’t understood most of the overheard conversation, other than the fact that he was pretty sure someone was coming to scare him. Not that it would be hard. He was only eleven, and was scared of pretty much anything that happened a wee bit differently than it normally did.

He sat in an uncomfortable silence for far too long — once he tried to lay down and sleep, but he didn’t want to be sleeping when they sent someone in to scare him. So he sat instead, messing with his jumpsuit, staring at the floor. He was pretty sure it was past dinner and they hadn’t brought him anything — he was starting to get hungry.

It was about an hour after they should’ve brought him food when the white door opened, and a woman in a white jumpsuit stepped in. She had a hood and mask tight over her head, like a hazmat suit, and she was carrying nothing.

Bellamy instinctively moved backwards, only a little bit before the chains on his wrists restricted him. He could already feel his blood pressure rising and he wasn’t even sure what she was doing.

“Hey there, Bell,” 

Well, he guessed she sounded nice enough. She made her way over to him and knelt a few feet away. Bellamy didn’t move, didn’t really blink — he could feel his heartbeat rising in his ears. He wanted to say something but he didn’t end up doing it — pleading for her not to hurt him, maybe. 

She sat down cross-legged. “My name is Charlie.”

Bellamy watched anxiously as she reached up and undid the hood of the hazmat suit, bringing it down and removing the mask that went along with it.

He made a small sound of terror.

Behind the mask was the face of a girl — young, maybe — with platinum hair that sat in stringy tangles next to her face. Her eyes were glowing, shining the color of honey but a little brighter, and her mouth—

It was stitched together into a terrible smile, bleeding down her face and neck. He could see where the stitching had torn against her flesh and wrenched it in directions it wasn’t supposed to go. There was blood all over her — streams of it dried up where it had been dripping from her ears, her nose, her eyes.

Bellamy tried to scramble backwards, but he couldn’t, thanks to the chains. His eyes were suddenly burning and he sort of felt like he might throw up.

“I just want to talk,”

She spoke to him, she was staring at him, but her mouth didn’t move. Bellamy kept jerking against the chains in a way that hurt his wrists.

“No!” Was all he managed to force out, keeping his eyes dutifully focused on the white floor, which was blurring and swirling through his tears. The machines on his wrists were whirring louder.

There was a strange noise, and a flash of light, and he blinked.

The white room was suddenly not so bright anymore — and he was alone. It was deafeningly silent.

He glanced down at his hands (they were shaking now) and blinked back his tears when he noticed the shackles on his wrists were undone. He warily pulled his hands toward himself until the chains fell off with a clack-clack-clack.

Looking back up, there was no sign of the girl — but whatever she’d done had messed with the lights in his room, for now only about half of them were working. The rest were flickering or off.

The door was also open.

The door was also open.

Past it, he could see the white hallways he always saw when he left his room. There were no sounds coming from that way, but the lights were messed up there, too — he could see them flickering.

With a few blinks, he looked around the room some more. Nothing seemed out of place or wrong but the lights and the chains. And the door.

The door was wide open, and there was no one there to guide him. He could just…

He carefully pushed himself up onto his bare feet. He took one last glance around the room — a spin — and there was no one, and nothing, there.

With a little sniffle, he wiped at his eyes with the forearm of his jumpsuit and took a few steps closer to the door, checking his surroundings after each. After about half a minute, he was in the doorway.

Peering out into the hall and biting one of his nails anxiously, he was surprised to see the long, endless white halls completely empty. The lights were really broken, making it dark and then light again in some places, while other places flickered with tiny audible clicks that made his anxiety buzz.

Shaking out his hands by his sides, he stepped out. He thought about shouting down the hall, but decided against it, because, as weird as this was, he may have had a chance of escape. He whirled back around and checked his room one last time, greeted by nothing more than white and a plaque next to the door.

Subject E9174

Bellamy Callahan

☢︎

CAUTION: DO NOT ENGAGE WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY EQUIPMENT AND TRAINED PERSONNEL.

He blinked at it before turning back to the empty, long halls. They stemmed in either direction, and there seemed to be lots of doors spaced out evenly around the walls. A little ways down it, a metal cart sat, with what looked like knocked over and shattered test tubes on it. Behind him, maybe a few yards away, there was a stack of sort-of-folded white blankets sprawled about like they’d been dropped.

Bellamy cautiously put one foot in front of the other, drifting down the hallway like a shadow. The only sounds present were the little clicks of blinking lights, and his own breathing, if that counted. He was still pretty freaked out from seeing that girl’s face, as evident from the fact that his hands were still trembling and he was biting his nails almost incessantly.

He passed the next door, glancing at the plaque as he went.

Subject K9165

Levi Undersee

☢︎

CAUTION: DO NOT ENGAGE WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY EQUIPMENT AND TRAINED PERSONNEL

He blinked at the name, which must’ve been the name of whoever stayed on the inside, like his. He took a few curious steps toward the door, jumping a mile and a half when it slid open simply due to his presence.

There were chains — they were bloody. No one was inside.

He took a step back and continued down the hallway, instead, trying to calm his breathing so it wasn’t so loud. His heartbeat was still pounding against his eardrums — and the eeriness of the place being so empty and silent didn’t seem to help.

He passed another door — this one was already open. Inside of it were no chains, but twelve chairs, each one housing clasps and straps to hold people down so they couldn’t move. The white floor was stained in various spots, once cleaned but not enough. He didn’t want to know what had made those spots.

He quickly moved on. The next door was one like his, with a plaque. 

Subject A286

Rockie Winchester

He knitted his brows together when that one didn’t have the warning at the bottom. With his curiosity piqued, he stepped forward, activating the door automatically. 

On the inside was a boy, curled up in the floor on his side, wrists chained. He was wearing the same white jumpsuit Bellamy was. He seemed a little older, bigger — with really dark hair that was all messed up. He was shaking and jerking like he was… crying.

Bellamy stepped forward again, and the door slammed in his face.

He jumped backwards with a poorly-stifled shout, thudding into the white tile floor with a thwack. 

He took a moment — to breathe, to make his heart stop pounding like that — and then shakily pulled himself up again.

When he neared the door again, it didn’t open.

With a few shaky exhales, he moved on. Most of the doors had plaques like his, the cautionary warning varying by which one he was reading. Ones that didn’t have plaques didn’t open for him. The ones that did open were always empty.

“Psst. Bell,”

He looked forward from the plaque he had been reading, flinching slightly when he caught sight of someone standing, far off in the hall. It was a boy, with dark hair, in the white jumpsuit.

“Rockie?” He whispered, glancing backwards at the doors he’d just come from. How had the other boy gotten in front of him so fast? Without him seeing?

When he looked back, he saw Rockie disappear into an adjacent hallway.

For some reason, he found himself trying to follow him. “Rockie?”

He pit-patted up the hallway until he reached the turn Rockie had disappeared down, peering beyond hesitantly. It was another long hallway just like the first, flickering lights and doors and all.

Rockie ran through a door on the left side of the hallway.

Bellamy followed behind quickly, pausing in front of the door just far enough away to let it sense him and hiss open.

And when it did, she was on the other side, not an inch from the door, staring, smiling.

Bellamy all but threw himself backwards, careening into the wall behind him. All of his adrenaline seemed to spring to life at once, his heart pounding, breathing rapidly, and he stumbled around until he got his feet under him enough to run back down the hallway. His eyes began to burn immediately like there was lava behind them.

When he slid into a left turn, she was standing there, smiling.

He skidded to a very ungraceful stop, falling flat on his back and scrambling there. His breathing got increasingly rapid and uneven until it turned into sobs, wheezy and horrified. The tears that obstructed his vision made the whole thing ten times worse.

“Why are you so scared?”

Her voice bounced around in his skull like it was coming from every direction and no direction at all, and he practically thrashed around on the floor until he managed to get himself up again. Propelling himself back the way he’d come as fast as he legs could carry him, footsteps came from behind — clear and loud and fast and loud and constant and loud. Loud like she was right on top of him. Loud like she was inches from him.

Someone grabbed onto the back of his jumpsuit, and Bellamy could’ve sworn he caught air for a second, before crashing backwards into someone’s legs. 

“You cant escape me,” She growled. She picked Bellamy up by the scruff of his jumpsuit like he weighed nothing, holding him out in front of her face like a disobedient cat. He thrashed and kicked and punched there, trying his hardest to fight through all the lung-ripping crying he was doing, failing miserably because he couldn’t seem to reach her. He couldn’t seem to reach her even though she was right there.

She smiled crookedly at him.

Suddenly, she dropped him onto the tile again with a wham that sent a violent dagger of pain shooting through his head. He knew he made a noise, but he didn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“So close, yet so far,” She chided, her voice streaking through his mind with striking clarity, even against the ringing and crying. He felt icy cold fingertips on his face, stroking from his temple down to his jawline. She was hovering over him — looming, like a stormcloud, the blood on her face threatening to fall down onto him.

“P… please,” He wheezed, choking on his own sobs like a toddler throwing an inhuman tantrum. He squirmed under her touch, thrashing under her in every possible way, yet he never landed a blow.

“You want to run so bad? Then run,”

The suddenly vanished from on top of him, and he gasped for breath, grappling at the jumpsuit close to his chest in an attempt at pulling in any air. He sat up and shoved himself against the wall, making himself as small as humanly possible. Sobbing so hard he was starting to get a headache, he wiped at his eyes furiously, constantly scanning the empty, flickering halls for any signs of her.

Not ten seconds later, she appeared a long ways away, staring from the end of the hall.

Bellamy sucked in a myriad of shuddery breaths and forced himself to stand. He was launched into a terrible coughing fit that nearly left him gagging on his own tears, and when he looked back up, she was gone.

Bellamy ran.

—

YES I DID YOU FOOLS * PSYCHOTIC EVIL LAUGH*

THIS WAS THE REASON BENTLEY NEVER ACTUALLY SAW HER DIE SMJFSKCJDKC BECAUSE SHE DIDNT

ALSO yes, bell & rockie grew up in the same white establishment that uses their powers for their own purposes

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

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